My latest novel,No Stone Unturned, is the first in my Victorian mystery series featuring Lucy Lawrence. As I started to research, I stumbled across the story of the famous Kashmiri sapphires. I could not believe my luck. It is a fascinating story and got me thinking: what would a scurrilous Victorian rascal do if he got his hands on some …
Treasure in the Hills: A mountainous region of Kashmir, known as Padar, held a fabulous secret. It is a remote region high in the Himalayas, well off the beaten track. Various stories abound as to how it finally revealed its treasure-trove; some say a landslide, others that hunters or travellers came across the first stones lying on the ground. Not knowing what they were, the gems were traded for salt and other supplies in Delhi. Eventually, they were sold on to someone who recognised they were rough sapphires. Many transactions followed until they eventually turned up in Calcutta.
The news of this transaction got back to the maharajah in Kashmir, who discovered the sapphires had originated in his area. Extremely annoyed, he went to Calcutta and demanded them back. Every single transaction in the long train had to be undone. Each man who had sold the sapphires gave back what he paid, and so it went through many towns, until at Delhi, a merchant received back a few bags of salt (not his lucky day!).
Still miffed, the Maharajah of Kashmir sent a regiment of sepoys to take control of the mines to ensure no more precious stones went astray. During the life of the mines, the yield was disappointingly low and commercial mining ceased early in the 20th century. Their rarity and the fact they are exceptionally beautiful, with a texture like velvet, has led them to be the most prized and expensive sapphires in the world.
No Stone Unturnedis the first book in the Lucy Lawrence Mystery Series.
A suspicious death, stolen gems and an unclaimed reward: who will be the victor in a deadly game of cat and mouse?
London October 1886: Trapped in a troubled marriage, Lucy Lawrence is ripe for an adventure. But when she meets the enigmatic Phineas Stone, over the body of her husband in the mortuary, her world begins to fall apart.
When her late husband’s secrets spill from the grave and her life is threatened by the leader of London’s most notorious gang, Lucy must find the strength to rise to the challenge. But who can she trust and how is she to stay out of the murderous clutches of London’s most dangerous criminal?
This evening in the Library we have Dianne Freeman, who has dropped in to say hello and to share some insights into her life as an author.
A special welcome to you, Dianne. I love to chat with historical fiction authors, particularly those who write in the same time period as I do. Please tell us a little about yourself:
I’m a life-long book lover who retired from the world of corporate finance to pursue my passion for writing. After co-authoring the non-fiction book, Haunted Highway, The Spirits of Route 66, I realized my true love was fiction, historical mystery in particular. I also realized I didn’t like winter very much so now my husband and I pursue the endless summer by splitting our time between Michigan and Arizona.
Did you read much as a child? Are you an avid reader now? Do you prefer books in your own genre or are you happy to explore others?
When I was about eight years old, my family moved to a house about 3 blocks from the public library and I’ve been an avid reader ever since. I don’t get to read quite as much now as I used to but while historical mystery is my favorite genre, I enjoy all varieties of historical fiction and most types of mystery.
Are you self-published or traditionally published?
I’m traditionally published with Kensington Books.
Which genre do you write in and why?
I write historical mystery with a bit of humor. I started with this genre because it’s what I love to read. I continued because I enjoy digging into the late Victorian era, plotting a crime, then creating a story around it. I love leaving clues then leading readers in the wrong direction with a scattering of red-herrings.
Who has been the biggest influence on your writing?
I like to think if Janet Evanovich and Edith Wharton had ever been able to collaborate, they might have come up with a main character like my Frances Wynn. (I also like to think there are no calories in food eaten while standing so what do I know?) But I’ve definitely been influenced by Evanovich’s humor and the elite world of Wharton’s books.
Has your country of origin/culture influenced your writing?
I’d imagine it must have, but not in anyway I could define.
What part of the writing process do you find most difficult? How do you overcome it?
I write in drafts, so every time I have to return to page one and start the next draft I have a moment of dread that I won’t be able to fix whatever is wrong. I’ve found if I print the draft and read it through first, maybe jotting a few (hundred) notes, I realize it’s not that bad and I can tackle whatever problems it presents.
Do you have a favourite time of day to write?
Late afternoon is my favorite time, but I like to take a walk to think about what I need to write before I sit down and actually do it, so sometimes weather can interfere with my writing schedule.
What is the best thing about being an author? And the flipside – what is the worst?
