The Case of the Chocolate Cream Killer

by Jones, Kaye;

  At first glance, it is tempting to conclude that William Edmunds contracted syphilis as a bachelor and infected his wife at the time of their marriage. That Ann contracted syphilis is without question because the disease is passed primarily through sexual intercourse and contraception to prevent its spread did not exist at the time of their marriage. However, contemporaries knew that procreating in the shadow of syphilis was an inherently dangerous practice and warned young couples against it:

  It [syphilis] can take such severe forms, after marriage, that not only may a wife be affected from her husband, but the children born of the marriage may suffer to a serious extent; in other words, certain private diseases of the father, that have been contracted before marriage, can be transmitted in hideous and loathsome forms to his children.34

  The notion that syphilis passes congenitally is correct but the Victorian wrongly identified the father as the source of infection. Observations made in the twentieth century showed that syphilis is transmitted from mother to child in utero via the placenta or on contact with maternal blood during childbirth. Not every child born to an infected mother, however, will go on to develop congenital syphilis. In fact, the rate of transmission depends on the stage of the mother’s infection. According to modern studies, if she is recently infected, there is a 59 per cent chance that her baby will develop congenital syphilis but the likelihood decreases to 13 per cent chance for mothers in the more advanced phases.35

  Children who are born with congenital syphilis often develop symptoms in the first two years of life. These symptoms, which include fever, gastroenteritis and pneumonia, can be fatal to children of at such a young age. The health of William and Ann’s first four children: Christiana, William, Mary and Louisa, provides strong evidence against the idea that William contracted syphilis before his marriage in 1828. An analysis of the family tree suggests instead that William became infected around 1833, when his architectural work required his frequent absence from the family home. In this scenario, Frederick and Ellen were the first two victims of congenital syphilis in the Edmunds family and this idea is supported by the work of Max Kassovitz, a paediatrician and leading figure in the study of congenital syphilis. According to his law of 1875, congenital syphilis is defined by ‘the spontaneous gradual diminution in intensity of syphilitic transmission’.36 In other words, with each succeeding pregnancy, the effect of syphilis on a foetus will gradually decrease in intensity. This process takes around six to eight years, after which the mother is no longer infectious and therefore poses no threat to any further children.37

  After Ellen’s death, Ann did not deliver a baby for six years, a significant gap for a woman who generally birthed on a near-annual basis. It is probable, however, that she did fall pregnant during this period but succumbed to miscarriages that were not historically recorded. Modern studies have shown that women with syphilis are twelve times more likely to miscarry than those who are not infected.38 When Ann finally delivered a baby boy in October 1841, he appeared healthy and there was cause for optimism in the family, but this is not uncommon in cases of congenital syphilis, where approximately two-thirds of children display no symptoms at birth or in the first two years of life.39 Instead, the disease manifests later in childhood, as expressed in Kassovitz’s law, and seizures are one of the most widely-reported symptoms.40 These seizures are often accompanied by a build-up of fluid on the brain, known as hydrocephalus, which might also account for Arthur’s sudden irritability and violent behaviour.41 Whatever the case, Arthur’s health was steadily deteriorating and, unbeknown to his mother, history was about to repeat itself in the Edmunds household.

  Chapter Four

  “Exciting the Passions”

  By 1860, Arthur’s seizures and violent outbursts had become too much for his mother to bear and Ann found herself in a situation painfully reminiscent to the one she had experienced with her husband almost two decades earlier. Unable to cope with Arthur’s deteriorating condition, Ann placed her son in the Royal Earlswood Asylum, a purpose-built hospital for ‘idiots’ near Reigate in Surrey. Earlswood was a relatively new institution, built to replace a smaller asylum called Park House, and was officially opened by Prince Albert in July 1854. Unlike other institutions for the mentally ill, Earlswood prided itself on providing its patients with opportunities for education and employment in the hope that they might become financially independent and therefore less of a burden to their families.1 For this reason, the Board of Management prioritised the admission of children over older people, usually for a training period of five years but this could be extended to life, in more extreme cases.2 Once admitted, patients spent half of their day in lessons and the other half learning an occupation of which there was a wide range of choice, including carpentry, plumbing, tailoring and farming.3

