A Burglar Caught by a Skeleton & Other Singular Tales from the Victorian Press

by Clay, Jeremy

  Take the York Herald, one of the papers to carry the wired report of the hapless exploits of the Greensburg Two. The eight pages of that day’s edition brought news of a man kicked to death by drunks; a master mariner who murdered his wife; a violent mugging; a random assault on a passenger at a railway station; a cunning break-in; the theft of weapons from a barracks; and the killing of an insurance agent.

  An easily-alarmed reader of the Herald might fold the paper and think about bolting the door on the world outside. Yet none of these crimes happened in York itself or the surrounding towns. All the neighbourhood ne’er-do-wells had to offer in response was a pinched umbrella, some nicked boots and a couple of smashed windows.

  Like the sworn testimony of an incorrigible liar, Victorian crime statistics should be treated with a certain amount of caution, but it’s generally agreed that rates of theft and violence slumped through the second half of the nineteenth century. Yet reality isn’t necessarily the same as perception. And for that, newspapers must shoulder a good deal of the blame.

  An example. On a July night in 1862, Hugh Pilkington, the MP for Blackburn, was leaving Parliament when he was set upon by two men who knocked him to the ground, choked him and pinched his watch. So began the great garrotting panic of 1862.

  Garrotting was a Victorian brand of mugging, with the stylistic tweak of partial strangulation. Even though the actual number of assaults was negligible, the press and public were soon seeing these dastardly types wherever they looked. There’s a story of a man walking home in the fog who feared he was being followed by a garrotter, and decided the best form of defence was attack. The innocent chap behind, who’d been merely walking the same way, told the police he’d been garrotted.

  Londoners were frightened out of their wits, reported the Gloucestershire Chronicle later that year. ‘They are afraid to walk the streets after dark and the journals which are supposed to lead public opinion follow it by blowing the flame of general fear.’

  The Chronicle pointed out the garrotting scare was proving a useful alibi for the louche. ‘Does a gent appear at the counting-house in the morning with a terrible headache and a pair of black eyes? He has not been drunk overnight but has been garrotted. Does anybody stay out all night and return in a state of bodily or mental dilapidation? He has not been astray, but has been lying insensible at a hospital, the victim of another outrage of those garrotters. The result of all this is that a large number of amiable and Christian people have come to the conclusion that there really ought to be a good deal more hanging.’

  Two years on, a new title hit the newspaper stands: the sensation-hungry Illustrated Police News. This journalistic equivalent of a penny dreadful arrived too late for the garrotting panic, but was in pole position for the defining crimes of this or any other age, and it exploited the opportunity ruthlessly. By common consent Jack the Ripper killed five times. The Illustrated Police News put him on the front page 184 times.

  In between, it titillated and terrified the public with macabre sketches, lurid headlines and a weekly diet of murder and misery served up with unabashed enthusiasm.

  If that York Herald reader felt a twinge of unease, the average subscriber to the Illustrated Police News must have toyed with the idea of stocking up on tinned goods and retiring to a safe room with a blunderbuss and a box of ammunition.

  Snake Charmer and Bearded Lady.

  A Row in a Show

  At Shrewsbury Police Court on Thursday a case of assault which arose between two of the performers at Wombwell’s Menagerie was heard.

  The complainant was Nina Behnke, or ‘Madame Polonoski, the Bearded Lady,’ and the defendant Mary Edwards, the snake charmer. There was a visit to the town of Wombwell’s Menagerie of wild beasts and other curiosities.

  Among the latter was the complainant, who was gifted by nature with a beard. The defendant was a snake charmer. The two ladies were on the stage on Monday night, and in leaving it the complainant accidentally brushed against the dress of the defendant, who thereupon struck the complainant in the face with the head of one of the snakes which she had about her.

  Subsequently the defendant, who had hold of a frying-pan, went up to the complainant and assaulted her, knocking her down, giving her two black eyes, and cutting her face and mouth.

  The defendant said she was not a pugilist, but a snake charmer. When on the platform she had a chain in one hand, a snake in the other, and two other snakes around her neck. The complainant pushed her and struck her, and also caught hold of one of the snakes, which caused the animal to coil itself tightly around her neck.

  The Bench dismissed the case, and ordered each of the ladies to pay her own costs.

  The Midland Daily Telegraph, Coventry, March 12, 1892

  Extraordinary Affair

  One of the most extraordinary and revolting circumstances has just come to light at a place called Pheasant Hill, two miles from Castlebar.

  It seems that a pensioner named Egar and his wife resided for some years past in a lonesome part of the above locality, and the fact of the husband not having made his appearance out of doors for a few weeks caused several inquiries to be made as to his whereabouts.

  To each inquiry the wife replied that he was ill and confined to bed, so that he could not be seen.

  On Saturday evening, however, one of the neighbours suspecting that all was not right, went to the house, and was told as usual by the wife that her husband was asleep and could not be disturbed. The man, however, insisted on seeing him asleep or awake.

  Observing the perseverance and the determination of this man to see her husband, the wife confessed that her husband was dead, and, on going to his room, a frightful spectacle presented itself.

