York Museums Trust Blog

In the fourth of his blogs Jim Butler gives a behind-the-scenes account of the build-up to our new major York Castle Prison exhibition.

We knew from the outset of this project that by unearthing the Prison’s history we would encounter troubling and emotive issues. 

Perhaps one of the most disturbing accounts we discovered was the tragic tale of Martha Chapel, a teenager who killed her newborn baby and was hanged for murder six weeks later. Martha was a servant girl, described as industrious and good-tempered, who was 18 or 19 when she fell pregnant while unmarried in 1802. The identity of the father was never discovered, though some claimed it was her employer. Whoever it was, the court established that she had no reputation as a ‘loose woman.’Martha took a new job about three or four months before the baby was due which meant she could not have looked pregnant or she would not have been employed . She told no-one she was pregnant and may not have known herself.

Complaining of being ill and in pain she gave birth, alone, on June 15, 1803 and the baby, a girl, was found dead shortly afterwards. A doctor said Martha must have killed the baby with her own hands. Martha defended herself, saying she was rendered delirious with pain and, having never given birth and with no idea what was happening, mangled the child whilst trying to hasten the delivery

 A jury took just ten minutes to find her guilty and Martha, of Ackworth, near Wakefield, was hanged at the ‘new drop’ –  the large white doors on the Castle car park side of the museum building   - on August 1, 1803. Her body was dissected by surgeons and it is unlikely she ever had a grave. Martha was quoted at trial. ‘I am a wretched woman, it was my child. I never meant it harm…I loved my child before I saw it.’Within 30 years her conviction was being questioned as unsound as attitudes to new mothers and illegitimate birth very, very slowly began to change. It wasn’t until 1922 that the crime of infanticide was created, which meant a new mother couldn’t be put to death. The act recognised that a mother might suffer derangement as a result of childbirth.This tragic tale tells us too much not to be mentioned at all but we won’t have an actor recounting the story like the others. Some of the details, particularly surrounding the body of the baby, are just too shocking for an area accessible by very young children. Instead it is likely that Martha’s story will form part of a designated learning programme where the sensitive issues raised can be more thoroughly and appropriately explored.

In the third of his blogs Jim Butler gives a behind-the-scenes account of the build up to our new major York Castle Prison exhibition.

It’s a fair bet that we’d all secretly rejoice at the discovery of a real roguish character among our ancestors.Maybe a highwayman like Dick Turpin or a political dissident cruelly hanged for fighting for a fairer society.Well, you’ll have the chance to find out if such a character really existed among your forebears as a key part of our exhibition will be a search database situated in the heart of old cells.

Visitors will be able to type in their own name or town/village and see if one of their own possible ancestors was once incarcerated within the gruesome gaol.The database is the work – and I mean countless hours of hard, painstaking work – of a big hero of our exhibition, researcher Dr Katherine Prior.Katherine has worked for many months pouring over the National Archives, British Museum records, regional archives, ancient newspapers, prison plans and written accounts of trials and hangings. Her painstaking trawl busted a few long-held myths, not least the long held belief that Turpin had been held in a cell opened to the public for many years when in fact he was more likely to have spent his last few hours in a different part of the gaol. But it’s the new information on individuals, be they murderers, rogues, debtors or petty thieves, that have really added to the buzz about this exhibition.

My previous blogs have focused on the crimes of Turpin and Elizabeth Boardingham, the last woman to have been burned at the stake in Yorkshire. But Katherine’s research has also brought us the sympathetic character of William Hartley, a man with a strong claim to be regarded as a political prisoner.Hartley, a poor tailor from near Halifax, was one of 17 Luddites executed at the prison in January 1813.

The Luddites, named after their fictional leader Captain Ned Ludd, were skilled textile workers forced into poverty by the machines of the industrial revolution and the wars against France and the USA.  At a time when unions were banned, they formed illegally with the hope of relieving their plight.They raided the house of wool-stapler, George Haigh, both for his weapons and to try and force him to charge less for the milk he sold.  But soon after, Hartley was captured on the dodgy testimony of a turncoat, Joseph Clark, desperately trying to save his own skin.Hartley, who was 41, a widower with seven children to support, admitted his presence in the raid but denied being a leader or demanding or receiving any arms. He stuck to his story in the prison and he may have got away with a lesser sentence if not for the authorities’ feverish desire to crush the Luddites. He was one of 14 hanged on a single day – perhaps the largest number executed at once in Yorkshire’s history – in front of a huge crowd and a large number of troops.

