In March 1873, George Wilson murdered his ten-year-old son, Thomas. According to a
medical report, Wilson ‘became disturbed and distracted by domestic […] troubles and
finally gave way to intense melancholy, accompanied by delusions and strong religious
fancies', and while his mind was under these ‘insane influences’ he murdered his child.
1
At the Old Bailey on 24 November 1873, witnesses testified to the distinct change
in Wilson's character as a result of his insanity. His neighbour, Mr Oxley, told the
court that Wilson would not have allowed ‘a hair on […] [his children's] heads to
be injured', and Wilson's eldest son William, when asked ‘Has he always been a kind
father?’ replied ‘Oh, yes: he has been one of the best of fathers until he went out
of his mind’.
2
The jury found Wilson ‘to be of unsound mind and incapable of pleading to the indictment’
and he was committed to Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum.
3
During the 1820s physicians refined and developed the term infanticide as a symptom
of puerperal insanity
4
Since Victorian psychiatrists (alienists) cast infanticide as maternal, scholars have
tended to focus on infanticidal women and questions surrounding illegitimacy, poverty
and puerperal insanity Partly because of contemporary beliefs about womanhood, infanticidal
women were usually considered insane.
5
Cases of paternal child-murderers in nineteenth-century England are less frequently
subject to historical research. Melissa Valiska Gregory has studied male infanticide
in the early-nineteenth century and in Child Murder and British Culture, 1720–1900,
Josephine McDonagh considers literary representations of male child-murderers in the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Both scholars suggest that murderous fathers
were treated unsympathetically, as savage tyrants.
6
Jill Newton Ainsley and Ginger Frost both argue that mothers who murdered their children
were shown leniency in comparison to fathers who were more likely to be punished.
7
Analysis of the case files of 60 paternal child-murderers who were found insane and
committed to Broadmoor between 1869 and 1900 suggests a different picture. An examination
of trial records, medical reports, psychiatric treatises and newspaper articles, questions
two previous assumptions of the literature on infanticide: first, that it was only
women who were thought to be going against nature if they killed their child; and
second, that only women regularly and successfully pleaded insanity in such cases.
8
The release of the Broadmoor records for public viewing in November 2008 allowed the
experience of its patients to be researched by historians for the first time. This
article considers how paternal child-murderers were treated within the asylum and
traces the experience of some patients from the time they committed child murder,
until they were released from Broadmoor.
9
An analysis of all of these sources not only demonstrates attitudes towards paternal
infanticide, but also discloses a surprising and valuable source of material illustrating
the kindness and affection of working-class fathers in the late nineteenth century.
Analyses of nineteenth-century art, census documents, fiction, employment records,
autobiographies, memoirs and legal cases have revealed a myriad of representations
of fatherhood in recent years.
10
This article enriches such research on nineteenth century fatherhood by showing that
working-class fathers were expected, and expected themselves, to be hardworking and
temperate, as well as to provide for and protect their children.
I.
Charles Dickens and other child-killers
In 1841 Charles Dickens murdered his literary offspring little Nell Trent. In the
days that followed the act, his real-life daughter, Mamie, later recalled:
like a father he mourned for his little girl – the child of his brain – and he writes:
‘I am, for the time, nearly dead with work and grief for the loss of my child’ […]
‘You can't imagine (gravely I write and speak) how exhausted I am to-day with yesterday's
labors [sic]. I went to bed last night utterly dispirited and done up. All night I
have been pursued by the child; and this morning I am unrefreshed and miserable. I
do not know what to do with myself'.
11
In his day-to-day life, Dickens was, according to Mamie, an extremely tender, affectionate
and loving father: ‘I can remember with us, his own children, how kind, considerate
and patient he was’
12
. Mid-to-late nineteenth-century discourse on fatherhood shows that attitudes towards
fatherhood were changing; the kind and affectionate father epitomized by Dickens was,
at least on paper, the expected norm.
13
In his article ‘Fathers', published in All the Year Round in 1865, Andrew Halliday
observed, ‘The British father has undergone a great metamorphosis of late’. The modern
father, he continued, ‘has relaxed his old severity aspect and become more human.
[…] Love and sympathy and intelligent communion have taken the place of a cold and
senseless severity’.
14
Thirty years later, in the advice manual Happy Homes and How to Make Them (1897),
J. W. Kirton declared that it was a man's duty to:
rock a cradle, nurse a baby, [and] play with his children […]. It is a grand thing
to have a romp with the children, and […] a man is not worthy to be a father who cannot
now and then play with them, or take an interest in their sports and education.
