Barbaric Murders - Child victims, lady-killers and bodies in boxes (Infamous Murderers) Page 3

  Throughout the trial, Esther Hibner senior showed no remorse for what she had done and no fear of what might happen as a result. When she was accused of murdering another apprentice, she pleaded not guilty with all the firmness of a clear conscience. She had evidently persuaded herself that she was not responsible for the children’s deaths. Once a verdict of guilty had been reached on Frances Colpitt’s murder, it was decided not to proceed on the charge relating to the other murder; Esther Hibner could after all only be hanged once.

  Esther Hibner was taken to the condemned cell, where she became aggressive and violent. She told the prison governor, Mr Wontner, that she would not be hanged; he had other ideas. She met her daughter for the last time the day before her execution. Afterwards she went out into the yard. The warder thought there was something suspicious about her behaviour, and sent someone after her to watch what she was doing. In the meantime, Esther Hibner had made an attempt to cut her own throat, though she was not fatally wounded. She was bandaged up, but then needed to be confined in a strait-jacket to stop her from ripping the bandage off. She told Mr Wontner that she had not attempted suicide; she was only hoping to gain a few extra days of life. But it made no difference. The execution date remained fixed for the next day.

  The prison chaplain, Mr Cotton, spent a lot of time with Esther Hibner, but to no avail. She said she knew enough of the Bible already. At eight o’clock on the Monday morning, regardless of the cut throat, Esther Hibner was taken out to be hanged. She looked terrible. She wore a white cap, and a white bed gown over a black gown; together with her sallow complexion the outfit made her look very unearthly. She refused to walk to her death, so two men had to carry her. When she arrived at the scaffold, she was greeted by a crowd of yelling women. After her death, which seemed to be instant, her body was handed to the surgeons for dissection.

  On the same day, the younger Esther Hibner and Ann Robinson were tried for their many death-dealing assaults on Frances Colpitt and the other apprentices. Their sentences – twelve and four months in prison – seem startlingly and disproportionately lenient by comparison with the punishment visited on the elder Esther Hibner.

  John Bell

  ‘the boy who killed for nine shillings’

  John Bell was an unusual murderer in two ways. He was only fourteen years old (his victim was only thirteen), and he does not seem to have minded about being hanged. The unfortunate victim was Richard Taylor, the son of a poor tallow-chandler who lived at Stroud in Kent. Richard was described as a having a peculiar intelligence and an amiable disposition.

  On 4 March, 1831, Richard Taylor was sent on an errand. He was to go to Aylesford to collect an amount of money for his father; it was his weekly parish allowance of nine shillings – a kind of social security. The errand was a regular one and on that account more dangerous; people could observe a pattern in the journey and plan an ambush accordingly. The boy set off in a sou’wester with a kerchief tied round his neck, a shirt, a blue jacket and waistcoat, brown trousers, shoes and stockings. He also asked his father to lend him a knife so that he could cut a bow and arrow on his way home.

  Richard arrived safely at Aylesford, where he met Mr Cutbath. Cutbath was the relieving officer of the parish, and he gave Richard the usual nine shillings. The boy concealed the money in the way he had been shown by his father. He put it into a little bag and held it in the palm of his hand and covered it by pulling a mitten over it. Mr Cutbath watched him hide the money in this way before he set off on the return journey.

  Usually Richard arrived back home at about three o’clock in the afternoon, but on 4 March, 1831 he did not return. When night fell, Mr and Mrs Taylor became alarmed. When the boy had still not come back in the morning, Mr Taylor decided to set off for Aylesford to find out what had happened. He discovered when he got there that Richard had indeed been there and collected the money but he was unable to find out what had happened to him after that. There was just no sign of the boy.

  Days passed.

  On 11 May, Richard was found. A man by the name of Izzard was following a path through a wood about two miles from Rochester, some distance from the public highway, when he found the boy lying dead in a ditch. Murdered for nine shillings. The mitten had been cut from his left hand and his clothes were all pulled about as if he had fought for his life. The body was badly decomposed, but it was still obvious from the bloodstains on the shirt, coat and neckerchief that he had had his throat cut. The wound made in his throat by a sharp-pointed weapon could still be seen. The woodland area was searched and an ordinary white horn-handled knife was found nearby; it looked as if that had been used for the murder.

