IN PROGRESS — NOT FOR PUBLICATION
Born in London (St George's, Middlesex, London) on the 25th of November 1832, the son of Sir George Wombwell, 3rd Baronet (1792-1855), and his wife, Georgiana Orby Hunter (1807-1875). She was the daughter of Sir Thomas Orby Hunter, of Crowland Abbey, Lincolnshire, and Fanny Heywood.
He was the eldest of four sons — his brothers also served in the army:
Adolphus Ulick Wombwell (1834-1886) became a Lieutenant-Colonel in the 12th Lancers.[How did he come by such a name?]
Sir Henry Herbert Wombwell, 5th Baronet (1840-1926): 7th Hussars and Captain Royal Horse Guards.
Captain Frederick Charles Wombwell (1845- ? ): [regiment?].
There is a family memorial tablet on the wall of St. Mary's Church at Battersea, London. From the names and dating, this would have been his grandfather (the 2nd Baronet), and his step-grandmother.
1841 Census
Newburgh Hall, Newburgh, Yorks.
Georgiana Wombwell, aged 30, Ind [Independent means].
George Wombwell, 8.
Adolphus Wombwell, 7.
Henry Wombwell, 8 months.
Thirteen servants are also shown.
Educated at Eton College.
Cornet in the 17th Lancers: 21st of September 1852.
Lieutenant, 17th Lancers: 31st of December 1854.
[PB: LC says his batman was 832, Private Joseph Slack, 17th Lancers.]
Retired, by the sale of his commission, on the 11th of May 1855.
Succeeding his father as 4th Baronet on the 14th of January 1855 he was allowed to return to England "on urgent private affairs" on the 23rd of February.
Cornet in the Yorkshire Hussars: 14th of June 1858.
Lieutenant, Yorkshire Hussars: 1st of June 1861.
1861 Census
Newburgh Hall, Newburgh, Yorks.
Sir George Orby Wombwell, unmarried, 28, Gentleman, Baronet, born Hanworth, Middlesex.
Eleven servants are also shown.
On the 3rd of September 1861 he married Lady Julia Sarah Alice Villiers, daughter of George August Frederic, 6th Earl of Jersey, Deputy Lieutenant for the County of York. (He himself became a J.P., Deputy Lieutenant, and High Sheriff for the North Riding of Yorkshire, in 1881.)
Marriage registered
George Orby Wombwell married Julia Sarah Villiers, September Quarter 1861, St George's Hanover Square.
Births registered
Julia Georgina Sarah Wombwell, December Quarter 1862, Chelsea.
Mabel Caroline Wombwell, September Quarter 1863, St George's Hanover Square.
Cecilia Clementina Wombwell, December Quarter 1864, Easingwold.
George Wombwell, December Quarter 1865, Easingwold.
Stephen Frederick Wombwell, March Quarter 1867, Easingwold.
Resigned his commission on the 20th of June 1870.
Cornet Wombwell served the Eastern campaign of 1854-55, including the battles of the Alma, Balaclava (two horses shot under him), Inkerman and the Siege of Sebastopol. (Medal and Clasps.)
He was Orderly officer to Lord Cardigan at Balaclava. He had his own charger shot under him and a stray horse he caught was also shot, but he was rescued by the 11th Hussars.
On the second occasion he was taken prisoner by the Russians, but on being abandoned by them to the Cossacks, he found himself near William Morris, who had also been taken prisoner. The latter said to him, "Look out and catch a horse." At that moment several loose horses came by and, dodging between the lances of his captors, he mounted one and succeeded in getting away.
[PB: The following is GW's account of the Charge made in 1906, reading "the entries he made in his diary after Balaclava, making them public for the first time." He says they were written directly after the event. Of course it is impossible to know how much he edited them for his presentation.]
LIGHT BRIGADE'S CHARGE.
SURVIVING OFFICER'S DIARY
A GRAPHIC STORY.
