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Did She Kill Him?: A Victorian tale of deception, adultery and arsenic
In the summer of 1889, young Southern belle Florence Maybrick stood trial for the alleged arsenic poisoning of her much older husband, Liverpool cotton merchant James Maybrick.
'The Maybrick Mystery' had all the makings of a sensation: a pretty, flirtatious young girl; resentful, gossiping servants; rumours of gambling and debt; and torrid mutual infidelity. The case cracked the varnish of Victorian respectability, shocking and exciting the public in equal measure as they clambered to read the latest revelations of Florence's past and glimpse her likeness in Madame Tussaud's.
Florence's fate was fiercely debated in the courtroom, on the front pages of the newspapers and in parlours and backyards across the country. Did she poison her husband? Was her previous infidelity proof of murderous intentions? Was James' own habit of self-medicating to blame for his demise?
Historian Kate Colquhoun recounts an utterly absorbing tale of addiction, deception and adultery that keeps you asking to the very last page, did she kill him?
'The Maybrick Mystery' had all the makings of a sensation: a pretty, flirtatious young girl; resentful, gossiping servants; rumours of gambling and debt; and torrid mutual infidelity. The case cracked the varnish of Victorian respectability, shocking and exciting the public in equal measure as they clambered to read the latest revelations of Florence's past and glimpse her likeness in Madame Tussaud's.
Florence's fate was fiercely debated in the courtroom, on the front pages of the newspapers and in parlours and backyards across the country. Did she poison her husband? Was her previous infidelity proof of murderous intentions? Was James' own habit of self-medicating to blame for his demise?
Historian Kate Colquhoun recounts an utterly absorbing tale of addiction, deception and adultery that keeps you asking to the very last page, did she kill him?
419 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2014
About the author
Kate Colquhoun
8 books24 followersKate 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.
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.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 81 reviews
December 4, 2014
Je ne connaissais pas Kate Colquhoun, mais j’avais lu et beaucoup aimé L’affaire de Road Hill House, de Kate Summerscale, dans le même genre.
Nous avons là un fait divers survenu à Liverpool en 1889 : une jeune Américaine est accusée d’avoir empoisonné son mari Anglais à l’arsenic.
L’auteur a manifestement accompli un énorme travail de documentation afin de relater ce fait divers victorien. Du romanesque, nous en avons bien peu, juste assez pour rendre le récit non seulement digeste, mais passionnant ! Sans rien oublier des faits, l’auteur nous les raconte en reconstruisant minutieusement le contexte social et historique.
Le mariage de Florence et James Maybrick est un mariage en apparence heureux, et le couple s’efforce de répondre aux attentes de ses contemporains en assumant leur place dans la bonne société victorienne. Très vite, nous comprenons que les apparences sont trompeuses, et que le poids des conventions pèse lourd dans la vie de Florence, à la fois déracinée de son pays et transplantée dans un environnement guindé, puritain et intolérant.
Le jour où James tombe malade et finit par trépasser à l’issue de quinze jours d’agonie, les soupçons se portent sur Florence.
L’auteur construit son récit autour d’une documentation phénoménale, tous les faits connus et archivés à l’époque, témoignages, articles de journaux, compte-rendus de procès, rapports de police, autant de documents qui lui ont servi à alimenter son propos, les moindres détails nous sont exposés, sans jamais tomber dans l’ennui ni le rébarbatif, la méticulosité dont fait preuve l’auteur force le respect. Aussi prenant qu’un polar, le livre approfondit également les dessous de l’ère victorienne, la condition de la femme au sein du mariage, réduite à une chose insignifiante dont le rôle principal est de procréer, de gérer une maison (je n’ose dire élever les enfants, étant donné qu’une nourrice était là pour ça !) et de faire joli en société.
La partie consacrée au procès est tout aussi passionnante que la mise en situation, certains échanges entre avocats et témoins, le parti pris du juge laissent perplexe un lecteur du XXIe siècle. Les éléments contradictoires abondent, et peuvent donner lieu à des interprétations tout aussi contradictoires, ajoutons à cela des apparences potentiellement trompeuses, des non-dits, des préjugés et une hostilité envers l’accusée, et nous avons un verdict surprenant, voire absurde et biaisé. L’importance de la presse est également primordiale, l’affaire ayant défrayé la chronique, les journaux ainsi que l’opinion publique furent divisés, voire renversés en cours de procès, et le verdict fut suivi d’une vague de protestation et de pétitions demandant l’acquittement de Florence Maybrick.
L’objectivité de l’auteur est telle qu’il est impossible de se forger une opinion dans un sens ou dans l’autre, la question demeure donc : l’a-t-elle empoisonné ?
Un gros coup de cœur pour cette intrigue qui dépasse la fiction.
Nous avons là un fait divers survenu à Liverpool en 1889 : une jeune Américaine est accusée d’avoir empoisonné son mari Anglais à l’arsenic.
L’auteur a manifestement accompli un énorme travail de documentation afin de relater ce fait divers victorien. Du romanesque, nous en avons bien peu, juste assez pour rendre le récit non seulement digeste, mais passionnant ! Sans rien oublier des faits, l’auteur nous les raconte en reconstruisant minutieusement le contexte social et historique.
Le mariage de Florence et James Maybrick est un mariage en apparence heureux, et le couple s’efforce de répondre aux attentes de ses contemporains en assumant leur place dans la bonne société victorienne. Très vite, nous comprenons que les apparences sont trompeuses, et que le poids des conventions pèse lourd dans la vie de Florence, à la fois déracinée de son pays et transplantée dans un environnement guindé, puritain et intolérant.
Le jour où James tombe malade et finit par trépasser à l’issue de quinze jours d’agonie, les soupçons se portent sur Florence.
L’auteur construit son récit autour d’une documentation phénoménale, tous les faits connus et archivés à l’époque, témoignages, articles de journaux, compte-rendus de procès, rapports de police, autant de documents qui lui ont servi à alimenter son propos, les moindres détails nous sont exposés, sans jamais tomber dans l’ennui ni le rébarbatif, la méticulosité dont fait preuve l’auteur force le respect. Aussi prenant qu’un polar, le livre approfondit également les dessous de l’ère victorienne, la condition de la femme au sein du mariage, réduite à une chose insignifiante dont le rôle principal est de procréer, de gérer une maison (je n’ose dire élever les enfants, étant donné qu’une nourrice était là pour ça !) et de faire joli en société.