  Arthur was admitted as a private patient to the Royal Earlswood in February 1860 and was described by the medical superintendent, Dr John Langdon-Down, as an ‘idiot’ and ‘imbecile’ who was suffering from epilepsy.4 Langdon-Down had joined the Royal Earlswood in 1858, despite having no formal training or experience in mental illness and developmental disabilities. What he did have, however, was a brilliant mind, a friendly manner and a genuine enthusiasm for his new post. During his time at the Royal Earlswood, he banned all forms of punishment and restraint, introduced amusements for the patients and introduced the teaching of basic skills, like using a knife and fork, alongside vocational training. He also improved the quality of the attendants who worked there5 in an attempt to raise the overall standard of care provided to patients. Within a few years of Langdon-Down’s arrival, the Royal Earlswood’s reputation was unrivalled by any other asylum in the country.

  Arthur’s removal to Earlswood left only his mother and Christiana at home. In 1856 Mary Edmunds had married Benjamin Edward Foreman, a clergyman, and had moved with him to Henley –on-Thames. By 1861, they had relocated to Worthing in Sussex, where Foreman worked as the incumbent of North Stoke, and had two children: Agnes Mary, born in 1858; and Ethel Burn, born in 1860. In those few short years, Christiana and her mother had moved house too: from the brush-maker’s house on St George’s Street, they went to Watling Street, and finally, to twenty-three Burgate Street, a confectioner’s shop with accommodation above. It was here that Louisa informed her mother and sister of her engagement to Julian Watson Bradshaw, a former Navy surgeon who was now in private practice in London.

  Louisa left her situation sometime before 1861 and took a new job in the home of Frederick Child, a printer, and his wife, Caroline, who lived in the St Giles area of London. Her work here was very different to Champion Hill because the children in her care were considerably younger and not at an age where education was necessary. Her three charges: Ernest, aged 4; Walter, aged 3; and Isabel, aged 2, required her constant supervision and assistance. Louisa did not stay long in St Giles, perhaps due to the demands of the children, and it is likely that she met her husband-to-be in a professional capacity, given that governesses had little free time and were generally not allowed to court while in employment. In the same year that Louisa left St Giles, Julian Watson Bradshaw was in need of a governess because his second wife, Mary Sarah, died suddenly, leaving him with the sole responsibility of caring for his nephew, Otto, and niece, Mary. It was not unusual for love to blossom between a governess and her employer, as famously portrayed in the novel, Jane Eyre, and the pair were married in the winter of 1862.

  From London, Julian and Louisa moved to her hometown of Margate and rented 31 Lower Marine Terrace, a pretty house facing the sea. Now the wife of a respected surgeon, Louisa did not work again and instead became the mistress of her own middle-class household. But these material comforts did not prevent repeated bouts of depression and hysteria. On one occasion, she attempted to throw herself from an upstairs window while ‘in a fit’ and was saved only by the quick reactions of a servant.6 On 28 June 1867, Louisa collapsed outside of her home on Marine Terrace and died shortly after. She was only 36-y
ears-old and died in the presence of her friend and neighbour, Eliza Stevens. Her death certificate cites menorrhagia, or heavy periods, and ‘effusion and exhaustion’ as the causes of her sudden demise. Evidently, Louisa suffered from some gynaecological complaint, perhaps endometriosis, and this might also explain why she bore no children during her five years of marriage; an unusual situation in an era without contraception. That she died from having a period, however, is extremely unlikely, but it is important to remember that Victorian death attributions were often vague and ambiguous, especially to modern readers.