Sir George Wombwell, of Newburgh Priory, York, one of four surviving officers who took part in the charge of the Light Brigade 52 years ago, presided at the re-opening of the Barnardo Memorial Fund Bazaar at York. In place of a speech, Sir George read the entries he made in his diary after Balaclava, making them public for the first time. Sir George's statement was as follows:
Wednesday, 25th. This has been a dreadful day lor the Light Brigade. While on parade this morning suddenly the Turkish batteries on the hills to our front opened a tremendous fire. We soon found out the reason — the Russians were advancing in a very large force. Our field batteries and a troop of Horse Artillery came quickly up and opened fire. The shells began to come very near us. and title went right into Captain Maude's horse and exploded, completely blowing Captain Maude into the air. He was badly wounded in the face and arm. He will be great loss, as he was a first-rate soldier, and his troops of artillery, with him in command, was perfect. All this time, the Russians came on in the most plucky manner, and
THEIR SHOT AND SHELLS
came nearer and nearer, bursting right over us. At last we heard musketry, and on looking round expected to see our allies, the Turks, firing away at them, but instead of making any resistance they were flying from the different redoubts in every direction, and left their guns &c. in the hands of the Russians, who were now seen advancing. The Russians were now seen coming down the hill towards us, and they brought a troop of artillery to the top of the hill, from which they opened on us a murderous fire. We kept all the time retreating. Russians remained on the hill. <.p>
An order now came down for us to retire, which we did, out of range of their guns. Shortly afterwards they (evidently thinking we were beaten) sent a tremendous body of cavalry, with a horde of Cossacks, across the plain after us, and bitterly they found out their mistake, for they were
MET BY THE SCOTS GREYS
and Inniskillens, who charged them magnificently and completely routed the whole lot of them. Nothing could more more beautiful than the Greys and Inniskillens looked as they dashed right into the Russian cavalry, who seemed quite astounded, and barely made andy resistance. At last they suddenly wheeled round and galloped off as hard as they could go, pursued by the Greys and the others, who cut a great many down. Both brigades of cavalry then advanced, and an order in writing came down from Lord Raglan telling us to attack some guns, which were firing us. So the Light Brigade in two lines, the 13th Light Dragoons and the 17th Lancers in the first line, and the 4th Light Dragoons and 8th and 11th Hussars in the second line, were ordered to the front, and
OFF WE WENT AT A TROT,
when suddenly a tremendous fire opened upon us, killing poor Nolan, if the 15th Hussars, who brought the order down from Lord Raglan, close to me. We broke into a gallop, every man feeling convinced that the quicker we rode through the awful showers of grapeshot, musketry, and shells, which they poured into our flanks as we passed, the better chance we should have of escaping unhurt.
We charged up to the guns, which kept firing at us till we got up to them, and cut the Russian gunners down as they stood at their guns. The way the showers of grape and canister, musketry, and shells came among us was something too awful to describe: the men were falling in heaps all around me, and every time I looked up I could see our line getting thinner, till by the time we passed the guns and got up to the third line of Russian cavalry we were but a mere handful.
I had been riding all day as orderly officer to Lord Cardigan, who behaved most pluckily and led the way by himself, so, of course, I followed him with his other A.D.C.'s close behind, and just as he got
CLOSE UP TO A GUN
it went off, luckily without touching him, and, not being able to see for the smoke, he rode right up against the gun. My horse was shot under me, in what place I know not, but down he came. I luckily soon caught a trooper which had lost its rider, and got on his back and joined the second line, but in coming he got quite knocked up and refused to move. I at last got him into slow wak, and was congratulating myself on having passed unseen [through] two squadrons of Russian Lancers, when suddenly a horrid yell arose, and I was surrounded by a lot of them, brandishing their swords and lances, and desiring me to throw down my sword, which, seeing resistance was useless, I did. They thou seized my pistols in my holsters, and helped me in a very rough way off my wounded trooper, and marched me off a prisoner on foot between two of them, with three more behind. I, of course, walked quietly with them, but seeing the 11th Hussars
COMING HOME AT A GALLOP,
when they got near, I made a rush forward, and luckily caught another trooper, on which I jumped and joined the 11th, and rode back with them.
When I was taken they took away my sword and pistols from me, which I never got back, and a Russian officer came up and told me in French not to be alarmed, as they would not touch me, and that they were only a little rough. However, thank God, I managed to get away, and got back safe.
The charge itself was considered the pluckiest thing ever done, but at the same time nothing could have been rash. As a famous French general said. "C'est magnifique." The loss among the light cavalry regiments has been enormous — the 13th Light Dragoons have three officers missing, and out of the whole they have only between 30 and 40 available men and horses.
[Source: Belfast Telegraph, 14 November 1906, p.5 (http://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0001631/19061114/097/0005).]
Copy of a letter he wrote to his Land Agent, 2 December 1854:
"Heights before Sebastopol, December 2nd, 1854.
