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This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Do you ever find yourself playing the budgeting game? Well, with the name your price tool from Progressive, you can find options that fit your budget and potentially lower your bills. Try it@progressive.com progressive casualty insurance company and affiliates price and coverage match limited by state law. Not available in all states. Hello, and welcome to my Victorian Nightmare. I'm your host, Genevieve Mannion, and I'm here to talk about mysterious deaths, morbid fascinations, disturbing stories, and otherwise spooky events from the Victorian era. Because to me, there's just something especially intriguing, creepy and oddly comforting about horror and mayhem from the 19th century. So listener discretion is advised. Hello, friends, and welcome to this, my 77th episode. I hope that the threads you're holding on by are taut, strong, steadfast. Mine is still intact for the moment, but I am afraid it may be greased. Disappointing turn of events. Doing my best not to slip. How about you? In all honesty, I really hope that you are all holding it together. And if you're not, that's okay too. It's to be expected when lunatics have taken over an asylum. In fact, it's kind of weird to be totally cool in that kind of situation. All I can say at this time, as a darkness covers over us, as in any dark time, it is of utmost most importance that those capable of glowing be the light. Not to distract, not to deny the darkness, but to light the way for ourselves and others who have very hard work to do. I am doing as the Theravadan Buddhist monks who have been walking every day from Texas to D.C. have reminded me to do. I am offering loving kindness to myself and everyone every morning and every night, including the monsters, keeping my heart open in hopes that I may open other hearts. These dark times rely on closed hearts. Without closed hearts, these dark times cannot continue. Just a little reminder, may we all let that sink in before I discuss some terrible things that have happened in the past and are no more. Just like the terrible things and people of the present, one day will be no more. Ah. Let us have a little haunted housekeeping. Thank you to Susan, Sadie, Ivy, Lisa and Buddy for subscribing to the show this past week. You are the reason why my show exists. Without you, it wouldn't. So thank you. I have been talking a lot about protecting our energy, especially in these times on the Fan coven, how and why to do it from a witchcraft perspective. If you're interested in that kind of thing, I will likely be putting more time into discussing that particular topic. In the months ahead, along with all of the other fun stuff that we discuss and the horrifying true crime extras, I am discussing the Red Barn murder of 1827 this week, which which takes a Frankensteinian turn in the end that I didn't see coming myself. It is grossly fascinating, I'll say. But today for you, dear listener, I will have Astro projecting an interview with a dead woman, skeletons found in a beer vat, terrible mutilations, an unexpected corpse, a number of unexpected corpses today actually, diamond studded murder weapons, and much, much more. All courtesy of the Illustrat Police News, Law Courts and Record, our favorite completely unreliable, charmingly horrible, fabulously illustrated publication from the 1800s. But before we get to the meat of the episode, the Chicken Wing and before we get to our regular segment of With Their Own Eyes, I have a very fascinating little awful if true bit of information for you now. I have been working on a very, very exciting project related to Edgar Allan Poe for a few months now, and I will hopefully be unveiling it in a couple of weeks. But while digging deep into his history, I came across a bit of information about his burial that is almost too much to take that very few people are aware of. In episode three I talked about his mysterious death and I mentioned some impossibly heartbreaking facts. Like he was buried with nothing but a sandstone marker with the number eight on it because even though his cousin bought him a headstone, in the morning of his funeral a train derailed and blasted through the monument yard where the stone was kept before the funeral and smashed it to pieces. Some other awful There were only about seven or eight people at the funeral and only four or five who actually even knew him. His beloved mother in law, Maria Clemm and fiance didn't even hear that he was dead until they read it in the papers. It just gets worse and worse. But a number of years later, folks who appreciated Poe's work had his body moved to a far more fitting resting place with a beautiful stone. His wife Virginia was also moved so that they could be buried next to one another. And it all sounds like at least some good came after all of that awfulness. But get this, they may have dug up the wrong body. It may have been a man