  This wasn’t the only tragedy to befall the Edmunds family in the late 1860s. One year before his sister, on 11 January 1866, Arthur Edmunds died in the Royal Earlswood Asylum. The causes of his death were cited as epilepsy, a condition he had for ten years, and marasmus, a chronic state of severe malnutrition, from which he suffered for two months. Given the high standard of care in Earlswood at this time, it is unlikely that Arthur starved as a result of neglect or abuse. In fact, modern studies have shown that marasmus has a wide range of causes, including bacterial or viral infections, lactose intolerance and Crohn’s disease.7 It is also possible that a high number of seizures prevented Arthur from eating adequate food at the asylum’s specified meal times. After the deaths of Arthur and Louisa, Ann and Christiana did not stay in Canterbury. For the second time, they decided to start afresh and build a new life in a new town. They headed further afield this time and left the county of Kent, heading west to East Sussex and to the seaside town of Brighton.

  Like Margate, Brighton had rapidly developed in the mideighteenth century as a result of the popularity of sea-bathing. The man responsible for this sudden interest in the sea’s medicinal properties, Dr Richard Russell, had set up his practice in the town in the 1750s, placing Brighton at the centre of this trend. While medical trends come and go, the visit of the Prince of Wales, later King George IV, to the town in 1783 guaranteed Brighton’s reputation as one of the most fashionable resorts in the country.8 George so enjoyed his visit to the town that he soon began the construction of a summer residence, the Royal Pavilion, which would become the ultimate symbol of opulence and pleasure in Regency England. As royal patronage transformed Brighton’s fortunes, housing developments, businesses and attractions sprang up to meet the demands of its new wealthy clientele. By the 1820s, Brighton had become the fastest-growing town in the country and the home of the first purpose-built pleasure pier in England. Royal patronage of the town continued under George’s heir, William IV (1830–1837) but Queen Victoria (1837–1901) did not share her predecessor’s enthusiasm for the Royal Pavilion. She found it unsuitable for her growing family and sold it to the town of Brighton for £50,000 in 1850. This loss of patronage did not hamper Brighton’s growth, however, thanks to the arrival of the railway in 1841. Brighton was now more accessible than ever and, by 1860, was welcoming by train over 250,000 people every year.9

  By the time Christiana and her mother arrived in Brighton in 1867, the town had over 77,000 inhabitants and was at the height of its popularity. The pair rented rooms at 15 Marlborough Place, a large house in the centre of Brighton and close to the Royal Pavilion and the seafront. The house belonged to George Over, an accountant and auctioneer, and his wife, Alice, with whom Christiana and her mother became instant friends. Sometime after their arrival, the Overs introduced Christiana to Dr Charles Beard, the man who would become her physician and a major force in the course of her life. Beard worked from his home at 64 Grand Parade, just across the road from Marlborough Place, and was friendly, of good standing in the community and well-respected in his profession. Charles had studied medicine at the prestigious Trinity College, Cambridge, having enrolled there in July 1846, at the age of 18. He received his Bachelor of Medicine in 1855, his Medical Licence in 1857 and spent time as a student at St Bartholomew’s Hospital in London. This was an impressive resumé and Charles had no shortage of patients when he set up his private practice in Brighton around 1861. Between tending to the town’s wealthy residents, he also worked at the Sussex County Hospital and travelled frequently to the north where he became the Government Inspector of Vaccinations in the Midlands and later in the West Riding area of Yorkshire.

  Very little is known about Christiana’s medical history in this period but she did suffer with neuralgia, an illness possibly diagnosed by Dr Beard. Neuralgia is a condition which causes pain along the course of a nerve and commonly presents in the hands and face. In the nineteenth century, it was routinely treated with quinine and iron, a mixture which Christiana purchased from Isaac Garrett, a chemist with premises on Western Road and later on Queen’s Road.10 Neuralgia was frequently attributed to hysteria by nineteenth century physicians but whether Dr Beard knew of Christiana’s previous bouts of hysteria or her trip to London in 1853 remains unknown. It is unlikely that she told him about her father and brother’s deaths in the asylum, for fear that she and her mother might be socially ostracised in their new hometown.

