A Hymn of Dissent: Inscriptions from the Dungeons of Richmond Castle

By Stephen Basdeo

A popular tourist attraction in North Yorkshire, England, is Richmond Castle. Although it is a picturesque ruin today, it began to be built in the eleventh century after William of Normandy’s “Harrying of the North” (1069–70), during which the English inhabitants of the north of England rose up against their Norman overlords. The keep was built at the end of the twelfth century, and many of the additions made to the original structure during the reign of Henry II, who ordered the construction of the barbican.

Richmond Castle and Town 1820 by Joseph Mallord William Turner 1775-1851
Richmond Castle in the Romantic Period

The castle fell into disuse during the fifteenth century, and was partially ruined by the time of Henry VIII. During the Romantic period, however, its partially decayed state provided inspiration for several artists and writers. The keep was still in use during the Victorian period, however, when it served as the headquarters of the local militia, during which a time a barracks was constructed, although this has since been demolished.

The castle served various military and civil functions, including serving as the home of Robert Baden-Powell, during the late Victorian period and up to the First World War (1914–18). When the war broke out, many young lads enthusiastically enlisted to serve in the army, having been promised that it would be a short and jolly war which would be “over by Christmas”, and of a similar to many of the small-scale colonial campaigns fought by the British during the nineteenth century.

Inside the dungeon

What was not anticipated by anybody at the time was that the war would drag on for four years. While the public supported the war, volunteers alone could not meet the army’s need for more men. So in 1916, the British government passed the Military Service Act which introduced army conscription for all able-bodied men between 18 and 40 years of age.

Some men known as conscientious objectors, however, refused to fight for a variety of reasons. Socialists were one such group; as an internationalist movement, some, although not all, members of socialist political parties held that it was against the principles of internationalism to take up arms against fellow workers; members of the International Bible Students Association (now known as Jehovah’s Witnesses), believed that, as Jesus had said his kingdom was “no part of the world,” then they should not get involved in earthly conflicts. There were also members of other religious groups such as the Methodists who refused to take up arms as well.

Graffiti left by a member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, evident by the “Cross and Crown” logo. (c) English Heritage

The dungeons of Richmond Castle were refitted to house sixteen men, who were all members of the groups mentioned above, who refused to fight. All of them had been sentenced to death by firing squad and awaited their executions in the dungeon, having been deemed to be “absolutist” in their pacifist convictions (the fact that they were sentenced to death likely meant that they even refused non-combat roles). They had little support from the local population and were mockingly nicknamed the “Richmond Sixteen” in imitation of the names of many local regiments.

While they were held at Richmond, many of them made inscriptions on the wall. Some left drawings; others wrote out political slogans, and some of them wrote hymns. The following hymn can be seen in one of the cells:

To the Tune of: “Hold the Fort”

Thro’ the darkness, storm, and sorrow,

One bright gleam I see,

Will I know that on the morrow,

Christ will come for me,

Midst the light and peace and glory,

Of my father’s home,

Christ for me is watching, waiting,

Waiting till I come.

Who is this who comes to meet me,

On the desert way,

As the Morning Star foretelling,

God’s unclouded day?

He it is who came [illegible] me,

On that cross of shame,

In his glory well I knew Him,

Evermore the same.

Oh the blessed joy of meeting,

All the desert passed,

Oh the wondrous words of greeting,

He shall speak at last.

He and I together entering,

Those bright courts above,

He and I together sharing,

All the father’s love.

The text is taken from nineteenth-century hymn, although the tune itself dates from the eighteenth century. Whoever copied it out on the walls remains anonymous. Even more frustratingly, dating the transcription is difficult because Richmond Castle also housed conscientious objectors during the Second World War (1939–45). However, given the fact that COs in World War Two were usually relocated into non-combative roles instead of court martialled and sentenced to death, we might safely speculate that this poem was indeed been copied out by one of the Richmond Sixteen. This is because the hymn is about a man facing “darkness, storm and sorrow” and longs to meet God.

Photo of the text as it appears on the wall. Courtesy of English Heritage / Richmond Castle

It is unlikely to have been copied out by one of the Bible Students/Jehovah’s Witnesses. During the early twentieth century, the hymn book used by the Bible Student movement was Poems and Hymns of Millennial Dawn (first published in 1890, then reprinted only with the hymns as Hymns of Millennial Dawn in 1902 and again in 1905), and none of these early Jehovah’s Witness hymn books contained the above hymn. Thus, we can perhaps at least narrow the identity of the transcriber down to members of the Methodists or the Church of Christ who were also imprisoned.

