On 9 July 1864, after an evening with relatives, Thomas Briggs walked through Fenchurch Station and entered carriage 69 on the 9.45 Hackney-bound train. Little did he know that he was travelling into history ...
A few minutes later, two bank clerks entered the compartment. As they sat down, one of them noticed blood pooled in the buttoned indentations of the cushions. Then he saw blood smeared all over the floor and windows of the carriage, and a bloody handprint on the door. Ladies in the adjacent carriage complained that their dresses had been stained by spurts of blood entering their window while the train was in motion.
But there was no sign of Thomas Briggs. The only things left in the carriage were his ivory-knobbed walking stick, his empty leather bag - and a hat that, stangely, did not belong to Mr Briggs ...
So begins a breakneck-paced, fascinating Victorian true crime story - a story that obsessed the nation and changed rail travel for ever. With formidable narrative skill, Kate Colquhoun evokes the sights, sounds and smells of Victorian rail travel, and uncovers long-buried secrets from one of the most gripping murder investigation of that age.
Kate Colquhoun is a biographer and historian. Her first book A Thing in Disguise: the visionary life of Joseph Paxton (Fourth Estate, 2003) was shortlisted for the Duff Cooper prize, nominated for the Samuel Johnson award and was a BBC Radio 4 Book of the Week. Other books include Taste: the history of Britain through its cooking (Bloomsbury, 2007) and The Thrifty Cookbook: 476 Ways to eat well with leftovers (Bloomsbury, 2009).
Mr Briggs’ Hat (Little, Brown, 2011) was shortlisted for a Crime Writers’ Association silver dagger award, translated widely and filmed for BBC TV. Her next book Did She Kill Him? (Little, Brown 2014), investigates the story of Florence Maybrick, an American ingénue tried for the murder of her older cotton-broker husband James in Liverpool in 1889.
Kate reviews and writes widely for the national papers, particularly the Sunday Times and the Daily Telegraph. She helped to make The Truth about Food for Channel 4’s Dispatches series, and appears often on radio and TV. She particularly loved teaching Faber Academy’s narrative non-fiction course in 2011. For her next project, Kate will investigate gender equality around the world, asking ‘How Equal is Almost Equal?’ She lives in west London with her two sons.
This is another book by Kate Colquhoun I have read. And another very well researched and written. And just like with 'Did She Kill Him?', the author plunges into 19th century England in order to tell a story of a mysterious death on the British railway. An interesting read.
The title of the book is misleading - this is anything but sensational. In fact, it is excruciatingly boring and drawn out. Mr Briggs' Hat: A Sensational Account of Britain's First Railway Murder by Kate Colquhoun is a non-fictional account of a murder that took place in a British railway carriage in 1864. The subject matter is intriguing and could have led to an interesting book, but the author was unable to pull it off.
The book is not a typical True Crime book, which explores the crime in detail. In fact, it barely touches on the crime, because there is not much to write on it. The victim's family never came out and provided any details, so the author had nothing to explore there. Instead, we are told a long never-ending tale of a police chase across the Atlantic, long-winded discussions of extradition treaties, endless quotations from newspapers, each mentioning the exact same thing as the one before, and finally, a boring and repetitive trial.
The case was well-researched and explained in detail. In fact, there were so many unnecessary details repeated over and over again that my eyes started to glaze over. The entire evidence on which the victim was hanged rested on hats, and believe me, I never want to see a hat again in my life. I am sick to the teeth of hats, hat linings, and dented hats. The same evidence was repeated so many times that reading the book became a chore.
At some point, the book becomes a polemic against death penalty and I have no clue how the author jumped from one to the other. Does the author think that the convicted person, Franz Müller was falsely executed? Yes. Does she give us any evidence for that? No. So I don't see the point of this. Actually, this was the most interesting part of the book as the author described the public opinion for and against death penalty at this time. But she completely failed to relate it to the main story and simply did not bother to present any evidence for Müller's innocence.
In the end, we don't get to know anything about Briggs, about Müller, or even anything about how the crime was committed. In short, while the case itself is interesting, this book is boring. I would urge you to rather read the Wikipedia entry on Franz Müller, and avoid this lengthy and unnecessary book.
It's insomnia time again so I'm managing to get quite a bit of reading done while I'm miserable. If I must rate this book, it's about a 3.2. More at my reading journal here.