15
This was a popular message of marriage and courtship manuals while authors such as
Anthony Trollope wrote of devoted and caring fathers in their fiction.
16
A man was supposed to delight in his children and Charles Kingsley, following the
birth of his first child, declared ‘my little baby, the next link in the golden chain
of generations, begotten of our bliss’.
17
Research on fathers committed to Broadmoor for the murder of their children shows
that it was not only in Dickens's life and work that a connection between infanticide
and affection in the nineteenth century can be seen. The cases examined for this article
demonstrate that prior to committing their crime, many working-class men revelled
in their children; they nursed them, played with them, and were kind and affectionate
towards them. At Richard Hammett's trial, his son told the court that he ‘was always
very fond of us all—when we were ill he used to sit up with us at night and nurse
us'; Joseph Wood had murdered his infant daughter without motive, ‘being a very affectionate
father'; Frederick Crawley was ‘dotingly fond of the child’ he murdered; and at the
trials of William Robinson and William Brown, it was said they were both ‘very fond’
of the children they murdered.
18
They were all committed to Broadmoor.
The defence counsels of paternal child-murderers generally argued that because defendants
were affectionate and caring fathers they had no motive for committing the crime and
therefore should be considered insane. Henry Seyman murdered his son Harry in 1869,
and his defence argued:
Motive was of utmost importance, and that in the present case no motive had been shown.
[…] What! were they to believe that a kind father would at once throw off the bright
instincts of his heart, and all the better feelings of nature, and become in a moment
a cold blooded murderer?
The jury did not think so and found Seyman not guilty on the ground of insanity.
19
In 1884 Alfred Bligh murdered his three children. Bligh's defence told the court they
‘could not conceive any case which was any more an obvious, more flat, more flagrant,
contradiction of the natural tendencies of human nature than the act committed by
that man’.
20
Oonagh Walsh argues that female infanticide was considered antithetical to womanhood
and thus ‘[i]nfanticide was treated sympathetically because it was so contrary to
gendered expectations that it automatically implied an act of insanity’.
21
A close study of the Broadmoor cases suggests that the same can be said of paternal
child-murder: an act deemed so contrary to the expectations of fatherhood it was considered
a contradiction of human nature. Thus, a more nuanced understanding of how the meanings
of gender operated in child-murder trials is needed.
Increasing interest in the study of children from the 1870s initiated a shift in the
scientific community and men of science became more concerned with questions related
to fatherhood and the connection between men and children.
22
In his The Emotions and The Will (1875) Alexander Bain discussed the ‘Emotions of
Parents’. He observed that not only were fathers sensitive and loving, but that ‘[t]he
feeling of protectorship is cherished’ by them.
23
As Megan Doolittle suggests, the protection of children was embedded in constructions
of fatherhood and manliness. The cases from Broadmoor show that the delusions men
suffered revolved around their fear of being unable to live up to the expectation
that they would protect their child leading to the terrible paradox of killing a child
out of a desire to protect.
24
Edward Abbott, for example, killed his young daughter because he believed that his
imminent murder would leave her vulnerable and Henry Garrod murdered his daughter
because, having lost his money, he feared that she would grow up to lead ‘a bad life
[and] be killed by Jack the Ripper’.
25
It was the death of a child, as Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall suggest, that
brought out paternal feelings most strongly.
26
In Mary Elizabeth Braddon's novel The Fatal Three (1888), George Greswold is depicted
as the ideal husband and father, but following the death of his daughter Lola from
typhoid fever he is overwhelmed by grief and descends into madness.
27
Representations of childhood death and male madness in real-life cases mirrored fictional
tales. In 1875, James Senior murdered his ten-year-old daughter ‘in an attack of insanity’
driven by the ‘dread of losing [this] child who was […] seriously ill’ and in May
1890, Joseph Wood was tried for the murder of his three-week old daughter, Nelly,
after he suffered an attack of insanity following the death of his son.
28
At Wood's trial his mother, Ann, told the court that her grandson's illness had caused
Wood to be ‘very weak and bad in his head’ and when he visited her ‘he sat down and
cried’.
29
The inability to save their child from death and disease led to feelings of hopelessness
in both Senior and Wood and perhaps feelings of failure, just as in The Fatal Three
where, as Valerie Pedler suggests, since ‘George has prided himself on his […] paternal
devotion to Lola, her death seems to show a dismal proficiency in [this] respect’.
30
A man's failure to protect his child not only led to mental demise, but emasculation.
II.
