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

by Clay, Jeremy

  Unfortunately, his aim was bad for he missed the villain and shot the heroine through the shoulder. There was considerable excitement in the theatre, and the play was stopped. The young lady is seriously, but not dangerously, wounded.

  The Shields Daily Gazette and Shipping Telegraph, October 9, 1897

  Shocking Affair in a Ball Room

  A shocking scene occurred at a ball at Thurmaston, near Leicester, on Wednesday night, given by a gentleman of that village to a party of friends.

  It seems that the ball had not long begun when the dress of one of the ladies caught fire through being brought into too close contact with the firegrate.

  Becoming terrified by her situation she rushed about the room, and ignited the dresses of three other ladies, which, being of such light material, were speedily in a blaze.

  Mr Jacques, house-surgeon of the Leicester Infirmary, who happened to be one of the party, aided with others, extinguished the flames as quickly as possible but not before the ladies had been considerably burnt – two of them seriously so. Their injuries were at once attended to, but they are not yet pronounced out of danger.

  The scene in the ball-room may be more readily imagined than described. It is hardly necessary to add that the occurrence of such a catastrophe had the effect of bringing the evening’s entertainment to an abrupt termination.

  The Western Daily Press, Bristol, January 21, 1867

  An Extraordinary Occurrence

  An extraordinary occurrence took place late on Thursday week on the Great Western Railway.

  One of the travellers by the down train, which leaves the Bath station at 20 minutes past ten, was Mr Charles Shaw, who has been performing in the pantomime at the Theatres, Bath and Bristol.

  It is believed that he was not tipsy, and it is said that he is a steady, sober man; but he must have been seized with some delirium, for the train had got to within three or four miles of Bristol, when he made a sudden leap through the window of the carriage in which he was riding, and disappeared from his alarmed fellow-passengers.

  Of course the train could not be stopped, but upon its arrival at the Bristol station, the officials immediately sent back an engine to ascertain the fate of the man. He was found on the siding, alive, and without having sustained any fracture, but suffering from many contusions and from concussion of his brain. He was at once brought into Bristol and conveyed to the infirmary, where he now lies.

  It is a remarkable fact, that in one of the scenes in the pantomime in which he has been playing, the clown, pantaloon, and sprite have to jump through the window of a Great Western Railway train while in motion, and that the scene is then immediately changed to the Bristol Royal Infirmary. It is not improbable that these circumstances might have had some influence on a diseased mind.

  The Leeds Intelligencer, February 18, 1854

  Lilliputian Exhibition of Tiger Taming

  From Paris the other day came a story, half-grotesque and half-revolting, of a cruelly ingenious showman to whom there had occurred the idea of getting up a Lilliputian exhibition of tiger-taming.

  He procured four cats, whose bodies he painted orange-tawny, with black stripes, so as to be closely imitative of the hide of felis tigris, and then he engaged a little boy, who clad in tights and spangles, was to enact the part of a beast tamer, but who, prior to his appearance in public, was shut up in a cage with the cats and instructed to reduce them to subjection and to teach them a variety of tricks by means of rigorous chastisement.

  If, however, the poor little tiger king was provided with a switch, the four Lilliputian tigers had been endowed by nature with a due complement of claws; and they so worried and tore the unfortunate lad that, had he not been able to make his escape from the cage, fatal results might have followed.

  He ran shrieking into the street, pursued by his master; but the police interfered, and the Correctional Tribunal may possibly have something very serious to say to the barbarous promoter of Lilliputian tiger-taming exhibitions.

  The Illustrated Police News, January 29, 1876

  Rival Bands

  A serious riot occurred on Sunday in Cork. The disturbance originated in a difference between two bands belonging to the north part of the city. The Blackpool Band accused the Fair Lane Band of receiving money, which they did not divide fairly, and, attacking them, broke their musical instruments.

  The members of the latter and their friends took reprisals on Saturday night by attacking the quarter of the rival band and wrecking their houses. On Sunday the riot was resumed with greater vigour. One party gave battle to the other in the street, and for over an hour a fierce conflict raged with stones and other missiles. The whole available police force of the city was summoned to the scene, and the rioters were not dispersed before 11 o’clock. The casualties during the two nights were 40 scalp wounds, including four fractures of the skull. Among the seriously wounded was a policeman named Rooney.

  The Western Daily Press, Bristol, May 6, 1879

  Pelted with Cabbage.

  Scene in a Paris Theatre

  An extraordinary scene took place at the Opera Comique, Paris, during the production of M. Saint-Saens’ opera ‘Phryne.’

  The title role was given by Mlle. Jeanne Hading, who when she made her appearance on the stage was received with an outburst of hissing and hooting by several persons in the stalls and boxes.

  One of these was occupied by a lady, who evidently came provided for the occasion, as she immediately began to throw cabbages, potatoes, and similar missiles at the actress. It is said that Mlle. Hading had captivated the lady’s husband, and that, owing to the relations between them, she therefore took this opportunity of revenging herself.

