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To mark the centenary of the end of the First World War, Bridget Clifford, Keeper of Tower Armouries, uncovers an extraordinary object, found in the tower stores. This oak board was commissioned to commemorate the Armouries’ staff’s contribution to the war effort, and is currently on display at the White Tower as part of a four year commemorative exhibition.

On 11 July 1917, the Tower Armouries’ Curator Charles ffoulkes wrote to Mr Carpenter, the Tower carpenter, requesting:

“a rough sketch for the Board of frame of oak for the Armouries. I enclose details which should be painted in letters about half an inch caps, and a quarter of an inch small letters. Space should be left for four or five names at the bottom”.

He attached a list of seven names, C ffoulkes, W H Buckingham, T H Williams, D Nash, G Shaw, G Taylor and WA Harwood. Later, changes were made to the board’s original brief. Three extra names were added (T Garnett, J W Griffin and W Heath), as well as ffoulkes’ promotion to Major, Royal Marines, August 1918.

Oak board, showing the names of members of the Armouries staff serving in the war

Tower Armouries Staff War Service Board (xviii.682)

A celebration of contribution

64 years later, in 1981, I came across the Board in store but paid it scant attention. Great War memorials were an established part of the landscape and the celebration of Armistice Day declining. The First World War poets were an integral part of adolescence and 1914 marked the end of history according to my A level syllabus. Most families still had elderly relatives who had taken part in the conflict.

As the centenary of the outbreak of war loomed times had changed. The last surviving combatant died in 2012. Nationwide plans were in hand to commemorate the event. In the White Tower, a rolling 4-year exhibit was underway. The board was the obvious choice for 2018 and I sought it out again to properly assess it.

My assumption that this was a memorial board proved wrong – it celebrates the Armouries’ staff’s contribution to the war effort and its creation was very much in line with ffoulkes concern that insufficient work was being done to preserve a record of this great conflict. So who were these men?

Charles ffoulkes

black and white archive image of a man sat behind his desk, surrounded by arms and armour

Ffoulkes in his office in the Flamsteed Turret, 1916

Charles ffoulkes volunteered for London’s Air Defence, becoming a Lieutenant Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve as a the service came under the Admiralty’s wing. His active involvement secured a unique trophy of a spent German incendiary device and shell cases from the guns returning fire during the first Zeppelin raid on the City of London, 8 September 1915.

A spent German incendiary device and shell case in a display case

A unique trophy (xviii.474 A-C)

In March 1917 ffoulkes accepted the job of Curator and Secretary of the National War Museum (today’s Imperial War Museum). Fortunately the Tower Armouries post was “a rather unusual appointment with a nominal salary, no age limit and no fixed hours of duty”, allowing him to continue in the role on Saturday afternoons and any other spare time.

W.H. Buckingham

Black and white portrait photograph of a man holding a helmet

W.H. Buckingham at the Armouries

Buckingham is one of the two fatalities recorded in the conflict, indicated by a small cross. He is also one of the few Armouries staff of this era we can put a face to. A West Ham lad, Buckingham completed his carpenter’s apprenticeship and joined the Tower in the late 1880s  . Promoted to Armouries’ foreman in the mid -1890s, he also served as a Volunteer Artilleryman spending 1900 on active service in South Africa. He was 44 when he and Williams joined their Regiments in September 1914. Battery Sergeant Major Buckingham, R.F.A served King and Country drilling recruits in Peterborough. Sent home on 3 weeks sick leave he died 15 March 1915 of phthisis (tuberculosis). His funeral in Ilford five days later attracted an enormous crowd and the cortege including ffoulkes was so large it delayed his burial by an hour.

an old black and white photograph of men hoisting a wooden horse into the White Tower

A rare photograph of an Armouries work party in action. May 1913: Foreman Buckingham supervises Henry VIII’s new wooden horse hoisting into the White Tower.

D. Nash

Buckingham’s successor Foreman Nash joined the Armouries in 1892. Enlisting in October 1916 he became attached to the War Trophies section of GHQ France collecting “souvenir” material. He resumed his position as Armouries Foreman in March 1919 finally retiring as Armouries Supervisor 30 October 1942.

Men of mystery

The others named on the Board remain shadowy figures. Able Seaman W.A Harwood served on HMS Pembroke and died Sunday 14 January 1917. He is buried in Paddington Old Cemetery, Kilburn.

Shaw’s appointment is recorded on 3 August 1916, as is his joining the colours four days later. Taylor’s absence in noted on 19 December 1916, the same day A White was appointed to replace Harwood. The 1918 Minute book records Griffin’s January arrival, Thompson and Garnett’s in July; Garnett was dismissed October 1923 – his misdemeanour unspecified.

The board makes no mention of Acting Foreman Bishop, Nash’s substitute. Called up for service 18 December 1916, there is reference to extended service exemption a year later. The Minute Book notes he sounded the all clear at the Tower’s Armistice Parade at 11am on 11.11.1918 explaining he was a bugler (late 1st Hants Regiment). He moved aside on Nash’s return in 1919. It appears Bishop sustained an injury in 1922 which may explain his resignation in February 1925.

The ending of the “war to end all wars” was a defining point in world history and the lives of all those involved would be changed forever. Fighting on the Western Front officially ended at 11.00am on 11 November 1918 – securing peace took longer. ffoulkes organised a gun- crew to join Hyde Park’s gun-salutes celebrating the signing of the Treaty of Versailles (28 June 1919) and finally Lausanne(24 July 1923). He was also involved with a number of war commemorations including the Whitehall Cenotaph, Westminster Abbey’s Tomb of the Unknown Warrior and Tower Hill’s Mercantile Marine Memorial.

Though we may know little about the men on the board itself, we honour their sacrifice so we might live in freedom today.

The Board is currently displayed on the first floor of the White Tower as the centrepiece of “Armstice 11.11.18”

Remember, remember!
The fifth of November,
The Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!

English Folk Verse (about 1870)

We uncover some of the interesting histories surrounding Bonfire night with Bridget Clifford, Keeper of Tower History at the Tower of London.

Tower of London from Tower Hill

The Tower viewed from Tower Hill in about 1850. This photograph is one of the oldest surviving of the site, taken by Mr G Hilditch. In the foreground redundant cannon have been re-cycled into bollards, one acting as the base of a streetlight.

The Times, Friday 7 November 1851

“THAMES – A great number of persons, among whom were several women, were brought before Mr. INGHAM, charged with discharging fireworks in the public thoroughfares on Wednesday evening in celebration of the anniversary of the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot.
The police did not interfere with the discharge of simple fireworks on the large open space on Tower-hill, but many persons commenced firing off pistols and small cannon mounted on very rude carriages and got up a mock bombardment of Her Majesty’s Royal Palace of the Tower of London, to the great amusement of the crowd. The fortress sustained no damage, and it was understood the only loss on the part of the besiegers was a boy’s finger blown off in firing a large horse pistol. The police soon interfered, captured the pistols and cannon with their owners, and lodged them in the station-house. There was a very large display of small arms and powder flasks, which were restored to their owners, who said they only used them on the Powder Plot day, and they were all fined 2s and 6d and 5s each, with the exception of the oldest of the party, who had to pay 10s.”