It is somewhat ironic, of course, that a CO should opt to transcribe this particular hymn on the walls of their cell. The words of the hymn were originally written to rouse Confederate troops during the American Civil War (1861-65). An anecdote connected with the hymn reads as follows:

This hymn was inspired by an incident at the Battle of Allatoona in the American Civil War. A Union garrison under Brig. Gen. John M. Corse was under heavy attack from a Confederate division led by Maj. Gen. Samuel G. French. The garrison was very close to defeat, when they received a flag-signal from Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman saying “Sherman is moving in force. Hold out,” and then, “General Sherman says hold fast. We are coming.” The Union garrison, encouraged by Sherman’s message, were able to hold out until reinforcements arrived.

The Richmond Sixteen were, in the end, not executed but made to serve a term of hard labour in France but apart from the graffiti they etched onto the prison walls, very little information on any of them remains.

At present, the cells are not open to the public due to reasons of safety (and the fact that it gets very hard to breathe after about 30 minutes!), so it was a privilege for me to gain access to them. Ultimately, more research needs to be conducted on the prisoners’ graffiti; on 9 June 2018, Dr Lucia Morawska (Richmond University, Leeds RIASA) is holding an event as part of English Heritage’s The Cell Block Project, where the researchers will record the memories of people whose parents or grandparents were involved with the Richmond Sixteen or some of the later COs from World War Two.

For more information on the event see the website.


Reading Robin Hood in World War Two (1939–45): Data from Mass Observation

Before the twentieth century, Robin Hood was a literary figure: he is the main protagonist in a number of important literary works such as A Gest of Robyn Hode (c. 1450); Anthony Munday’s The Downfall of Robert, Earle of Huntington and The Death of Robert, Earle of Huntingdon (1597–98); Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe (1819); and Thomas Love Peacock’s Maid Marian (1822). Many fine scholarly studies have been conducted which have studied the production and dissemination of these texts.[i] In the twentieth century, the principal means through which the outlaw’s story was disseminated became films and, as domestic television ownership increased, serialised shows. Added to this we can, in the late-twentieth and twenty-first centuries, add videogames.[ii] Thus, in the twentieth century, Robin Hood became a visual rather than a literary hero.

While the late-Victorian period witnessed a number of new Robin Hood children’s books being written and published, there were noticeably fewer in the twentieth century, perhaps as a result of the emergence of film technology. Robin Hood scholarship that focuses on twentieth-century sources likewise tends to privilege cinematic portrayals of the outlaw rather than the literature which appeared. Yet people were still reading Robin Hood, as we know from Mass Observation records.

Britain by Mass Observation
First edition of Madge’s Mass Observation Book.

Mass Observation was a project started by the philanthropists and filmmakers, including Humphrey Jennings, Tom Harrisson, and Charles Madge, in 1937. Their aim was a simple one: to create a record of everyday life in Britain by having volunteers write about what they had done on a given day and submit it to the archive.[iii] The first major project was to chronicle people’s thoughts about the abdication of Edward VIII and the coronation of George VI in 1938. Mass Observation continued throughout the Second World War (1939–45) and was occasionally used by the wartime government as a means of collection information on public morale.

Sarah Hawks Sterling’s Robin Hood and His Merry Men (1928) was one of the most popular books requested by children at Fulham Library.[iv] This was surprising for me as a researcher because I assumed that, when Robin Hood books were read by children in the twentieth century, it was generally the American Howard Pyle’s The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (1883). Indeed, when Penguin Books decided to publish a Robin Hood story as part of their Classics range, it was Pyle’s story that they chose for the collection, rather than any English author.

In Mass Observation records, we also see the continuing popularity of Scott’s Ivanhoe amongst children in London, in particular the Penguin Books 6d. edition.[v] The same record also records that nineteenth-century school editions of Ivanhoe remain in circulation and are popular among youths.

