Shocking career and death of the Hon Jane Yelverton

At an early hour this morning, the all but naked dead body of a female was found freezing in the filthy water of a kennel in one of the most miserable back streets in the town of Douglas, Isle of Man. On the body being turned over, the besotted, bloated countenance was found to be that of the locally notorious “Jenny Keefe,” whose proper name was the Hon. Jane Yelverton, the widow of the Hon. Augustus Yelverton, who was brother to Lord Avonmore, and uncle to the well-known Major Yelverton. The only covering of the unfortunate woman was a thin gauze frock, which did not reach to the knees, an old pair of short socks, full of holes, and a pair of thin slippers. A few hours before the discovery of the frozen body in the gutter she was heard trolling out, in a voice husky with excessive drink, the words of a popular song, called “True blue for ever.”

The history of the career of this wretched woman and her late husband is most extraordinary and painful. About twenty-five years ago the Hon. Augustus Yelverton married Jenny Keefe, a woman of low birth, he having previously had two wives, one a Spanish and the other an Irish woman. They lived together in the Isle of Man during the last twenty years, where they were both notorious for their fearful depravity, reckless conduct, and drunken habits. They had been committed to prison at least one hundred times for drunkenness, disorderly conduct, &c. They were in the receipt of an ample allowance from Lord Avonmore, but they were in the habit of spending it in drink as quickly as they got it, and they scarcely ever had on them sufficient rags to cover their nakedness.

The pair were, curiously enough, almost romantically attached to each other, so much so that they invariably accompanied each other in their orgies, and if one of them was sent to gaol, it was the practice of the other to smash some shop-windows or make a disturbance in the streets, for the sole purpose of getting committed also. They scarcely ever had a place to lay their heads in, and they lived the greater portion of their time either in the streets or in prison. This wretched state of existence was changed, though not improved, by the departure of the husband for Liverpool a short time back, for some purpose or object probably of a private or family nature. About two months ago he was found dead in a low lodging-house in that town, want of food and excessive drinking having had much to do with the termination of his career. The Hon. Jane Yelverton was called to Liverpool in consequence, and waited upon a legal gentleman in order that arrangements might be made respecting a considerable sum of money said to fall to her by the death of her husband.

A few days before her death she returned to Douglas; and, in conversing with a woman in a low public house on the day before her death, stated that her fare from Liverpool back to the island had been paid by the lawyer she had seen at the former place. Little appears to be known of her subsequently until the discovery of her body in the street as above described. An inquest was held the same day by the High Bailiff of Castletown, the woman being well known to all present, and the jury returned a verdict of “Death from exposure.” This unfortunate couple had no offspring, but by his former wives the Hon. Augustus Yelverton had several children, who were long since removed from his care in consequence of his depraved habits.

Extraordinary case of witchcraft at Castle Hedingham.

Emma Smith, thirty-six, and Samuel Stammers, twenty eight, were placed at the bar before Mr. Bernardiston and a full bench of magistrates, sitting in petty sessions at Castle Hedingham, charged by Superintendent Elsey with having unlawfully assaulted an old Frenchman, commonly called “Dummy,” on the night of the 3rd of August, and thereby caused his death on the 4th inst.

From the extraordinary circumstances connected with the case the greatest interest was manifested in the proceedings, and the court was crowded. The female prisoner was the wife of a beershop keeper in the village of Ridgewell, about six miles from Hedingham, and Stammers was a master carpenter in a small way of business. It is a somewhat singular fact that nearly all of the sixty or seventy persons concerned in the outrage which resulted in the death of the deceased were of the small tradesman class, and that none of the agricultural labourers were mixed up in the affair. It was also stated that none of those engaged were in any way under the influence of liquor. The whole disgraceful transaction arose out of a deep belief in witchcraft which possesses to a lamentable extent the tradespeople and the lower orders of the district.

