Military Crime in Britain in the 19th Century

Some young men found it difficult to surrender to the stringent discipline of military life. The consequences could be disastrous, both for the perpetrators of crime and for their unfortunate victims, while the executioner pursued what he did best with unswerving dedication. However, just occasionally, with a little cunning and guile, a wrongdoer might actually get away with it. 

Crazy with Jealousy

A sergeant, Patrick Feeney, had a fancy for a young private's pretty wife - at least, that's what the private believed. Crazy with jealousy, Private Benjamin Gardiner of the 50th Regiment went looking for Sergeant Feeney and shot him dead. In July 1834, Private Gardiner was hanged on Chatham Lines for the sergeant's murder. His execution was meant as a warning to his comrades, but during the proceedings, a storm blew up and it became very dark. People thought this was the wrath of God and many of them ran away to hide from God's anger.

Mad with Greed

On 10 August 1830, according to the Medway News, John McAlister was indicted with assaulting William Rogers, a soldier at Chatham. McAlister stole from Rogers a watch and two sovereigns. William Rogers was on his way home to his quarters at Fort Pitt about 10.00pm. McAlister and another soldier approached him, saying, "How d'ya do, comrade" and immediately knocked him down, kneeling on him as he lay helpless on the ground. McAlister then rifled the pockets of his victim, tearing his trousers as he removed the watch. Rogers yelled, "Murder!" and the guard heard and came to his assistance. McAlister ran off, but he was chased and captured with the stolen articles in his possession. He was found guilty but the paper made no mention of his punishment.

Desperate for Freedom

During Nelson's time in the 1800s, a sentry with a peg-leg and crutch was on his way through the oldest part of the Naval Barracks at Chatham, known as Cumberland Block. His destination was Room No. 34, where the next man on the duty roster was still sleeping. The sentry was desperate for a break himself and meant to waken the oversleeping sentry, but before he reached Room No. 34, the sentry was set about by a crowd of prisoners who were intent on escaping. Without a second thought, the mob bludgeoned the sentry to death. During and since the 1940s, several people have claimed to see and hear the sentry's ghost, limping and tapping through old Cumberland Block.

The Dashing Deserter

According to the Kentish Independent dated Saturday 13 January 1900, a young sapper of the Royal Engineers deserted from the Corps at Chatham. He tried to enlist in a regiment of Hussars intending to go to war, but his military appearance alerted the authorities, especially when his account of himself seemed so evasive. Immediately, he was placed under arrest, pending a court martial at Chatham on the following Thursday. However, while being escorted across the parade ground on the Wednesday afternoon, he managed to escape, taking the corporal in charge by surprise. So the dashing deserter got away.

Fuelled by Anger

In August 1865, a soldier shot dead an officer on the parade ground at Bromton Barracks in Gillingham. The officer was Major Francis Horatio de Vere, a veteran of the Crimea, and his murderer was Sapper John Currie, who showed no remorse for his action towards his superior. It happened on 11 August when the nineteen-year-old sapper fired, just as the 400 men were standing to attention. Lieutenant Arthur Durnford rushed to help the fallen major, who was gasping, "Oh, my God!" It was Lieutenant Durnford who later entered the barracks and discovered Currie alone in his cell, which reeked of gunpowder. Currie calmly admitted his guilt.

At first, it was feared that the wound to the major was fatal. Later, the surgeons felt that the victim would live, but they were wrong, and within a week, Major de Vere had died. At his trial at the Central Criminal Court, the unsavoury facts emerged. John Currie simply never got it right, while Major de Vere was among the most stringent officers of the Royal Engineers, demanding no less than the best from those under his command.

The crunch came when Currie took a cut in pay for a misdeameanour that had taken place a few months previously. Currie's laziness continued, perhaps more out of grievance than for any other reason, and he ended up in the guard house, then later his commanding officer had him shut in his cell for six days. John Currie decided he was being picked on, so he loaded up his rifle and shot the major from the window, over the heads of the assembled officers.

The defence claimed that John Currie, driven out of his mind by the alleged grievances, had been insane when he had committed the murder. However, the plea was rejected by the judge, Mr. Justice Sheet, who sentenced John Currie to death. Later, it was claimed by a minister that John Currie had expressed remorse for killing the major and he was well-supported by his family. Comforted by the Presbyterian minister, Mr. John Greener, John Currie asked for a prayer to be said as he was prepared for death. On the fateful day, as the hangman placed the noose around his neck, he waited for around five minutes for the duration of the prayer.

Once the drop fell, Currie took a couple of minutes to die, as was usual with those who suffered at the hands of the dreaded executioner William Calcraft.

Sources:

Newspapers as stated in text.

Murder and Crime Medway, Tempus Publishing, 2008.

The Revenge Bombing of Canterbury

Cover of Canterbury Streets by Janet Cameron
Published by Tempus Publishing

It's hard to believe that the area occupied by one of England's most beautiful cities was once a swampy wasteland. That is, until our prehistoric ancestors began learning to use tools. Now Canterbury's vibrant mix of old and new, coexisting in harmony, earns it a unique place in England's history.

