The Murder of James Dove and the Hanging in Chains of Michal Morey#
June, 1736. Arreton. A woodcutter and his grandson set off to Newport to buy Necessaries. But they don’t return home to their cottage, a place called Sullens, that night. Nor the next…
Although the original court records that later dealt with the case were lost, an account does exist, albeit, in brief, in volume LIII of the Political State of Great Britain, p535-6:
“Extract of a Letter from Hampshire.
At the Assizes at Winchester yesterday Se’enight, an old Fellow of the Isle of Wight, was condemned for the Murder of his Grandson, about 14 Years of Age. He had bred him up from his Cradle; and the Child having some way or other disobliged him, he took him out with him one Morning about Six o’Clock in June last, on Pretence of going to a Market-town about seven Miles from him, to buy Necessaries, and carried him into a Wood, and murdered him with a Bill-hook, which he had taken with him for that Purpose. There was no Confession made by the Villain, nor was the Body found till October, when it could only be known by the Hat, Breeches, Stockings, and Shoes, which the Child had on when he went from Home, and which were found with the Body, together with the Bill-hook and the old Man’s Gloves. He had cut off his Head, and mangled his Body, and put the whole into two Wallets, which he also carried with him. What cruel Circumstances might attend the Execution of this horrid Fact, is at present only known to God and the Murderer. The old Fellow did not return home till about a Week after the Fact was committed; and being asked after the Child, and not giving a satisfactory Answer, he was taken up on Suspicion; and upon searching a Chest belonging to him, his bloody Shirt ( which was also produced in Court) was found wrapt up in a clean Shirt; upon which he was committed at the Summer Assizes, and now tried, convicted, and condemn’d, and is to be hanged this Day at Winchester, but in Chains in the Isle of Wight.”
Micah Morey was accordingly executed on Saturday the 19th of March, but without making any particular Confession. He was hung in chains according to old statute under a law that required bodies of those hanged for murder to be either dissected or hung in chains, a scene captured in a skipping rhyme claimed to have been sung by Arreton schoolchildren which I first came across in a locally published pamphlet from 1981, For Rooks and Ravens: The Execution of Michal Morey, Kenneth S. Phillips, IW Museum Publication No. 4, which I recall as follows:
Michal Morey’s dead,
For cutting off his grandson’s head,
He is hung on Arreton Down
For rooks and ravens to peck down.
Rooks and Ravens, the pamphlet, provides a history of the tale, and draws heavily on Arreton Church Parish records and the Overseer of the Poor Accounts Book for Arreton Parish, 1736, held by the IW Country Record Office / Archive, for piecing together the local administrative detail surrounding the case. My aim is not to replicate the content and nature of that pamphlet here — copies can still be found in Island charity shops and second hand bookshops — but rather to collate some of the historical notes that Kenneth Phillips, also of Apse Heath, thought too "tedious to quote ... at length" in his publication.
The original statute regarding hanging in chains was integrated into the “modern” statute book by way of the Offences against the Person Act 1828
Offences against the Person Act 1828
An Act for consolidating and amending the Statutes in England relative to Offences against the Person. [27th June 1828.] [In The statutes of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.]
WHEREAS it is expedient to repeal various Statutes now in force in that Part of the United Kingdom called England, relative to Offences against the Person, in order that the Provisions contained in those Statutes may be enacted and consolidated into this Act; Be it therefore enacted by the King’s most Excellent Majesty, by and with the Advice and Consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the Authority of the same, That so much of the Great Charter made in the Ninth Year of the Reign of King Henry the Third, as relates to Inquisitions of Life or Member; and so much of a Statute made in the Fifty-second year of the same Reign, [Murder Act 1267. 52 H.3. c.25.] as relates to murder; …
…
IV. And be it enacted, That every Person convicted of Murder shall be executed according to Law on the Day next but One after that on which the Sentence shall be passed, unless the same shall happen to be Sunday, and in that Case on the Monday following; and the Body of every Murderer shall, after Execution, either be dissected or hung in Chains, as to the Court shall seem meet; and Sentence shall be pronounced immediately after the Conviction of every Murderer, unless the Court shall seem reasonable Cause for postponing the same; and such Sentence shall not only the usual Judgment of Death, but also the Time hereby appointed for the Execution thereof, and that the Body of the Offender shall be dissected or hung in Chains, whichsoever of the Two the Court shall order: Provided always, that after such Sentence shall have been pronounced, it shall be lawful for the Court or Judge to stay the Execution thereof, if such Court or Judge shall so think fit.
The practice of hanging in chains was repealed in 1834:
An Act to Abolish the Practice of hanging Bodies of Criminals in Chains, 1834
4 & 5 W IV. Bodies of Criminals Cap. 26
XXVI. An Act to abolish the Practice of hanging Bodies of Criminals in Chains [25th July 1834 .]
WHEREAS by an Act passed in the Ninth Year of the Reign of His late Majesty King George the Fourth, intituled An Act for consolidating and amending the Statutes in England relating to Offences against the Person [9 G. 4 c. 31], it is amongst other Things enacted, that the Body of every Person convicted of Murder shall after Execution either be dissected or hung in Chains, as to the Court which tried the Offender shall seem meet, and that the Sentence to be pronounced by the Court shall express that the Body of the Offender shall be dissected or hung in Chains, whichever of the Two the Court shall order: And whereas by a certain Act passed in the Tenth Year of the same Reign, intituled An Act for consolidating and amending the Statutes, in Ireland relating to Offences against the Person [10 G. 4. c. 34.] a like Provision is made with respect to Persons convicted of Murder in Ireland: And whereas by a certain Act made and passed in the Second and Third Year of the Reign of His present Majesty, intituled An Act for regulating Schools of Anatomy [2 & 3 G. 4 c. 75.] so much of the Provision of the said recited Act made and passed in the Ninth Year of the Reign of His said late Majesty King George the Fourth as authorized the Court to direct that the Body of a Person convicted of Murder should after Execution be dissected is repealed, and instead thereof it was enacted, that in every Case of Conviction of any Prisoner for Murder the Court before which such Prisoner shall have been tried shall direct such Prisoner either to be hung in Chains or to be buried within the Precincts of the Prison in which such Prisoner shall have been confined after Conviction, as to such Court should seem meet; and that the Sentence to be pronounced by the Court should express that the Body of such Prisoner shall be hung in Chains or buried within the Precincts of the Prison, whichever of the Two the Court should order: And whereas it is expedient to amend the said recited Acts :’ Be it therefore enacted by the King’s most Excellent Majesty, by and with the Advice and Consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the Authority of the same, [So much of recited Acts as authorises the dissecting or hanging in Chains certain Criminals after Execution repealed.] That so much of the said recited Act made and passed in the Ninth Year of the Reign of His Majesty King George the Fourth as authorizes the Court to direct that the Body of a Person convicted of Murder should after Execution be hung in Chains, and also so much of the said recited Act made and passed in the Tenth Year of the same Reign as authorizes the Court to direct that the Body of a Person convicted of Murder should after Execution be dissected or hung in Chains, and also so much of the said recited Act made and passed in the Second and Third Year of the Reign of His present Majesty as provides that in every Case of Conviction of any Prisoner for Murder the Court shall direct such Prisoner to be hung in Chains, shall be and the same is hereby repealed.
My original telling of the tale… It has moved on somewhat as the story has seeped into the bones and I’ve turned up additional colour from historical reminiscences in the press from more than a hundred years ago…
Micah Morey’s Tale
Michal Morey’s dead,
For cutting off his grandson’s head,
He is hung on Arreton Down
For rooks and ravens to peck down.
If you turn left out of Robin Hill, past the Hare and Hounds pub, you’ll see Burnt House Lane on the right, running down the valley towards Newport.
Back in the early-1700s, just on the hillside to the left of there, lived a woodcutter, Micah — or, Michal — Morey, his son and daughter in law, her sister, and James Dove, his grandson.
There is a Morey’s building and timber merchants on the island to this day: you’ll see their yards just coming into Sandown, from Brading, in Ryde, and in Newport. I don’t know if they are related.
James’s mother, and Michal’s daughter, Mary, had died giving birth to him fourteen years before; his father, Thomas Dove, originally of Brading, had abandoned him and remarried elsewhere on the island.
Early one morning in June, 1736, shortly after sunrise, six a.m. or so, Michal Morey and his teenage grandson left their cottage at Sullens, setting off “on Pretence of going to a Market-town about seven Miles from him, to buy Necessaries”, as an old report has it. Between them, they carried some old leather panniers.
Shortly after, Michal must have returned home alone, but then he too disappeared. A week later, Michal returned; “being asked after the Child, he could not give a satisfactory Answer. He was taken up on Suspicion; and upon searching a Chest belonging to him, his bloody Shirt (which was later produced in Court) was found wrapt up in a clean Shirt”. He was placed in the care of his son, presumably under some sort of house arrest, and a hue and cry raised to search for James.
Towards the end of July, Michal absconded again. Three days later, he was found again, a small reward paid for his return. Two weeks after that, he was sent to the Big Island, to the mainland, and imprisoned in Winchester jail on suspicion of murder.
But there was still no sign of James.
Walking through nearby autumnal woods that October, another Arreton parishioner noticed… what? That’s odd. Could there be hidden valuables in that old leather bag that seems half buried over there? Whoo, hoo, this could be my lucky day… But whatever he saw horrified him, and he made haste to summon help.
A jury of witnesses, including the Coroner and the Bailiff, made their way back to the woods. Two half buried satchels were revealed, and opened. An arm here, a leg there, a bill hook for chopping wood, and, was that a head?
The body was unrecognisable, but a description at least of the clothes that still wrapped the putrefying body parts was made.
A gravedigger was summoned — I don’t know if he’d ever seen worse — a coffin made and the body quickly interred in the nearby Arreton church graveyard.
The widowed mother of a neighbouring farmer, who had perhaps at times fashioned clothes for her neighbour’s motherless child, had the clothes described to her, but she couldn’t be certain they were James’.
And so it was that the next day, James’ body was dug up a for a second time. From his Hat, Breeches, Stockings, and Shoes, he was duly identified. He was reburied for a second, or should that be, a third?, time.
The fate of Michal, still in Winchester gaol, was now surely settled; but it was not until February of the next year, 1737, that the great and the good of Arreton Parish met in the vestry of the church there, and grimly determined to pay for Michal’s trial on a count of murder.
At the Winchester Assizes starting on Wednesday, March 2nd, Michal stood trial. He made no confession. “What cruel Circumstances might have attended the Execution of th[at] horrid Fact [of murder], [was] only known to God and the Murderer”. Michal was sentenced not just to death, but also to hanging in chains thereafter.
There were no football matches on Saturdays in those days, but there were public hangings. A good a spectacle as any you could expect.
And so it was that Michal was executed on Saturday, 19 March, 1737, at Gallows Hill, Winchester. Hung by the neck until he was dead.
But the story doesn’t end there. Only part of the sentence had been fulfilled.
Michal’s body was brought back to the island, where it was placed in a tightly fitting metal gibbet cage, made to measure by a local blacksmith.
His gibbeted body was then hung from a tall wooden pole, most likely spiked with nails at the bottom to prevent it from being cut down, on top of an ancient burial mound that overlooks Arreton valley.
The mound is there to this day: we know it as Michal Morey’s mound: if you turn left out of the Hare and Hounds, then left again onto the Down’s road, you’ll see it there to the right, just a few hundred yards down the road. If you’re coming along the Down’s road from Ryde, it’s on the left, a few hundred yards before the T-junction at the end.