What became of his orphaned children (their mother, probably weakened from lack of food, died six months previously) is not known. Hartley asked for their plight to be published in the hope they might receive charity.A sad detail of the story is that Hartley, who had no previous record of criminal activity, initially couldn’t face seeing his daughter before his death.A tragic tale. That we can tell it is thanks to the work of Dr Katherine Prior.

In his second blog about the build-up to our forthcoming York Castle Prison exhibition, Jim Butler, Learning Manager, tells the tale of the last woman in Yorkshire to be burned at the stake.

Elizabeth Boardingham, a victim of her time and a ‘must’ character for our Prison exhibition. Although tragic by today’s standards, Elizabeth’s story reveals much about the appallingly unfair position of women in the highly patriarchal society of 18th Century England.  But by no means was she a shrinking violet.  In fact, aside from the manner of her death, it was her strength and determination in the final days of her life that made her irresistible to us.

Elizabeth, from Flamborough in the East Riding of Yorkshire, was married with five children and in her early 30s when her husband, John, was sent to York gaol for smuggling in 1775. 

                                                 Murder! Murder!
Soon after she ran off with one Thomas Aikney who, late one night following her husband’s release, stabbed John twice before running off. John staggered into the street, pulled out the knife, and cried ‘murder! murder!’ before collapsing, quite dead.  Aikney was caught and later convicted of murder but blamed Elizabeth for pestering him to do it. Here’s the thing: Despite denying Aikney’s allegations and the fact there was very little evidence to support her role in the attack, Elizabeth was not just convicted of murder, but of the much worse crime of ‘petty treason’ – a crime in which the perpetrator was thought to have subverted the natural hierarchy of society, eg a servant killing a master, or a woman her husband. It was punishable by the worst means allowable, public burning at the stake. Of course the actual murderer, a man, was simply hung while his lover burned.So poor Elizabeth Boardingham, victim of her time, was let down by a feckless husband, her lover and a male-dominated society who decreed that her crime as worse than actual murder. All this simply because she was a woman. From the 17th July, Elizabeth will be one of 8 characters brought to life by actors and projected into the cells where some spent their final days.  Of course the character the public are most interested is always Richard (Dick) Turpin who I discussed in my first blog.  But actually it’s the stories of other former Castle inmates, like Elizabeth, that will really bring home the (in)justices of life in the 18th Century.The £200,000 York Castle Prison exhibition opens on July 17 at York Castle Museum (the former 18th century county gaol on the site of the Medieval castle).

The bright lights of film crews and photographers descended on the Yorkshire Museum last week after a fantastic and festive discovery by the volunteers of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society.
Hidden away in one of the many boxes of books they have been cataloguing, the volunteers stumbled upon an extremely rare find – a complete copy of David Robert’s The Holy Land, Syria, Idumea, Arabia, Egypt and Nubia.  Published in 1842 this amazing book contains the first pictures of Bethlehem, Nazareth and Jerusalem to be published in the West.
After research by the volunteers, curator Andrew Morrison and expert Peter Freshwater the three bound volumes were found to be one of only 400 first editions ever made, with other examples owned by Queen Victoria and the Tsar of Russia. What makes the complete books even rarer is many of the 400 were taken apart so the pictures can be sold separately.

To find the books so close to Christmas was a great press story and TV, radio, national and regional newspapers and magazines all turned up to take pictures of the hand coloured lithographs in the books. As one of the reports said, museums don’t get Christmas presents better than this!  

If you’re in York any evening until 02 November, make sure you see this truly impressive sound and light show in Museum Gardens.  I went to the opening event last week and, not having been involved in this city project, I had no idea what to expect. 

It was brilliant – in every sense of the word.  Huge moving projections glowed from the ruins of St Mary’s Abbey Church and the front of the Yorkshire Museum, each image appropriate to each building but timed to work together and with an evocative soundtrack.

There’s no charge, it runs from when it goes dark until about 11pm and it’s a great way to start or end an evening.  Not to be missed… 

It’s mornings like this that you realise how lucky you are to live and work in York. OK, most people might think that’s a bit crazy on a cold foggy morning. But, cycling down the river to avoid the traffic, I did realise how weird and wonderful it looked. Mist curling over the river, sounds drifting from the railway station, water as smooth as glass due to the lack of wind all made for quite an atmosphere. And of course a morning commute that involves getting away from the traffic can’t be bad.

