The Murder of Harriet Monckton

by Elizabeth Haynes

  Never mind my suppositions; it did not matter. None of it mattered, except for Matilda. The greyness of Hill House Farm became somehow warm and golden and bright when she was there. All thoughts of leaving were banished; the walk to school every morning was a desolate trudge, the walk home again was almost a dance.

  Matilda Frisnell, my love, my first love.

  I suppose Matilda was to me as I was to Harriet. Our closeness, however, which was everything to me, was commonplace to her, and when her appointment came to an end three months later she applied for several positions and casually accepted the most enticing, even though it was in Yorkshire, which might have been in another continent as far as I was concerned. I hid my dismay, pride and self-control standing me in good stead as they always do, and I wished her well, and on the day we parted she was moved to tearful expressions of undying affection but it did not prevent her leaving and so, I think, cannot have gone very deep.

  Despite everything that transpired between us, I remember her fondly; after Harriet came into my life, Matilda Frisnell began to seem in many ways like a dream. When I think of her now, it is in the manner of some exotic bird. Sometimes she is caged; sometimes she is free.

  Or perhaps that is I.

  Reverend George Verrall

  The inquest resumed this morning, the room much as it had been on Wednesday last. If it was possible, I fancied that even more of the townspeople were present, presumably having forgone their labours on that day to pack themselves into the meeting room. More than half of the room was taken up with spectators, and still more seats had been provided for the gentlemen and ladies of the town, which now included John Joyce, the high constable, and Long Bob Sutton, the bailiff.

  To begin the day’s proceedings the coroner summoned Mr James Ilott, the surgeon. The room buzzed with gossip such that the coroner had to strike the flat of his hand upon the desk to get them all to be quiet.

  The surgeon was duly brought forth, and bidden to sit in the single chair. He was a young man, fair-haired and vigorous, with cheeks that flushed crimson when he beheld the size of his audience.

  ‘Your attendance is most appreciated, sir,’ the coroner remarked, once the man had identified himself. ‘You have examined the deceased?’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘And perhaps you can begin by explaining the circumstances under which you were called out.’

  ‘Of course. I was sent for on the evening of Tuesday last, to attend at Mr Verrall’s chapel yard in Widmore Lane. I went directly. I found the deceased lying in the privy. To my knowledge she had not been touched prior to my arrival.’

  One of the ladies at the front, fanning herself vigorously, made a noise of distaste at the word ‘privy’.

  ‘And your immediate thoughts as to the condition of the deceased?’

  Ilott unfolded some sheets of paper that he had brought with him, and referred to his notes. ‘She had apparently died from some convulsive action, or effort. The pupils of the eyes were dilated, the tongue clenched firmly between the teeth. There was a dark viscid fluid escaping from the mouth. The hands were clenched; her right hand was behind her. Her left hand was in front of her body and a clean white handkerchief was either in her left hand, or between it and her body.’

  that one occasion she turned away from me

  wiped her mouth with her handkerchief

  she thought I didn’t see

  ‘She was in a semi-recumbent position, sitting on the floor of the privy in the right-hand corner with her left side against the seat. Her face was towards the door, which was open. The right leg was against the door and prevented it being closed; the left leg was bent.’

  I glanced around the room. Not so much as a whisper disturbed the proceedings now; everyone present was open-mouthed and intent on hearing the details of the corpse.

  Harriet’s corpse

  ‘Her head was bent rather forward, her chin being on her chest. Her bonnet was on, and the front of it was bent down over her face.’

  Ilott cleared his throat. Someone in the room, taking advantage of the pause rather as one does between acts at the playhouse, coughed. The coroner’s assistant was taking notes, and Ilott seemed to be aware of this, for he paused regularly to allow the scribe time to catch up, although the man did not appear to be writing in a hurried manner.

  ‘Her clothes were not disarranged. She had boots on, and she did not appear to have walked very far, as the mud was principally confined to the sole of the boots. I should say, there is one seat in the privy with two holes in it; both were open.’

  Miss Holgate gave out another ‘tsk’, slightly louder than before. It did seem to me rather as though Ilott was obsessing over the nature of the building, and thus avoiding the business at hand.

  ‘Do go on, Mr Ilott,’ the coroner said, glancing at his scribe. ‘You must not worry about Mr Gregg here, he can quite easily manage to keep up, can’t you, George?’

  The scribe looked up, briefly.

  a face that could curdle milk

  Ilott coughed again. ‘The body was quite cold and stiff. She had been dead some hours, I should say at least fifteen to twenty hours. I gave directions for the removal from the privy to her own home, and I was very particular in observing that nothing fell from her when removed. I examined the floor directly round about, also the surface of the night soil, which was encrusted and hard. I found no vessel of any kind, a bottle or any broken pieces of china or glass.’

  A murmur had started up amongst the throng at the back of the room. I caught whispers, a single word, repeated: ‘murder’ … ‘murder’ …

  that she had not taken her own life

  for that we must be grateful

  ‘No vessel?’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘Pray continue.’

  ‘I proceeded with the body to her mother’s home and made a careful examination externally. I found no marks of violence. I had her clothes removed. She had been in the habit of tight lacing.’

  my hand upon the flat of her back

  solid like a board my fingers tracing the lines up to her neck and at last the softness

  the warmth

  The Holgate goat tsked again. All this talk of privies and lacing; whatever should come next?

  ‘I searched her pockets and found a penknife, her thimbles, a purse containing five fourpenny pieces and a small silver coin of Bogotá-de-real; one penny piece, a ticket of a Sunday School and a letter signed “Richard Field”, which I delivered to Sergeant King of the police force.’

  and no half-sovereigns

  Mr Gregg duly noted the list.

  Richard Field, Richard Field

  Oh, that I could tell all that I know about that man

  fornicator

  liar

  moral bankrupt

  ‘When the body was stripped there were no marks of violence on it. I noticed a smell from the mouth, apparently that of prussic acid.’

  Here Ilott paused again, and cast a glance towards the crowds of us gathered at the back. He seemed to notice me for the first time; his eyes widened and, I thought, he gave a tiny nod in my direction. The flush on his cheeks darkened further.

  what now?

  what next, man?

  ‘Do continue, Mr Ilott.’

  ‘It – it so struck me, at the time, that the mammary glands were enlarged, and that there was a dark areola around the nipples. I was able to squeeze a few drops of serous fluid from them. The abdomen was enlarged, but from the rigidity of the muscles I could not make out the uterus. I was told her health had been very good.’

  The murmuring began again, like a low hum rising from a chorus. One or two of them gasped. I heard Jane Walker mutter, ‘What’s he saying?’ And Miss Holgate said, ‘Well, I never did’ and made to stand. The coroner gave her a look that brought her immediately to her seat once more.

  a dark areola around the nipples

  I was able to squeeze them

  squeeze them

  ‘I
yesterday, pursuant to the orders of this court, made a post-mortem examination of the body, between fifty and sixty hours after death.’

  The coroner held up his hand to interrupt. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, but ladies in particular, I should mention at this point that the testimony of this witness is liable to include some medical details of a somewhat delicate nature. It is important to the duty of the court that these details be aired openly and without hesitation. Therefore, if anyone in the public gallery would wish to absent themselves at this point, I should be grateful if you could do it now, rather than to interrupt the proceedings at an inopportune moment.’

  Nobody moved, or breathed. I glanced at them all, staring at the coroner. Even the Holgate woman was silent. At the back, old Sarah Churcher – grandmother to Tom – growled, ‘What did he say?’ but, other than that, not a sound from any of them.

  vultures

  ‘Very well, Mr Ilott. Pray continue.’

  ‘As I said, sir. I examined the body. My father, a surgeon, and Mr Sparkes, also a surgeon, were both present with me. But little change had taken place in the body. I opened the head. The membranes of the brain were healthy with no effusion below, although the vessels on the surface of the brain were rather congested. The brain was, however, perfectly healthy with no effusion into the lateral ventricles, or at its base.’

  No sound, save the scratch-scratch of Mr Gregg’s nib against the surface of the paper, and the occasional chink as he dipped his pen.

  ‘I opened the chest, and abdomen. On opening the cavity of the abdomen the impregnated uterus was seen occupying the lower part, the intestine being pushed up by it. I fancied there was the smell of prussic acid.’

  prussic acid

  prussic acid

  her mouth full of blood

  ‘There was a small quantity of one and a half ounces of serous fluid in the pleura. The lungs were congested with scarcely any adhesion, otherwise quite healthy. The heart, about its ordinary size and healthy. The large veins of the chest were filled with blood. I removed the stomach and oesophagus with their contents for further examination, previously securing each end carefully by a ligature. The liver, the spleen and the kidneys were all in a perfectly normal state. The pancreas was rather congested, and the lining membrane of the larynx reddened. The tongue was dry on the surface and firmly clenched between the teeth, partly protruding from the mouth and wounded by the teeth.’

  she bit her own tongue

  what pain must there have been, before she fell

  before she fell

  ‘… the papillae distinct, and the stomach contained about four ounces of thickish fluid with scarcely any solid matter. The contents smelled strongly of prussic acid. I put the contents carefully in a clean bottle and corked it tightly. The lining membrane of the oesophagus was intensely reddened, plexus of vessels distinct. The stomach at various points, but more especially near to the oesophagus, was inflamed and congested. In some portions of the small intestine, similar patches were visible …’

  I glanced across at the faces. At Miss Holgate, her expression aghast but fascinated, like all of them. They wanted all the detail and yet were disgusted by it. You all have the same insides, I wanted to shout. God’s creatures, all of you, tainted by drink, and vitriol, and sin.

  ‘I examined the uterus and its appendages. From the general appearance of the foetus, a well-formed male, I am of the opinion that she was between five and six months advanced in pregnancy …’

  a well-formed male

  a well-formed male

  ‘… the ovaries were small …’

  for unto us a son is given

  between five and six months advanced

  five and six

  And someone muttered, ‘God bless the child,’ and someone else besides said, ‘Pity the poor girl.’ And amongst them too, someone clucked and yet another said, ‘For shame.’