The "Blitz" Raids

A watershed in the history of Canterbury was the Blitz, particularly the raids of 1942 which destroyed many beautiful buildings, from private homes to fine, historical treasures. The Baedeker raids against England's town and cities were in reprisal for RAF night attacks against German cities. The raid on 1 June 1942, was meant to avenge the bombing of Cologne on 30 May. It is estimated that one fifth of Canterbury was devastated that night during an attack that lasted 2hrs 30mins.

Fortunately, the city's greatest treasures, like the Cathedral, survived, thanks to vigilant fire-watchers. This stunning, Gothic masterpiece was originally built and consecrated in 1070 and its last major alterations were in 1834. It is the seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, symbolic head of the Anglican Church.

War Heroes

The War Memorial stands in the Buttermarket. One of the names inscribed is that of Philip Thornton, who once lived with his family in Stone Street. Philip Thornton volunteered as a soldier, joining the Buffs, which is the Royal East Kent Regiment. In 1941, Philip left from Canterbury East Station for his posting in India, and then went off to fight in the Battle for Burma.  He was killed at Donbaik in 1943.

An Angel Sang that Night

Philip loved music and had often sung at carol concerts, giving performances which prompted one old man to say: "I thought I heard the angels sing last night." After his death, his parents received a letter from complete strangers in India, where he had been trained for a year. It said: "As long as Christmas has its carols, we shall remember your son."

A Spectacular View of the "Blitz"

The University of Kent at Canterbury stands on a site once occupied by Brotherhood and Beverley farms. From this site, high up, many people watched, fascinated by the spectacular flares and brilliant cascades of lights illuminating Canterbury on the night of the 1942 raid. One account records that one hundred people watched the terrible destruction including the toppling of church steeples. It seems bizarre to describe the destruction of war as anything but horrific, yet people reflecting on the sight said it was "beautiful."

An Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty

Canterbury is a fine city, buzzing with activity and is located close to many areas of outstanding natural beauty, easily accessible by bus or train. It is a blessing that its indomitable spirit during the Second World War raids helped protect its most precious treasure, the great Canterbury Cathedral - or, by its full and proper name - Cathedral and Metropolitan Church of Christ at Canterbury.

Sources:

Stephen Bax

Doris Conroy

Peggy Poole

Other Reading:


The Rear-Guard, war poem by Siefried Sassoon

Murder by Poison on the Canterbury to Whitstable Railway

Historic Railway Station, Copyright Janet Cameron

The Canterbury to Whitstable Railway first opened in 1834, allowing Canterbury people to enjoy a cheap day out with the family at the seaside. Whitstable, a quaint fishing village on the Kent coast, was, and still is, famous for its variety of sea-fish and shellfish, and so the railway line became known as The Crab and Winkle line. Originally, goods were transported along the River Stour to Pegwell Bay, near Ramsgate, involving a seventy-mile meandering journey. The delightful coastal town of Whitstable was a mere seven miles north of Canterbury.

The building of the railway line was immensely popular with the hard-working people of Canterbury.

Workmen on the Line are Poisoned

The tragedy occurred in 1909 at Tyler Hill when a group of men working on the Whitstable Railway Line were poisoned. The men were waiting for the key at the level crossing, but one man, Setterfield, discovered a beer bottle. All the men drank some of the beer from the bottle, but all remarked it tasted rather bitter.

When they returned to work, a man called Jordan complained that he was feeling ill. The other workmen were alarmed when Jordan suddenly collapsed, and then, in about twenty minutes, he was dead. Jordan left a widow, Beatrice, and four children. The other men felt ill but eventually, they recovered.

Death by Strychnine

It was presumed that the bottle had been deliberately left close to the level crossing, with the intention of poisoning the gateman, Noble. By the date of the resumption of the inquest, Monday 12 June, no further progress had been made in identifying the murderer, in spite of checks on chemists supplying strychnine. This deadly poison was often mixed with beer to fool animals that were to be poisoned and so it was easily available.

The identity of the culprit was never discovered, and an open verdict on this terrible act was recorded.

The World's First Locomotive Passenger Railway

Today, the Canterbury to Whitstable Railway has disappeared, having been closed down after the Second World War. The footpath that replaces it still shows traces of the past. You can take this path for an easy walk through the idyllic countryside surrounding the city of Canterbury. It's just a few miles to the equally idyllic seaside resort of Whitstable and a delightful fish and chip dinner. An ideal opportunity to enjoy a healthy day out at the seaside, just as Canterbury people have always done.

Sources:

Canterbury Library Local Studies Collection, Canterbury.

Canterbury Streets, Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing, 2004.

Rebel Jack Cade's Head Cut Off and Spiked on London Bridge

Traitors' head spiked on London Bridge
Public Domain

Jack Cade was, allegedly, of Irish origin, although he grew up in Sussex. It's claimed he was originally named Mortimer, but he murdered a woman in 1449. He fled to France, adopted the name "Cade" and returned to England. Cade became famous for leading a revolt in Kent in 1450. Few people would argue that the revolt was anything but just and necessary.

