Once renowned as a place to dump criminals, and with a past steeped in smuggling, the Isle of Wight provides copious tales of corruption, violence and delinquency. From the customs officer who had both his hands severed by smugglers, to Bembridge witch Molly Downer who embarrassed the vicar by making him her heir, this book contains a vast array of misdeeds and miscreants. Featuring criminals such as Michael Morey, who butchered his grandson, and thirteen-year-old John Leigh, who strangled his father and, caught in the act by his sister, threw her from a window, Isle of Wight Villains details the darker side of this island paradise.
Once renowned as a place to dump criminals, and with a past steeped in smuggling, the Isle of Wight provides copious tales of corruption, violence and delinquency. From the customs officer who had both his hands severed by smugglers, to Bembridge witch Molly Downer who embarrassed the vicar by making him her heir, this book contains a vast array of misdeeds and miscreants. Featuring criminals such as Michael Morey, who butchered his grandson, and thirteen-year-old John Leigh, who strangled his father and, caught in the act by his sister, threw her from a window, Isle of Wight Villains details the darker side of this island paradise.
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Overview
Once renowned as a place to dump criminals, and with a past steeped in smuggling, the Isle of Wight provides copious tales of corruption, violence and delinquency. From the customs officer who had both his hands severed by smugglers, to Bembridge witch Molly Downer who embarrassed the vicar by making him her heir, this book contains a vast array of misdeeds and miscreants. Featuring criminals such as Michael Morey, who butchered his grandson, and thirteen-year-old John Leigh, who strangled his father and, caught in the act by his sister, threw her from a window, Isle of Wight Villains details the darker side of this island paradise.
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9780752482231 |
---|---|
Publisher: | The History Press |
Publication date: | 01/31/2012 |
Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
Format: | eBook |
Pages: | 160 |
File size: | 2 MB |
Age Range: | 9 - 12 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Isle of Wight Villains: Rogues, Rascals and Reprobates
By Jan Toms
The History Press
Copyright © 2012 Jan TomsAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7524-8223-1
CHAPTER 1
Home-Grown Baddies: Murder, Burglary and Theft
Being a law-abiding place, when a murder is committed on the Island it causes shock and disbelief for years to come. This may explain why the most notorious murder, which took place in 1736, still remains a part of local folklore ...
The Gory Story of Michal Morey
Michal Morey was a woodsman growing up at 'Sullens', a lonely cottage in a valley between Newport and Arreton. Even by eighteenth-century standards it was remote. His circumstances would have been familiar to many: little (if any) education, starting work at a young age, marriage, a growing family, and struggling to put food on the table. After Michal's parents died, he remained in the family home, married and had several children. Then, in 1722, another all-too-common tragedy struck the family: his eldest daughter Mary died in childbirth.
At this sad time, she and her husband, Thomas Dove, had been living with Michal. Mary was buried at St George's Church, Arreton, and the motherless child was baptised; he was given the name James.
For several years, Thomas Dove remained with his father-in-law, but then he met another woman and left to set up home with her, leaving James behind. Whether he made any financial arrangement for the boy's care is not recorded, but by this time Michal was fifty-seven and the burden of a grandchild to rear was, no doubt, a great strain on him. For several years, however, grandfather and grandson remained under the same roof, although how they got on is a matter of conjecture.
What happened next is a mystery. In July 1736, Michal, accompanied by his grandson, took a billhook (a curved metal tool used for cutting trees) and two leather satchels, and set off for the nearby woods. Only later was it discovered that the old man struck the boy so violently with the billhook that he nearly severed his head. He then dismembered the body and hid the pieces in the satchels somewhere in the woods.
It seems that, initially, Michal returned home, and when asked about James' whereabouts, he was vague. His demeanour gave rise to suspicion and, when pressurised about James, he in turn disappeared. The hue and cry (a legal requirement dating from at the least the thirteenth century) was raised, calling on the local citizens to join the search for this suspected felon. At Newport, a reward of 2 guineas was offered for his capture, and the countryside was scoured to find him. Michal, who had been hiding – allegedly in a cave – eventually returned home, but when a search of his house was undertaken, his bloodstained shirt was discovered. He was detained on the suspicion of James' murder and held in custody at Winchester Gaol.
