On 16 July 1556 a martyr named Julius Palmer was executed in Newbury, Berkshire. Born in Coventry to a father who served as mayor at one time there, and later worked as an upholsterer, he was provided with a good education. A fellow of Magdalen College in Oxford, he was said to have had ‘a very prompt and ready memory, a wit sharp and pregnant’. He studied philosophy and languages, and could speak Latin and Greek. A hard worker, he entered Oxford University in 1550 during the reign of Edward VI, spending his days waking at 4am and eventually settling in his bed after 10pm. In 1552 the Protestant King Edward died, and after a brief tussle for the crown, Mary I came to power. The Catholic daughter of Henry VIII and his first wife Katherine of Aragon, she was resolved to bring England back under the authority of the pope. Her father had begun the move away from Papal Authority in the 1530s, when the pope ruled that his marriage to Katherine of Aragon was legal. He had been trying to divorce her to marry his new love, Anne Boleyn, and his reaction to the papal decision was to sever England’s reliance on papal authority. England was still very much a Catholic country when Henry died in 1547, with some tweaks including a state-controlled edition of the Bible. Under Edward VI and his two Protectors, the dukes of Somerset and then Northumberland, England swung more towards a Protestant religion. Under Mary, and her Spanish Habsburg husband Philip of Spain, all that would change. 

In the early 1550s, ‘slanderous libels and railing verses’ were nailed to the doors of areas within Magdalen College, and Palmer, having argued with the president Dr Haddon, was quickly rumoured to have been the culprit. Palmer denied any involvement, but was still expelled from the university under suspicion of the offence. He then worked as a tutor to the children of Sir Francis Knollys, and later taught at Reading Grammar School, which would have been near the site of today’s Town Hall and St Laurence's Church. Palmer’s thoughts on religion now became not only public but treasonous, according to the words of one John Bullingham. Bullingham wrote that Palmer once walked with him to St James’ Palace in London, where he ‘leaned at the great gate of that place’, and spoke of the ‘misery and calamities we are fallen for the pope and his religion’. He told Bullingham to ‘consider what hangeth over our heads’, and stated that ‘rather than I will yield unto them, I will beg my bread’. 

In another meeting, he met Palmer at St Paul’s Cathedral, which then had its medieval pre-1666 spire. Palmer told Bullingham that an image of God was ‘an idol, and that the pope is antichrist, and his clergy the filthy stink-hole of hell’. 

A man tied to a burning stake, Wellcome Collection, Public Domain.

In the early years of Mary and Philip’s reign, the burnings of those who refused to adopt the Catholic religion began. Everyone from bishops to tradesmen were tied to stakes and consumed by flames, protesting their faith as they died. Palmer, it was said, became interested in these events, gathering information about the deaths of Bishop John Hooper in Gloucester and of Bishops Ridley and Latimer in Oxford. Palmer tried to keep his Protestant views, which were inspired by the writings of John Calvin, private. However it soon became clear that he did not adhere to the state religion, storming out of a lecture on Catholicism because of ‘the friar’s blasphemous talk’ and failing to adhere to Tudor customs of respect when dealing with Catholic priests. 

By 1555 Palmer was employed as a schoolmaster at Reading Grammar School, and lived within the town. However on learning that he was being investigated for his Protestant beliefs, he planned an escape. Leaving his job and his home, he went to his mother who disowned him, saying that his father had ‘bequeathed nought for heretics’. It was then, in 1556, that he managed to obtain a job as tutor in a school in Gloucestershire. Remembering how quickly he had left Reading, he made the decision to revisit the town quietly and pick up the cash and belongings he had left in his chamber. 

He came to the town and lodged at an inn called The Cardinal’s Hat, ‘desiring his hostess to assign him a close chamber, where he might be alone from all resort of company’. However the friends he had relied on to help him gather his things turned on him. One man, Hampton, visited him at the inn and gathered information about his future plans, the men ending their conversation in an argument. After he left, Palmer called for his evening meal and went to bed, but officials came bursting in, ‘with lanterns and bills, requiring him in the king and queen’s name to make ready himself, and quietly to depart by them’. Palmer was clapped into a dungeon – according to John Foxe, he was suspended by his wrists – and prepared for his trial in Reading.