named Philip Mosher Jr. Who died of scarlet fever. He was a private in the War of 1812 that may have mistakenly been dug up and placed in Poe's new grave in 1875. The sexton that was present at Poe's funeral said that Poe's coffin was made of oak, lead lined and bore a brass plate with his birth and death. The coffin that they exhumed was mahogany, not oak. And between the time Poe was buried and the new resting place was created, the stones in the churchyard had been unturned when a new entrance to the cemetery was built during the Civil War. So exact locations of bodies would have been more difficult to find. There was also a claim by the Sexton. This was all said to a police commissioner, by the way, named John C. Legg. He put all of this into a report that Poe's body actually wasn't there at all. He said his body was stolen by French grave robbers in 1867. Now how did this Sexton know they were French? So there's like a little hmm to the story. Now, there is indeed documented evidence that the stones were turned in the cemetery, just as the Sexton said. However, and let's hope that this is true, Poe's uncle who purchased his coffin said it was not oak, it was indeed mahogany. Also, Poe didn't have any stone to turn. Again, it was just a marker with the number eight on it grown over with ivy and moss. And the stone of Poe's grandfather, who he was originally buried next to, also had just a marker, not a stone. And the people who did the exhumation were also using the placement of his grandfather to know exactly where to dig. But it's just another layer of possible horror added to the absolutely, almost comically tragic burial story of Edgar Allan Poe that I wanted to share with you on this fine Monday. Imagine if edibles just made you feel good instead of too high. Consistent, mellow and super delicious Lume Gummies are specifically designed to make you feel good, not stoned. Whether you're looking for an end of day de stressor, a midday mood boost, or help getting the best sleep ever, Lume Gummies is a strain that's right for you. With all of the very destabilizing, anxiety inducing situations happening all at once around me, an intriguing friend, an old symptom that I used to experience with my anxiety has returned and I have been using the Sour Strawberry cookies gummies to help. It is called Phantosmia. Olfactory hallucinations brought on by anxiety. I literally smell things that aren't there. Sometimes it's burning rubber, sometimes it's metallic. This has happened before, so I know what it is. But knowing what it is doesn't make it go away. I decided to try Lumi's hybrid Sour Strawberry Gummies which, which don't make me sleepy. They Also, don't give me like a wild energy boost, but they do take the edge off and they make this weird symptom subside for me. I don't know if they'll work the same for your weird anxiety symptoms, but they might. After all, that's what they're for. They chill you out. But again, not so much that I can't get my work done. They don't make me high, they just make me okay, Lumi Gummies are available nationwide. Go to lumigummies.com that's that's L U M I gummies.com and use code victorian for 30% off your order. Again, that's L U M I Gummies.com code victorian lumigummies.com code victorian okay, let us have our lovely segment With Their own eyes where I share with you the personal, haunting accounts of petrified Victorians. I love this short and creepy little article from the Sydney Journal. In 1870, it reads, a curious case of the apparition of a living person is recorded as occurring not long ago at Clifton. A lady and her husband were walking among the fields beyond the downs. Suddenly both observed a figure resembling the wife's brother walking hastily toward them, and the wife exclaimed, good heavens, there is Charlie. Charlie was an awful officer then in India. The figure approached still nearer and then lightly leaped upon a bank as if to join his sister and brother in law. At that instant it vanished from their sight. The lady was so impressed with the vision that she wrote down an account of it immediately on returning home and waited with great trepidation for news from India. The mail brought her a letter from her brother dated the day after her sister singular vision and containing the remark I saw you quite clearly in a dream last night. You were walking in a path with your husband and I ran to meet you and jumped over a fence to join you. But at the moment, unluckily, I awoke. End quote. This sounds like what spiritualists called a double, essentially an astro projected spirit of a living person. I actually had an experience similar to this in high school. But it was me and a friend who showed up in each other's dreams on the same night. And it was the same dream, only she was in her part of it and I was in mine. I was in a room with a busted static tv. It's still so vivid in my mind and my memory. And I heard my friend outside my window asking to be let into the house, knocking on