Michal’s body was never found - murderers would never be buried in consecrated ground. There is a skull on display in the Hare and Hounds that some claim to be Michal’s, but whilst it is from the mound that bears his name, it dates from much older times. A memory of the gibbet can also be found in the same pub: one of the beams, claimed to be the hewn from the gibbet itself, is carved with the date “1737”. Look up in the room at the back, and you’ll see it.
Local folk traveling the Down’s road to this day still mention seeing a ghostly figure walking nearby the mound, but whether it’s the ghost of Michal, or James, or the ancients from the burial mound itself, who can say?
So the next time you visit Robin Hill, listen out for the sound of woodsmen working round about; for the sound of chains clanking against who knows what in the distance; for the call of the birds circling there still.
And bring to mind the playground rhyme learned by so many of Arreton’s primary school children over the years:
Michal Morey’s dead,
For cutting off his grandson’s head,
He is hung on Arreton Down
For rooks and ravens to peck down.
The tale was recalled to mind on the Island a hundred and fifty years later following another murder trial. The report is notable in two other main ways: firstly, it is presented as a piece of recollected oral history heard thirty years previously; and secondly, it includes a version of the rhyme:
Michael Morey he is dead, For he cut off his grandson’s head; So he hung on Arreton Down, Where he shall stay till he drops down.
“Michael Morey he is dead”, March 1861 (1830s)
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0000170/18610309/003/0003 Isle of Wight Observer - Saturday 09 March 1861
“MURDER IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.”
This fearful heading, which has gene the round of the newspapers, is now happily used up; and a jury has falsified it, for Lacey is convicted of manslaughter only. In endeavouring, as Journalists, faithfully to discharge our duty to the public, we carefully abstained from pandering to that vicious taste which revels in deeds of blood: and at the same time excluded from our columns the adjectives “horrible,” “atrocious,” and such like, we have yet to learn what other qualities are embodied in the noun “murder” itself. Lies, so greedily used by others, to try to make a bad case worse, and to garnish poverty of description, have been entirely rejected by us, for we are too jealous of the reputation of our native Isle to cast suck foul garbage at her fair escutcheon; and have left those who, prompted by ignorance or cupidity, were disposed so to do, to do it. We will, however, tell these ignorant murder-traders, that the Isle of Wight can yet boast that it is not upon record that one of her sons was ever convicted of murder. As to the Sandown tragedy of last year, it was committed by a Leeds soldier who might have been quartered in Canterbury or Dublin just likely as where be was; and even he was a maniac, and never tried.
There is certainly a tradition of a murder committed the Island, which may be interesting to our readers. We had it more than 30 years ago from our grandmother, then 77 years of age, and she had it from her grandmother as a tradition, —but this at once goes 150 years back. The tradition is this:
“Michael Morey he is dead,
For he cut off his grandson’s head;
So he hung on Arreton Down,
Where he shall stay till he drops down.”
It is a well-known fact, that formerly it was the custom to hang and gibbet murderers as near as convenient to the spot where the murder was committed; so that it may be such a tragedy was enacted, though we can find no record of it. Still, if it was, the event must be almost as old as that of the Reformation; therefore, we maintain that the Island is not terribly bad after all.
We hold that it would be presumptuous in the highest degree for us for a moment to comment upon the trial of LACEY; inasmuch as we are firmly of opinion that, for purity and capacity, there is no body of men in the whole world who can compare with the Judges of England; Counsel, too, often the butt of the vulgar, are distinguished for their honour; and our admiration for the honesty, truth, and inflexibility of our countrymen when empannelled as a Jury almost amounts to worship. In a word, trial by Judge and Jury approaches in our beloved country the nearest to perfection of any institution emanating from the mind of man. With these remarks, we close—let us hope for ever—the subject of Murder in the Isle of Wight.
Of the cases referred to, the first related to the manslaughter of an elderly woman by her husband with a drink problem and lingering jealousy issues:
An Aside: Murder on the Isle of Wight, 1861
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0000399/18610309/043/0008 Westmorland Gazette - Saturday 09 March 1861
THE MURDER IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.
At the Winchester assizes, on Tuesday, Henry Lacey was indicted for the wilful murder of his wife, Jane Lacey, at St. Helens, in the Isle of Wight, on the 17th February. The deceased was upwards of seventy years of age. the prisoner was somewhat her junior. Mr. Ollard, a surgeon at Ryde, said that when he saw the deceased the face was much bruised, the eyes were both blackened, and blood matted over the right temple; a small wound over the right eyebrow, and the left cheek much bruised and swollen; there were bruises on the chest and abrasions on the legs and knees. There were no such marks on the previous Friday. Those injuries were not likely to have occurred from fall downstairs. He did not think the eyes would have been blackened, and there would have been more bruises about the body, and most likely some bones would have been broken. He thought there had been several blows as if from the fist, or a strong blow from the open hand. The witness also proved that for a week after the woman’s death the prisoner was suffering from delirium tremens, and that he was drunk the time of her death.
Susan Wilday, on being examined, said: I am niece to Mrs. Lacey. The prisoner behaved pretty well to his wife. On the Saturday evening the prisoner and I returned from Newport. I went and saw my aunt. Lacey came up and went lo bed in the same bed as my aunt. I then went to my bedroom, went to bed and to sleep. In about an hour and a half I was awoke. I heard a noise, a rattling like, down the stairs. I got out of bed to see what it was, and then saw my aunt was down the stairs,— down about four stairs. Lacey was at the top of the stairs talking to himself. I went down stairs, and found aunt doubled like. I picked her up, but she never spoke. I put her back into bed. The prisoner was walking up and down the room. He then threw her out of bed; he pulled her out of the bed towards him; he dashed her down the floor; he slapped her on each side of her head as she was lying on the on the floor. My aunt said, “Oh, Susan, I am dying.” I put her into bed again. Her eye was bleeding. I fetched some hot water and bathed her eye. The prisoner walked and down the room again. I then went into my own room again. When the prisoner threw my aunt out of bed I called out “Murder!” through the window. The prisoner pulled me back from the window. My aunt was not dead when I left her. I did not go to sleep again. In about an hour the prisoner came to my room and said “Susan, come and see if you can make your aunt speak she won’t speak to me.” I went to her and spoke, but she made no answer. There was a rattling noise in her throat. I said to the prisoner, “Oh, uncle, my aunt is dying; I sure she is.” He then went down stairs. He came back, and bade me wipe up the blood that was on the floor.