Palmer was outspoken and pragmatic at his examination, saying that ‘the queen's sword was not put in her hand to execute tyranny, and to kill and murder the true servants of God’. It was decided that he would travel to Newbury and face the rest of the judicial process there. A Protestant sympathiser and resident of Reading, Master Rider, sent a servant to Palmer secretly the night before his departure, saying that he would provide anything he needed that evening. Palmer replied warmly that he ‘lacked nothing’ and thanked Rider for his concern. Palmer faced another examination on 16 July 1556 at Newbury by a council that had assembled in the choir of the parish church, St Nicholas. He was interrogated about his writings and his religious opinions but stood firm, replying that he ‘forsook the pope’. 

Julius Palmer was committed back to prison in Newbury and was burned on the same day as his trial, at around 5pm on 16 July 1556. He visibly comforted the others who were also to be burned, telling them to trust Christ and ‘rejoice and be martyrs, glad, for great is your reward in heaven’. Although they could kill the body, he said, men were ‘not able to touch the soul’. After he was tied to the stake, he prayed loudly, despite one Newbury man throwing a bundle of firewood at his face so hard Palmer bled. As the attacker was admonished by the sheriff, the flames flickered around Palmer, who held up his hands and beat his chest praying for Jesus to receive his soul. 

But Palmer’s story was not yet over. It was noted that, when the fires had died down and the three men were believed to be dead, Palmer, ‘as a man waked out of sleep, moved his tongue and jaws, and was heard to pronounce this word "Jesus !"’. This was viewed by Foxe and other sympathisers as a miracle, writing, ‘God grant us all to be moved with the like spirit, working in our hearts constantly to stand in defence and confession of Mary’. 

You might also like: 10 Everyday Objects from Tudor Times, Following the Tudors in Plymouth and A Tudor Breakfast.

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Source: 

The Acts and Monuments of John Foxe: A New and Complete Edition with a Preliminary Dissertation by the Rev. George Townsend. R.B. Seeley and W. Burnside. London. 1837. p201-219, Volume 8. 

In the winter of 1776 the national press reported the death of Elizabeth Percy, Duchess of Northumberland, at the age of sixty. The daughter of Algernon Seymour and his wife Francis Thynne, she was a descendant of the famous Seymours of Tudor history, including Edward Seymour Lord Protector of England. Elizabeth was important during her own time too, as a lady of the bedchamber to Queen Caroline (Queen of George III) and a well-known philanthropist of the Georgian era.

The Annual Register of that year reported that Elizabeth's death was a 'public loss which will be long lamented'. She died at her home at Northumberland House in The Strand in London on her sixtieth birthday, 5 December, sometime between 9pm and 10pm. 

Richard Houston, ca. 1721–1775, Elizabeth Countess of Northumberland, Baroness Percy, Lucy, Poynings, Fitzpain, Bryan, and Latimer, 1759, Mezzotint, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, B1977.14.12909. Public Doman.

The Annual Register continued to mark the duchess, who, with her 'most princely fortune, devolved to her from her ancestors, sustained her exalted rank through her whole life with the greatest dignity, generosity and spirit'. She was known for giving funds to help the poor and encouraged the growth and spread of literature and the arts. She also had a 'warm attachment to her friends... goodness to her servants' and a 'tender affection for her family'. 

Unsurprisingly then, many Londoners turned up to pay their respects at the duchess' funeral which took place at Westminster Abbey on 18 December 1776. Before she died Elizabeth had requested a small and private service, but as crowds gathered, so many hovered around the entrance of the abbey that those carrying the coffin found it difficult to enter the abbey's west door, as well as get to St Nicholas' Chapel, where she was to be buried. Men and boys climbed up onto the fabric of St Edmund's Chapel to see the coffin pass, but no sooner had it been carried alongside them, the 500-year old stonework failed and men, boys, stone, oak, brick and iron came tumbling down with centuries of dust, onto the floor. 

