Downey’s Death: Killed by Imagination May 16, 2015
Author: Beach Combing | in : Modern , trackback
Beach stumbled across this story a couple of weeks ago and thought he’d put it up for the practical jokes tag. There was much interest in the nineteenth century about how the psychological impression of death could cause death. Somewhere Beach has read a French version of this (can anyone help: drbeachcombing AT yahoo DOT com), but though late the following is vivid and deserves to be added to the list. The story apparently was used to explain a Geordie (NE England) expression ‘Why were a’ airt an pairt in Downie’s slaughter’. It was likely then invented to explain a quirk of language. The correspondent, to a late nineteenth-century British newspaper, said that he had read it a number of years before.
At a certain College the lodge-keeper was a ‘cankert auld craitur’ named Downie. Woe betide any student who chanced to be outside after the appointed hour for closing the gates! Downie invariably reported the offending one, who was then punished according to the rules of the establishment. No bribe could move him; he was inexorable. Pipes, tobacco, and even the yellow metal itself proved useless. One night he brought things to a climax by reporting the son of the Principal, who had stayed out too long. The students determined to give him a fright. A night was chosen when they were all supposed to be at a ball, thus giving as many as possible the chance of participating in the ploy. About midnight the gate bell area rung violently, and on answering the summons he was informed that one of his teachers had been taken ill suddenly in a friend’s house, and that his assistance was required to convey him to the College. Suspecting nothing, the old man followed, and soon a house on the outskirts the city was reached. Three taps by the guide brought the servant to the door, who admitted them. The gatekeeper was then led through a kind of passage and into a room, in which sat about 30 gentlemen dressed in black and wearing masks. ‘What’s the meaning of this’ shouted the astonished Downie, but he was sternly ordered to hold his tongue. One of the party who sat on a seat a little raised fromthe others took the part of judge, and calling upon Downie’s guide to bring him forward, proceeded in a grave voice to sum up the charges preferred against him.
Reporting students was a thing which needed remedying, and he was determined that it should be done. In brief, a mock trial was gone through, the result which was that the gatekeeper was found guilty and sentenced to death. All this time the poor man was standing, the very personification of terror, but on the death sentence being pronounced he threw himself on his knees begging for mercy. It was in vain. A door was thrown open revealing a lead block with a gleaming axe standing against it. ‘Bind up his eyes’ shouted the judge ‘lay his head on the block and when I say ‘draw’ cut his head from body, and may thus die all opposers of college freedom.’ Immediately Downie’s eyes were bandaged a change in the role was effected. All leaped from their seats convulsed with suppressed laughter. One seized a basin of cold water, while another took a towel and drew it through the water, and twisting it rope like, held it above the prostrate Downie. On the judge uttering the word ‘Draw’. No one touched the axe, but the wet towel was swiftly brought down upon the neck of the prisoner. At the same time the water was allowed to gurgle out of the basin, seeming in imitation of Downie’s blood. But here an unexpected climax took place. Downie, who had been kneeling passively, with his head upon the block now gave a violent start, attempted to rise, but fell forward. Horror of horrors! Downie was dead. The joke had gone too far. The rapidity of the events had paralysed him, but when the wet towel touched his neck the shock had been too much for his nerves. The students stared at each other. Here was a tragic ending to a piece of harmless frolic. At length the one who had acted as judge found voice, and said. ‘Fellow students, this serous matter, which, if found out, will lead to our disgrace, and most likely, legal punishment. No one knows that he is here. Let us then take an oath that should any be blamed for the deed we will all take share of the guilt, and say we were all art and part of Downie’s slaughter. There is little fear, however, as we will convey him back to the lodge, and leave him in such a position as will lead to the theory that he died suddenly.’ This was done, and the students retired to rest. Next morning Downey was found dead, but no suspicions were entertained, and a verdict of death from natural causes was returned. It remained a secret for sixty years, when the ‘judge’ upon his deathbed related the above facts. Ab Pe Jo 6 May 1893
17 May 2015: Chris from Haunted Ohio Books writes: The wet towel and pouring out of water/blood for the “condemned” man are still fixed in urban legends about college hazing rituals.
Your post on the death of Downey reminds me (perhaps irrelevantly) of two stories:
A man who had been sentenced to death at Vienna, was offered a full pardon, if he would consent to pass the night in the bed of a person who had died of cholera. In about four hours he was seized with vomiting, violent cramps, and all the symptoms of cholera. Ultimately, by medical assistance, his life was saved. His astonishment was unbounded when he was informed that the bed was perfectly pure. The Daily Dispatch [Richmond, VA] 13 November 1855: p. 4 [There is another version with 3 prisoners offered the deal; 2 of whom died.]
