Things that go bump in the night...
Seems 'Little Monster' has taken an interest in all things spooky lately. One story she finds fascinating is the one of Mary Ann Cotton. Mary poisoned her husbands and even her own children in the 1800's, and her story seems to have reached out and grabbed the local kids again. Seems we all like ghosty stories now and then....but Mary's tale isn't fiction.
Monster couldn't remember the rhyme that local children used to sing about Mary. So for 'Little Monster' and anyone else for that matter who hasn't heard the tale, here's the rhyme and a brief history lesson.....
Mary Ann Cotton
She’s dead and she’s rotten
She lies in her bed
With eyes wide open.
Sing, sing, oh, what can I sing,
Mary Ann Cotton is tied up with string.
Where, where? Up in the air
Sellin’ black puddens a penny a pair.
Mary Ann Cotton
She’s dead and forgotten,
She lies in a grave with her bones all-rotten;
Sing, sing, oh, what can we sing,
Mary Ann Cotton is tied up with string.
The story behind the rhyme starts in 1832 when Mary was born – the daughter of Michael Robson, a miner at Hazard Pit, East Rainton.
At fourteen she was initiated into the world of death when she witnessed her father’s mangled body being brought back from the pit. Neighbours must have thought her life was to filled with tragedies when after marrying Will Mowbray at the age of 19, four of their five children all died from “gastric fever”.
Months later, after moving to Hendon, Will died and Mary was left widowed – but rich from the insurance policies she had taken out on her family.
After getting a job in the Sunderland Infirmary, she married one of the inmates, George Ward, and the couple moved to Grey Street, but within a year, he too was dead. Only weeks after his burial she married James Robinson, a shipyard foreman and a widower who lived at Pallion. Within the year four of his children and her one remaining child – again from “gastric fever”.
But Robinson became suspicious after he found she had debts of £60 and was taking out another insurance policy – this time on him! He kicked her out on the streets, leaving her to wander around Wearside for 18 months before becoming housekeeper to Fred Cotton.
The couple set up home at West Auckland but Mr Cotton died in September 1871 – again from “fever”. A familiar pattern had developed.
Mary took in a lodger, Joseph Mattrass, but within months he and his two children had passed away. The fact that no suspicions were aroused was due to the very high mortality rate, especially among children, in Victorian England and because she moved around the region, switching insurance companies.
And so the saga would have continued had it not been for Mary telling a neighbour that her seven-year-old son Charles Cotton was misbehaving and he would so “go like the other Cottons”. When the boy died a few weeks later, the police were called in. A post mortem examination revealed arsenic in his stomach.
It didn’t take long for detectives to find out about her 15 previous victims and in 1873 she was convicted at Durham Assizes – despite claiming the poisonings must have been caused by her chemist preparing medicines incorrectly.
Even in Durham Jail, Mary tried to continue poison children. Left in her cell with her baby daughter she was caught trying to hide a piece of soap up her sleeve. Soap was often eaten by prisoners to deliberately make themselves ill, but in this case she intended to poison her baby to delay the execution.
Her next attempt to save her neck was to write to her lodger, William Lowery, pleading with him to get up a petition to call off the hanging, but he refused, telling her that there was no hope. As her execution drew closer, she asked for a Wesleyan minister, and spent several hours about her childhood in the chapel and Sunday school.
But despite all the stalling attempts, the day of her execution arrived – March 24th
The morning was damp and misty, and she left her cell and started to walk across the yard, with the death bell sounding in the prison.
Dozens of reporters and medical students watched her step onto the platform to have the noose placed around her neckas she shook uncontrollably, repeatedly saying “Lord Have Mercy On My Soul”.
Her hangman was William Calcroft – a keen admirer of the short ropes because ‘long ropes’ often resulted in the prisoner’s head been wrenched off. But the short drop had its disadvantages – as the crowd were to learn to their horror.
When the trap doors burst open and Mary fell, the drop was not far enough to kill her and her body jerked violently, swinging and bouncing as she fought for life.
For nearly three minutes the spectators watched in horror as she wriggled and writhed before eventually choking to death.
But her grotesque death brought little sympathy from the outside world and within days of her being buried inside the prison grounds, children gathered outside to sing their gruesome rhymes.