The victim of this superstition was a deaf and dumb French man, whose age was about eighty - some persons suppose him to have been about eighty-six years. Being unable to express himself, and being of a somewhat vivacious disposition, he was accustomed to make use of energetic and somewhat grotesque gestures, which were taken by the rustics generally as cabalistic and diabolical signs, and he was consequently regarded with considerable awe. He lived alone in a wretched hut. Who the unfortunate Frenchman was, or whence he came, could not be ascertained. For the last seven or eight years he resided in Sible Hedingham, and previous to that he lived in Braintree. There is little doubt that he gained his living, to a great extent, by telling fortunes, if not by pretences to witchcraft. Some hundreds of scraps of paper were found by the police in his hut after his death, and upon most of them were written questions which, neither in their style nor their subject-matter, say much for the enlightenment of the district. The following are fair samples:–“Her husband have left her manny yrs, and she want to know weather he is dead or alive.” “What was the reesen my son do not right?−i meen that solger.” “Do you charge any more ?” The answer to this query was doubtless satisfactory, for this momentous question was then put, “Shall I ever marry?’’ Love-letters from girls to their sweethearts were also found, with “Shall I marry,” and “How many children shall I have?’ written in pencil on them. The most business-like of all the notes was the curt one, “Did you say we kild your dog? If you did, I will send for the policeman.” Nor were his patrons altogether confined to the lower orders. One letter states that the lady was “comen herself on Mundy to see yoo, and she gave you oll them things and the shillen.”

In the hovel were found, besides, between 400 and 500 walking sticks, a quantity of umbrellas, some French books, a number of tin boxes, some foreign coins, chiefly of the French empire, and about a ton of rubbish, which it was found impossible to classify in the inventory that was taken. The most definite ideas about the man have been suggested by the following questions which were found written, seriatim, on a scrap of paper:-‘‘Were you born at Paris?” “The name of the town where you were born ?” “Where was your tongue cut out?” “Le nom de votre ville?’’ The answers were no doubt made by signs.

It appeared from the evidence, that the prisoner Smith took it into her head that she had been bewitched by this poor Dummy; sought him in his dwelling, and offered him three sovereigns if he would accompany her home and heal her. The old man refused by signs both offers. She then followed him to the tap-room of a public-house called the Swan, and repeated her offers, which he again refused; a mob collected, and at length the woman Smith struck the poor old man on the head with a stick. This not satisfying her and the mob, it was proposed, as in days of old, to submit him to the ordeal of water. Thereupon the poor old Frenchman was thrust into a ditch, but that not being deep enough, he was dragged up to the mill-head, and dragged through it again and again, until his tormentors began to be frightened at the possible results, and allowed him to crawl on shore, where he lay on the bank exhausted. The old man at length managed to crawl towards the Swan, and leant against the wall for support, and asked for shelter of a butcher named Ames, who refused to let him in. At last two women, and a man named Neville, took compassion on him, and helped him to his own hut, and recommended him to change his wet clothes. The poor old Dummy kissed their hands to express his gratitude. Two days afterwards he was found to be so ill as to be obliged to be removed to the workhouse, where he died from the effects of his ill-usage.

Evidence having been given that the cause of death was clearly traceable to the cruel treatment sustained by the deceased, and as to the part taken by the two prisoners in the ill-usage, they were asked what they had to say in their defence.

Smith replied in a peculiar voice, and evidently under the influence of some superstitious fear, that she would tell the truth. Deceased came to her house first. He spat upon her, and told her that after a time she should be ill, and she was ill. A doctor came to her twice in one night, but could not cure her. The man (Dummy) came to her shop ten months ago, and asked leave to sleep in her shed. She let him, but in a few days when she wanted him to leave, he made signs and wrote upon a door that she should be ill in ten days. He made her ill and bewitched her, and she went everywhere, but no one could set her right again, she was afraid, for no medicine could do her any good.

The Chairman. - Are you aware of the nature of the charge against you - that you caused the death of the old man by your conduct on the 3rd of August?

The prisoner. - That night? I will tell you the truth. That night I went to the Swan very bad. I went up to the old gentleman and asked him to go home with me to do me good. He said he would not go. Gibson took him up, and put him in my face, to kiss me, but I did not want to do that, as I had a husband of my own. A number of plaiters (of straw for bonnets) came in, and said “How bad this woman is!” There were forty or fifty people there, few of them men. They got him out. Some stoned him, some shoved him into mud, and did more to him than I did. I begged and prayed that he would go home with me, but he said he would not unless he liked. I do not deny that I put my hand to his head, but I was so bad I could not lift a dog, and this man here (Stammers) took him by the heels and threw him in the water, and then he (Stammers) jumped in and got him out. I may die any moment. There was one there who did not touch him, and that was Mrs. Bruty, who said she was afraid of him. That is the truth.