  The Midland Daily Telegraph, Coventry, February 24, 1894

  Sarah Bernhardt’s Leg

  Madame Sarah Bernhardt has had a gruesome and startling offer from an American showman. A Paris correspondent says that when she was seriously laid up with a bad leg there was a report that amputation might be found necessary.

  This piece of news was promptly cabled to the United States, and the notion at once occurred to a showman to buy, embalm, and exhibit the limb in the event of its being amputated. A large sum was offered, with a share in the profits of the exhibition.

  The Citizen, Gloucester, June 16, 1890

  A Human Monkey.

  Curious Story of a Child’s Life

  A reporter made enquiries on Tuesday at the offices of the Salvation Army with regard to a report in an American paper, stating that a girl, who was found in a Kentish hop-field dressed in the skin of a monkey, had arrived in New York with a Salvation Army officer.

  According to the Salvation Army officers the parents of the child are unknown, but when about two years of age she was stolen by an itinerant minstrel who travelled about all parts of the country. This man, it seems, procured an old skin of a monkey and stuck it on the child, to whom he administered repeated doses of gin, so as to stop her growth. The gin produced this effect, and even now the girl is little bigger than a midget.

  In the course of time the skin came to fit the child like a glove. The face and hands only were exposed, and these, never being cleansed, soon became grimy. In this condition it is evident the child remained for over a year before her identity was discovered by Miss Swift, one of the Salvation Army slum officers.

  The child was taken by the minstrel all over the country. She was dressed in the usual red coat, and carried a shell, with which she had been taught to beg for alms. She was never washed, and in order that the deception might be maintained her head had been shaved. Her nails grew long, and her hands and feet were so emaciated and dirty that it is marvellous how the discovery of her identity was made at all.

  Miss Swift states that in winter the child travelled with a company, made up of men chiefly, who played a sort of pantomime. There were various odd characters in the piece, but the only ones she remembers were the devil and the monkey. The trained monkey was the star performer. She c
ould climb up on a table, going up one of the legs, with as much agility as any real monkey.

  The Western Gazette, Yeovil, January 15, 1897

  A Perilous Balloon Trip

  Three aeronauts, Mlle. Lena Dare, Signor Spelterini, and an assistant, made a perilous ascent from the Clarendonia Grounds, at Leicester, on Saturday evening.

  A strong wind prevailed, rocking the balloon very violently. Spelterini and his assistant were in the car, but the lady hung on by her teeth to a trapeze under the car.

  The balloon shot away rapidly, swaying the lady most violently backwards and forwards as she was carried rapidly over the town. She, however, stuck to her performance on the trapeze until she disappeared from sight.

  The balloon travelled rapidly eastwards, and, owing to the late ascent, darkness was coming on before the aeronauts could descend. An effort was made to alight near Great Dalby, but the grappling-iron failed to hold, and the strong wind carried the balloon bumping along over fields and through hedges for two miles.

  To avoid contact with the buildings the balloon had to be lightened to enable it to reascend. At the next descent the grappling-iron held fast, and the party safely alighted. All three were very much shaken and bruised, but otherwise they were uninjured.

  The Citizen, Gloucester, September 3, 1888

  A ‘Strong Man’ as a Lodger

  On Wednesday in the Westminster County Court, the case of Brackenbury v. Sandow came before Judge Bayley. The plaintiff claimed £4 12s. 6d., for damage done to the ceiling and furniture at 6, Rupert Street, London, by the defendant, known as ‘the Strong Man.’

  Mr T. Mann, in opening the case, said the defendant (who did not appear) rented some rooms at the plaintiff’s house, and after a little time he commenced to practise some feats of strength in the rooms with dumb-bells and heavy weights, with the results that the ceiling of the room below came down.

  He stopped practising with the weights, but commenced to use a pistol, with the result that he damaged the wall paper and fired through a picture frame. He also dropped one of the dumb bells on a cabinet, knocking the corner off. Plaintiff gave evidence in support of this statement, and, in answer to his Honour as to what objection he had to dumb-bells, the plaintiff said, ‘One of them weighed 320lbs, sir.’ His Honour gave judgement for the plaintiff for the amount claimed, with costs.

  The Huddersfield Daily Chronicle, November 13, 1890

  Uproar in a Paris Theatre

  A Paris correspondent telegraphs: A great uproar was caused in the Theatre des Menus Plaisirs on Saturday night. During the performance of what is called a ‘revue,’ in which the vendors of lying news-sheets were satirised, the audience heartily applauded a scene where a fellow crying out the adventures of a colonel is taken to task by another actor who sings a couplet praising the military.

  In the midst of the applause a loud hiss was heard. It proceeded from the front orchestra stalls, where a young man of respectable appearance was seated.

  He was remonstrated with by those about him, but, nothing daunted, he continued his hissing, and as the imaginary newsvendor broke away from the grasp of the singer, calling him opprobrious names, the young man stood up and applauded with energy. He was immediately set upon by the persons near him, and was thrashed within an inch of his life.

  When rescued by the men of the Guard, his face was covered with blood and bruises, and his clothes were torn to tatters. During the entr’acts, a crowd of the persons attending the theatre tried to get the man out of the police-office. They evidently wanted to kill him for having defended the news-boys in the teeth of the whole house.