A further reward was offered to whoever could find James; it was several weeks before his decomposing body was discovered. The 2 guineas went to local man, Richard Norris. A hasty court was assembled and the gruesome, mutilated remains of James left no doubt as to how he had met his end.
In his book For Rooks and Ravens, Kenneth S. Phillips describes the ghastly moment when the satchels were opened: 'The head, shoes and a sea of maggots rolled on to the grass ...' In the end, James was identified only by his clothes. His burial was hastily arranged in Arreton churchyard.
Michael spent seven months in custody at Winchester before his trial. While he was in gaol, his son Richard gave him money supplied by the parish. The parish also bore the cost of the investigation, the inquest, and supplying witnesses; this totalled £36 5s 2d.
Michal never confessed to the murder. The trial was short – an open and shut case – and on 19 March 1737 he was tried, found guilty and publicly executed within an hour. His body was then encased in a metal frame and returned to the Island to hang in chains near the crossroads at Arreton village – a grim warning to other would be wrongdoers. There it remained, pecked by crows and slowly rotting on the Bronze-Age burial mound still known as Michal Morey's Hump. Local man John Phillips was paid £6 5s for making a gibbet from which to suspend him.
A few ghoulish mementoes of this incident are said to remain. Some of the wood from the gibbet was allegedly used in the construction of the snug at the adjacent pub, the Hare and Hounds, and several skulls, believed to be of Anglo-Saxon origin, were later unearthed at the hump; one, believed to be that of Michal Morey, was displayed inside the same pub. Also, at the time that Michal's rotted corpse was taken down for burial, local landowner William Jolliffe is said to have bought the iron frame in which he hung, and had part of it converted into a pipe rack.
In 1737, in the 'Monthly Chronologer' section of the Gentleman's Monthly Intelligencer magazine, a laconic report of the country's capital murder cases included 'an old fellow of the Isle of Wight for the murder of his grandson'. Michal, then, became a part of recorded history – an honour he might well have preferred to do without.
A Sorry Tale of Fratricide, Greed and Loss
It seems strange to think that Arreton, an ancient and still unspoilt country village, should be the murder capital of the Isle of Wight. Even before the Morey murder, however, Arreton was the site of a brutal double killing by a scheming son.
In the early sixteenth century, Mr John Leigh, a Wiltshire man, acquired the lease of Arreton Manor, and by the time of his death he was certainly the wealthiest man on the Island. He had two daughters and three sons: John, Edward and Barnaby.
On John senior's death, the manor passed to his first son, John, who died childless, leaving the lease of the manor to his wife Elizabeth, with £20 each to his brothers Edward and Barnaby. When Elizabeth died, it was the third son, Barnaby, who inherited the estate.
It seems, though, that Barnaby's family was not a happy one and when he in turn lay dying, his thirteen-year-old son, John, anxious to hurry his father to the grave, smothered him by placing a pillow over his face. Tragically, his young sister Annabelle, who was about eight years of age, witnessed this crime. To protect himself, John Leigh dragged Annabelle to an upstairs window and threw her to her death.
This grim episode was not the end of the family's misfortunes. Barnaby's unhappy widow had two brothers, James and Thomas, who both claimed a right to inherit her estate. To settle the matter they fought a duel, during which one brother died instantly and the other followed him a few days later after sustaining serious injury. Thus ended the Leigh's association with Arreton Manor.
Medieval Murder
When somebody was murdered in medieval times, it was up to the coroner – as a servant of the crown – to investigate. The coroner, whose office goes back at least 800 years, was only concerned with establishing whether the court could confiscate any goods or chattels belonging to the attacker. For this reason, the details recorded in his book were about whether the guilty party had any assets and whether he had run away or would agree to leave the country – in which case his belongings could be seized. What ultimately became of the criminal did not interest the court.
There was a particular significance attached to the value of the weapon that had inflicted the fatal damage, whether it were a knife, a gun, a horse or a runaway cart. It was known as a deodand, and the original intention was to assess its worth and to give its value to God, to be used in a good cause.
Knife Crime
Of the twenty cases of murder examined by the coroner between 1377 and 1391, seventeen involved knives. Given that the Island's population in 1377 was listed as 4,733, this would seem to be a major cause for concern. Other murder weapons listed were a shovel, a pole and a bottle.