The crime under study here is in England, 1864, and begins with a train stop at the "midway point on the line" between Fenchurch Street and Chalk Farm. As a train guard is fretting over being behind schedule while the train is stopped at Hackney Station, he hears a "commotion" at the front of the train. Two bank employees had just stepped into a first-class carriage, only to discover that it was filled with blood, still wet, spattered everywhere. Then he heard complaints from some women who had just exited the compartment next door, whose "dresses and capes had been stained by drops" that had come through their open carriage window while the train was still en route. Blood is everywhere, but where is the victim? All that remains in the compartment is a "black hat, squashed nearly flat," with the maker's name inside, along with a "thick cane topped with a heavy ivory knob" also containing "a few red spots" and a black bag. No one in the adjoining compartment had heard anything. The guard instructs the stationmaster to wire the railway superintendent at the end of the line; he then locks the compartment door and the train starts its journey. When the train reaches its final destination, it is met by the station superintendent who checks out the compartment and calls for the police; the hunt begins for whoever may have done this horrific thing.
Overall, it's a good book and of particular interest to anyone interested in the Victorian period. There's a lot of cultural detail here around the crime that is quite interesting. On the other hand, it gets a bit boggy in the reading, with a lot of unnecessary repetition and to me some uninteresting bits about how this crime was a diversion from the American civil war, since the Inspector's pursuit of the suspect brought him to our shores. I am happy to have read it though, since I'm a huge fan of historical true crime. I'd recommend it to others who are interested as well.
In mid-Victorian England, the railway was coming into its own as a method of travel and opened up the country which previously had used carriages taking days to reach their destinations. The problem with the passenger train was the design....the first class carriage was basically a box in which the traveler was locked without any egress nor any way to contact the porter or other train employees if something was amiss. And this error in judgement by the rail companies led to the first railway murder. It also led to some changes in police procedures and the birth of very elementary forensics.
This book takes us through the murder and the trial of the accused but it also is a bit of a social history of the changes wrought by the coming of the railways as a means of travel and how it changed the face of Britain. I would doubt seriously if the case against the accused would hold much water today but there was a bit of a rush to judgement as the press in those days could pretty much write what they wanted to without being called to task. An interesting and informative book that is worth the read.
Note: This book was also published as Mr. Briggs' Hat
The London underground railway, the first in the world opened with great fanfare in 1863. This is an account of the first railway murder that occurred only a year later in 1864 and created a great sensation as Londoners realised that they were not safe on this form of public transport. The first trains had no corridor for internal travel between compartments and passengers had no way of calling for help if assaulted. Mr Briggs, a 69 y old banking clerk was travelling home from Fenchurch station to Hackney after dining with his niece and her husband. However, when the train arrived at Hackney station, two clerks found the compartment empty but blood all over the seat, walls and window.Inside they found Mr Wigg's bag and cane and under the seat a squashed black hat (of inferior quality).
It is the presence of the hat that forms the focus of this account as it turned out not to belong to Mr Briggs. Mr Briggs' body was eventually found on the rail line but whether he was dead when he fell or was pushed out of the train or whether he died after hitting his head on rocks next to the rail could not be established. His own very good quality hat is missing and a gold watch and chain was found to have been stolen from his coat and the hunt for the perpetrator was on.
Not a lot happens in this real life crime and readers of modern fast paced crime novels may be disappointed. The book is perhaps a little longer than it needs to be and I found it somewhat slow to read. However, I enjoyed the meticulous research that has gone into putting together this account and the fascinating documentation of the small details involved in the search for the murderer/attacker of Mr Briggs. Not only does it highlight Victorian society at that time but also the capabilities of Victorian policing and the criminal justice system. Eventually a putative murderer is found and the evidence of the hat and the fate of Mr Briggs' hat plays a large part in bringing him to trial. There is the complication of a chase across the Atlantic as the wanted man emigrates to New York, during the time of the American Civil War. With no trans-atlantic communication system, police and witnesses must chase him on a faster ship to effect an extradition.
The details of the trial based on circumstantial evidence and the lack of following up additional details of the crime ultimately leave some unresolved doubts about whether the police had caught the right man and whether he was in fact murdered or died after falling from the train and the reader is left to make up their own mind.
This was a very well researched and informative - enjoyable too - account of the first murder on Britain's railways in the 1860s. The case is itself interesting as the book recounts the detectives' quest to piece together the events leading to Thomas Briggs' death and then the journey (literally) to apprehend the main suspect.
What made the book of even greater interest for me was the social aspects relating to the victim and suspect, plus the police work involved.
The police work - the case and their methods - were in their infancy as the team of detectives were relatively newly formed and the techniques including forensics, handling of witnesses and information recording were all challenged and challenging.
The testing of blood was only just starting and the technology and the scientists themselves were limited in their understanding. Information cataloguing was of course handwritten - and not always in-toto or accurate - and so left or created gaps, and added to this was the difficulty and laboriousness in being able to cross reference information and people.
Social aspects, in respect of how the suspect was viewed by the public, and importantly how the murder was treated by the newspapers, including the language used and the detail they were able to print (accurate or not); the witnesses and their views of events; and the manufacture, cost and use of items of clothing and the company people kept or the items they sold or pawned.
