Authors: Kate Summerscale
THE WICKED BOY
THE WICKED BOY
The Mystery of a Victorian Child Murderer
Kate Summerscale
For Miranda and Keith
CONTENTS
  2
All I know is that we are rich
  3
I will tell you the truth
PART II:Â THE CITY OF THE DAMNED
  4
The machine and the abyss
10
The boys springing up amongst us
PART IV:Â THE MURDERERS' PARADISE
13
Those that know not what they do
PART V:Â WITH TRUMPETS AND SOUND OF CORNET
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In 1895, a British pound (£1) comprised 20 shillings (20/-) or 240 pence (240d). £1 could then buy the equivalent of goods that in 2014 cost roughly £100 ($150), and 1/- could buy goods that in 2014 cost about £5 (or $7.50). These comparisons, based on the Retail Price Index, are explained on the website
measuringworth.com
.
In
Life and Labour of the People: Volume I
(1889), the social reformer Charles Booth detailed the expenditure of several East London families. Over five weeks, a couple and their two sons with an annual income of about £70, slightly higher than that of the Coombes household, spent as follows:
Meat 19/1d
Potatoes 2/4d
Vegetables 1/1d
Fish 2/8d
Bacon &c 1/2d
Eggs 1/-
Cheese 4/10d
Suet 1/2d
Butter and dripping 5/10d
Bread 7/3d
Flour 1/11d
Rice, oatmeal &c 8d
Fruit, jam &c 6d
Sugar 3/5d
Milk 5/-
Tea 5/3d
Coffee, cocoa &c 2/11d
Pepper, salt &c 5d
Beer and tobacco 4/10d
Fire and light 9/-
Rent 22/6d
Washing and cleaning 3/4d
Clothes &c 22/9d
Education, medicine &c 1/-
Insurance &c 2/11d
Total over five weeks: 133/1d (approximately £6 13/-)
The average prices of some of these items:
Meat 7d per lb
Potatoes 1/2d per lb
Eggs 1d each
Cheese 8d per lb
Milk 4d per quart
Coffee 1/- per lb
Â
In June 1930 an eleven-year-old boy walked four miles along a dirt track in New South Wales, south-eastern Australia, to report a crime. He went into a police station in a village in the bush and told the officer on duty that he had been beaten with a brush hook. The boy showed the constable the evidence: his right arm and leg were heavily grazed and bruised; his nose, his left cheek and his right eye were dark with cuts and swellings. The policeman put the child in his car and set out to investigate. The incident was reported in the local press, but to protect the identity of the child neither his name nor that of his attacker was given.
Early in the morning of Monday 8 July 1895, Robert and Nathaniel Coombes dressed themselves, collected the family's rent book from a room downstairs, and went out to the back yard. It was just after 6 a.m. and
already bright and warm
.
Robert was thirteen and Nattie twelve. Their father had gone to sea on Friday, as chief steward on a steamship bound for New York, leaving the brothers and their mother, Emily, at home together. They lived in a small, new, yellow-brick terraced house at 35 Cave Road, Plaistow, a poor but respectable working-class district in West Ham, the biggest borough in the docklands of East London.
In an attempt to attract the attention of their neighbour in number 37, Robert picked up a handful of stones and threw them at the roof of the washhouse next door.
At 6.15 a.m. James Robertson heard the stones clattering on the washhouse roof and came out. Mr Robertson saw the two Coombes boys in their yard: Robert, dark-haired, with blue eyes, thick eyebrows and sun-tanned skin, and the paler, smaller Nattie. He knew them as sharp-witted lads. Robert produced a gold sovereign, worth twenty shillings (or £1), and asked Mr Robertson if he could change it for them. Mr Robertson said that he had no silver but offered to change the coin for two half-sovereigns. He fetched the two gold coins from his house. Robert then asked him if he would
pay the rent
on 35 Cave Road on their behalf as no one would be at home when the landlady called by later that morning. Mr Robertson agreed, and Robert gave him back one of the half-sovereigns along with the family's rent book. Robert explained that he and Nattie were going to watch the cricket at Lord's, in north London. Mr Robertson asked if their Ma was going with them.
âNo,' said Robert. âWe had a telegram late last night from Liverpool and she is going there. We've had a rich uncle die in Africa, and Auntie wants to see Ma.' Emily Coombes sometimes travelled to the north-west of England to visit her well-to-do older sister and her mother.
Mr Robertson asked whether she had gone already.
âNo,' said Robert. âShe is going directly. She has had a faint.' (Or âShe has had a fit'Â â when asked to recall the conversation, Mr Robertson could not be sure.)
âHow long ago was that?' enquired Mr Robertson.
Robert pulled a gold watch from his pocket and consulted it. âAbout an hour and a half ago,' he said.
Mr Robertson asked who was with their Ma. Robert jerked his thumb behind him, in the direction of the house. âMrs. . .'
âMrs England?' suggested Mr Robertson. Amelia England was the Coombes family's neighbour on the other side, and a close friend of Emily Coombes.
âNo,' said Robert. He did not explain further but added: âPerhaps Ma will see Mrs Robertson before she goes.'
The boys set out for Lord's.
Robert and Nattie were among more than 12,000 people to travel to St John's Wood that Monday to watch
the Gentlemen v Players match
, the fixture of the season at the most famous cricket ground in England. The streets near Lord's were lined with lawns and villas, and on the day of a big match they were packed with people, the men in top hats, bowlers, flat caps or straw boaters, the few women in dresses with bell skirts and high necks, their hats perched on pinned-up hair and their parasols tilted at the sun. A handful of police constables in domed helmets and flared jackets moved among the crowd.
The great draw that day was the legendary cricketer W. G. Grace, who, at forty-six, was enjoying an astonishing renaissance. He had just become the first player ever to score a thousand runs in the opening month of a season and was, according to the
Illustrated London News
, the most popular man in the British Isles. He would be batting for the Gentlemen, a team composed of well-born men who played for pleasure rather than profit. Their opponents, the Players, were professional cricketers, most of them of working-class stock. In theory, the match pitted those who were paid to play against those who were not, though many of the Gentlemen were known to benefit handsomely from tours, gifts and testimonials. Grace was foremost among cricket's âshamateurs'.