The sorts of knives in general usage at the time were variously known as baselards (a two-edged implement) or, more commonly employed, a 'whittle' (also called a 'thwittle'). A whittle was a type of single-edged blade, commonly carried by working men.
Some Early Cases Recorded by the Coroner
In 1380, John Brigges attacked and killed John Stonelether by hitting him on the head with a baselard at Carisbrooke Mill. As Brigges had nothing of value, his fate is not recorded.
At Mottistone in 1381, John Hardy attacked William Gugge with his thwittle, stabbing him in the stomach. Hardy took flight, and at the inquest his goods were valued a £1 16s. The knife was valued at 1d.
In 1382, John Milward attacked John Dawe with his thwittle, causing a 5in wound from which Dawe died. At the inquest at Carisbrooke, it was recorded that Dawe had fled and possessed no goods. His knife was valued at 2d.
Three Cases of Self-Defence?
In 1377, in a field near Ryde, John Aleyn and John Grontale got into a fight. Aleyn was thrown to the ground and Grontale came at him with a knife. Drawing his own knife to protect himself, it seems that in the struggle Aleyn fell on it and died from the wound. The offending knife was valued at 4s. Aleyn's goods were worth £2.
In 1379 at Kern, on the outskirts of Brading, Walter Pedder attacked John Hawkyn twice with a thwittle. It was an unprovoked assault and John drew his own knife and struck out, penetrating Pedder's arm. He died from the wound. As John Hawkyn had acted in self-defence, it was Pedder's goods that were forfeited, being valued at 10s.
The year 1383 saw Robert Gilberd kill John Underwode by stabbing him. He claimed self-defence. The event happened in Sandown; after shouting insults at each other, John struck Robert twice and Robert retaliated with his dagger. John had no possessions to confiscate. The dagger was valued at 2d.
I Blame the Non-Conformists
On 21 June 1812, Mr Hill, shoemaker of Shalfleet, and his son attended church. While they were away, his wife Elizabeth was brutally hacked to death with a hatchet by her husband's apprentice, nineteen-year-old John James.
John had grown up in the village and, apparently, was well-treated and at all times; he had been considered 'normal'. When accused of the crime, he readily admitted his guilt but could offer no explanation as to why he had done it. He further declared that had anyone else been at home at the time, he would have killed them too.
On being cross-examined, he referred to a biblical text from the Book of Job, in which the writer longs for a place that is described as follows: 'The small and the great are there; and the servant is free of the master.'
At his trial, James was expressionless and silent. The Oxford Journal of 18 July 1812 described him as being in a state of melancholic apathy. The judge, Sir Alan Chambre, concluded that he was an 'enthusiastic Methodist' and condemned the dangerous effects of 'vulgar and literal constructions of scriptural passages'.
In the face of overwhelming evidence, John James was found guilty and hanged the following day, 'after spending a considerable time in devotion'. His body was then handed over to the hospital for dissection.
Here Comes the Candle
Citizens of Ryde awoke on the morning of 10 December 1863 to the shocking news that at a small cottage in Cullimore Yard, off St John's Road, a young woman had been murdered. Those who knew the perpetrator, Robert Hallett, might well have shaken their heads and said, 'I always knew that he would come to a bad end.'
Hallett came from a respectable family but was the archetypal 'black sheep'. He was widely blamed for the early death of his wife, who had succumbed under the pressure of his drinking and whoring. She left behind a ten-year-old son. Also, only recently had Hallett assaulted his neighbour.
The murder victim was Mary Anne Phillips, rather snootily referred to in the press as the 'paramour' of Hallett. Because they were living in sin – according to common belief – compassion for the dead girl was minimal. The year before, Hallett had been locked up for threatening to murder the young woman.
Four persons were present at the cottage on the night of the murder: Hallet, Mary Anne, Hallett's son, and the girl's father-in-law, Samuel Saunders. It was Saunders who recounted the events.
