Hallowe’en, when the dead walk. Spirits, ghouls, vampires, mixed in with serial killers and movie villains. We consume so much horror in our leisure that it's easy to forget that most murder is a macabre intimacy, a horror in miniature.
This is a story without ghouls, or axe-murderers; but a story of bones and haunting self-interest.
Lydia Atley was born in Ringstead, between Thrapston and Raunds. She was probably born in 1821, but her parents were lax about baptising their many children, so it's difficult to be certain. Her father died in August 1840, and Lydia appears to have stayed with her mother, helping with her younger siblings. The Atley girls were not the most respectable young women. Lydia became pregnant in 1848, giving birth to her daughter at the end of the year. This daughter died in mid-1849, but Lydia was pregnant again by the end of October. Meanwhile, her sister Elizabeth had moved in with a widow called Joseph Groom, and was busy having his children - they eventually legitimised their relationship in 1859.
The father of Lydia's second child was a local man named William Weekly Ball, known universally as Weekly. Weekly was roughly the same age as Lydia, and had married in 1843. His marriage was childless. He was the village butcher, and owned a reasonably large property, including a yard and orchard. He was very well-known. Weekly and Lydia's relationship was an open secret.
In May 1850, Lydia's mother died. Lydia was seven months pregnant, and lived with her youngest brother, aged eighteen. An unmarried neighbour, Sarah Ann Phillips (later Manning), spent every night with Lydia after her mother died, presumably in case the baby came. It's likely this was so Lydia didn't have to go to the workhouse to have her baby. Sarah Ann, who was about twenty, also appears to have looked after Lydia and her brother, helping with meal planning.
Lydia had an older sister, Sarah Dix, who also lived nearby. Sarah had a baby in June 1850 and was slow to recover. Lydia went to Sarah every day to check on her and the baby, and do some chores for her. Sarah Dix's brother-in-law, Henry Dix, worked on the land, but he was also the informal dentist of the village. In July, Lydia begged him to pull an aching tooth. Henry was reluctant at first, as Lydia's pregnancy was so advanced, but eventually did this around 8th July.
On 22nd July 1850, Lydia's labour began. She commented on this when she was with her sister Sarah, telling her how ill she felt and how she thought the baby was on way. She had a bad leg, and limped as she organised her sister's washing.
Lydia went home for a rest, and then went to the shop for Sarah Ann Manning. She bought soap, soda and food: Sarah Ann was planning to make rice pudding the next day, and they'd need to do extra washing when the baby was born. Sarah Ann met Lydia coming back from the shop, and took the shopping. She went back into the house at 9pm, but Lydia did not. She had arranged to meet Weekly Ball, to get some money, presumably to help pay for her confinement.
John Hill was walking in Back Lane that evening, and saw Weekly going into his orchard. He then heard voices in Weekly's orchard. Lydia had a loud, distinctive voice according to those who knew her. Weekly was more softly spoken. John Hill heard Lydia say "I won't, I won't, it's yours and nobody else's." He then crouched and watched Lydia back away from Weekly. He would not swear to it, but John thought he saw Weekly grab Lydia. John then went home, having left his baby unattended.
Joseph Groom lived near Weekly's yard. At 9:45pm, he went outside to smoke a pipe in the warm evening air. He clearly heard Lydia and Weekly talking in the orchard adjoining Weekly's property, picking up the conversation from where John Hill had lost it. Again, he could only hear Lydia. "Get off me, for I believe you mean killing me tonight Weekly Ball", and then "The Lord have mercy upon me tonight if I'm to die in the state I'm in." Joseph heard no more words, only a strange grumbling sound that seemed to be moving away from him.
John Hill's wife, Hannah, was visiting a neighbour, Mrs Gunn that evening, hence the baby being left alone. She left Mrs Gunn's at 10pm, and they both testified to hearing a scream around that time from the direction of the orchard.
Lydia was never seen again.
But her story does not end there. When Lydia did not come home, rumours grew, especially when John Hill met Weekly walking across a field holding a hoe the following afternoon. But where was she? The neighbours went to the police, who began to investigate. Weekly was arrested, but released due to the lack of evidence.
On 12th August 1850, a letter arrived from William Ball, a relative of Weekly's. William wrote to say that he'd seen Lydia in the company of a man in Gold Street, Northampton, and his mother recieved the letter in Ringstead. She duly took it to the magistrate. Nobody believed this letter, and the following appeared in the Northampton Mercury on 14th September 1850:
Nobody came forward.
But Ringstead remembered.
In 1859, in the village of Little Addington, a skeleton was unearthed from a shallow grave in a field that had not been ploughed for a few years. Four inches deep, the skeleton appeared to be female, buried bent over. If this was Lydia, then nothing came of it: no arrests, no charges.
In 1841, the fields between Denford and Keystone had been enclosed, and the lane between the fields had become impossibly squelchy. In 1851, the road had been repaired, but at the time of Lydia's disappearance, this lane was a mudbath, liable to sink any cart to the wheel axels.