George Catchpoll said— I went to the prisoner’s on the Friday after the murder. He said, “I’ll tell you all about it. About seven years ago, I caught Mrs. Lacey in bed with another man, and I have been jealous of her ever since. On the Saturday night I was a little fresh. I asked my wife if the doctor had been. She said no: two men had been to see her, and then I thought of old times. I pulled her out of bed, and gave her three slaps, one on the eye, which caused her to have a black eye, and one on the nose, which made it bleed.” He put her into bed again, and then went into Susan’s bed, which he had done for some time, as it was Mrs. Lacey’s wish. He afterwards wanted Susan to go for the doctor, but she said, “Let her lie till daylight, she is not worse than usual.” He found his wife dead in the morning. On the Friday afternoon I went into his cell. He said he expected Susan would have her hearing next day, and said. “If you see her, whisper in her ear, and tell her not to say anything against me; not to say I pulled her aunt out of bed, and beat her about. If she keeps her mouth shut there will be 150l. for her.” I put no questions to him.
The jury found the prisoner guilty of manslaughter, and he was sentenced to six years penal servitude.
The second case refers to a soldier who killed his wife and children and then unsuccessfully attempted to kill himself, a horrific affair that attracted national attention. The following report suggests that the soldier had considered firing the battery, which puts me in mind of the story of Gunner Haines that I first heard in song from from Gaz Brookfield.
The Murder of a Family, May 1860
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0000366/18600526/011/0003 Newcastle Guardian and Tyne Mercury - Saturday 26 May 1860
THE MURDER OF A FAMILY IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT
We stated in our second edition last week that Sergeant Whitworth, of the Royal Artillery, stationed at Sandown Fort, Isle of Wight, had murdered his wife and children on Friday, and afterwards made an unsuccessful attempt to commit suicide by cutting his throat. Further particulars are now given, and it appears that six children were butchered. Whitworth’s quarters presented a terrible appearance after the murder. The floor of a room used as office was covered with bloody footprints of naked feet and feet with stockings on, two of the footprints being those of children of different ages, and others those of a man, the latter in some places with the mark the stocking on the foot plainly impressed on the floor, and in other parts with the naked foot, distinctly marked on the boarded flooring. These footprints crossed and recrossed each ether, and led into the entrance to the kitchen, the only chance of escape from the house, but there took back an abrupt turn towards the stairs leading to a sleeping-room above. On these stairs the footprints were thicker and more intermingled with blood. From the marks in the rooms below and on the stairs, it would appear that some of the children had escaped from the room, and had been pursued by the murderer and driven up stairs again, where he completed his horrible work. The floor of the room up stairs was covered with blood, papers, and articles of children’s clothing, and also an overturned bedchamber candlestick, and from this floor were taken the razor and cutlass with which the murders were perpetrated. At the left side of the room stand two bedsteads in a line with each other. On the outer edge of that nearest the door lay Mrs. Whitworth, dressed, with the exception of her boots, and her throat gashed in a horrible manner, and showing the vertebrae of the neck. The wounds of the mother and her six children were all of the same shocking character. An infant lay across the mother’s lap, and had been placed at the breast, in which position the mother had evidently fallen asleep, and been deprived of life before she awoke. On this same bed were the bodies of the second girl and eldest boy, which had both been thrown on the bed after being murdered. On the bed nearest the window lay the eldest girl and another one, both of whose countenance bore the impress of the deepest horror. They had their stockings on, and the soles of them were saturated with blood. At the head of the same bed lay a little boy, about two years old.The marks on some of the pillows would appear to indicate that the murderer used them to stifle his victims’ cries while he deprived them of life. A back door led from the house along the foot of the earthen rampart, where there was a piece of garden which had been tended with great care. Many rumours have been current in the village concerning remarks which are stated to have fallen from the children for some days previous to the murder, and also respecting the murderer’s intention to have fired the magazine in the fort; but nothing was adduced at the inquest with reference to any of these rumours, with the exception that the key of the magazine was found in the room with the bodies, and that the powder in the magazine was all piled together in its centre. The most unaccountable part of the whole of this wretched affair is that in this small block of buildings, with only thirty-five paces between them, seven out of sixteen human beings should have been murdered without any cry or noise of any kind being heard.