The exuberant crowd that had gathered on Tower Hill on 5th November 1851 probably had little idea of the Tower’s close involvement in the original suppression of the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 and its aftermath. They were simply obeying government orders laid down by the Thanksgiving Act of 1606 and participating in the annual celebration of the nation’s deliverance as instructed by the intended victims of the plot – King James I and his Parliament.

From the beginning, the authorities faced a dilemma as to how best celebrate a plot that failed? They had to remind people of its potentially catastrophic consequences while not encouraging similar thoughts – or even worse, actions. James Howell in his mid-17th century poem “To the Knowing Reader”, part of his larger work “Epistolae Ho – Elianea”, set the scene:

“Witness that fiery Pile, which would have blown
Up to the Clouds, Prince, People, Peers and Town,
Tribunals, Church and Chapel; and had dry’d
The Thames, tho’ swelling into her highest Pride,
And parboil’d the poor Fish, which from her sands
Had been toss’d up to the adjoining Lands
Had not the eagle’s letter brought to light
That subterranean horrid work of night”

gunpowder treason

Guy Fawkes in action – an earlier illustration pasted into Hepworth Dixon’s ‘The Tower of London vol II’ (1890) to enliven the text.

King James and his ministers’ original vision was of nationwide, annual church services, accompanied by celebratory bell-ringing, and supportive sermons exalting positive aspects of Protestant rule. By the 1640s popular celebrations included a nocturnal bonfire often with an effigy of the Pope or the devil on top of it. Guy Fawkes, the explosives expert employed by the plotters, seems to have inherited the hot seat at the end of the 18th century and bestowed his name on the day, whatever The Times newspaper might say half a century later. Fireworks may or may not have been involved – certainly over the centuries there were many complaints that squibs and other such devices posed a risk and attempts were made to ban them long before the idea of ‘Health & Safety’ entered popular consciousness.

William III, ever the opportunist, took advantage of the established custom when he inaugurated a 2-day celebration. The 4th of November happened to be his birthday and he landed in England on the 5th in 1688 starting the Glorious Revolution and overthrow of his Catholic father-in-law James II in the process. Not unsurprisingly, the 2-day celebration stopped after his death in March 1702, and the 5th reigned supreme as the predominant English state commemoration.

painted wooden head

William III’s wooden head from his mounted figure added to the Horse Armoury display in 1702 – apparently unamused by two-day birthday celebrations. (XVII.45)

By 1845 William Darton’s children’s series of London walks gathered in City Scenes dismissed Guy Fawkes day stating:

“The people of England in general, of late years, have discouraged these processions and riots, and they have become so insignificant as to be noticed only by children.”

Unfortunately, it had to be admitted: “…even in the present time some idle people will fire guns” – hardly our received picture of Victorian London.

Guy Fawkes’ imprisonment and torture in the Tower was well known. The return of the plotter’s powder, all 36 barrels, to government stores there, despite being officially described as “decayed”, perhaps less so. Meanwhile, the 1851 crowd was intent on exercising the right of free speech and action that Tower Hill traditionally afforded them. Considering the period, the authorities appear remarkably tolerant of their behaviour. Only 3 years earlier revolution had erupted throughout Europe ruffling the status quo and alarming the ruling elites. The shadow of the French Revolution (1789-1799) and its aftermath still lurked. Chartism had also peaked in 1848 – causing even the Tower itself to undertake defensive upgrades to counter the threat.

The ‘bombardment’ of 1851, reported in The Times, did not result in the storming of the Tower – although one has to question why cannon were to hand, however rude their carriages – or the overthrow of the Government. It did leave a number of Londoners poorer, if not wiser, and a victim of friendly fire. The affray also has relevance today when counteracting the threat of global terrorism raises questions about individual liberties.

The Thanksgiving Act was repealed on 25 March 1859.

Having existed in one form or another for over 400 years, the Line of Kings is one of the world’s oldest exhibitions. Having been re-arranged countless times over the centuries at the whims of monarchs and curators, the latest display allows visitors to enjoy some of our most spectacular items. In this final blog post, we’ll resume tracing its development from 2011 to present day. Discover the line and its development over the centuries in our Line of Kings blog series.

In 2011, the decision was taken to re-display the ‘Line’ once again. In preparation for this, research was undertaken into both the key objects and the manuscript and printed accounts about them. For example, during 2012 the 17th century wooden horses and selected heads were examined using paint analysis. Some of the heads were submitted for tree ring analysis (dendrochronology) and the horses were examined internally using endoscopy and X-radiography. The War Office and Audit Office account at The National Archives were re-checked. The results showed that the carved horses and heads present interesting differences in materials, construction methods and paintwork. However, it has remained impossible so far to prove definite connections between particular horses or heads and individual carvers named in the 1680s accounts. In early 2013, new designs for the Line of Kings were approved and the 1998 exhibition finally closed after Easter ready for installation of the latest version of this long-running attraction.

The latest Line of Kings display in 2013 is a blend of old and new. All the objects, from the wooden horses and royal heads to the arms and armour, have formed part of one or more of the previous Horse Armoury exhibitions stretching back to the 17th century. However, the latest representation of this famous attraction has been driven by many new factors, from recent research to conservation issues – just as its predecessors were concerned with propaganda and topicality initially, and later combining spectacle and scholarship.

Now, on a busy day, the display is often visited by more people than probably saw the Horse Armoury in a whole year in the 18th century. Not only does today’s exhibition need to cope with many visitors, but these visitors also navigate the gallery – unlike the guided tours of the past. Similarly, the objects and our attitudes to them have changed. Whereas the Line of Kings was conceived as a spectacular, open display with each wooden horse ‘ridden’ by a king in armour that, sadly, is no longer possible. Today, the Royal armours are exhibited inside showcases – and some of the horses can no longer support the weight of an armoured figure.

However, these differences were recognised as opportunities rather than problems – removing the responsibility of trying to recreate a display from the past and providing today’s curators and designers with the chance to produce something new. Unlike its immediate predecessor, today’s Line of Kings occupies the whole of the entrance floor of the White Tower and brings the carved heads and horses and the royal armours together – though mainly not as mounted figures.

From research into the history of former Horse Armoury displays, the Royal Armouries and Historic Royal Palaces project team decided that the new exhibition should introduce present-day visitors to the idea that they are following in the footsteps of millions of others who have seen the Line of Kings at the Tower – the longest running visitor attraction in the world. Fortunately, some early visitors left written accounts of what they did and saw, and a few examples place today’s visitor as part of this never-ending procession.