  Lying on the floor, covered with mud and ‘scraws’ was the body of the man, in such a state of decomposition as to make it appear he had been dead for at least three weeks.

  The police were at once communicated with, and have now charge of the body pending a coroner’s inquiry. The reason assigned for this strange conduct on the part of the woman is, that the quarter’s pension of her husband would come due on Monday, and by concealing the death of her husband she might succeed in defrauding the authorities by receiving the amount of his pension.

  The Wrexham Advertiser, July 16, 1864

  Remarkable Story

  A remarkable instance of a dream coming true is reported from St Louis. A woman named Mary Thornton has been detained in custody for a month, charged with the murder of her husband.

  She requested to see one of the judges a week ago, and told him that she had dreamed that a man named George Ray murdered her husband, and at the same time gave the Judge full details of the tragedy as seen in her vision.

  Ray was not then suspected, but the judge caused a search to be made for him. The man was found on Thursday and charged with the murder, the details, as the woman had given them, being recited to him. Ray was astonished and confessed. The woman was released.

  The Worcestershire Chronicle, August 26, 1899

  Extraordinary Scene in a Police Court

  The utmost consternation was caused among the prisoners at the Birmingham Police Court, on Wednesday morning, by the sudden appearance of a bear in their midst.

  Bruin made his entrance from the cells below, and as he thrust his head above the stairs one of the occupants of the dock made a desperate effort to leap over the front in his fright.

  For the moment the whole court was surprised at the unusual visitant, but the astonishment gave place to roars of laughter when Bruin’s presence was explained.

  It appeared that some zealous constable found the animal that morning performing under the direction of two Frenchmen, and at once took all three into custody.

  The dockkeeper, being ignorant of the remarkable capture, stood dumbfounded as the ungainly brute made its startling entry into the court, and while its owners retreated to the back of the court the animal reared itself above the railings of the dock, exhibiting a formidable f
ront to the magistrates, and causing a general scramble from its vicinity.

  The policeman charged the Frenchmen with causing an obstruction in the streets, but the magistrates laughed at the complaint, and discharged the remarkable ‘trio’ on the men promising to leave the town.

  As they left the court the bear was made to descend the staircase on its hind legs amid roars of laughter from the spectators.

  The Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser, April 29, 1882

  A Thief Detected by a Parrot

  A thief was detected in a singular manner in Gloucester on Tuesday. Mrs Fisher, flour-dealer, of Northgate Street, while in the parlour adjoining her shop, was startled by a parrot which she keeps in her shop loudly calling ‘Shop, Fisher, shop,’ and hastened to see what was the matter.

  Not perceiving any person there, however, she was about to return again to the parlour, when the parrot again commenced screaming and repeating its former words. Mrs Fisher thereupon conceiving that there must be some cause for the extraordinary cries of the bird, walked round the shop, and on the inside of the counter, close to the till, she discovered a little urchin, about eight years old, crouching down to escape notice.

  He had opened the till, and had 4½d in coppers in his hands, which he had stolen from it.

  The Cornwall Royal Gazette, June 16, 1848

  Burglar Caught by a Skeleton

  A burglar in Greensburg, Pennsylvania, was recently caught in a remarkable manner. Breaking into a closed and unoccupied office of a physician of that town, the burglar opened a closet (while his companion with a dark lantern was in another part of the room), and, feeling for clothing at about the height of closet hooks generally, got his hands between the jaws of a skeleton, which being adjusted with a coil spring and kept open with a thread, closed suddenly on the intruding hand by the breaking of the thread.

  A sudden thought striking the burglar of his being caught by a skeleton in the doctor’s closet, so terrified him that he uttered a faint shriek, and when his companion turned the lantern toward him and he beheld himself in the grim and ghastly jaws of Death himself, he became so overpowered by fear that he fainted, fell insensible to the floor, pulling the skeleton down upon him, and making so much noise that his companion fled immediately, and the doctor, alarmed at the noise and confusion, hastened into the office and secured the terror-stricken burglar still held by the skeleton.

  The Dundee Courier and Argus, February 26, 1874

  An Elephant in the Witness-Box

  A young elephant was introduced into the Court of Exchequer, London, on Friday week, as a witness in an action for damages against Messrs. Bertram and Roberts.

  The plaintiff, Miss Thurman, was standing up in an open carriage at the Alexandra Palace when the appearance of this elephant frightened the horse, and the plaintiff, being thrown out, had her collar-bone broken.

  Counsel declined to put any question to this novel witness, which, meanwhile, amused itself by seizing the hats upon the table with its trunk. Ultimately the case was arranged.

  The Grantham Journal, July 26, 1879

  Villa Half-Back Charged with Drunkenness.

  The Case Dismissed

  Before the Aston Magistrates on Monday, James Cowan, the well-known Aston Villa centre half-back was charged with being drunk on his own premises, the Grand Turk, New Street.

  Cowan called a number of witnesses, who declared that so far from being drunk he was able to take a leading part in all intellectual discussion on the Transvaal crisis, the Dreyfus case, and the beauties of Dutch scenery. The proceedings, which lasted two hours, ended in the summons being dismissed.