At the inquest on Saturday, Captain Manners stated that he considered Whitworth a very eccentric person. He appeared to labour under extraordinary delusions, and had often been in trouble about being permitted to remain in the fort until the completion of the time necessary for a pension. On Friday he rushed on parade, and throwing himself on his knees before Captain Robinson, exclaimed: “For God’s sake, sir, save me!” He then gave Captain Robinson his watch, an envelope with some papers, and some money, and said: “He’s used me dreadfully; he’s held a pistol at my head, and swore he’d shoot me if I didn’t cut my throat;” pulling down at the same time the collar of his coat and showing his throat covered with blood. He then added: “There’s awful work down there pray go down.” He was sent to the hospital, walking there himself. When in the hospital he asked for a cool bandage to be placed on his forehead, which was done. He then said: “Ah! my poor wife has put many a bandage to my forehead. She was good wife and a good woman. I nursed her for a fortnight once, and she nursed me, and I’ve nursed the children. We did all for each other, and were an affectionate family.” He continued talking in a rambling manner about ships coming to attack the fort, and asked if the fort was condemned, &c.—Another witness stated that he met Whitworth while he was running to the barracks. Whitworth said, “Horrid! They’ve murdered my six children and my poor wife; and I’ve been watching out two or three nights, and there’s a man standing down there with two pistols, one in each hand.” He then added, “They’re all dead.” Dr. Leeson, who examined the bodies, said: “The woman’s windpipe was completely severed on both sides, together with the large vessels and nerves. I consider the wounds to have been made while she slept, as there were no cuts on her hands nor any signs of a resistance being made. Three children were in the same bed, all with their throats cut in the same manner as the mother’s, but with jagged wounds, from the edge of the razor having been taken off in cutting into the woman’s throat so deeply. One of the children lay in a doubled up position, as though caused by agony, or the body being thrown on the bed after death. At the woman’s feet lay a girl about eleven years of age, whose throat had evidently been hacked at. All the large vessels were separated. On the woman’s thigh lay an infant with a severe cut from side to side of the throat, extending from behind the angle of the lower jaw upwards to the joint. The wound was in witness’s opinion caused by the child being held up and the cutlass drawn across. The eldest child on this bed had blood on the soles her naked feet. On the bed near the window one girl was lying on her side as if thrown there, or having thrown herself there in despair. A severe cut, several times repeated, had severed the windpipe. She had stockings on, saturated with blood, and in the room down stairs were footmarks of the size of the feet and distinctly showing the web of the stockings. In the same bed were the bodies of another girl and a boy. It appeared from the pillows that they had been used to stifle the children’s cries while the wounds were inflicted. The wounds were not clean cut wounds, but had evidently been cut and haggled at. The wounds on some of tke children might have been inflicted by either the cutlass or razor. The wounds described were in each case the cause of death, and it is not probable that any of them could be self-inflicted. Among the footprints on the stairs, and the room down stairs were those of an adult. Whitworth’s were of peculiar formation, having a bunion on the ball of each foot, and a protuberance somewhat unnatural on each side the feet. The footprints of the naked foot on the boarding of the floor down stairs exactly corresponded, and gave the peculiar conformation of the foot distinctly. In those footprints of the adult which showed the web of the stockings they also exactly agreed with Whitworth’s socks, which were taken off his feet at the hospital, one of them having a circular web at the heel and the other a straight one.”
Several papers were found in the room where the bodies lay. One of these was copy of a letter to Captain Rogan, of the Royal Artillery, signed by Whitworth, and stating that, having been informed that he would be removed from Sandown Fort next month, he respectfully requested that his application might be forwarded to the authorities to be allowed to remain at Sandown until the expiration of his time for pension— about nine months. The other document was written on a piece paper about six inches long by four wide, with a lead pencil. On the mantel was a pencil, just above the place where the paper was found. This last paper was covered with blood, and from that cause was partly illegible. The words that could be made out ran thus:
Sandown Fort, 1860, 17 May, 1860.
Infern plot murdered Sergeant Whitworth’s wife and six children. Lieut. ———, R. E.
Dr. ——— the rascall under a cloak as a friend, Shocking work Captain Corporal ——— ——— Captain ———.
The jury returned a verdict of “Wilful murder” against Whitworth, accompanied by an expression of opinion that at the time the murders were committed he was of unsound mind. Whitworth is said to be a native of Leeds.
I provide a more comprehensive set of notes relating to the murder at Sandham Fort elsewhere.
The Michael Morey story was also recalled a few years later again in the Isle of Wight Times of Thursday, April 10th, 1879, p5, following the discovery of human remains on Arreton Down:
ARRETON. MICHAEL MOREY’S BONES.— In the year 1735, the 9th of King George II, Michal Morey, a woodman, was hung and gibbeted on the side of Arreton Down for the murder of his grandson, who had strayed away to the place where he was at work, and provoked him to anger. Tradition said he hid the body and placed a Bible under the head in order to prevent his being haunted by the ghost. Some years after, the bones having slipped from the gibbet, were collected and buried near the site. Last week some man digging there found the skull, with teeth perfect, and other bones.
The report appears to have prompted a poetic response that appeared three weeks later in the Isle of Wight Observer of Saturday, May 3rd, 1879:
A LEGEND OF ARRETON DOWN
[A short time ago some men, digging on the down, found the skull with teeth perfect, amid other bones, supposed to be the remains of Micah Morey, a woodman, who was hung there for the murder of his grandson in the year 1735.]
Old Micah Morey, I’ve heard say,
His grandson’s head cut off one day;
For some time after that, ‘tis said
He wandered in the fields, and fed
On beans and peas, ‘till he was caught,
And for his crime to justice brought.
He was the murderer proved to be,
For which he paid the penalty.
Upon a gibbet he was slung,
Where many days the body hung,
Which surely did the folks affright
Who had to pass that way at night.
At length some who more daring were
Said it no longer should hang there,
So cut it down, and hid from view
The corpse, where none beside them knew.
His ghost, howe’er. I’ve heard some say,
Oit scared them when they pass’d that way.
His bones which long were hid from sight,
Have lately been exposed to light,
From their long resting place exhumed,
And rudely elsewhere are entombed.
His skull a stranger brought away,
Him to remind, at this late day,
That Micah Morey for his crime
Swung on the hill in olden time.
In glass case ‘tis exposed by him
And prized as if a precious gem.
The house in which the murderer dwelt
He set on fire, and when rebuilt
Twas “Burnt House” call’d – the name to-day,
Though six score years have pass’d away.J. DORE.