The scene was described as one of 'confusion and uproar', with some having broken arms and legs and others 'most terribly hurt'. The coffin was left in St Edmund's Chapel while the dean of the abbey and his attendants checked on those involved in the accident. Eventually, as the chaos subsided, the crowds began to disperse, believing that there was no more ceremony to be seen and that the duchess would be interred quietly later on. With some order restored (and presumably pushing a fair bit of rubble and broken ironwork away) Elizabeth was buried in a service that began between 1pm-2pm, around two and a half hours after the coffin had been brought into the abbey. It was said that even then, the odd cry of 'murder' echoed throughout the ancient walls during the service from some of the injured that remained. 

Elizabeth's husband Hugh Percy, Duke of Northumberland, enquired as to whether anyone in the accident had been hurt and offered to provide some compensation, but this was not taken up by anyone. He gave £600 to be given away in charity and to the poor of Westminster in his wife's name and a monument was erected in the abbey in her memory. Made from white marble, it was designed by Robert Adams and sculpted by Nicholas Read and includes statues of Faith and Hope, the duchess seated on a couch distributing alms to the poor. It was also marked by statues of a lion and unicorn and a pyramid behind. The following inscription was added: 

Near this place lies interred Elizabeth Percy, Duchess of Northumberland, in her own right Baroness Percy, Lucy, Poynings, Fitzpayne, Bryan, and Latimer; sole heiress of Algernon, Duke of Somerset, and of the ancient Earls of Northumberland, She inherited all their great and noble qualities, with every amiable and benevolent virtue. By her Marriage with Hugh Duke of Northumberland, She had issue Hugh Earl Percy, Lady F. Eliz. Percy, who died in 1761, and Lord Algernon Percy. Having lived long an Ornament of Courts, an Honour to her Country, a Pattern to the Great, a Protectress of the Poor, ever distinguished for the most tender Affection for her Family and Friends, She died December 5th, 1776, aged Sixty; Universally beloved, revered, lamented.

Liked this? You might also like my other posts on the Wilders of Berkshire,  George III's Daughters and George II's Huge Fireworks Party of 1749.

You can hear me talking to BBC Radio Berkshire about the Georgian structure Wilder's Folly and the history behind it here. 

Sources:

Annual Register, 1776 via archive.org

Brayley, EW. The History and Antiquities of the Abbey Church of St Peter Westminster. London. 1823

Wilder's Folly has long been associated with the story of the Rev. Henry Wilder and his wife Joan Thoyts. The red-bricked structure towers over the fields of the Sulham Estate on Nunhide Lane, a short walk from either Tilehurst or Calcot in Berkshire. But who were they? Their stories have been lost to time, but I've managed to find scraps of their lives in old newspapers, nineteenth-century pedigrees and monuments. 

Henry Wilder was born in 1744 to John Wilder and his wife Beaufoy Boyle (b.1714). It's believed that his birth took place in Shiplake, at the family home. The earliest Wilders came to the area in the fifteenth century, and had based themselves at the village since then, meaning that it had been the family's ancestral home for centuries. John Wilder was a local government official, serving as a Captain of the Militia and Magistrate. He and Beaufoy had married in 1735, the Newcastle Courant of that year reporting that she was 'an agreeable young lady of £10,000 fortune', over £1.1 million in today's value. Beaufoy also had royal blood, according to nineteenth-century genealogist Bernard Burke. He traced Beaufoy's descent through the dukes of Norfolk in the sixteenth century, back to Edward I and Eleanor of Castile of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. John had relatives that had settled in the American colonies, the first of those travelling as pilgrims in the 1630s.

The couple lived in Shiplake, but also had property in Nunhide Lane, Sulham. John succeeded to his family estates in 1765, settling into an active role locally and into family life with his son Henry and daughters Harriet, Mary Ann and Amy. 

When Henry was around twenty-three years old he married Joan Thoyts, daughter of William Thoyts, a landowner at nearby Sulhamstead. She was a few years younger than Henry, born in 1748, and was around nineteen years old at their wedding. It is at this point that the local legend surrounding Wilder's Folly is believed to have emerged. The tale is that Henry, in love with his future wife, had the folly built in 1769 so that they could both see the structure from their respective homes, reminding them of one another just before their marriage. The tower is said to have later been used as a dovecote. There's limited actual physical evidence for Henry's intention behind the building of the tower, and I have been unable to find proof that it was actually built in 1769 but it does appear as a 'pigeon tower' on a map of 1830, just a decade or two after Henry's death. It's possible the building was always intended as a dovecote, as if it was constructed in 1769, as local legend states, it wouldn't have made sense for the couple to to be gazing out longingly at the tower while they were already married. If so, it doesn't cancel out the romantic legend associated with it. Wealthy families bred pigeons for fertiliser, messaging or as a status symbol or hobby, and so the building may still have meant something to the couple in their early years. 