my front door. But when I went to the door, she wasn't there. The next day. I told her about it because even though like nothing particularly weird happened, it was just one of those dreams that stayed with you and she turned white and she said she dreamt that she was knocking on my front door wanting to get in, but then the door opened and no one was there. Now she could have been lying, but that wasn't like her at all. I was the weird one in the friendship. She was like my straight woman at 15 years old. Have you ever had an experience like this? I love those kinds of stories. Let me know in the comments. Okay, let us now make our way to the seance room where I discuss the goings on in the Spiritualist society of the 1800s. I found a very interesting interview in the Spiritualist, an interview with a dead woman. The spirit of a woman who was named Miss Farnham answered a number of very interesting questions while using the body of a medium named Mrs. Perrin to deliver her answers, all genuinely fascinating for a number of reasons. The questions and answers were as follows. How do you move tables? Was the first question the Spirit said, tables are moved in many ways. Sometimes spirit hands are placed over the hands of the members of the circle and they can draw the table up. Sometimes they lift it by concentrating force underneath. Sometimes also the power falls from above, looking like light, and lifts the table, power composed of magnetic forces. The next question was have you ever seen God? The Spirit said, we are still in ignorance of what is the Great I am, and I have never seen him, as some on earth say we have, except in surrounding objects, in landscapes bright and fair, in the hues of the rainbow, and in the emotions of the bosom. Thus do we behold God. But but in no other way. The next question have you ever seen Jesus? The Spirit said, I have never seen Jesus of Nazareth, but have heard him spoken of as a great prophet inspired beyond the ordinary degree. The next question but did he work miracles? The Spirit said, we do not acknowledge miracles. There are nothing but natural laws. We know that upon earth there will again be greater men than Jesus of Nazareth. And why will men keep on saying that he is higher than others? Why ignore the prophets before him, and the martyrs after him, who also laid down their lives for the truth? The next question Is Jesus God the Spirit? Answer no. Next question Is he the principal representative of God? The Spirit's answer no. God is so grand that he needs no form like that of man to represent Himself. He has stamped himself and his divinity in his laws. God is not the Trinity, which man for his own purposes has set him forth to be what is the difference between soul and spirit and the spirit? If your spirit or vital spark once left your earthly body, it would never return, but the soul might go, carrying some of your brain power with it, and could then even move a table at a spirit circle. This is the double as known to you spiritualists. In such cases, the body of the person who thus acts at a distance is always in a state of sleep or stupor. And the final question, where are you yourself now? The spirit answered, I am in the medium. Her vital spark is here, here, and there's a little bracket pointing to the space between the right shoulder and the ear. Her soul is at home with her baby, but in an instant I can call back the soul or double and all will be right again. I continue to find it so fascinating that to people who were for the most part Christians, that these kinds of answers would be considered blasphemous at the time and to many people today. And they're all sitting there like, okay, Jesus Christ isn't special. Got it? Now, whether or not this medium was actually communicating with the spirit or not, I really wonder how these common communications with spirits at seances affected people religiously. I've seen very similar answers from other spirit communications in other articles and papers. I wonder if it made them question their Christianity. I also find it interesting that they asked about the difference between a soul and spirit and that the dead woman communicating said that they are two different things. Almost like spirit is a power source in a way, but the soul is you. I love that the medium spirit had a specific location between the right shoulder and ear. Currently my spirit is wrapped in a cat shaped heating pad because I threw my neck out. Again, I wonder if that affects things. Okay, our first Illustrated Police News article is simply astounding, with an equally astounding illustration on the Instagram. Every time I think I've seen the weirdest, creepiest holy shit of an illustration, this paper just tops itself over and over again. Take a look. The link is in the show notes and this article is Two dead men found at the bottom of a beer vat in a brewery in Baltimore. That was so hard to read. One more time. Two dead men found at the bottom of a beer vat in