  The knife gave some clues as to the identity of the murderer, and the Bell family was suspected. The authorities took the father and his two sons, John aged fourteen and James aged eleven, into custody. These three lived in the poorhouse right next to the place where the murder was carried out. The constable discovered that the knife found in the wood belonged to the boy, John Bell. This pointed to him at least being involved in the murder.

  The murder was investigated in front of magistrates in Rochester. The result was that the two boys were both implicated. After that it was seen to be necessary to exhume the body of Richard Taylor. For some reason the boy had been buried without his body having been searched; this was a mistake and it was clear that a search was essential. The authorities decided to take the two Bell boys to the graveyard to witness the exhumation, in order to see what effect this would have on them. The older boy maintained a sullen silence. When the younger boy was told to get down into the grave and search the dead boy’s pockets, he did so cheerfully, rooting about until he produced the knife Mr Taylor had lent Richard when setting off for Aylesford. This was the only item found on Richard’s body, so robbery must have been the motive for the murder.

  The two boys were then questioned again in front of the magistrates. This time the younger boy admitted that he and his brother had together conspired to kill Richard Taylor. John had waylaid Richard in the wood, while he, James, had kept watch at the edge of the wood. The younger boy’s version of events was accepted. The father was released, although there was a strong suspicion that he was an accessory after the fact. It was just the older boy who was committed for trial for murder, though then younger boy was clearly just as depraved. James Bell’s statement revealed that they had been planning to kill Richard Taylor for a long time, ever since he had freely told them why he so frequently made this journey from Stroud to Aylesford and back. They would have killed him sooner or later. John had given him one shilling and sixpence as his share of the proceeds.

  As he was being taken to Maidstone for his trial, John Bell pointed out a pond where he had washed Richard Taylor’s blood off his hands on his way home after the murder. He also pointed out to the constable, from the road, the opening in the wood that led to the place where the murder was known to have been committed, and where Richard’s body was found. ‘That’s where I killed the poor boy.’ Then he said, ‘He is better off than I am now, don’t you think he is, sir?’ The constable readily agreed with him. He probably guessed the boy would hang.

  The trial of the fourteen year old John Bell on 29 July, 1831 was a strange affair. John Bell himself seemed completely detached and indifferent. He seemed to have no apprehension of the terrible consequences of the proceedings. He remained firm throughout. Whether this was due to bravery – the British stiff upper lip – or lack of imagination or sheer stupidity is impossible to tell. The judge gave an emotional address leading up to the sentence of death, yet the boy showed no emotion. The only point in the proceedings where he showed any emotion at all was when it was revealed that his body would be handed over to the surgeons in Rochester for dissection.

  There was no reprieve for John Bell on account of his age, no mercy shown. But then, he had shown none to Richard Taylor, whom he had knowingly killed for just nine shillings. He was hanged at Maidstone at 11.30 a.m. on 1 August, 1831.

/>   Revd Thomas Hunter

  ‘revenge on the tell-tales’

  Thomas Hunter was born in Fifeshire, Scotland, the son of a wealthy farmer. Thomas Hunter was educated at the University of St Andrews, where he took his Master of Arts degree. It was customary in the 17th century for young graduates intending to take holy orders to spend a year or two acting as tutors to the children of rich families. This was partly due to the need to wait for an appropriate benefice. While the young graduates performed this role as tutors they were often called chaplains.

  It was in this state, or station, that Thomas Hunter lived as chaplain in the household of a rich merchant called Mr Gordon. Mr Gordon was a bailey (or alderman) of Edinburgh. Mr Gordon had a wife, two sons and a daughter. Also in his household were a maid who attended Mrs Gordon and her daughter, some clerks and household servants. Hunter was to be responsible for educating Mr Gordon’s sons. The Gordons were to begin with well pleased with Thomas Hunter, seeing him as a highly intelligent and well-meaning young man, a young man with a good heart.

