Raped on the Railway

SOLDIERS CHARGED WITH OUTRAGING A YOUNG LADY

At Scarborough, William McH…, private of the 1st York and Lancaster Regiment, and John William P…, gunner in the Royal Artillery, Scarborough Barracks, were charged with outraging Beatrice O…, aged 19, who resides at Gladstone Terrace, Bishop Street, Hull. The prosecutrix, who is a respectable-looking young lady, said that in company with her companion, Florence M… she came from Hull to Scarborough on Saturday, with an excursion. On the South Sands the prisoners spoke to them, and offered to show them round the town. They told prisoners their train went at ten minutes to ten. Prisoners said they had plenty of time, but when they got to the station the train had gone. Prisoners then said they would find them lodgings for the night. They took them on the North Sands, and when prosecutrix protested that they could not get lodgings that way, the prisoner Palmer said they were to trust him. He had sisters of his own, and would see no wrong came to prosecutrix and her friend. At Scalby Mills Hotel they called up the landlord, but he said he could not accommodate them. It was now midnight. After leaving the hotel they went up the cliffs in the direction of the barracks. Prosecutrix heard her friend, who was with McH… screaming, and asked Palmer what was the matter. Palmer, then said if she was not quiet he would throw her over the cliff top. Prosecutrix was terrified. Palmer next threw her on the ground, thrust one hand up her petticoats while, with the other he prevented her from rising and considerably hurt her breast. He parted her thighs and sought to ravish her. She struggled violently, screamed, and struck him in the face. Her clothing, was torn, her drawers were trailing on the ground and she wriggled about to her utmost, but despite her efforts, Palmer gained his purpose and succeeded in gaining complete intromission. Prosecutrix's friend, who had got away from McH… then ran past screaming. McH.. followed, and seeing Palmer had prosecutrix on the ground, he stopped, and he also outraged her despite her struggles, his enormous member lacerating her genital parts so as to cause her great pain. Then they left her crying and exhausted. When she reached the town she found her companion complaining to Sergeant N. She related what had taken place, and was examined by Dr. H.

Prosecutrix's companion confirmed the statement. Both denied that they had more than a glass of port wine with the soldiers. The soldiers went into several public-houses, but they did not.

After Dr. H. had described the condition in which he found the girl, T… a telegraph clerk, and the landlord of the Scalby Mills Hotel, who saw the parties, were both most emphatically of opinion that the men were quite sober.

Sergeant Normanton said that at half-past one in the morning he was in North Marine Road, when Florence M… came to him. Her hat was on one side, her hair down, her jacket torn, and she seemed in great trouble, beads of perspiration being on her face. The prosecutrix then came up. She was in a very exhausted condition, and her tie and collar looked as if someone had had her by the throat. She looked as if she had had a desperate struggle and was holding a pair of white drawers (here produced) which appeared to have been torn.

Inspector B… spoke to apprehending the prisoners at the Artillery Barracks. When he charged them they each replied, “I am not guilty,” and followed on by stating: “We were with two girls at Scalby Mills, but we were so drunk that we don't know where we left them or what occurred.”

Both prisoners said they were drunk, P… adding: “Or it would not have occurred.

Prisoners were committed to take their trial at the next York Assizes.

Mrs. Sinclair sat musing over this report and was wondering whether such shameful and intimate details would have been published about herself, had the affair in the train been proceeded with, when she was startled by a loud ring of the front-door bell and a moment later the servant appeared and announced, “Mr. John Sinclair.” Mrs. Sinclair sprang to her feet, and was about to tell the servant not to admit him, but before she could do so he had entered the room, having closely followed the servant.

“All right, my dear little sister-in-law,” he said in his rough coarse voice. “I was passing the door so I thought I would look in and see whether you had recovered from your — fatigue,” and he laid a marked stress on the last word.

The poor woman sank back on the sofa, and threw a frightened glance at the intruder. She felt sure from his tone that if she ordered him out of the house, he would have no compunction in making public the story of her flogging, and that it would be impossible to stop the scandal that would follow. Her version would not be believed, and every one would think that she had deserved the punishment for her immoral conduct.