I have a feeling this is a common answer, but I love the whole process of writing—the research, plotting, spinning a tale—it’s like traveling to another world. Marketing and promoting aren’t all bad, they can actually be fun, but they really take up a lot of time.
Is social media an essential chore or something you enjoy? Which forum do you prefer?
I do enjoy social media, but as mentioned above, it can be so time consuming. My favorite way to distract myself would be Facebook.
If you weren’t an author, what would you be up to?
I’m retired so I’d go back to doing whatever I want, which would include plenty of reading, gardening, and maybe I’d even learn how to cook.
It’s the last day and the earth is facing oblivion – what book would you read?
Pride and Prejudice – again. At least I already know how it ends in case I don’t get to finish it.
Please tell us what you are working on and your latest published work.
I’m currently working on book three of The Countess of Harleigh Mysteries. Book one, A Lady’s Guide to Etiquette and Murderreleased in June, 2018.
The story takes place in London in 1899. Frances Wynn, Countess of Harleigh, is a widow dealing with a high society burglar, a marriage-mad sister, and a murder. When the London season turns deadly, she fears one of her sister’s suitors may be the killer. Frances must rally her wits and a circle of gossiping friends and enemies to unmask the culprit before she becomes his next victim.
It all starts with a great story idea; that light bulb moment. You can’t wait to sit down and start writing. This is far too easy, you think … until it all goes pear-shaped. Continue reading “First Draft Blues”→
London born Henry Edgar, had the dubious honour of earning the nickname, in police circles, of ‘Edgar the Escaper’. Unfortunately, no photograph exists, but he was described by the police as five feet seven, of fair complexion with large features, brown hair and a gentlemanly appearance. Not being a particularly successful thief, he did become famous for being difficult to hold; he was often caught but somehow always managed to escape. Continue reading “The Unfortunate Career of Henry Edgar, Cat Burglar (1811-?)”→
The terrible crime at Richmond at last, On Catherine Webster now has been cast, Tried and found guilty she is sentenced to die. From the strong hand of justice she cannot fly. She has tried all excuses but of no avail, About this and murder she’s told many tales, She has tried to throw blame on others as well, But with all her cunning at last she has fell.
One of the most notorious crimes of the late Victorian era in Britain was the murder of Julia Martha Thomas by her Irish maid, Kate Webster in March 1879. A widow, Julia Thomas lived at 2 Mayfield Cottages on Park Road in Richmond. It was a quiet and respectable area. A small, well-dressed lady of about fifty, Julia was said to have had an excitable temperament and was regarded by many as eccentric. She was not particularly wealthy, but she always dressed up and wore jewellery to give the impression of prosperity. Her employment of a live-in maid was more to do with status than practicality. However, she had a reputation for being a harsh employer and she had difficulty finding and retaining servants.
Kate Webster was born as Kate Lawler in County Wexford, Ireland, around 1849. She was said to be “a tall, strongly-made woman of about 5 feet 5 inches in height with sallow and much freckled complexion and large and prominent teeth.” Much of her early life is unclear but she claimed to have been married to a sea captain called Webster by whom she had four children, all of whom died, as did her husband, within a short time of each other. She was imprisoned for theft in Wexford in December 1864, when she was only about 15 years old. She moved to England in 1867 and fell into a life of crime, being frequently imprisoned for robbery. However, she was recommended as a maid to Julia Thomas by someone who had employed her temporarily. Julia engaged her immediately without checking out her character or past.
Their relationship rapidly deteriorated with Julia disliking the quality of Kate Webster’s work. Kate said of Julia Thomas: “At first I thought her a nice old lady … but I found her very trying, and she used to do many things to annoy me during my work. When I had finished my work in my rooms, she used to go over it again after me, and point out places where she said I did not clean, showing evidence of a nasty spirit towards me.” The situation reached a crisis point and it was arranged that Kate Webster would leave Julia’s service on 28th February. Julia recorded her decision in what was to be her last diary entry: “Gave Katherine warning to leave.”
But Kate persuaded her employer to give her a few days grace until Sunday 2nd March. She had Sunday afternoons off as a half-day and was expected to return in time to help Julia prepare for evening service. But Webster returned late, delaying Julia’s departure. The two women argued and several members of the congregation later reported that Julia had appeared “very agitated” on arriving at the church. Julia returned home and confronted Webster. According to Webster’s eventual confession:
“Mrs. Thomas came in and went upstairs. I went up after her, and we had an argument, which ripened into a quarrel, and in the height of my anger and rage I threw her from the top of the stairs to the ground floor. She had a heavy fall, and I became agitated at what had occurred, lost all control of myself, and, to prevent her screaming and getting me into trouble, I caught her by the throat, and in the struggle she was choked, and I threw her on the floor.”
