Ann Palmer’s Story

Please be aware that this post contains information about an historic child murder and mental distress.

I am still fighting the not-quite-working computer issues but I have paused the list of 101 things to do before September (err that would be tomorrow – oops) to share the story of Ann Palmer.

I first came across Ann when researching for a talk and book chapter about investigating the stories of our ancestors in asylums. This led me to a class of records that are at The National Archives but also online at Ancestry. The Criminal Lunatic Asylum Registers, kept by the National Lunatic Asylum and county and metropolitan asylums, are in class HO20 and cover the period 1800-1843. These contain a wealth of detail about those who had been convicted of criminal offences but were deemed to be insane. I could have spent hours looking at the detailed accounts of these tragic situations but one in particular caught my eye. This was the entry for Ann Palmer, from Dagenham, Essex, who was convicted of murder at Chelmsford Assizes in 1823. It read:

‘The jury having found that she was insane at the time of the commission of the offence declare that she was acquitted by them on account of such insanity. From Dagenham, Essex.

Previous to Commitment. About 25 years since she partially cut her throat while she lived servant at Newington. Is said to have been a good and affectionate mother. Was married to a very afflicted man who kept a small public house at Marks Gate, Padnell Corner, Dagenham and became much afflicted in her mind at her husband’s death, which happened a short time before her commitment in consequence of her being informed that his body had been stolen from the grave.

Conduct in goal since. Decidedly insane, sometimes violent, at others dull and moody but not dangerous to those about her.

Thos. Cawkivell Goaler, Jas. Hutchinson Chaplain.

The state of her bodily health varied much during the period of her confinement but more particularly since the time of her trial. She was at one time reduced to so feeble a state that considerable apprehensions were entertained of her probable dissolution but she has within the last 10 or 12 days become more tranquil and has appeared gradually to acquire a strength insomuch that I have no hesitation in pronouncing her capable of safe removal to any place which may be appointed for her. 14 August 1823 G A Gepp Surgeon.’

The record also revealed that Ann was 43 years old and died on 23February 1824.

I had a quick look for Ann in the newspaper archive but failed to find anything and Palmer was a common name, so I wasn’t getting anywhere and in any case, I had other things on the urgent list.

Every couple of weeks I get together with a lovely group of ladies to chat about family history; we enjoy encouraging each other and sharing our successes, failures and tips. I brought Ann’s case to the group. Collectively we found not one but two newspaper reports. The first, in the Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser of the 21st of July 1823 gave details of Ann’s crime.

            ‘Chelmsford July 17. Ann Palmer was indicted for the murder of her infant son, at Romford. This case excited considerable interest, and sensibly affected a very crowded auditory. The wretched prisoner, a poor widow with nine children, was place at the bar in a state of mental stupor, and it was with difficulty she was made to understand the arraignment. She, however, pleaded not guilty, and the trial proceeded.

Ann Savell deposed that she had known the prisoner about three months. On the 23rd of May the prisoner’s eldest daughter called witness into the prisoner’s house, when she saw the deceased, who was only eleven months old, stretched lifeless upon a bed, but the body was still warm. The prisoner was in the room, and witness said to her, “the dear baby is no more, but you must reconcile yourself to the event. The Lord’s will be done, not ours.” She replied, “the Lord had nothing to do with it; I killed my baby.” She seemed then much agitated, and witness left the house horror-struck at the circumstance.

Mary Palmer, the prisoner’s eldest daughter, deposed that her father had been dead about four months. Her mother was quite overpowered with grief at his loss. There was a rumour that his body had been disturbed in the grave, which very much increased her grief. Indeed she was quite distracted with sorrow, and at times did not know what she said or did. She was a woman of very acute feelings, and was doatingly attached to her husband and children. She had suckled the deceased baby herself, and was passionately fond of him. She had often sat whole days since her husband’s death, weeping over the baby. She had often said she would kill herself, Before this time she had frequently said, laughing wildly, that the baby was dead and gone to heaven. On the 24th May she called to witness, and told her the baby was dead. She was then crying bitterly and wringing her hands. There was a small black mark on the left temple.

