* * *
‘A pool of blood with brains and
other matter splattered across the
floor and walls’
* * *
Police enquiries showed that Dawson was still serving as an apprentice under the tutelage of the proprietor of the newspaper, Mr Walker. His colleagues described him as a quiet young man who had never shown any animosity towards Jacobs; they even took lunch together on several occasions. No one who worked at the Guardian offices had noted anything concerning in Dawson’s behaviour prior to the attack.
At the police station, whilst giving his statement, it was said that Dawson appeared to be not exactly excited but that he had a ‘wildness in his eye’. He could give no reason for the attack and it was generally thought that he had been suddenly possessed with a violent rage when he attacked the older man. Yet despite this common belief, the attack had been premeditated. The errand lad for the newspaper offices told the police that he had left the axe in the coal place downstairs, where it was used to chop up wood. Before lunch, Dawson had taken it to the jobbing room, as if in readiness for the attack.
The inquest into the murder was held at the White Lion Hotel by the coroner, Mr Dyson, at 7 p.m. on the day of the murder. A solicitor attended on behalf of Mr Walker, and another solicitor, Mr Franklin, appeared on behalf of Dawson. The coroner asked that the inquest be adjourned, as little could be achieved that evening. Mr Franklin stated that as the events had happened so quickly, he had only had the briefest time to speak with his client. He stated that he was anxious to know more about the character and conduct of his client before the examination of witnesses could take place. The jury then proceeded to the Halifax Guardian offices, where they viewed the body; the inquest was adjourned to the following day.
When the inquest resumed, Dawson was in attendance surrounded by some of the largest policemen on the squad. Great curiosity had been aroused because of the nature of the crime and crowds were expected to attend. One of the compositors, James Hislop, spoke of Dawson as being a quiet genial lad who always did everything he was told and never lost his temper, but that during the attack he appeared to be excited and in a frenzy, as he threatened anyone who came near him that he would ‘kill them all’. Mr Tucker, the surgeon, gave evidence as to the state of the prisoner’s health. He said that Dawson had been weak-minded from his childhood and that some years ago he had gone to consult him about an imaginary infirmity of a most peculiar nature. On hearing this, the prisoner rushed to attack Mr Tucker, almost screaming in fury, and it took ten men to hold him down. So great was his fury that the coroner and the jury had to adjourn to another room so that Mr Tucker could continue. He stated that:
After this consultation, Dawson came back two days later still convinced that he was ill. He then returned every day for three successive days and would not believe that there was nothing wrong with him. I had absolutely no doubt of Dawson’s insanity and would not have been surprised to hear that he had committed suicide. However, I thought him too meek and mild to ever kill someone.
Nevertheless, his doubt had resulted in him warning several people about Dawson. He stated that in his opinion Dawson was undoubtedly insane when he committed this act. Once he had completed the post-mortem on the dead man he relayed that he had found over twenty-five separate injuries, which had been inflicted while Jacobs had been on the floor. He said the first blow would have caused instant death, as it drove the skull into the brain.
The jury only retired for five minutes before returning with a guilty verdict and Dawson was ordered to take his trial at the next assizes. Before he was removed to York, Dawson was permitted to speak with his parents and Mr Tucker, the surgeon. He apologised to the doctor for his behaviour, but complained of pains in his head which had not allowed him to sleep for some time.
On Friday morning he was taken to Halifax train station, where he was conveyed to York on the 6.14 train, in the custody of Inspector Gawkroger and PC Turner. When he arrived at the station, despite the early hour, there were hundreds of people assembled to see him take his departure. He appeared calm and collected as he took his seat, handcuffed to the officers in the railway carriage. When he arrived at York it seems that his notoriety had spread, the crowd of people so great that he had to spend half an hour at the Station Hotel until enough of the crowd could be dispersed, allowing him to continue his journey to the castle. Upon arrival, he was interviewed by the prison surgeon, Mr Anderson, which was usual practice for new prisoners. The surgeon found that even when asked the most innocuous questions, Dawson would assume a fighting position, shouting at him that he had no right to ask him such questions, and he would have to be restrained.
On Saturday 8 May, the body of James Edward Jacobs was interred at Halifax Cemetery. So popular a figure had he been in the town that hundreds of people gathered in the cemetery grounds whilst the burial took place. The headstone to his grave reads: ‘In memory of James Edward Jacobs of Halifax, who died 5th May 1858, aged 34 years. “Watch and pray for ye know not when the hour cometh”.’
It was reported that while he was incarcerated awaiting trial, Dawson had been quite lucid, although when questioned he was reluctant to refer to the murder. His only outburst had been on one occasion in the chapel, where he began to act so violently that divine service was disturbed and he had to be removed. His parents visited him before the trial and to them he showed the greatest reluctance to talk about the murder.
