Accessibility and Archives: Combining Archaeology and the Archival Record

In this, the seventh guest blog in the sequence of blogposts around disability and inclusion from the Accessibility working group of ARA’s Diversity and Inclusion Allies, Laura Yeoman (Access and Digital Engagement Archivist, Borthwick Institute for Archives, University of York @LauraY_archives ) reflects on the extent to which the disability of the people in our archives is readable in our records.

In Summer 2022, I was approached by Rare TV, the production company behind BBC 2’s archaeology series Digging for Britain, to help them uncover the story of a remarkable woman they believed would be found in our archives. This woman died with osteoporosis and septic arthritis in her joints. She also had advanced syphilis, which had caused holes in her arm and leg bones due to infection and lesions, and could potentially have caused her some neurological issues as well. By the time of her death, at least some of her health issues would have been visibly apparent, and she would have been struggling physically with her impairments. She was – we think – Dame Isabelle German, a 15th century anchoress from All Saint’s Church, Fishergate, just outside York’s city walls, and whilst she does indeed appear in our archives, none of what I’ve just said can be found in written documents…

It was the tireless work of Dr Lauren McIntyre, osteoarchaeologist at Oxford Archaeology, that had prompted Rare TV to investigate the story of Isabelle German in the first place. During excavations of the site of All Saint’s Church, Fishergate, in 2007 and 2008 by University of Sheffield and Oxford Archaeology, the skeleton of a female – known to the excavation team as SK3870 - was found under what would have been the floor of the apse, buried in a shallow grave. Unlike Christian burials of the time, this skeleton was in a crouched position rather than laid out. This was highly unusual for a couple of reasons. Firstly, generally only people with wealth or who were special to the site were buried within church buildings in the medieval period, and never in a crouched position. Secondly, roles for women in medieval churches, if she did indeed work for the church, were limited. Generally speaking, you could become a nun, or you could become an anchoress.

An anchoress was a very devout woman who chose to be walled into part of a church building, known as a cell, where she would be provided with food and water, and sometimes the support of a servant or attendant. Before entering the cell, she would give up all her worldly possessions, and would often be subject to a ‘walling up’ ceremony conducted by a bishop. She would have a view of the high altar within the church from her cell, usually through a small window, so that she could take part in services, and had access to a Bible. In the case of Isabelle German, I was able to confirm from our probate records that she received bequests from six wills dating between 1428 and 1455. We also have a Probate Act entry for her own death in 1448 (the last will we find her in was proved after her death), so we can confirm she was an anchoress at All Saint’s, Fishergate for at least 20 years. In almost every will, the only reference to her is a short note leaving her a cash payment (which would actually go to the church rather than her personally), apart from in one case, where her ‘servant’ (or attendant) is receiving a pot. Even the notice of her own death on 13 August 1448, found in Probate Register 2 folio 176r in our archives, merely notes that she has died, and appoints an executor to carry out the terms of the will. Unusually, a copy of the will itself isn’t included in the register (we don’t know why), so at no point in her lifetime do we actually hear Isabelle German in her own words.   

The process of piecing together this story from our records got me thinking. Assuming that the skeleton SK3870 is indeed Isabelle German – it’s very highly likely, but we have no way of conclusively proving that it is her – it’s an exceptionally rare case of me as an archivist being able to ‘see’ the remains of someone from the archival record and find out more about them through those physical remains. I’ve not met Dr McIntyre as part of this process and didn’t work with her directly on the programme. I’ve also not been able to view the skeleton myself. Without the excavated skeleton, though, and Dr McIntyre’s detailed analysis on the bones, we would have absolutely no way of knowing from the surviving archives that Isabelle German had infirmities and disabilities. How often could this be the case in our archival records?

We can also look at this in reverse. How often do we see cases of archaeologists excavating skeletons with clear disabilities (either being disabled from birth or through the healing over of wounds incurred during their lifetime), but due to lack of evidence in the ground such as gravestones we can’t even begin to return their identities to them, and therefore locate them in surviving archives. I feel incredibly lucky that this was an exceptional case where the archaeological record and the archival evidence could come together to shed light on someone with what would have been clear impairments during her lifetime. There have always been disabled people in history, but sometimes we just can’t see them in the archival record as the key facts weren’t noted. We’re reliant on what was written down (or, in later years, photographed), and in the case of many records we hold as archivists, impairments or disabilities were irrelevant. Perhaps in years to come we might have more opportunities for archaeologists and archivists to work together to shed light on individuals. 

Probate Act entry for the death of Isabelle German, 1448 (copyright Borthwick Institute for Archives, University of York

Extract from one of the other wills, of Adam Wigan, showing payments to various 'anchorites' (the term was used for men and women in the medieval period, but we use the gender-specific term 'anchoress' now) including the anchorite at Fishergate (copyright Borthwick Institute for Archives, University of York)

The archaeological record can’t tell us everything, though, particularly when disabilities won’t show up in skeletal remains. I recently taught some undergraduate students using another will from our records – this one from the 19th century and relating to a resident of Haworth. The town is arguably best well-known for its famous residents, the Brontës, but the person I was interested in was one of their contemporaries, Starkie Jennings. From the surviving evidence in his will, which was proved in 1833, we know that Jennings had had a ‘stroke of paralysis’ before his death which had resulted in him losing much of his power of speech. We also know that he could ‘read and give answers to any question by affirmation or negative’ but couldn’t speak in full sentences. It’s unclear how long he had suffered with this prior to his death, but the effects of his stroke caused some complications, especially as he was also known to be illiterate – he could read, but he couldn’t write. To make a will, someone had to be ‘of sound mind’, but what if they were, but simply couldn’t articulate the terms of their will verbally or in writing? What then? Starkie Jennings’ friends came up with an ingenious plan….     

In this case, three friends of Jennings – Robert Murgatroyd, Nathan Wright and John Winterbotham – drew pictures of his two daughters on a piece of paper, and named them. They then drew buildings to represent his property and labelled them. Together, they went through Jennings’ possessions with him, pointing to each of the drawings of his daughters, and allowing him to respond ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ This allowed Jennings to identify which of his daughters were to receive which goods. This was written up by a scribe into a will, and submitted with the original copy of the drawing, and an explanation of the process they had used. The fact that his will was ultimately proved in the church courts means that this system created by his friends and families was legal, and allowed him to express his wishes without the full power of speech.

Haworth churchyard today contains the remains of somewhere in the region of 40,000 people. If the archaeologists of the future happen to excavate it, would they find the skeleton of Starkie Jennings amongst its inhabitants, not knowing his full story?

The page from the will of Starkie Jennings with the illustration of his daughters. (copyright Borthwick Institute for Archives, University of York)

For more information about the work of Dr Lauren McIntyre on the skeleton from All Saint’s, Fishergate please see: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00766097.2022.2129682

For more information about the case of Starkie Jennings, please see the blog post written by Barbara Rich on his case: https://abarbararich.medium.com/excepting-one-bed-and-one-bible-3eb6d9c590ad.  

Contributions to this series are welcomed, particularly if you are working with records of disabled people.  If you are interested, in the first instance, please email diversityandinclusion@archives.org.uk