My dear Mr. Scott,
I do not remember whether it was to you or your brother I wrote to last. I rather think it was to your brother, so I am going to send you a small account of our doings out here.
I suppose you will have seen the account of my being taken prisoner by the Russians. I will give you the particulars of it. When the Light Cavalry Brigade made that fearful charge the other day at Balaclava, I was riding as Orderly Officer, in attendance on Lord Cardigan, so of course followed him at the head of the line, after going through a shower of round shot, shell, minie bullets, etc. etc., got up to the guns when unfortunately my horse was shot under me and came down, leaving me dismounted.
My first act was to get another horse and seeing a trooper minus his rider I made for him and caught him and jumped on his back and went down again with the 2nd line consisting of the following regiments: the 8th Hussars, 11th Hussars and 4th Light Dragoons.
I did not go very far with them as my horse was getting quite done, so I thought the best thing was to get back (I was then down by the Russian guns where the gunners had been cut down by our men while standing at them) but when I had gone a little way my horse stopped and not withstanding all my efforts, spurs, etc. etc., to get him moving he positively refused.
I had already passed 2 squadrons of Cossack Lancers close to them without being seen and was congratulating myself when I heard a fearful yell, and was instantly surrounded by about 5 or 7 Lancers — as they came up flourishing their swords. I expected to be cut down, and desiring me to throw down my sword which seeing resistance was useless I did, when I was instantly surrounded, my pistols seized, and I was rather roughly helped off my beaten horse.
A Russian officer came up and asked if I spoke French, I told him yes and requested him at the time not to let the savages by whom I was surrounded knock me about, he was uncommonly civil, told me not to be alarmed, they being only rough in their manners, so away I was marched on foot between two of them and three behind.
I walked quietly until I saw the 11th and 4th Light Dragoons coming back from the Charge, when I set off as hard as I could, luckily caught a loose horse, jumped on his back, and looking round to see what my friends who had charge of me were about and there they were in a great state but did not dare to folow me (as if they had done so they would have run up against our troops) and then rode as hard as I could.
After this I had to get by a squadron of Lancers who came up and attacked us in the rear, without any sword to ward of their thrusts, but thank God I escaped without a wound, only a little bruise on the arm. My regiment on that day lost 2nd officers killed, 1 taken prisoner and 4 badly wounded, one of whom, poor Webb, as good a fellow as ever breathed has since died, nothing but providence could have saved me on that day, and I am very thankful for it.
The weather here is dreadful, nothing but rain, rain, rain, which nearly washed us out of our tents and we have not a dry corner to put a thing in, the ground is over one's ankles in mud, and the poor horses are standing up to their knees in wet mud and dying as fast as they can from cold, wet and starvation.
Where we are now encamped is near 7 miles from Balaclava where the forage is all loaded, but the roads are in such a state that it is impossible to get it up here to our camp, so the consequence is that when it does come in it is in very small quantities and the wretched animals do not get more than two handfuls all day, hay we scarcely ever get, so you can easily imagine our horses are nearly starved.
You will be sorry to hear that the horse that was killed under me at Balaclava was the little bay horse that was born and bred at Newburgh. We still keep blazing away at Sebastopol, and they at us but nothing of importance has happened since the fight at Inkerman, accounts of which you will have seen by this time in the newspapers.
A very plucky little affair came off the other night, the Russians had a position filled with their riflemen, which annoyed us and the French very much, so a party of our rifles were sent to drive them out, which they succeeded in doing and us holding ever since. We lost several men and one officer by name, Tryon of the Rifles, a first rate officer, a good shot, and will be a great loss to the service.
At about a certain time every night, the Russians fire a general salvo from Sebastopol, at the French who take no notice of it. I believe it is done to attract our attention whilst they go out and fetch water, which article is getting very scarce in Sebastopol.
The town itself is a pretty place to look at, and from an old ruin on the hill close to us, with your glasses you can see them walking about the place. The firing has slackened a good deal on both sides lately, but at first you never heard such an incessant row as there was.
You will have seen how fearfully we lost at Inkerman the other day, but I assure that the Russian loss was fearful too. I went over the battlefield and a more horrid sight you cannot imagine, the dead, the dying and wounded were lying so thick that it was almost impossible to walk. I want to see no more fighting, it has pleased God to see me safe through what I have seen, and I am now anxious to get home, if I am to see any more I trust in God to keep me safe.