Causes of crime and insanity: poverty and intemperance
Jill Newton Ainsley argues that the sympathy extended to mothers who killed their
children because they did not want to subject them to a life of poverty was absent
in cases of paternal infanticide.
31
The Broadmoor records, however, indicate that poverty drove a number of fathers as
well as mothers to murder their children: the fact they were sent to Broadmoor rather
than to the gallows also indicates that a certain degree of sympathy was extended
to them. John Tosh has highlighted the pressures Victorian fathers faced when it came
to providing financially for their families.
32
In his Ascent of Man (1899) Henry Drummond used evolutionary science to enforce the
notion that it was a father's prerogative to provide for his children:
He is not only protector but food-provider. It is impossible to believe that in process
of time the discharge of this office did not bring some faint satisfactions to himself,
that the mere sight of offspring fed instead of famished did not give him certain
pleasure. And though the pleasure at first may have been no more than the absence
of the annoyance they caused by the clamorousness of their want, it became a stimulus
to exertion, and led in the end to rudimentary forms of sympathy and self-denial.
33
A man's desire to provide for his family was viewed as innate, just like the need
to protect them. Alienists, such as Charles Mercier, agreed:
The onset of poverty and adversity, which could easily be borne if the individual
alone were concerned, may become a source of dangerous stress from the fact that it
will involve offspring also; and anxiety as to their fate under such circumstances
may be attended to by an amount of stress sufficient to produce insanity.
34
Henry Parker and Robert Hallowell both murdered their sons fearing they could not
provide for them. The widower Alfred Bligh murdered his three children because he
worried he would lose his job and subject them to a life of poverty.
35
It was suggested at the inquest following Bligh's arrest that monetary problems and
the impending affiliation of an illegitimate child weighed heavily on his mind.
36
These issues seemingly exacerbated the mental deterioration of this struggling single
father who, in his own words, had ‘been driven to do this’ for he could not ‘stand
it any longer’.
37
In Crime and its Causes (1891), criminologist and prison chaplain W. D. Morrison stated
‘it is probable’ that a man facing destitution ‘will commit crimes […] such as homicide
or assault’.
38
This is echoed in the case of Richard and Amy Oakes who, in 1890, poisoned their eight-year-old
son Arthur. In an attempt to explain the act, Richard Oakes wrote a letter to his
brother detailing his family's struggle to avoid destitution. In this ‘touching’ ‘letter
of despair', as it was referred to by the press, he described his struggle to find
work and explained that for the six weeks previous to the crime he had ‘travelled
from morning til night and not received one farthing’. He concluded, ‘[i]f that is
not enough to drive you mad – wickedly mad – I don't know what is'.
39
During the trial the defence argued that poverty had led the Oakes to become ‘partially,
if not wholly, demented’ which had prompted the act. The Oakes were found guilty but
insane and sent to Broadmoor.
40
These cases – and the fact the judiciary declared these crimes acts of insanity –
indicate the association of economic failure with personal failure in nineteenth-century
cultures of masculinity. Such instances suggest, I would argue, that the desire to
provide for one's family was not purely a bourgeois construct of masculinity, but
a paternal impulse shared by working-class men.
41
Melissa Gregory's analysis of representations of male infanticide in The Times during
the early nineteenth century draws attention to the prevalent image of working-class
fathers who had internalized their role as providers to such an extent that failure
to meet that expectation left child-murder as an alternative to starvation. Gregory
concludes that these reports ‘suggested that child-murder was the only way for him
to obliterate the pain he felt at his psychological emasculation’.
42
Such depictions continued to be common throughout the nineteenth century and the expectation
a man would provide for his child was not lost on middle-class juries and judges,
who sympathized with the struggles these working-class men faced. This emphasis in
the courtroom and the press on a man's failure to secure employment or to provide
for his child shifted attention from the murdered child to the father. In their studies
of infanticidal women Ann Higginbotham and Aeron Hunt suggest that journalistic and
judicial attributions of infanticide to illegitimacy and insanity deflected attention
from the actual cause of the crime, poverty.
43
Poverty was harder to ignore in the case of paternal child-murderers as defendants,
such as Oakes, sometimes referred to it themselves. The press, however, still managed
to avoid the issue by casting defendants as insane.
44
Thus a man's failure to provide for his family overshadowed the murder of his child
and turned him into an object of sympathy, whilst simultaneously emasculating him.
In was not just poverty that prevented men providing for their families; drunkenness
was also a problem. In 1897 physician George Wilson wrote ‘drunkenness is on the way
to mental death’ and in their 1905 report, the Commissioners in Lunacy stated that
alcohol was ‘brain poison'.
