Miss Elizabeth Pulley

Today I learnt an important lesson about checking what you're allowed to include on blogposts. My original posts about Miss Pulley and Henry Corby contained lots of gruesome details, but they, of course, are not suitable for children. This meant my blog had to sit behind a wall where readers proved their age - a not unreasonable request - and meant, therefore, that it was unviewable by most people. So I'm trying again. A sanitised, polite post or two about the two people at the centre of the murder, without the gruesome bits. Hopefully, the gate will be removed.

When I came across the case of the murder of an elderly Stamford resident a few years back I was immediately enthralled. I had heard of a woman who had apparently died from spontaneous combustion in the town as a teenager, but had not realised that these two women were one and the same. What also surprised me was that nobody had written about the full story before, so that is the intention of this blogpost and the following ones.

You might have come across this blog after reading my book Exploring the Lives of Victorian Prostitutes (if you haven’t, it’s available at Walker’s book shop in Stamford, Waterstones in Peterborough, Peterborough Museum, Amazon and Pen & Sword) and wanted to know more about the horrific murder. Thank you for reading my book, and welcome.

High Street St Martins close to Miss Pulley's house, looking north past the George Hotel and towards St Mary's church

Let me set the scene. It was 1860 and Elizabeth Pulley was 64 years old and living entirely alone in a rather nice house on High Street St Martins, Stamford, probably 55 or 56 High Street due to the gardens. Not too far away lived the Corby family. Henry Corby was a master carpenter, aged around 50 and was married to Elizabeth (nee Goodliffe), aged 60. They had four children - two boys and two girls, although the eldest, Henry, was already married by this point.

On 15^th March Henry Corby killed Miss Pulley in her home, where she lay until she was discovered after a friend raised the alarm, on 19^th March. This is the story of what lead to Miss Pulley’s murder.

St Guthlac's in Market Deeping

Elizabeth was born on 27^th June 1796 in Market Deeping to Thomas and Elizabeth (nee Sanderson) who had married by licence on 1^st October 1795 at St Guthlac’s Church in Market Deeping.[1] Elizabeth had been baptised on 28^th June, suggesting that her prospects at birth were not great. She pulled through, however, and was joined by her sister Mary (born 15^th April, baptised 18^th April) who died aged 15 months (18^th July 1799). Her brother James was buried before he was baptised in 1802 and John Thomas suffered the same fate in 1805. Another John Thomas was born and baptised in July 1808, only to be buried on 11^th November of the same year. Elizabeth was the only child who survived.

Thanks to information from the Deepings Heritage Group, here we know that Thomas was a draper with a shop in Middle Row, Market Deeping. Middle Row was a short row of houses in what is now the Market Place. When the row was knocked down in 1847 Elizabeth was the beneficiary of £145 compensation.[2] Amazingly, we will uncover what she spent her compensation money on in another post.

St Martin's on a cold, miserable day in January

The family moved to Stamford Baron/St Martin’s and Thomas died in 1821 aged 66, being buried in St Martin’s churchyard [3]. The 1841 census show us that both Elizabeths were living on High Street St Martins and had a female servant. The Hibbins family (Edward, Catherine, and Catherine) were also living on their property, possibly as lodgers. Interestingly, there is a joiner living next door, but most of the houses are lived in by independent women with their servants. A ladies’ seminary was a few doors down, which pre-dates Stamford High School for Girls.

Elizabeth Pulley senior was buried on 11^th September 1844 in St Martin’s churchyard aged 80 (possibly baptised in Maxey in 1764 to Thomas and Elizabeth Saunderson). Her will tells us that she was Thomas’ second wife and he had two other daughters: Catherine Lapworth and Ann Scott (later Dean) who were each left £150 to be received two years after her death.[4] Elizabeth was left everything else, which included property and lands which she could live off, as well as all of her money – Elizabeth Pulley was rather wealthy!

Elizabeth’s death was first recorded in the Lincolnshire Chronicle and Stamford Mercury on 23^rd March 1860.[5] The Chronicle stated that she was found on Monday (the 19^th) and was aged 62 (incorrect). The Mercury also incorrectly claimed she was 63 (she was 64), but it had a full description of the inquest on Miss Pulley’s body, which happened on the evening of the day she was discovered. The inquest was held at the nearby Town Hall by John Torkington to attempt to determine the reason for her death.

Stamford Town Hall (and gaol for a while)

During the inquest they determined that she had last been seen alive on Wednesday (14^th) and had probably died on the Thursday morning. Her friend Miss Robertson had raised the alarm on the Sunday after she had failed to appear at church, and Sergeant Harrison and a clerk from Miss Pulley’s attorney’s office entered the house to find her. What met them was the remains of Miss Pulley, who appeared to have been in a fire. As there was no sign of a burglary (there were a lot of valuable items left in the house) or violence (from the body that remained) the coroner decided that the likely cause of death was that Miss Pulley had prepared her fire for lighting first thing in the morning and ‘fell down in a fit’ (had a heart attack or seizure).