Coupled to this was the technology revolution of communications (newspapers and telegraphs) and transport (trains and steamships) that brought news and travel to many, but still limited the exchange of information and saw journeys across the Atlantic take many weeks.
The case and its outcome challenged ideas and principles with people questioning the legal system, how the press behaved, how criminals/witnesses were treated and so shaped views or brought recommendations for change.
All in all a highly readable book on what was a crime that shook Victorian Britain and Britons' to the core: If a wealthy, well to do man could be murdered in a First Class carriage with such speed and brutality with no witnesses to the actual crime, then who was safe on the railways or on any business one undertook regardless of occupation or social class?
Londra, 1864. Il treno è terribile in ritardo (per la cronaca, si tratta di quattro minuti… per i nostri standard rientriamo ancora abbondantemente nella fascia ancora "in orario"), ma al momento è fermo alla stazione di Hackney. Amis, il capotreno, è pronto per fischiare la partenza, ma dagli scompartimenti di prima classe giungono dei grossi grattacapi. Un uomo, in compagnia del socio, ha cercato di accomodarsi nella carrozza n. 69. Ne è uscito con le dita e il retro dei pantaloni impiastricciati di sangue. Dalla carrozza vicina, alcune signore lamentano di essere state a loro volta schizzate di sangue dal finestrino aperto. ... L'aplomb inglese è sempre un po' inquietante... Insomma, Amis entra nello scompartimento (ogni vagone è isolato dagli altri, come una micro-stanza per sole quattro persone) e, a parte strisciate di sangue sui sedili imbottiti, i cuscini, le pareti e il pavimento, trova solo un cappello, un bastone da passeggio con l'impugnatura in avorio e una borsa nera.
Poco distante, in una zona non edificata e paludosa alle porte della City, sui binari viene ritrovato un uomo in condizioni critiche. Di lì a poco, purtroppo, muore a causa delle ferite riportate. Pare che fosse proprio lui l'occupante della carrozza n. 69 e pare che non solo sia stato aggredito, ma sia stato spinto giù lungo i binari. C'è un problema, però. La vittima, identificata come Mr Briggs, distinto banchiere, non ha mai indossato il cappello ritrovato nella carrozza. E allora a chi appartiene quell'accessorio? Che sia stato dimenticato proprio dall'assassino?
Confesso: grazie al libro Omicidio a Road Hill House, ho avuto un ritorno di fiamma per i gialli ambientati in epoca vittoriana (sì, ho avuto il bisogno di rientrare nelle atmosfere che ho imparato ad amare grazie ad Arthur Conan Doyle). E, dopo la sensazional novel di Mary Elisabeth Braddon Il segreto di Lady Audley, citata più volte anche all'interno di questo libro, e dopo il libro di Colin Dexter La fanciulla è morta, torno ai saggi.
Sì, perché anche qui - come nel già richiamato Omicidio a Road Hill House - si tratta di una specie di reportage, talvolta un poco romanzato, del primo caso di omicidio su di un treno inglese.
Quindi, primo problema affrontato nel libro: un omicidio - un altro... - in epoca vittoriana per la neonata figura dell'investigatore di Scotland Yard. E, secondo: un omicidio violento avvenuto sul vanto di ogni britannico: la loro rete ferroviaria e, di conseguenza, anche il loro progresso tecnologico.
Le carrozze dell'epoca, infatti, possedevano una conformazione particolare che non prevedeva il collegamento e la comunicazione tra ognuna di queste fra sé e con il capotreno (non avevano corridoio centrale e non prevedevano la possibilità di spostarsi di carrozza in carrozza). La conseguenza era che, ad esempio, incendi scoppiavano nelle carrozze senza che il capotreno ne fosse a conoscenza e senza i passeggeri potessero avvertirlo in alcun modo (quindi, il treno non si fermava) e rispettabili cittadini venivano infastiditi, molestati e derubati nel segreto del vagone-treno.
Ma non solo. In questi crimini che, agli occhi della pubblica opinione divennero dei veri e propri intrighi, giocavano un loro ruolo anche la politica; le convinzioni più o meno personali dell'investigatore di turno; i pregiudizi e, in questo caso specifico, anche i difficili rapporti tra Stati Uniti e i vecchi padroni britannici o tra Gran Bretagna e Prussia (considerata l'invasione prussiana della Danimarca con cui la famiglia reale era imparentata).
Invece dell'ormai affezionato Jack Wicher, troviamo un altro investigatore della nuova sezione dedicata di Scotland Yard: Richard Tanner. Entrambi nomi noti nel mondo investigativo inglese in era vittoriana, rappresentano la figura romantica dell'investigatore: corretto (persino con il sospettato), onesto, ligio al dovere e infaticabile. Tuttavia, non infallibile.