45
The detrimental effect of intemperance on the mental faculties had long been agreed
upon, not only by the medical profession, but also by the Temperance Movement which
spread the word that drinking degraded men ‘below the level of very brutes'.
46
Martin Wiener indicates that the Victorian crusade against drink meant drunkenness
received less tolerance from judges than it had done previously, especially in cases
of domestic violence.
47
When linked to insanity, however, drunkenness was often an aspect of the defence in
child-murder cases.
Alienists and physicians echoed the animalistic imagery of temperance literature.
L. Forbes Winslow wrote that the drunken man was reduced ‘to the level of the beast’
and described his ‘brutalizing habits'.
48
In The Drink Question: Its Social and Medical Aspects (1889), a work on temperance
aimed at the lay population, Kate Mitchell declared ‘no four-footed animal is capable
of showing such degraded tendencies, and such an utter want of decency, or committing
such unnameable offences as man in a state of intoxication'. It was during this time
that ‘the passions ride triumphant over reason’ and crimes were committed.
49
As if to prove this point, Joseph England ‘cut his child's throat (nearly severing
its head) with a table knife, in a fit of passion aggravated by hard drinking’ and
the ‘maniacal attack’ which led George Lockin to murder his two children was ‘brought
on by drink'.
50
A single dose of alcohol could disorder the intellect and pervert the moral sentiments,
meaning even the casual drinker was liable to ‘become perverted into the fiercest
of monsters’ whereby he ‘bursts into rage, seizes the readiest weapon […] is furious
and savage, strikes or stabs with double violence'.
51
To some alienists drunkenness was more than unrestricted impulses. In 1897 George
Wilson wrote:
Intoxication to the ordinary observer, is loss of self-control; to the physician,
it is the physiological effect of alcohol on the brain. Usually, drunkenness is merely
regarded as a vicious habit; scientifically, it is a reduction of mental capacity
due to deterioration of the brain tissue.
52
In line with this scientific approach, physicians established different forms of alcohol-induced
mental disease. This included delirium tremens, a form of temporary insanity classified
by T. Sutton in 1813, which by 1897 was considered ‘the most impressive and dramatic
of the alcoholic neuroses'.
53
Henry Seyman murdered his son following an attack of delirium tremens and was not
only represented as diseased but also emasculated by this condition. At his trial
Seyman's neighbours testified that they no longer witnessed the once loving father
playing with his son, nor had he been going to work.
54
Physicians and social commentators made distinctions between the normal man and the
drunkard. To the physician the intemperate madman was, as Charles Wilson wrote, ‘thoroughly
unmanned', for the incapacity for bodily and mental exertion led to business failure
and broken promises.
55
Insanity removed a man's capacity to be independent and, as in Seyman's case, to work,
provide for his family and thus be a good father. In his lecture ‘Courtship & Marriage;
or, Special Hints to the Single and Married’ the phrenologist, Reverend John William
Taylor warned his readers that intoxicated men transformed from kind and affectionate
fathers into cruel tyrants, who make the lives of their wives and children miserable.
56
Drinking removed men from the homes they were supposed to create and maintain. In
Happy Homes, J. W. Kirton dedicated a chapter to ‘The Public House, The Rival to Home’
and advised working-class men to spend their money on their home and families rather
than on alcohol.
57
III.
Broadmoor
Regardless of the cause of insanity, the case files suggest that murderous fathers
were depressed, regretful and introverted. It was the job of the medical officers
at Broadmoor to restore them to the confident, industrious and caring men they once
were. Although home to criminal lunatics, Broadmoor resembled many other asylums built
in the Victorian period and epitomized the Victorian obsession with moral management,
which recognized patients’ individual, social and occupational needs.
58
Patients’ insanity was to be remedied through friendly associations and purposeful
activities such as reading, exercise, cricket, croquet and chess. Male patients were
expected to work in the asylum and were employed at the shoemaker's shop or the tailors,
on the asylum farm, in the gardens or as bricklayers or carpenters.
59
Patients had to display industriousness in Broadmoor before any reference to their
potential release was made; they had to show that if they were discharged they would
be able to gain and maintain employment in order to provide for themselves and their
families. Thus Broadmoor promoted those attributes, including temperance and industriousness,
which had previously identified each of the patients examined here as good fathers.