A row of armours and horses in the Tower of London

The Line of Kings as it appears today.

An important aspect of today’s exhibition is that the wooden horses and royal heads are given equal billing with the arms and armour on show. This was not the case in the past when the carvings were regarded merely as props, commissioned to show off the royal armours to the greatest effect. As visitors, today follow the route they can see the horses from a variety of angles, some bearing figures, some wearing horse armour and others bare.

Part of the story of the Line which today’s display introduces is the change in approach to the objects. While a few armours have been correctly attributed to their owners since the 17th century, most have not. Today’s exhibition shows how scholarly study in the 19th century began to reinterpret objects that formerly had been imaginatively billed as the armours of ‘William the Conqueror’, ‘John of Gaunt’ or a present from ‘the Great Mogul’.

Throughout the gallery information panels and labels feature drawings, prints and photographs of previous versions of the Line. We hope that today’s visitors will picture and comment on their favourites using digital media – leaving a record for those who re-display the Line in the future to reflect its changing yet timeless character.

Having existed in one form or another for over 400 years, the Line of Kings is one of the world’s oldest exhibitions. Having been re-arranged countless times over the centuries at the whims of monarchs and curators, the latest display allows visitors to enjoy some of our most spectacular items. In today’s post, we’ll continue the story of how the Line of Kings transformed between 1869 and 2011.

Despite its great public appeal, the New Horse Armoury was causing the War Office, several problems. The building’s roof leaked badly, despite attempts to repair it in 1869, letting water pour onto the exhibits. Even more serious, the building had not been well-constructed in 1826 and was suffering subsidence. These faults, combined with the wish by some to free the White Tower of the this and other buildings added to it, led to another move for the ‘Line’.

In 1882-3 the wooden horses and their armoured riders were moved to a new location, for the first time inside the White Tower itself. They were installed on the top floor of the building in a large room then called the Council Chamber. This room’s shape and size were not suitable for arranging the figures in a long line, as before. However, the exhibits were still a great attraction for visitors and the chamber became known as the Horse Armoury.

Once it was empty, plans to demolish the New Horse Armoury were made. This would reveal the south side of the Norman White Tower, enhancing the feel of the whole site as a medieval castle.

The demolition of the New Horse Armoury building, which had housed the ‘Line of Kings’ from 1827 to 1882, was completed in about 1885. The display of armoured figures seated on carved wooden horses continued to be one of the site’s top attractions and it was now enjoyed by visitors on the top floor of the White Tower. This floor had large light wells at this time, allowing daylight into the rooms below, so the Horse Armoury was laid out around these features, which had distinctive railings made out of real swords and pistols. Not long after the Horse Armoury was installed in the Council Chamber, electric lighting was introduced to improve visitors’ experience of the exhibition.

The popularity of the new display is reflected in the variety of picture postcards, which from about 1900 onwards provide many different views. The Yeoman Warders no longer led groups of visitors around the Horse Armoury but they had the right to sell postcards of the Tower which many visitors bought as souvenirs, keeping them in albums. Other cards were sent by post to show friends or family the sights that they were missing.

ffoulkes stands beside a seated Dillon, both dressed for attending the royal court

Viscount Dillion and Charles ffoulkes in February 1913.

As well as continuing to develop as a very popular visitor attraction, the Tower Armouries was gradually emerging as the national centre for the scholarly study of arms and armour. After decades of unsuccessful attempts, a curator with academic knowledge of the subject was at last appointed in 1895. Viscount Dillon was the author of many books and articles and he set about carefully researching the collection, which had previously been in the care of the War Office Storekeeper and his assistants. The task was challenging as ‘a huge mass of rubbish and spurious armour were allowed even then to remain amongst the historic and genuine specimens. It is only since Lord Dillon undertook the great task, on which he is still engaged, of re-arranging and re-cataloguing the arms and armour in the White Tower, that it can be properly studied and appreciated’. Dillon retired from the curator’s post in 1913 and was replaced by another armour scholar, Charles ffoulkes. By the start of the First World War in 1914, almost the entire White Tower was filled with Armouries displays.

The White Tower

Inscribed with “OURS” Today”. April. 10. 1916. C.ff. by the curator Charles ffoulkes to mark the opening of the entire White Tower to the public as the ‘Armouries at the Tower of London’.

Combining popular visitor appeal with academic research into the history of arms and armour, the displays were improved and better catalogues and guidebooks published. The royal armours and the carved horses remained important attractions, sometimes arranged like a procession, sometimes in a row along the walls. Some were even moved to different rooms, depending on whether they were exhibited chronologically or by type. Occasionally it was necessary to dispose of one or two of the 17th-century wooden horses which had become rotten, adding modern replacements instead.

In the 1970s and 1980s restoration work on selected 17th-century horses provided opportunities for research into their materials and construction. This showed that they differ greatly internally and are rare survivals of carvings by leading craftsmen of their day. At the same time, research by Dr Alan Borg at The National Archives identified orders and invoices from their commissioning, as well as tracing early visitor accounts and printed guides. After many decades when the ‘Line of Kings’ was divided, interest grew in recreating a Horse Armoury in the White Tower.

Research into the history of the ‘Line of Kings’ using archives, historic photographs and surviving objects had revealed the unusual and fascinating story of a display at the Tower that had been attracting paying visitors since the seventeenth century. Following the establishment during the 1990s of two new Royal Armouries Museums, one at Fort Nelson, Hampshire for the artillery collection and the other in a purpose-built headquarters at Leeds, it was possible for the Armouries displays at the Tower to focus on the history of that site in particular. The conditions were therefore right for a re-display of all the galleries of the White Tower, including one representing the Horse Armoury or ‘Line of Kings’, giving an impression of how it had once looked.

A room full of armour

The Line of Kings on display in 1966.

This posed several problems that Dr Geoffrey Parnell, Christopher Gravett and their colleagues grappled with. One difficulty was that not all the objects that had previously formed the display in the Horse Armoury could be identified in the collection. In addition, some of the most important pieces of the surviving arms and armour were now displayed at the new Royal Armouries Museum, Leeds. For these and other reasons, it was therefore decided that ‘There is neither the space nor enough surviving horses to reconstruct the entire Line. Moreover, its composition changed during the centuries of display…The Line today [1998], therefore seeks to give a modern interpretation of this unusual exhibition’.

In addition, this re-interpretation of the ‘Line’ also faced a challenge because research into the history of arms and armour over the previous 200 years had revealed that in many cases previous assertions that the kings were shown wearing their actual armour were wildly incorrect. This would have made it very confusing for visitors if Elizabethan armour had once again been used on the figures of medieval kings. In the end, the mounted figures in armour were represented by only one figure, wearing a plain early 17th century Greenwich armour of the type known to have been used in the Line. However, research into the objects had added greatly to the picture established by Dr Alan Borg in the 1970s. The display has been seen by millions, including Queen Elizabeth and Prince Charles.

