It seems perhaps rather strange that the one person so well known in the history of Borley should have been all but passed by in the search for the identities of the ghosts of the Rectory, and yet this individual cries out to be set in his due place as an almost certain character in the Borley Rectory saga.
The reader would have to search hard for any hint that Edward Waldegrave from Bures, one of the earliest Waldegrave Lords of the Manor at Borley, could conceivably be one of Borley Rectory's ghosts.
Only in The End of Borley Rectory is there a brief mention of the fate of Sir Edward, and a suggestion that the psychometrist Fred Marion was referring to Sir Edward when, from a piece of touchwood found in the Rectory, he drew the sensation of a tall disillusioned man who became an enemy of the people in the Church. I cannot help but wonder whether the personality that Marion thought he had detected was that of Harry Bull rather than Sir Edward Waldegrave, but for the present it is Sir Edward that must concern us.
When one examines what history has to say about this devout and powerful Catholic baronet, it is hard to believe that he is not one of the strange spectral inhabitants of the now vanished Rectory.
If one believes that ghosts seem to be a visual end product of a sense of injustice or persecution by someone long since dead, then Sir Edward's known history presents the researcher with some very strong ammunition on the side of Edward being the ghost.
Although his exact date of birth does not appear to have been recorded, his age at the time of his death, 44 years, gives at least the year of Edward's arrival on the scene, and that is 1517. In The Ghosts of Borley, he is recorded as having inherited Borley from his father but elsewhere, including the local historical guide to Borley Church, the documentation tells us that he came originally from Bures, where the Waldegrave family seat, Smallbridge Hall, still stands.
However, according to the Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford University Press), Edward did in fact inherit lands from his father at Borley. His father was John Waldegrave. What very probably happened was that young Waldegrave inherited land other than Borley Manor from John Waldegrave and only later, at the time of the Dissolution, did he come to Borley Hall.
Edward Waldegrave was born the second son of John Waldegrave and Lora Rochester and he was also a descendant of Sir Richard Waldegrave of Bures, at one time Speaker of the House of Commons. As one of this line, young Edward would ultimately have inherited Smallbridge rather than the Manor of Borley, and it would seem to be as a result of the Dissolution that Edward Waldegrave came to little, remote Borley.
In 1546, King Henry VIII enacted the final repossession of the Manor of Borley from the Dean and Chapter of Christ Church, Canterbury, not apparently by force but by consent, since the Dean and Chapter could no longer afford the estate's upkeep. Shortly after that, the Manor of Borley was given to Edward Waldegrave.
Sir Edward, as he later became, was Master of the Great Wardrobe to King Philip and Queen Mary and was also at one time Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. He was also one of the representatives for the county of Essex who gathered at the meeting of Parliament on January 20, 1557. Waldegrave also held the position of a senior member of the household of Princess Mary Tudor, herself a Catholic who spent some time imprisoned because of her faith, an experience that ultimately led her to round on the Protestants and earned her the unenviable title of 'Bloody Mary'.
In 1551, Waldegrave was ordered to enforce the prohibition on the celebration of Catholic Mass in Mary's household, and perhaps not surprisingly even in those dangerous times Edward Waldegrave refused.
He was promptly sent to the Tower of London, a close prisoner under the authority of Henry's successor, Edward VI, but the sickly boy King Edward did not long survive his coronation and fortunately, for Waldegrave at any rate, Queen Mary succeeded to the throne. After he had become ill whilst still a prisoner, Waldegrave was granted partial release to what amounted to house arrest at his home at Borley Hall before finally being set at liberty by the new Catholic sovereign.
Not only was Waldegrave now free, but he was by the grace of Queen Mary, soon to be a very wealthy man as well. Among properties given to him was what was to become the main base of the Waldegrave family, at Chewton Mendip in Somerset.
When Waldegrave objected to Mary's marriage to Philip of Spain, he was reportedly bought off with a pension of 500 crowns. All this, however, was to prove to be something of a lull before the storm. Queen Mary died suddenly on November 17, 1558, and though the persecution of the Protestants was to end as a result, the subsequent arrival on the scene of Elizabeth was to signal a time of equal terror for those of the Catholic faith, to which the Waldegraves solidly remained loyal.