The medical reports in patient case files show that when they were committed to Broadmoor,
the causes of insanity attributed to paternal child-murderers generally corresponded
with what had been argued at their trials and revolved around poverty domestic troubles
and intemperance. When committed, the majority of paternal child-murderers were downcast,
regretful and melancholic. Richard Bromley was sullen and unsettled, and preferred
‘a good rest’ to work in the bake house; George Wilson heard voices which caused him
‘nothing but misery and torment'.
60
Alfred Bligh was more troublesome. He was verbally aggressive, refused to get out
of bed and would not work. This led Medical Superintendent Dr. David Nicolson to report
to the Secretary of State that although Bligh was ‘well and strong physically', he
‘has steadily declined to work at any industrial occupation and is of a dissatisfied
and grumbling disposition – no doubt natural to him'. Nicolson feared other patients
would mimic Bligh's disruptive behaviour and described him as ‘a bad example to others
for a man of intelligence'.
61
He was condemned as lazy, marked as unindustrious, and was refused conditional discharge.
Bligh eventually settled down and was conditionally discharged on 2 February 1897
to the care of his sister and brother-in-law.
62
Bromley and Wilson worked and improved mentally and were discharged; Bromley to his
mother and Wilson to his wife. Joseph Wood and Robert Hallowell were also eventually
discharged after they too settled down and learnt a trade.
63
Obtaining discharge was more complex than proving one's ability to work and it was
particularly hard for patients with a history of intemperance. In 1898, three years
after his committal, Robert Jones was considered sane and the question of his discharge
was raised. During his time in Broadmoor Jones had been industrious, but Medical Superintendent
Brayn erred on the side of caution. He warned the Secretary of State that ‘although
[Jones] conducts himself satisfactorily under asylum supervision’ his history of intemperance
‘shows that he is of unstable mind’ and he ‘would be liable to relapse if exposed
to any worry or anxiety'.
64
Similar caution was taken in the case of Henry Seyman. A medical report from 1875
shows that Seyman ‘conducted himself well and has worked steadily in the garden',
he was also a ‘trusted performer in the asylum band', learned to read and write and,
for the eight months prior to July 1875, he ‘voluntarily abstained from [the] beer’
which was given to patients at dinner.
65
In spite of his sanity and good behaviour, caution was advised because his ‘insanity
and his crime were caused by intemperance’ and thus ‘[s]imilar events might at any
future time ensue should he again give way to drinking habits'.
66
Broadmoor's Medical Superintendent and the Home Office wanted to be certain that there
was minimal risk of patients returning to drink and to ensure that, if released, they
were discharged into the care of relatives who would enforce temperance. Seyman's
ability to control his temperance, for example, was dependent on ‘the most stringent
watchfulness and care on the part of his friends'.
67
He was conditionally discharged in August 1877 to the care of his brother.
68
By the time Jones was released into the care of the Salvation Army in 1902, the insanity
which followed drinking was considered a ‘real burden to the state'. Patients were
discharged into a society in which alcohol was increasingly linked to concerns of
racial fitness and national efficiency.
69
Not only did the friends and relatives of patients have to accept an added ‘Drink
Clause’ to the terms of conditional discharge, but patients also had to take ‘The
Pledge’ and sign the following statement:
I hereby solemnly promise that, in the event of my conditional discharge from Broadmoor
Asylum being sanctioned, I will abstain from all intoxicating drink; and I fully and
clearly understand that such discharge will be liable to be revoked at any moment
if I fail to keep to the above promise.
70
If these promises were broken, the warrant of conditional discharge was revoked and
the patient returned to Broadmoor.
The period between patients’ arrival and discharge varied. The admission registers
for Broadmoor do not list the exact crimes of all the patients committed, but an approximation
of the average confinement of child murderers can be established using details of
the stays of 85 male child-murderers committed between 1868 and 1900 and 191 female
child-murderers committed between 1871 and 1900 recorded in the registers. Those paternal
child-murderers who were conditionally discharged spent an average of eleven years
in Broadmoor, whilst their female counterparts spent an average of ten years in the
asylum. Maternal child-murderers were 1.5 times more likely to be discharged than
paternal child-murderers (Table 1). In his study of the discharge of infanticidal
women from Broadmoor and Perth asylum, Jonathan Andrews shows that once some women
had passed childbearing age and the risk of puerperal insanity they were no longer
deemed a threat to society and were discharged.
71
There was no similar way to assess the threat paternal child-murderers posed which
may explain their lower discharge rate in comparison to maternal child-murderers.