As is usually the case, different newspaper accounts recorded different information. The Lincolnshire Chronicle account referred to her as ‘a lady of eccentric habits’ and dwelt on the fact she had lived alone without a servant for the last 18 months and barely left the house, nor let anyone enter it.[7]  It also mentioned a large hole in the floor that had been burnt by the fire, but stated that owing to the floorboards being oak, it had not burnt too far. Their supposed theory was that her dress had caught light from the candle.

However, Miss Pulley’s friends and neighbours did not agree with the inquest conclusion: ‘doubts were expressed in the town as to her having met with her death by accidental circumstances, it being rumoured that neither plate nor coin were found in the house.’ But their concerns were assuaged by the revelation that her house still contained a great deal of valuable items. 

She was buried on Wednesday 21^st March in St Martin's churchyard and her goods were passed to relatives in Putney, which is where her half-sister Catherine (and probably Ann) were living.

By Saturday 24^th March her suspected killer, Henry Corby, was in custody. But who was Henry Corby and why did he kill her? Come back for the next blogpost to find out.

---

[1] According to Freereg records. No sign of the burial of his previous wife Elizabeth

[2] https://deepingsheritage.wordpress.com/tag/elizabeth-pulley/

[3] 31^st March. He was born in 1755.

[4] Catherine was baptised 18^th Jan 1782 – married Abraham Lapworth 1814 in Putney (some say 1815). Abraham was a shopkeeper and they lived in Bermondsey Square, London, not far from Tower Bridge.  Anna was baptised 10^th Oct 1783 – she married John James Dean in Putney, who was a grocer. Elizabeth Pulley’s Will is viewable on Ancestry

[5] ‘Deaths’, Lincolnshire Chronicle, 23 March 1860, p.5 and ‘Shocking Death by Burning’, Stamford Mercury, 23 March 1860, p.4.

[6] ‘Shocking Death by Burning’.

[7] ‘Dreadful Death’, Lincolnshire Chronicle, 23 March 1860, p.5.

Charlotte Webb: Strumpet in Sheep Market

This post is a Christmas-based case about a woman who paid heavily for a quick theft. It’s not a Christmas story, but it is set in the snowy December of 1836. A large part of my current research focusses on Victorian prostitutes in England. I find the stories of the poorest women in Victorian England absolutely fascinating, and it is a delight to be able to construct the lives of these women through newspaper, census, and court records.

Let’s set the scene. It’s Friday 2^nd December 1836 and it’s a cold dark evening in Stamford. Robert Smith, a farmer of 186 acres, has travelled in from nearby Tallington and stopped for a drink, or as the paper put it: ‘quaffing libations to his “evil genius”’ (I would love to know what his evil genius was!). He’s been drinking in or near St Mary’s Street, a very busy thoroughfare with many drinking establishments situated just north of the Town hall and gaol. As a farmer he would have known the street well as it merges into the street known as Sheep Market, which was always busy with farmers.

Robert set off on foot along St Mary’s Street towards Sheep Market when Charlotte Webb, a 'tramping strumpet' appeared and started paying him amorous attentions. This is classic prostitute behaviour from the time that would either result in her taking him to a dark alley or room in an inn (there were many close by) or pickpocketing him without him realising. Unfortunately for Charlotte he was not interested in her attentions (so he later claims), but she walked with him from St Mary’s Street to Sheep Market and past the remains of the castle on to ‘a nook’ on St Peter’s Hill.

It was there, on St Peter’s Hill, that he noticed his purse, containing £48 and 10 shillings, was missing from the pocket of his breeches (yes, Austen fans, regency-style breeches), and accused her of the theft. Her grabbed her arm and was attempting to take her back to the Town Hall, but she shouted ‘murder’ and was immediately assisted by Thomas Johnson who had been watching the whole scene from the door of the nearby Old Salutation inn. He attempted to free Charlotte from Robert’s grip, claiming she was his wife and Robert had been taking liberties, but without success. Charlotte was ‘dragged’ to the Town Hall by the help of a passer-by and given to the police.

She didn’t have the purse on her when she arrived at the Town Hall, so there was some confusion about where the purse had ended up. Charlotte could have claimed complete innocence and with a good legal representative could have claimed that drunk Robert had lost his purse before he met her. That could have been enough to have had her acquitted. Charlotte probably thought that the money would turn up though, and that by telling her captors where the purse was, she could receive a lesser sentence. So where was it?