For John Sinclair had the reputation of being a highly respectable and most virtuous man. He was the “baillie” of a small country town, and was noted for being particularly down upon any unfortunate street-walker, and any poor girl who had listened to the voice of a seducer, and had in consequence to “let out” the seams of her dress, might indeed see her deceiver punished as heavily as the law would permit, but would herself receive such a lecture as she would never forget on the shocking depravity of her conduct.

He was also President of a Society for the Prevention of Vice — a society which ignored all the cardinal sins except that of lust — and he was connected with half a dozen Purity Societies and Societies for the Repeal of the Contagious Diseases Acts, and various other cheerful institutions of the same sort.

Mrs. Sinclair, though she knew very little of him, as her husband had never greatly cared for his brother, had always mistrusted the man, and was of opinion that he was really no better than his neighbours, and indeed rather worse, because he was a hypocrite as well, but everybody believed that he really hated vice as much as he pretended to, and in Scotland he was looked upon as a pillar of morality, and quite a shining light to the nation at large. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Sinclair's estimate of him was correct, and he was a monster of vice. Many a poor girl had he seduced, and one or two of them had ventured to accuse him publicly, but of course they were not believed, and their charges were held to be only malevolent perjuries.

The sight of his sister-in-law's bottom had aroused his lust, and ever since then he had brooded over the possibility of “having” his brother's wife, and the more he thought of it the more feasible it appeared, for it must be recollected that he really believed she had allowed the painter to roger her, and was unaware that she had been raped.

Being (as he imagined) inclined to be a whore, she would perhaps be disposed to favour a big strapping fellow such as he was, and though his conduct to her would hardly prepossess her in his favour, she would remember that he had it in his power to blast her good name, and would give from fear what she would not from affection.

He therefore boldly determined to pay a visit to her house, and as he shrewdly guessed that she might refuse to see him, he had, by the timely use of half-a-crown, prevailed on the servant to show him up at once.

At the sight of him, the recollection of the horrible punishment she had undergone at the hands of this detested man, flashed across Mrs. Sinclair's mind, and when she remembered that he had seen and felt her bare backside, she blushed scarlet, and with difficulty-prevented herself from bursting into tears. He noticed her confusion, and thought he might turn it to good account.

“My dear Clara,” he began — presuming on his relationship to address her by her Christian name,” I owe you an apology. The fact is, I was carried away by my feelings, for you know I have very strong opinions on morality. But I see now I was wrong. If my brother chooses to go away to India and leave a pretty little wife behind him, a widow in everything but name — it is but likely that her natural passions will break out now and then, and she will throw herself into the arms of the first good-looking fellow she meets.

“I do not understand you, sir,” replied Mrs. Sinclair coldly. “You have intruded into my house in a most unwarrantable manner, and if I do not have you ejected it is only because I do not want to create a scandal, but I must beg that whilst you are here you will recollect who I am, and treat me with proper respect.”

“Oh, yes,” he replied with mock gravity, “and you might also treat me properly. You might remember that I am your husband's brother, and so like him that you might easily mistake me for him if you tried,” — and he accompanied this sentence with a satyric leer.

“Sir!” cried Mrs. Sinclair. “It is very evident that you mean to insult me, and that you take me for one of those loose women whose society you frequent though all the world thinks you a very moral man.”

“Well,” he replied angrily, “if I am a hypocrite I am not the only one. You are not so overchaste when you are alone with a man in a railway carriage, and as we are both hypocrites, and both like to have a little bit of kypher when we can get it without anybody knowing about it, we might just as well enjoy a bit together;” and he leered at her again.

“I will not stay to be insulted,” cried Mrs. Sinclair. “You do not know the truth, or I cannot believe that you would make such unjust statements. It is true that the man who was in the carriage with me did have me as you would call it, but it was against my will and consent, and I made as much resistance to him as I possibly could.”

“Even to the extent of pulling the alarm signal,” said her brother-in-law with a grin.

“I was unable to do so,” she replied, “but as I do not consider myself bound to account to you for my actions, I shall say no more.”

“At all events you might have informed the guard when the train stopped.”

“I am the best judge of my own actions,” she said coldly, “and if I did not choose to make a scandal that is my affair.”

He was silent for a moment, and then he rose from his chair, and held out his hand. She also rose, but did not attempt to take the proffered hand. He moved towards the door, and she followed him, but he suddenly turned, and catching her round the waist threw her on the sofa. She resisted desperately, but he was a powerfully-built man and he easily forced her down.

