Released from the Jaws of Death

A gruesome account describes the suffering experienced by those who are hanged.  John Smith was hanged at Tyburn on 25 December 1705, but he did not die, and after fifteen minutes the crowd shouted for him to be cut down. He was taken to a house of safety where he shortly recovered, and he was able to describe everything.  This is what he said, and no doubt others have endured the same, although few survive to tell the tale.

His language, taken from an old newspaper, sounds a little strange to our modern ears, but I think you will get the picture!

"When I was turned off I was, for some time, sensible of a very great pain occasioned by the weight of my body and felt my spirits in strange commotion, violently pressing upwards. Having forced their way to my head, I saw a great blaze of glaring light that seemed to go out of my eyes in a flash, and then I lost all sense of pain. After I was cut down, I began to come to myself and the blood and spirits forcing themselves into their former channels put me by a prickling or shooting into such intolerable pain that I could have wished those hanged who had cut me down."

Cameron, Janet, Murder and Crime in Medway, Tempus Publishing, 2008.

Bloody Murder on a Barge

River Medway from Strood, Photo by Janet Cameron

Albert Baker, aged twenty-eight, was the skipper of a barge called the East Anglia, which was owned by the London and Rochester Trading Co. Walter "Ginger" Smith, a little older at thirty-three, was his mate and they were old friends, having shared a school and similar childhood in Strood. Their first trip as barge-mates was in October, 1937, but tragically, this voyage was not to be repeated. Their friendship seemed to be a case of "opposites attract", Albert being a cheerful soul and Walter Smith rather reticent and often depressed.

The Rat Catcher

Picture: Wikipedia, Public Domain


In Victorian times, not all rat-catchers were forced to exterminate their quarry immediately. On the contrary, if they put them into a sack alive and took them to the local inn to be thrown to the dogs in the rat pit, the sport would entertain the riotous crowd and the dirty work could be done for a generous reward.

Mr. J. Watson, a resident of Princes Street in Dover, attended Dover Local Board of Health Managing Committee in 1850, presided over by the mayor of Dover and Councillors Back, Dickeson, Walter, Rutter, Stockwell, Clark and Terry.

Hermit Blewbeard and Dover Castle

Sir Thomas Cheyne was a noble with his eye on the main chance - and that was Dover Castle. The defence of the Channel coast was under fierce scrutiny at the end of January 1450. This was due to an incident on Saturday 24 January when plans for a rebellion were hatched in the villages between Dover and Sandwich.

The perpetrator of these meetings was Sir Thomas Cheyne. He had a two-pronged plan - to take Dover Castle, and to behead a number of his enemies, among them, the Bishop of Salisbury, the Abbott of Gloucester and the Duke of Christchurch, Canterbury. Many of the rebels adopted names to hide their identities, including "King of the Fairies," Queen of the Fairies," and "Robin Hood," while Cheyne himself was "The Hermit Blewbeard." (sic).

The following Monday, 26 January 200 rebels met at Eastry and by the end of the week, thousands more had joined them. Cheyne was gathering a hardy band of volunteers to help him in his attack on Dover Caste. But the rebellion only got as far as Canterbury, where St. Radigund's Abbey Hospice, located outside the city, was attacked.

Thomas Cheyne was arrested on 31 January and later hanged, drawn and quartered at Tyburn, while Dover Castle remained unviolated. Cheyne's head was sent to London, and his quarters shared between London, Norwich and two of the ports.

No one else was executed as a result of the rebellion.

Sources:

Cameron, Janet, Murder & Crime, Dover, Tempus Publishing, 2006.

The Anti-Hero of Medway

Thirty-three year old police constable Alan George Baxter was murdered by his namesake, twenty-year-old Alan Derek Poole in June, 1951 for no good reason except Alan Poole fancied himself an anti-hero. 

            Alan Poole had been known as a ‘bad lot’ with a long history of offending.  The first recorded offence was in 1946 for office-breaking, after which he was sent to an approved school.  After absconding, he broke into a Chatham sports pavilion which resulted in three years Borstal training.  Again, Poole escaped but was arrested and sent back to Borstal.