With the rise to the throne of Queen Elizabeth I, the enigmatic daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Catholic hopes in the person of her half-sister Mary Queen of Scots received a serious blow with the Scottish monarch's confinement in Fotheringay Castle, where she was eventually to end up on the block in 1587.
More trouble now lay in store for Edward Waldegrave. Staunch Catholic as he was, he refused to accept the Oath of Supremacy, making Elizabeth sole head of the English Church, and also rejected the Act of Uniformity. As Sir Thomas More had already found to his cost during Henry's reign, this was to be a fatal mistake.
Whether Elizabeth had decided as a result of his rejection of the Oath to have Waldegrave's head for treason, or whether she was more concerned to have him convicted of the 'crime' of Popery in carrying on the forbidden Catholic practices, is not clear, but on or about April 20, 1561, having held Mass with his wife, his physician Dr Fryer and others of his household at Borley Hall, he was arrested and again consigned to the Tower of London. This time, however, he was not to emerge alive. A letter preserved in the British Museum's Department of Manuscripts tells of Waldegrave's arrest and imprisonment, the writer of the letter being Sir William Seyntlow and the recipient Sir Nicholas Throckmorton.
According to most recorded versions of events, Edward Waldegrave died in the Tower on September 1, 1561. It is at this stage that the possibility of 'Waldegrave the Ghost' comes into play, not so much because of his imprisonment and death, but because of the way in which his downfall came about, and the persecution that lay behind it. When one learns of his ultimate fate after his death, then it becomes clear as to a cause for his ghost to appear near the site later occupied by Borley Rectory, if not actually in the Rectory itself.
According to the authors of The Ghosts of Borley, Waldegrave was buried beneath the Tower Chapel but other accounts tell us that though this is what happened to begin with, he was subsequently exhumed and brought back to Borley, where his family tomb survives in the church.
Ironic, is it not, that a devout Catholic should end up buried in a Protestant church at a service where the Book of Common Prayer was used? That alone would be anathema to the Waldegraves, the last straw, a persecution and an insult on a grand scale.
A modern view of Borley Hall. On or about April 20, 1561, Sir Edward Waldegrave was arrested here, charged with heresy.
Among many other aspects of the story of Sir Edward, we need to find out exactly how he died, because this bears considerably on which of the strange spectral figures seen near the Rectory could reasonably be identified as his ghost. A learned local resident of Borley who helped with a number of historical details intimated in a letter to me that Sir Edward Waldegrave was eventually executed for heresy.
Is there evidence to prove or disprove this suggestion? Some are of the opinion that he had died after an illness, and indeed this was the view of the archivist of the Public Records Office (PRO), based on the fact that during August, 1561, William Paulet, Marquis of Winchester, requested the wardship of Sir Edward's son, if Waldegrave himself died.
The opinion of the PRO was that this indicated the natural death of Sir Edward, rather than his execution. The Marquis of Winchester's letter was dated August 8, 1561, which is just about four and a half months after Waldegrave's arrest, thus supporting the natural death theory. But it is worthwhile pondering for a moment on some other aspects of the case that could suggest otherwise.
In those days, prison conditions could be very harsh, though it is a fact that several of the more illustrious of the Tower's unwilling occupants were allowed some personal comforts: books, servants, reasonable food and so on. It is also true that the majority of inmates found themselves incarcerated under exactly the opposite conditions, and many died from illness and gross maltreatment.
Sanitation in those days was appalling and such medical knowledge as existed was often crude and sometimes based on horribly erroneous fallacies. One wonders whether Edward Waldegrave died as a result of illness after a period of just over five months' incarceration. One might also consider that he might have been ill at the time of his arrest to have perished during his confinement.
His medical adviser, Dr Fryer, was present at Borley Hall when Waldegrave was taken, but there is no direct evidence to tell us whether Fryer was there in his capacity as a physician, or whether he was there to take part in the banned liturgy as one of this staunch Catholic family.