Having existed in one form or another for over 400 years, the Line of Kings is one of the world’s oldest exhibitions. Having been re-arranged countless times over the centuries at the whims of monarchs and curators, the latest display allows visitors to enjoy some of our most spectacular items. In this series of blog posts, we’ll bring you the story of how the Line of Kings has transformed from 1547 right through to the present day.

The figure of George II, added as the seventeenth equestrian figure in the Line of Kings’ in 1768, was the last ever made for the display. The need for an exhibition illustrating the benefits of warrior kings had perhaps disappeared during the reign of George III. However, the Horse Armoury remained one of the great attractions for visitors to London. In 1786, Sophie von La Roche recorded in her diary seeing the royal figures on horseback, concluding ‘It is a fine sight, and looks very much more warlike than the modern uniform’.

At this time the study of the history of arms and armour was developing a better understanding of the changing techniques and styles over the centuries. The antiquarian Francis Grose published a pioneering study which illustrated many objects from the Tower Armouries. He also noted ‘many of the figures of our kings, shewn in the Tower of London, are the work of some of the best sculptors of the time in which they were set up’. However, the historical research served to highlight that the ‘Line’ was more fantasy and propaganda than fact.

The earliest known images of the Horse Armoury show the display at about this time. Although the architecture of the room in the New Storehouse is heavily distorted, they give an idea of the row of royal figures along the centre of the room, with groups of visitors led around behind the horses first and then shown the kings from George II to William the Conqueror.

Thomas Rowlandson’s views also show the mass displays of armour on the walls and ceiling, as well as a Yeoman Warder guiding a party of visitors. Rudolph Ackermann published an aquatint of the display by Rowlandson and Augustus Pugin in 1809 with William Combe’s description of the royal figures as ‘large as life and some of them appear in the suits which those sovereigns actually wore. This room presents a very striking spectacle’.

Coloured drawing of the Horse Amoury in 1809

Horse Armoury, Tower of London by Rowlandson and Pugin, 1809

By the 1820s opinions about the display were becoming increasingly divided. John Whitcomb Bayley wrote that the royal figures ‘are in fine armor, on horseback and have altogether a grand and most imposing effect’. Although Polish visitor Krystyn Lach-Szyrma was unimpressed, recording ‘there is little art in them and they look like horrible monsters, blank and in poor taste, not worth looking at unless by children or the rabble’.

However, the harshest critic was Britain’s leading authority on the history of armour, Dr Samuel Rush Meyrick, who complained about the displays at the Tower:

‘Notwithstanding the sneers of interested individuals, the Tower contains some very fine and unique specimens…I cannot help lamenting that, in this enlightened age, persons visiting curiosities intrinsically valuable, as these certainly are, should continue to be deceived by such false representations’.

Armour expert Dr Meyrick criticised the state of the displays at the Tower in his writings and volunteered to rearrange them. His offer was approved by the Board of Ordnance and the Constable of the Tower, the Duke of Wellington. In 1826, Meyrick began his project which involved moving the Horse Armoury away from the dark and dingy New Storehouse.
A purpose-built New Horse Armoury had been constructed adjoining the south side of the White Tower. Meyrick was not involved in this building’s design, which he and others disliked. It was one of Britain’s earliest purpose-built museum buildings, with a colonnade of pointed arches running down its centre, in front of which the ‘kings’ on their horses stood. Visitors were guided in front of and behind these to view various standing figures in armour and the many helmets, breastplates and weapons on the walls and ceiling.

Meyrick’s aim was ‘to make this collection historically useful’ and he thus offered to ‘arrange the horse armoury in the Tower chronologically’ for the first time and ‘founded on the basis of truth’. In addition to converting the display from propaganda to education, Meyrick also improved the appearance of the ‘Line’ so that ‘Instead of one position as heretofore for the whole, though there are two and twenty figures on horseback and ten on foot, there are no two attitudes alike, no very easy matter to effect’. To achieve his aim of factually accuracy Meyrick changed the display from the monarchs-only approach of 1690-1826, creating a line in which kings were alongside princes and noblemen, just as they had been before 1688. He also added a figure of James II for the very first time – substituting for his brother Charles II.

Stereoscopic image of two mounted armours on the North side of the Horse Armoury, about 1870.

The New Horse Armoury in the 1870s

The new building and its exhibition were opened in 1827 and soon were described and pictured in books and magazines, like The Penny Magazine which featured more detailed images than previously. A wide range of publications spread the word that this was an attraction not to be missed: ‘Few who have not actually seen the Horse Armoury can appreciate its strikingly picturesque character; that is certainly a pleasure which even the most hurried visitor cannot be deprived of’. The destruction by fire of the Grand Storehouse and its displays in 1841 raised the Horse Armouries’ profile.

Good publicity combined with a reduction in Armouries admission charges in the late 1830s, from two shillings to six pence per person, increased visitor numbers rapidly. Now the attraction was not solely the preserve of the well-connected and wealthy. In fact, the displays became almost too popular and there were complaints that the guides led their groups of visitors around so quickly that they could not see the armour properly.

The first official guidebook to the Tower and Armouries was written by John Hewitt in 1841, followed by the Official Catalogue of the Arms and Armour. New acquisitions were made to improve the collection but keeping the display not only looking fresh but also in line with scholarship proved a struggle. By 1866 Baron de Ros wrote ‘it is beginning to require a fresh inspection and arrangement, similar to that made by the late Dr Meyrick’.

James Robinson Planché was a playwright, historian, and Herald at the College of Arms. In addition, he was an expert on arms and armour, leading him to suggest the appointment of a curator of the Armouries, without success. After arranging an armour exhibition at the South Kensington (now Victoria and Albert) Museum, Planché himself was invited by the War Office to re-arrange the New Horse Armoury and other displays in 1869. He accepted, aiming to enable ‘the general visitor to form, even at a rapid and passing glance, some idea of the progress of art and gradual change of fashion, from the 12th to the 18th century’. Planché improved the spectacle of the Line of equestrian figures while grouping the arms and armour chronologically. He also removed the large banners above the riders installed by Dr Meyrick in 1826–7, adding informative labels so visitors would not have to rely on the descriptions given by the Yeoman Warder guides.

Engravings in books and magazines remained an important medium for illustrating the displays, but from the late 1860s photographers were successfully taking pictures inside the New Horse Armoury. These photographs provide a more accurate record than many of the engravings, and comparing pictures taken at different dates shows that further small changes continued on a regular basis. Many stereo-photographs were sold to be viewed in 3-D through stereoscopes, as souvenirs to be collected in albums and as magic lantern slides for projecting. As this spread awareness of the displays, so at last admission to the armouries came within reach of the working classes. After much debate, the sixpence per person entry charge was removed in 1875 on certain ‘free days’. This allowed admission to the Horse Armoury to those who were willing to queue on a Monday or Saturday, however poor they were. It proved extremely popular and greatly increased the number of visitors who saw the displays.