Wilder's Folly, Nunhide Lane

After their marriage, Henry and Joan had a number of children - eleven in total. Genealogies track only eight of them, but this was because three children died young and are often ignored in family trees that focus on tracing descent. Their children were John (born in 1769), George Lodovick, William (baptised 1773) Francis Boyle Shannon (born in December 1775), Mary Ann (baptised May 1775), Harriett (born 1778), Lucy (baptised 1779)and Charlotte Beaufoy (died in 1870). A son named Henry died at the age of eight, baptised on 7 December 1771 and buried on 18 January 1780. Another, Richard, lived until the age of five, his baptism taking place on 20 September 1776 and his burial on 15 December 1781. A daughter, Joan, was baptised on 25 October 1770 and was buried a few weeks later, on 10 November of the same year.

Henry pursued a career in the church, and received his degree at St John's College in Oxford, where he became a Fellow, later serving as rector of Sulham church. The year 1772 brought the death of Henry's father John, and his succession to the family estates. In 1777 Henry sold the family home at Shiplake and purchased Purley Hall, just off Long Lane in Purley. It was said to have been a brick and stone structure with carved heraldry, grounds, stables, a library and courtyards. He would be known in future correspondence as 'the Rev. Henry Wilder of Purley Hall' although the family were also based at Sulham House, which could be seen from the folly on Nunhide Lane.

Sulham Church

We see Henry appear often in newspaper reports and in papers of the House of Lords. In 1776 he was presented the rectory of Edgecut in Buckinghamshire, and served on the Reading Commission for George III in 1799. In 1783 he was responsible for committing sentenced locals to gaol, and attended judgements in the local courts. In various documents he was permitted by the king to appoint a gamekeeper at Sulham Manor, whose name, in 1795, was Thomas Lovegrove. While Henry was dealing with official and church business, his wife Joan was tending to their growing family, with evidence that she was appointing a governess for the children to ensure their education. In 1777 the couple were both involved in a petition for a Bill at the House of Lords regarding the sale of some of the Thoyts' family estates in Kent. 

Rev. Henry Wilder's Memorial Tablet in Sulham Church

Henry died on 22 June 1814 at Purley Hall, and was buried at Sulham. His monument lists others that are buried with him, including five children who had died young. In a document of 1830 his widow Joan was mentioned as the administrator of Henry's estate, showing that he trusted her to carry out his wishes after his death. It also hints that there was some legal trouble following Henry's death, with Joan asserting her role sixteen years after he died. A newspaper report in the Morning Post of 11 April 1837 shared Joan's death, at the age of 89 in Westminster in London, at Langham Place. She was carried to Sulham to be buried alongside her husband and some of their children. 

Henry and Joan are the subject of a local romantic legend, but that is not where their relationship ended. Married for 45 years, they were figures of local power, justice and spiritual support. They adopted their own roles, Henry in local government and as rector, and Joan as rector's wife and carer of their growing children. They left a trace in legal records, putting both their names to a petition to ensure the sale of Thoyts lands, and seem to have had a happy and long marriage, having to endure the early deaths of five of their infant children. Henry made Joan his administrator after his death, and she asserted her rights as this long after she had lived as his widow. Joan outlived Henry by some years, and would have coped with the loss of some of their adult children. Their eldest, John, died in February 1834. Every time we look up at the towering red-bricked folly in the centre of the Sulham countryside we should remember Henry and Joan, but this was not their only legacy. They were three-dimensional figures who lived through their own grief and challenges. They changed lives, and their descendants went on to serve too, in the church, local government and community.

Liked this? You might also like my other posts about the history of Reading and surrounding villages and towns here. 

You can hear me talking to BBC Radio Berkshire about Wilder's Folly and the history behind it here.