La partie consacrée au procès est tout aussi passionnante que la mise en situation, certains échanges entre avocats et témoins, le parti pris du juge laissent perplexe un lecteur du XXIe siècle. Les éléments contradictoires abondent, et peuvent donner lieu à des interprétations tout aussi contradictoires, ajoutons à cela des apparences potentiellement trompeuses, des non-dits, des préjugés et une hostilité envers l’accusée, et nous avons un verdict surprenant, voire absurde et biaisé. L’importance de la presse est également primordiale, l’affaire ayant défrayé la chronique, les journaux ainsi que l’opinion publique furent divisés, voire renversés en cours de procès, et le verdict fut suivi d’une vague de protestation et de pétitions demandant l’acquittement de Florence Maybrick.
L’objectivité de l’auteur est telle qu’il est impossible de se forger une opinion dans un sens ou dans l’autre, la question demeure donc : l’a-t-elle empoisonné ?
Un gros coup de cœur pour cette intrigue qui dépasse la fiction.
March 3, 2015
4.5
"The Maybrick Mystery contained potent ingredients: marital disharmony, a young American wife's misplaced infatuation, disloyal servants, oddly treacherous friends, police rifling through linen cupboards and a flurry of intercepted letters and telegrams".
I do love a good Victorian true crime book, and if it is an arsenic poisoning case then all the better. This one is an absolute belter - one of the best I've ever read.
I always find it difficult to review such books though as I don't want to give away the 'ending' so to speak. Many of the Victorian show case trials are well known anyway, and many readers probably know the outcome before they even begin the book. But others might not, so I will be reticent.
Beautifully written throughout, the book really sets the scene for this late Victorian drama. Colquhoun never steers too far away from the actual murder case, but she does include some relevant information on the history of forensics, especially when it comes to suspected arsenic poisoning cases.
The history of the Women's Movement is also discussed - late Victorian England was still very much a man's world but there were glimmers of light. However, male attitudes such as 'female emancipation would lead not simply to corruption but to an increase in crime' were prevalent and middle class women caught up in murder cases were increasingly pursued by the law.
Andy my goodness, didn't 3rd generation male Victorians have moral hypocrisy down to a fine art!
So, Did She Kill Him? I couldn't possibly say, but I'd certainly recommend you read the book and find out.............
"The Maybrick Mystery contained potent ingredients: marital disharmony, a young American wife's misplaced infatuation, disloyal servants, oddly treacherous friends, police rifling through linen cupboards and a flurry of intercepted letters and telegrams".
I do love a good Victorian true crime book, and if it is an arsenic poisoning case then all the better. This one is an absolute belter - one of the best I've ever read.
I always find it difficult to review such books though as I don't want to give away the 'ending' so to speak. Many of the Victorian show case trials are well known anyway, and many readers probably know the outcome before they even begin the book. But others might not, so I will be reticent.
Beautifully written throughout, the book really sets the scene for this late Victorian drama. Colquhoun never steers too far away from the actual murder case, but she does include some relevant information on the history of forensics, especially when it comes to suspected arsenic poisoning cases.
The history of the Women's Movement is also discussed - late Victorian England was still very much a man's world but there were glimmers of light. However, male attitudes such as 'female emancipation would lead not simply to corruption but to an increase in crime' were prevalent and middle class women caught up in murder cases were increasingly pursued by the law.
Andy my goodness, didn't 3rd generation male Victorians have moral hypocrisy down to a fine art!
So, Did She Kill Him? I couldn't possibly say, but I'd certainly recommend you read the book and find out.............
June 17, 2016
Being a true history lover, I have no idea why I suddenly take off on these true crime book tangents but, nevertheless, I've done it again. In this story, set in the Victorian age when women seemed to be killing off their husbands with poison at an alarming rate, which is pretty well done, the author has done her research on a famous (for the time) crime of....you guessed it......a husband who dies mysteriously and poison is indicated. The much younger wife is the first and only suspect and a case is built on less than solid evidence. Forensic science was practically unknown and the "experts" could not agree on the cause of death since the husband was known to take arsenic periodically. This was a practice that was far more common that I realized and did not have deadly effects if taken in small doses. Did he just take too much by accident or did his wife see this as a cover for killing him?
The trial is basically a fiasco with a senile judge and conflicting testimony and leads to a rather surprising conclusion. It is a pretty interesting read for something different.
The trial is basically a fiasco with a senile judge and conflicting testimony and leads to a rather surprising conclusion. It is a pretty interesting read for something different.
November 25, 2017
An interesting case, well-written.
June 4, 2015
Phew. I am so glad to be done with this one, which is a huge disappointment because I had high hopes for it. Usually, I enjoy non-fiction history books and this one looked so interesting at the library that I snatched it right off of the New Books shelf, positive that I'd love it. Sadly, I was mistaken. The story in and of itself was very interesting and was one that I'd not heard of before. I sincerely felt for the woman portrayed, but he way that the facts were presented was so dry and dull that it was difficult to stay focused. Add to that the author's tendency to slip into fictionalizing the facts (I assume in an attempt to inject some life into her writing) and this book was just kind of a disaster to me.
June 9, 2021
I had never heard of the "Maybrick Mystery" case from 1889, even though the woman accused of the crime (in Liverpool, England) was an American. It did get somewhat into the beginnings of forensics because they were trying to determine whether or not James Maybrick died of arsenic & opinion seemed to be divided among the experts. It seemed a confusing mess to determine what drugs/medicines/"cures" were in the house (so many bottles/packets/sheets around the mansion), what they contained, if/when the victim had taken or been given any, was enough arsenic residue & evidence found in the body to unequivocally say he was poisoned, etc.... That was confusing not only to the jurors, but others involved in the case (plus me). The scientific evidence part of it was a long, confusing muddle (probably to be expected since this was one of the earliest big cases to rely on lots of scientific/medical opinion). The man was a bit of a hypochondriac & partook of many of the common Victorian "treatments" & "cures" of the time. (Lots of arsenic, strychnine, opium,... & "meat juice" [a product of the time]. That still makes me laugh. What a very unappealing name.) Toss in infidelity, gossiping servants, hidden debts, & you have a Kardashian-level publicity machine churning..... At the time, there was no appeal process in murder cases like this, but public opinion was strongly swayed by the press, so there was much/continual outpouring of calls for appeals due to the uncertainty of the case.