The neighbours heard a single thump like that of a chair falling over but paid no heed to it at the time. Next door, Webster began disposing of the body by dismembering it and boiling it in the laundry copper and burning the bones in the hearth. The neighbours later said that they had noticed an unusual and unpleasant smell. However, the activity at 2 Mayfield Cottages did not seem to be out of the ordinary, as Monday was traditionally wash day. Over the next couple of days Webster continued to clean the house and Thomas’ clothes and put on a show of normality for people who called. Behind the scenes she was putting Thomas’ dismembered remains into a black Gladstone bag and a wooden bonnet-box. These were disposed of in the Thames. She was unable to fit the murdered woman’s head and one of the feet into the containers and disposed of them separately, throwing the foot onto a rubbish heap in Twickenham. The head was buried under the Hole in the Wall pub’s stables a short distance from Julia’s’ house, where it was found 131 years later.
However, the next day, the box was found washed up in shallow water next to the river bank about a mile downstream. The discovery was immediately reported to the police. Around the same time, the foot and ankle were also found. Although it was clear that all of the remains belonged to the same corpse, there was nothing to connect them and no means to identify the remains. The doctor who examined the body parts erroneously attributed them to “a young person with very dark hair”. An inquest returned an open verdict and the unidentified remains were laid to rest in Barnes Cemetery on 19 March. The newspapers dubbed the unexplained murder the “Barnes Mystery”, amid speculation that the body had been used for dissection and anatomical study.
Webster continued to live at 2 Mayfield Cottages while posing as Julia Thomas, wearing her late employer’s clothes and dealing with tradesmen under her newly assumed identity. On 9 March she reached an agreement with John Church, a local publican, to sell Thomas’ furniture and other goods. By the time the removal vans arrived on 18 March, the neighbours were becoming increasingly suspicious as they had not seen Julia for nearly two weeks. Her next-door neighbour, Miss Ives, asked the deliverymen who had ordered the goods removed. They replied “Mrs. Thomas” and indicated Webster. Realising that she had been exposed, Webster fled. The police were called in and searched 2 Mayfield Cottages. There they discovered blood stains, burned finger-bones in the hearth and fatty deposits behind the copper, as well as a letter left by Webster giving her home address in Ireland. They immediately put out a “wanted” notice giving a description of Webster.
Scotland Yard detectives soon discovered that Webster had fled back to Ireland. The head constable of the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC) in Wexford realised that the woman being sought by Scotland Yard was the same person whom his force had arrested 14 years previously for larceny. The RIC were able to trace her to her uncle’s farm near Enniscorthy and arrested her there on 29 March. She was escorted back to England to stand trial.
The murder caused a sensation on both sides of the Irish Sea. When the news broke, many people travelled to Richmond to look at Mayfield Cottages. The crime was just as notorious in Ireland; as Webster travelled under arrest from Enniscorthy to Dublin, crowds gathered to gawk and jeer at her at nearly every station between the two locations. The pre-trial magistrates’ hearings were attended by many. Webster went on trial at the Old Bailey on 2 July 1879. The prosecution was led by the Solicitor General, Sir Hardinge Giffard. Webster was defended by a prominent London barrister, Warner Sleigh, and the case was presided over by Mr. Justice Denman. The trial drew intense interest from all levels of society; on the fourth day, the Crown Prince of Sweden – the future King Gustaf V – turned up to watch the proceedings.
Over the course of six days, the court heard a succession of witnesses piecing together the complicated story of how Thomas had met her death. Webster had attempted before the trial to implicate the publican John Church and her former neighbour Porter, but both men had solid alibis and were cleared of any involvement in the murder. She pleaded not guilty and her defence sought to emphasise the circumstantial nature of the evidence and highlighted her devotion to her son as a reason why she could not have been capable of the murder. However, Webster’s public unpopularity, impassive demeanour and scanty defence counted strongly against her. A particularly damning piece of evidence came from a bonnetmaker named Maria Durden who told the court that Webster had visited her a week before the murder and had said that she was going to Birmingham to sell some property, jewellery and a house that her aunt had left her. The jury interpreted this as a sign that Webster had premeditated the murder and convicted her after deliberating for about an hour and a quarter.