  Hunter then became emotionally and sexually involved with the governess. Their liaison continued for some time without the family being aware of it. Generally Hunter and the girl made love when Mr and Mrs Gordon were out. On one occasion they were together in Hunter’s room and they forgot to lock the door. The children by chance came into the room and found them locked in an embrace. The children were young, the oldest was only ten, and probably did not understand what they had seen. Hunter assumed that they would say nothing, simply because they would not know what to say.

  Unfortunately, when the parents returned and the family were at supper together, the children said just enough about what they had seen in Hunter’s room to leave no doubt in Mr and Mrs Gordon’s minds as to what Hunter and the governess had been doing. The governess was dismissed the following day. Hunter, rather surprisingly, was forgiven, after he made a full apology for his misbehaviour and undertook never to do anything like it again. The incident was written off by Mr Gordon as folie de jeunesse, and Hunter was kept on.

  Instead of being grateful to Mr Gordon for giving him a second chance, Thomas Hunter wanted revenge on him. He wanted to hurt Gordon. He also wanted to punish the children who had betrayed him. He decided to murder them, but he would have to wait for a suitable opportunity. When the weather was fine, he used to walk across the fields with the two boys for an hour before lunch, and the boys’ sister usually went too. That would be the time when he would kill them – all three of them.

  Just before the murder, in mid-August, 1700, the Gordons were staying at their country house just outside Edinburgh. Mr and Mrs Gordon were invited to lunch in Edinburgh, and they were due to set off at just about the time when Hunter usually set off on his midday walk with the children. Mrs Gordon was keen that all the children should go with them into the city, but Mr Gordon was adamant that they should not, and he would only agree to take the daughter. The boys must stay with Hunter. In this way, Hunter’s original plan to kill all three children was frustrated, but he was still going to kill two of them.

  After Mr and Mrs Gordon had set off, Hunter took the boys into the fields and sat down as if he was preparing to relax on the grass. He sharpened his knife as if passing the time while the two boys ran about catching butterflies and picking wild flowers. Then he called the boys to him to explain to them why he was going to kill them. He rebuked them for telling their parents what they had seen in his room and told them they must die for it. The boys were terrified and tried to run away from him, but they were small and he was able to catch them quite easily. He held one down with his knee while he cut the other’s throat. Then he cut the second boy’s throat.

  Thomas Hunter had not even taken the precaution of committing the murders in a private, secluded place. The field he had chosen was within half a mile of Edinburgh’s Castle Rock, a spot where he might easily be seen. As it happened, a man was walking on the Castle Rock, and he witnessed the terrible double murder from that vantage point. In a state of shock, he called out to some other people in the area and they ran with him to the place where the two boys lay dead.

  Hunter had run to the bank of a nearby river, intending to leap in and drown himself. The group of people who had run down from the Castle caught up with him there and recognized him as the Gordons’ chaplain. They decided that one of them should contact Mr and Mrs Gordon to tell them the awful news about what had happened. The Gordons were distraught.

  Old Scottish law has it that ‘if a murderer should be taken with the blood of the murdered person upon his clothes, he should be prosecuted in the Sheriff’s Court and executed within three days after the commission of the fact’. Hunter was accordingly dealt with in unusual haste. He was committed to prison immediately and chained down to the floor all night. The following day the sheriff ordered a jury to assemble; they ordered that Hunter should stand trial. Hunter pleaded guilty, and worsened his already hopeless case, if that were possible, by expressing regret that he had not killed Mr Gordon’s daughter as well as his sons. The sheriff then passed sentence that Hunter should be executed the very next day on the spot where he had committed the murders. He was also sentenced to have his right hand cut off at the wrist with a hatchet. He was to be hanged by being drawn up to the gibbet by a rope. After his death, he was to be hung in chains on the road between Edinburgh and Leith, with the murder weapon stuck through his severed hand and mounted over his head.

  Thomas Hunter was executed in this barbaric way, a revenge execution in every way appropriate to Hunter’s barbaric revenge double-murder, on 22 August, 1700.