“You didn't mind being raped once, you little whore,” he hissed through his teeth, “and so I don't see why you should mind it twice, at all events I mean to have you.”

With one of his big hands he held her down, whilst with the other he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out a stiff standing tool of even larger proportions than that of the painter, and turning up her clothes, tried to separate her thighs which she pressed closely together. She did not scream, but she fought like a wild cat, and proved the truth of the saying that a man cannot put a sword in its sheath if the sheath keeps moving about. He did not start with the advantage that Brandon had, and great as his strength was he could not hold all her limbs at once and prevent her wriggling about.

Her underclothing was in a frightful state, the pink silk petticoat she had put on, being torn in several places, and her clean white drawers nearly wrenched from the strings that attached them to her waist.

The sight and odour of this underlinen seemed to madden the ravisher, whose pent-up unchastity now assumed absolute dominion over him. He resembled more a heat-maddened bull, or a stallion in rut, with his erect, flaming member thrusting vainly away at the panting creature in his grasp. And valiantly did she resist, with never a cry, fearing the shameful scandal should a servant appear.

“You filthy beast, let me go,” she panted out in a hoarse whisper. “My husband will shoot you when he hears of this.”

She wriggled and squirmed about like a snake, to get away, her shapely black-stockinged legs and prettily slippered feet high in the air and, kicking against the heavy table near by and which served as a lever for her efforts, she tried to push his member away with her hand, brushing against the thick mass of hair that surrounded his organs, as she did so.

“You bitch,” he murmured, “let me put it in. No one will ever know. Good God! How I have longed for you! Have pity!

But she broke away from him, taking advantage of his temporary sentimentality, and ran quickly round the table, making for the door at the far end of the room. He was too sharp for her however, and, his shirt front all crumpled, the collar torn, waistcoat and trousers disarranged, the organ still in a state of violent turgescence, his eyes bloodshot and half-starting out of his head, he managed again to seize hold of her just as she had put out her hand to pull open the door. With a blasphemous oath, he flung both arms around her, and struggling, kicking, turning, twisting, he bore her back to the sofa.

“Let me go, you fiend, I hate you!” she said. “Let me go or I'll tear out your eyes.” But her strength was fast failing her, while determination to effect his purpose increased with her resistance, and made her only the more desirable. Already he had succeeded in putting one brawny knee between her thighs and with the other was furiously rubbing her genital parts; his face was pressed against hers and his hot breath scorched her like fire. She felt herself growing weaker, but the thought of this man's cruelty in the train — the terrible humiliation — the pain and exposure, gave her fresh strength.

The struggle had lasted long, but finally fate decided it in her favour. He had succeed in forcing her legs well apart, and she was protecting her slit with both hands. As he tried to insert his huge member, it encountered her fingers, and she, with the energy of desperation, grasped it in her hand and exerting all her strength, bent it.

With a terrible cry, he staggered to an easy chair, and fell into it nearly fainting. She did not realize what she had done, and did not know till afterwards that she had dislocated his penis — a rare but exceedingly painful accident, the few instances of which that are known to have occurred having invariably ended fatally.

She saw at once that she had no longer anything to fear from him. He had fallen into an armchair, with his huge body drawn up, and was moaning.

Her first instinct was to run away and leave him, but she was a tenderhearted woman, and though he had twice made an assault upon her, she could not leave him in agony.

She went quickly to her bed-room, and as rapidly as she could, smoothed her hair, and did away with all traces of the struggle in which she had participated. Then snatching a coverlet from the bed, she went down to the drawing-room, and threw it over his legs, thus hiding the wounded member.

She then called one of the servants and sent her for a doctor who lived close by. The doctor was an old friend of hers, and when he came, she met him in the hall, and in a few words explained what had occurred.

He examined Mr. Sinclair, and said he must be removed to the hospital at once, and calling his coachman they half led him, half carried him downstairs and placed him in the doctor's brougham.

At the hospital, they were unable to do anything for him except give injections of morphia to allay the intolerable pain. Several operations were tried by the Glasgow surgeons, who have the reputation of being amongst the cleverest in the world, but nothing was of any use, symptoms of gangrene soon manifested themselves, and in less than a week “holy Mr. Sinclair” was dead.