On Wednesday 14 July, William Dawson was brought before the judge, Mr Baron Martin, at the York assizes. Mr Shaw, for the prosecution, opened the case and gave an account of the murder of Jacobs. For the defence, Mr Price stated that the prisoner could give no reason for the attack and there was no motive as to why Dawson should have murdered the deceased man. James Hislop told the judge that he had worked at the newspaper for six years and had been one of the men in the room with Dawson when he began his attack. He stated that his attention was drawn to the events by someone saying that Dawson was killing Jacobs. He described Dawson as being of a close disposition and of very studious habits, and that he frequently sat for hours, gazing vacantly whilst at work. But the one person he seemed to be closest to was Jacobs. Another man who was present at the time of the attack, Samuel Harris, corroborated Hislop’s evidence and admitted to being petrified by the manner and appearance of Dawson. Harris had noted that his emotional state seemed to have changed in the last month before the murder. The next witness was Dr Turner, who had known Dawson from childhood. He told the court that, in his opinion, Dawson suffered from a form of monomania – once he had struck the first blow it prevented him from having any self-control. The defence agreed and Mr Price stated that:
Halifax railway station, where Dawson was conveyed to York under police guard.
He did not intend to dispute the facts and the question for the jury was simple: would they consign an unfortunate man to the gallows, or save his life. That could only be resolved by them, and they alone had to decide whether, at the time of the murder, Dawson was aware of his actions. If the jury thought that at the time the prisoner was suffering from insanity, they must acquit him on those grounds. Indeed, the manner of Jacob’s death could only be described as the act of a madman.
The grave of James Edward Jacobs at Halifax Cemetery.
At this stage of the proceedings, the prosecution stated that they would withdraw, and the judge directed the jury to acquit the prisoner on the grounds of insanity – he was ordered to be kept at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Throughout the trial Dawson had looked decidedly vacant, proving the judgement to be a sound one. He was safely guarded and watched by two officers of the prison, who stood on either side of him.
Cases like these are very shocking to the people who witness them, particularly when the murderer has shown little aggression beforehand. Mental health was poorly understood in the nineteenth century, and the cases that had been diagnosed were listed as religious mania, melancholia and delirium tremens. Little idea a
bout how to treat such illnesses was known, or understood, and many bewildered medical men resorted, in desperation, to leeching. Depression in women was not acknowledged in the Victorian era and post-natal depression was unheard of, as seen in the following case.
CASE FIVE 1864
‘I’VE DONE IT
AND WHAT’S
DONE CAN’T
BE UNDONE’
* * *
Suspect: Mary Dyson
Age: Unknown
Charge: Murder
Sentence: Penal Servitude
* * *
West Riding towns like Halifax were a magnet to immigrants coming from other countries, hoping to find work. In the nineteenth century, so many Irish people came to the town that it had its own Irish Quarter. Despite the promise of better wages and working conditions, the impact of being in another country, often without the comfort of parents and relatives to support them, had a large impact on family life. For many it was just too much to take.
Mary and William Dyson were married in 1859 in Sligo, Ireland. William had been discharged from the army and was working as a stonemason and lodging with Mary’s parents at Sligo, which is where they first met – they were married a few months later. Soon after the marriage they returned to England, but it was hard for William to find work and they had to return to Ireland in November 1862, to live with Mary’s parents once again. Determined to find work, William travelled back to England without his family and found employment at Lowertown, Rastrick, near Halifax. When Mary rejoined her husband they lodged at the house of Mr and Mrs Aspinall, but they had been looking for a house of their own.
On Monday, 11 April 1864 the couple and their two children, Mary, aged two-and-a-half years, and Archibald, aged five months, moved to another cottage on Ogden Lane, Rastrick. The new house was much bigger, although the couple had little in the way of furniture or belongings. Mary often told her husband that she was depressed and that she didn’t know what to do with herself during the day while he was at work. William was concerned about her, as her conduct led him to believe that she was not always in her right mind – she herself had told him that her mind was uneasy. The previous winter he had been out of work once again and having little food and money may have contributed to the decline in her state of mind.
On Wednesday 13 April, William got up to go to work at Brookfoot, which was about two miles away from his home. Mary woke up before him and, as usual, made his breakfast. William left the house at about 6.20 a.m. and when he left, Mary was in the kitchen and the children were still in bed. At 7.15 p.m. he went to see his aunt in Ellend Edge to buy some utensils from her, before returning home at around 9 p.m. He noted that Mary seemed to be rather quiet and a little downcast. In order to try to alleviate her depression, the couple discussed whether Mary and the children should go back and live with her parents in Ireland for a short while, for a break. But after discussing it, they both knew that they couldn’t afford the fare, which Mary seemed to accept. They went to bed at about 12.30 a.m. and William was up again at 6 a.m. Once again, Mary prepared breakfast for him and she walked with him to the door. She had spoken very little that morning, but gave him no reason to seriously worry about her state of mind.
Later that morning, Mary appeared at the house of a neighbour named Mary Walker to ask her to mangle some clothes for her. Mrs Walker had not met Mary before but she later commented that she seemed very friendly. Mary left the clothes to be mangled before returning to her own house.
