Enigma of Borley Rectory

by Harry Ludlum

  Could the Bull family have provided money for a grave at Borley for Kate because her own family could not afford to pay for her funeral, or was it that Kate Boreham did in fact become involved in some misfortune within the Bull household, to the extent that they found it expedient to 'manage' the final rites themselves?

  It should not be forgotten that there was at least one Katie employed as a maid at the Rectory. She was not, however, one of the Bull's servants but was employed by Lionel and Marianne Foyster, so she belonged to the 1930s and not to 1888. She seems to have been mentioned only once by Price in his account of that period in the Rectory's history, and there is no hint at all that anything untoward happened to her, apart from her being present during the exploding bottle incidents, which resultant mess she was obliged several times to clear up on the evening in question!

  In an attempt to make some sense of the Katie Boreham episode, let me turn my attention to the other end of this business, Priory Walk in Sudbury, where the death certificate says Kate Boreham died in 1888.

  The Suffolk County Records Office at Bury St Edmunds was consulted and the results are somewhat curious. Kate's husband, Walter Boreham, who we know from Borley census records was a farm labourer, would almost certainly not have owned the house in Priory Walk, for his wages would not have permitted home ownership.

  The odd thing is that in the electoral register for 1888 the only person owning a house in Priory Walk, Sudbury, was a Jessie Mitchell. According to the Suffolk Records Office, there was one person of the name Bull on the electoral register listed as owning a house in Sudbury, and he was William Henry Bull. Suffolk Records did not state whether he was related to the Bulls of Borley or Pentlow, but as the Bull family owned so much property in the Sudbury area, it is not unlikely that W. H. Bull was of the same family, especially as his second name is Henry! He is recorded as owning the freehold of a house in Market Hill, Sudbury.

  Another odd thing that these enquiries revealed was that, at least in 1881, there was no such person as Walter or Kate Boreham residing in Priory Walk, Sudbury. However, the seven years that elapsed up to 1888 were more than enough for that situation to have changed.

  If the Katie episode was indeed a cover-up, how convenient for those involved that the census returns fell due in 1881 when Kate was alive and next in 1891 when she had been dead for three years.

  There remains the query as to why if Kate died in Sudbury she was brought back to Borley to be buried, which is not where she was born, especially as a levy would have been charged for each parish through which her body was conveyed. Is that death certificate a pack of lies? If so, those who perpetrated the falsehood must surely have seen the incompleteness of their scheme in recording Kate Boreham's burial at Borley in the parish registers, which if a scandal was being covered up, would surely have been omitted from the registers; that is, unless Kate Boreham, in spite of what the register says, was never buried at Borley at all!

  Richard Lee van den Daele, who contributed much information about the late Captain Gregson, visited Borley and mentioned that he could not find Kate's grave in Borley churchyard. In that light, the whole episode becomes, like Alice in Wonderland, curiouser and curiouser!

  Was Kate Boreham visiting somebody in Priory Way when she was perhaps taken ill? And who was Jessie Mitchell and was she anything to do with either the Bulls or the Borehams?

  Let us turn our attention now to Kate Boreham's recorded cause of death, acute cerebritis. This is listed as inflammation of the brain and encompasses the condition better known as meningitis.

  What can be gleaned from the death of a woman of Kate Boreham's age, 31 years, from this illness, taking into account the living conditions and medical knowledge of the 1880s?

  The writer turned again to Professor Bernard Knight, who had already given much interesting information on the validity of the bone finds at Borley, and asked for answers to the following questions:

  What was the nature of cerebritis, how would it be caused in a woman of that age, how would it progress and what would the end result be?

  Could cerebritis be connected with childbirth?

  Could this illness have been induced or brought on by outside factors, such as poisoning?

  What is sugar of lead, what was it used for and what would happen to anyone given it?

  The details of Kate's known children's births were given, and also the Professor was informed of the allegation about the finding in one of the Rectory cupboards of a half-empty bottle of sugar of lead.

  The writer was not expecting any great success with this line of enquiry, but the results were better than could have been foreseen and very suggestive as to the true fate of Kate Boreham!

  The basics of Professor Knight's views were as follows:

  That the cause of death recorded ... cerebritis ... is meaningless as such, and was probably speculative.

  The modern term for this, denoting inflammation of the brain, would be encephalitis or meningo-encephalitis, an unusual condition, almost always a virus and more common in the tropics than here, though not unknown in England. The prognosis of this illness is made on virological (and, on some occasions, post-mortem) evidence, so that unless Kate had a post mortem, the cause of death being described as cerebritis would not be of any validity.

  At the period of time we are concerned with, the 1880s, most causes of death were speculative and even post mortems could produce curious results and opinions.

  As to the true possibilities in the case, either Kate had a febrile illness, attacking the central nervous system, or she could have been suffering fits.

  The possibilities vis-à-vis childbirth were also of some validity, because she might have had toxaemia of pregnancy or eclampsia, which can lead to fits; though without her medical history, that in itself is speculative.

  With regard to the possibilities of poisoning, this could certainly result in signs that could be mistaken for inflammation of the brain, because lead causes an encephalopathy, including fits, tremors or death!