Perché uno dei problemi principali sono proprio le indagini, spesso parziali e rapide; l'attendibilità dei testimoni; la volubilità delle giurie, martellate con continue illazioni e facili sentenze da riviste e giornali; i toni spesso di teatrino che assumeva un processo; la mancanza di un riesame; i diritti negati al sospettato (si pensi solo che l'imputato non poteva rendere dichiarazioni e poteva dar voce alla sua posizione solo attraverso il suo avvocato durante gli interrogatori dei testimoni; l'accusa non era obbligata a condividere con la difesa le proprie scoperte).
Gli investigatori devono destreggiarsi tra testimonianze fallate dalla memoria o dettate dall'avidità (nel caso specifico, era, infatti, prevista una notevole ricompensa), mitomani e detective da salotto. Ed è impossibile sotto un martellamento così costante, non formarsi una propria opinione e seguirla ciecamente, sebbene in buona fede, ignorando così tutte le prove contrarie.
Ciò che doveva essere evidente, infatti, era l'altissimo grado di efficenza raggiunto dalla giustizia inglese. E dimostrare tale efficienza spesso andava a discapito di molto altro... anche della vita.
Ciò che mi affascina maggiormente è vedere come questi delitti divennero particolarmente coinvolgenti all'epoca perché scardinarono un punto fisso delle certezze vittoriane. Nell'Omicidio a Road Hill House era la quotidianità, l'inviolabilità del domicilio; qui venne accresciuto un senso preesistente di disagio verso la modernità e l'avvento del progresso.
Come scrivevo poco sopra, la fitta rete ferroviaria inglese, che sbocciò nel giro di pochissimi anni conquistandosi l'orgoglio di ogni inglese, celava in sé anche numerosi pericoli. Gli incidenti ferroviari erano molto frequenti, nonostante proporzionalmente inferiori al grado tecnologico raggiunto. L'avvento della nuova rivoluzione industriale aveva portato con sé benessere e innovazione, ma anche un senso di disagio e irrequietezza; sentimenti confermati (e acuiti) dalla tragica dipartita del signor Briggs.
Insomma, mi rendo conto d'aver fatto molti parallelismi tra questo libro e Omicidio a Road Hill House. Ammetto che, se sulla copertina non fosse stato specificato il cognome della scrittrice (perché, per l'appunto, si chiamano entrambe Kate!) non avrei notato che si trattava di due autrici diverse.
I punti in comune tra i libri sono molti e non solo perché entrambi trattano, nella forma di saggio, di un omicidio di grande risonanza durante l'epoca vittoriana. Entrambi mettono in luce numerosi altri aspetti: in primo luogo, il contorno dell'epoca, le problematiche non solo personali dei singoli testimoni o dello stesso sospettato, ma anche i notevoli risvolti nell'opinione pubblica. Il già noto problema delle giurie e della loro possibilità di essere fortemente influenzate da giornali e rotocalchi vari; la fallibilità delle testimonianze; dubbi e domande irrisolte che non possono assolutamente perdurare in un processo penale; l'abbozzo, ancora informe, di una scienza investigativa; la crescita giurisprudenziale e le tante contraddizioni di un mondo cristiano pronto a mandare a morte sulla base di un sospetto, di una folla pronta a giudicare e a bearsi della morte sul patibolo. E, infine, la solita amara verità: arriva un punto in cui l'attenzione quasi morbosa per il carnefice supera il cordoglio e il rispetto delle vittime.
Ecco, a voler essere puntigliosi, una differenza tra i due libri c'è ed è questa: la parte centrale de Il cappello di Mr Briggs, dedicata alle tre (!) giornate di processo, è un po' troppo dettagliata tanto da arrivare quasi a smarrirsi tra i tanti quello ha detto, quell'altro ha riportato della sfilata di testimoni e figuri vari durante il processo. Inoltre, molto spesso, nel corso dell'intero saggio, si ripetono domande e concetti.
Quindi, i due libri sono davvero quasi identici, ma il "voto" leggermente più basso del romanzo in questione è determinato solo da una certa tendenza alla ridondanza e prolissità de Il cappello di Mr Briggs che, in ogni caso, resta un ottimo e interessantissimo saggio sull'epoca vittoria e le sue contraddizioni.
On 9 July 1864 two bank clerks enter a first class train compartment only to discover that it is covered in blood, with no sign of an injured person or body although they do find a walking stick, an empty leather bag and a hat. Shortly afterwards Thomas Briggs, a senior bank clerk, is found, fatally injured a short way back along the railway line. When Briggs dies without regaining consciousness shortly, a murder investigation commences. The investigation is headed by Richard Tanner of the still relatively new Scotland Yard Detective Division of the Metropolitan Police. Faced with a murder without witnesses and few clues, Tanner is conducting a very difficult investigation that only appears to break when a tip seems to point at a good suspect. Soon Tanner finds himself chasing Franz Muller, the young German tailor who appears to be at the centre of the horrific attack, across the Atlantic in an effort to bring him to justice in a case that will be decided by the ownership of two hats.