Just below the Downs Road, in Arreton Chalk Pit, a small cave have taken on a role in the legend that still surrounded Michal Morey, as the West Sussex Gazette of Thursday, January 10th, 1935, p9, reported:
ISLE OF WIGHT NOTES
BOYS’ CAVE PERIL
A constable had to cut steps in the cliff face with pick and shovel before two boys imprisoned in “Michal Moreys Cave,” on Arreton Down, could be released. The cave is one in which Michal Morey took refuge after murdering has grandson. Eventually he was caught and hanged, and buried at the spot. Five boys set out to explore and picnic in the cave, arriving about 11 am. Two managed to clamber into the cave, but heavy rain made the chalk so slippery that descent was impossible without assistance. They were marooned in the cave for over four hours, the other boys trying unsuccessfully to throw them food.
A more comprehensive discussion of the legend of the cave appeared in the Isle of Wight County Press of Saturday 29 January 1916:
A correspondent asks, January, 1916
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0001960/19160129/061/0005 Isle of Wight County Press - Saturday 29 January 1916
OCCASIONAL JOTTINGS.
[By STYLUS!]
…
A correspondent asks me if I can tell him the history of what is known as “Micah Morey’s Cave,” in a chalk-pit on Arreton Down? I don’t know about “history,” but I have heard a good deal concerning the fables which have gathered around the mysterious “Micah” and his retreat. No doubt there was such a person as “Micah Morey,” and it seems to be equally certain that for a considerable period he dwelt in a lonesome cave on Arreton Down, but why he went there and what eventually happened to him are matters rather of legend than of authentic history. There is an element of poetry and romance about some legends of the Wight, as Mr. Percy Stone has shown us in the inimitable collection he published a few years since. The “Micah Morey” story has no such qualities to commend it, but as it appears from my correspondent’s letter that some interest attaches to it, perhaps I may be allowed briefly to relate what I have read, or heard, concerning one of the legends. It is to the effect that 180 years ago ago an old man named Micah Morey and his grandson were living in a house in what is now known Burnt-house lane, bordering on Pan and St. George’s Downs. The grandchild was the inheritor of a certain amount of money, and it is alleged that in a “paroxysm of greed” the old man murdered his grandson, and then set fire to the house. Another tenement built on the site is still pointed out as “Burnt-house.” After the commission of the crime Micah fled and hid himself in a cave on Arreton Down, the cavity effectually concealing him, as it was some distance above the “floor” of the pit. After a time his presence became known to some sympathetic peasants, who, mistaking him for an innocent peasant, supplied him with food, which they fastened to a rope lowered by the fugitive. It would appear that the hue-and-cry after him was maintained, and there is a tradition that his whereabouts was at length discovered by a party of soldiers, who by some means enticed him to the mouth of the cave and then fired and killed him. His body was then taken, so the story goes, and hanged on a gibbet on the Down, “where it remained frightening by its creaking those unfortunate people who had to cross the Down at night. At last some who were bolder than the rest unhooked the gibbet and buried Micah’s remains where they themselves only knew.” The gibbet was placed on an ancient harrow, near the cave and close to the road-side, and the eminence was afterwards locally known as “Micah Morey’s hump.” Such is the story of Micah Morey and his cave as I have been able to gather it, my information being principally derived from a small sheet printed some 35 years ago and signed “W. Cole, jun.” The cave is still a familiar object to all who pass by. Recently a friend of mine managed to clamber up and explore it, and what struck him most were the names and initials which he discovered cut into the chalk walls of the cave, showing that many visitors had been drawn to the spot by the weird traditions associated with it. Of course, Micah has been “celebrated” in verse, one of the poets who found “inspiration” in this direction being the late Mr. John Dore, of Newport, whom many of my older readers will remember, and who achieved considerable local celebrity “for the readiness”, (to quote a contemporary critic) “with which he renders into eloquent rhyme eccentricities of our enchanted and beloved Isle.” A volume of his verses was published some years since, and although they may not reach a very high poetic standard, I think John Dore is deserving of inclusion in the anthology of Island poetry in which my friend, Mr. Charles Arnell, is interesting himself just now. It is not surprising to hear that Micah Morey has left his ghost behind him! In his poem Mr. Dore, after remarking that the place of Micah’s burial is unknown, says—
“His ghost, however, I’ve heard some say,
Oft scares them when thee pass that way.”
An Arreton “granfer” once assured me that, on the anniversary of the “Cave” man’s death, his ghost revisits his old haunt on Arreton Down. I asked him if he had ever seen it. He didn’t know as he had, but he’d heard tell of it when he was a boy. “Don’t you believe it?” he asked me. “Not quite,” was my response. In my earl professional days I was living in a part of the country where there is no lack of haunted houses, and I have often been started on the track of reputed ghosts, but though I have had many uncanny experiences, I have never yet set eyes on a spook. I should rather like to, and if I was sure of encountering one at “Micah Morey’s Cave,” I would go there to-day. What a “Jotting” it would make!
Another version of the rhyme, February 1916
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0001960/19160205/086/0008 Isle of Wight County Press - Saturday 05 February 1916
MICAH MOREY’S CAVE.
To the Editor of the Isle of Wight County Press.
Sir,—My brothers and I in our school days often used to visit Arreton marl-pit and climb up to the cave, which, however, we always call Michael Morey’s Cave. I have never met with the printed sheet signed W. Cole, jun., nor with Mr. John Dore’s poem on the subject, referred to by “Stylus,” nor have I succeeded in gleaning any further particulars about Michael Morey than those embodied in the following rhyme, which, as a boy, I often heard repeated:—
“Michael Morey, he is dead
For cutting off his grandson’s head;
He was hanged on Arreton Down
And there he’ll hang till he drops down.”