Jack Cade's behaviour, however, was disgraceful. The unrest that had been fermenting for some time erupted in earnest in the springtime of 1450, when the poverty-stricken peasants began to mutter against the corrupt and weak leadership of the King, and the unfair taxes levied upon them. Jack Cade produced a manifesto entitled: "The Complaint of the Poor Commons of Kent." This was an inventory of grievances against the unpopular government and it named MPs and lords.

In June, 20,000 rebels appeared at Blackheath, including not only peasants but shopkeepers and artisans, as well as the upper-classes. There were soldiers and sailors who had returned from France via the county. Intimidated, King Henry VI took off for safety in Warwickshire. The rebels advanced on Southwark, where they settled themselves in the White Hart Inn.

Jack Cade's rebels fight on London Bridge

On 3 July, the rebel band crossed London Bridge. At this point, Cade got carried away, and, brandishing his sword, he declared himself Lord Mayor of London. He led his followers to the Guildhall, then on to the Tower, with his demands. The mob captured the Lord Treasurer and speedily beheaded him, and then they set about decapitating other favourites of the King. Duly spiked, in medieval fashion, the heads were then raised in the air and placed together, nose-to-nose, as though they were kissing. As if this wasn't enough, Cade and his men started looting, an action contrary to his original promise when he began his march.

By the time they returned to Southwark, preparations had been made to prevent the bloodthirsty rebels from entering the city, and, around 10.00pm, a fight erupted on London Bridge, which continued until the following morning. The rebels suffered severe casualties and had to retreat. Finally, in response to the Archbishop, John Kemp, Cade agreed to calm his men in return for pardons and the fulfilment of his demands.

Jack Cade branded a traitor

Archbishop Kemp did not follow through. The following week, Jack Cade was to discover a most unpleasant truth: the government now considered him to be a traitor and a reward was offered for him, dead or alive. Cade died in a fight near Heathfield, East Sussex, on 12 July 1450 and his body was taken to London and quartered, the pieces being sent to different cities for display. His head stayed on a spike on London Bridge, along with those of his cohorts. The rebels themselves were pardoned, although after Cade's death, thirty-four more were executed.

This is a tragic story, since the cause was just and the men were brave - if only it hadn't all gone, both literally and metaphorically, to Jack Cade's head.

Sources:

Murder & Crime, Medway, Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing, 2008.

This Sceptred Isle, Christopher Lee, Penguin History,/BBC Books, 1997.

Further Reading:

Prison Warships of the River Medway

War and Madness - the Tribulations of Buckingham Palace's First Royal Couple

George III, painting by Allan Ramsay
Public Domain

Buckingham House was built in 1703 for the Duke of Buckingham, whose son sold it to King George III in 1762. King George (1738-1820) came to the throne on 25 October 1760, and after his purchase, the property became his new London residence, replacing the disdained St. James’ Palace. Shortly after, his Queen, the beautiful and cultivated Charlotte, moved in and Buckingham House became Buckingham Palace.

George was England’s first Hanoverian monarch and remained so for sixty years, a tumultuous reign steeped in political instability. It saw the end of the Seven Years War in 1763, the punishing taxation of the American colonies in 1765, the Boston Tea Party in 1773, swiftly followed by the American War of Independence which lasted from 1775-1783. Later in his reign came the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars, in all a period of enormous change.

King George and Princess Charlotte – a meeting of minds

Princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, a pretty girl of just eighteen, met King George on 8 September 1861, allegedly at around 3.00pm at St. James’ Palace. The young couple were immediately struck with each other and six hours later they crossed the road to the Chapel Royal and got married. Then, they actually fell in love and had fifteen children. Until the onset of George’s illness, it was a contented marriage. Their tastes were similar as they both loved the outdoors and a simple diet and the King earned the nickname, “Farmer George.”

Charlotte had a great interest in exotic animals and, in 1770 she had a pavilion built at the Botanical Gardens at Kew where guests could enjoy observing her special pets. Her prize possessions were some kangaroos from Botany Bay which she installed in a large paddock. George is said to have been faithful to Charlotte for all of his life.

Unfortunately, despite this promising start, George began to show signs of a strange illness, porphyria, suffering an attack in 1788, a few years before the outbreak of yet another war between England and France in 1793. Although we can now name this disease, it was neither named nor understood at the time. The illness is a hereditary condition due to a disease of the body’s metabolism, causing severe pain, delusions and mental confusion. Patients excrete a purple substance and the root of the word “porphyria” rests in the Greek word for the colour purple, “porphura.”

Troubled Queen Charlotte finds solace in food

George’s health deteriorated, as England struggled through the Napoleonic Wars. Charlotte, no doubt depressed and bewildered over her husband’s illness, lost her looks and her figure as she indulged in consuming enormous meals to comfort herself. She became impatient with George, and encouraged the misguided actions of his doctors. History is hard on her for this, but, of course, she had no idea why her husband was acting so strangely. Her gracious personality changed and she became increasingly demanding and unpleasant.