For an archaeologist, there’s nothing like getting your hands dirty. Wild Wednesdays (our free outdoor activities in August on – surprise, surprise – Wednesdays), and an adult education course, has given us archaeologists at the Yorkshire Museum a chance to do just that. Armed with scheduled monument consent we have been exploring the potential of archaeology in the gardens by reopening a trench dug in the 1950’s. Even better, we have been working with the York branch of the Young Archaeologists’ Club – they love a bit of digging, and normally only get one chance a year to get their trowels out, so this was a bit of a treat for all of us! We opened the trench on Friday to give them a chance to enjoy getting grubby just like we do. They trowelled, sieved their spoil and finally sorted their finds. And we didn’t even get rained on (much). I really enjoy working with people who are as enthusiastic as our YAC members (enthusiasm is so infectious!), especially when at the end of the day there’s a general chorus of “When are we diggin’ again?”.

(This blog was actually written some days ago, concerning the Hands on Archaeology day, but I haven’t been able to get on-line to post anything! So here it goes, days late:)

There’s nothing like a day at work, elbows deep in fish guts. OK, elbows might be a bit of an overstatement, perhaps up to my fabric bracelet (collected from festivals) is the more appropriate amount of guts tackled today. I think I will smell best of everyone tonight! But anyway, there was a Hands on Archaeology theme at the museum today, which made the day more out of the ordinary, after the general confusion of me just returning from a holiday and not having a clue about the admission prices for this shindig. It was fantastic, and should definitely be repeated. Walking around the museum, whilst taking the scenic route to the loos’, I saw stalls with colleagues presenting various interesting things, from iron to jewels to fabrics to yes – fish.

I stayed the first time to explore the fish thing further. I am somewhat of an animal rights lunatic, though I do eat fish, but have this strange fascination for icky and gooey wonderfully smelly dead animals. Or perhaps not all animals. It mainly scales down to fish. My family owns a cottage in the Finnish archipelago, and I spent many summer weeks there during my childhood gutting fish. Catching and gutting fish were the most interesting parts of the summer. And here I had fish in front of me, and 6000 year old flint to gut it with. I’ve never gutted anything with 6000 year old tools. So I scratched a bit of the scales off before feeling that perhaps I should return to front desk. But I returned later to gut a whole fish, and cutting off its head, alongside a small child doing the same, being equally excited by the yucky texture. It’s amazing that a piece of flint, basically a piece of rock that has been in the ground for six millenniums can still de-scale, gut and decapitate a fish. I found it somewhat challenging but by no means impossible, and it left me sort of proud of my work. Out then to the Roman style cooker in the Museum Gardens to cook the little beast, and then to be consumed. I felt like a true warrior. Except that I didn’t actually catch and killed the fish. I merely played with its carcass. But it was very, very cool.

And then there was some fish left over, that I got to take home. Even though I think the smell will never leave, this was a really fun day. And we, in my house, will be well fed too.

The first time I met Prince Philip he wished me a very Merry Christmas. It was a hot day in mid summer. Fast forward a few years and I see him in the flesh again, also in mid summer but much less hot and decidedly muddier. He was at the Yorkshire Show with his wife, The Queen. They had come to celebrate the show’s 150^th anniversary – a century and a half of showing agriculture at its best.  And, just like the Queen, York Museums Trust decided to mark this occasion as well, only without the blue hat. For three days a team of enthusiastic (very enthusiastic seeing as though we were up at 6am) staff members and volunteers manned a variety of activities, crafts and artefacts looking at the history of farming. More than 6,000 people came to learn things such as what the Roman’s brought to Yorkshire and how to squash a rat Victorian style. A map of where the women in the Land Army were based in Yorkshire created many nostalgic trips back to a time when they looked after land. Many city girls had never seen a cow before, but a lot stayed after the war, some as newly weds.  Gaby’s psychedelic horses caught the eye of passers by, and a life-sized milkable cow with milk bottle ears provided ample entertainment for children while their parents chewed the cud. For many the big draw was the incredible model of a steam engine and thresher. With its attention to detail and intricate design it was a labour of love for its creator. It was no surprise that it literally stopped people in their tracks, especially those who had worked on life sized versions in the past. And it was the object where most often roles were reversed, with the visitor very politely informing staff what did what.  Although I didn’t get to meet the Queen and Prince Philip, some of the Trust’s staff did. Amy, Lucy, dressed as a milk maid, Christine, dressed as a land girl and Jim dressed as a Monk/Obi Wan Kenobi, were all invited to meet her majesty, and very nice she was too apparently. But not a mention of festive tidings from Philip.

Our web presence has grown a little more; we’ve been experimenting our new Flickr account. We’ll try to restrict it to good quality photos and strong images.

It’s been there for a while, but it was really kicked into life with the Grand Tour in York’s own Flickr Set.  Since then we’ve begun adding content for each of our sites, plus a special History of York Set that’s looking really good already.

There’s even a taster in the box a the bottom of this page…..