The discharge figures for the overall Broadmoor population between 1863 and 1900,
though, indicate that women were three times more likely to be discharged than men
(Table 2). This suggests that sex was less influential in determining the release
of female infanticidal patients than in other criminal lunacy cases. Both men and
women who killed their children had a better chance of release than the average Broadmoor
patient of the same gender, but having murdered one's own child appears to have made
more difference to a man's chance of release than to a woman's: paternal child-murderers
were 3.1 times more likely to be discharged than the average male, whilst maternal
child-murderers were 1.7 times more likely to be discharged than the average female
patient. A patient's release was of course dependent upon factors other than sex or
crime: their mental and physical wellbeing whilst in the asylum and the availability
of friends or relatives willing and able to care for patients upon their discharge
were also taken into consideration by the medical officers and by the Home Office.
Table 1.
Duration child-murderers stayed in Broadmoor and mode of release, 1868–1900.
Non-paternal child-murderers (21)
Paternal child-murderers (58)
Men who killed their wife and child (5)
Man who killed wife and grandchild (1)
Non-maternal child-murderers (5)
Maternal child-murderers (186)
% discharged from Broadmoor
19
28
20
–
0
42
Mean time before discharge (years)
10
11
20
–
–
10
% transferred to another asylum
5
22
40
–
40
15
Mean time before transfer (years)
15
26
11
–
19
21
% who committed suicide
5
2
–
–
–
1
Mean Time before suicide (years)
28
1
–
–
–
4
% who died in Broadmoor
71
45
40
100
40
41
Mean time before death (years)
20
22
19
5
22
28
% transferred to Prison
–
–
–
–
20
1
Mean time before transfer (years)
–
–
–
–
2
1
Unknown
–
–
–
–
–
1
Table 2.
Means by which all patients were discharged from Broadmoor, 1863–1900.
Women
Men
% Absolutely Discharged (sane)
2
2
% Conditionally Discharged
23
7
% Died
36
40
% Escaped
–
–
% Not Stated
5
5
% Removed
1
–
% Suicide
–
1
% Transferred to an Asylum
30
38
% Transferred to Prison
2
6
Fathers who had been kind, attentive, hardworking, and temperate prior to murdering
their children tended to be found insane when tried for their murder. Once in Broadmoor,
it was these same positive characteristics echoing nineteenth-century descriptions
of ideal fatherhood that helped determine their discharge from the asylum. Comparing
the representation of insane fathers with that two other groups of men who murdered
children – childless men and convicted fathers – makes clear just how important nineteenth-century
beliefs about fatherhood were in the treatment of child-murder cases.
IV.
Male child-murderers in the late-Victorian press and Old Bailey Proceedings Online
Research by A. J. Hammerton, Ginger Frost and Martin Wiener indicates that Victorian
judges attempted to improve working-class behaviour through the courts by condemning
violent behaviour as unmanly.
72
My research on male child-murderers supports this broad conclusion. The working and
middle classes were intolerant not only of the domestic abuse of women, as scholars
have shown, but also that inflicted on children. An examination of press reports and
Old Bailey Proceedings Online (OBPO) shows that the nature of the crimes committed
by childless men and convicted fathers, their motivations for the crime, their previous
character, and demeanour in the courtroom were all subject to scrutiny. In condemning
the behaviour of these men the press, judges, and juries helped to define appropriate
male behaviour, including what made a good father.
Press representations of child murder differed according to who committed the crime:
insane paternal child-murderers tended to be described as pensive and quiet, whereas
childless men were seen as savage beasts fuelled by passion. On 29 November 1895,
Robert Jones was tried for the murder of Robert Edward Jones, his two-and-a-half-year-old
son. He was found insane. On the morning of the crime, Jones got out of bed when one
of his three children sleeping in the next room began to cry and, according to the
Huddersfield Daily Chronicle, returned soon after ‘to horrify his wife with the cool
statement, “I have killed Robert’”.
73
The principal witness was Jones's six-year-old daughter who shared a bedroom with
her younger brother and sister. She told the court:
On Saturday morning I woke up. I heard my brother make a noise in his throat as if
he was going to be sick. I then saw some blood about him. He was lying at the side
of the bed. His head was hanging down, and my father was stooping over him. […] My
father went out of the room after that, and left my brother at the foot of the bed.
I said, ‘Father, what are you doing’. He did not answer.
74
Jones's quiet, calm completion of the crime was a familiar scene. After Henry Seyman
murdered his child, his neighbours heard him calmly say to his wife ‘Go and look at
Harry; he is dead'.
75
Neither Frederick Crawley nor Richard Hammett spoke or moved when discovered with
their dead children by their wives and Alfred Bligh convinced his housekeeper to go
to the circus before murdering his children at home, alone.