King George suffered further severe attacks in 1801 and 1804, then recovered for a few years, but finally relapsed into derangement in 1810/11. He was blind for the last years of his life. The tormented King was placed in the care of the Queen and a council of advisers, while the Prince of Wales became Regent of the United Kingdom and Ireland. Charlotte continued to visit her husband regularly, although he did not recognise her. Surprisingly, he outlived her; Queen Charlotte died in 1818, two years before her husband.

In 1820, after his father’s death, Farmer George’s son, George IV, commissioned architect John Nash, to improve the Palace. The work wasn’t completed until 1837. Further additions and changes were implemented by Queen Victoria and George V. The East Front, which is the part of the Palace viewed by the general public, was added between 1847 and 1853.

Sources:

The Kings & Queens of England and Scotland, Plantagenet Somerset Fry, Dorling Kindersley Limited, 1990.

This Sceptred Isle, Christopher Lee, Penguin Books/BBC Books, 1997.

History of the World, The Last Five Hundred Years, Multiple contributors, specifically unnamed, General

James Botting, Callous Executioner, Hated and Defiled by All

Botting was responsible for many agonised deaths. Photo Janet Cameron

Not far from West Street in Brighton, East Suessex, lived a man hated and defiled throughout Brighton and Hove.  At the time of our story, James Botting was aged 58 and on 1 October 1857, he fell out of his wheelchair at the corner of Codington Place and Montpelier Road.  Botting was so deeply shunned that no one would help him.  He was just left there to die, friendless and in pain. Did he deserve it?

Well, yes, actually, he did!

Botting was known as "Jemmy" and his dwelling place, just off Brighton's West Street became "Botting's Rookery" which he shared with Brighton's most disreputable beggars and vagrants. He survived on a pension of just 5s.0d. per week from the City Corporation of London.  This downturn in his fortune was, maybe, poetic justice, for Botting had been in former days Newgate's official hangman, as well as being employed by a number of other persons.  He was a vicious piece of work.  It's claimed that Botting had boasted that, with his assistant, he'd executed 175 people, men and women.  According to Newgate's records for mutliple hangings, Botting used a gantry type gallows with parallel beams above a foot-hinged platform.  Botting released this platform by a lever.  It's also claimed he allowed a drop of only a couple of feet, ensuring a slow and agonising death for his prisoners.

Botting's Most Famous Case

Botting executed James Fauntleroy, disgraced Brighton banker, in front of 100,000 people.  He also presided, in 1820, when the Cato Street Five, who'd plotted to murder senior members of the English Cabinet, were brought to justice.  Included in the five was a butcher, James Ings, who used to work in Cranbourne Street, Brighton.  After they were hanged, the five bodies were also decapitated.  Botting, however, was not permitted to carry out the second part of the sentence; instead a masked surgeon undertook the task.  They were the last legal beheadings in England.

A Teller of Stories

After Botting became paralysed and had to retire on his 5s.0d a week pension, he enjoyed telling stories about his former glory.  So when he fell, that was the end of him and Brighton breathed a great sigh of relief that it wouldn't have to hear the exploits of this unpleasant raconteur ever again.  The place of his death is where Waitrose supermarket now stands.

Botting's ghost, it's claimed, still shuffles its makeshift chair past the Half Moon pub in Boyce's Street, especially when it's dark and windy, so it's best to stay safely inside.


Adapted from Murders & Misdemeanours by Janet Cameron, published by Amberley Publishing, 2008.
Source: Brighton History Centre, Local Studies.

John (Bloody) Baker, English Bluebeard and Evil Lord of the Castle

Bloody Mary Tudor, Painting by Master John, 1544
Public Domain

Sir John Baker had a respectable career as a Tudor politician of some standing. Also, he was (maybe less respectably by today's standards) a dedicated hunter of heretics in Canterbury during the reign of Mary Tudor. He came to be known as Sir John "Bloody" Baker and for good reason. Sir John earned his reputation as the English Bluebeard several times over. (It should be noted that the French Bluebeard cut the throats of his wives.)

This ignoble Lord lived beneath the glorious towers and turrets of Sissinghurst Castle in the English county of Kent. One day, he callously murdered his current mistress because, he said, she no longer pleased him. Immediately, he became betrothed to a new, more attractive and possibly younger lady. This was the way of many Lords in those days, when young ladies were expendable like torn doublets and hose.

Bluebeard: A Shocking Encounter with a Killer

This young lady decided to meet with her lover, Sir John, and catch him unawares. Full of girlish excitement, she took her friend along with her. The two young women chanced upon Sir John near the staircase, and to their consternation, he was carrying a long, thin bundle along an upstairs hallway. What could possibly be hidden inside that bundle? Maybe it was instinct, but the young betrothed woman was scared and she grabbed her friend's hand and tried to drag her to a place to hide under the stairs.

The girls could hardly stifle their terror as a hand, already stiffened through rigor mortis,thrashed against the spindles of the bannister, becoming trapped between them. Local knowledge supports two separate accounts for what happened next. In one, Sir John hacked off the arm with his sword so that it fell into his lover's lap. The second account claims he severed the trapped finger with his dagger. Either way, it was a very bloody business.