Stammers simply said he was not guilty.

The Chairman said it was a fearful and a disgraceful fact that at the present day an old and mutilated man should meet with such a fate, and that no one of all the crowd of men and women present should have interfered to save him, or even have told the police of what was going forward. The prisoners stood committed to Chelmsford Gaol for trial at the next spring assizes.

Death of a servant through wearing crinoline.

Mr. Payne, coroner, held an inquiry at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, respecting the death of Mary Scannell, aged sixteen. Mrs. Tweeland, 20, Bartholomew-close, said that deceased was engaged in removing the Christmas decorations from over the mantelpiece. A branch of holly fell inside the fender and blazed up, setting fire to her crinoline, which was extended by means of steel hoops. The hoops prevented her gathering her clothes together, and her efforts to extinguish the flames only caused them to burn more fiercely. In her terror she ran downstairs into the yard, where several persons, attracted by her shrieks, came to her assistance. Mr. Humphreys, house-surgeon, said that the deceased was brought to the hospital on a shutter, still burning. Her injuries were fearful, her body being completely charred, except where the stays afforded a slight protection. The coroner having summed up, the jury returned a verdict “That deceased was burnt to death by misfortune.”

Murder and mutilation by a maniac.

A horrible case of murder and mutilation by a madman has occurred at Preston, near Weymouth. At that village dwelt an aged couple, named Cox, and with them a son, a wild and violent character. This man had had a fit, followed by brain fever. Insanity followed, and he was ordered to be removed to a pauper lunatic asylum. Mr. Puckett, the medical officer, and Mr. White, the relieving officer, proceeded to the parents' cottage. They met the old man, who said, “Be you going to take John away?” They answered that they were. The old man said, “You’d better not, or mischief will be done.” Mr. White went away in order to procure a conveyance, and Mr. Puckett sat down and endeavoured to keep the maniac in conversation. The latter, however, soon became violent and then the father also went away for assistance. The maniac then used such violent language that the doctor went into a small garden in front of the house. The madman went into a back bedroom, tore down a bed-post, followed the doctor, and with this instrument struck him down. He then ran into the house for the purpose of getting his gun (for he was a poacher by occupation), but not readily finding it, seized a saw, rushed to the still insensible doctor, and deliberately sawed his head off. He then sawed off one of the hands and one of the feet; and then, putting on a shirt and an old coat, but without his trousers, ran to the stables of a neighbouring inn, and hid himself in the stables. Here he was in a short time secured by one of the county police.

Accidents to ladies by machinery.

 The newspapers have lately recorded the deaths of several ladies by careless approach to machinery.

The Bedlington Iron Works, situated near the scene of the Hartley Colliery disaster, having been closed for a long time, had recently been taken and reopened by Messrs. Dixon and Mounsey, two gentlemen well known in connection with the iron trade of the north-eastern counties. The family of the latter had subsequently taken up their residence in Bedlington. The new firm had greatly enlarged the works, and added also some new rolling and saw mills. 

These new works having been opened on the 31st January, Mr. Mounsey took his wife, with their three eldest children and some lady visitors, down to see them in full operation. Having examined the other portions of the works, the party came into the rolling and saw mills, where they saw the circular saw in full operation, and were proceeding to leave for another portion of the works. To do so they had to cross a spindle, connecting the circular saw with the engine belonging to the rolling mill by a leathern belt, and which spindle, being made of two pieces of iron, was connected together in the centre by nuts.

Mrs. Mounsey had stepped over the spindle, which was flying round at a rapid rate, but the bottom of her dress was unfortunately caught by one of the bolts or nuts described. In a moment she was thrown over, and though seized hold of by Mr. Dixon who was accompanying her, her limbs and the lower part of her person were as instantaneously drawn through an aperture only six inches between the revolving spindle and the ground, literally crushing her out of all form up to her breast. She had not time to scream, for she was dead in a moment. The engine was immediately stopped, and the workmen ran from all parts of the factory to help. The ladies and children, a minute before constituting the happy group, now paralyzed with terror, were taken away as rapidly as possible, and, the spindle being unscrewed, the remains of the deceased were got out as speedily as practicable, in a condition too horrible to describe. The poor lady was the mother of six children.