Downey’s ordeal also reminds me of those initiation ordeals of some fraternal orders. Some of the ordeals were said to be quite terrifying and there are reports of initiates being killed by “psychological factors” (or by electrical shocks.) Here’s a jokey initiation:
William T. West [eccentric Sandusky, Ohio carpenter] had some amusing stories he used to tell about the Sons of Malta, a fake secret society which had a great run through the United States and struck Sandusky in the early ‘50s. The society was said to have been organized by George Prentiss at the time of an epidemic of yellow fever in Memphis, Tennessee, for the purpose of distracting the popular mind from their peril. The object of the society was represented as the capture of the Island of Cuba, and for that purpose the candidate was examined as to his qualifications as a recruit for such an expedition. The initiation consisted of two parts, the first of which was solemn and designed to impress the candidate. He was ushered into a darkened room, lighted only by blue lights with an open coffin in the midst guarded by four ghostly figures in long monkish robes solemnly waving their arms above the coffin. An organ played solemn music while a deep bell tolled, while the sides of the room were crowded with figures in the same ghostly attire. Not a word was spoken, and the candidate was escorted back to the anteroom and blindfolded and then brought back to the lodgeroom to be put through a hoaxing degree so complete that none ever detected the hoax till the blindfold was removed. In order to drown the laughter of the members, chains were dragged and various sound stifling devices used. The head of the lodge was supposed to be a man of deep and impressive voice for the purpose of the ritual. Early in the initiation the candidate was asked if he could write his name in the dark and on his doing so he would discover three or four days later when a bill was presented to him that he had signed an order for various solid and liquid refreshments.
The routine of the initiation proceeded as follows, for example, the commander would inquire of the candidate if he would be willing in order to procure information from the enemy, to lie on his stomach and steal into his camp by night. The candidate would of course answer, “yes.” The lodge would repeat in unison, “The candidate will lie and steal.” The commander in his ponderous voice would say, “Let it be recorded that the candidate will lie and steal.”
At another place in the initiation a gigantic sponge was provided and as the blindfolded candidate stood before the commander and the rest of the lodge, at intervals during the ritual, the commander would ask in his majestic way, ”’How many feet of water in the grand tank,” the member having the sponge in charge would lift it from the tub and allow the water to run out of the sponge and reply, “One foot,” then “Two feet,” and so on until ten feet was announced. Later the command would be given, “Let the candidate be immersed in the grand tank,” and the blindfolded candidate would be taken up to the top of a platform and guided down the incline plane until he landed in a sitting position on top of the sponge, where he would strike out to swim, much to the delight of the assembled members.
At another place in the ritual the candidate was asked if he had any precious stones concealed about his person, the candidate would answer “No,” the lodge would repeat in unison, “The candidate has no stones.” The commander would announce, “Let it be recorded that the candidate has no stones.”
A strong endeavor was made to impress on the candidate’s mind the presence of one or more clergymen or prominent citizens for whom the candidate was supposed to have great respect.
Whenever a man of unusual physical strength was initiated a stool pigeon was initiated at the same time. On one such occasion the stool pigeon stood at the head of a file of candidates next to a man of great reputation for courage. All were blindfolded. After being conducted to the hall the candidates were told to count ten. The stool pigeon in a loud voice called “One,” he was gently reprimanded by the commander and again asked to count. Again in a louder tone he cried “One,” more severely he was reprimanded again by the commander and again asked to count, and again in a loud voice he cried “One.” He was now solemnly warned that another repetition of the offense would cause him to be brought before the grand council of ten. He again cried in a loud tone “One,” and immediately with great force he was torn away from the side of the courageous candidate crying at the top of his voice “Mercy.” A clanking of chains succeeded and at a little distance a fainter cry for mercy. A little further and the cry almost died away and then ceased after which the candidate was hazed to the content of the lodge.
A Standard History of Erie County, Ohio, Volume 1, Hewson Lindsley Peeke, 1916, pp 470-1
25 May 2013: MacMac writes
We have a similar tale to the faux beheading in our Great Southern Land’s culture. From one of our great waggish poets “Banjo” Patterson is the 1892 ballad of “The Man from Ironbark”. I note the assembly of witnesses are similar to those of the other urban myths. While the story avoids fatality, there is still an unavoidable consequence.
The epnonymous Ironbarkian has travelled for the first time from bush to the big City, and determines to indulge himself with the novel experience of a professional shave. But a joke at the expense of a “bushie” was then and is now all too tempting…
There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber’s wall,
Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all;
To them the barber passed the wink, his dexter eyelid shut,
`I’ll make this bloomin’ yokel think his bloomin’ throat is cut.’
And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark:
`I s’pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark.’
A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman’s chin,
Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in.
He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat,
Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim’s throat;
Upon the newly shaven skin it made a livid mark —
No doubt it fairly took him in — the man from Ironbark.
He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear,
And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear,
He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd’rous foe:
`You’ve done for me! you dog, I’m beat! one hit before I go!
I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark!
But you’ll remember all your life, the man from Ironbark.’
He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout
He landed on the barber’s jaw, and knocked the barber out.
He set to work with tooth and nail, he made the place a wreck;
He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck.
And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark,
And `Murder! Bloody Murder!’ yelled the man from Ironbark.
…
And now while round the shearing floor the list’ning shearers gape,
He tells the story o’er and o’er, and brags of his escape.
`Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I’ve had enough,
One tried to cut my bloomin’ throat, but thank the Lord it’s tough.’
And whether he’s believed or no, there’s one thing to remark,
That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.
macmac