Retribution Triumphs and Bluebeard is Put to Death

Sir John suffered from probably the most extreme case of arrogance among the upper classes in Tudor times. He wasn't even the slightest bit bothered, but strode on his way, assuming that a servant would clear up the bloody mess. But he was to suffer for his evildoing. We are not sure how he was caught, but caught he was!

Bluebeard's Ghost Haunts the Pest House

So Sir John "Bloody" Baker was arrested. He was tried and hanged. It is claimed his ghost now haunts the Pest House nearby. The Pest House was once an old plague hospital and was built in 1369. Sir John's house is claimed to be connected to the Pest House by a secret tunnel. Sometimes, this evil ghost has a female figure beside him who is thought to be one of his unfortunate victims, maybe even his betrothed - although it would be nice to think she escaped from his clutches both in life and death - and found a more gentle lover.

Haunted Kent, Janet Cameron, Amberley Publishing, 2005.

The Sinister History of the Inn near the Black Post Crossroads

The Ringlestdone, By kind permission of Jane Horder

The Ringlestone Inn is in Harrietsham in Kent, and it dates from 1533 when Henry VIII's marriage to Catherine of Aragon was annulled so he could marry Anne Boleyn. Since the pub is so old, it's unsurprising there are so many sinister occurrences. This lovely old building was once a hospice giving assistance and shelter to monks who were fleeing the dangers resulting from Henry's dissolution of the monasteries.

The Boy in the Cellar

A boy, claimed to be a previous Ringlestone landlord's son, crept out at night and stole a sheep from a farm. He wanted the sheep to feed his hungry family, but that was no excuse, as the penalty was imprisonment or deportation. Unfortunately, for him, he was found out, and so his mother and father decided to hide him. They bricked him up in a cavity in a fireplace in the cellar, and as they erected the front wall, they left one brick out so they could feed him.

It worked, and the young boy was never found by the authorities. Eventually, though, he stopped taking the food and his parents assumed he'd died. So his father replaced the last brick in the opening, and then he and his wife moved away. It's thought that one of the child presences in the pub might be the ghost of this little boy.

Child Ghost Playing Tricks

The Ringlestone Inn child ghosts are always making mischief, moving toys around, taking keys from one place and putting them somewhere else. One grandchild of a landlord found that all her favourite toys disappeared through a wall. Later, it was discovered that a door once stood at the point where the toys vanished. A subsequent finding was that a small boy had died in the upstairs living room.

An Odd Old Couple

An elderly couple haunt the corner bar. In life, they loved the pub and the roaring fire in the snug, and just can't bear to give up their visits - even in death. Many people encounter them and say how much they like them, as they are always happy to gossip and pass the time. This old couple seem absolutely normal but then - in an instant - they disappear.

Ghostly Footsteps

Ghostly footsteps stomp up the cellar steps. Then all is silent, before the clank of a boot tossed onto the floor. Strangely, this ghost only ever takes off one boot. No one knows why that is, nor do they know the identity of the owner of the ghostly footsteps.

The Highwayman

A highwayman called Elias Shephered once used the road outside the pub to lie in wait for coaches running between Faversham and Canterbury. The crossroads near the Ringlestone Inn are called the Black Post Crossroads, because many highwaymen were hanged there. People thought that criminals were in league with the Devil and, therefore, couldn't be buried in holy ground. Elias was eventually captured and hanged at Penenden Heath in 1765. People claim the Black Post Crossroads are haunted by his ghost.

The Lady with the Third Eye

In November, 2004, a customer told the pub manager that while she was sitting alone, several presences passed by and disappeared into the wall, one after another. The lady claimed she had the "third eye."

A Ghost with Issues

Ghosts, it is claimed, disapprove of modern changes to their territory. The Ringlestone Inn ghosts show their objections by banging and crashing about in the downstairs bar. Staff rush downstairs thinking a burglar has entered the building, but everything is always fine, with no sign of intrusion.

Sources:

Adapted from Haunted Kent, Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing, 2005.

With thanks to Jane Horder for additional information.

Strongbow's Wife - a Historical Novel by Frank Parker

Strongbow's Wife

By Frank Parker

Historical truth, painstakingly researched - with an exciting and insightful person story written around it - is a brilliant way of learning about history. Frank Parker has succeeded admirably in his novel Strongbow's Wife. 

"How much do you know about the act of treachery that gave rise to the centuries long conflict between Ireland and the English? A century after the Norman conquest of England, the men entrusted with suppressing the Welsh were invited to bring peace to Ireland. The result was the opposite: the commencement of a tumultuous period in the relationship between England, Wales and Ireland that began 800 years of subjugation of the Irish by the English. Little is recorded about the life of the woman who married Strongbow in return for the latter’s assistance in her father’s quest to regain the kingship of Leinster. The activities of Strongbow, and the other Cambro-Normans who took part in the occupation of Ireland in the twelfth century, have been written about extensively. Of Aoife we know only that she accompanied her father on his year long search for assistance, that, when Strongbow eventually arrived, the marriage took place days after a massacre in Waterford. This account of those events is presented through her eyes. First as a teenager trying to understand the politics behind her father's downfall. Then as a young wife caught up in the rivalry between her husband and the other leaders of the invading army. Finally, as a widowed mother worried about her children and the future of her native land. 