Lord Kitchener in uniform and his trademark moustache

“The Man who gets things done” Vol 1 The Great War ed Wilson & Hammerton (London, 1914) – courtesy of Bridget Clifford

In this monthly blog series, our collections team will write about their Object of the Month, chosen from our collection. This month Bridget Clifford, Keeper of the Tower Armouries, examines the very different histories of two Lord Kitchener documents in the Royal Armouries’ collection, which form part of a new display at the Tower of London.

One hundred years after the original Kitchener memorial display was mounted in the White Tower at Tower of London, a new one ‘Britain’s Greatest Soldier‘ will be on show there from the end of July 2017.

“K” in memoriam

A crowd of people watching an address by Lord Kitchener

Hat’s off to Lord Kitchener, here addressing a recruiting meeting. Stereographic photograph entitled “No 149 Lord Kitchener with Lord Mayor addressing a recruiting meeting” (Realistic Travels Publishers. London -Capetown – Bombay – Melbourne – Toronto) about 1914. Courtesy and copyright of Bridget Clifford.

A career soldier who had made his name in Africa and India, Kitchener was a popular choice as Secretary of State for War. Much was made of his “splendid physique, his manly bearing, his unaffected manner, his quick apprehension of difficulties and ready resourcefulness”; others were concerned at his lack of experience in European warfare.

The newspaper headlines of 7 June 1916 sent shock waves through Britain and her Empire. German mine sinks HMS Hampshire off the coast of Scotland. Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, Secretary of State for War listed among the 600 missing. As the story unfolded over the next few days so did conspiracy theories. “K”, as he was affectionately known, had been travelling to Russia with a small party of trusted advisers for secret talks. Kitchener was last sighted on the quarter deck “walking quite coolly and collectedly talking to two of his officers”. Leading Seaman Charles Walter Rogerson, one of only twelve survivors, reported to the Admiralty Enquiry “Lord Kitchener went down with the ship” (The Times 15 June). Kitchener’s body was never recovered and he remains the highest ranking British soldier to die on active service in the First World War.
On the same day as the news of the tragedy broke, the satirical magazine Punch published a cartoon by its art editor FH Townsend highlighting Kitchener’s continuing failure to make due provision for the Volunteer Force (the First World War equivalent of the Home Guard)

Cartoon of Lord Kitchener standing on a chair issuing weapons from the Tower of London

“Has Lord Kitchener, in his passionate desire to encourage the Volunteers, ever thought of the untapped resources of the Tower of London?”

The Times military correspondent wrote of Kitchener “He towered over all his contemporaries in individuality as he did in inches [at 6ft 2 in], and though often he stood alone, his personality was enough to carry him triumphantly through difficulties which would have ruined many a more brilliant man… He was in some ways a shy man, and he courted popularity neither with the public nor the Army”. While his detractors would have seen the cartoon as typifying his shortcomings, Kitchener retained widespread public support. In the words of the Australian Prime Minister “He was the man whose name and personality seemed to stand as the veritable embodiment of the British race in this the greatest crisis of its history”.
Suddenly the cartoon became inappropriate. As the nation mourned the loss of their hero, it quietly slunk into the shadows.

Meanwhile at the Tower of London, the Tower Armouries’ Curator Charles ffoulkes fresh from April’s triumphant opening of museum displays throughout the whole of the White Tower and publishing the catalogue of the collection began to gather material for a small tribute to Lord Kitchener. It would sit alongside the sword of Field Marshal Viscount Garnet Wolseley and revolver of Field Marshal Lord Roberts VC – popular military figures both recently deceased – together with a display of Allies’ swords just before the public route exited the White Tower.

Kitchener’s death provoked a great outpouring of public grief, skilfully harnessed by the authorities to fund the war effort. In May 1915 Kitchener had penned four copies of a letter “for the purpose of reproduction” to raise funds for the Red Cross. He is said to have quipped that if he had to write it again he would have conscription right away. The best was chosen and the other three destroyed.

Letter from Lord Kitchener

“which Lord Kitchener wrote with his own hand” dated 16th May 1915 on embossed War Office paper (KIT 1)

The Times 14th June 1916 announced its sale by auction at the end of the month. It generated a marketing campaign worthy of any modern agency. The letter was placed on public display in the Gift House, 48, Pall Mall, and a daily record of bids received was posted in the window and published in The Times. The only stipulation was that the purchaser must not let it go outside the British Empire, and it was hoped it would eventually be given to one of the national museums.

The highest bidders gathered at the Gift House on the 30th June and as the clock struck 5.00pm Mr Thomas Fenwick Harrison secured “one of the most highly prized documents of the War” with a £6,000 bid. It was rumoured he had been prepared to pay up to £10,000.

A former Liverpudlian shipping owner, Mr Harrison had retired to Hitchin, Hertfordshire. A generous Red Cross benefactor, he had already provided motor ambulances for service at the Front. He proposed a country-wide tour of the letter starting in July at Hitchin. Thereafter, local authorities could bid for it, monies raised going to the Red Cross. At the same time facsimiles produced by Messrs Raphael Tuck and Sons would be sold costing from one shilling to the deluxe edition at ten shillings and sixpence. “It is thought that many people will like to have a copy as a souvenir or for sending overseas to friends who will never see the original. Buyers will also have the satisfaction of knowing they are helping the Red Cross funds” The Times advised. Not perhaps a modern sentiment, but no stranger than gifting a copy of Shakespeare’s works to each soldier disabled during the war in memory of Lord Kitchener as approved by George V later that year.

Unfortunately, Mr Harrison’s unexpected death on 29th December 1916 brought everything to an abrupt halt.

Back at the Tower, ffoulkes had accepted F.H. Townsend’s gift of the original cartoon on December 5th and put it in store. He had also contacted Mr Harrison regarding the future home of Kitchener’s letter. The Tower Diary 16th January 1917 notes “It is believed that Mr Harrison’s wish was found written on his blotting pad and that this was allowed by his executors”. By the 20th January the letter was on public display in the Record Room of the White Tower.

Carved wooden head of man with moustache

Carved wooden head of Lord Kitchener. British, early 20th century (XVIII.50)

Visit our Collections Online to read the collection records for the “Punch cartoon” and “Kitchener’s letter“.

Having existed in one form or another for over 400 years, the Line of Kings is one of the world’s oldest exhibitions. Having been re-arranged countless times over the centuries at the whims of monarchs and curators, the latest display allows visitors to enjoy some of our most spectacular items. In this series of blog posts, we’ll bring you the story of how the Line of Kings has transformed from 1547 right through to the present day.