  The Citizen, Gloucester, September 26, 1899

  Murderer’s Ghastly Mistake.

  His Son Changes Beds with his Enemy

  An extraordinary story is reported from Tarnopol, in Galicia. A peasant named Adam Gawrydo, whose property is in a small village near Zbaraz, in Galicia, cut his own son’s throat with a kitchen knife by mistake.

  Some weeks ago a Jewish merchant, Solomon Barb, bought old Gawrydo’s stock of honey, and paid 50 florins in advance, to make the bargain valid.

  When the time for delivering the honey came, the peasant declared that he could not keep his word, and was prepared to pay any damages to the merchant that the Rabbi might decide.

  Yesterday they both went to the Rabbi, who said the peasant must pay the merchant ten florins damages. This he did most willingly, and then both went away together.

  On the way home they stopped at a wayside inn, and did not leave it till night. It began to rain, and the peasant asked the merchant to pass the night in his house. The merchant accepted, and they went home together.

  The peasant prepared a bed of straw in the barn, and when the merchant had laid down went to his own room after carefully locking the barn door.

  This frightened the merchant so much that he got up, felt his way about until he found a second door, which was bolted from the inside, left the barn, and started to walk back to the inn.

  In the meantime the son of the peasant returned home half drunk and finding the barn door open walked in and dropped on to the bed of straw prepared for the stranger. He was soon fast asleep. The merchant on his way to the inn met a gendarme, who asked him where he was going so late. Barb told him all that had happened, and the gendarme, thinking he had a dangerous man before him who was lying to avoid suspicion asked him to go with him to the peasant’s house.

  There they found Gawrydo in the act of washing his hands, which were stained with blood. When he saw them he exclaimed, ‘Surely I killed you an instant ago.’

  The gendarme searched the house, and in the barn found the son of the peasant dead with his throat cut. The peasant was immediately arrested.

  The North-Eastern Daily Gazette, Middlesbrough, July 12, 1894

  Extraordinary Case of Attempted Suicide

  On Saturday last Mr Sly, landlord of the William the Fourth, Flagon Row, Deptford, discovered that he had been robbed of certain monies, &c., and mentioned the facts to his family and servants. Amongst the latter is a young woman, named Mary Ann Wiggins, who, on hearing the circumstances, became greatly excited and went away.

  Shortly afterwards a customer to the house went to the water-closet and found the door fastened within. After waiting a short time the door was forced open, and a noise was distinctly heard of some person struggling in the night soil. On examining the spot the poor creature was discovered immersed over head, scarcely a vestige of her person or dress being discernible.

  Less than half a minute’s delay and suffocation would have been complete. Assistance was immediately afforded, and with much difficulty she was drawn out of her awful predicament by means of an iron rake which was placed under her arm-pits. This, however, was not effected without bruising and lacerating her person. Mr Downie, who saved the woman’s life, says her head was completely under the soil, and it appeared that when he had drawn her partly out she struggled hard to effect her purpose.

  Mr Downing, police surgeon, who attended her, states that it was with much time and difficulty that suspended animation could be restored, and that her person was much bruised in getting through the seat of the closet. The place where she was discovered is at least ten feet deep.

  On getting out she was stripped by two women in the back yard, and with a large tub of hot water and abundance of soft soap and brushes she was ultimately brought round. Her mouth, nose, and eyes were filled with the night soil, and but for the means so promptly afforded by the surgeon and others her life must have been sacrificed.

  After bathing her for a couple of hours by the kitchen fire she was removed to the infirmary of the Greenwich union until convalescent, when she will be taken before the sitting magistrate.

  The Northern Star and National Trades’ Journal, London, May 10, 1845

  A Naked and Unwelcome Guest

  When Charles Warren and his wife, who live at Stepney, got home on Tuesday morning from a party the
y were surprised to find a naked young man curled up asleep in a perambulator.

  The kitchen was in great disorder, and when awakened and asked how he got in, the unwelcome guest replied ‘Through the door.’

  He was summoned to appear at the Thames Police Court, and a constable said he found one of the windows of the prosecutor’s house unfastened. The prisoner’s hat was found in one place and his trousers in another. His coat could not be found.

  The prisoner, who appeared in a dazed condition, gave a correct address, which was a short distance from the prosecutor’s house. The magistrate said there was no evidence that the prisoner intended to steal, and he therefore would be discharged, but he had better be careful for the future.

  The Citizen, Gloucester, December 28, 1892

  Bound in his Own Skin

  Through the courtesy of the librarian of Trinity College, Cambridge, I was enabled (says a correspondent) to examine a portion of human skin which was taken from the body of Corder, the murderer of Maria Martin, in the Red Barn, near Bury St Edmunds.

  The doctor who dissected the man after the sentence of death had been carried out, knowing that a ‘Life of Corder’ was about to be written, sent the author a piece of the murderer’s skin, properly tanned and prepared.

  In this a copy of the book was subsequently bound and presented to the library. This is a remarkable instance of a man’s biography being bound in his own skin.

  Supplement to the Hampshire Telegraph and Sussex Chronicle, December 9, 1893

  Singular Trial at Madrid