Praise for Strongbow's Wife: 

Thoughtful phrasing and descriptions … plenty of action but [the author] succeeds in not sacrificing plot to pace or vice versa. Author Jennifer Young on her blog, Reading, Writing, Wandering 

An interesting and thought-provoking take on a tumultuous episode in Anglo-Irish history - congratulations to the author on a job well done. Fiona Mayes at Amazon.co.uk 

[Frank Parker] joins the likes of the formidable Ian McEwan and the the great classical writer D.H. Lawrence, in telling a great story, authentically, from a female viewpoint. Janet Cameron, 5 star Amazon Review.

ISBN: 9781786109910

Type: Paperback

Pages: 248

Published: 18 May 2016

Price: £7.99

The Desirable Lady Blanche - Murdered by Mistake

The ghost of a great Lady haunts the site where she met her death - by mistake. The trouble with Lady Blanche was that too many men were in love with her.

Rochester Castle, Author Unknown

Simon de Montfort - the one who led the barons against King Henry III of England - attacked Rochester Castle on Good Friday in the year 1264.

It was a tragedy just waiting to happen. Simon de Montfort, reputed to be a great hero, was repelled by Ralph de Capo's spirited resistance. And Ralph had very good reason to fight so valiantly for the Castle.  It contained his future bride, the beautiful Lady Blanche de Warenne.  As his enemies began to retreat, Ralph de Capo, consumed with jealousy, was still spoiling for a fight and left the Castle in hot pursuit of the upstart, de Montfort.

One of the attacking soldiers was Gilbert de Clare, who had a soft spot himself for Lady Blanche although she had already rejected him in favour of Ralph. This was a preference that Gilbert found hard to accept, or even to understand. Amid the chaos, and seeing that Ralph had disappeared, Gilbert de Clare decided it might be worth trying again to convince Blanche of his suitability to be her lover.

An Arrow in Lady Blanche's Heart

Sneaking into the Castle, he soon located Lady Blanche, almost fainting on the battlements as she watched events unfolding down below. Immediately Gilbert seized Blanche in his arms and held her close, expecting her to yield to him.  Although she recoiled in disgust and thrust him away from her, it was at that moment that Ralph de Capo glanced upwards and thought he saw his enemy and his mistress in a passionate embrace.

Ralph took up his bow and fired at Gilbert de Clare. Although his aim was spot-on, the arrow glanced off de Clare's armour, veered sideways and came to rest in Lady Blanche's heart. She fell, dead, at Gilbert's feet, the arrow still quivering in her breast, and with her gorgeous gown stained with ugly blotches of dark red blood.

Lady Blanche de Warenne's ghost is claimed to haunt the Castle today, and has been seen peering over the battlements at the phantom bloody battle below.

Sources:

• Adapted from: Cameron, Janet, Medway Murder & Crime, Tempus Publishing, 2008.

• Rayner, Steven.

Richard Dadd – An Artist Tormented by Voices

Richard Dadd, pencil drawing copyright Janet Cameron

Richard Dadd painted fairies, was leader of a clique of talented artists and eventually, an insane asylum inmate. He also stabbed his father to death while gripped by insanity. He was "... tall with good and expressive features and gentlemanly demeanour," said contemporary journalist, Samuel Carter Hall.

Richard was the son of chemist, Robert Dadd, born in Bromton in Chatham in 1798. In November 1812, Robert married Mary Ann Martin and Richard was their fourth child, born in 1817. When Richard was seven, his mother died and Robert married Sophia Oakes, who gave him two more children. In 1835 Sophia died; her death following that of his birth mother must have had an effect on the boy.

Although streetwise and familiar with the rough aspects of a dockside town, the boy developed an affection for nature, especially for coastal and countryside locations. This sense of place informed his art. In 1836, the family moved to London and Richard pursued his artistic career at the Royal Academy School.

Driven to Madness by Filth and Squalor

According to biographers, Dadd's travels may have influenced his soundness of mind. He was invited to accompany Sir Thomas Phillips, solicitor, on a grand world tour in 1842. Letters to his father tell how in Venice he became indignant about the exploitative behaviour of the gondoliers. He feared chaotic, unruly crowds. Repeatedly, he complained about cheats, knaves and the inadequacies of priests, and was upset by fllth and squalor. He suffered nervous depression, was sometimes unable to draw and had sudden bizarre urges, one being to attack the Pope in Rome.

Around 1840, Dadd belonged to a group of young artists known as "The Clique" who met in Soho to discuss and debate. Included in this group were William Powell Frith, Henry O'Neil, Augustus Egg and John Philip. When Dadd arrived back in London in April, 1843, the friends observed him begin to lose his struggle between reason and madness. He harboured feelings of persecution, imagining he was being watched. Living on eggs and ale, he still managed to produce some beautiful works of art.