There are other questions that arise. In requesting the wardship of Sir Edward's son, did William Paulet perhaps know the likely consequences for his friend if the baronet was found guilty of Papist activities, or did he suspect that an informer had been planted in Waldegrave's household? It would not be unreasonable to suggest that the Queen had made up her mind to get rid of a rich and powerful potential enemy anyway by having him despatched to the next world, a man whom she must have considered to be guilty of treason in refusing to accept the Oath of Supremacy, and guilty of heresy under Protestant law.
If Waldegrave was to be executed, he may have known what was coming and made haste, as far as he was permitted, to settle his affairs for he certainly made a will, recorded in the Public Records Office.
Also we should not ignore the possibility that Sir Edward may have been consigned to the less than tender mercies of the Tower's rackmaster to extract a confession of either treason or heresy or both. One of the greatest difficulties in examining the fate of Sir Edward Waldegrave is the apparent paucity of day-to-day accounts of what happened to many of the Tower's prisoners. The PRO, for example, informed me that they had no records from the Office of the Lieutenant of the Tower before the beginning of the 1660s.
If Waldegrave was either racked or executed or both, then this, coupled with his eventual burial under Protestant rites could be viewed as having compounded an injustice that could never be atoned for 'spiritually', until and unless his persecutors were brought to book.
Like hundreds of others, Sir Edward Waldegrave could be considered a victim of gross religious persecution and injustice, and his premature demise was never avenged. When looked at from a psychic viewpoint by those who retain an open mind about the theory of a conscience or consciousness that survives physical death, there could be a good reason for the ghost of Sir Edward Waldegrave to be seen at Borley. There still remains the problem of discovering the exact cause of his death.
One of many people contacted in trying to get at the answers was the well-known historian, A. L. Rowse, author of many works on medieval England. He told me that Waldegrave died naturally but did not feel disposed to elaborate on the subject.
We turn once again to the Rectory and the site on which it stood. We need at this point to refer to the excavations on the site at the time the tunnel was found. If one looks at the layout of the old foundations found at Borley, and recalls that the Waldegraves were responsible for the upkeep of a Rectory at Borley from the time of Henry VIII onwards, it becomes almost certain that there was a Rectory or chaplain's house there which existed before Borley Place was built, a house which now seems almost certain to have been pulled down to make way for Herringham's Rectory.
Oddly enough on the 1841 tithe map, Borley Place is also shown as being a rectory and it is usually stated locally that at the time Henry Bull arrived Borley Place was the official Rectory. He certainly used it as such until the new Borley building was completed in 1863.
Like a number of people, I strongly suspect that the tunnel found under the lane outside connected the old Rectory with the church. Parts of this tunnel were found some years before the main part, by a local man named Farrance, working in the grounds of Borley Place, and tunnels such as these were not uncommon in Tudor times, being used as a means of escape and concealment.
Just suppose that Waldegrave himself became suspicious of the planting of a Queen's agent in his household at Borley Hall. As a committed Papist himself, and having been in trouble earlier for his beliefs during King Henry's time, he must have known full well that he ran the risk of being spied on. The Calendars of State Papers Domestic, in those entries that refer to the arrest and arraignment of Waldegrave and Sir Thomas Wharton, hint darkly at various plots against the Queen.
It is known that although not really a cruel person by nature, she was prepared to deal harshly with anyone whom she may have believed was trying to aid any moves to remove her from the throne in favour of her Catholic cousin, Mary.
There can be little doubt that had they been approached for support in such a plot, the Waldegraves would not have been unsympathetic; indeed they would have stood to gain considerably from any new Catholic monarchy as Sir Edward had already benefited by the grace of Queen Mary.
Against this background, how tempting it would have been to Elizabeth, or more probably to some of her more unscrupulous ministers, to have Waldegrave watched. As patron of Borley Church, it is not inconceivable that Waldegrave had the discreet connivance of the Rector, whom he paid, thus being able to use the Rectory for business of a dangerous nature, where any dubious servant in his own household could be kept away. In spite of such precautions, it is possible that someone could have discovered the tunnel and used it to listen in on Waldegrave.