This was a fascinating read. The murder and its setting, a closed off train compartment, are truly mysterious. The only evidence available being very circumstantial leads to the answers suggested being highly ambiguous. It is hard to read this book without being both horrified at and fascinated by the standards of crime investigation at the time and the way the justice system worked in those days. But it is not just the crime that makes this book so interesting. The author paints a great picture of England at the height of the industrial revolution, the ambivalent feelings this rapid progress awakened in people and the ins and outs of daily life in London. I enjoyed comparing investigative methods, court proceedings and journalistic standards of the time with those we are used to today and can only be glad of the progress we have made in the 150 years since this case hit the headlines. I feel that this well written and thoroughly researched book would be a great read for anyone with an interest in true crime, history, and/or social studies.
Neste livro, a autora, Kate Colquhoun, relata-nos a história do assalto e assassinato (brutal) de Thomas Briggs, em 1864, o primeiro crime deste género num comboio britânico. É um livro interessante, com alguns momentos algo repetitivos, apoiado na documentação de uma época vincada pelo jornalismo sensacionalista, onde a investigação criminal criava destaque na resolução (muitas vezes dúbia) de actos violentos.
A book that started promisingly but then became so mired in petty detail and endless repetition that I lost interest. Well-written and researched but I didn't feel the case was interesting enough to require such an in-depth study.
Great 'who dunnit' set in England and the US during Civil War times. It gives us some feeling for what went on in the country besides the war. As a lawyer I found the New York extradition proceedings disturbing. You won't know for certain if the London police caught the perpetrator until the very last page. Read it - you'll like it.
Bel libro storicamente documentato scritto con la scansione di un giallo, l'accuratezza di un saggio e la verve di un divulgatore. Mr Briggs viene trovato morto scaraventato giù da un treno nell'Inghilterra della incrollabile fede del progresso, della scienza, del commercio, dell'industria. Il delitto scuote il Paese, la nascente Scotland Yard viene coinvolta, inizia una caccia all'uomo basata soprattutto sulle delazioni (più che sui risultati molto incerti dell'inchiesta. CSI era ancora molto lontana come idea ….). Tutto si gioca su una complicatissima storia di cappelli scambiati, insanguinati, accorciati, venduti, prestati e su una catena d'orologio dalle vicissitudini altrettanto complicate. Il povero sartino tedesco (in un periodo in cui i teutonici non godevano più di buona propaganda) viene ripescato di là dall'Atlantico (dove c'è in corso la Guerra Civile e l'Inghilterra odiatissima) e riportato in Patria per essere giudicato. A favore della giustizia inglese c'è la sua celerità nei giudizi, a suo sfavore la stessa cosa: un colpevole è sempre meglio di nessun colpevole, sembra essere il suo motto. E via, impicchiamolo pure che serva come esempio. Il montaggio del libro è dinamico con capitoli stringati dedicati a passaggi o argomenti specifici (la storia dei treni, delle carrozze e dello sviluppo delle ferrovie è affascinante e fa venire voglia di leggerne di più). Il non sapere CHI fosse stato il reale colpevole lascia un po' sospesi (molto meno di Jack lo squartatore, ma un pochino sì), e perché mai sul povero Mr Briggs si fosse accanito così tanto rimane un mistero.
I must admit to a certain initial prejudice against purchasing this book because, having read the blurb, it seemed to me an attempt to cash in on the success of Kate Summerscale's excellent 'The Suspicions of Mr Whicher'. Indeed Jack Whicher is mentioned in these pages as a contemporary of the detective Inspector Richard Tanner who is the chief investigator of the murder of Thomas Briggs in a Victorian railway carriage, the subject of Kate Colquhon's book. It's certainly true that the Colquhon story covers the same period of history, tracks the investigation of a real-life high-profile murder and treats its subject in a very similar style to Kate Summerscale, but I came to the conclusion that I couldn't blame the author for the publisher's opportunism and that her own credentials were anyway impeccable. So I bought the book.
I'm glad I did. As with 'Mr Whicher' I was transported to mid-Victorian England and was as thoroughly engaged with the murder, the investigation, the chase, trial and aftermath as newspaper readers of the time obviously were, though Colquhon writes with far more restraint than many of those journalists covering the story. Ms Colquhoun's admirable research allows us not only to become steeped in the details of the case but also to have a tangible sense of the lived context, with plenty of rich descriptive background to place the reader in the territory. We do hear the occasional riffle of research notes but in general the learning is presented subtly and in tune with the narrative.
