Gruesome Gaol - The Witchfinder General

Colchester's very creepy gaol

Tourist boards, especially ones for such historical towns, like to make the past something a little fluffy, a little sweet and not too gory. It's the 'National Trust' effect almost, making things very involveable and relatable to current modern life. I like the interactive element of this, but it does tend to mean that we brush over a lot of the uglier aspects to historical life in order to make them appealing to moderners. 

Unfortunately for Colchester, a lot of its history comes from events that are not just 'not pretty' - they're downright bloodthirsty. The gaol in Colchester Castle is just one small example of this. Though the whole castle was originally used as a prison from 1226, its military use slowly diminished, and eventually in 1350 the dungeons were converted to be used as the county gaol. Enormous wooden beams surround the door to the gaol still, worn smooth by the endless rubbing of hands from prisoners dragged inside, and graffiti can be seen all over the wood and walls. The cells are tiny, and even more so when you consider that they were crammed with perhaps half a dozen people or more all at the same time. The whole area is terrifically atmospheric, and rumours of prisoner's ghosts abound, further enhanced by occasional charity 'sleepovers' in the dungeons by local political campaigners and spokespersons. One particular ghost story associated with Colchester castle is of Quaker prisoner James Parnell, who was forced to climb a rope every time he wanted to eat, and subsequently fell to his death. According to legend, he now haunts the Castle dungeons, and apparently people who have stayed the night have later emerged complete wrecks.

Matthew Hopkins

The gaol's most infamous inhabitants were mostly down to one man; Matthew Hopkins, the 'Witchfinder General'. Though never a name officially conferred on him by Parliament, Hopkins was the scourge of East Anglia in the early 1640s, interrogating women suspected of witchcraft and sparking off hunts by just tiny small rumours that grew and grew. Women were not helped by neighbours and family members turning evidence and becoming 'informers to the crown', allowing the accuser to go free if they gave evidence or maleficia against another. Trivial disputes between neighbours turned entire villages against each other, and an animal dying of natural causes before its time could be used as proof of witchcraft by any woman seeking to punish their neighbour for any reason. 

In his book 'Witchfinders', Malcolm Gaskill describes Colchester Castle gaol as shown to Matthew Hopkins by the gaoler Stephen Hoy. 

The gaoler unlocked an oak door studded with nails, and showed his guest through into a small room where the smell of human waste intensified and sounds of movement and murmuring could be heard. There was no natural light here. Leading off this space were two cells, one for men, the other for women. Opening the door to the women's cell, Hoy held his lantern high to illuminate a tableau of despair. 

Through disuse since the 14th century, the castle had fallen into disrepair. The roof had collapsed, the walls were in a terrible condition, and the building was really only fit for its remaining purpose - a prison. Prisoners had no light, space, or sanitation, beaten by the officers watching over them, and often charged for their stay. Felons were shackled, beds were simply bare stone and a bit of straw, and the walls were mouldy, wet and filthy. After a few weeks in these conditions, it was no wonder that so many women confessed, just to ease their pain. In two weeks alone between May and June 1645, four woman died, and according to Gaskill, around thirty women were kept in this one cramped cell. The most likely cause of death was bubonic plague. 

The Witchfinder General story is absolutely fascinating, demonstrating how one Suffolk man, the child of a rector in an incredibly superstitious age, sent East Anglia into a terrifying downward spiral of accusation, coersion and suspicion, leading to the deaths of so many innocent women. It's something I'll be returning to over several posts in this blog, hoping to tease out any evidence remaining visible today of the Witch-hunts of the 1600s. The best place to start, however, is deep in the bowels of Colchester Castle, where that nail-studded oak door still remains, and the gaol - much more pleasant to look at now - is a deliciously creepy visit. 

Sir Isaacs Secrets

One of the most interesting parts of Colchester are the small, tucked away secret history bits dotted about the town. Even after growing up here, I still see fascinating little snippets of information everywhere that I'd never noticed before - even when they're hidden in plain sight. 

One of these I spotted whilst doing some pre-emptive Christmas shopping. A little, tarnished plaque on a shopfront gives a much more interesting story to an otherwise ordinary cobblers. 

This Doorway has been retained in the interest of preserving the history of Colchester. It is thought to date from about 1500ad, and it seems likely that even at that time this building was being used as a shop which was probably of a similar size and shape to our present shop. E.S.R Services

The building, retained by ESR Services, is a Grade II listed building at No.1 Sir Isaacs Walk, with a wooden windowframe kept in the original height and position of the 1500 AD shop that previously existed. The brass plaque is rather unobtrusive and well below eye height, but its presence tells us that for at least five hundred years, Colchestrians have been walking and shopping around that area at the junction of Eld Lane, Sir Isaacs Walk and Trinity Street.

