Cromwell’s skull rested on its pike above Westminster Hall until the late 1680s, when a fierce storm snapped the pole and sent the skull tumbling to the ground. There a passing guard picked it up and tucked it away inside the chimney of his house. The Government, eager to see the head returned to its pike, offered a large reward for its safe return. But in spite of a massive search effort, the head remained hidden for the next few decades. In 1710, the skull turned up again in the possession of a French collector, who displayed it in his London museum.
By this time, much of the post-war animosity toward Cromwell had subsided and the head became more of a curiosity than a political symbol. And following the death of its previous owner, the head was sold to Samuel Russell, a failed actor who claimed to be a distant relative of Cromwell. Russell seems to have been fairly careless with the artifact, and frequently passed it around to his drinking buddies, leading to significant damage to the skull. He finally lost possession of it when a local goldsmith named James Cox demanded the head as payment for a debt Russell owed him.
Cox sold the head in 1799 to three brothers named Hughes, who was interested in staging their own exhibition of the head and charging for admission. In case you’re wondering what the head of the former Lord Protector was worth in today’s money, the skull sold for about seven thousand pounds. Unfortunately for the Hughes brothers, the planned exhibition was a flop and the skull ended up in the possession of one of their daughters, who continued showing the skull to anyone who asked to see it. Finally, in 1815, the skull was sold to the Wilkinson family.
The Wilkinson family kept the skull in their home and were happy to show it as a curiosity to any prominent guests who came to visit. The skull remained in their possession for over a century, stored inside a simple oak box and passed down through the generations. Finally, in 1960, Horace Wilkinson decided that his rather grim family heirloom deserved a proper burial and contacted Sidney Sussex College, which agreed to bury the head on the campus. And in 1962, a few of the living Wilkinsons gathered with representatives of the college for a small ceremony where the head was finally laid to rest.
There was always dispute over whether or not the head was actually that of Oliver Cromwell. Over the years, different teams of researchers have reached different conclusions on its authenticity. In fact, few people’s remains have been the subject of as many legends as Cromwell’s. There are even stories that suggest that Cromwell’s body was swapped out with that of Charles I before his execution. Most evidence suggests that the skull buried by the Wilkinson family was probably Cromwell’s. But the stories surrounding his remains are a reminder of how strongly the events of history can be felt even centuries later.