We have much to be thankful for, when I see the illness and misery all around me I feel truly thankful to Him for keeping me so well and safe. How is Mrs Scott and Mr Scott. Remember me to them most kindly and to all your family.
I want you to write and tell me all the news. How my two horses are, how Mr Adolphus got on during his last visit to Newburgh, etc. etc., His regiment has arrived and I expect to see him any day. Hoping you are well. Believe me, yours sincerely,
George O. Wombwell. 17th Lancers.
P.S. Who looks after my horses?"
Extract from the Naval and Military Gazette for the 9th of December 1854:
Mr. Wombwell of the 17th Lancers had a very narrow escape; he was dragged off his horse by his cap lines, and taken prisoner by the Russians. A Russian officer addressed him and told him not to be afraid, in that he would be well taken care of, though '"ce gens la" (the Cossacks) were rather rough.' However, they were saved the job of guarding him, for in the last charge he made his escape, and got back to our lines safely.
He was met on his return from the charge by H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, who afterwards became his close personal friend, visiting him annually at Newburgh Hall for 22 consecutive years.
[Check that this last sentence is part of the above quote]
[PB: 735, Sergeant John Berryman quotes a conversation between GW and Captain Webb, who had been severely injured during the Charge.]
I said, "We must get Captain Webb out of this, for we shall be pursued." He agreeing, we made a chair of our hands, lifted the Captain up, and found that we could carry him with comparative ease. We had got about 200 yards in this manner, when the Captain complained that his leg was very painful.
A private of the 13th being near, Malone, I asked him would he be good enough to support Captain Webb's legs, until we could procure a stretcher? He did so, and several of the officers passed us.
Sir G. Wombwell said, "What is the matter, Peck?" (Captain Webb's nickname.)
"Hit in the leg, old fellow."
[Webb] "How did you escape?"
[Wombwell] "Well, I was unhorsed and taken prisoner, but when the second line came down, in the confusion I got away, and, seizing the first horse I could, I got away, and I find that it is Morris's."
[Source: The Strand Magazine, March 1891].
[/blockquote]
[PB: 870 William Staden, 11th Hussars, names GW in his ILN account (30 October 1875).]
Entitled to the Crimean medal with clasps for Alma, Balaclava, Inkerman and Sebastopol and the Turkish Medal.
"Horse Guards,
16th May 1855.
Sir, — Referring to my letter of the 10th inst, I have the General Commanding-in-Chief's command to desire that all officers entitled to receive the Crimean medal and now with their Depots to be ordered to attend in London for the purpose of being present on the parade on Friday the 18th of May 1855 at 10 o'clock precisely. Be pleased to acknowledge its receipt.
I am, etc etc.,
G.A. Weatherall. AAG.
[To] Officer Commanding the Cavalry Depots."
He is believed to have been presented with his Crimean medal by Queen Victoria at a ceremony on the Horse Guards Parade on the 18th of May 1855.
His name does not appear on the Nominal Return of those present now in the PRO, but is shown on a similar roll which appeared in the United Services Magazine for June of 1855 and on that which appeared in the Illustrated London News of the 26th of May 1855.
Towards the end of his life, by which time there were very few survivors of the Charge, he was feted throughout the world, as shown in this item from Sydney, Australia (1913):
FIFTEEN BALACLAVA SURVIVORS
Reduced by one by the recent death of Lord Tredegar, the following are now the survivors of the Charge of the Light Brigade:
Sir George Wombwell, 17th Lancers. Major Phillips [8th Hussars] Alderman Kilvert, 8th Hussars [actually, 11th Hussars]
J Mustard, 17th Lancers
T. Boxall, 4th Hussars [formerly 4th Light Dragoons]
J. Whitehead, 4th Hussars [formerly 4th Light Dragoons]
H. Wilsden, 4th Hussars [formerly 4th Light Dragoons]
J. Olley, 4th Hussars [formerly 4th Light Dragoons]
W.S.J. Fulton, 8th Hussars
J. Parkinson, 11th Hussars
T. Warr, 11th Hussars
G. Gibson, 13th Hussars [formerly 13th Light Dragoons]
E. Hughes, 13th Hussars [formerly 13th Light Dragoons]
W. Ellis, 11th Hussars
W.H. Pennington, 8th Hussars [actually, 11th Hussars][Source: Sunday Times (Sydney, NSW), 20 April 1913 http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/126459695 (accessed 15.2.2014) [PB].]