James II came to the throne following the death of his brother Charles II in February 1685, and at his hastily arranged coronation on 23 April the new king broke with the tradition of making a procession from the Tower to Westminster Abbey. However, the Tower featured in James’s plans in several other ways.

The officers of the Board of Ordnance wasted no time in ordering George Frankline to commission a carved wooden horse and a figure with its wooden head representing Charles II. The intention was to update the Horse Armoury so that the display featured not only the figure of Charles I – James II’s father – but also his brother. However, adding Charles II was to cause some unforeseen difficulties.

During June 1685, Frankline contacted Grinling Gibbons, one of the leading woodcarvers in England. Six months later Gibbons’ workshop had supplied the wooden horse and figure at a cost of £40. At eight times the cost of the horse made by Thomas Cass in 1669, it seems likely that Gibbons’ carvings outshone the existing ones. In 1686 the Board, placed another order with Gibbons’ workshop – this time for a horse and figure of Charles I.

A golden armour

The gilt armour of Charles I that has stood in the Line of Kings since the Restoration

The upgraded display featured eleven mounted figures by early 1688 but the decision to replace the Old Ordnance Storehouse with a new Grand Storehouse marked the end of this phase of the Horse Armoury. Thomas Cass moved the wooden horses into storage in the White Tower, but while the old storerooms were being demolished and work on the new Storehouse started there seems to have been a change of plan. The Board of Ordnance started commissioning new carved horses and figures, this time at £20 a piece, from five workshops, those of William Emmett, William Morgan, John Nost, Thomas Quellin, and Marmaduke Townson.

The plan was clearly for an expanded and improved Horse Armoury in a new location. Although the surviving documents do not explain this, there was an even more significant change that was made at this moment. Whereas the display previously featured not only kings but also noblemen and warriors, the carved faces of the new figures were made to produce a ‘Line of Kings’ exclusively.

However, although the contracts were issued in the summer of 1688 and the first carvings started arriving by the autumn, King James II’s reign was to be over before the year ended. On 5 November, Prince William of Orange, James II’s nephew and son-in-law, landed with an invasion force at Torbay – invited by leading Protestant politicians who feared James II’s pro-Catholic policies.

On 23 December, James II fled abroad, effectively abdicating in favour of his daughter and son-in-law, who were soon crowned Queen Mary II and King William III. Meanwhile, the Horse Armoury remained closed to visitors. To compensate George Frankline, who profited from the admission fees that visitors paid, the Board of Ordnance agreed to pay him the considerable sum of £70 per year. These payments continued until 1692 when a brand new and improved exhibition was open for business.

The Glorious Revolution

During 1689, as William III and Mary II were crowned joint monarchs, wooden horses and figures ordered the previous summer were delivered to the Tower by the carvers’ workshops of Emmett, Morgan, Nost, Quellin, and Townson. All was ready to open a new display, but not in the recently-built Grand Storehouse. The location for the ‘Line of Kings’ was the first floor of the New Storehouse (today called the New Armouries).

The exhibition deliberately focused on the monarchy, consisting of fourteen kings in a line from William the Conqueror to Charles II. This was almost certainly not by chance; kingship was a key issue, as James II had abandoned the throne and been replaced by his daughter Mary and son-in-law William. This time there were no princes or noblemen in the display as there were previously. In order to achieve this ‘Line of Kings’, the exhibition’s organisers had to deliberately ignore the known facts about certain armours, such as that of the Earl of Leicester, and assign them to a king instead.The earliest known account of the new display is an extraordinary one, following the earthquake which shook London on 8 September 1692.
In a letter of 24 September George Follett wrote of the tremors at the Tower ‘…there above stairs all the heroes and their horses are set forth in armour. Suffering such a shock it was great prowess in them to stand their ground…’
As its fame began to spread, the Horse Armoury display began to be featured in guidebooks for visitors to London. In 1693, Francois Colsoni wrote (in translation from the original French):

‘…Then you will be led to the upper area where you will be shown many Kings on Horseback and the Armour of both the Cavalry and Infantry which are kept there in good condition: you must also each give two sous on exit’.

Each visitor paid admission fees and was conducted around by a guide, either as a member of a small group or, at extra cost, individually. By 1699 the Horse Armoury featured in one of Ned Ward’s monthly humorous accounts of London life:

‘As we gently mov’d along and viewed the princely scarecrows, he told us to whom each suit of armour did belong originally, adding some memorandums out of history to every empty iron-side; some true, some false, supplying that with invention which he wanted in memory. …I could not forbear reflecting on some appearances before me, till I fancy’d myself sunk into Death’s subterranean territories where the just and the wicked, by the impartial Skeleton, are equally respected. From thence we pass’d by several princes’ armour, of which nothing was deliver’d but a bare name, till we had completed our round and came again to the door. This being the conclusion of this warlike opera, we paid our money and made our exit’.

William III died on 3 March 1702 and an armoured figure of this warrior king on horseback was quickly added to the Line.

When the figure of William III was added to the display in 1702 it increased the ‘Line of Kings’ to fifteen. The wooden head of William was carved by Nicholas Alcock and uniquely some of the original furnishings for his horse survive.

Carved wooden head of man with large nose

The wooden head of William III

The display continued to figure as an attraction to see in London guides such as Hatton’s ‘New View of London’, which makes clear that guides conducted visitors on tours of kings, from William III back in time to William the Conqueror, rather than giving an account of the history of arms and armour.

Visitors to the Tower came from many parts of Britain, from mainland Europe, and as far away as India and America. The high admission costs limited the number of visitors, however, and restricted them to the upper classes, unless they had a friend who could arrange free entry. In 1785, William Hutton, a successful businessman and enthusiastic local historian from Birmingham, recorded his poor opinions of the display: ‘In the horse armory … the royal regiment of kings, drawn up in battalia, and shown to strangers, fell short of expectation. They seemed bigger than life, which is an unpardonable error in the statuary’.

His disappointment was greater because as a young man in 1749 he had wanted to see the Tower but his ‘Derbyshire accent quickly brought the warders out of their lodge; who, on seeing the dust abound on my shoes wisely concluded that money could not abound in my pocket; and, with the voice of authority, ordered me back’.

Having existed in one form or another for over 400 years, the Line of Kings is one of the world’s oldest exhibitions. Having been re-arranged countless times over the centuries at the whims of monarchs and curators, the latest display allows visitors to enjoy some of our most spectacular items. In this series of blog posts, we’ll bring you the story of how the Line of Kings has transformed from 1547 right through to the present day.

Long before the Line of Kings was first opened, the Tower of London was home to what was referred to as the Horse Armoury. Like the Line of Kings, the Horse Armoury displayed suits of armour posed upon wooden horses but its origins are still somewhat uncertain.