On the 11th February, the town of Birmingham was thrown into a state of excitement, occasioned by the frightful and melancholy death of Mrs. Stanley, the proprietress of the Stanley Saw Mills, Hesinsforth Street, which happened under the following circumstances.

This unfortunate lady was in the act of stepping over a spindle in the mill when, her dress being caught, she was dragged into the machinery. Her son, who was standing close by at the time, immediately took hold of her, and prevented her being carried round by the shaft, and raised an alarm.

The engine being stopped, the poor woman was extricated from her awful position. It was then found that her body was almost severed in two, and that death must have been instantaneous.

On the 14th February, another similar accident occurred at Birdsall, a Wold village, a few miles from Malton. The sufferer, on this occasion, was Mrs. Hudson, the wife of Mr. Hudson, a shopkeeper at Burythorpe, a neighbouring village, who went to Mr. Walton's farm at Birdsall, where a corn-thrashing machine was in use. In attempting to step over the “tumbling shaft," which revolves rapidly, and presents sharp angles very likely to catch and retain hold of a dress brought within its reach, Mrs. Hudson's dress was caught in this way, and was instantaneously wrapped several times round the shaft, the wearer being, of course, brought down with it, and, to the horror of all present, whirled round and round with every revolution. The machinery was stopped as quickly as possible, and when the unfortunate woman was extricated, it was found that her knees were dislocated, and that she had received many wounds and very serious injuries.

A few days later, the Yorkshire Wolds were again the scene of a similar accident. As in the previous case, a thrashing-machine was at work, when Miss Charlotte Boulton, daughter of Mr. F. H. Boulton, of Acklaun Lodge,the occupier of the farm, was standing near, looking at the machine at work, when the wind carrying her dress too near the “tumbling shaft,” she was drawn in and whirled round and round repeatedly. So soon as the machine could be stopped, it was found that, in addition to other serious injuries, both the young lady's legs were broken.

Singular deaths on the Grand Junction Canal.

Formerly the boats on the Grand Junction and other canals were propelled through the tunnels (which were not much larger than sewers) by the process of "legging"; that is, by the power of men who lying on their backs push with their feet against the walls. Lately this primitive system has been superseded by steam-tugs, which, however, have disadvantages in the smoke and vapour they leave behind in the tunnels. On the Grand Junction Canal near Blisworth is a tunnel, more than a mile in length, and with only one shaft for ventilation. On the 6th inst. two of these steam-tugs entered this tunnel, in which the air had probably been already vitiated. The funnels of these boats poured out into the narrow and low passage such volumes of steam, smoke, and decomposed air that the people navigating them became insensible, and before the boats emerged to pure air two men were quite dead. One of these was roasted, by his body having fallen on the engine.

Pupil beaten to death

A very shocking incident has occurred at a private school of the highest class at Eastbourne. This establishment was restricted to the reception of a few pupils, the sons of persons in a high rank of life, willing to pay a large sum for the best instruction of their children, with the accommodation and treatment suitable to their position and prospects. The principal was a Mr. Hopley, a person of high attainments and of irreproachable character. One of the youths committed to his charge was Reginald Channell Cancellor, aged 15, son of Mr. Cancellor, a Master of the Court of Common Pleas. As the position of this gentleman was such that his son might expect hereafter to belong to one of the genteel professions, he spared no pains or expense to give his child an education such as would fit him for his aim in the struggle of life. He sought out for him a school of reputation and a master who had the credit of being a man of high attainments and a successful teacher of youth. Mr. Hopley was to receive 180l. a year with his pupil, and there was every incentive, therefore, to the tutor to endeavour to do his best by the boy.

Unfortunately, he did not understand the lad who had come under his control. Young Cancellor was labouring under disease. He had water on the brain. He was stolid and stupid, and he could not learn. He was silent when asked to repeat a sum in arithmetic which he had just been taught, and he did not know, or, as his schoolmaster thought, affected not to know, the difference between a sixpence and a shilling.