The author also added the occasional bit of literary analysis from the time, talking about the role of women in that time period, the repression, etc... & mentioned things like various Henry James characters, Flaubert's Bovary, & more.
It probably could have been a wee bit shorter. And there were a lot of names. I realized, after the fact, that there was a list of people in the back of the book & it would have been helpful had I realized that when I was reading, instead of after finishing. All in all, a solid 3 star read for me & one I'd recommend for those who enjoy this type of non-fiction.
The author also added the occasional bit of literary analysis from the time, talking about the role of women in that time period, the repression, etc... & mentioned things like various Henry James characters, Flaubert's Bovary, & more.
It probably could have been a wee bit shorter. And there were a lot of names. I realized, after the fact, that there was a list of people in the back of the book & it would have been helpful had I realized that when I was reading, instead of after finishing. All in all, a solid 3 star read for me & one I'd recommend for those who enjoy this type of non-fiction.
April 25, 2014
I have been dying to read this book for ages, as the Maybrick case if one of my ‘favourites’, so I was delighted when I finally got my hands on a copy.
Did She Kill Him? is a compelling account of a real-life courtroom drama, underpinned by the intriguing themes of deception, adultery and death by arsenic poisoning.
The powerful opening grips the reader from the outset as Florence Maybrick prepares to face the life-or-death verdict in her trial for the murder of her husband, James. ‘Worldly but not wise,’ Florence is trapped in a conventional marriage and behind the wealthy façade of Battlecrease House in the suburbs of Liverpool, lies a life of boredom, isolation and loneliness. As we explore the back-story to this infamous case, the cracks in the respectable veneer of not only the Maybrick household, but in middle class Victorian relationships soon appear.
This classic criminal case is re-told with the consummate skill and infectious passion of Kate Colquhoun. With meticulous research and poignant snippets from Florence’s diary, she recreates the story and pieces together the events that conspired to place her in the dock for murder. Kate’s evocative descriptions and rich detail bring the characters fully back to life, with all their hypocrisies, flaws and ambiguities. Written with all the tension and pace of a novel, the suspense is maintained throughout the twists and turns of the drama. Although the central question is that of whether Florence Maybrick murdered her husband, this book goes much further as Kate explores gender issues in the late-Victorian period and the legacy of the sexual politics that still remains present today.
Did She Kill Him? is a fascinating and thought-provoking book and I would highly recommend it.
Did She Kill Him? is a compelling account of a real-life courtroom drama, underpinned by the intriguing themes of deception, adultery and death by arsenic poisoning.
The powerful opening grips the reader from the outset as Florence Maybrick prepares to face the life-or-death verdict in her trial for the murder of her husband, James. ‘Worldly but not wise,’ Florence is trapped in a conventional marriage and behind the wealthy façade of Battlecrease House in the suburbs of Liverpool, lies a life of boredom, isolation and loneliness. As we explore the back-story to this infamous case, the cracks in the respectable veneer of not only the Maybrick household, but in middle class Victorian relationships soon appear.
This classic criminal case is re-told with the consummate skill and infectious passion of Kate Colquhoun. With meticulous research and poignant snippets from Florence’s diary, she recreates the story and pieces together the events that conspired to place her in the dock for murder. Kate’s evocative descriptions and rich detail bring the characters fully back to life, with all their hypocrisies, flaws and ambiguities. Written with all the tension and pace of a novel, the suspense is maintained throughout the twists and turns of the drama. Although the central question is that of whether Florence Maybrick murdered her husband, this book goes much further as Kate explores gender issues in the late-Victorian period and the legacy of the sexual politics that still remains present today.
Did She Kill Him? is a fascinating and thought-provoking book and I would highly recommend it.
June 10, 2019
An o.k read about Florence Maybrick who went on trial for murdering her much older husband.Much of the forensic evidence is very detailed and difficult to follow.I found my head being repeatedly being scrambled.
December 3, 2017
Listened to in audio format.
American Florence Maybrick moved to Liverpool after marrying her husband James Maybrick. Florence was a vivacious woman in her twenties and James was twice her age and was a hypochondriac who self medicated with arsenic.
The marriage was unhappy and both Florence and James had affairs. Then James became mysteriously ill and Florence nursed him at his bedside. When James did not recover his elder brother hired a private nurse to care for him. The nurse became suspicious when food Florence brought to James smelt and looked unusual. A maid found a plate in Florence's bedroom containing arsenic made by fly papers. When the nurse and other staff told the brother of their concerns, Florence was banned from seeing James or having anything to do with his care.
When James eventually died, a postmortem found he died from arsenic poisoning. Weeks later Florence was arrested, charged with murder.
I enjoyed the show trial and listening to the evidence from her disloyal staff and in-laws. Did She Kill Him was a well researched book showing what life was like for a middle class Victorian lady.
I would recommend this book to historians and true crime buffs.
American Florence Maybrick moved to Liverpool after marrying her husband James Maybrick. Florence was a vivacious woman in her twenties and James was twice her age and was a hypochondriac who self medicated with arsenic.
The marriage was unhappy and both Florence and James had affairs. Then James became mysteriously ill and Florence nursed him at his bedside. When James did not recover his elder brother hired a private nurse to care for him. The nurse became suspicious when food Florence brought to James smelt and looked unusual. A maid found a plate in Florence's bedroom containing arsenic made by fly papers. When the nurse and other staff told the brother of their concerns, Florence was banned from seeing James or having anything to do with his care.
When James eventually died, a postmortem found he died from arsenic poisoning. Weeks later Florence was arrested, charged with murder.
I enjoyed the show trial and listening to the evidence from her disloyal staff and in-laws. Did She Kill Him was a well researched book showing what life was like for a middle class Victorian lady.
I would recommend this book to historians and true crime buffs.
April 22, 2014
I read this astonishing account of the Maybrick case scarcely taking a breath over the course of two days. With great skill and command, Kate Colquhoun, author of another page-turner, Mr. Briggs' Hat, has given us the tragic story of Florence Maybrick, a Southern belle transplanted to Victorian Liverpool, and her fight for justice against the backdrop of gender inequality and the social structures of the time.