The problem with this is that if the Rector at that time, the Rev. William Cooper, did conceal the perilous activities of the man who was his paymaster, then he himself ran the risk of being found out. But he continued as Rector until four years after Waldegrave's death, being succeeded in 1565 by the Rev. Stephen Luskyn.
There was always the possibility that he himself could have betrayed Waldegrave to protect his own safety in a rather dangerous situation, which would at least have saved him from being denounced as a heretic and for having collaborated with a Papist. In fact, when the betrayal did come, it was from a different quarter entirely.
There was, and still is, a persistent popular idea that the Bull family were descended from Anne Boleyn. Tradition has it that in the aftermath of the execution of Henry's wayward queen and some of her rakish associates, the surviving members of her family changed their name to Bullen to avoid further persecution at the hands of Henry, and that in time the name was further shortened to Bull.
It does not seem impossible that members of the Bullen or Bull family might have tried to regain some of their lost glory by betraying Waldegrave to the Protestant establishment. Anne Boleyn is said to have kept a house at Bulmer, which is no more than two or three miles from Borley and it is known for certain that the Bull family proper held a lot of property in the district for a very long time, Henry Bull's father, Edward, owning the massive and outlandish rectory at Pentlow, four miles from Borley.
It would be ironic indeed, assuming that the Boleyn-Bullen-Bull chain was valid, that another descendant, Henry Dawson Bull, should build a new Rectory on the Borley site some three centuries later.
There was always in my mind the possibility that Waldegrave was betrayed, and the reader will shortly discover that that is exactly what did happen. It is certainly not unreasonable to take the view that the old Rectory at Borley was the scene of the start of Waldegrave's undoing; events that left an entrenched atmosphere on the site. If his betrayal had been assisted by members of the Bull family, it would, in spiritualist eyes, have meant that the building of another Bull house on that very site three centuries later very likely set in motion the disturbances for which the Victorian Borley Rectory was to become famous.
We have to look back now to the time of Edward Waldegrave's arrest. It is here that we find the proof that he was betrayed, and from historical records we now learn who it was who did so.
According to the Calendars of State Papers Domestic, Waldegrave's own downfall came in the spring of 1561. On or about April 17 of that year, Edmond Grindall, the Bishop of London, informed Sir William Cecil of the Privy Council that the arrest had occurred of a Papist priest, John Cox, alias John Devon, and also expressed the view that 'the Privy Council would surely punish him for his magic and conjuration'.
Under interrogation by Hugh Darrell, who was a Justice of the Peace for the county of Kent, Cox/Devon admitted to the celebration of the forbidden Mass, firstly at the home of Sir Thomas Wharton of Newhall, Essex, and to being received in the house of Sir Edward Waldegrave at Borley, as well as other places, where he saw various 'papish books and superstitious ornaments', this seemingly having taken place about four days previously. One can but wonder who had betrayed John Cox in the first place.
Evidence quite plainly shows that by April 19 or 20, Waldegrave's freedom was at an end. Certainly by that date, Sir Edward's home at Borley Hall had been searched and the Earl of Oxford had sent letters found there to the Privy Council.
The interrogation of Edward Waldegrave and his wife Frances went on throughout June and July of 1561, details appearing in the Calendars of State Papers of the indictment and conviction of Waldegrave at the Commission of Oyer, held at Brentwood, Essex, before the Earl of Oxford on June 3, 1561. During July, Waldegrave was answering the various charges brought against him.
A study of Thomas Parker's letter to Sir Edward, in which Forster the fishmonger and the price of Rhenish wine were among the topics, reveals a very likely candidate for Cox/Devon's betrayer: the manservant Goldney, who Sir Edward was considering taking into his household service.