A Constable of Romford deposed that he saw the prisoner some time after the child was found dead. She was then violently beating her head, weeping and wringing her hands. She said, distractedly, “Hell! Hell, hell! I have murdered my baby. I meant the blow or myself, but it fell upon the baby. The beetle with which I did it stands behind the door. I have murder in my heart, and have carried a razor about me this fortnight.” She appeared quite wild and distracted.

Mr Curruthers, a surgeon, deposed that he examined the body often child. Its death was occasioned by a blow to the back of the head. It might have been with such an instrument as a beetle or mallet.

This was the case for the prosecution; upon which Mr Baron Graham intonated, that he thought it unnecessary to call upon the prisoner for her defence. It was quite obvious that poverty and grief had overpowered the better affections of the heart, and had bereft the prisoner of her reason. If the Jury were of this opinion, they would find the prisoner not guilty upon that ground.

The Jury immediately found the prisoner Not Guilty, on the ground that she was insane at the time she committed the fatal act.

The prisoner was then ordered to be detained in custody.”

The Cambridge Chronicle and Journal of 25 July 1823 carries and almost identical report but adds that the child’s name was Thomas and the National Burial Index lists the burial of a Thomas Palmer in Romford on 27 May 1823.

Burning some midnight oil we found more entries in the online indexes to Essex parish registers, including the burial of a Joseph Palmer on 13 March 1823 ‘of Dagenham’ at Stapleford Abbotts. There are baptisms of several children of Joseph and Ann. Some of the children seem to have been baptised more than once, including in January 1824, in Dagenham, which seems odd, as Joseph would have been dead by then. The Dagenham baptisms do state that Joseph was a publican.

Next step, to persuade the member of our group who lives closest to take a look at the original records.

No appropriate image, so some flowers for Ann and her family.

Sources

Cambridge Chronicle and Journal 25 July 1823 p. 4 col. c.

Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser 21 of July 1823 p. 4 col. a.

Online indexes to Essex parish registers via www.findmypast.co.uk

The Criminal Lunatic Asylum Registers at The National Archives HO20/13, accessed via www.ancestry.co.uk

A Trip to the Commonwealth Games: or how to worry about 95 things at once

Having enjoyed the 2012 Olympics and 2014 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow, the 2022 Commonwealth Games have been in my diary since the venue was announced. The Birmingham caravan site was booked as soon as I was able for the duration of the games, whilst I waited to see what tickets I could get and how long we would actually need to stay. I duly applied to spend a small fortune on tickets and secured two athletics sessions fairly swiftly. Something that looked like tickets arrived by email. A few weeks ago, I managed to buy tickets for an additional session. This time the ’ticket’ looked different and I realised that the first two did not include seat numbers, whereas the later ones did. Panic one – had I missed an email with actual tickets in? I used the contact us facility on the website and waited and waited and waited some more and heard precisely nothing. Would we not be able to go after all? Finally after a great deal of poking around on the website, I found that I could access actual tickets and download them that way. This was not without incident but was accomplished.

Panic two – how were we going to get from the caravan site to the venue, which was on the other side of Birmingham? To be honest I’d assumed we’d use public transport. Further investigation revealed train stations near the site and the venue but the need for two trains and a walk to get from one to the other and a warning that the last train left the venue before the end of the evening session! Well, that’s helpful (or similar) thought I. We were warned that there was no parking at the venue. Could we perhaps drive to a station and then pick up public transport? That of course didn’t solve the trains not running late enough issue. Could we park in the road anywhere up to a couple of miles away and walk in? Possibly but panic three would these roads be residents only parking? It seemed that it was possible to book a spot at a park and ride at significant cost. The most convenient one was already fully booked but I managed to get three spots at a further distant park and ride. More ticket downloading to negotiate. Said tickets and the website warned that we must arrive in out allotted time slot or risk not being allowed to park.