Often a harrowing read, Colquhoun relays in detail Florence's husband James Maybrick's spiralling physical condition caused by his self-medicating addiction and hypochondria, resulting in his deterioration and, finally, two gruesome autopsies. The slow, excruciating isolation and ruin of Florence, who is accused of poisoning her husband, climaxes in a grippingly narrated trial. I was swept away by the author's keen observations, her immense research and her ability to engage us in the facts in a stylish and novelistic way.
Often a harrowing read, Colquhoun relays in detail Florence's husband James Maybrick's spiralling physical condition caused by his self-medicating addiction and hypochondria, resulting in his deterioration and, finally, two gruesome autopsies. The slow, excruciating isolation and ruin of Florence, who is accused of poisoning her husband, climaxes in a grippingly narrated trial. I was swept away by the author's keen observations, her immense research and her ability to engage us in the facts in a stylish and novelistic way.
July 16, 2017
This is a very well researched history of the Maybrick case, looking in particular at the position of middle-class women at the time. Florence was a young American and her English husband was many years older. The marriage was under strain with infidelities and financial mismanagement on both sides. This book doesn't really answer the question of the title, and despite all the details it is not clear whether James Maybrick died of poisoning at all, other than the effect of long-term substance abuse (he having been in the habit of taking all kinds of strange things, including arsenic, for years). Very interesting on the double standards of the day (terribly shocking for a married woman to have had a fling and a dirty weekend in London, fine for a married man to keep a mistress and give his wife a black eye). The impression one has is that even at the time it was acknowledged that the trial, and in particular the judge's summing up, was flawed. Queen Victoria doesn't come out of this too well either! The only thing which jarred a bit was the fictionalised swishing of skirts and crying of seagulls and so on, all plausible but it makes the tone of the book a little inconsistent.
September 19, 2024
Amazing research and had me guessing til the end. Minus one star because the Br*t*sh piss my off, bad
July 9, 2022
Unfortunately the narrative was not clear enough, too many digressions which was completely unnecessary. I would have liked to see a doctor being asked about poisoning to add another layer to the story.
An ok book, but it could have been so much better without the sensationalistic approach.
An ok book, but it could have been so much better without the sensationalistic approach.
August 14, 2016
This Victorian lady lived in Liverpool and was tried for murder in August 1889, in fact I was reading this 127 years to the day the verdict was passed. Florence had publicly argued with her husband in the spring of 1889 and then almost immediately afterwards he fell ill, seemingly rallied and then died. Shortly before his death the first hint of poisoning being the cause of his malaise were whispered in the well-upholstered corridors of Battlecrease House in suburban Aigburth, the house the family rented in order to keep up a suitable presence amongst their peers.
With arsenic being the suspected poison much was made of a dish of fly-papers found soaking by the maid Bessie in Florence’s bedroom and this added to whispers about the appearance and smell of the food sent to the sick room altering whipped up a hotbed of suspicion in the household. When the nursery nurse the fabulously named Alice Yapp, on opening a letter written by Florence to another man decided to hand it to a family friend, the die was cast for Florence and James’s elder brother Michael was summoned home to take control in the last days of James’s life.
I really enjoyed Kate Coluhoun’s book about this interesting crime the mystery of whether Florence did kill James, something which I think is still in question today. She starts the book by building up Florence with a more sympathetic characterisation than some authors have treated her to, but more than that, by using her imagination against a backdrop of superb research, treats the reader to a version of what life was like for the twenty-six year old American woman living the life as a wife to a cotton trader.
In a while she would call Bessie to take it to the post. For the present her tapering fingers remained idle in the lap from which one of her three cats had lately jumped, bored by her failure to show it affection.
Today, the twenty-six year old was wonderfully put together her clothes painstakingly considered if a little over-fussed. Loose curls, dark blonde with a hint of auburn, were bundled up at the back of her head and fashionably frizzed across her full forehead.
Of course Kate Colquhoun can’t know for sure how Florence felt for sure but her account seemed as likely as any other to me, and by writing in this style the book is far more readable than one where we are just presented with the known facts. The backing up of her attestations with historical accuracy especially in respect to the change of heart that the nation had as the trial proceeded was fascinating. Many commentators were convinced of Florence’s guilt at the start of the trial but opinion in some quarters at least turned, and the talking point became less about Florence’s transgressions and more about the facts. To help the reader understand these fluctuations the change in attitudes is painted using the arts as a barometer with regular notes on the type of romantic fiction Florence herself read, as well as the still well-known contemporary fiction. Paintings of the time are also looked at with an eye on how women were viewed at this time and the hints of how things were changing. This after all was at the start of the suffragette movement and this caused alarm for those who held the ‘old’ social mores in high regard.
After starting in such a sympathetic manner to Florence the end of the book, by contrast then almost re-examines the evidence from another perspective, re-examining the questions that had been given a plausible answer earlier in the book. I found this intriguing and of course underlines the fact that no-one really knows whether the pretty young woman tried to kill off her husband or whether circumstances conspired against her to make it look as though she might have.
This was altogether an interesting and thoughtful look at the life of a middle-class wife in late Victorian England where times were just beginning to change but too late for those who were stuck with a role that didn’t provide them satisfaction in the narrow role they were forced to live.
I’ve heard great things about Kate Colquhoun’s previous book Mr Briggs’s Hat so you can expect to see that one appear on my bookshelf to read and review soon.
With arsenic being the suspected poison much was made of a dish of fly-papers found soaking by the maid Bessie in Florence’s bedroom and this added to whispers about the appearance and smell of the food sent to the sick room altering whipped up a hotbed of suspicion in the household. When the nursery nurse the fabulously named Alice Yapp, on opening a letter written by Florence to another man decided to hand it to a family friend, the die was cast for Florence and James’s elder brother Michael was summoned home to take control in the last days of James’s life.
I really enjoyed Kate Coluhoun’s book about this interesting crime the mystery of whether Florence did kill James, something which I think is still in question today. She starts the book by building up Florence with a more sympathetic characterisation than some authors have treated her to, but more than that, by using her imagination against a backdrop of superb research, treats the reader to a version of what life was like for the twenty-six year old American woman living the life as a wife to a cotton trader.
In a while she would call Bessie to take it to the post. For the present her tapering fingers remained idle in the lap from which one of her three cats had lately jumped, bored by her failure to show it affection.