Tanner is not brought to life as effectively as Summerscale's Whicher, but the difficult-to-pin-down Francis Muller - the supposed villain of the piece - is very carefully drawn in all his ambiguities.
This being real life, there is no fully realised close-the-book resolution, but Colquhon makes that a strength of her book, particularly in the final chapters. I won't say more than that, not wishing to give too much of the game away, but I do warn readers not to take too close a look at the picture captions before you've finished the narrative, otherwise you will discover more than you may wish to know at that point.
The novel describes the first Victorian Railway Killing based on actual facts. The date is July, 1964 and Thomas Briggs was traveling home after work and stopping off to have dinner with his niece and husband. He boarded the first class carriage on the p:45 pm Hackney service of the North London railway. A short time later, two bank clerks entered the compartment where Briggs had just been. As they sat down, they noticed blood pooled in the indentations of the seat cushions and smeared all over the floor and windows. There was no sign of Thomas. All that remained was his ivory-knobbed walking stick, his empty leather bag, and a bloodstained hat that did not belong to Thomas. The race to find his killer ignited every police department and the trail finally led to a man who had roomed with a family who spoke well of him. But, they soon realized that he was the culprit and was trying to escape on a boat sailing to America. The papers were followed with intense interest and became the first to follow a mystery murder. Even people in America was reading and the authorities were ready for his landing. But, in London members of the police caught a faster boat and followed the murderer to lie in wait for his arrival. The readers of the story was so enthralled that it started the first police procedural. It proved a distraction from the Civil War that raged in America. The Independent paper called it, "An enthralling account of a real-life mystery. Her well-told tale would --unlike much of the evidence in the case."Stand up in court
Jeg har næsten på forhånd besluttet mig for at jeg kan lide bogen, når den handler om en virkelig "krimi-historie" fra det victorianske England. Under læsningen var der intet der trak ned i min fascination af historien og måden den formidles på. Det er for mig ikke spændingen om udfaldet der er i centrum, men beskrivelserne af efterforskningen, samfundet, befolkningens ageren, baggrunde for at man gjorde som man gjorde osv. Og her blev jeg ikke skuffet.
DNF, the mystery would have been interesting if it hadn't been drowned in too many details, most of which drag the pace down to a minimum, making this book almost unreadable. For me, it was just too boring.
I borrowed this book from my grandfather because Thomas Briggs was my great great great grandfather.
Most of my lower star rating comes from the fact I personally didn’t find the writing very interesting, and struggled to keep motivated to get through it. Even though I am very interested in this story, there is only so much the public knows. Which makes for a not so interesting retelling where similar information gets repeated.
The last few chapters felt very insistent on portraying Müller as a potential victim which I wasn’t expecting. And I definitely kept an open mind that there could be more to the story than what I was told. I know I’m biased but I see others here have agreed the author had particular beliefs and I think it shows, especially near the end of the book.
There was one line in the book that I appreciated where she acknowledges that all the talk about Müller in the press and among people distracts from the death of Thomas. But that feels overshadowed by a large chunk of the book being so focused on Müller and his possible innocence.
I did really like the occasional commentary on Victorian culture, relating the case to the fears of technological advancement, modernity and what that means for the morals of their society.
I’m left wanting to research the case more myself for some clarity
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I was very intrigued by this story. It was very interesting and could have been 5 stars for me if it were about 150 pages shorter. I liked the investigation part and the story is very interesting. it is about the first murder on Brittan's railway. A gentleman was murdered in one of the nicer coaches of the train and this is what makes everyone so scared. Many people are worried that a foreigner had killed him. The investigation was very wild and crosses over to the states which is interesting because at that time chasing a clue to the states was very hard.
Overall the story is interesting but I felt like it was VERY repetitive. It could have been a bit more condensed.
Interessante em termos históricos. Um crime real que aconteceu em 1864, onde a imprensa e a opinião pública julgavam e condenavam antes do próprio tribunal. O relato torna-se cansativo pela repetição dos acontecimentos.