Shortly after the jury returned its verdict and just before the judge was about to pass sentence, Webster was asked if there was any reason why sentence of death should not be passed upon her. She pleaded that she was pregnant in an apparent bid to avoid the death penalty. The Law Times reported that “upon this a scene of uncertainty, if not of confusion, ensued, certainly not altogether in harmony with the solemnity of the occasion.” The judge commented that “after thirty-two years in the profession, he was never at an inquiry of this sort.” Eventually the Clerk of Assizes suggested using the archaic mechanism of a jury of matrons, constituted from a selection of the women attending the court, to rule upon the question of whether Webster was “with quick child”. Twelve women were sworn in along with a surgeon named Bond, and they accompanied Webster to a private room for an examination that only took a couple of minutes. They returned a verdict that Webster was not “quick with child.”
Before she was executed, Webster made two statements. The first was false in which she tried to implicate two others; the second in which she took full responsibility. She was hanged the following day at Wandsworth Prison at 9 am, where the hangman, William Marwood, used his newly developed “long drop” technique to cause instantaneous death. She was buried in an unmarked grave in one of the prison’s exercise yards. The crowd waiting outside cheered as a black flag was raised over the prison walls, signifying that the death sentence had been carried out.
The trial was a sensation and was widely reported in the press, both in Ireland and Britain. Within weeks of her arrest, and well before she had gone to trial, Madame Tussaud’s created a wax effigy of her and put it on display for those who wished to see the “Richmond Murderess”. It remained on display well into the twentieth century. Within days of her execution an enterprising publisher rushed into print a souvenir booklet for the price of a penny, “The Life, Trial and Execution of Kate Webster. The Illustrated Police News published a souvenir cover depicting an artist’s impression of the day of the execution. The case was also commemorated, while it was still ongoing, by street ballads—musical narratives set to the tune of popular songs.
Webster herself was characterised as malicious, reckless and wilfully evil. Servants were expected to be deferential; her act of extreme violence towards her employer was deeply disquieting. At the time, about 40% of the female labour force was employed as domestic servants for a very wide range of society. Servants and employers lived and worked in close proximity, and the honesty and orderliness of servants was a constant cause of concern.
Another cause of revulsion against Webster was her attempt to impersonate her dead employer for two weeks, implying that middle-class identity amounted to little more than cultivating the right demeanour and having the appropriate clothes and possessions, whether or not they had been earned.
Perhaps most disturbingly for many Victorians, Webster was seen as having violated the expected norms of femininity. Victorian women were supposed to be moral, passive and physically weak. Webster was seen as quite the opposite and her appearance and behaviour were seen as key signs of her inherently criminal nature. Her behaviour in court and her sexual history also counted against her. Being Irish was a significant factor in the widespread revulsion felt towards Webster in Great Britain. The depiction of Webster as “hardly human” was of a piece with the public and judicial perceptions of the Irish as innately criminal.
In 1952, the naturalist David Attenborough and his wife Jane bought a house situated between the former Mayfield Cottages (which still stand today) and the Hole in the Wall pub. The pub closed in 2007 and fell into dereliction but was bought by Attenborough in 2009 to be redeveloped. On 22 October 2010, workmen carrying out excavation work at the rear of the old pub uncovered what turned out to be a woman’s skull. It was immediately speculated that the skull was the missing head of Julia Martha Thomas, and the coroner asked Richmond police to carry out an investigation into the identity and circumstances of death of the skull’s owner. Carbon dating found that it was dated between 1650 and 1880, but it had been deposited on top of a layer of Victorian tiles. The skull had fracture marks consistent with Webster’s account of throwing Thomas down the stairs, and it was found to have low collagen levels, consistent with it being boiled. In July 2011, the coroner concluded that the skull was indeed that of Thomas. DNA testing was not possible as she had died childless and no relatives could be traced; in addition, there was no record of where the rest of her body had been buried.
The coroner recorded a verdict of unlawful killing, superseding the open verdict recorded in 1879. The cause of Thomas’s death was given as asphyxiation and a head injury. The police called the outcome, “a good example of how good old-fashioned detective work, historical records and technological advances came together to solve the Barnes Mystery.”
There is a small island, situated just off the north Dublin coastal town of Howth, that is as famous for its outline, as it is for a ‘murder’ in 1852.