  Of the exact nature of sugar of lead he was not certain, it requiring the consultation of a pharmacist, as it is an old piece of terminology.

  The reader will see immediately in these comments the almost unlimited field for concealing a true cause of death in a case where that death was probably not natural.

  From professional opinions given, it is of course not possible to prove that Kate Boreham met an unnatural end, but one's suspicions are obviously strongly increased by what Professor Knight has outlined.

  Sugar of lead turns out to be an old expression for lead acetate, one of the few lead compounds that is soluble, but the most extraordinary point about it in terms of the Katie story is that it was, in former times, used in diachylon plasters which could be scraped and swallowed to induce an abortion.

  One can immediately see the possible course of events that might have surrounded Kate Boreham's last days. It is difficult to ignore the very real possibility that the 'village gossip' stories about a maid's death, and the fathering of illegitimate children by Henry Dawson Bull, have actually been based on fact.

  However, another anomaly arises of the matter of Kate's age. The church register gives her age at death as 31, which makes her 19 at the time of her marriage. This tallies with the marriage register, yet her death certificate gives her age at death as 38! It is not impossible for the church register to be incorrect and it is equally possible for the death certificate to be inaccurate.

  This also shows Walter Boreham being present at his wife's death, and what purports to be his mark, but we know from Suffolk records that there is no evidence that the house in Sudbury where she is said to have died ever belonged to, or was rented by, the Borehams. As the cause of death has been shown to be questionable, it seems not at all unlikely that the age entry and Walter Boreham's mark could also be spurious or false.

  The following circumstances could be one answer to the stories surrounding the role of Katie Boreham in the hauntings.
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  Consider some of the elements of the story, in particular the coach and horses and the voice that Guy Smith heard pleading, 'No Carlos. Don't!'

  Consider also the allegations about the half-empty bottle of sugar of lead, and the long-standing local belief that Henry Dawson Bull had relationships with village girls and is said to have fathered three illegitimate children.

  It is apparent that the long-believed connection between the nun and the horse-drawn carriage is not really tenable. There is some possibility that it could have been connected with events surrounding the Waldegraves in France at the time of the French Revolution, though even that doesn't really address the presence of the carriage in the Borley hauntings. But when one recalls the description of the vehicle as resembling an old-fashioned cab, then the possibility as to its true place in the saga becomes apparent.

  Let us assume that Kate Boreham was a maid to the Bull family at Borley Rectory and let us further assume that she did become pregnant during 1887/88 and that the child was not by her husband.

  She went into labour whilst going about her duties in the Rectory, and very possibly prematurely, perhaps while she was at work in the Rectory kitchen. She was taken up and placed in one of the bedrooms, where after a difficult delivery the infant was found to be dead or died very shortly after, and Kate herself was now in a very weak state.

  Now the Bulls had a disaster on their hands. Henry's exploits had caught up with him under the worst possible circumstances! What was to be done? If the regular doctor to the family is called, unless he was well in with the family, the game would be up, and the family would suffer a monumental scandal!

  The dead child was disposed of and either because of that or because Katie was now the object of a hastily arranged scheme to get her out of the way before the lid blew off, Katie herself or maybe even Henry's wife protested, 'No Carlos. Don't!', obviously to no avail.

  The existence of the house in Sudbury was known about. Maybe the William Henry Bull referred to in the Suffolk records was connected with the Borley family and was involved. The Bull's carriage was summoned and a dying Kate placed in it.

  The coach was now driven away from the Rectory at considerable speed, perhaps after dark, conveying its hapless passenger to the secluded house in Priory Walk. She was taken inside and shortly afterwards died. Then, a doctor was found to issue a suitable death certificate, perhaps a young doctor who was somewhat inexperienced, and 'cerebritis' was entered as a cause of death.

  If Katie was given something that was supposed to be a sedative at the Rectory, but which was laced with sugar of lead, then the end would be conveniently hastened, and the stated cause of death in the case of a servant girl would be unlikely to attract any interest from local outsiders.

  Now one of two things could happen. The first possibility was that Kate would be quietly buried in an unmarked grave in Sudbury, with nobody else, including Walter Boreham, any the wiser. He could even have been under the impression that his wife was confined to bed in the Rectory with some illness. In the mean time a fake entry was made in the parish registers by Henry Bull.

  The second and safer option for the Bulls was that Kate was simply reported as having died while visiting someone in Sudbury, and her body was then brought back to Borley at the Bulls' expense and buried in an unmarked grave in a seemingly commonplace service conducted by Henry Bull.

  They had achieved their aim of completely covering up a scandal, or so they thought, and for the time being, that was the end of the matter, which was henceforth merely the Bull family's 'misfortune'.

  That is how it remained, until years later, when a quiet Eurasian cleric was startled by a voice pleading, 'No Carlos. Don't!' ... and Borley Rectory's grisly secret began to leak out, the beginnings of Katie Boreham's spirit's struggle to have the truth revealed.