  The Manchester Evening News, March 8, 1886

  A Singular Incident

  A melancholy fracas has occurred at Indianapolis owing to an actor being bitten by a dog.

  It seems that there is an actor there of such exquisite proportions that he is known as the Apollo Belvedere. He was walking in the streets the other day and exciting universal admiration by the magnificent proportions of his limbs, when he accidentally stepped on the tail of a terrier dog who happened to come across his path.

  The enraged animal immediately turned and bit the actor severely in the calf of the leg. The wounded man, however, stalked on apparently unconscious of the injury he had received until a bystander called his attention to the circumstance.

  He immediately stopped, and the utmost sympathy was felt for him and expressed by the spectators until to their amazement and horror they saw flowing from the wound – not a drop of blood – but a thin stream of sawdust.

  The incident naturally caused a painful sensation in the city, and was mentioned with kindly regret by one of the local papers. This annoyed the actor excessively, and announcing his intention to chastise the editor he proceeded to the office of that gentleman to carry out his intention; but the muscles of his arms proved as little formidable as the calves of his legs, and after a short and sharp struggle he was ignominiously kicked by the editor out of his room.

  Altogether he has sadly fallen in the estimation of the public, and it is understood he contemplates retirement from the stage – at all events for a time.

  The Manchester Evening News, June 12, 1873

  An Editor Horsewhipped by Chorus Girls

  According to a report in the South Australian Register there was an exciting scene in a New Zealand newspaper office recently.

  It appears that in consequence of strictures on the characters of members of the Gaiety Theatrical Company, published in the Workman, of Dunedin, several members of the company went to the office, and, failing to get a satisfactory explanation from the editor, five chorus girls thrashed him and the printers with horsewhips.

  The party were ultimately ejected, but they broke the doors and windows, forced their way inside again, and wrecked the premises.

  An actor was struck a severe blow on the right eye during the melee in the street. On the following day some members of the company were brought up at the police court, but the charge was withdrawn.

  The Edinburgh Evening News, July 11, 1893

  The ‘Manard Coat’ Demonstrations

  Shooting Accident at the Canterbury Music Hall

  Miss Julie Manard, the wearer of the Manard bullet-proof coat, was struck in the neck by a bullet while being shot at on Saturday evening at the Canterbury Music Hall. She was removed to St Thomas’s Hospital, where she is progressing favourably.

  In an interview with a press representative the marksman can only attribute the accident to the deflection of the rifle before the bullet cleared the barrel.

  It is stated by a news agency that the London County Council is about to take steps for the prevention of the public exhibitions of the bullet-proof coat, on the grounds of the great risk attaching to such exhibitions.

  The Pall Mall Gazette, May 28, 1894

  Fearful Riot in Leicester.

  Coxwell’s Balloon Burnt.

  On Monday, at the Foresters’ Fete, at Leicester, the populace burnt Coxwell’s balloon, ‘Britannia,’ in which the aeronaut had proposed to make an ascent, and they would, in all probability also have killed himself had he not been escorted off the ground by a strong body of police.

  It was announced that the balloon ascent would take place at half-past five o’clock, and as the hour approached there was a great rush to see the air-ship, which was then in process of being inflated.

  The police were unable to keep back the ‘roughs,’ and a series of rows was the result, in which serious wounds were inflicted on both sides. One of the policemen, by a blow of a stake on the forehead, knocked down a woman, who lay on the ground bleeding profusely.

  This, we trust, accidental outrage, infuriated the mob, who instantly made a most determined attack on the constables. The scene of riot and confusion was indescribable; and eventually the constabulary were beaten back.

  Mr Coxwell was seated in the car of the balloon with thirteen gentlemen, who were desirous to make the ascent along with him. He repeatedly as
sured the crowd that if they did not desist from violence he would not make the ascent at all. But the mob was too infuriated to listen to any appeals, and Mr Coxwell ultimately pulled the valve rope and allowed all the gas to escape.

  The passions of the mob were raised to the highest pitch by this proceeding. They instantly levelled all the barriers, broke into the reserved space, and the cry having been raised to burn the balloon there were plenty of incendiaries to answer to the appeal.

  Mr Coxwell was escorted off the ground by a body of police, leaving his balloon a prey to the victorious mob. They gathered rapidly around, cutting the oiled calico, of which the body of the balloon was formed, into shreds; and having taken away as many trophies as they pleased, set fire to the remainder. In the process of cutting up the balloon, several of the rioters sustained severe wounds on the hands and fingers.

  After the work of destruction was completed the rioters paraded the town in triumph, and Mr Coxwell, to escape the torrent of popular fury, left Leicester by the first available train.

  Several accidents occurred on the London Road, which leads to the Race Course, owing to furious driving; and on the whole, Leicester witnessed a series of riots and disorderly tumult, rarely experienced.

  The Nottinghamshire Guardian, July 15, 1864

  A Wonderful Parrot

  Mrs Mackay, the ‘Bonanza Queen,’ has, writes a London correspondent, provided during her absence the public of London with a gratuitous entertainment of a most diverting nature.