On 4th February 1864, some men engaged in widening a ditch on this lane discovered a skull, fracturing it into three pieces when their shovel made contact. One of the men removed the skull, covered it with grass and went about his work. The next day, he quietly informed his boss that he thought he'd found the body of Lydia Atley, and his boss sent him and another man to continue excavation. They gently uncovered the rest of the skeleton, buried eighteen inches deep, and the police were sent for. In turn, they fetched the local doctor. This was one John Griffith Leete, a fifty-six year old doctor from Thrapston, who had no forensic training or experience. However, he was sure the body was that of a young woman, who had been in the ground for more than twelve years.
Weekly Ball was arrested anew, and his magistrate's hearing followed on 22nd and 25th February 1864, attended by most of Ringstead. Almost fourteen years had passed since Lydia's disappearance, but memories were fresh. Weekly was represented by Mr Gaches of Peterborough, and he cross-examined each witness with some skill. He cast aspersions on everyone, accusing John Hill of running a brothel, accusing Joseph Groom of having sex with Lydia, and claiming at least one other man was Lydia's child's father. If Lydia was a slut and Ringstead a hotbed of vice, then Weekly was not the father. And if he was not the father, why would he need to kill Lydia?
J G Leete was not exempt from this cross-examination. His exhumation and examination of the body was flawed, even by the standards of 1864, and the Gaches family held the coronership for Norman Cross, and knew a bit about remains. It seems that in the cold and dark February evening, Leete had been sloppy. He had not sketched the body in situ, he had not examined or sifted the soil for other evidence. When the hearing recommenced, Leete had to correct some of the evidence he had given earlier in the week. However, Leete had known Lydia - he delivered her first baby in 1848 - and he seemed fairly sure it was her.
An expert from London, William Orlando Markham, rescued the evidence somewhat. He testified that the body was female, about five feet two inches tall, and that it had been in the ground less than twenty years, but long enough to lose all the soft tissue. He noted the loamy soil in which the body was placed would cause a speedy decomposition. He also testified that the gap in the jaw was of a tooth that had been extracted shortly before death. Henry Dix was absolutely positive that it was Lydia's jaw: he remembered the tooth he had drawn.
But where was the baby? Had it rotted or, as the two medical experts suggested, had Lydia given birth as she died? Her labour had been in progress all day. Had strangulation caused her to spontaneously give birth?
A man named Samuel Fairey came forward with more evidence, evidence that he had never shared before. He lived close to Weekly's yard, and was a shoemaker. He got up with the dawn to work, and was up at 3am on 23rd July 1850. As he got ready, he heard the water pump in the yard go, and then stop. When he went to see who it was, there was nobody there. Poor Samuel and his wife were horrified when they learned they'd probably overseen a murder, and left Ringstead a few months later. Samuel testified that he was plagued with bad dreams, believing he had heard a ghost. I think it's far more likely that he heard Weekly cleaning up.
More evidence was given about the letter that William Ball wrote in August 1850. He confessed in the hearing that Weekly had asked him to write it, and that he hadn't seen Lydia. William's mother was fetched to the court to testify that she had recieved the letter and passed it on. This testimony shook Weekly, who had stood unemotionless for the majority of the hearing, and when he was indicted for murder, he seemed thoroughly anxious.
The people of Ringstead were ready to lynch him, there and then. But they had to wait for the Lent Assize: not a long wait, they opened on 7th March. But while they waited, investigations continued in the spot where the remains were found. And another skeleton was unearthed, deeper than Lydia's.
It transpired that, prior to enclosure, these fields had been used as Gypsy encampments. Perhaps they had buried their dead there? Although there is a marked difference between a rural, respectful burial and throwing a body face down, naked into a ditch, this introduced reasonable doubt. There was no firm evidence that this body was Lydia. There was nothing to compare the body to, no xrays, no DNA evidence, no hair, nothing. The gap in the jaw was perhaps the most compelling evidence, but again, this identity was rooted in the testimony of Henry Dix, a labourer moonlighting with a pair of grips.
There was absolutely no evidence that Lydia was dead. Only assumptions.
So when the case came to the assize, there was a long conversation between Mr Justice Crompton, Mr Sergeant Tozer, and the two barristers appointed to prosecute and defend Weekly. The evidence was strong enough to proceed to trial, but almost certainly not enough to convict. And if Weekly, a respectable man who had spent a fair amount of money on his defence counsel, was acquitted, then he could never be tried again if a more convincing body turned up.
They decided not to present the bill to the Grand Jury, the last stage in committing Weekly to trial. Instead, they discharged him so they could try him again if necessary.
Weekly Ball thanked his lucky stars, and ran away to Ramsey where he spent the rest of his life. His long-suffering, silent wife moved with him. She died in 1874, and Weekly died in 1896.
No other bodies were ever linked to Lydia's disappearance, and I suspect this skeleton was hers and that she met her end in an orchard, in labour, at the hands of a man trying to cover his own adultery.
It is said that Lydia's ghost still haunts Ringstead. I do not believe in ghosts, but if any spirit warrants restlessness, it is hers.
SOURCES: Bedfordshire Times, 9th Apr 1859, p.4. Northampton Mercury, 27th Feb 1864 pp.7-8; 12th Mar 1864, p.6.