At around 9.20 a.m., Mary appeared at PC Bracewell’s house (he was one of the West Riding constabulary stationed at Rastrick) and told him that she had killed her two children. She told PC Bracewell:
I have murdered my two children, these hands have done it; if I have millions of pounds in the world I would give them all to recall the deed that I have done. William has been a good husband and an affectionate father, and I have deprived him of both titles. I gave Mary a bit of bread and then killed her, wretch that I am.
Leaving Mary at his house in the charge of his wife, PC Bracewell called for the other village constable, PC William Ambler, and they both went to Mary’s house. There they found the door open and the bodies of the two children, which appeared to have been placed very carefully at either side of the kitchen table. In the little girl’s hand was a piece of bread, which she had been eating when she was killed. There was a good deal of blood, and five or six inches behind the youngest child they found an open razor – blood still evident on the blade. There was a bowl with some dough in it on the kitchen table, as well as a knife and part of a loaf of bread.
PC Bracewell then went back to his house and told the prisoner that he was taking her to Halifax police station, where she would be arrested and charged with the murder of her two children. Meanwhile, surgeon Mr Henry Pritchett was called to the house and he examined the bodies of the two children. He saw that their throats had been cut across, very deeply, and he was certain they would both have died immediately. He went to PC Bracewell’s house and asked Mary why she had done it. She told him, ‘I’ve done it and what’s done can’t be undone.’ She gave the same answer to the other questions that he asked her. He noticed that she seemed very dejected, yet restless at the same time; sighing and wringing her hands and walking around the small kitchen. He had asked her if she had enough food and she replied in the affirmative. He then asked her if they were good children and she told him with much feeling, ‘Oh yes, little darlings, they were very good.’ Accompanied by PCs Bracewell and Ambler, Mary was taken to the train station. She wept on the journey to Halifax and made several references to the fact that she had killed them both. She said that she ‘had tried to be like others and I cannot.’ PC Bracewell took this to mean that she was referring to the state of the house, which was very poorly furnished. Throughout the journey she was agitated, wringing her hands and appearing to be quite wild.
On Friday, 15 April 1864, an inquest was held into the murders of Mary and Archibald, and the first to give evidence was William Dyson, who displayed obvious signs of anxiety and shock. He told the deputy coroner, Mr Ingram, that he and his wife had been on very good terms and that they had had no rows or quarrels in recent months. He described his wife as being an affectionate mother and said there was no reason to suspect that she wanted to murder the children. The coroner asked him if he was aware of any of his wife’s family being insane; Dyson believed so, but could not say for sure. One of the jury asked him if his wife was addicted to alcohol but he refuted this, saying that she had signed the pledge at eight years of age and had kept to it ever since. He did say that for the past month she had been complaining that her head hurt, and that she had seemed to be very confused in the way she spoke to him sometimes. The coroner asked Mary if she had any questions to ask her husband but she replied in the negative. The next to give evidence were PCs Bracewell and Ambler, who described the events which led to the discovery of the two little bodies. PC Ambler caused a sensation in the court when he produced the razor, which still had blood on it. The surgeon, Mr Henry Pritchett, gave his evidence and described performing the initial examination on the bodies and Mrs Dyson’s responses to his questions.
The wife of the farmer with whom Mr and Mrs Dyson had previously lodged, Lydia Aspinall, then gave her evidence and told the coroner that the couple had lived with her and her husband from August until they moved to Ogden Lane on 9 April. She had thought on at least two occasions that Mary’s mind was not always ‘right’. She had talked to Lydia about weird dreams she had been having, and said that she was convinced something would happen to her husband. She worried about what would become of them as a family if he was to have an accident. In reply to a question put to her by the coroner, Mrs Aspinall stated that Mary had never wished to return back to Ireland, mentioning that she had said, ‘There are twenty comforts here [in England] to where there was one in Ireland.’ Mrs Aspinall went on to tell the jury that Mr and Mrs Dyson had always seemed, to her at least, to be on good terms
with each other and that the prisoner had always appeared to be an affectionate mother towards her two children. The coroner then asked Mary if she had any questions to put to the witness, but she again replied in the negative. He then asked her if she had anything to say and she replied, ‘All that has been said is true.’
The coroner then summed up the evidence for the jury. He told them that at this stage they had no need to inquire into the state of mind of the prisoner, as that was a matter for experts elsewhere – all that they had to conclude was how these children came to their deaths. The coroner told them that he recognised it was a fearful case but the evidence was quite clear and he felt that the jury could have no difficulty in arriving at their verdict. The prisoner had admitted that the evidence was true and that she alone had murdered the children. The jury returned with a verdict of wilful murder and she was then taken to the Halifax county police office and charged at noon with murder.
On Saturday 17 April, Mary was brought before the West Riding justices at Halifax Magistrates’ Court. The evidence from the witnesses and her own confession left the jury in no doubt that she was guilty and ordered her to take trial at the next York Assizes. She told the chaplain of the prison that she had intended to do away with herself after killing the children, but when she put the razor down in order to lay the children on the floor she had been horrified at her actions; she could not pick up the instrument and went to give herself up to the police at Rastrick instead.
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