Accounts of infamous historical crimes and trials have become quite a popular genre of late, and I can see why. This is the third or fourth of such books that I have read with enormous enjoyment. Allowing the reader an insight into the workings of the police force and justice system, on which so much of what happens today is based, is endlessly fascinating. I love flicking through the old photographs and always enjoy the excerpts of newspaper reports from the time. It is these details that bring the cases to life, ensuring that we as readers begin to see those people from the past as fully fleshed out real people, who are not so very different from us. “The small terminus at Fenchurch Street was tucked into the south-eastern corner of the part of the capital known as the city, disgorging noisy hordes of passengers from its four platforms into the streets beyond. Jostled, clutching his cane as he descended the steep stairs to the entrance, Thomas Briggs emerged under a warming sky filled with clouds smudged by greasy smog. His habitual route to work took him along Fenchurch Street, past a labyrinth of multiplying lanes and crowded courts and then across the broad sweep of Gracechurch Street. Down to his left was the River Thames with its clattering harvest of steam and riverboats; straight ahead was Lombard Street, gateway to the stone maze of mile-square city.” On the 9th July 1864 Thomas Briggs a 69 year old banker was viciously attacked in a first class train carriage travelling from Fenchurch Street to Hackney in the city of London. The blood spattered empty railway carriage was discovered by two other bank clerks who raised the alarm. Inside the carriage were a walking stick and a battered hat, a hat which prove crucial, as it was later identified as not belonging to Mr Briggs. Later Thomas Briggs was found badly injured near the railway line, he never regained consciousness. The hunt for Britain’s first railway murderer was underway. The horrific murder of a respectable family man in a locked first class railway carriage played upon the fears and fascinations of the Victorian public, which was so fond of the sensationalist literature of the time. Detective inspector Richard Tanner was initially put in charge of the case, later Detective Dolly Williamson led the London side of the investigation, when enquires took Tanner to New York. For the authorities soon had their quarry in their sights, a young German tailor who days after the murder was bound for New York aboard ship, the London police were soon in pursuit. However there were lines of enquiry that the police failed to investigate fully and while there were many convinced of who the guilty party was, there were others uncertain that every possibility had been explored correctly. Kate Colquhoun takes a balanced view of the case, neither coming down on one side or the other. The truth of what happened on the 9th July 1864 may be in a one sense, a matter of public record, or indeed be never really known. This utterly fascinating book – brilliantly recreates the times in which a terrible crime took place, showing how the public’s appetite for news surrounding the case fuelled the intense press interest on both sides of the Atlantic. By the time of the trial everybody in England seemed to know almost everything there was to know about the defendant and the police’s evidence. Could there ever have been a fair trial? I enjoyed this true crime book enormously; well written and excellently researched it shows the potential fallibility of the justice system.
Mr Briggs' Hat has been compared with Kate Summerscale's The Suspicions of Mr Whicher, and this real life detective is mentioned as a contemporary of the book's policeman, Tanner, but it reminded me more of PD James's The Maul and The Pear Tree, the subject of which was the Ratcliffe Highway murders. This book takes place in an entirely different milieu, not the Georgian slums of Wapping, but the mid-Victorian bourgeois enclave of Hackney (yes, before it was gentrified, it was posh): a banker murdered on the train between Fenchurch Street and Chalk Farm.
Colquhoun has obviously, more than obviously, done her research. Every detail is meticulously referenced in the notes. Tanner can't wipe a handkerchief across his fevered brow without this being noted as having been reported in the Times, p7, 1st August 1864. Strange then, that there is an essential mix up between Hackney Central station (then just called Hackney) and Hackney Wick (also known as Victoria Park). Given that the murder takes place between Bow station and Hackney Wick, this is kind of a crucial detail. But Colquhoun has Briggs get on the train at Hackney Central and there is even a rather lovely Victorian drawing of Mare Street with Augustine Tower in the background. She also confuses Euston station with Euston Square (tube) station, which didn't exist at the time. She does use her research to provide period details to create atmosphere, but sometimes it comes over as rather purple-prosey.
There is much plus ca change: private train companies that put profit before safety, the police fail to follow leads that don't fit with the supposed version of events, witnesses are considered unreliable based on social status, the newspapers pre-judge the defendant before his trial, there's a draconian Home Sec, happy to send a possibly innocent man to his death, and other politicians use the case to further their own agendas.
The main crux, however, is did Muller kill Briggs it? This is the Victorian version of Making A Murderer. The evidence looks pretty water tight – until it doesn't. The detail and research sometimes slows up the book so you don't get any feeling of urgency or energy - I did wonder if Colquhoun should have novelised the story, rather than created a true crime book, but overall it's an enjoyable slice of Victorian history.
Thomas Briggs was killed on a train in 1864. Here Colquhoun tells the true story of the investigation and trial into who was responsible.
The book often doesn't feel like a non-fiction book due to the style it is written in. It is told pretty much as a narrative from the night of the murder right the way through the investigation up until a hanging. It does a good job at telling us what the people involved were like and the use of contemporary sources within the text is clever. Real quotes are written in italics and are fitted in like a natural part of the narrative.
At the same time though there is a lot of information here. Were it a fiction story I would complain that it often drifts from the main point and suddenly has a few paragraphs giving facts about something. Actually thought this is really good and the author manages to give information about lots of aspects of social history including railways, the police, funerals, Atlantic travel, trials and capital punishment. There's lots of interesting history here and although I know a fair bit about the time period there was plenty of little details I didn't know.