I checked the what you are allowed to take into the venue regulations carefully. Then I noticed something to engender panic four. If you downloaded your tickets more than once only the most recent one would be valid as a new barcode would be generated each time. I wasn’t convinced that this would actually be the case but supposing it was? Supposing I hadn’t printed the latest version. Maybe I should download them again. Oh dear, there were warnings that if you repeatedly tried to download it wouldn’t work. Nonetheless, I decided to risk downloading again. By this time, my computer had died a sad and stress inducing death and I was working on a combination of two replacement machines. These are a borrowed laptop that I could use to access websites, as I could persuade it to remember my passwords but it had all the wrong software and didn’t connect to my printer and a tiny broken netbook with no memory (so won’t update) but does at least have the right software even though it doesn’t use the same browser. Undaunted by swapping from machine to machine I reprinted the tickets, making sure I saved the originals ‘just in case’.

The journey to Birmingham was uneventful  but the caravan site is entered and exited via a charged barrier card. We have to be at the park and ride between 6.45am and 7.00am. It is forty minutes away. In my language this means we leave at 5.30am. Panic five, what happens if the card hasn’t been charged properly and we can’t get out? I am persuaded, against my better judgement that this won’t happen.  It doesn’t, so next day and we set off for the park and ride. I try to put the postcode into the sat-nav. The postcode does not exist. I put the street address in instead. That leads us to a residential road with no multi-storey car-park in sight. See, I knew we needed to allow extra time. What to do now? Fortuitously, I had for some random reason downloaded what-three-words on my phone. I have the car-park’s three words. After a couple of false starts I make this work. Inevitably, we are still too early but we are allowed to wait and park at 6.45am. We walk round to the shuttle bus. Panic six – we will be in this car park all day. Technically our first ticket is for 6.45-3.00 and the next for 3.30-11.45. It did say we could stay all day and I have had both tickets scanned so let’s hope we don’t come back to find ourselves clamped. The bus to the stadium is uneventful. We have seats that are rather higher up than is comfortable for someone who doesn’t even like standing on chairs but we have a good view of the finish line.  We see some heptathlon events, with three English competitors including Katerina Johnson-Thompson and women’s 800m heats with Laura Muir, men’s long jump qualifying, then rather a lot of men’s 100m heats and women’s T37/38 heats with Sophie Hahn.

Weirdly, the food outlets close before the end of the morning session and we have to leave the stadium. We elect to sit on a random piece of grass for four hours and eat the food we have brought with us. In the evening, we are high up again at the opposite end of the stadium. This gives us a good view of the women’s pole vault. There is more heptathlon, men’s 400m hurdles rounds, the men’s T45/47 100m final, women’s T37/38 100m final, the men’s 110m hurdles rounds, the women’s discus final, the women’s T33/34 100m with Hannah Cockcroft and the men’s 10,000m final. It seems that the British Virgin Island team is pretty much all the same family, with five siblings, including two sets of twins, competing. We are at the furthest point from the shuttle buses but panic seven (that we might miss the last shuttle bus) is unfounded. Even more peculiar that the closing of the food outlets is the closing of all the toilets before the spectators leave the stadium. It seems that buses have been bussed in from across the country and we board a Trumpington park and ride bus. All is well and we retrieve the car, which hasn’t been clamped.

We decide we can safely leave half an hour later for our second morning session. We are still just a little early so hide in a side road and turn up at exactly 6.45am to be told that they are not letting anyone in until 7.15am. I point out that our ticket says be there between 6.45am and 7.00am on pain of death to no avail. We park at 7.15am and are in the stadium in plenty of time. I enjoy watching the pre-event preparations. Radzi and Ewan Thomas are doing a good job of hosting. There are pyrotechnics and the games mascot, Perry the bull, flies in. This time we are much lower down, so we are nearer the action but we don’t get the bird’s eye view of the finish. Fortunately it is mostly 400m and 800m, rounds, as well as more heptathlon. It did get quite hot but I was prepared with my 2012 baseball cap (not worn since 2012). The person sitting next to me is also wearing 2012 merchandise.

Was it worth it? Yes, although I must learn to panic less before I try this again.