It was a horrible winter's night and the three adults were all drunk. Saunders was too indisposed to go home and agreed to stay the night, sharing the bed of Hallett's son. At about five o'clock in the morning, they awoke to shouts from Mary Anne, calling for help. It was still dark and they could not find any matches to light a candle. Saunders admitted that he was still 'boozy', which added to his confusion. By the time they found their way downstairs, Mary, dressed in her chemise and stays, was on the floor, her head nearly severed from her body. Hallet was raving, blaming the drink. The police and a doctor were sent for. There was nothing to be done for Mary, and Hallet was carted away on the charge of killing her.
On the day of the trial, Hallet's soon-to-be-orphaned son cried bitterly as he gave evidence. It took the jury only a few minutes to reach a verdict of wilful murder.
A Drunkard and a Bully
After a miserable life at the hands of her abusive husband, Jane Lacey, of the Old House Farm at St Helens, was badly beaten and died from her injuries. Living in the house with the pair was Susan Wildey, Jane's niece, who had long been witness to the unhappy life endured by her aunt. In February 1861, Henry Lacey had gone into town, and, while he was away, Pricilla Young, a neighbour, had called to help Mrs Lacey to bed. At the time she was very frail, suffering from an inflammation of the bowel, which may well have been a symptom of her unhappy state of mind. Lacey returned home drunk, and the following morning another neighbour, Mrs Corney, called. She was immediately confronted by Lacey, who said that his wife was dead and that she had fallen down the stairs. His next words were guaranteed to arouse suspicion: 'I am as innocent as you are, I have not done anything, I have not done it.' Mrs Corney went upstairs and found the victim with severe bruising to her face and body. Pricilla Young was summoned and swore that there had been no such injuries the evening before.
The doctor was sent for and ascertained that Jane had been dead for some hours. He asked to have a private word with Susan Wildey, the niece, but Lacey pushed her into the house and said that anything that passed between them should be said in front of him. The doctor departed and returned later to find Lacey struggling with the police. He gave his opinion that it would have been well nigh impossible for Mrs Lacey to reach the stairs, being in such a debilitated condition.
Taken to court, Lacey, who was suffering from delirium tremens (shaking frenzies), was sent to Winchester to stand trial. The jury convicted him of manslaughter and he was sentenced to six months in gaol.
Leonard Stone on the Slippery Slope
In early 1907, twenty-one-year-old Leonard Hugh Stone appeared in court for stealing a ferret. His petty crime barely deserves a mention, except for the fact that six weeks later he was charged with attempted murder.
Stone was born in Ryde, in 1863, and nothing has been recorded about his young life, but it is known that he made a living as a travelling hawker.
At some point he met eighteen-year-old Julie Ann Gatehouse, who came from Hove in Sussex. Whatever passed between them, one day he took her to Ashey Woods and tried to murder her – first by attempting to cut her throat and then by hanging her with a rope. Stone was declared insane and incarcerated in an asylum, but only until 4 October 1907. How he spent the next three years is not known, but in 1910 he appeared in court in Aberdeen, charged with rape. The case was unproven but, having also carried out an assault, he received eighteen months' hard labour. Thereafter he disappears from history.
Murder Against Oneself
Until 1961, the act of suicide was a crime and attempted suicide was a prosecutable offence. The threat of damnation and confiscation of the family's assets meant that suicide was a terrible step, and where possible the facts were covered up by those left behind. The coroner regularly concluded that the reason for the death was 'a case of insanity', as evidenced by the various entries in his book. In 1852 the following cases were recorded:
21 January: Robert Bryant of Newport aged forty-nine, hanged himself while in a state of insanity.
23 January: David Horlock Jeffery of Yaverland, aged thirty-seven, 'died from the effects of immersion in the sea into which he had walked while in a state of insanity'.
11 September: Charles Small of Newport, aged twenty-three. 'The deceased hanged himself but no sufficient evidence to show his state of mind at the time.'
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Isle of Wight Villains: Rogues, Rascals and Reprobates by Jan Toms. Copyright © 2012 Jan Toms. Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Title,Acknowledgements,
Introduction,
1. Home-Grown Baddies: Murder, Burglary and Theft,
2. The Military: There's Something About a Soldier,
3. Spies and Insurrections,
4. Suffer the Little Children,
5. The Female of the Species,
6. Parkhurst and its Inmates,
7. Smugglers, Pirates and the Sea,
8. The Ones that Got Away,
9. The Long Arm of the Law,
10. Miscellany,
Select Bibliography,
Copyright,