The biggest problem though is the excitement factor. Given that it is almost written as fiction, it feels like there should be a few more twists and turns. There's also something quite unsatisfactory about never knowing for certain what happened and who was responsible. This is not the author's fault, it's just a frustration- I would at least have liked the author to have speculated further in the afterword and given her own personal view of what happened.
An interesting and unique book about a murder lost in history but was a huge news story at the time, with lots of social history entwined.
A lot of books have been written going into details about crimes committed in the 19th century. This one is not really out of the ordinary, but in my case interesting as the place where the murder took place was an area which I knew quite well as I lived there in the first 20 years of my life. The East End of London has changed a lot over the years. I was surprised to read about a railway line existing where the murder was comitted, with station names Hackney Wick, Bethnal Green etc. Trains were perhaps not as safe during the last century, each apartment being sealed and locked, no opportunity to leave the train when it was moving and under these circumstances, if you happen to be locked in with a criminal, then there is no escape.
So it happened that the body of a man was found near to the railway lines. A suspect was arrested. Was it all cicumstantial evidence or did he really commit the crime. Details of how the police caught him, combined with a journey by ship to America, and of his court case are narrated. There was no such thing as forensic science in the last century, and all clues were a matter of interpretation by the police. This case, being particularly brutal, attracted publicity.
I found the book interesting, showing how things were done in the mid nineteenth century and although the outcome of the trial was to be expected, a certain small doubt remains whether this was a miscarriage of justice or not. I even felt sorry for the prisoner. I can recommend the book, but perhaps only if you have an interest in the crimes of London, especially East London.
There seems to be a big of a vogue at the moment for Victorian true crime - I'm thinking of 'The Suspicions of Mr Whicher', 'Mrs Robinson's Diary' etc. Personally I think it's a fascination with the curiosity dichotomy of Victorian life - that respectable exterior versus the seedy underbelly, the dignity and restraint verse the morbid ghoulishness. And what can I say, I'm a sucker for all of that.
This book charts the case of the murder of Mr Thomas Briggs, a respectable middle-class City banker, murdered in his first class train carriage on his way home one evening. The case aroused a real outcry in England, tapping into a latent fear of the powerless of man in the face of progress and technology. His death violated the illusion of safety on the railways. His hat proved to be one of the keys to solving his murder, hence the title of the book.
I found this a very enjoyable read, very balanced and impartial, and a real insight into the workings of the police and courts in Victorian England. I personally was left with serious doubts about the accuracy of the verdict, and it's a shame that at this remove it isn't possible to erase those doubts.
My one criticism would be the location of the photographic plates. The captions on several images told me the verdict of the case before I'd reached that point in the narrative, which was disappointing!
The murder of Mr. Thomas Briggs in a locked first-class railway carriage might have been the London trial everyone talked about in 1864, but Kate Coquhoun's account is not as sensational as the title implies. It's a sturdy and dutiful piece of research, to be sure, with an abundance of hats in evidence. Missing hats. Bloodied hats. Crushed hats. Hats with new lining. Hats that had been sewn and not glued. It's a Victorian shell game, with a murderer hidden beneath Colquhoun's avalanche of hats.
Sadly, there's really just not much of substance here in the end, however. The author hints strongly that man convicted and hung for the crime might have been blameless—but introduces no contemporary evidence to support the suggestion, and provides no alternative interpretation of what the police detectives at the time concluded. There's not even much in the way of examining the aftermath of a case that Colquhoun tries repeatedly to claim was game-changing; once the accused meets the hangman, the book's pretty much over.
As a glimpse into detective procedural of the time, Mr Briggs' Hat offers plenty of material. As supposed sensation, though, it's easy to say that the book runs off the tracks.
This was okay. It started fairly briskly but got kind of bogged down as the narrative went on. Thomas Briggs was found dead on the railway tracks having been assaulted & either was either thrown or fell from the train. The clues were few & far between and police investigation by detectives was still in its infancy. Ultimately a young man, Thomas Mueller became the chief person of interest and was ultimately extradited from the USA where he sailed to shortly after the death of Briggs. The case constructed against Mueller was very circumstantial. By today's standards, I doubt you'd get a conviction. However he was found guilty and sentenced to death. What stands out is the pace of the legal process back in the day. The author makes some good analysis about the impact of a crime in an essentially middle-class scenario (1st class carriage of a London train) and the impact of this on the national psyche.
A great subject and something the author could really have got her teeth into but instead it was a rather pedestrian account of what claimed to be a 'sensationalisation ' of Britain's first railway murder.
Interesting—I like how Colquhoun related this murder case to contextual Victorian concerns and legislation about the railways, defence trial procedure, and capital punishment.