Before 1652 there are no known records of wooden horses as part of the Tower Armouries displays in either inventories or visitor accounts. However, on 25 March 1652, a young Dutch visitor called Lodewijck Huygens recorded in his journal that he had seen the displays in the Old Ordnance Storehouses while looking around the Tower.
Huygens wrote that their guide:

‘took us first to the armouries where armour, mostly new and tested, for 10,000 men was stored. After this, we entered a room where horse armour used in former times was stored on wooden horses with armed men on them. There were two suits of armour worn by Henry VII and two worn by Henry VIII themselves; they were not very costly though. Another remarkable suit of armour here belonged to John of Gaunt, a renowned warrior of a few hundred years ago, who had been more than a head taller than any person of our time…’

It is unlikely that there was a royal armour exhibition during the Commonwealth but many essential ingredients were present for what was to follow. So where had they come from and why? Although there is no conclusive proof that these horses had recently been brought to the Tower from Greenwich Palace, circumstantial evidence suggests that they may well have been transferred to the Tower as part of a re-organisation of the national armoury.

On 5 April 1650, George Payler, Surveyor of the Ordnance, had carried out an inventory and recorded that in the storehouse at the Armoury of Greenwich there were ‘Wooden horses with Statues of Men mounted on them, most of them armed with equipage for Horse’. In 1650-51, the Ordnance officers decided that Edward Annesley should move the old armour from Greenwich Palace to the Tower. It is possible that as part of this process the wooden horses were also brought to the Tower. However, an alternative explanation is that a set of new horses was made for the Tower and those at Greenwich were perhaps disposed of.

No documentary evidence is available to determine which explanation is correct. However, it is known that there had been wooden horses for mounting armour in the storerooms at Greenwich Palace since at least 1547 when the inventory of King Henry VIII’s goods recorded eight such objects. By 1629, there were twelve horses recorded in an inventory that was taken at Greenwich Palace. It is possible, therefore, that some if not all of the ten horses remaining at Greenwich in 1650 were quite old. If any were brought to the Tower and still survive it is possible that they could be identified by tree-ring dating (dendrochronology), if an opportunity to study any oak inside the horses should arise. However, as this would have to be carried out in a non-destructive way, it may be a long time before scientifically calculated dates can be obtained for the felling of the trees used in the manufacture of these remarkable horses.

The Restoration

A king with long dark hair sits on a throne in stately robes and holding the orb and mace of state

Charles II, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

On 29 May 1660, Charles II returned to London from exile and after the 11-year Interregnum, the monarchy was restored. Efforts quickly started to retrieve royal property which had been dispersed, including the arms and armour from the armouries. At the beginning of August, the King issued a commission at Whitehall for the audit of all arms, armour, and tools that were at the Tower, Greenwich and other royal sites.

On 4 August 1660, Charles II visited the Tower of London where he dined with Sir John Robinson, whom he had recently appointed Constable of the Tower. A fortnight later, William Legge, whom the King had re-appointed Master of the Armouries, was issued with £100 towards making an inventory of all the goods belonging to the Office of Armoury.
Legge appointed a team who recorded every item of arms and armour, producing a report entitled A View & Survey of all the Armour…remayneing at the Tower of London, Taken in the month of October 1660. This recorded that in the Lieutenant’s Hall stood ten wooden horses with statues of men on them, dressed in armour and named; Prince Henry, Henry VIII, Henry VII, Edward III, Charles I, Edward IV, Henry VI, Leicester, Brandon, and William the Conqueror.

This is the earliest evidence of all the figures comprising a Horse Armoury at the Tower but the inventory poses a problem. The location at which the items were seen is not thought to have had a high enough ceiling at this date to have accommodated figures on horseback. Could there have been an error in the inventory or is it possible that at this time the display was in pieces, not complete?

One thing that the list of figures makes very clear is that the content was at this point made up of a mixture of monarchs and noblemen – it was not yet a ‘Line of Kings’. Indeed, there is no evidence that the display actually had a name yet. However, by good fortune, one visitor who saw it while visiting the Tower less than twelve months later has left us a good description in his journal. On 15 August 1661, Willem Schellinks, a Dutch artist who had only arrived in London the previous day, took a guided tour of the Tower.

He describes seeing in the Long Storehouse:

‘…behind a rail the body armour of several Kings and their horses’ armour are lined up in a row, of very ancient and uncommon fashion, but all well looked after and kept polished. According to their keeper, there is the armour of Prince Henry, King Henry VIII, King Henry VII, Edward III, Charles I, Edward IV, Henry VI, the Duke of Gloucester, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and that of William the Conqueror’.

It appears that Schellinks mistakenly wrote Duke of Gloucester when he was shown the figure of the Earl of Leicester – in which case his list exactly matches the 1660 inventory.

A growing attraction

On 22 April 1661, Charles II left the Tower of London to make the traditional coronation procession to Westminster before being crowned king in the Abbey the following day. He was the last monarch to travel from the Tower through the streets of London as part of a lavish parade watched by thousands of his people.

The Tower of London had ceased to be used as a royal palace but still remained an important fortress and state prison, as well as home to government departments such as the Armouries, Ordnance, and Mint. However, over the next twenty-five years the Tower also increasingly developed as one of London’s must-see visitor attractions for those who could afford to pay for admission. The Tower’s principal attractions for visitors were the Royal Menagerie, Crown Jewels, and Tower Armouries.

During the 1660s, Samuel Pepys, who lived and worked nearby at the Navy Board, was a frequent Tower visitor on both business and pleasure, probably benefitting from free admission through his contacts. In 1666, General Patrick Gordon, who was visiting London, recorded in his diary that he spent ‘…in wages one pound thirteen shillings’, a very large sum at the time. Both saw the Tower Armouries, which were also visited by foreign visitors who could make comparisons with what they had seen abroad.

On 23 April 1669, Cosimo III, Grand Duke of Tuscany recorded: ‘The tower also contains the armoury, in which various sorts of arms are preserved, but they are neither very numerous nor very valuable; among these are some of Henry VIII; of the Duke of Lancaster and of the Earl of Suffolk’.

Rather more impressed was French mapmaker and traveller, Albert Jouvin de Rochefort, who wrote of his visit in 1672 ‘Our conductor showed us…some (armour) which had been worn by the different kings of England during their wars; they were all gilded and engraved in the utmost perfection.’

Throughout Charles II’s reign the Horse Armoury, as it was called by 1675, seems to have been an important part of the Tower displays of arms and armour. However, it appears to have undergone only minor improvements, such as the carving of a new wooden horse by carpenter Thomas Cass in 1669 and repainting of the horses in 1682-3 by Valentine Bayley.

Inventories were taken, listing the ten equestrian figures until it seems that some changes started to be made in 1681 when one wooden horse and two suits of armour were sent to Windsor Castle. However, much greater changes to the Horse Armoury rapidly followed the death of King Charles II on 6 February 1685 and the succession of his brother as James II.