William Bourke Kirwan was a Dublin miniaturist and anatomical artist. He married Maria Louisa Crowe in 1840. On the surface William Kirwan lived a charmed life. He was a prosperous businessman, and a successful artist with a charming and handsome wife. The only fly in the ointment was that there were no children from the marriage. In the summer of 1852, the couple rented rooms at the seaside village of Howth. While there, they took several boat trips out to Ireland’s Eye, where Kirwan spent his time sketching and Maria liked to go swimming.
On the 6th of September, William and Maria went to the island again for the day. Other visitors to the island saw and spoke to them and they were even offered lifts back to Howth, but both said that they were waiting for the evening boat to fetch them.
When Patrick Nangle, the boatman arrived, William Kirwan was standing on the shore alone. He told Patrick he hadn’t seen Maria for hours and had been searching for her. The pair continued to search until it was almost dark. It was Patrick who discovered Maria’s body lying on the rocks in a cove known as the Long Hole. It was a tragic accident – or so everyone initially believed.
The rumour mill began to work. William and Maria had been overheard having arguments in their lodging in Howth, and a neighbour from Merrion Street said that William used to beat her (which her mother, under oath, denied). Eventually, suspicion turned in William’s direction. When the Dublin Metropolitan police came to arrest him, the same day Maria’s body was exhumed in October, they discovered his mistress in the house on Merion Street, with some of their 7 children – Kirwan had been leading a double life!
The trial, which began on 8th December 1852, was a sensation and the crowds so large that the street outside Green Street courthouse was blocked all day. The trial lasted 3 days and was reported widely in the international press. The prosecution made a great play on the fact that William had a second family and claimed that his wife had recently found out and that was why William had murdered her. However, during the trial, witnesses for the Defence claimed that Maria had known all along about her husband’s mistress, Miss Kenny. Miss Kenny made a statement to the effect that the women had known about each other, but it is unclear if this was made known to the jury. The medical witness said that although the body was decomposing by the time he examined it, there were no signs of physical trauma other than those you would expect to see if a body was washed up on the rocks. It also transpired that Maria was epileptic (her maid recounted seeing her having seizures) and the doctor admitted that she could well have had a seizure while swimming.
The jury was discharged and after twenty minutes came back to say they could not envisage reaching an agreement. The judge told them to try again and when they still couldn’t agree he said that they would have to be locked up for the night without food (!!) until they reached a decision. Thirty minutes later they came back with a ‘Guilty’ verdict (which is hardly surprising). The following day, William was found guilty and sentenced to hang and in the dock he proclaimed his innocence. Perhaps there was a general unease about the verdict but eventually Lord Eglinton, the then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, commuted the sentence to penal servitude for life. William served 27 years in Spike Island prison off the coast of Cork. He made frequent petitions to be released and was finally released on Licence in January 1879 and went to Queenstown (or Cobh in Cork) and boarded a ship to America to join his mistress and children.
To this day, the Kirwan trial has split opinion. Some say he was a victim of Victorian moral conservatism and that his wife drowned after going swimming too soon after eating, others are convinced that he took the opportunity to get rid of his wife by making it look like an accident so that he could marry his mistress.
Unfortunately, we will never know – Ireland’s Eye will keep its secret.
Are you a witch?
Are you a fairy?
Are you the wife
Of Michael Cleary?
— Children’s rhyme from Southern Tipperary, Ireland
Everyone enjoys a good fairy-tale. Being Irish, I grew up with them and often heard tales of fairy forts and changelings and the consequences of interfering with either. Many cultures around the world believe in fairy abductions when a human child is replaced by a fairy. The theme of the swapped child is common in medieval literature and was often a way for people to explain children thought to be afflicted with unexplained diseases, disorders, or developmental disabilities. But changelings were not necessarily only children. There is a rather grisly tale which took place in Ireland in 1895.
It is the tragic story of Bridget Cleary
Bridget was born around 1870 in County Tipperary, Ireland. She married Michael Cleary, almost ten years her senior, but after the wedding she returned to her parents’ house, while Michael continued to work away from home as a cooper. Bridget’s independence grew. She was attractive, and forthright, with a reputation for a quick wit, and a direct gaze – none of which were common characteristics of young Irish Catholic women. Bridget was an accomplished seamstress and in addition to her income from sewing, she kept hens and sold their eggs. Following the death of her mother, the couple set up home with Bridget’s elderly father, Patrick Boland, in a house reputedly built on the site of a fairy ring fort.