  Constance Kent

  ‘the dead baby in the privy’

  In June 1860, Constance Kent, who was then sixteen, and her younger brother William Kent were back from school for their summer holiday. Their home was Road Hill House in the village of Road (now spelt Rode) on the border of Wiltshire and Somerset, not far from Frome. Constance’s father, Samuel Kent, had several daughters and a new wife and since he was socially ambitious he decided it would be a good idea to move close to Bath, which was still a fashionable place where his daughters might be seen and pick up good husbands. Road Hill House seemed ideal. It was eight miles from Bath. It was big, with stables, a fine garden and a shrubbery and pleasant views across fields and lanes.

  The Kent household was affluent, respectable, but rigidly so, and not everyone in it was happy. Constance was profoundly unhappy. The Kents had a new baby, Francis Saville Kent, and their affection for him completely displaced any feeling they might have had for Constance, who became acutely jealous of Saville.

  On 29 June, 1860, Saville had been put to bed early. He slept soundly because he been unable to sleep during the day; the chimneys had been swept that day. The Kents kept two dogs. One was allowed to roam about inside the house. The other was kept chained in the yard. As was his usual custom, Mr Kent went out into the yard at 10 p.m. to feed the outside dog. Constance and William went to bed at the same time, as did Mary Anne and Elizabeth their older sisters. Mr and Mrs Kent stayed up for about another hour talking before they too went to bed.

  Mr and Mrs Kent slept right through that night without being disturbed at all. Mrs Kent woke at dawn when she thought she heard a sound like a drawing room window being opened. During the night, a man fishing in the River Frome heard a dog barking. The village constable heard the dog bark too, and saw a light in a downstairs window and in the nursery window. Elizabeth Gough, the children’s nurse, woke up at 5 o’clock, to see that the baby Saville was not in his cot. She noticed that the sheets had been put back neatly, so she assumed Saville had been taken by his mother and that he was safely in his mother’s room. She fell asleep, not thinking anything was wrong.

  Mrs Kent was pregnant, so when Elizabeth Gough got up at 7 o’clock and went to Mrs Kent’s room and got no answer to her gentle knock she returned unconcerned to her own room and read her Bible. An hour later the assistant nurse arrived, and Elizabeth Gough went back t
o Mrs Kent’s room. Saville was not there, and Mrs Kent was angry with her for thinking that she was well enough to go wandering round the house at night looking for children. Miss Gough was now worried. She had no idea where the baby was. She went to the children and asked them if they knew what had happened to Saville. None of them knew anything. Miss Gough was getting frightened. She asked Sarah Cox, the parlour maid, if she had seen Saville. She had not seen Saville, but she had found the drawing room window open.

  At this point Elizabeth Gough raised the alarm. The boot boy was sent to the parish constable, then to the village constable, who always insisted that the parish constable should attend because the parish was in Wiltshire and the village in Somerset. The two policemen arrived and came to the conclusion that baby Saville Kent had been kidnapped. The policemen advised Mr Kent that the matter should be reported to the Wiltshire police; Mr Kent rode off at once to Southwick, a short distance along the Trowbridge road, to report the crime.

  Meanwhile, the villagers organized a search. They disliked the Kents, and freely admitted it. Samuel Kent was brusque and high-handed. He did not like the idea of being overlooked by the row of cottages near his house, and had had a high fence erected to block their view. He had also insisted on having sole fishing rights to a particularly rich stretch of the river. The Kents’ unpopularity was underlined by the behaviour of the village children, who jeered at the Kent children and openly taunted them. Even so, the plight of a lost baby touched the villagers and they set about trying to find it. Two of them, William Nutt and Thomas Benger, began searching the grounds of the Kents’ house. Constance had once run away dressed as a boy, first cutting her hair and leaving her locks in an old privy in the shrubbery. Nutt and Benger went there and found an ominous pool of blood on the floor, but no splashes on the seat. They could not see down into the cess-pit, so Nutt went off to get a lamp. Benger’s eyes gradually became accustomed to the dark and he saw something pale. He picked it up and found it was a blanket, heavily bloodstained. Nutt came back with a candle. By its light they saw the baby, resting on a splashboard under the seat; the blanket had been resting on the baby. The water was later drained from the cess-pit, revealing a bloodstained piece of flannel, a fragment of women’s clothing and a newspaper that had been used to wipe a knife.