a brewery in Baltimore, Maryland. And it reads, quite an interesting occurrence took place recently in a successful brewery in Baltimore. In cleaning out an immense vat, an operation performed about once a year, the workmen came upon two gentlemen seated opposite each other upon the bottom. The vat held some thousands of gallons of beer and had been frequently refilled during the year. A n consequence of their sojourn on the floor, which had apparently been of some duration, was that the individuals were plainly deficient in flesh and other corporeal essences. In fact, they presented the appearance of some respectable bones attired in dark coffee colored suits. One had on his hat, the other was sitting on his, but had expanded over his head a large silk umbrella. Both were to all appearances dead, and experienced people around the establishment affirmed that they must have been there several months. The proprietor of the brewery was summoned and on putting on his spectacles, recognized his missing grandfather by his watch chain and umbrella, but could not identify the other as he possessed no recognizable trademarks. Their valuables were removed and each was given a smart slap on the back which caused them to collapse into a heap. They were then shoveled into a wheelbarrow and dumped into an ash barrel where they rest in pie. Owing to the high character of the beer made at this establishment, these occurrences are never made public. In this instance, they transpired only because a habitual drinker of the beer recognized the flavor of his missing father and going to the brewery to inquire after him, established the identity of the second party in a vat. Alright, what the flavors of his missing father. It's hard sometimes to know if the Illustrated Police News was purposely trying to let on that so many of its articles were just made up. But not surprisingly, I didn't find any other articles about two men being found dead in a beer vat in any reputable resources of the day. However, I did find a very sad true situation where a man died by suicide in a beer vat. Only four months earlier, a man named James Tutt was pulled out of a vat of of beer in New Hampshire, believed to have died by suicide, but it may have been a murder. I can't imagine it's easy to drown yourself in a vat of beer. Forensic science was still very much in its infancy at this time, so it would likely be difficult to determine if this particular death was maybe a poison murder and he could have been dumped in the vat. There's no way to know, and the article didn't have more details that I saw, but we have seen before how some some stories in the Illustrated Police News were coincidentally very similar to real events that took place only a few months earlier that seem too outlandish to believe. I have a feeling this true article about this poor man may have inspired the other one that I just read. A skeleton is literally holding an umbrella in the Illustration. It is bonkers. Okay, this next one is horrifying. It is called Arizona's Horrors. Bloodshed, Retaliation, Revenge. And it reads, a Sanford, Arizona dispatch of March 13 says the body of the missing man, William McFarland, was found by his friends, terribly mutilated. On making the discovery, they started to find a Mexican man who had been heard to threaten McFarland's life. As soon as he was found, he was shot. This exasperated the friends of the slain man, and they retaliated by killing one of the Americans who assisted in the killing of the Mexican. On this, the American settlers, with one accord, determined to avenge the death of their friends. Five Mexican men, the ringleaders in the killing of the American, were shot. One of them, endeavoring to escape, retreated into an adobe house and barricaded himself in. The house was blown up and the wretched man dragged out and shot. All the business places in Sanford and Florence are closed, their owners fearing an attack of the Mexican, who are greatly in the majority. A company of United States Cavalry was sent for. Upon arriving, they encamped between the two towns. It is thought that they will be able to restore order. The excitement is intense. End quote. Okay. My God. This was a true story. I found it in a number of other papers. Mr. McFarland had his legs and arms cut from his body and were never found. But it appears that he was first shot in the head, in the back first, and hopefully died instantly before the mutilation. Ugh. This story was even darker than what was on the surface. Strangely enough for the Illustrated Police News, it appears that they may have gotten one important issue correct, I think, which is that it was not Apache men who committed the first murder. A number of other papers said that it was Apache men. And I didn't understand why different papers were saying different things. Things. So I dug deeper and I found an article from a month later clarifying that it was believed that Mexican folks dressed as Apache natives not only murdered