Monster couldn't remember the rhyme that local children used to sing about Mary. So for 'Little Monster' and anyone else for that matter who hasn't heard the tale, here's the rhyme and a brief history lesson.....
Mary Ann Cotton
She’s dead and she’s rotten
She lies in her bed
With eyes wide open.
Sing, sing, oh, what can I sing,
Mary Ann Cotton is tied up with string.
Where, where? Up in the air
Sellin’ black puddens a penny a pair.
Mary Ann Cotton
She’s dead and forgotten,
She lies in a grave with her bones all-rotten;
Sing, sing, oh, what can we sing,
Mary Ann Cotton is tied up with string.
The story behind the rhyme starts in 1832 when Mary was born – the daughter of Michael Robson, a miner at Hazard Pit, East Rainton.
At fourteen she was initiated into the world of death when she witnessed her father’s mangled body being brought back from the pit. Neighbours must have thought her life was to filled with tragedies when after marrying Will Mowbray at the age of 19, four of their five children all died from “gastric fever”.
Months later, after moving to Hendon, Will died and Mary was left widowed – but rich from the insurance policies she had taken out on her family.
After getting a job in the Sunderland Infirmary, she married one of the inmates, George Ward, and the couple moved to Grey Street, but within a year, he too was dead. Only weeks after his burial she married James Robinson, a shipyard foreman and a widower who lived at Pallion. Within the year four of his children and her one remaining child – again from “gastric fever”.
But Robinson became suspicious after he found she had debts of £60 and was taking out another insurance policy – this time on him! He kicked her out on the streets, leaving her to wander around Wearside for 18 months before becoming housekeeper to Fred Cotton.
The couple set up home at West Auckland but Mr Cotton died in September 1871 – again from “fever”. A familiar pattern had developed.
Mary took in a lodger, Joseph Mattrass, but within months he and his two children had passed away. The fact that no suspicions were aroused was due to the very high mortality rate, especially among children, in Victorian England and because she moved around the region, switching insurance companies.
And so the saga would have continued had it not been for Mary telling a neighbour that her seven-year-old son Charles Cotton was misbehaving and he would so “go like the other Cottons”. When the boy died a few weeks later, the police were called in. A post mortem examination revealed arsenic in his stomach.
It didn’t take long for detectives to find out about her 15 previous victims and in 1873 she was convicted at Durham Assizes – despite claiming the poisonings must have been caused by her chemist preparing medicines incorrectly.
Even in Durham Jail, Mary tried to continue poison children. Left in her cell with her baby daughter she was caught trying to hide a piece of soap up her sleeve. Soap was often eaten by prisoners to deliberately make themselves ill, but in this case she intended to poison her baby to delay the execution.
Her next attempt to save her neck was to write to her lodger, William Lowery, pleading with him to get up a petition to call off the hanging, but he refused, telling her that there was no hope. As her execution drew closer, she asked for a Wesleyan minister, and spent several hours about her childhood in the chapel and Sunday school.
But despite all the stalling attempts, the day of her execution arrived – March 24th
The morning was damp and misty, and she left her cell and started to walk across the yard, with the death bell sounding in the prison.
Dozens of reporters and medical students watched her step onto the platform to have the noose placed around her neckas she shook uncontrollably, repeatedly saying “Lord Have Mercy On My Soul”.
Her hangman was William Calcroft – a keen admirer of the short ropes because ‘long ropes’ often resulted in the prisoner’s head been wrenched off. But the short drop had its disadvantages – as the crowd were to learn to their horror.
When the trap doors burst open and Mary fell, the drop was not far enough to kill her and her body jerked violently, swinging and bouncing as she fought for life.
For nearly three minutes the spectators watched in horror as she wriggled and writhed before eventually choking to death.
But her grotesque death brought little sympathy from the outside world and within days of her being buried inside the prison grounds, children gathered outside to sing their gruesome rhymes.
posted by Cheeky @ 9:53 PM
2 comments
2 Comments:
Thanx Chee..i enjoyed reading about Mary Ann Cotton..interesting stuff..have they ever made a documentary or movie and her life ?
No movie to date, well not to my knowledge.Plenty of local snippits on the odd program. One thing her story has taught me to do, is try Carols cooking on the cat first, before I taste it...You never know.
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