We used to be told that Michael Morey was buried under the barrow on the down near the Cave, which was known to us as “Micheel Morey’s mound.” We were further told that if any one was bold enough to visit this mound at midnight, walk round it 12 times, and then call Michael Morey three times his ghost would appear. Between 30 and 40 years ago a skull was dug out of the side of the marl-pit near the cave and was thought by some to be that of Michael Morey. It came into the possession of the late Mr. Philip Deighton, who had it on show for some time at the Crown inn, Newport. I have referred to Morey as Michael, not Micah, the Christian name given him by “Stylus.” I always heard him referred to as Michael, though this may possibly be a mistake. Micah is certainly a Christian name not uncommmon in the Isle of Wight. No systematic collection of Island folk lore has ever been attempted, and those acquainted with the ora! traditions and superstitious beliefs and practices of the Island people are fast passing away. It would assist in preserving them for some future collector if your readers would communicate to your columns such items of Island folk lore as they may be acquainted with before it is too late.—Yours faithfully, Wm. Self Weeks, Westwood, Clitheroe.
Considerable interest generated, February 1916
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0001960/19160205/037/0005 Isle of Wight County Press - Saturday 05 February 1916
OCCASIONAL JOTTINGS
[By STYLUS!]
Considerable interest appears to have been excited by my note last week on “Micah Morey’s Cave,” and I have received a number of letters on the subject. Mr. Alfred J. Mew, of High-street, Shanklin, writes: “I remember as a boy hearing from my grandfather the story of Micah Morey substantially the same as given by you in your most interesting note in the County Press, and almost every lad in the village (I was then living at Wootton) knew the jingle commemorative of the tragic deed. Of course, as you remark, such an occurrence was bound to produce a ghost, and I recollect hearing some nervous people declare that they had seen it near the ‘hump’ on Arreton Down where the gibbet is stated to have been erected. May I add a word of appreciation of the manner in which you are able, week after week, to interest a vast number of readers of the County Press, one of the most interested amongst them being always —yours very truly.” Many thanks, Mr. Mew. Kind words are always welcome. Whether historical or legendary, probably no one knows more about the “Micah Morey” story than does Mr. W. Cole, M.P.S., of High-street, Cowes, who some 35 years ago wrote a paper on the subject, and from this I quoted in my last week’s jotting. An ardent antiquarian, Mr. Cole is possessor of a remarkable collection of curios, amongst his treasures being a human skull which, with other remains, was unearthed on Arreton Down some 38 years ago. By many people, the remains were thought to be those of Micah Morey, but this hypothesis was dismissed by better-informed persons, who, as the skeleton was discovered in an ancient barrow, or sepulchral mound, on the Down, arrived at the conclusion that the osseous remains were those of an Anglo-Saxon chieftain, dating back to a remote antiquity. The skull is stated to be remarkably large, and, when first discovered, the teeth were intact. The relic was purchased by the late Mr. P. Deighton, of Newport; at his death it passed into the possession of the late Mr. F. Smith, who will be remembered as a highly-skilled taxidermist, of Newport; and it ultimately became the property of Mr. Cole, in whose keeping it remains. Let me now quote from an interesting letter with which Mr. Cole has this week favoured me. He writes: “In your last week’s “Occasional Jottings”— which I always read with avidity— I was startled by reading what seemed strangely familiar to me, and when I arrived at ‘W. Cole, Jun.,’ it became perfectly clear to me that you were resurrecting my old Micah Morey, whose supposed skull is still in my possession, holding the place of honour amongst the thousand and one curios which I have collected since its advent. I bought the skull soon after leaving the Newport Diocesan Grammar School, where the Conservative and Unionist Club is now located, and I still retain the impression of tae joy I experienced, as a young collector, at acquiring such a unique treasure. Looking back, I can remember a Flower Show at East Cowes, where I exhibited ‘Old Micah,’ and I had the honour of presenting my humble sheet to Queen Victoria, the present Kaiser’s father (then the Crown Prince Frederick, on a visit to Osborne), and other Royalties, all of whom were greatly interested in it. Many years afterwards I compared what I may call my skull with some in the Hartley Museum, which were found in tumuli on the South Downs, and the similarity was so great as to suggest the probability that the skull discovered on Arreton Down is of the same character and date as the others, namely, Celtic, circa 400 B.C. Pardon me for taking up your time, but I felt that I must send you these few notes. Was it the shade of old Micah that impelled me?” Let me assure Mr. Cole that no apology was needed. I am only too glad to have drawn from him a communication of so much interest, and I am hoping to hear from him again. In trying days like those in which we are now living, it is a pleasant relief occasionally to get out of the beaten track of current happenings into the quiet by-paths of old-time history and tradition.
Since the above quote was written a letter has reached me from Miss Katharine Hearn, of Staplers, Newport, whose antiquarian and historical studies and researches have enabled her to throw Light on our old Island story. In this letter she speaks of the interest with which she read what has appeared in this column concerning Micah (or Michael) Morey and his Cave, and she proceeds to give an account of her own. By some particulars it differs from what has been previously published on the subject, bat as I said last week, quite a number of legends I have gathered around the mysterious “Cave” man of Arreton Down. Miss Hearn states that in the year 1735 Micah Morey (or Michael, as she calls him) was a woodman living in a cottage between Pan Woods and Coach-lane, the former being a copse at that time growing by the side of Pan Down, while the latter was a narrow lane by the copse at Great East Standen and leading to Arreton Down. It was the old Couch-road to Ryde. “After the murder of his grandson,” my correspondent proceeds, “Michael Morey was arrested, and, I believe, tried and condemned at Newport Town-hall (the former building), the Court there having then the power to exercise the utmost rigour of the law. He was hanged on Arreton Down, within sight of the wood where the murder was committed, this being the usual course of procedure at that time. The tumulus on which the gibbet was erected no doubt marked the burial-place of some unknown hero of a remote age. The woodwork of the scaffold was taken down, and one beam, marked 1735, can still be seen in the tap-room of the ‘Hare and Hounds’ at Arreton Down-end, The ironwork of the gibbet became the property of my great-grandfather, Mr. Wiiliam Jolliffe, who lived at Heasley. Part of the ironwork was made into a pipe-rack by the village blacksmith and used for the long pipes, or ‘churchwardens,’ when they were reburnt at the kiln on Arreton Down. The pipe-rack is among my antiques, and generally forms part of my ‘travelling show’ when I give a ‘talk.’ And now for your ghost, Mr. ‘Stylus’. As you say, the story has produced its ghost, an it arose in this way. The cave was used by smugglers for secreting their kegs of brandy, which were removed there from ketches coming in at Wootton Bridge or even in the creeks of the Medina, the kegs being lowered through a hole at the top of the cave. The smugglers were evidently afraid of visitors, and so they invented the ghost scare as a sort of protection for their spirits!” A very good story! At the time to which this note refers smuggling was extensively carried on all round the coast. I happen to know that Miss Hearn has made some researches on the subject, and I am sure she could construct a very romantic story as “Smuggling in the Olden Days,” or, as an alternative title, “Calling ‘Spirits’ from the Vasty Deep!”