We see another unnamed child opting for Sterling’s book in 1942. In Marylebone, a Mass Observation worker saw a child carrying four books on their way home: Sterling’s Robin Hood, and some anonymous works The War of the Wireless, Shadow of the Swastika, and The First Quarter. More importantly, the child also gives the reasons why they have chosen these books: because they liked adventure books; because the books had been recommended by a friend; and they were similar to other books that they had read. They even told the interviewer that it generally takes them half a week to read through a full book.[vi]

Mass Observation did not focus merely upon children, however, for the investigators also interviewed adults. What is interesting are the Variety shows which were held on evenings. On 14 November 1942, a show was held in Bournemouth to raise money for civilians in USSR (the Soviet Union was part of the Allied Forces at this point). The theme of the show was “Merrie England”, Three Robin Hood songs were sung at this event. None of them were of the traditional ballad type, however, and the finale was a song that I have not yet identified, entitled The Wedding of Robin Hood.[vii] There is a Scottish ballad entitled The Wedding of Robin Hood and Little John, as recorded in J. M. Gutch’s ballad anthology A Lytell Geste of Robin Hode (1847),[viii] but it is a minor ballad and certainly not worthy a spectacular finale, so it may have been a completely new song composed for the event.

What is conspicuous by its absence is any mention of The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), starring Errol Flynn. Such a big set-piece movie, released at the time Mass Observation was initiated, I assumed would have featured in some of the records, but there are none that I have found thus far. Perhaps this should prompt future Robin Hood scholars to reassess the reach and reception of Flynn’s ground-breaking movie, and perhaps it indicates that the ‘prose’ Robin Hood persisted in popularity much longer than previously thought.

[i] J. C. Holt, Robin Hood (London: Thames and Hudson, 1982); Stephen Knight, Reading Robin Hood: Content, Form and Reception in the Outlaw Myth (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2015); Stephen Knight, Robin Hood: A Mythic Biography (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2003); Stephen Knight, Robin Hood: A Complete Study of the English Outlaw (Oxford: Blackwell, 1994); R. B. Dobson and J. Taylor, Rymes of Robyn Hood: An Introduction to the English Outlaw, 3rd edn (Stroud: Sutton, 1997); Thomas Ohglren, Robin Hood: The Early Poems, 1465-1560 : Texts, Contexts, and Ideology (Newark, Del: University of Delaware Press, 2007).

[ii] See Knight, Robin Hood: A Mythic Biography, pp. 150-210. On videogames see Thomas Rowland, ‘“And Now Begins Our Game”: Revitalizing the Ludic Robin Hood’, in Robin Hood in Outlawed Spaces: Media, Performance, and Other New Directions, ed. by Lesley Coote and Valerie Blythe Johnson (Abingdon: Routledge, 2017), pp. 175-188.

[iii] See David Hall, Worktown: The Astonishing Story of the Project that Launched Mass Observation (London: W & N, 2015).

[iv] Mass Observation, Topic Collection-59_1413, p. 2.

[v] Mass Observation, File Report-1332_127, p. 116.

[vi] Mass Observation, Marylebone, Library QQM15C, R.C.C. 8. 4. 42, Topic Collection-20_2595.

[vii] Mass Observation, Bourneville Works Musical Society, Topic Collection-16_3753.

[viii] Anon., ‘The Wedding of Robin Hood and Little John’, in A Lytell Geste of Robin Hode, ed. by J. M. Gutch, 2 vols (London: Longman, 1847), 2: 389-91.

Salvatore Giuliano (1922-1950): The Last Outlaw

By Stephen Basdeo

Since the unification of Italy in 1861, the island of Sicily, as well as the southern half of the mainland, has always had an ambivalent relationship with the Italian state. Fiercely independent, they have often resented central government interference in their affairs. Moreover, the island of Sicily has always had a reputation for criminality. It is, after all, the island in which mafia gangs first emerged. This is what happened after the German and Allied invasions of Italy in 1943: the German puppet state called the Italian Social Republic controlled the northern half of the country, while the southern half continued as the legitimate Kingdom of Italy. But with all of the turmoil, government infrastructure and law and order began to break down. It is at this point in time that Salvatore Giuliano (1922-1950), the ‘last people’s bandit’, flourished in Sicily.

giuliano 3
Giuliano on the lookout

Giuliano was born in Montelepre, Sicily to a peasant family on 16 November 1922. He received a rudimentary education by attending the local school, but he was forced to leave the school in 1935 to help his father on the farm when his older brother joined the army. He soon grew tired of farm life, however, and decided to set up his own business in trading olive oil. When World War Two broke out, he supplemented his income by working as a labourer building roads, although he left this job after a dispute with his employer.