Unchristian Charity ~ by Janet Cameron

A narrow lane in Brighton - Photo by Gareth Cameron

The Brighton Guardian of 20 May 1863 reported the case of Dinah Mitchell, described by the paper as 'a miserable-looking woman'. Dinah was charged before the Mayor, Mr. Biggs, at the Brighton Borough Court, with begging. Mr. Bridger-Stent was sworn, and said that during the morning, at about quarter to nine, the Rev. Mr. Coombe at Compton Terrace, summoned him.

Dinah Mitchell Begs for Relief

The prisoner had come to the door and sent in word that she wanted relief. Mr. Coombe replied that he could not relieve her, and so the prisoner became very abusive and refused to go away. The impatient clergyman tried to persuade her to leave, but she remained violent and used bad language.

She forced her way into the house and sat down in the chair, saying she would see them to hell fire before she would go. She was there for about a quarter hour and then the constable was summoned and the prisoner taken in charge. The Court was informed Dinah Mitchell had been a great nuisance for some time.

Mr. Biggs told her she would have to go to prison with hard labour for one month. The prisoner said she was a very happy woman, as she would get something to eat now.

This sad reply apparently provoked great amusement in Court.

A Cruel and Irresponsible Mother who Did her Duty by the Law

Much Victorian crime was committed by those too poor to fend for themselves and children were harshly dealt with by an unforgiving system of justice.

A strange case of maternal betrayal was reported in the Chatham News in 1870. To our modern minds, this seems an appalling case of child abuse, yet this mother was actually considered to be entirely within her rights by the rigid Victorian Police Court at Chatham. Chatham was, at that time, a sleazy area, rife with villains, drunks and prostitution.

At eleven years old, at Chatham, on 30 July, 1870, little Elizabeth Bruce appeared in court charged with stealing a pair of trousers and an old skirt, valued at 1s.6d. Her accuser was - her own mother - also called Elizabeth Bruce. The young prisoner pleaded guilty and it is easy to imagine her fear and sense of bewilderment at being betrayed by the one person who should protect her.

What happened to Elizabeth was not at all unusual in Victorian Britain.

Condemnation of a Mother

Mrs. Bruce said she was a widow who lived in The Brook (at that time, a seedy, sleazy part of Chatham) and she had left for work the previous Saturday, leaving her children at home, the eldest being the prisoner. The youngest child was just four years old, so naturally, Elizabeth was left in charge of the other children. Mrs. Bruce returned home about 3.30pm and soon missed the items of clothing. She asked her eldest daughter where they were and Elizabeth said she didn't know.

So the mother demanded an answer from the younger sister, who told her the prisoner had given the things to her to sell, so she took them to Mr. Boatman's, a second-hand clothes dealer. The wife, Mrs. Sarah Boatman, told the magistrate that on Saturday, she bought the articles produced in court from the younger sister, Emma Bruce, who said her mother had sent her on the errand.

A Little Girl of "Bad Character"

Mrs. Boatman was soundly admonished by the court for not making further enquiries about the provenance of the goods. "If there was no receiver," she was told, "there would be no thieves." The magistrate went on to say that if she ever gave such facilities again to children in the future, she would be in trouble herself.

As for the prisoner, the magistrate said he was sorry to hear so bad a character of her and he wouldn't be doing his duty if she wasn't severely punished. The little girl was sentenced to seven months hard labour, and afterwards, a Reformatory for five years. The sentence of hard labour meant actual imprisonment with a punishing work regime in terrible conditions. Most children sentenced to hard labour were then sent on to Reformatories where conditions were equally bad, an outrageously harsh punishment for a small impoverished child.

Adapted from Murder & Crime, Medway, Janet Cameron, Tempus Publishing, 2008
Chatham News, 30 July, 1870.

Copyright Janet Cameron
Published on Suite.101, January 2011.