  The professional relationship between Christiana and Dr Beard soon blossomed into friendship. She listened with interest to the stories of his travels to the north and of his military escapades in Italy, back in 1860 when he had joined the British Volunteers and assisted General Garibaldi. He learned of Christiana’s artistic skills and asked her to copy some anatomical drawings to hang on the walls of the Sussex County Hospital. She began writing letters to him, as many as three per week, and visited him as often as possible.11 This attachment towards Dr Beard has been the subject of intense speculation since 1870, as contemporaries and modern writers have tried to understand the nature of their relationship. The lack of surviving evidence has made this a very difficult question to answer but the view that Christiana’s case was one of unrequited love has become the consensus view. It is important to note, however, Dr Beard did not actively discourage her affections during this period. He continued to receive her letters and did not stop seeing her, either professionally or personally. At the very least, then, Dr Beard felt flattered by Christiana’s attention and may have enjoyed a little flirtation. But Christiana’s feelings advanced quickly into an unhealthy obsession which effected great changes in her personality and demeanour. Her landlords, George and Alice Over, were some of the first people to notice these changes. The ‘ladylike, quiet and kind’ woman who had arrived in Brighton just a few years earlier had been replaced by a woman consumed by her passions. The ‘wildness in her look’ and her edgy, excited manner made them feel uncomfortable12 and may explain why Christiana and her mother left the house and moved elsewhere. They took rooms on the street adjacent, at 17 Gloucester Place, but the move had no impact on Christiana’s relationship with Dr Beard. She continued to write to him frequently, to talk of him endlessly and to devise new means of attracting his attention. Ann became increasingly worried about Christiana but she was powerless to alter her state of mind. Ann would later admit that she had always dreaded this time of her daughter’s life and she certainly had her reasons for doing so. For a start, Christiana was 42 years old when she became consumed by her passion for Dr Beard, the same age as her father when he first displayed the symptoms of insanity.13 In Ann’s mind, this was no coincidence: it was confirmation of hereditary transmission, that dreaded biological taint which corrupted generations of a family. Even if Ann could somehow lessen her daughter’s attachment to Dr Beard, there was no guarantee that she could undo the damage to Christiana’s mind. But Ann could not completely lay the blame for Christiana’s apparent insanity on her husband. In fact, Ann’s family had its own secret history of madness which began with her own father, John Burn.

  Burn was born in Rochester in Kent in the summer of 1775 and died eight years before the birth of his granddaughter, Christiana, in 1828. Burn was, perhaps, encouraged to join the Royal Marines by his own father, the great Major-General John Burn, whose memoirs and life story were posthumously published in 1840. We know far less about his son’s naval career, however, and even less about his s
tate of mind. Ann would later recall that her father was ‘subject to fits’ and ‘quite childish’ at times but this did not prevent him from maintaining his employment: he joined the Royal Marines as a Captain in 179814 and was promoted to the rank of Major in 1814. According to Ann, he spent his final days fastened to a chair and died ‘in a fit’ on October 13 1820, at the age of 45.

  While insanity appears to have passed over Ann Edmunds and her six siblings, it reared its ugly head in the next generation of the family. This time it was Ellen, the daughter of Ann’s older brother, John Southerden Burn, who was born in 1826. From early childhood, Ellen was described by the family as being ‘quite imbecile’ and had a ‘weakness of intellect.’15 Clearly she suffered from some developmental disabilities but there are no surviving medical records which detail the exact nature of her problems. When her mother died in 1847, Ellen did not stay with her father in London but was instead sent to live with various members of the Burns family and spent several years with Ann and Christiana when they lived in Canterbury.

  There was likely a third reason why Ann came to fear this time of Christiana’s life: she was quickly approaching her menopause, an event which Victorian doctors linked to certain mental disorders, like hysteria, melancholia, and impulsive behaviours, like drinking spirits and stealing. The famous gynaecologist, Edward Tilt, even claimed that the menopause could induce a woman to murder.16 Because the menopause so profoundly affected a woman, Tilt and his colleagues encouraged a morally wholesome lifestyle, which included the repression of sexual feeling, until the change was over and the ‘tranquillity of mind’ returns.17 This, then, was a dangerous time for Christiana but she showed no sign of relenting her quest for Dr Beard, no matter what her mother told her.