Today, the twenty-six year old was wonderfully put together her clothes painstakingly considered if a little over-fussed. Loose curls, dark blonde with a hint of auburn, were bundled up at the back of her head and fashionably frizzed across her full forehead.
Of course Kate Colquhoun can’t know for sure how Florence felt for sure but her account seemed as likely as any other to me, and by writing in this style the book is far more readable than one where we are just presented with the known facts. The backing up of her attestations with historical accuracy especially in respect to the change of heart that the nation had as the trial proceeded was fascinating. Many commentators were convinced of Florence’s guilt at the start of the trial but opinion in some quarters at least turned, and the talking point became less about Florence’s transgressions and more about the facts. To help the reader understand these fluctuations the change in attitudes is painted using the arts as a barometer with regular notes on the type of romantic fiction Florence herself read, as well as the still well-known contemporary fiction. Paintings of the time are also looked at with an eye on how women were viewed at this time and the hints of how things were changing. This after all was at the start of the suffragette movement and this caused alarm for those who held the ‘old’ social mores in high regard.
After starting in such a sympathetic manner to Florence the end of the book, by contrast then almost re-examines the evidence from another perspective, re-examining the questions that had been given a plausible answer earlier in the book. I found this intriguing and of course underlines the fact that no-one really knows whether the pretty young woman tried to kill off her husband or whether circumstances conspired against her to make it look as though she might have.
This was altogether an interesting and thoughtful look at the life of a middle-class wife in late Victorian England where times were just beginning to change but too late for those who were stuck with a role that didn’t provide them satisfaction in the narrow role they were forced to live.
I’ve heard great things about Kate Colquhoun’s previous book Mr Briggs’s Hat so you can expect to see that one appear on my bookshelf to read and review soon.
May 18, 2018
This is a better book than Colquhoun's first, Murder in the First Class Carriage possibly because her material gave her a better thesis to explore. It's a bad title, though, because that question, "Did she, Florence Maybrick, kill him, her husband James?" is one that Colquhoun studiously does not answer. Her opinion is clear--Florence Maybrick was too stupid to commit murder successfully--but she doesn't give an answer.
And she's right not to. At this point, at this remove and with the spectacular trainwreck of Victorian medicine in the way, it's impossible to know if James Maybrick was deliberately poisoned, if he poisoned himself with quack medicines (and quite possibly died of withdrawal from arsenic, because--interesting point of order--once you habituate your body to it, you can't stop taking it), or if he was poisoned by the medicines his doctors prescribed him. And if he was deliberately poisoned, it's not at all clear that it was Florence who did it. She's just the one with the big pink-neon motive.
What is abundantly clear is that Florence Maybrick was convicted of murder because it was proved she'd committed adultery. The prosecution couldn't even actually prove that James Maybrick died of arsenic poisoning, much less that anyone deliberately poisoned him, much less that Florence was the poisoner. But the judge (Virginia Woolf's uncle) believed whole-heartedly that a woman who committed adultery was a woman who would commit murder, and he told the jury to believe that, too, and never mind the confusing medical evidence, it doesn't really matter. And the commutation of her sentence actually only compounded the judicial error, because it was the Home Office saying, "We are sure she killed him, even though the evidence doesn't support that claim. Therefore we will punish her for something we can't prove she did, but, hey, we won't kill her! (Even though the correct sentence for what we are sure she did is death.) Win-win!" The words "moral certainty" get used a lot.
Colquhoun does a good job of laying out some very confusing evidence (the chronology of when which symptoms started and when Maybrick was given what is tangled at best), and she makes it clear that Florence Maybrick was quite desperately stupid. (No, you do not give the letter you have written to your lover to the children's nurse to post, especially when you know she doesn't like you.) Also that Florence was judged guilty of murder by her husband's family before James was even dead.
So did she kill him? I don't know, but I know there was more than enough reasonable doubt to secure her acquittal, and even if she was a monster, the fact that she was sentenced to death instead makes judge and jury monsters, too.
And she's right not to. At this point, at this remove and with the spectacular trainwreck of Victorian medicine in the way, it's impossible to know if James Maybrick was deliberately poisoned, if he poisoned himself with quack medicines (and quite possibly died of withdrawal from arsenic, because--interesting point of order--once you habituate your body to it, you can't stop taking it), or if he was poisoned by the medicines his doctors prescribed him. And if he was deliberately poisoned, it's not at all clear that it was Florence who did it. She's just the one with the big pink-neon motive.
What is abundantly clear is that Florence Maybrick was convicted of murder because it was proved she'd committed adultery. The prosecution couldn't even actually prove that James Maybrick died of arsenic poisoning, much less that anyone deliberately poisoned him, much less that Florence was the poisoner. But the judge (Virginia Woolf's uncle) believed whole-heartedly that a woman who committed adultery was a woman who would commit murder, and he told the jury to believe that, too, and never mind the confusing medical evidence, it doesn't really matter. And the commutation of her sentence actually only compounded the judicial error, because it was the Home Office saying, "We are sure she killed him, even though the evidence doesn't support that claim. Therefore we will punish her for something we can't prove she did, but, hey, we won't kill her! (Even though the correct sentence for what we are sure she did is death.) Win-win!" The words "moral certainty" get used a lot.
Colquhoun does a good job of laying out some very confusing evidence (the chronology of when which symptoms started and when Maybrick was given what is tangled at best), and she makes it clear that Florence Maybrick was quite desperately stupid. (No, you do not give the letter you have written to your lover to the children's nurse to post, especially when you know she doesn't like you.) Also that Florence was judged guilty of murder by her husband's family before James was even dead.
So did she kill him? I don't know, but I know there was more than enough reasonable doubt to secure her acquittal, and even if she was a monster, the fact that she was sentenced to death instead makes judge and jury monsters, too.
May 30, 2014
In 1889 the city of Liverpool, as well as the rest of Britain, was transfixed by the trial of Florence Maybrick, a young American woman accused of poisoning to death her much older husband James. The papers could not get enough of the attractive Mrs Maybrick and the strange circumstances that surrounded her spouse's demise. Opinion regarding the justice of her eventual conviction was divided and a great effort was made to save her from the noose, an effort that was ultimately successful. Florence spent several years in prison and lost all contact with her children and her old life of wealth and social standing but one question remained unresolved: was she guilty or innocent? In "Did She Kill Him?" Kate Colquhoun goes back over the facts of the case and provides an exhaustive study of not just Florence herself but her husband, her in-laws, the doctors and the late Victorian world they inhabited especially as it pertained to the role of females. It is this last issue that seems to especially interest the author, so much so that at times the book read more as a treatise on 19th century attitudes to women and not an account of a murder by arsenical poisoning. I felt that aspect of the book was overdone and slightly repetitive, the word 'bourgeois' for example was constantly used, to the point of exhaustion. There is no doubt however that the level of research in this book is very impressive and the parts dealing with the murder, and particularly the role of the doctors and Florence's hostile in laws, were compelling. It is a sad tale overall and the reader is left with the impression that the answer to the question "did she kill him?" is a pretty emphatic "no".