During the war, Giuliano often traded on the black market. Indeed, the existence of the black market was vital for many of the peasants so that they could obtain cheap food, and up to seventy per cent of food was supplied to Sicily through the black market. After the Allied Invasion of Sicily, however, the authorities were determined to stamp this out using both of Italy’s police forces, the Carabinieri and the Polizia. On 2 September 1943, Giuliano was stopped at a Carabinieri vehicle check point. His baggage was searched and he was found with two sacks of grain. Giuliano offered to just give up the grain to the authorities in return for his release, but the officer was having none of it. Giuliano therefore drew his pistol and shot the officer dead. Afterwards, he took the mountains and hid out there for a while.

Mario Puzo’s “The Sicilian” (1984) based upon the life of Giuliano.

Deprived of both his legitimate and illegitimate incomes, Giuliano became an outlaw, and soon gathered about him twenty men in similar circumstances. He genuinely only ever stole from rich travellers, although this was for practical reasons as well as humanitarian ones. The rich had more money that could be plundered, whereas it was pointless taking from the poor peasants as they had very little. He then redistributed this stolen money to the poor, like a true Robin Hood, which earned him allies among the local populace. The rich were just a convenient cash cow, however, and his main enemies were members of the Carabinieri, and throughout his career he and his men killed over eighty seven of these law enforcement officers.

He became something of an international star, and held numerous interviews with journalists. The noted U.S. journalist Mike Stern published many of his pictures of Giuliano in the American press. In addition, poems and songs were sung about him. For this reason, Eric Hobsbawm says that Giuliano was the last true Robin Hood type of outlaw.

Mike Stern’s Article on Giuliano for the American Press (Courtesy of the Giuliano Project)

After the war, prominent Sicilian politicians began agitating for Sicilian independence: in their eyes the island had always been treated badly, it had a different culture, and it had been neglected under fascism. Union with Italy had not benefitted it either socially or economically. Demands for autonomy were denied by all three of the main political parties in central Italy: the Christian Democrats, the Communists, and the Socialists. Consequently, instead of being a small scale highwayman, eking out a living by plundering, in 1945 he got political and publicly declared his support for the Sicilian Independence Movement. As we noted earlier, Sicilians’ relationship with the central Italian government has always been fraught with tension. His main enemy was still the Carabinieri, and now his attacks upon them were justified because they were the representatives of the central Italian state.

The Carabinieri responded to these attacks by often imprisoning and interrogating members of his family. Indeed, his home town of Montelepre was placed under siege and occupied by the law. But still they could not catch him; neither the family nor the villagers would betray him. The only way to apprehend him was to do what law enforcement officers have always had to do when they need to arrest bandits: they convinced one of Giuliano’s gang, Aspanu Pisciotta, who had been Giuliano’s closes friend, to betray him.

Giuliano scapigliato copia
Giuliano liked to pose for the camera (courtesy of Giuliano Project)

Consequently, on 5 July 1950, Pisciotta shot Giuliano while he was sleeping, although the police lied and told the public that Giuliano died in a gun fight with a fellow gang member. Hardly anyone believed the official account, however. The Carabinieri commanded that the funeral be held in private, so as not to heroise the young outlaw in the public eye any further than he was already.

Pisciotta was never granted immunity by the authorities. And he was killed by poison in his cell on 10 February 1954 by a member of the mafia. The last member of Giuliano’s faithful band of men was released in 1980.

Giuliano, as the last ‘good outlaw’ the world has ever seen, was quickly mythologised in popular culture: the film Salvatore Giuliano was released in 1961; Mario Puzo, the author of the Godfather, has written a novel entitled The Sicilian (1984), which was made into a film a few years later in 1987, starring Christopher Lambert as Giuliano, while the opera Salvatore Giuliano opened at Teatro dell’Opera di Roma in 1985.

Further Reading

Billy Jaynes Chandler, King of the Mountain (Northern Illinois University Press, 1988)

Eric Hobsbawm, Bandits (London, 1969)

Gavin Maxwell, God Protect Me from My Friends (London, 1956)