During the last week of August, 1843, Dadd visited Mosely & Co, Cutlers, at New Street, Covent Garden to buy a cut-throat razor and a clasp-knife. Meantime, his father Robert, concerned about his son's mental state, consulted Dr. Sutherland at St. Luke's Asylum. On Saturday 26 August, Richard Dadd was examined and deemed not responsible for his actions. Robert, went into denial and became convinced his son was recovering.

The Artist Murders his Father - Enemy of God

The following day, father and son took a trip by steamboat from London to Gravesend, then a gig to Cobham, to have a heart-to-heart talk. In Cobham, the Ship Inn was full, so they took rooms locally. Richard asked Robert to go for a walk that evening, and despite encroaching darkness, they went through the park. While close to a chalk pit, Paddock Hole, Richard attacked his father with a terrible, desperate violence, using both razor and knife. He tried to drag the body away, perhaps intending to dispose of it, but he had to give up and leave his father for dead. Climbing a stile, he ran away. (After this, Paddock Hole was known as Dadd's Hole, but it has now been filled for road widening.)

The body lay face-down around 30 feet from the road. It wasn't clear whether he was dead or drunk, so when Charles, nephew of local butcher Abraham Lyster, spotted him from a gig, he wasn't alarmed. Charles and Abraham were going to Wrotham Market but they stopped and called out to the prostrate man. Charles investigated and realised he was dead. He called to another man, George Biggs, a shepherd. Charles and George turned over the body and were shocked by the awful mutilation. George remained to guard the body, while the other two went to report the murder to the constable in Cobham.

Constable, William Dawes, hurried to Paddock Hole to examine the body. Robert's black coat was unbuttoned, revealing congealed blood and deep wounds to throat and chest. Nearby was the knife, and later the razor was discovered beneath the corpse. A search was organised, but Richard Dadd was not found. He had fled by post-chaise to Dover and crossed the Channel to Calais, explaining his dishevelled appearance as due to an accident. He bought a new suit and abandoned his blood-stained clothes at the Calais Inn before taking a train to Paris.

In the carriage, his feverish mind believed that voices were urging him to kill his travelling companion. He lowered the man's cravat and collar and drew a cut-throat razor from his coat. The Frenchman resisted but received four wounds to his throat.

Committed to an Asylum for the Insane

Dadd appeared before the JP in Montereau and was transferred to the asylum at Clermont, Fontainebleu, still believing himself the instrument of God, commissioned to destroy men possessed by the devil. He swore the killing of his father was a good act; he had destroyed an enemy of God. On his "list" was the Emperor of Austria, Ferdinand the First.

In England, the post-mortem returned a verdict of wilful murder. Robert's funeral took place at Gillingham Church. Meanwhile, in the French asylum, Richard's health worsened, but eventually he improved and was sent back to England in 1844. On 29 July, Dadd appeared before magistrates in Rochester, sporting a long beard and moustache, but he declined to offer any defence. After a second appearance, he was committed to Maidstone Prison, then on 22 August, he entered the Criminal Lunatic Dept. of Bethlem Hospital. He was twenty-seven.

With the support of the authorities, he painted successfully for the next forty-two years. His work decorated the asylum, although this displeased his family as they felt it promoted public knowledge of his shame.

Sources:

Adapted from Murder & Crime, Medway, Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing, 2008.

Richard Dadd, David Greysmith, Studio Vista, 1973.

Spooky Tales of Kent's Reculver Towers and Sacrificial Hauntings

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Ghostly encounters date back to the 3rd century when people believed that throwing bodies into the foundations of buildings protected the living from evil.

    

Reculver Towers, near Herne Bay in Kent, are claimed to be haunted. The beautiful towers are all that remain of an old Saxon church, St. Mary's. Originally, the church, dating from the third century, was built on the site of a fort, but in 1809, the main part of St. Mary's was demolished as it was about to collapse into the sea. The two towers were saved, to provide a useful landmark for shipping, and later, during the 1990s, new sea defences were erected to stop erosion of the shoreline.

Reculver Towers Protected by the Spirits of Infants

The Roman fort on which St. Mary's stood was once 2 km from the shore, but the sea has gradually claimed back at least half the land. From the remaining half, some terrible discoveries have come to light. During the 1960s, eleven tiny infant skeletons were discovered during a dig. Most had been placed precisely beneath walls and the corners of the walls, as though to help prop up the structure. People really believed in past times that tossing small babies into the foundations of buildings helped protect them and their occupants from evil spirits.

As a result, many people claim to have heard the cries of these infants late in the night. They think they are calling to be freed from their entrapment within the foundations. Other people say that babies have been washed ashore from shipwrecks and their cries are added to the laments of the others.

Spooky Reculver's Nightly Hauntings

During the evening, two hooded figures are said to appear, although no one knows who they are. A local builder told me that workmen no longer report the discovery of bones beneath their excavations, because then everything is closed down and the place is over-run with archaeologists and scientists. "I work for myself," he said, "and we are not compensated by the government when that happens. We lose the use of our tools and equipment and the sites can sometimes remain closed for a year or more."

Sometimes, a phantom medieval customs officer and a smuggler engage in a ghostly sword-fight, and other ghosts haunt the dykes, where bodies were flung in the past.