Bridget Clifford recounts the stories of just some of the men held in the Tower of London on espionage charges during the First World War.

Fernando Buschmann was the seventh of eleven spies shot at the Tower of London between November 1914 and April 1916, and at 25 years old the second youngest. A Brazilian with a German father and Danish mother, he was educated in Europe. Having initially been interested in the business of aviation, business failures saw him return to Brazil. However, he would return to Europe in 1912 working in partnership with Marcelino Bello in a business importing food from Germany and England and exporting Brazilian bananas and potatoes. He met a Dresden girl, married her in London and all looked set for a rosy future.

A young man in a black suit and tie

Fernando Buschmann

In 1913 the Hamburg office of Buschmann and Bello opened, with Fernando travelling between Brazil and Europe. Success was short-lived – by September 1914 the German office had closed and Buschmann’s name was removed from the firm’s title as it was considered bad for business. Leaving his family in Dresden, he travelled throughout Europe arriving in London in April 1915. With paranoia surrounding espionage and anti-German sentiment at their height, this was to prove fatal.

Buschmann’s commercial interests had widened to include boots, mules, and guns for the French government. Despite this, he was perennially short of money, and it was his begging telegrams to a Dutch contact, “Flores”, that alerted British Counter-Intelligence. Buschmann was to claim that he had no idea that this individual was a German spymaster, but having attracted the attention of the authorities, his business activities were closely monitored. In June 1915 he was arrested.

Typed letter marked "secret" with some information removed

The first page of Buschmann’s charge sheet. Sensitive information has been removed.

During questioning he claimed his business in England was to sell picric acid (an explosive), rifles, and cloth. He admitted to formerly selling flour and potatoes “but not cigars” – a number of the other spies captured at the time had been involved with the latter, and the use of tobacco products as code words was suspected. In Buschmann’s case fruit fell under suspicion as Major Drake commented in his review of the evidence “…should we be far out in suggesting that bananas and battleships are interchangeable terms?”

Buschmann was cautioned in both French and English and faced four charges under Section 48 of the Defence of the Realm (Consolidation) Regulations 1914 – in other words, he was accused of espionage, a capital crime.

Court martialled in September and unable to satisfactorily explain his dealings with known German agents, his woeful business record, trips to Southampton and Portsmouth, and the presence of invisible ink in his record books, he was found guilty. In his defence, he argued “I was never a soldier or a sailor, and I am absolutely ignorant of all military matters. I am not a good businessman as I am more wrapped up in my music than business.”

Buschmann's Death Certificate.

Buschmann’s Death Certificate. The medical officer officiating at Buschmann’s execution was Francis Woodcock Goodbody (1870- 1938). In civilian life, he was a researcher in chemistry and medicine at University College, London.

Buschmann was sentenced to death by firing squad and transferred to the Tower on 18th October. He was permitted the solace of his violin which he played throughout the night. The sentence was carried out at 7:00am on the 19th October at the Tower Rifle Range.

Bridget Clifford recounts the stories of just some of the men held in the Tower of London on espionage charges during the First World War.

Three months into the First World War as the combatants on the Western Front learnt the grim reality of trench warfare in the 1st battle of Ypres, and that it would not all be over by Christmas, the Tower of London found itself once more a place of execution.

Three hundred years after Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex and former favourite of Queen Elizabeth I became the last man beheaded on site (25th February 1601), Carl Hans Lody faced an eight man firing squad at the Tower found guilty of war treason against Great Britain.

Man in black suit gazes defiantly at the camera

Carl Hans Lody

Born and educated in Germany, Lody completed a year’s service in the German Navy from 1900-1901 then joined the merchant fleet while remaining a naval Reservist. Working on English, Norwegian, and American ships he travelled extensively, latterly as a tourist agent running excursions for the Hamburg – Amerika line. In 1912, he met and married a wealthy American lady of German descent and they planned to make their home in the States. Unfortunately, the marriage was short-lived and in July 1914 Lody found himself aged 39, unattached, $10,000 dollars richer thanks to his former father-in-law, and determined to emigrate. He contacted the general office of the German Naval Office seeking release from the Reserve, citing an illness in 1904 which had rendered him unfit for active service.

Summoned for interviews in August it was suggested that he might undertake some naval intelligence gathering in England before relocating to America. Despite his reservations as to his suitability for the role, the 27th August saw him disembarking at Newcastle as Charles Inglis an American tourist. Moving to Edinburgh, he sent his first telegram to Adolf Burchard in Stockholm on 30th August. Lody was unaware that the address was known to the British authorities who were already conducting stringent and very successful postal censorship, and who would monitor his future correspondence.

Cycling round Edinburgh he relayed observations, gossip, and newspaper cuttings in further letters to Burchard. Trips to London, Liverpool, and Killarney in Ireland followed and the increasing quality of information aroused sufficient alarm for the Royal Irish Constabulary to be alerted. Charles Inglis was detained on 2nd October under the Defence of the Realm Act as a suspected German agent. Instituted on the 8th August 1914, the Defence of the Realm Act made espionage a military offence to be tried by court martial and punishable with the death penalty.

Brought to London and held at Wellington Barracks, Lody’s court martial was conducted at the Middlesex Guildhall, Westminster Broadway from Friday 30th October to Monday 2nd November. The proceedings were open to the public but the court was cleared for sentencing. On the 4th November, secret written instructions were issued to the general officer commanding London district stating that His Majesty confirmed the findings of the court and that Lody should be told of his fate the following morning. At least 18 hours had to elapse before the sentence was carried out, with every consideration afforded the prisoner for religious consolation and an interview with his legal adviser. However, there was to be no leakage to the press before the official communique was issued. The Tower was the approved place of execution given the constraints of time and secrecy, and on the evening of 5th November, a police van brought Lody to the site.

Hans Lody sitting in the dock guarded by two armed soldiers

Lody in the Middlesex Guildhall during his court martial

He wrote two letters on the eve of his death – one to the commanding officer of the 3rd Battalion Grenadier Guards at Wellington Barracks thanking him and his staff for their kind and considered treatment “even towards the enemy” and signing himself Senior Lieutenant, Imperial German Res. II; the second was to relations in Stuttgart stating “I shall die as an Officer, not as a spy”.

Ten further spies were executed at the Tower, the last Ludvico Hurwitz-y-Zender on 11th April 1916. The majority including Lody died in the Rifle Range in the outer ward of the Tower between the Constable and Martin Towers – an area closed to the public. As Charles ffoulkes, Keeper of the Armouries, wrote in Arms and the Tower (1939) “it is worthy of note that although London was filled with hysterical rumours of spies, secret signalling and expected sabotage, the authorities kept their heads as far as the Tower was concerned. All through the War the Tower was open to the public at 6d. a head, or on certain days free, in spite of the fact that spies were imprisoned and shot within the precincts.”