As Charlotte explained to a woman a couple of days later, when she was being dragged down the hill through Sheep Market she flung the purse at a wall on what was known as Castle Dykings but is now Castle Dyke. This particular wall was near to the sheep pens and behind a wagon, and also home to a healthy pile of manure! Amazingly, after over 24 hours exposed to the elements the purse and entire contents were still sitting in the manure where Charlotte had thrown them. Robert got his money back and Charlotte probably hoped she would be free to leave.

Alas, a trial ensued, Robert being bound over for £50 to appear there to prosecute. The trial was on New Year’s Eve after weeks of incredibly heavy snow that had crippled the local road and mail network. Even once the snow had abated, travellers were still having great difficulty moving about due to the terrible state of the turnpikes, so it’s amazing that the trial went ahead at all. Charlotte Webb was found guilty of the theft of £48 10s, which was a considerable sum at the time. She was sentenced to 14 years transportation.

Robert Smith had requested costs in the case but in a moral swipe at the farmer Mr Hildyard, the Recorder, claimed he would not use the town money to protect ‘the property of a man acting as Smith had done on the occasion of the robbery.’ He was under no illusion of the interaction that had happened between Smith and Webb. Having identified many such cases of farmers travelling to Stamford for sex, this writer is not under any illusion either!

Charlotte was transported on the Henry Wellesley ship, which left England on 17^th July 1837. She arrived in New South Wales on 22^nd December 1837, over a year after her initial arrest. It’s not known what happened to Charlotte after her sentence, but she potentially never returned to England. Those December weeks locked in the cellar-like gaol under the Town Hall were weeks of snow and freezing temperatures and would have been incredibly bleak. But for Charlotte they might have been the last time she ever saw snow. After her ordeal she probably never wanted to see the snow again, and who can blame her?

At the same sessions Harriet aka Jane Smith and Robert Riley were accused of an almost identical case in the same location a month earlier. This time the couple had clearly worked together with another unnamed man and both Harriet and Robert had the spoils of their theft upon them. They too received 14 years transportation. According to the Convict Records website Riley was sent to Tasmania, however Harriet was on the same ship as Charlotte. It’s possible that the women had become friends in gaol and that their friendship on the long voyage made their ordeal a little more bearable.  

 

References:

 

Stamford Mercury, 9 December 1836, p.3.

Huntingdon, Bedford and Peterborough Gazette, 10 December 1836, p.8.

Stamford Mercury, 30 December 1836, p.3.

Stamford Mercury, 6 January 1837, p.4.

Convict Records.com.au

 

An Enormous Christmas Turnip

In December 1841 the Stamford Mercury reported that a very large turnip had been discovered by a farmer and deposited in Stamford. Mr Nixon, a Stamford farmer, had dug up his enormous turnip in his field and had taken it to town for weighing. The vegetable was the length of a five-year-old child (3ft 7in/109cm) and weighed 18 ¾ lbs (8.5kg) or more than the weight of a microwave!

Mr Nixon took the turnip to the Stamford Institution on St Peter’s Hill, which had only been founded three years earlier. It’s not stated what happened to the turnip, but we can hope they either found great scientific value in the specimen or enjoyed a handsome meal!

Reference: Lincolnshire Chronicle, December 24 1841, p.3.

A Family Day at Stamford Races

The Stamford Mercury is one of England’s oldest papers in England, which means we can get a snapshot of Stamford life that we do not get from many other towns and cities. One of those snapshots is of horseracing in Stamford.

Stamford was a pleasure town in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and had all of the attractions you would expect such a town to have, including a well-known racecourse. In September 1718 the Mercury revealed the horses who were entered into the Three Plates run at the Stamford Races on the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth day of that month, and of course, the winners too.

Tuesday the 17^th for the Ten Pound Plate

Robert Mackmillian’s Black-Horse, Dunham

Mr Thompson’s Bay-horse, Spider

                                     Mackmillian’s horse Spider won.

 

Wednesday 18^th, for the Ladies Plate of Twenty Pound,

Mrs Wilson’s Chestnut-Mare, Brunnet.

The Countess of Gainsborough’s Bay-Horse, White-Foot.

Mr Copinger’s Grey-Horse, Cheater.

Marquis of Lindsey’s Chestnut-Horse, Cripple.

Mr. Thompson’s Chestnut-Horse, Squirrel.

The Countess of Exeter’s Gray ------ Loyalist.

The Duchess of Rutland’s Chestnut-Horse, High-Low.

Mr Parker’s Gray-Mare, Smiling Jenny.

                                 Marquis of Lindsey’s Chestnut-Horse, Cripple, Won.