How long the towers will remain intact, no one knows for sure. Kent Wildlife Trust say that the shore is receding at the rate of approximately 1-2 metres a year.

Sources:

• Reculver Visitor's Centre.
• Adapted from Haunted Kent, Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing, 2005.

    

18th Century Crimes Against Innocent Kentish Girls

Mary Bax's grave, copyright Janet Cameron

Mary Bax and Jenny the milkmaid – The brutal treatment of two innocent Kentish girls.

There was little or no protection for innocent young girls who fell foul of male antagonists during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.  In this first account, the girl’s unnecessary and cruel death was avenged by her sweetheart, but in the second, as happened all too often, the girl’s young man abandoned her and the evildoer escaped justice. 

Mary Bax

In a remote place on the ancient road between Deal and Sandwich stands a stone which simply reads: On this spot / August the 25^th 1782 / Mary Bax, Spinster / aged 23 Years / was murdered by / Martin Lash, Foreigner / who was executed for the same

Mary was a beautiful girl who, one day, decided to make the journey across the sand hills to Deal, but on the way she was accosted by the sailor, Martin Lash.  Lash was a Lascar (a sailor from India or south-east Asia) and also a deserter, so he had nothing to lose by assaulting or murdering Mary.  He threw the body into a ditch and the spot is now marked by a tombstone.

Mary was a cheerful and popular girl, so family, friends and neighbours were devastated, not least a young man of seventeen called John Winter who was in love with Mary. At the time of the crime, John’s younger brother, David, had been on his way for a rowdy evening at the infamous smugglers’ haunt, the Checkers-of-the-Hope Inn (the name is said to derive from Chaucer’s Inn in Canterbury) and he witnessed the brutal murder.  David rushed back immediately and spilled out the horrific account to John, who became mad with grief, and then with rage.

John was determined to bring the evildoer to justice, so he went after him, searching night and day until he found him and turned him over to the authorities.  David was able to identify him immediately and so justice was done; Martin Lash was hanged close to where he murdered Mary and where his grave now lies.  The tombstone is still there for all to see.

Later, sadly, David Winter drowned.  John went away for many years, only returning to Deal when the events were all but forgotten.

Mary’s stone now rests high on a levée among the long grass just off the ancient road, but this rise would not have been there at the time, so, although this is the spot where she was killed, it may not contain her grave.  Local people say it is possible her body could have been taken back to Sandwich from where the old Kent surname, Bax, originated.

Jenny the milkmaid

The wealthy Geary family lived at the Old Soar Manor at Plaxol during the eighteenth century. The family employed a milkmaid, a gentle girl called Jenny who knew nothing of the ways of the world.  The only man Jenny ever loved was Ted, a farm worker.  Jenny was unprepared when, during the Christmas celebrations in 1775, a drunken priest discovered her alone in the kitchen, probably washing dishes while hoping she might partake of a small mince pie.  Almost senseless from the consumption of ale, although not enough to render him harmless, the priest grabbed the girl from behind and dragged her away to the barn.  Amidst the general noise and bonhomie, her screams went unnoticed by those partying in the house.

Here, the priest thrust her on the floor and overpowered her. But Jenny didn’t tell anyone.  She was too ashamed, and anyway, she was afraid no one would take her word against his.  Then she found, to her horror, she was pregnant with his child and eventually, her family noticed her expanding waistline.  Her father wanted to know who was responsible, but she refused to tell him, so he told her to leave his home, never to return.

She couldn’t approach her master for help, as he wouldn’t believe her word against that of a priest.  Sadly, Jenny’s young man, Ted rejected her, blaming her for allowing herself to be ‘seduced’ so what could she do but approach the priest, throw herself at his feet and beg for mercy?  Eventually she found him playing hymns on the organ in the chapel.  She pleaded for his help but he would have nothing to do with her.  He could not admit responsibility, he told her, and she must find a young man to marry if she wished to give her child a father.

In despair, Jenny turned away, feeling helpless.  She’d eaten very little through all the worry and began to feel faint.  Nearby was a basin filled with water, called a ‘piscina’, for the priests to wash their hands before preaching. Unfortunately, Jenny, wanting a drink of water, collapsed over it, hitting her head on the side and losing consciousness.  Some people think she may have been pushed down into the basin by the priest. Too weak to resist, she ended up drowning in the shallow water.

As she was only a servant, a brief enquiry was held into her death, and Jenny was laid to rest in unconsecrated ground.  People forgot about her, until one day, early in the twentieth century, a farm labourer claimed to have heard a woman’s footsteps pacing to and fro above a hay and straw storehouse where he worked.  At the time, he had no idea that this was once the original chapel where Jenny died.

The house was bequeathed to the National Trust during the midd-1900s, and again strange occurrences were reported.  It was said that inside the building, lights turned themselves on and off and music emanated from the chapel while the temperature was prone to drop suddenly.  It was also claimed there were sightings of the phantom priest bending over the spot where the basin once was.  The final irony to this story is that the word ‘Soar’ of the Old Soar Manor means grief in Norman French.

           

From Haunted Kent by Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing (2005) £8.99

ISBN 0-7524-3605-8)