By 1895 the couple had been married about eight years but had no children. Bridget continued her egg selling but often had to walk miles to deliver her eggs. It would appear that after a particularly bad rain soaking, she took ill. Over the course of a few days this seemed to develop into pneumonia or she may already have had tuberculosis. More than a week into her illness, on 13 March 1895, Dr. Crean, the local doctor, visited her at her home. He found her suffering from nervous excitement and a slight bronchitis. She was in bed, but the doctor “could see nothing in the case likely to cause death.” Dr. Crean then gave her some medicine. Father Ryan, who visited Mrs. Cleary on the same Wednesday afternoon, said that her conversation was quite coherent and intelligible. (Above image is Lily Fairy, by Falero Luis Ricardo, 1888)
Soon Michael Cleary and Bridget’s uncle, Jack Dunne, a seanchai well versed in herb lore, began to circulate the story that Bridget had been taken by the fairies, and the woman in the bed was a changeling. Michael even claimed she was taller and finer than his wife! The next day, Thursday March 14, he went to a herbalist and bought herbs as a “fairy cure.” A traditional remedy for someone “taken” by fairies, was to boil specific herbs in milk. Michael dosed Bridget repeatedly that evening, but only by having his wife physically restrained by family members. Witnesses said she was also held over the fire and questioned rigorously as to whether she was really Bridget Cleary.
On the morning of Friday March 15th, Michael fetched the priest, who performed mass in Bridget’s bedroom, where Bridget was lying in bed. Michael told the priest that he had not been giving his wife the medicine prescribed by the doctor, because he had no faith in it. That night, according to Bridget’s cousin, and other family members who were present, she was dressed and brought to the kitchen, where an argument about fairies ensued. Again Michael repeatedly questioned Bridget. “Are you Bridget Cleary, my wife, in the name of God?”
Eventually she refused to answer any more questions and in a rage Michael flung her to the floor, and half strangling her, forced some bread and jam down her throat. He then stripped her down to her chemise, fetched a lighting stick out of the fire and held it to her forehead (a gesture meant to chase out the fairy). Her chemise caught fire and whether this was deliberate or not is unknown, but then he drenched Bridget in paraffin oil from a lamp, until she was consumed with flames. He stood over her and stopped the other members of the family from helping her.
One witness testified that when he cried out to Michael Cleary “For the love of God, don’t burn your wife!”
Cleary replied: “She’s not my wife. . . . She’s an old deceiver sent in place of my wife. She’s after deceiving me for the last seven or eight days, and deceived the priest today too, but she won’t deceive anyone any more. As I beginned it with her, I will finish it with her! . . . You’ll soon see her go up the chimney!”
In the early hours of the following morning, Michael asked a relative to help bury Bridget’s twisted, and partially incinerated corpse. They wrapped the body in a sack and carried it to a boggy area about a quarter of a mile away. Michael threatened all of the witnesses but by the 16th March, rumours were beginning to circulate that Bridget was missing. Some time afterwards, it was reported to the local priest that Bridget had been burned to death by her husband and other family members. The priest went to the police. On the 22nd of March, after a week of speculation, newspaper reports, and intensive searching, the Royal Irish Constables discovered the body in its shallow grave. A coroner’s inquest the next day returned a verdict of death by burning. In the intervening time, Michael Cleary, in the company of his father-in-law and neighbours, spent three nights at the fairy fort at Kylenagranagh, convinced that he would see his wife emerge on a white horse, at which point he would cut her free, and rescue her from the fairies.
The police arrested nine people, including Michael and Bridget’s family members, neighbours and friends, in connection with the murder. All nine were indicted on charges of “wounding”. Michael Cleary served 15 years for manslaughter after which he emigrated to Canada. It is debatable whether Michael actually believed her to be a fairy – many believe he concocted a “fairy defence” after he murdered his wife in a fit of rage, and he maintained until his death that he did not murder his wife.
Her death and the publicity surrounding the trial were regarded as being politically significant at a time because Irish Home Rule was an active political issue in England. Press coverage of the Cleary case occurred in an atmosphere of debate over the Irish people’s ability to govern themselves and worries were expressed about the credulity and superstition of rural nationalist Catholics as a result.
Unsurprisingly, Bridget’s murder has been the inspiration for many books, myths and plays.
Angela Bourke’s “The Burning of Bridget Cleary” and
“The Cooper’s Wife is Missing” by John Hoff and Marian Yeates