  The one thing that this suggested course of events does not allow for is the discovery in 1943 of the skull fragments in the ruins of the Rectory. The reader will be aware of the question as to whether or not the bones were those of the nun, or a plague victim, which is mentioned in the chapter about the séances, or whether they were the remains of Kate Boreham.

  Kate Boreham could not have been buried in two places at once, so if the skull fragments were those of Kate, then it was not she who was buried at the service on Easter Day, 1888. If that is the case, then what did happen at that time?

  The one obvious possibility is that Kate actually died in the Rectory and never left the house again. This means that her death was totally concealed and that no one actually died at Priory Walk, or that another unknown person died there and was buried at Borley ostensibly as Kate Boreham.

  If that is what occurred then one is faced with the possibility that Kate was disposed of beneath the Rectory cellar. The one major point that could support this proposition is the view of Dr David Whittaker, who reassessed the state of the teeth in the Borley skull from Dr Godden's report, and whose views are given in the chapter on the archaeology of Borley Rectory.

  The relevant point is that the wear on the first and second molar teeth suggested an age close to 30. Kate Boreham was 31 when she died. One thing that would certainly answer the query as to why one of the wells appeared to have been partly filled and a false bottom put in would be the alleged disposal of the dead baby, which would mean that what has been village gossip for so long is finally revealed to be only too true!

  It also means that the remains of the nun have not been found, and that the skull fragments buried at Liston are not hers either.

  Now, however, in the light of Professor Knight's details, we have a second scenario: in this version of events, there would have been the same basic background, in that Kate is assumed to have been a maid at the Rectory and during that time was involved in an affair and became pregnant. But in this instance, in an attempt to abort the pregnancy, she was either given or took lead acetate in some form. Possibly this occurred too late, and the child was born dead and Katie herself developed encephalitis from the absorption of the lead.

  Because of the potentially disastrous consequences for the Bull family, she was hurriedly taken away to the house in Sudbury, where she soon died and was written off as a victim of cerebritis.

  There is one final factor in this episode that must be resolved before we can close the book on Kate Boreham. With the allegation dating back many years that Henry Bull had relationships with village girls, there is also a claim that Henry died from a sexually transmitted disease.

  To discover the truth of this, I obtained a copy of Henry Bull's death certificate. At first glance, this death certificate gives no obvious clue to the layman that Henry Dawson Bull might have died as a result of some 'extra-curricular activities', because the stated cause of his death is given as 'Locomotor Ataxia', which affects the motor nerve and causes, among other things, failure of leg co-ordination when walking. A medical dictionary describes it as:

  'A degenerative disease of the spinal cord; a manifestation of tertiary syphilis allied to general paralysis of the insane.'

  It details the symptoms, such as failure of walking co-ordination, lack of reflexes, and so on. It is described as a progressive disease but today it is treatable, or at least controllable. In 1892, however, when Henry Dawson Bull died, it is unlikely that there would have been any treatment for this, but the most important item in terms of the stories about the Rector is the reference to tertiary syphilis!

  The dictionary also gives the term 'tabes dorsalis' under the heading 'Locomotor Ataxia'. When we turn to the heading 'Syphilis' later in the dictionary, we find a cross-link, 'tabes dorsalis'.

  Being aware of Professor Knight's comments about the accuracy of 19th-century causes of death, but assuming that the recorded cause of death was in this case correct, we now appear to have evidence that Henry Dawson Bull did indulge in affairs with other women, and paid the price when he was only 59 years old. Also we now have a sound basis for believing that Kate Boreham was one of Henry's 'affairs'.<
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  Whether one could ever make a strong legal case of this is questionable, but in terms of the basis for the disturbances at Borley Rectory, it seems to me that the scenario involving Henry Bull, Katie Boreham, the dead child and the sugar of lead is only strengthened by what has been discovered from a professor of pathology and a modern medical dictionary.

  CHAPTER 21

  Some Other Possibilities

  Having made a case for the Kate Boreham baby episode, I would suggest that in doing so we now also have an answer to the stories about the phantom carriage and the bay horses.

  When one tries to sort out the link between the carriage and the story of the nun, we keep coming up against an obstacle, namely that in terms of the story of the nun, the carriage is an anachronism.

  In the case of the 13th-century 'Novice of Bures' theory, the idea of the coach is absurd because they didn't exist in those days. In the case of the supposed death of Marie Lairre in 1667, the coach still doesn't really fit in. If the story of the nun was to do with the time of the French Revolution, and the suppression of expatriate English conventual orders on the Continent, then the coach becomes just vaguely possible. But when we come to the 19th century and the Bull family 'misfortune', the whole idea of a horse-drawn carriage drops readily into place.

  Consider one of the descriptions of the coach seen at Borley. It was said, by one witness, to look like 'an old-fashioned cab'. The four-wheeled cab belongs firmly to the days of Queen Victoria.

  Now let us recall the discarded séance contact, 'Joe Miles', who came to light during the Foysters' tenancy. I suggested earlier the possibility of an Italian migrant worker being involved in the construction of Borley Rectory, who might have been named Joe Miles for simplicity, when his real name could have been Guiseppi Milo. Remember the Italian fireplace in the dining room.