this man, but another family, the Baker family, in that town, leading to intentional confusion about who the murderers really were. But it's so hard to tell which papers received true information. Maybe all of them. This was lies. This part of Arizona in the 1870s was a hotbed of violence between the native Apache people, the Mexican folks nearby, and European folks settling there. And there was a lot of hatred for the Apache people. And plenty of newspapers were more than willing to stir up even more. Just one year earlier in this area, 144 Apache natives were massacred in what was called the Camp grant massacre in April 28, 1871. Men, women and children, and the few children that weren't murdered were sold into slavery to Mexico. So, like I said, there was a lot of violence, racism, horror in this area at this time that often swelled and grew. It was just a completely lawless area full of suffering. Okay, let's have a story about a corpse being bought by mistake. This article is called Bought a Corpse and it reads, on the 8th, a. B. Richardson sold at auction for the OSN company a lot of pack goods of freight which had remained on hand for more than a year. Uncalled for as usual. When there is a pig in a poke sale, a chance to buy something valuable it may be for small sum of money. There was a good attendance of bidders and the sale went off with considerable spirit. There were all sorts of speculations as to what any given package might contain, and visions of profit flitted through the minds of complete bidders. And when a package which looked as though it might have something valuable in it came to the block, the bidding often ran high. A few people did make pretty good bargains. Others, as must necessarily be the case in all games of chance, chance found they had merely squandered their money. There was one particular case, however, which came from Idaho, that looked to be a promising case, but which turned out to be a ghastly grim joke upon the purchaser. A family grocer on First street bought it at $7.50. He took it home and opened it to see what fortune had done for him and was horrified to find that it contained nothing but a lot of of human bones, the remains, as afterwards ascertained, of a man who went to Idaho and died there. His bones had been thus packed up and sent down here for shipment to another country, but for some unaccountable reason, they were never called for. The greengrocer, of course, had no use for a corpse. And the problem was at once presented what was to be done with it. He might have a funeral, but there were no mourners that he knew of. The bones were buried in a field, and kind words said. The grocer has concluded, however, never to attend another old horse sale. End quote. For the love of. Okay, just in case you're unaware, a pig in a poke sale is a sight unseen sale. The term is still sometimes used to describe storage container auctions. The saying pig in a poke dates back to the early 1500s. It means don't buy a piglet in a sack instead of a cage, because for all you know, A pig merchant could put anything inside that bag instead and sell it to you for the price of a pig. A poke meant a bag back then. This must have been such a prevalent issue back then. To create an idiom that's lasted hundreds of years, somewhat unrelated. I really thought by this stage in my life I'd be in a constant war with ring around the collar. That was a prevalent issue in the 80s if I remember correctly. Hundreds of years from now, kids might be playing ring around the collar, having having no idea where the name of the game came from, thinking it came from some plague, maybe a greasy neck plague. Moving right along, this next one also has a great illustration. It is called O', Connell, the Celtic blunderer pulls the wrong tooth from Mrs. McCarty and what he received for his services at Hyde Park. And it reads, a Celtic extractor of decayed dentals who rejoices in the name of O' Connell recently visited the house of Ms. J. McCarty at Hyde Park, Massachusetts for the purpose of pulling a refractory grinder. The lady opened her mouth, the doctor inserted his forceps. There was a long pull and a strong pull and out came a tooth. But alas, the tooth was sound and the affected one still remained firmly lodged in the afflicted jaw. Ms. McCarty was naturally enraged and assisted by two them of other ladies who happened to be present. She went for him with a club and gave him an excellent opportunity to exercise his agility in dodging stones and brickbats until he got out of their reach. We don't blame the woman. Teeth are too precious to be sacrificed unnecessarily. End quote. I did a little reading about dental surgery in the 1800s and I don't want to go too deeply into it. We've already been traumatized enough by a number of articles already. But I did read a wild fact that in the mid-1800s, of all the barbaric methods used with crude tools, it was common to make patients sit on the floor when performing tooth