This was a case for medical custody and gentle treatment. Mr. Hopley took a pedagogue’s view of it, and thought it was a case of obduracy, to be broken down by force. He flogged the boy, and, as it did him no good, he told the father that the punishment must be increased until the authority of the school master was established. Up to this point there is not much to be said. The fate of the poor brain hampered, heavy, mindless boy, urged and flogged to work operations in his confused and formless intellect, must have been very wretched; but Hopley probably believed that all boys are alike, some brighter and some duller than others, but that all could take in the ordinary quantum of knowledge with more or less trouble if they pleased. At first he seems to have thought it his duty to conquer the boy’s obstinacy; but, as the contest went on, there appears too much reason to believe that it became a question of temper with the school master, and that violence and cruelty were the effect of vindictiveness and irritation.

One morning young Cancellor was found dead in his bed. The body was carefully covered over. It had white kid gloves upon its hands, and long stockings drawn far up over the thighs; nothing was visible but the face. Hopley suggested that the boy had died of disease of the heart, and wished a certificate from the surgeon and immediate burial. At one moment it appeared likely that the whole affair would be hushed up. But mysterious stories of midnight shrieks and blood-stained instruments of punishment began to be whispered about. The servants had seen blood upon the linen in Mrs. Hopley’s room, and had heard sounds which convinced them that the miserable wife had spent the night in the frightful task of preparing the body to pass a superficial investigation, and in getting rid of the traces of violence which would testify against her husband.

Then came the real investigation. The gloves and the stockings were stripped off, and the legs and the arms of the corpse were found to be coated with extravasated blood, “the cellular membranes under the skin of the thighs were reduced to a perfect jelly; in fact, all torn to pieces and lacerated by the blows that had been inflicted.” There were two holes in the right leg about the size of a sixpence, and an inch deep, which appeared to have been made by jabbing a thick stick into the flesh. The appearance was that of a human creature who had been mangled by an infuriated and merciless assailant.

All these appearances coincided but too faithfully with what was now learnt of the conduct of the schoolmaster. A servant girl who slept next to the pupil-room heard the boy crying and screaming under blows, and her master talking and beating. She listened at 10 o’clock, when the torture was going on, and she awoke at 12, and it was still proceeding. Then the cries suddenly ceased, and nothing after was heard during that unquiet night but the stealthy movements of the wife, who was, with womanly devotion, doing her fearful task of hiding the traces of the tragedy. Others of the servants had heard or witnessed part of the sufferings of the unhappy victim—had heard the blows, the exclamations—the midnight screams —and then (if the expression may be allowed) the horrid silence. They heard the steps of the unhappy wife, the pouring out of water; they witnessed the stained fluid, the wetted clothing, the gore spotted flooring and carpet, and, in the morning, the wild attempts to conceal the tragedy of the night. The narrative of these uneducated women told the tale of horror with a dramatic force beyond the reach of art. The superficial attempts of the awe-stricken family to give a natural appearance to the death could not impose upon persons who had witnessed the sufferings and heard the cries of the victim, and the shocking result became bruited abroad.

The brother of the poor lad (a clergyman) came to Eastbourne to inquire into the truth of the rumours current of his relative’s death. It would probably be uncharitable to remark too severely upon the statements made by the conscience-smitten man to conceal his crime; it may well be excused to a man placed in so terrible a position by the consciousness of unpardonable cruelty and the dread of the consequences to his good name, that he should represent in a non-criminal light the circumstances of the deed; but he said that when, as his latest act, he again fetched the rope and inflicted punishment, he himself burst into tears, and that then the poor lad placed his head upon his breast and asked to be allowed to say his lesson, and that he then prayed with him before he left him. Afterwards, he clasped his hands together and said, “Heaven knows I have done my duty by that poor boy.” The inquiries of the brother necessarily developed the whole miserable story, and Mr. Hopley was given into custody. The details of the evidence before the magistrates sent a thrill of horror through every family group throughout the kingdom.

The prisoner was tried at Lewes on the 23rd July, and the whole horrifying details having been repeated, he was found Guilty, and sentenced to four years penal servitude.