Extract from the Wakefield Express, 24th of September 1859:
"Presentation to Geo. O. Wombwell, Bart. — On Wednesday the 14th inst; the tenants of Sir George Wombwell, Bart., of Newburgh Hall, presented him with his portrait, as a testimony of their personal esteem of him, and to commemorate his services at Balaclava in the Crimean War.
The picture, which is by Mr. Dickinson, of Portland Place, London [presumably Lowes Cato Dickinson (1819-1908)], represents the gallant Baronet in the midst of a battlefield, in the uniform of the regiment to which he belonged (the 17th Lancers) with his helmet resting upon his knee, and his foot on a dismounted cannon. The charger which he rode in the Crimea, called "Turk", which had several narrow escapes, is fully represented as standing beside its master."
[PB: Wombwell wrote in 1854 that "the horse that was killed under me at Balaclava was the little bay horse that was born and bred at Newburgh". According to the inscription on "Turk's grave at Newburgh, he carried Wombwell at Inkerman and Alma. For more on More on George Wombwell's horse, "Turk", see below and here. ]
He spent a lot of time in London in his later years and was often seen riding in Rotten Row. The magazine Vanity Fair once described him as "the best-dressed man in London." He was also the subject of a cartoon published by the same paper and which often depicted notables of the day.
He had a keen eye for horses and Shorthorn cows. He exhibited, and was often called upon for services as a judge in show rings. He took a great interest in his vast estates and was known as a "model landlord".
He was Master of the York and Aistey Hounds for many years and it was whilst following these hounds on February the 8th 1868 that Sir George had a remarkable escape from drowning, which gained for him the reputation of 'having a charmed life'.
The hunting party was crossing the river Ure at Newby Ferry on the private chain-ferry of the Vyner family when the boat had capsized and several members of the Hunt, including the then master, Sir Charles Slingsby, lost their lives. [ More...]
Sir George was hauled out of the swollen stream in an exhausted condition. He had another escape previously, when his horse pitched him into a tree.
1871 Census
Newburgh Hall, Newburgh, Coxwold.
Sir George O Wombwell, 37, Baronet, Magistrate & Landowner, born Coxwold.
Julia Wombwell, 29, Lady, Upton, Warwicks.
Julia Wombwell, 9, Coxwold.
Mabel Wombwell, 8, Coxwold.
Cecilia Wombwell, 7, Coxwold.
George Wombwell, 5, Coxwold.
Stephen F Wombwell, 4, Coxwold.
A visitor, a governess and 23 servants are also shown.
1881 Census
38 Portman Sq, Marylebone.
George Wombwell, aged 48, Baronet, born St George's.
Julia S.A. [Sarah Alice] Wombwell, 38, Earl's daughter, St George's.
Mabel C Wombwell, 17, St George's.
Cecilia C Wombwell, 16, Coxwold.
Julia G.S. Wombwell, 18, St George's.
Thirteen servants are also shown.
Marriages registered
Julia Georgina S Wombwell [daughter] married [Lord] Vesey Cremorne, September Quarter 1882, Easingwold.
Cecilia C Wombwell [daughter] married William Dudgeon G Menzies, September Quarter 1890, St George's Hanover Square.
Mabel Caroline Wombwell [daughter] married Henry Robert Hohler, September Quarter 1897, St George's Hanover Square.
1891 Census
20, Wilton Crescent, St George's Hanover Square, Knightsbridge.
George O Wombwell, 58, Baronet, Landowner, born London.
Julia S.A. Wombwell, 48, London.
Eleven servants are also shown.
Both sons served in the Army and both died whilst so doing:
George, a Lieutenant in the King's Royal Rifle Corps, died from typhoid fever at Meerut, India, in 1889.
After studying at Trinity Hall, Cambridge, Stephen Frederick died from enteric fever at Vryburg, South Africa, in 1901. He had served in the Royal Artillery, Yorkshire Hussars Yeomanry Cavalry, and was a Captain in the Imperial Yeomanry at the time of his death. He was twice mentioned in despatches.
1901 Census
Newburgh Priory, Newburgh, Yorks.
Sir George Wombwell, 68, Landowner, born London.
Lady Julia Wombwell, 58, London.
Thirteen servants are also shown.
1911 Census
Angram Grange, Coxwold, Newburgh.