76
This differed from the crimes of childless men who committed the act in public. John
Jordan, Ernest Travers and Frank Brearley, for example, all murdered young children
outside; Travers and Brearley did so in front of witnesses. The acts of childless
men were reportedly violent and brutal. Various newspapers reported that Hugh Hagan,
who murdered the illegitimate child of his cousin's wife, visited his cousin one afternoon
and when the child began to cry ‘he immediately burst into a rage, snatched the child
from its brother's arms, opened the bed-room door, and “clashed” it upon the bed'.
77
And Frank Brearley was depicted by the Derby Mercury as abnormally strong: although
‘a man and woman had endeavoured to prevent him from murdering the girl […] he proved
too strong for them and made a violent attack'.
78
The brutal acts of these men immediately placed them outside the bounds of acceptable
masculine behaviour. They were condemned in the press, in the courtroom, and by the
public. Travers's case caused such controversy that the police had to take precautions
against hostile demonstrations outside the courtroom and his appearance at the pretrial
inquest was met with ‘hooting and groans’ from the crowd outside.
79
According to press and medical reports, the motivations of non-paternal child murderers
stemmed from deep-seated hostility. John Jordan, for instance, was reported in the
press to have murdered out of revenge. Hugh Hagan was initially sentenced to death
but was reprieved after two alienists, including Broadmoor's Dr. William Orange, examined
him and concluded that ‘intense hatred’ had caused his insanity and thus his crime.
80
Compared to the pleas of poverty or grief made in the trials of fathers who were eventually
found insane for the murder of their child, these were unlikely to induce any sympathy
from the press or in the courtroom.
Fathers convicted for the murder of their child were reportedly driven by similar
motives to childless men. The love and devotion insane paternal child-murderers had
shown to their children prior to murdering them led some defence counsels’ to brand
the crime motiveless.
81
The same was not argued during the trials of convicted fathers. An analysis of OBPO
indicates that a number of fathers convicted for the murder of their child had previously
abused and neglected their wives and children. Walter Marsh's neighbour ‘begged him
[…] to take care of his family', while James Cole was depicted as a violent habitual
criminal who abused his wife and both John Richard Jefferey's and Clarence Longman's
mothers-in-law told the courtroom at their trials that the men had verbally abused
their children.
82
Longman, for example, ‘did not seem to treat the child very kindly’ he called ‘the
child a little sod more than once. I never saw him hold it in his arms and appear
quite pleased with it'. Longman also refused to work.
83
Whereas hatred and a general disregard for the wellbeing of their child were perceived
to motivate these fathers, others were seen to be led by deceit. On 25 August 1879,
James Dilley was executed for the murder of his three-week old daughter. Dilley had
a wife and family in Bedfordshire and a mistress, a domestic servant named Mary Rainbow,
with whom he had fathered the child, in London. Both Dilley and Rainbow were charged
with the murder, but Rainbow was reprieved after the Home Secretary accepted that
Dilley had coerced her into helping him commit the crime. At the trial, Dilley was
portrayed by Rainbow's defence as a ‘dastardly and cruel’ man whose seduction had
ruined Rainbow's reputation. His adultery and the consequent neglect of his wife and
children, along with his alleged coercion of Rainbow to murder their illegitimate
child, did not invoke sympathy either from the press or in the courtroom. According
to the judge, Dilley's was a deliberate act of murder, motivated by his wish ‘to prevent
the fact of the birth of the woman becoming known to his wife, and to escape the burden
of having to support it'.
84
And, echoing press reactions to childless murderers, the judge told Dilley during
sentencing that his crime was ‘a base, a cruel, and barbarous murder'.
85
Convicted fathers thus feature in the Old Bailey trial proceedings as men deficient
in what was understood as the innate desire to provide for and protect their children.
Paternal infanticide was considered a ‘sad tragedy’ by the press and headlines such
as ‘A Father's Terrible Crime’ and ‘A Father's Awful Crime’ reinforced this representation.
86
Insane paternal child-murderers were depicted in the press as remorseful, withered
wrecks. The Pall Mall Gazette reported that when Robert Jones left court ‘five policemen
had to support the wretched man, who was in a state of utter collapse, and pathetically
enquired whether his little son was dead'.
87
William Kemp was ‘so prostrated that a medical man remained with him in the dock,
and [he] was kept in a state of consciousness by the repeated application of stimulants'.
88
Kemp also ‘sat with his face buried in his hands’ and ‘occasionally shed tears', as
did Richard Hammett and Richard Oakes.