Some further letters, February, 1916
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0001960/19160212/003/0001 Isle of Wight County Press - Saturday 12 February 1916
OCCASIONAL JOTTINGS
[By STYLUS!]
…
I have received some further letters relating to old Micah (or Michael) Morey, who seems to be creating as much interest now as he did when the hue-and-cry was after him 180 years sgo. Dr. John L. Whitehead, J.P., of Ventnor, writes: “May I supply one fact to the otherwise somewhat legendary story that has been weaved around Morey, of Arreton Down fame. Entered in the Arreton parish register, under date A.D. 1736, in an ‘order to the churchwardens and overseers to present Michael Morey for the murder of his grandson,’ and it is added that the accused ‘was found guilty and hung in chains to a gibbet erected on a barrow, close to the highway, over Arreton Down, and known to this day as Morey’s Hump.’” The doctor proceeds to remark: “An interesting query arises here — in April, 1815, Mr. Cooke and other gentlemen, on opening a tumulus on Arreton Down, found a skeleton lying on its back, only two feet from the ground surface. Were the remains those of the individual in question?” As Mr. W. Cole, of Cowen, has told us, a similar discovery was made in 1378, and some people thought that the remains then found were those of “Old Micah,” but experts concluded that they dated back to Celtic times. The late Mr. Roach Smith, F.S.A., one of the most distinguished antiquarians of his time, was of opinion that Arreton Down holds many secrets of the kind.
I am glad to learn that Sir Frederick Black, whose highly responsible position in connection with the all-important matter of munitions enables him to realise more than most of us do what these anxious days mean in the way of stress and strain, finds “a pleasant relief in occasionally getting out of the beaten track of current happenings into the quiet by-paths of old-time history and tradition,” such as are opened up by notes in this column from time to time. He writes: “I am thinking a» this moment of your ‘Trattle’ lore and of ‘Michsel Morey.’ There is much tradition in favour of ‘Michael’ as oppsed to ‘Micah,’ and unless there is contemporary documentary evidence to the contrary, the ‘Michael’ tradition—a form handed on from one generation to another—holds the field. It was regarded as something of a feat for smaller boys— though not difficult for the older ones -to climb to the cave in what Maxwell Gray in ‘The Reproach of Annesley’ deseribes as ‘a large deserted chalk quarry, its steep cliff sides looking ghostlike.’ It would be interesting to know whether there is any evidence of a hole in the roof of the cave which might have extended to the level of the Down and served the purpose of the smugglers referred to by Miss Hearn. Maxwell Gray’s old Arden sexton, ‘Raysh Squire,’ at the shearing feast tells the story of smugglers hidden in a tomb whose morning uprising made early labourers going to their work think the Last Day was come!”
Recalled to memory, February 1916
https://britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/viewer/bl/0001960/19160226/041/0005 Isle of Wight County Press - Saturday 26 February 1916
Until reminded of it by a Sandown correspondent (H.E.J.), it had quite escaped my memory that there is a reference to Michael Morey in the Island Quarterly, that brilliantly conducted local magazine which, like many other fair things of earth, bloomed only to fade, though its memory lives in one goodly volume. The “Morey” reference is contained in an article on “Arreton” by the late Mr. W. T. Stratton, who possessed rare stores of local historical and archaeological knowledge, and it is to be regretted that we have not a fuller record of them. I happen to know that he had in contemplation a number of articles on churches, and it is fortunate that he completed four papers which are amongst the most valuable of the contents of the Island Quarterly. These related to the Churches of Arreton, Brading, Carisbrooke, and Newchurch, his articles on which, while full of interest to the ordinary reader, arrested attention in many learned quarters. He had others in view when the curtain fell. In the “Arreton” article some curious extracts from the parish records are given. In 1732 appears an item for “Gunpowder at the induction of Mr. Box, the new vicar.” I must leave my readers to find out, if they can, for what purpose was needed at the new vicar’s induction. I quite expect to hear it suggested that perhaps Mr. Box was a Canon! The Michael Morey reference occurs in the same records, and the effect of it has been already given in a note by Dr. Whitehead. This is what Mr. Stratton says on the subject: “In 1736, February 13th, appears an order to churchwardens and overseers ‘to prosecute Michael Morey at the next assize for the supposed murder of James Dore, his grandson.’ This was done so effectually that the old man (who there can be no was not of sane mind) was found guilty and hung in chains to a gibbet erected on a barrow close to the highway over Arreton Down, and still known as Morey’s Hump.” This entry in the parochial chronicles of Arreton may be taken as furnishing the documentary evidence which, as Sir Frederick Black says, is necessary to determine the question whether Morey’s Christian name was “Micah” or “Michael”. Once and for all the momentous issue is now settled. “Michael” has it!
John Dore Long Stone Mottistone legend https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=coo.31924066628953&seq=152&q1=”john+dore”