A Burglar Caught by a Skeleton & Other Singular Tales from the Victorian Press (24 page)

Exciting Scene at a Football Match

An extraordinary and exciting scene was witnessed on Christmas afternoon, on the Blackburn Rovers’ football ground at Ewood.

The Rovers were advertised to play the Darwen men, and as there has always been a great deal of rivalry between the teams quite 5,000 spectators paid a double admission fee, a large majority of them coming from Darwen.

The sudden thaw of Christmas Eve was followed by a sharp frost, and when the time announced for play arrived the field was literally a sheet of ice, on which it was impossible to walk with safety.

Under these circumstances, the committee of the Rovers, in view of the fact that they had next day to play Wolverhampton Wanderers, sent out their second team. The Darwen players followed on the field, but as soon as the spectators detected the composition of the Rovers’ team there were angry shouts from the Darwen supporters, culminating in an uproarious command to their men to retire.

After a consultation, Marsden, the Darwen captain, led his men back to the dressing-room amid tumultuous cheering. After a short pause the Darwen second string appeared on the field, but at this point a mob of spectators got over the barriers, and over-ran the field, finally surrounding the dressing-rooms in a very threatening manner.

The force of police on the ground was very small, and utterly unable to cope with the mob, many of whom were seen to pick up large boulder stones. The squabbling among the ‘authorities’ of the clubs continued for some time, and then it was announced that the match was abandoned, and that spectators would receive tickets for another match.

A large number availed themselves of this intimation and left the ground, but some 2,000 remained, and after smashing the window of the dressing-room, rushed to the goal posts which they tore down and smashed to fragments. They then invaded the grand stand, and stripping the seats of the carpet covering, carried them into the enclosure, and cut them to shreds.

The huge flag which floated over the entrance gates was also torn down and destroyed. Mr Mark Russell, one of the Rovers’ committee, was recognised and savagely assaulted, and a ground man coming to his rescue, received a severe kick on the ankle. Mr T. Eastwood, secretary of the East Lancashire Cricket Club, was mistaken for an official, and was threatened by a number of roughs, although he explained that he was not connected with the club.

Many other serious cases of assault took place, and it was two hours before the crowd thinned down enough to enable the police to clear the ground and release the besieged officials and players. The gate receipts, which would amount to a very heavy sum, were conveyed to a place of safety as soon as matters looked threatening.

No such scene has been witnessed on the Blackburn Rovers’ ground since the memorable occasion, nine years ago, when a dispute between Suter, of the Rovers, and Marshall, of Darwen, caused wild disorder.

The Western Mail
, Cardiff, December 29, 1890

Extraordinary Golf Incident

While the members of a Kenilworth Golf Club were playing a mixed four on Saturday a remarkable incident took place.

One of the players, Mr G.W. Hume, made a fine drive, the ball when in mid-air striking a chaffinch and cutting its head completely off. Such an incident as this, it is believed, has never previously happened in connection with the history of the game.

The Daily Mail
, Hull, April 13, 1897

INVENTIONS

Preface

James Boyle had a lightbulb moment. A nifty solution to one of the niggles of the age. To that one part inspiration he added the nine parts perspiration the old adage demands, sketched out the technical details and strode off purposefully to make it all official.

The result was US patent number 556248: a saluting hat designed to take the inconvenience out of greeting passing ladies.

Here’s how it worked, according to the Middlesbrough
Daily Gazette
of April 1896. ‘When the wearer bows the swinging of a pivoted weight block pushes a rod whereby a spring is released and an arm is operated to raise a bow piece to which the edges …’ Oh, it tipped itself when you bowed; let’s just leave it at that.

Why would you need such a thing? Because a Victorian gentleman was bedevilled by etiquette that required him to tip his hat at each gentlewoman he encountered. Not such a problem at a chap’s club; rather draining at a la-di-da do.

‘Much valuable energy is utilized in tipping the hat repeatedly and my device will relieve one of it and at once cause the hat to be lifted from the head in a natural manner’, said Boyle’s patent. Necessity may be the mother of invention, as Agatha Christie sort-of once said, but indolence is its dad.

And if not indolence, then delusion. This may have been a golden age of invention, when scientists, engineers, clergymen and workshop-dabblers delivered breakthrough after breakthrough, but for every Edison, Marconi or Nobel, there were Boyles aplenty. Patents were filed for luminous ghosts to scare off grave-robbers, for ploughs with cannon attachments for blasting crows, for food-graters-cum-fly-traps and for pasteboard cats coated in phosphorous to terrify mice.

There was one for a tapeworm fish hook too. ‘That speaks for itself’, sniffed the
Derby Daily Telegraph
in March 1890. But in case it doesn’t, the uncomfortable details are on page
136
.

A Victim to His Own Invention

America is ever supplying us with famous stories, and that of Samuel Wardell, of Flatbush, U.S., ranks amongst the number.

Wardell lived alone. For about two years he had been a lamplighter. In order to get up at five in the morning he was in the habit of putting a 10lb stone on the shelf, connected by a wire with an alarm clock.

When the alarm struck the wire pulled a catch which let the shelf fall, and the stone then fell on the floor with a big thump. The noise would awaken Wardell, who would jump up and run off to put out the lamps.

On Christmas Eve he invited about 30 young men of the town to supper. As Samuel only had one room in the house, he had removed all his furniture into the cellar. After the company had left he carried back his bedstead into the room, and, being tired, did not pay particular attention where he placed it, and worse than all, forgot all about his clock.

It happened that when he stretched himself on the bed his head was directly under the shelf. When the alarm went off at five o’clock the shelf dropped, and the stone fell on Wardell’s head, crushing the skull. He was subsequently discovered by a friend, and was taken to the hospital, where he died.

The Citizen
, Gloucester, January 19, 1886