April 6, 2016
Undoubtedly a fascinating late Victorian murder trial, but I feel that this book takes this popular mini-genre a step too far. Firstly, I found the lengthy novelistic descriptive passages irritating. If you want to turn a real life case into a novel then do so (as was done successfully with 'A Pin to See the Peepshow) but if you're writing popular history, stick to the facts.
Secondly, this is another example of a book in severe need of a good editor. It's about 100 pages too long. The author's musings on the position of middle class women, their unhappy marriages and public attitudes to their sexual behaviour are interesting but repeated several times in the book. Thirdly, the trial itself lacks tension because of the lengthy and repetitive detail of all the medicines/poisons administered or not .
Since it's obvious from the start that the author doesn't think Florence Maybrick murdered her husband, the book would have been better titled 'Will they find her guilty?'.
Having said all that, it's not a bad read - especially when explaining the extraordinary range of semi-lethal medicines available to hypochondriac Victorians containing strychnine, arsenic, opium or cocaine.
Secondly, this is another example of a book in severe need of a good editor. It's about 100 pages too long. The author's musings on the position of middle class women, their unhappy marriages and public attitudes to their sexual behaviour are interesting but repeated several times in the book. Thirdly, the trial itself lacks tension because of the lengthy and repetitive detail of all the medicines/poisons administered or not .
Since it's obvious from the start that the author doesn't think Florence Maybrick murdered her husband, the book would have been better titled 'Will they find her guilty?'.
Having said all that, it's not a bad read - especially when explaining the extraordinary range of semi-lethal medicines available to hypochondriac Victorians containing strychnine, arsenic, opium or cocaine.
December 7, 2015
This story was satisfying in the way it was researched, and frustrating in that Florence is convicted based on her sexuality more than her guilt of murder. One would like to believe that in today's courts that a woman could not be convicted on such evidence. It seems to me there just wasn't enough proof to even establish that her husband James was murdered, let alone by Florence.
I think I would recommend this book for people who enjoy a historical research novel, and those who are passionate about women's issues and the progression of women's rights.
I think I would recommend this book for people who enjoy a historical research novel, and those who are passionate about women's issues and the progression of women's rights.
September 22, 2014
Florence Maybrick first came to my attention several years ago when the so called "Jack the Ripper Diary" was published as it was supposedly written by her husband James. Her sad story has been well researched and written by Kate Colquhoun. What I also enjoyed about this book was the descriptions she gave of life in Liverpool during the Victorian era.
December 18, 2016
I first came across the case of Florence Maybrick in 2008 when I read the publication of a diary supposedly belonging to her husband where it's alleged he was Jack the Ripper. This is the story of their marriage, James' death and Florence's subsequent arrest, trial and incarceration for his murder. It's a fascinating tale although I'm not entirely convinced that Florence was guilty.
January 17, 2015
Did she kill him? No, I don't believe she did. All those quack cures are obviously what killed him. Poor girl.
April 12, 2020
This was an interesting look into death and justice in the late-Victorian era.
James Maybrick, Liverpool cotton merchant, died of suspected arsenic poisoning in May 1889. His young American wife, Florence, was accused of his murder. But did she do it? Were their public (and private) arguments, her infidelity (not to mention his infideility - oh wait, this is the Victorian era, male infedility is totally OK), and various debts enough to warrant poisoning her husband? I won't give it away too much, but given the time period, I can't see how the verdict isn't obvious.
Le sigh.
This was well researched and interspersed with some interesting sections about the feminist agenda, forensics and scientific analysis, and some medicine. The descriptions of the city and all the trappings of middle-class life were a real asset. Unfortunately, the conjecture and questions, and the excessive fictionalisation of many parts - the swish of her skirts, the thudding of a heart - detracted from the portrayal of facts.
Laying out all those facts made the pace painful at times, especially once the trial began. It picked up a bit in the final chapters, which documented the imprisonment and remaining life of the characters, but the appeal process slowed things down once again. I'm not sure what could have been done to alleviate this slowness and complexity, because the finer details of the trial were key. But oh boy, were they confusing.
I found myself - like the judge, jury, reporters and probably everyone attending the trial - utterly muddled.
For this reason, I didn't do a good job of puzzling this one out: there was simply too much information, and too much of it was conflicting. And once the author introduced idea that an arsenic addiction could kill a victim when they simply stopped consuming arsenic, I felt that a conclusion had already been made: James Maybrick had been addicted to arsenic, possibly among a handful of other drugs and medicines of the age, and was on his steady way to killing himself anyway. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that doctors prescribed and withheld various medicines during the final week of his life.
Did his young wife have a hand in it? I don't think so, seeing as she had quite a bit to lose by his death . The trial was a long slog towards a predictable verdict, given the era; a verdict that hardly seemed to matter, really, given the above.
This was a good read - it introduced a lot of the attitudes and prejudices of the era, and the changing landscape, and the beginnings of a feminist movement - but it was tedious at times and I was actually quite glad when it was over. 3.5 stars, rounded down.
James Maybrick, Liverpool cotton merchant, died of suspected arsenic poisoning in May 1889. His young American wife, Florence, was accused of his murder. But did she do it? Were their public (and private) arguments, her infidelity (not to mention his infideility - oh wait, this is the Victorian era, male infedility is totally OK), and various debts enough to warrant poisoning her husband? I won't give it away too much, but given the time period, I can't see how the verdict isn't obvious.
Florence would be judged, then, not simply under the law but against complex ideals of womanhood[...]
Le sigh.
This was well researched and interspersed with some interesting sections about the feminist agenda, forensics and scientific analysis, and some medicine. The descriptions of the city and all the trappings of middle-class life were a real asset. Unfortunately, the conjecture and questions, and the excessive fictionalisation of many parts - the swish of her skirts, the thudding of a heart - detracted from the portrayal of facts.
