Death by Boggart (or Meningitis)? February 7, 2016
Author: Beach Combing | in : Modern , trackback
This is a one of these stories where the problem is not with the facts but with interpretation. As it involves human facts it is not a very happy story: be warned a little girl dies. We are in 1871 in Ashton-under-Lyne just outside Manchester. Mr F. Price is the coroner and he held his sad office at the Talbot Inn in the town. The fact of five-year-old Ellen’s body is before him: she has died of fairy fright. Here her father, very likely an Irish immigrant, explains what happened.
Matthew Macnamara said: I am an out-door labourer, and live at 18, Swift’s-yard, Tatton-street. The deceased, Ellen Macnamara, was a child, and was five years of age. Previous to Friday last she was in good health, but in the evening I was told that she had been frightened, though her mother said that she looked pale in the afternoon. Just before we were going to have our supper, between eight and nine o’clock, Mrs. Harlow came into our house, and, addressing my daughter, asked her if she would come and rock the cradle whilst she went on an errand, and she went with her. About a quarter of an hour afterwards I sent my other daughter, who is about eight years of age, to take her sister’s place whilst she had her supper. When she got to the door she ran back, and told me that Ellen was crying, through Edward [aged 7 or 8] frightening her. I went to the house, knowing that the child was easily frightened, and found her crying, but rocking the cradle still, though trembling. I took my daughter home, and she said that the lad told her that there was a boggart in the coal-hole, or something of that sort. After pacifying her she got her supper, and went to bed, apparently all right.
So little boy next door frightens little girl: interesting we are in an England where neighbours borrow five year olds for babysitting duties. From now on it is downhill all the way: one can imagine the desperation of the parents.
During the night she vomited several times, and in the morning, about eight or nine o’clock, my wife took some tea upstairs for her, but on her raising her up found her motionless. I was in bed in the same room, and heard the mother speaking to her, but as she could receive no answer from her I carried her down stairs. In a short time she vomited whilst in the cradle, and about twelve o’clock I went to the relieving officer for an order. Upon receiving it I went to the doctor, but he was bad with the rheumatic, and gave me two powders saying that if it grew worse I had to see him again. I gave the child one of the powders but she got worse during the afternoon and died about half-past four. The doctor called to visit her the next morning but she was dead.
Another witness is one Ann Gee, perhaps a local cunning woman, certainly a stand in the for the doctor? ‘Strucken with death’ is curious.
I live at Delamere-street, and about half-past twelve Saturday I was asked to go and see the child, when I said that it was ‘strucken with death.’ The father was in the house, and had been for the doctor. I stayed in the house some little time, and then went home. About five minutes to four I went again, and found that the child was dying, and it died whilst I was there.
Remarkably:
The jury returned a verdict that the child died from the effects of the fright.
For the social historian the most interesting aspects of the case is the anger of the jury, who demanded that the doctor be made to answer for not visiting the child: a bit of class warfare or desperate sympathy for the father? For a history dilettante like this blogger the most fascinating question is what happened to Ellen. It is possible to die of fright. But fright doesn’t lead to serial vomiting: meningitis perhaps, though there is no mention of fever, note she was immobile? If not what did this poor little girl die of? drbeachcombing AT yahoo DOT com While writing this Beach was struck by the fact that had she survived Ellen would very possibly have lived to see German bombers over Ashton, the ‘new’ queen and just conceivably Sergeant Peppers. That boggart (and her next door neighbour) has a lot to answer for…
Anon, ‘Death of a Girl from Fright’, Ashton Weekly Reporter (11 Feb 1871), 4