George O Wombwell, 78, Baronet, born London.
Julia S.A. Wombwell, 68.
(Note: married 49 years, 5 children born, 3 still alive).
Cecilia C Menzies [daughter], 46, and her husband.
Sixteen servants are also shown.
Extract from the Yorkshire Gazette [date? where does quote end?]:
"On the 3rd of September 1911 Sir George and Lady Julia Wombwell celebrated their golden wedding, when friends and tenantry were very hospitably entertained and handsome gifts were made to the grand couple.
Deaths registered
George O Wombwell, 80, December Quarter 1913, Easingwold.
Julia S.A Wombwell [wife], 79, December Quarter 1921, Easingwold.
Mabel C Hohler [daughter], 85, December Quarter 1948, York.
Cecilia M Menzies [daughter], 84, December Quarter 1948, Bromley.
George Wombwell died at Newburgh Priory, Easingwold, Yorkshire, on the 16th of October 1913. Aged 81 years at the time of his death he had been in failing health for some time.
He was the last surviving officer of the 17th Lancers who had ridden in the Charge. His grave is in a secluded part of St. Michael's churchyard. His wife, Lady Julia, who died on the 24th of October 1921, was later buried in the same grave, which is surrounded by a box [actually yew, see below] hedge.
He was buried in Coxwold parish churchyard on the 22nd of October, the Revd. E. Hedger conducting the service. A letter of condolence was sent to his widow from the King and Queen and a large wreath sent by ex-Crimean veterans of the Light Brigade and 17th Lancers lay on the coffin.
In his will he directed that:
"My remains shall be buried at Coxwold without a leaden coffin and that no hearse or coaches shall be used at my funeral, my body being borne by the tenants or labourers from my estate and that the cost of my funeral and memorial shall not exceed £200."
He also left the "saddle, bridle, pistols and holsters now in a glass case in the gallery at Newburgh Priory," formerly belonging to John, Lord Belayse of Worlaby [PB: I have also seen references to "Belayase" and "Belasyse"], and by tradition used by Oliver Cromwell, as heirlooms.
Extract from the Yorkshire Gazette, Saturday 25th of October 1913:
"Memorable Scenes at Coxwold. Funeral of Sir G. Wombwell. Diverse attendance. Pathetic Tokens"
"A TOUCHINGLY SAD AND SOLEMN scene was on Wednesday witnessed in the churchyard of historic Coxwold, when the remains of the late G.O. Wombwell, Yorkshire's "grand old warrior", were interred in the pretty old village churchyard.
Since his death his remains had lain in state at Newburgh Priory, the home Sir George had loved so well; and thither had gone sheaves of letters and telegrams of condolence, from the King and Queen downwards.
The whole countryside mourned his loss, and the old parish church of St. Michael could not accommodate but a tithe of the crowd who met to pay a last tribute of respect to one who was alike a genial neighbour, a considerate landlord, and a kind friend.
The aspect of the day was in keeping with the fullness of his years. Bright sunshine gave an added glory to the autumnal tints; only the haze that surrounded the adjacent uplands imparted a touch of sadness.
Every blind was drawn in the little village street, and from the hamlets around people came in their Sunday black, thronging the churchyard approaches and standing respectfully at the graveside to witness the solemn sight.
Simple and Unostentatious
Throughout, the proceedings were quite simple, and devoid of any kind of display. Leaving Newburgh Priory shortly before three o'clock the remains were conveyed in a wagon drawn by four farm horses in single file. Two lorries laden with floral tributes followed immediately behind, and after them came Lady Julia's carriage, and the rest of the principal mourners, on foot.
At the railway station the procession was joined by a large number of representative men who had travelled by special train from York, and then, slowly up the hill, the cortege proceeded between the rows of assembled country-folk until the Lych-gate was reached. Here, bearing only two of the wreaths with which it had previously been covered, the coffin was lifted on to the shoulders of estate workmen and carried up the steps and along the path into the church.
One of these two tokens was a wreath of lovely white flowers, placed there by the baronet's widowed lady, the other was a laurel tribute from his comrades, the survivors of the Balaclava Light Brigade Charge.
The coffin, which was of plain dark oak, with silver mountings, the whole encircled by a Union Jack, bore this inscription: "George Orby Wombwell. 4th Baronet. Born November 25th 1832 — Died October 16th 1913. "Peace at Eventide."