To add to this historic shopping area, I particularly love this postcard circa 1892, with the owner listed as William Gill, Photographer, North Light Studio, Sir Isaacs Walk. Imagine all the fashionable ladies and gentleman who came through here to have their photo taken with Mr Gill. Where was this one heading to? About to make his way in the world on his Grand Tour, perhaps?

Can a cannon be canon?

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the King's horses
And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again


It's an age old, well known nursery rhyme sung to children around the world. But did you know, that along with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Ole King Cole, Humpty Dumpty is rumoured to have its legendary origins from Colchester? 


Following on from my post yesterday on the obelisk commemorating two captains of the Civil War, Humpty Dumpty also appears to have its origins from that time period, but is a very different character indeed. In fact, Humpty Dumpty has two characters - one as a cannon, and one as sniper 'One Eye Jack' Thompson, who was in charge of looking after an enormous cannon mounted on the walls of St Mary's Church. 'Humpty Dumpty' is variously accredited as referring either to the cannon, or to the weight of Thompson, and debate still rages as to whether the nursery rhyme even refers to them at all.

Taking the view that Humpty refers to the cannon, the story goes that it was a large Royalist weapon mounted in the upper storeys of St Mary's (now better known as Colchester Arts Centre), and managing to achieve significant damage to the besieging Parliamentarian forces in the summer of 1648. Tired of being battered by the cannon, the Parliamentarian's turned their attention solely to St Marys, and used their own guns to blast an enormous hole in the side of the church. With the floor going underneath it, both Humpty Dumpties fell off the wall, tumbled to the ground and smashed. All of the King's troops (ie.; the Royalists) were unable to repair or remount Humpty, leading the loss of their most powerful weapon, and eventually their downfall and surrender to the Roundheads.

Different readings of the rhyme also credit the Royalist troops as trying to hoist the fallen cannon onto another part of the wall, causing an interesting split as to whether the cannon actually broke on its fall, or stayed intact and operational. A 2008 article in the Daily Gazette actually raises the question as to whether segments of the broken Humpty may even be buried in the area surrounding St Mary's, but as of this post, no archeological excavations have yet taken place to provide conclusive proof one way or the other.

The earliest traceable reference to Humpty seems to be a reference in 1803 to cannons being mounted 'from St Mary's fort', manned by a 'gunner possessing but one eye'. A further publication of 'History and Description' in 1826 also refers to the one eyed gunner, but adds in that one of the cannons he was sentinel of was a 'brass saker which, flanking their trench, did them much injury.' No further contemporary records seem to refer to either this one eyed gunner or any cannons he was guarding, but St Mary's certainly sits on top of a suitably high vantage point, part of the original Roman Wall circling Colchester, which would have made a good defensive point for the Royalists. Whether a great big cannon was also part of the strategy there, and whether the Parliamentarians shot it off, is up for debate, but I expect at least some battery would be a plausible plan.

Either way, Humpty Dumpty remains a strong part of Colchester literature, and the town has taken the rhyme to heart. It seems unlikely that the rumour of it's origins will die off any time soon, and it remains an interesting part of the Colchester Siege legends.

Ode to an Obelisk

One of my favourite legends in Colchester is actually in one of the most public places in town, wandered past by dozens of people every day. Just behind Colchester Castle, before you head down the hill to Lower Castle Park, stands the very innocuous obelisk, a monument to the bloody Civil War that saw so many families torn apart by loyalty to King or Government.

In 1648, Colchester was under siege by Lord Thomas Fairfax, general to Oliver Cromwell who would become England's first Lord Protector in 1653. Leader of the Roundheads, Cromwell's aim was to get rid of the incompetent King Charles I and for England to hand more power to Parliament to govern its own matters. Colchester, occupied by Royalist troops who had only intended to briefly pass through, suffered under siege for two and a half months before the Royalist troops finally surrended on the 27th of August 1648.

This stone marks the spot
Where on August 28. 1648
After the surrender of the town
The two Royalist captains
Sir Charles Lucas
and Sir George Lyle
Were shot by order of Sir Thomas Fairfax,
The Parliamentarian General

As punishment for their defence and surrender, Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lyle were executed by firing squad on the orders of Fairfax, and an obelisk now stands there to commemorate these two brave men. The legend now goes that where their blood fell, grass will not grow. I suppose it helped that that area was entirely concreted over, just to make sure!

Welcome

Hello and welcome to the first post to A Secret History Of Colchester, a brand new blog exploring all of the history and legends in this gorgeous area of Essex. With history spanning the Romans, Normans, Saxons, Medieval forts, the Civil War, visits from Tudor Royalty, the infamous Witchfinder General, Victorian water elephants, raids in the Second World War, and so much more, Colchester has plenty to talk about!

I hope you enjoy this blog, and all comments are very warmly welcomed from locals and visitors alike.