According to Thomas Parker, who knew much of this man's character, Goldney was a deceitful and cunning individual, and something of a past master at securing a situation for his own advantage at the expense of others. It is possible that on the basis of this unsatisfactory estimation of Goldney's character, Sir Edward would have had no more to do with the man and sent him packing, but if Waldegrave did in fact employ Goldney, it seems plausible for such a cunning rogue to easily play turncoat on payment by interested parties, and reveal all to some agent of the Queen.
Thomas Parker's letter to Sir Edward was written in November 1560, and in April of the following year Waldegrave was arrested. If he was, as is at least possible, intent upon backing a Catholic reformation against Queen Elizabeth, and he would certainly have benefited personally from the rise of a new Catholic monarch, then he was never to see a fulfilment of that quest.
If indeed the artful Goldney succeeded in persuading Sir Edward Waldegrave into giving him a chance in his employ, this was soon to cost the Baronet his liberty, and eventually if indirectly, his life.
Turning now to the search of the houses of Sir Thomas Wharton and Sir Edward Waldegrave, we find a suggestion that Waldegrave may well have been involved in a movement against the Protestant establishment, though whether this proves that he was directly involved with active treason is open to question.
In his letter to Sir William Cecil of the Privy Council, the Earl of Oxford states:
'Upon search of Sir Edward Waldegrave's house, I found among other things, certain letters whereof I have sent your Lordships one already, and the rest by these bringers, by which letters diverse presumptions of scheming minds and doings towards the state and government are imparted. I have called him before me twice to understand what he would voluntarily confess of his disorders, which in no ways he would until last, and then as little as might be, which I have certified amongst the confessions.'
The last portion of the letter leads me to wonder whether, as Sir Edward would not answer as to his actions 'until last', he ended up being physically 'persuaded' to make a confession, bringing to the surface once again the question as to whether he died as a result of his interrogation, or whether it was just due to natural causes.
Another curious link in this whole affair is revealed in the letter in that it stated that the priest, John Devon, was the parish priest of Pentlow and was in possession of items of holy service that belonged to Pentlow Church. How ironic it is that some 300 years later there should come another Rectory of Pentlow, Edward Bull, whose son Henry was to build and occupy a Victorian Borley Rectory on the site that was perhaps occupied by the Rectory for which Sir Edward Waldegrave had been responsible.
An interesting point about the Earl of Oxford's letter is that it seems to indicate that whereas Sir Thomas Wharton was guilty of religious offences, such as having taken part in Mass and being in possession of implements of heresy (crucifixes, images of the Virgin Mary and other such articles) and therefore illegal under Protestant law, Sir Edward Waldegrave was in much more serious trouble, being in possession of apparently treasonable papers.
The matter of heresy, the conduct of forbidden liturgy, with which Sir Edward was charged, is well illustrated in the confession of John Cox/Devon the priest, given before the Justice of the Peace, Hugh Darrell:
'The said within John Devon Clarke (sic) sayeth that on Tuesday next following the Friday within written, he came to Sir Edward Waldegrave, Knight, to his house at Borley in Essex and there made his abode one month in the company of Doctor Rambrege, late Dean of Litchfield, and daily did eat and drink at the only table of the said Sir Edward Waldegrave.'
I have modernised the Elizabethan spelling and some of the archaic grammar of these documents for the benefit of readers, but they are otherwise exactly as originally written. I am indebted to Mrs P. M. Winzar, of Charing in Kent, who has translated the appalling handwriting of the original documents into readable English, while retaining the old spelling and punctuation.
During Devon's sojourn at Borley he was also given money by Sir Edward, and received from Lady Frances Waldegrave a book of the Sarum liturgy, which was the form formerly used at Salisbury.
An interrogation of another man concerned with this period of anti-Papist persecution, one Thomas Wood, reveals the belief held by the authorities that there was a Catholic reformation plot brewing against the reign of Elizabeth I; also a fear that the French, in collusion with Scotland, were supporting the Catholic side in plans against the Protestant State.
There is a curiously familiar ring in terms of the Borley story, in that this link between Borley and France, popularly believed in connection with the story of the ghost nun of Borley Rectory, should have surfaced in connection with the time and circumstances of Sir Edward's downfall!