89
Frederick Crawley ‘cried piteously’ during his trial and Henry Seyman ‘covered his
face with a handkerchief, and at times cried very bitterly'.
90
Childless men and convicted fathers, by contrast, featured as ‘culprits’ and murderers
under headlines such as ‘Shocking Child Murder', ‘Barbarous Murder', and ‘Horrible
Murder'.
91
Press representations of childless men during their trials differed from the emotional
father. Few references were made to Hugh Hagan's demeanour during his trial other
than his propensity for passionate violence, John Jordan was ‘cool and collected',
and Ernest Travers was ‘indifferent’ to the frightful evidence produced against him.
92
Newspaper reports and trial transcripts support the argument that paternal infanticide
was commonly construed as so counter to ‘natural’ affections that it was clear grounds
for a plea of insanity. Childless men who killed children were vilified in the press.
A father's murder of his child was, by contrast, judged according to the perception
of motive and previous performance of fatherly duty. Comparison of press representations
of insane paternal child-murderers and convicted fathers suggests that the press endorsed
a specific paternal identity, with protection and provision, love, temperance and
industriousness at its core. The court provided legal reinforcement of such notions:
judges and juries condemned the behaviour of convicted fathers who had fallen short
of such ideals and tended to see fathers who had previously conformed to notions of
appropriate fatherhood as insane.
When childless men were found insane, which sometimes happened following their conviction,
the negative representations of them found in the press and in the courtroom were
echoed in Broadmoor. Ernest Travers was described by Medical Superintendent Dr. Richard
Brayn as ‘a most plausible, cunning, unscrupulous man, in whom neither the staff nor
his fellow patients place any trust or confidence’.
93
The depictions of John Jordan, Hugh Hagan and Frank Brearley in Broadmoor were similar:
they were all represented as wild, dangerous, and threatening; a stark contrast to
the depiction of insane fathers who were melancholic and downcast, although well behaved
and industrious.
94
Paternal child-murderers were 1.5 times more likely to be discharged from Broadmoor
than childless men who killed children. Moreover, 71% of non-paternal child murderers
committed to the asylum died in confinement in comparison to 45% of paternal child-murderers
(Table 1).
95
The previous behaviour of insane paternal child-murderers and their demeanour within
Broadmoor may explain why they were more likely to be conditionally discharged or
transferred to another asylum than childless men.
The trials and verdicts discussed in this article indicate the widespread support
and enforcement of a specific model of fatherhood in the Victorian period: loving,
caring, temperate and playful, with the desire and drive to financially support and
protect one's child. The horror witnesses expressed at the way convicted fathers had
previously addressed their children and a neighbour's concern that the intemperate
Henry Seyman had stopped playing with his child, indicates that members of the working
classes expected fathers to adhere to this model of fatherhood. Insane paternal child-murderers
were represented as having accepted what it meant to be a good father and as having
committed the crime because of their perceived or real failings in this respect. It
was not portrayed as an act borne out of the desire to conceal deceit, nor was it
committed in anger or out of revenge, as was the case for convicted child murderers.
Rather, it was a selfless act carried out in a state of depression, alone and silently:
a final act of mercy for the child they feared doomed to destitution, failure or murder.
V.
Conclusion
Meg Arnot has argued that, in comparison to men, infanticidal women were rarely convicted
and hanged in nineteenth-century Britain.
96
But some women were convicted and an examination of these cases highlights some interesting
parallels between cases of male and female infanticide. In 1870 two baby-farmers,
Margaret Waters and Sarah Ellis, were tried at the Old Bailey for murder, manslaughter,
conspiracy and obtaining money under false pretences after one child in their care
died and others were found dirty and emaciated. Waters, a childless widow whose motivation
for caring for children was considered financial, was convicted and hanged. Ellis,
a married (but separated) mother of one, was convicted of the lesser charge of obtaining
money under false pretences and sentenced to eighteen months hard labour. Arnot argues
that this case ‘emphasised the privilege given to natural mothers’ and suggested that
because Ellis was ‘fulfilling the duty of motherhood’ she was spared the capital conviction.
97
But a careful study of representations of murderous fathers suggests that attitudes
towards paternal child-murder were more similar to those expressed in cases of female
infanticide than has been supposed. The evidence suggests that childless men, bad
fathers and neglectful husbands, were convicted and sometimes hanged for child murder,
but if it could be shown that infanticidal men had previously fulfilled their duties
as husbands and fathers, they tended to be considered insane and committed to Broadmoor.