Laying out all those facts made the pace painful at times, especially once the trial began. It picked up a bit in the final chapters, which documented the imprisonment and remaining life of the characters, but the appeal process slowed things down once again. I'm not sure what could have been done to alleviate this slowness and complexity, because the finer details of the trial were key. But oh boy, were they confusing.
I found myself - like the judge, jury, reporters and probably everyone attending the trial - utterly muddled.
Most reporters, though, struggled to keep abreast of the multiplying details of what foods or medicines were prepared, when and whether they were actually swallowed, trying to understand whether there was a clear relationship between these and the onset of the dead man's symptoms.
For this reason, I didn't do a good job of puzzling this one out: there was simply too much information, and too much of it was conflicting. And once the author introduced idea that an arsenic addiction could kill a victim when they simply stopped consuming arsenic, I felt that a conclusion had already been made: James Maybrick had been addicted to arsenic, possibly among a handful of other drugs and medicines of the age, and was on his steady way to killing himself anyway. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that doctors prescribed and withheld various medicines during the final week of his life.
Did his young wife have a hand in it? I don't think so, seeing as she had quite a bit to lose by his death . The trial was a long slog towards a predictable verdict, given the era; a verdict that hardly seemed to matter, really, given the above.
This was a good read - it introduced a lot of the attitudes and prejudices of the era, and the changing landscape, and the beginnings of a feminist movement - but it was tedious at times and I was actually quite glad when it was over. 3.5 stars, rounded down.
May 10, 2017
Aspects I Liked and/or Enjoyed:
~Vivid Descriptions: Though I’m not a reader that enjoys lots of description, the author described everything in such a detailed way that I had no problems visualizing the era (food and fashion seemed to be the most prominent) and the environment (the Battlecrease House was often described and the author included a map). I suppose it also helps that I’m a massive Downton Abbey fan
~Detailed Research: The author has clearly done a lot of research, there’s a huge amount of effort put into the book, with footnotes and references at the end, there’s also direct quotes from people (written in italics).
~The Feminist Agenda: Lets be clear about one thing, the reason Florence Maybrick is on trial in the first place is because of the time-period, Victorian society’s attitudes towards Adultery (which is still a problem in modern British society) and the civil and legal rights of Women (which at the time were pretty non-existent). This trial would never have occurred in modern society, regardless of whether she was guilty. It was pretty clear that Florence Maybrick was on trial for Adultery and not Attempted Murder.
Aspects I Had Problems With:
~Slow Plot: It took a long time to get into the flow of the plot and key elements, like Florence’s pregnancy and miscarriage, were not always clear. It took ages to get the trial stage, which was were I felt the novel had most of the momentum.
~Forgone Conclusion: In my opinion, James Maybrick’s arsenic addiction sort of made it a moot point, it didn’t matter if she killed him because he was going to kill himself anyway. As the author established, there was literally arsenic in everything during the Victorian era and very little technological ability to either improve/combat the situation or conduct conclusive testing. While I don’t think Florence Maybrick killed her husband, from my perspective she didn’t stand to gain anything from his death but would have gained a lot by keeping him alive, it was only a matter of time before James Maybrick’s death by arsenic occurred.
Overall, it’s a detailed and comprehensive read, however while I enjoy crime and mystery, I’m not a big fan of the true crime genre, which is generally more depressing (I read books to get away from reality, not to be reminded of it). However, I am happy to recommend it to either true crime enthusiasts or readers interested in gender studies.
~Vivid Descriptions: Though I’m not a reader that enjoys lots of description, the author described everything in such a detailed way that I had no problems visualizing the era (food and fashion seemed to be the most prominent) and the environment (the Battlecrease House was often described and the author included a map). I suppose it also helps that I’m a massive Downton Abbey fan
~Detailed Research: The author has clearly done a lot of research, there’s a huge amount of effort put into the book, with footnotes and references at the end, there’s also direct quotes from people (written in italics).
~The Feminist Agenda: Lets be clear about one thing, the reason Florence Maybrick is on trial in the first place is because of the time-period, Victorian society’s attitudes towards Adultery (which is still a problem in modern British society) and the civil and legal rights of Women (which at the time were pretty non-existent). This trial would never have occurred in modern society, regardless of whether she was guilty. It was pretty clear that Florence Maybrick was on trial for Adultery and not Attempted Murder.
Aspects I Had Problems With:
~Slow Plot: It took a long time to get into the flow of the plot and key elements, like Florence’s pregnancy and miscarriage, were not always clear. It took ages to get the trial stage, which was were I felt the novel had most of the momentum.
~Forgone Conclusion: In my opinion, James Maybrick’s arsenic addiction sort of made it a moot point, it didn’t matter if she killed him because he was going to kill himself anyway. As the author established, there was literally arsenic in everything during the Victorian era and very little technological ability to either improve/combat the situation or conduct conclusive testing. While I don’t think Florence Maybrick killed her husband, from my perspective she didn’t stand to gain anything from his death but would have gained a lot by keeping him alive, it was only a matter of time before James Maybrick’s death by arsenic occurred.
Overall, it’s a detailed and comprehensive read, however while I enjoy crime and mystery, I’m not a big fan of the true crime genre, which is generally more depressing (I read books to get away from reality, not to be reminded of it). However, I am happy to recommend it to either true crime enthusiasts or readers interested in gender studies.
June 17, 2019
This book angered me in multiple ways, some of them being a good anger...
The story is about a woman entangled in a bizarre murder case concerning her late husband during the Victorian Era of England. The book is written with all the facts laid out, from start to finish, with the inclusion of certain events before and after the case.
Here is where the book angered me in a good way: It is a sad story about how women were treated back in the Victorian Era, and the author does a good job of showing how laws and societal regulations gave women of the time a lot of hardships, even if they were from a more privileged class. It is angering to learn about Florence and how her life transpired knowing that she was given a really poor quality trial (let alone how she was treated by others around her before and after).
Here is where the book angered me in a bad way: The author writes a lot of the same points over and over. Which, yes, there are a finite amount of facts on this case so there is reason to mention certain facts multiple times, but the author of this book goes into long tangents about society and how people were living or treated during this time period and it gets repetitive and loooooong. There were certain parts of this book I kept daydreaming through and seeing how many pages I had left, just to see a glimpse of hope to get through them.