  ‘The bladder was empty and the vessels at its neck congested. On making a section with the knife into the vagina, a small quantity of whitish mucus escaped and flowed out. I had not time to collect this for further examination and analysis before it mixed with some blood that had previously flowed, but this mucus could indicate, and, perhaps, lead me to suppose, that the deceased had had sexual intercourse just prior to her death.’

  A grimace had fixed itself upon the face of Miss Holgate; too much for her, perhaps. Or maybe not enough.

  ‘I have examined and analysed the contents of the stomach so far as time will allow me at present to do, and I am satisfied of the presence of prussic acid, and to that a very considerable quantity. The dose must have been an extraordinary one, producing, I should say, instant death. The strength of the acid must have been powerful, and the quantity large, for the smell to be so easily perceptible. All of which is very unusual, since by that time it was a full sixty hours after death.’

  ‘And what, Mr Ilott, would have been the action of this quantity of prussic acid upon the deceased?’

  ‘I am most decidedly of the opinion that the deceased could never have had the power after taking the poison to get rid of, or cast away, the vessel out of which it must have been drunk. Almost before the poison could have flowed down her throat her power must have been prostrate, and when down on the floor she would die as she fell, without the ability to alter her position.’

  Murmuring, again.

  ‘I also cannot account for the front of her bonnet’s being bent down on to the face. If she had fallen, it would have been more natural that the back part of it should have been crushed, but that was perfect.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Ilott. One further matter, if you would spare us a few moments longer. I understand that Sergeant King of the police has provided you with an item of evidence?’

  ‘Indeed, sir. I have received from the sergeant a one-and-a-half-ounce phial, apparently containing common smelling salts. From present examination I cannot speak of what it may have contained, but there is no odour at all of prussic acid. I shall be able to state with certainty after analysing the contents, but from present appearances this phial seems to have been embedded in the night soil for some considerable time. I will carefully examine and analyse the contents by the time the inquest next meets.’

  ‘Very well, Mr Ilott. We are most grateful to you for your diligence.’

  The surgeon got to his feet and the murmur of the gathered crowd rose into an excited babble of voices. I heard snatches of conversation, words here and there, grasped by my desperate ears as a hungry man might grasp at a morsel of bread.

  ‘… in the family way!’

  ‘… and her, of all people …’

  ‘… always so very pious …’

  ‘… pity the poor child!’

  and its mother

  and pray for the soul of the father too

  whoever the hell that might be

  And then there he was, standing before the table with his hat tucked under one arm, straight as a poker, moustaches stiffened to a point, hair parted neatly and combed flat against his skull. Sergeant Samuel King.

  Frances Williams

  It took a matter of an hour for the word to spread from the workhouse to Widmore Lane – that Harriet had been pregnant. The surgeon estimated five to six months advanced. As if that wasn’t intrigue enough, the further revelation that she had had relations with a man shortly before her death made it all the more salacious.

  I heard it from Beezley, and then from Alice Isard the butcher’s wife, and from Lizzie Finch, whom I had recently appointed a pupil teacher, since she was a good reader and had a firm hand with the younger children.

  I stretched my face into an arch of surprise, because that is what was expected of me.

  ‘I heard she was six months gone,’ Alice Isard said. She was not addressing me but Ann Metcalf who was standing beside me, mother of Mary Ann, one of my more disruptive pupils.

  ‘That’s what happens when young women go to London without proper supervision,’ said the Metcalf woman. �
��You cannot trust them. And her, such a pious girl! It reflects badly on the chapel, and on the school.’

  ‘Of all the people,’ Alice Isard muttered. She was looking at me as she said it.

  ‘And that she had been helping out at the school! I shall speak to Mr Campling about it.’

  If I had been in any doubt that Mrs Metcalf knew I was standing next to her, that doubt vanished as she turned to me, expecting me to issue some challenge, or defend my friend in some way. What could I say? Afterwards, of course, I thought of any number of responses – that if they considered themselves Christian women they should guard against casting judgement; that Harriet was a better woman than either of them and their daughters had been privileged to meet her at all; that they should speak to me if they had an issue with the standards of education there and not trouble Mr Campling.

  Instead I did none of those things. I walked out of the shop and shut the door fast behind me. As I did so, I heard one of them laugh.

  Later, Beezley said something about ‘the sainted Harriet’ and how the town’s opinion of her would change from this point on. ‘Proper virtuous, she seemed to be,’ he said. ‘Always at chapel, always looking at us like we were something beneath her. Turns out she’s a filthy sinner like the rest of us.’

  He was red in the face, as if Harriet had somehow affronted him personally. Yet, as far as I was aware, Harriet had scarcely passed the time of day with him.

  The sergeant came to the schoolroom at a few minutes after noon. I had not yet rung the bell, and lessons were in progress. Lizzie was examining the younger girls on their sewing, and the older ones were learning a poem with me. The room was peaceful, and when the door opened and the sergeant entered – with merely a cursory knock – all was disruption.