extractions in even the most professional of environments. It was the mid-1800s when anesthesia was just beginning to be used. I've mentioned that some dental surgeons were using hypnosis successfully to keep dental patients under while performing surgery. But it was difficult to teach and sometimes folks did wake up. Nitrous oxide had been used since 1844, but it wasn't used everywhere. And I've mentioned before that many folks were more afraid of nitrous oxide than raw dogging teeth extractions because stories about surgical students and medical Men getting themselves high on it and then jumping out of windows, flipping out, hurting themselves terribly were fairly common. People didn't want to end up like them. Of all the things we have to be grateful for in the modern era, innovation in dental science is up there at the tippy top. For me personally, I'm sure you would agree. Okay, when I first saw the illustration for this one, I literally shouted Jesus Christ. All by myself in my bedroom. Take a look and you'll see why. Toby Woohoo was very concerned when I was looking at this article is called A bloody fight in a saloon on Mulberry Street, New York. The Devens and Ferrell brothers slashing each other with swords and knives and it reads A desperate fight took place on St. Patrick's Night in Smith's Saloon, number 89 Mulberry Street, New York. The parties engaged were James Farrell of 211 Whit West 49th Street, Thomas Farrell of 89 Mulberry street, and Bill and Pat Devens of 116 Mulberry Street. It appears that while Bill Devens was in the saloon drinking, the Farrell brothers came to see a friend and invite him to a christening to take place that day. Devens approached Thomas Farrell and said that he had heard that he was a fighting man. Farrell said he was not. Devens wanted to fight, but Farrell declined, adding that in if he was attacked he would be able to take care of himself. Devens put his hand in his pocket and slipped on a heavy knuckle as he was drawing his hand out. He was knocked down by James Farrell and then put out of the saloon. Devens called his gang, included his brother Pat, and all laid in wait for the Ferrells. When the Farrell brothers appeared on the sidewalk. They were attacked and both stabbed on the head, which is an interesting way to write that. Not stabbed in the head, stabbed on the head. The Ferals retreated back to the saloon, followed by the Devens gang and a bloody fight ensued. Thomas Farrell seized a sword that was hanging on the wall while James Farrell obtained a knife. Thomas made a lunge with the sword and ran it through Bill Devin's right cheek, penetrating his mouth. Another lunge and the point of the sword penetrated about an inch into Bill's left eye, completely destroying it. It Bill still went for Tom and stabbed him several times in the hip and scalp. Meantime, Pat Devens was having it very hot with James Farrell, who stabbed Pat in the neck, inflicting a serious wound of about 4 inches long and nearly an inch deep. James was also stabbed in the head Though not seriously. The Farrell brothers kept the gang at bay until the arrival of Officer Monahan, who arrested the Farrells and the the Devens brothers and took them to the Franklin street station. They had all been parading on St Patrick's Day and wound up with this bloody affray. Bill Devens was sent to Park Hospital in an ambulance. The rest were locked up. Okay. It was tricky to track down more information here, but I did find that James Farrell, who stabbed William Devens in the eye, was tried and actually acquitted on November 15, 18, 1872. I didn't find more details about why he was acquitted. I would imagine it was because it sounds like the Devens started it. Who on earth can say, go traumatize yourself and take a look at that illustration if you haven't already. Okay. Our next article is a sad and mysterious one. It is called the Murdered Princess. A diamond studded dagger buried in her bosom. A noble Roman family in mourning warning Prince Herberto, the girl's lover, suspected of the crime. And it reads, a profound mystery has lately alarmed the nobility of Rome. On last Tuesday evening, a little before the hour when hundreds of church and convent bells proclaim the setting of the sun, the Tiber cast up the corpse of a nobly attired lady near that historic structure known as the Pantemale. The. The dead lady was first discovered by a vendor of fish, who immediately made known the sad fact to the gendarme in charge of the toll gate in the vicinity of Pontemolle. The corpse is described as that of a supremely beautiful woman of not more than 18 or 19 years. Her dress was of buff silk trimmed with rich lace and beads. Her wristbands were fastened by gold buttons, each bearing the monogram CC in her bosom was plunged a dagger with a diamond studded hilt, and a faint stream of blood was discernible on the dress. Profuse black curls hung dishevelled over her shoulders and face and on a plain white collar pinned to her dress below