The Vicar of Coxwold (the Revd. Ernest Hedger), who conducted the service, met the procession at the Lych-gate, attended by the majority of the local clergy, and then preceded the remains into the church to the strains of the hymn, "Now the labourer's task is o'er." A choir of mixed voices, stationed in the west gallery led the singing, the other hymns being "Peace, perfect peace," sung after the lesson, and "A few more years shall roll," sung at the grave-side.
During the time of waiting beforehand the organist played "O Rest in the Lord," and Chopin's "Funeral March," and then, after the Nunc Dimittis, as the cortege passed out again through the crowd, the solemn strains of the Dead March from "Saul".
A Memorable Scene
The scene, both in the sacred precincts and in the village street beyond was one to be remembered. The hundreds of people silently looking on, the array of motor-cars waiting outside, the flag at half-mast on the octagonal tower, the cypress bordered enclosure where scores of bright-hued flowered emblems spoke of personal affection before the open grave lined with moss and white flowers, the slow final procession down the church path — all made a sight that was most moving.
The gathering, as the appended list shows, was very representative. Some old friends were unavoidably absent, but the life interests of the departed baronet were well reflected in the diverse company, rich and poor, that came together.
The Army, the Agricultural Societies, the Conservative Association, the Primrose League, the Yorkshire Assurance Company, of which he was a director, the tenant farmers and villagers, the estate workers, the servants of the household, all swelled the tribute paid by close personal friends.
One of the most pathetic tokens was a small bunch of white heather, tied with white ribbon, and bearing a simple inscription, 'From an old friend'. This was the Marquess of Abergavenny and was placed on the coffin."
[A ten-inch-long column of mourners and wreath-senders follows.]
His grave in Coxwold churchyard is not, as first thought, surrounded by a box hedge, but by one of yew, and is now (1983) some 5 feet high and 3 feet thick. Entry to the grave plot is through a pair of iron gates, the whole area being about six yards square.
There are two graves in this, the one containing George Wombwell and his wife and the other a daughter and another member of his family. The stones appear to be made of black granite or marble, and measure some 8 feet by four feet. No attention seems to have paid to the area for some considerable time.
The grave stone for Sir George and his wife is more elaborate than the other and has a raised cross in the centre.
On the right hand side is a sword and on the left, a crest with a wreath, shield and ribbon, under this being the inscription: 'Served in the 17th Lancers in the Crimea, 1854-55. At the Alma, Inkerman and Sebastopol and rode through the Charge at Balaclava.'
Below are some of the words of the poem by Tennyson: 'When can their glory fade, 'O' the wild charge they made. Honour the Light Brigade. Noble Six Hundred.'
On the angled sides of the slab is (left-side): 'Sir George Orby Wombwell, 4th Baronet. Born 25th November 1832. and (at the base) 'Died 16th October 1913'.
On the right hand side is his wife's name and her date of birth, and at the top, her date of death. The lettering is of the type which is let into the surface. Many having now fallen out, it is becoming very difficult to decipher.
The information above was kindly provided by Mr R.G. Pearson, of Wakefield.
In the parish church at Coxwold there are numerous family memorials and stained glass windows, including a wall memorial tablet of dark grey slate, with the heads carved in white marble, of his two sons, George, a Lieutenant in the K.R.R.s and Stephen Frederick, a Captain in the 3rd Bn. Imperial Yeomanry.
The lychgate entrance to the church-yard is also a memorial to the latter, and has on the outside wall the words "Erected to the memory of Captain Stephen Wombwell by his father and mother." and on the churchyard side, "For his Queen and Country, A.D. 1901."
Extract from "Glorious Newburgh", which appeared in The Dalesman for July of 1982:
More on George Wombwell's horse, "Turk"..."There are few country houses in England with a more fascinating story to tell than Newburgh Priory, Coxwold, in North Yorkshire. It is one of a pageant of history which began more than eight centuries ago, encompassing both men and women — William the Conquerer, a twelfth-century Prior, who gave us one of our first histories, Henry the Eighth, Oliver Cromwell, William of Orange, a Queen of England, a lady who almost became Queen of England, and an officer who survived the Charge of the Light Brigade.
A walk towards the lake to the north of the building, a relic of the priory, which has been turned into a paved and pleasant pleasance, almost a secret garden, with borders of lily of the valley, iris, and drifts of green and soft yellow "Alchemilla mollis".