 

Thursday the 19^th, for the Twenty Five Pound Plate

Mr Noel’s Chestnut-Mare, Brunnet.

Countess of Exeter’s Gray ------ Loyalist.

The Duchess of Rutland’s Bay-Horse, Farmer.

 

Sadly the information slips onto a page that is not in the collection, so we do not know the other horses that entered, or which horse won.

There are a few observations to take away from this race, firstly the unusual, and at times offensive, names of the horses. It is likely that the names were chosen in part to elicit laughs from the supportive calls of the punters, and also the insults waged from the winner, who would no doubt have had great mirth in celebrating the victory of a horse named ‘Cheater’ over its rivals. Secondly, and unsurprisingly, the vast majority of people entering horses in the races are local nobility. But what might surprise you is that most of them were related to each other!

The Countess of Gainsborough, Dorothy Noel, was the daughter of the 1^st Duke of Rutland, John Manners of Belvoir Castle, and the granddaughter of Lady Elizabeth Bertie. Mr Noel was almost certainly her relative given that Dorothy’s mother was Catherine Wriothesley Noel, and her husband Baptist Noel was her first cousin. She was also competing against her sister-in-law Lucy Manners (nee Sherard), Duchess of Rutland, who had married her brother, also named John, in 1713. Not only was she her sister-in-law, but she was also her aunt Elizabeth’s sister (she had married her mother’s brother John).

Dorothy Noel was also the second cousin of the Marquis of Lindsey, Peregrine Bertie, who gained the title after his father was advanced to the Duke of Ancaster and Kesteven. Peregrine, of Grimsthorpe Castle near Bourne, had married Jane Brownlow of Belton House in 1711. Jane’s sister Elizabeth had married John Cecil, 6^th Earl of Exeter in 1699, meaning that the Marquis was competing against (and beat) his sister-in-law, second cousin, and her relatives with his unfortunately-named horse. It is such a shame that the record does not exist of the entrants and winners in the twenty-five-pound plate, for we can imagine that it was very hotly contested within the wide and convoluted family tree watching the spectacle.

For further information about the racecourse, this website is recommended http://www.greyhoundderby.com/Stamford%20Racecourse%20UK.html

Reference: Stamford, September 17., Stamford Mercury, September 25 1718, p.11.

An Earthquake in Stamford in 1750

Much of the information I gain comes from the fantastic British Newspaper collection. Little notes can lead to large stories when cross-referenced with other collections, archive material, census information, books etc. Sometimes, it's just nice to find accounts of small events and share them for the fun of it.

Back on the 3rd October 1750 an earthquake was recorded in Stamford. This was obviously long before we have the sophisticated material that exists today and any earthquake can feel quite alarming, so how did they explain its strength?

Thankfully, there were people who had experienced two earlier earthquakes in London that were able to compare it with the Stamford earthquake. It was described as 'stronger than the first [London earthquake], but neither so violent, nor continued so long as the latter.' If this were a competition, I have a feeling that the Stamford earthquake would have managed a respectable 2nd place rosette. A reminder, if one were needed, that provincial towns should not compete with great cities like London on such matters!

Whilst researching, I came across a book that made me wonder if the town's well-known historian William Stukeley had witnessed the earthquake, for I discovered he had published a book called 'A Philosophy of Earthquakes, Natural and Religious'. The book, I discovered, pre-dated the earthquake, and Stukeley was living in London then, but additional information in the third edition printed in 1750 was just what I was looking for.

Stukeley still had many local friends and they corresponded with him on local earthquakes. The Stamford earthquake was claimed to have occurred on 30th September at '36 minutes after 12 o'clock at noon' and the description by Mr Alderman Taylor is vivid:

They were suddenly surprised with an uncommon noise in the air, like the rolling of large carriages in the streets, for about 20 seconds. At the same instant they felt a great shake, or snap, as he calls it; insomuch that it sensibly shook a punchbowl, which was in his parlour, and made it ring. He says it was perceiv'd of most of the people of Stamford, who generally ran out of their houses.

The description continues, stating that the earthquake was felt far and wide including Oakham and Peterborough. However this detail is part of a much larger book in which Stukeley attempts to use philosophy (science) and a little religion to try to understand what earthquakes are and how they're formed. One note regarding the centre of another earthquake being situated in Deeping Fen which was 'under water in the winter time; underneath 'tis a perfect bog' ruled out a theory that earthquakes came from subterranean fires.

I recommend taking a look at the book, which is free to access thanks to the Gutenberg Project, and diving into that great philosophical mind. He makes some interesting observations which need to be read in context to be really appreciated.

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/63322/63322-h/63322-h.htm

B. Country News, The Ipswich Journal, 13 October 1750, p.1.