All in all, the book is a good read because the story ITSELF is a good read. The author writing this specific book did an okay job. I probably would have enjoyed another book about the same historical event, but, I choose this one. To be honest, some of the articles I Googled online while reading about this case had more concise and better storyline progression than this book, but again, I chose to finish it so who is to blame there?
The story is about a woman entangled in a bizarre murder case concerning her late husband during the Victorian Era of England. The book is written with all the facts laid out, from start to finish, with the inclusion of certain events before and after the case.
Here is where the book angered me in a good way: It is a sad story about how women were treated back in the Victorian Era, and the author does a good job of showing how laws and societal regulations gave women of the time a lot of hardships, even if they were from a more privileged class. It is angering to learn about Florence and how her life transpired knowing that she was given a really poor quality trial (let alone how she was treated by others around her before and after).
Here is where the book angered me in a bad way: The author writes a lot of the same points over and over. Which, yes, there are a finite amount of facts on this case so there is reason to mention certain facts multiple times, but the author of this book goes into long tangents about society and how people were living or treated during this time period and it gets repetitive and loooooong. There were certain parts of this book I kept daydreaming through and seeing how many pages I had left, just to see a glimpse of hope to get through them.
All in all, the book is a good read because the story ITSELF is a good read. The author writing this specific book did an okay job. I probably would have enjoyed another book about the same historical event, but, I choose this one. To be honest, some of the articles I Googled online while reading about this case had more concise and better storyline progression than this book, but again, I chose to finish it so who is to blame there?
June 5, 2021
A little-known case of husband-murder now, Florence Maybrick’s story turns out to be a fascinating discussion of what reasonable doubt looks like. Florence was an American woman married to a much older British cotton merchant at a time when continental marriages were a fashion among American girls. Unfortunately, James Maybrick also had a penchant for self-medicating with the dangerous medicines of his day, which included strychnine, arsenic, and opium. When a lingering undiagnosed illness—maybe a gastric ulcer, maybe gastritis?—killed him in 1889, he left two suspicious brothers, a house littered with pills, packets, and potions, and a wife who had initiated an affair and perhaps a divorce. Kate Colquhon does a painstaking job of reconstructing the trial and the evidence against Florence, weaving in changing conceptions of right behavior for women and how they were expressed in novels and the legal system. I won’t spoil the outcome of Maybrick’s case, but it turned on the state of scientific evidence in the 1880s, as well as how judges and juries allowed hidebound ideas about womanhood to influence their evaluation of evidence. Colquhon suggests that her case became “a cipher both for those grappling towards a different way of being [for women] and for conservatives who believed that her alleged crime struck not simply at a single man but at the prevailing hierarchies that kept men on top” (235). Substitute race for gender and you can see why the death penalty can never be a just punishment.
April 21, 2019
This book bored me a bit at the beginning perhaps because of its unusual form - it is neither a proper made-up novel with a plot and dialogues and lyrical descriptions of some sort, nor it is a brief and concise report of historial facts. It picked up a bit later and I carried on as the trial of Florence Maybrick and her fate drew me in. It is not the lightest of the reads and certainly not a beach read. Lots of legalese and formulaic language in this book so if you're not into law-based book, you may struggle.
I particularly enjoyed finding out more about Victorians, their everyday life, mentality, morals, emancipation of women and... their obsession with arsenic, which nota bene seemed to surround them on a daily basis. "Paris green" shade and the toxic Victorian dresses were my favourite bits of discovered information so I researched more on the web about it. I also enjoyed reading about the historical past of Liverpool, which I take interest in.
3.5 star from me. I liked it. "I really liked it" seems a bit too much.
I particularly enjoyed finding out more about Victorians, their everyday life, mentality, morals, emancipation of women and... their obsession with arsenic, which nota bene seemed to surround them on a daily basis. "Paris green" shade and the toxic Victorian dresses were my favourite bits of discovered information so I researched more on the web about it. I also enjoyed reading about the historical past of Liverpool, which I take interest in.
3.5 star from me. I liked it. "I really liked it" seems a bit too much.
January 13, 2018
The kind of historical true crime book I love, written like a novel, with plenty of outside information pulled in to give context to the crime and the reactions. Very easy read, although the situation itself is horrifying - Florence's defense made a good case for the fact that James Maybrick didn't even die of arsenic poisoning but Victorian science was so awful that couldn't really be properly established, the jury couldn't understand it anyway, and the judge (who shortly thereafter was declared insane) gave a summation which indicated that Florence's proven adultery meant that she probably was also a murderer, because we all know that you can't put anything past slutty ladies. Crazy. Horrifying! But a gripping read.
July 15, 2017
There is a huge amount of interesting information in this book but somehow I found myself getting bored by the extraneous details (seagulls crying overhead, the weather, swishing skirts, clanging locks etc etc) and skipping ahead to see what happened next.
The book gives a good insight into a middle class woman's status in the 1880s as well as the justice system at that time from a defendant's perspective.
This is the second book I have read by this author; I preferred the first one - Mr Briggs Hat.
The book gives a good insight into a middle class woman's status in the 1880s as well as the justice system at that time from a defendant's perspective.
This is the second book I have read by this author; I preferred the first one - Mr Briggs Hat.
May 12, 2019
Similar to an O.J. Simpson trial of its time, this is a compelling read sure to please fans of historical non-fiction, crime and courtroom novels, and British Victorian sociopolitical feminist theory. A bit dry at times, often containing too much well-researched historical context, and theories on social commentary. Written at a very high level, sometimes more textbook than novel, the language is nonetheless elevated and inspired. It left me curious about the author’s other work, Murder in the First-Class Carriage.
June 18, 2018
The abondence of arsenic in daily Victorian life along with the lack of appeals after a mistrial make me glad I live in this modern world.
Did Florence kill her husband? All of the evidence was circumstantial. The judge told the jury she was guilty in both his opening statement and his summing up before sending them to deliberation.
The author does a good job of laying out the details of Florence's background, her marriage, and how her in-laws treated her.
Did Florence kill her husband? All of the evidence was circumstantial. The judge told the jury she was guilty in both his opening statement and his summing up before sending them to deliberation.
The author does a good job of laying out the details of Florence's background, her marriage, and how her in-laws treated her.
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