On the brick wall there is a memorial to a horse, which reads, "In memory of Turk. He went the East in the Spring of 1854 and carried Sir George O. Wombwell, Bt. at the battles of Alma and Inkerman. Died at Newburgh, aged 26 years."
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Extract from "James Heriot's Yorkshire":
"[Newburgh] priory was at one time the home of Cromwell's third daughter, who had married the grandson of Lord Fauconberg. The Protector was said to have laid down as a condition for the marriage that all the oak trees on the estate should be decapitated and lose their heads in lieu of his Lordship. (This Lord Fauconberg was an ardent Royalist and had fought for Charles the First at Marston Moor, but his grandson was a Parliamentarian).
Cromwell's corpse was supposed to have been secretly buried in a vault over the front door by his daughter, the Lady Fauconberg, when Cromwell's body was dragged from Westminster Abbey by his old enemies to be hanged and beheaded at Tyburn. It lay for more than two days at the Red Lion Inn, Holborn, and it is believed by many that an exchange was made and a less distinguished corpse suffered the indignities and the real body taken to Newburgh and interred within its walls.
King Edward VII (when Prince of Wales) was greatly intrigued by this family tradition and during several visits to the house he unsuccessfully tried first of all to persuade the estate mason and later the then owner, Sir George Wombwell, to break in and examine the remains. The mystery has never been solved, because none of the Wombwell family, who have held the estates since 1815, have undertaken to open the supposed tomb and there is no sign they ever will. But there is no doubt in the minds of local people, Cromwell does indeed lie there.
In 1996, a professor at Sidney Sussex College at Oxford published an essay entitled "The posthumous history of Oliver Cromwell's head" and raised the question of reuniting the head with the rest of his body thought to be at Newburgh Priory.
In 1661, three years after Cromwell's death from a fever, and following the restoration of the monarchy, his body was exhumed and the head severed, only to be set up on a pole at the south end of Westminster Hall, where it remained for more than 20 years. There are gaps in its history until 1775, when it was offered to the Master of Sydney College, Cromwell once having been resident there, but he turned it down.
Some years later, after it had been exhibited in Bond Street, and failed to pull in the expected crowds, it ended up in the possession of Josiah Henry Wilkinson, whose descendant gave it to Sidney Sussex College in 1960. In the same year the embalmed head was re-interred in the College chapel, after advice from scientists to put it in a zinc biscuit tin with some sort of preservative crystals, the burial not being widely announced. Compared with various death masks, the skull measurements were found to have a close correlation.
Former students of the College intend contacting the Wombwell family in an attempt to have the vault opened and the remains transferred to Oxford, but judging from previous efforts to persuade the family owners of the Priory to do so, little hope is held of their succeeding.
[PB, August 2016: Tim Bender has written an account of the life of George Wombwell's brother Colonel Adolphus Ulick Wombwell, 12th (Prince of Wales) Royal Lancers, which mentions GW and contains a substantial amount of relevant material.]
Sir George Wombwell's
Sherwood Lodge is one of the finest riverside residences near London. Sir George Wombwell (b. 1769), a wealthy city merchant has been the occupier from 1825. His principal London residence is in Belgravia and he has estates in Suffolk and Yorkshire.
The property is almost a century old now (1829) and had been much enlarged over the years. In 1780 the grounds covered about 3½ acres, increasing to five acres when the house was sold in 1791 to Henry Nantes, a City merchant from Bremen. His enlargements included a 40ft conservatory and the embanking of a strip of foreshore. Nantes was bankrupted in 1797. The new owner was timber merchant and Danish consul Jens Wolff, who completed the demolition of the terrace of Seven Houses built by John Baptist Bushman, probably in the 1740s or 1750s. Wolff commissioned a 75ft by 25ft sculpture gallery in the Doric style for casts of classical statues acquired in Italy. The gallery was an early work of architect Sidney Smirke. Wolff was bankrupted in 1812, and succeeded by the royal physician Sir William Knighton, from whom Mrs Maria Fitzherbert, George IV's mistress, acquired the property in 1820.
George Wombwell is reported to have paid £12,000, and has made several unsuccessful attempts to sell it after only two years. The grounds are well-wooded, and we have only a partial glimpse of the house.
© 2015 Panorama of the Thames Ltd.
[Source: Panorama of the Thames. Select "Battersea 1829", then "Sir George Wombwell's"
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