Having had some insight into the course of events that brought about the undoing of Borley's Lord of the Manor, we are still left with the unanswered question as to whether he met his death through illness or whether he was in fact executed.
Sir Edward Waldegrave's tomb in Borley Church
Sir Edward Waldegrave made his last will and testament during August 1561 and this gives the only definite pointer to just how he died. There is little doubt that the five months or so of his captivity in the Tower could have been sufficient for him to become ill enough to have died as a result, though it seems just as likely that he could have already been in poor health to have perished in that time.
To date, I have been unable to find any records of the Tower of London that might state exactly how Sir Edward died. We cannot prove that he was executed but it is known that during his first imprisonment he became ill and was eventually freed to house arrest before final pardon, so that he could well have become ill again.
As to possible torture, again there is no written evidence as such, but there is just that one line in the Earl of Oxford's letter which gives a faint hint that Waldegrave might have had a confession extracted from him.
It is not possible to prove that one of the ghost figures seen at Borley Rectory was that of Sir Edward Waldegrave. What the writer does believe though is that there is sufficient historical evidence about the life of this enigmatic baronet and his eventual downfall to make him a very strong candidate for the identity of one of the strange figures seen during the long history of the Rectory disturbances. The case can be summed up as follows:
1. Sir Edward Waldegrave was a committed Catholic, and was in serious trouble with King Henry VIII for refusing to carry out duties that would amount to an acceptance of Catholic persecution.
2. Having once been imprisoned for his beliefs, it is not unreasonable to suggest that when another Protestant monarch came to the throne, the authorities decided that this powerful and influential Catholic should be watched as a potential enemy of the Church and State.
3. It is now certain, from written records, that Waldegrave continued to follow Catholic rites and that during the spring of 1561 a fellow Papist and, what is worse, a priest, betrayed Waldegrave to the authorities. As a result he and Sir Thomas Wharton were arrested and brought before the Earl of Oxford at Brentwood, charged with heresy and, very possibly, with treason.
4. Following his indictment, and almost certainly because of his refusal to accept the Protestant Oath as well as other offences, Waldegrave was sent to the Tower, for the second time in his life. While a prisoner there, he died, aged 44 years.
5. Following his death, he was in effect the victim of a posthumous gross insult in being buried by a Protestant Rector, whose living had been in his gift as Lord of the Manor, in a Protestant grave.
6. There is clear evidence, both from the Calendars of State Papers Domestic and from the Calendars of Patent Rolls, that Waldegrave was responsible for the upkeep of a Rectory at Borley, which archaeological evidence tells us very likely stood on the same site as the Bull Rectory. It is also not beyond the bounds of possibility that Waldegrave himself made use of the Rectory, possibly because of the existence of someone among the staff of Borley Hall whom he may have suspected of being a spy.
7. Waldegrave was betrayed, died and was buried in an alien church by a man who himself used the Rectory for which Waldegrave was responsible, and thus this site, on which another rectory was to be built some 300 years later, was to become part of the scene of his downfall, hence the appearance of his ghost in the grounds or the house itself.
8. Ethel Bull was disturbed by a man sitting on her bed, dressed in a very old-fashioned costume and wearing a tall hat. Such clothing was very much in vogue during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, during whose time Waldegrave died. Ethel Bull was also taken by surprise by a tall figure of a man seen in one of the upstairs corridors of Borley Rectory. Finally, Marion the psychic received from a piece of touchwood the impression of a tall man who became disillusioned with his life and who was troubled by people in the Church who became enemies to him. Though the impression could perhaps have been connected with Harry Bull, the writer thinks, as did Harry Price, that the contact was that of Sir Edward Waldegrave.
So on the available evidence there seems to be a fair basis for stating that Sir Edward Waldegrave is very likely to have been one of the ghost figures of Borley Rectory, and was possibly seen at least twice by one of the Rev. Bull's daughters. I do feel that we may now have found a lost ghost of Borley Rectory, but for the present we must leave the story of Sir Edward Waldegrave.