the dagger wound was written in blood. Vendetta. The body was removed to the police quarters in the Pontemole district. And for many days nothing further further was heard of the melancholy occurrence either from the press or the authorities. The matter was spoken of carefully by strong men and tender women. Discussed the mystery with bated breath. Wherefore, because the palace of the Chigli family was filled with silence and sorrow over the unaccountable absence of its fairest member, the young and charming Caterina Chigi, that the old Tiber had found and given her up had witnessed a terrible crime or refused to conceal the foul murder not a member of the Cheeky house would believe or confess. Here rested the mystery for three days, at the end of which time an enterprising newspaper known as the Gazette del Popolo gave a detailed and fearless account of the strange absence of Katrina Cheeky, who left her Princely home on 25th February last without giving further notice of where she intended to go. From that hour, nothing had been heard of the princess. End quote. Okay, I dug into this one. It was a true story. The case was never officially solved, but it was indeed likely that this very rich man, who wasn't just her lover, he was actually her husband. This Prince Huberto was a very powerful aristocrat in post university fortification Italy, where nobles were rarely if ever prosecuted for crimes. The investigation was widely criticized as being purposely inept and deliberately restrained. All evidence simply disappeared. The knife, her clothing, everything. The prince was arrested briefly, but quickly released. The case remains as one of Italy's most infamous unsolved aristocratic murders of the 19th century. Okay, let's have one more to make you smile. This article is called Charge Against a Medical man. And it reads, john Alexander Barnes surrendered his bail and pleaded guilty to publishing obscene books. The defendant resided in Lonsdale Square, Barnsbury, and was formerly a clerk to Dr. Smith of Bernard. Since he went into business, his advertisements appeared in the provincial papers side by side with Dr. Smith's. The defendant also circulated a book called the Secret Friend, and one of which the police managed to get sent to them by the defendant together with some testimonials at his house. Another work called the Invigorator was found after his committal. His solicitors had communicated with the treasury to the effect that the prisoner would destroy the book and not offend again. Four hundred and fifty copies of the Invigorator had been destroyed, as well as 1500 circulars. The Deputy Recorder said that he did not consider there was anything indecent in the advertisement, but the book was objectionable under the circumstances. The defendant would be allowed to enter into his own recognizance in £200 to come up for judgment if called upon to do so. End quote. Oh, I am deeply sorry to say that I could not find copies of the Invigorator or the Secret Friend to share on the Instagram. But a few facts about obscene Material. Both in England and the United States, it was indeed illegal to publish, quote unquote, obscene material in England. The Obscene Publications act of 1857 made all, quote, unquote obscene material illegal, subject to seizure and destruction by the state. But the interpretations of what obscene meant were often sticky and difficult to define, as they are currently. Are fine art depictions of naked women and men together obscene? What exactly makes it so? Is it the acts they perform, or is it the people who you intend to make the art for, etc. A court case in in 1869, Regina v. Hicklin established a specific definition that obscene material tended to deprave and corrupt those whose minds are open to such immoral influences. End quote. Which that doesn't make things any less vague to me. Minds that are open to corruption can be corrupted by all kinds of things that aren't inherently corrupt. Regardless. Not until 1959 did it be become legal to publish obscene material in England with the new Obscene Publications Act. This narrowed and clarified the definition of what obscenity was Decriminalizing material for art, literature, science or learning. Still vague to me, but this lifted bans on books like Lady Chatterley's Lover, which was illegal to sell in England until 1959, for example. Ugh. It's a controversial topic and not one that I feel I have much authority authority to speak on. I'll just say this. If I ever got my hands on a publication like the Secret Friend or the Invigorator, it would probably go on my coffee table. Would make a lovely conversation piece, I'm sure. If you enjoyed this podcast and would like to hear more, please please rate the show on Spotify and Apple podcasts. Share it with your spouse, spooky friends and family. Let me know what you think of it in the comments. And if you would like to listen ad free, join the Patreon Be kind to yourselves and I will see you in your nightmares.