In England, a false regard for Mother Grundy hushes them up, but we know of many cases which are highly instructive. For instance, the Le Bien Public (May 22, 1878) gave the following account of a trial before the Court of Assizes (Department of Var, France):

The delicate operation that the learned Abelard was forced to suffer at the hands of Canon Fulbert is a well-known historical fact. Henri Latour, of Meones (Var) has narrowly escaped becoming the victim of a similar mutilation. This man had been acquainted for about a year with a young orphan girl, Claire Grimaud. She was a hard-working young girl. It was not long before she perceived that she was in the family way, and she informed her lover of it, who, she affirms, thereupon promised to marry her.

“But, on the 29'“ of last December, in the evening, Latour went to see Mlle Grimaud, whom he found alone, when she remarked:

“You have come at last.”

“The fact was he had been longer than usual without coming to visit her. After conversing for a few minutes they went to bed. The next morning, about eleven o'clock, Latour felt his mistress getting up; but she shortly came back, and again laid down by his side, but without entering the bed. Latour wanted to have connection with her; but he immediately experienced a violent pain and found himself deluged with blood. Nevertheless he had the strength to get up and to go to a doctor, who gave him prompt assistance.

“The medico-legal reports showed that the unfortunate man had undergone an attempt at castration, and it was for this crime that Claire Grimaud appeared on this count before the Assizes.

“After the reading of the indictment, and at the request of the prosecuting lawyer, the presiding judge ordered the case to be heard with closed doors. The public were only admitted at the judge's summing-up. The female prisoner maintained that, until the moment of her knowing Latour, her conduct had been irreproachable. She had always been faithful to him and had recently given birth to his child, a boy, while in prison. It was owing to the refusal of her lover to marry her and to recognize hey child, that, she stated: she gave way to a moment of indignation, which we may add, the poor devil of a wooer, for his part, must have found uncommonly smart.

“The jury returned a verdict of not guilty on the counts presented to them, and the Court therefore pronounced the acquittal of the accused, who was immediately set at liberty.

“It is to be hoped however, that this sentence will not encourage other young ladies to follow the example given them by the passionate, penis-hacking Southern woman.”

The fortitude displayed by some men who have received injury in their genital parts is simply amazing. Extenuating circumstances may of course, be pleaded in those cases where honest steady women or girls are set upon by force, and attempts made to mount them against their will and consent. The man has then only to thank himself for all he gets. But if a woman invites a man to visit her and then, out of revenge strikes a blow, as dastardly as unexpected, at his copulative organs, she should be birched on the bare arse in public twenty times a year, suffer excision of the clitoris and made to undergo the operation of ovariotomy. We cite a further case, showing that truth is stranger than any fiction.

“On the 1st of December. 1836, the Court of Assize had to judge one of those crimes which are so rare that but a bare mention is made of them in article 316 of the French penal code, and of which the XIIth century has transmitted to us a celebrated and lamentable example (1). But in this case it is not a man, but a young girl, who was able to conceive and to execute so atrocious a vengeance! It is not the jealousy of a rival, but the despair of an abandoned damsel, who came to resuscitate this sort of assassination forgotten by our new civilisation.

(1) Heloise and Abelard.

“Victoire Collet, of Thodure, attributed to Michel the paternity of two children to whom she had given birth, and Michel was seeking to contract other ties. After fruitless efforts to dissuade him from his purpose, Victoire, resigned to his marriage, was contented to ask for some pecuniary help. Michel, already affianced to another, and the banns about to be published, refused. Shortly afterwards he went to her place to claim some articles which she had taken possession of in order to oblige him to make her more frequent visits.

“He went there in the night of the 18th to 19th September, and the caresses of the discarded woman caused any misgivings of evil he may have harboured to vanish. Never had her reproaches been less bitter; Michel yielded. Victoire spoke of her legitimate fears of conception by reason of the already twice untimely results of their connection; and, when Michel, thinking of only sensual satisfaction, sought to press his favours home upon her, his mistress, armed with a knife, cut off his genital parts. Michel did not die from his wound within the next forty days. Victoire Collet who, at different times, had thrown out hints of her contemplated sinister vengeance, alleged in justification, that she had endeavoured to resist an attempt at rape.

“The argument presented to the Court, established pretty nearly the facts as related in the act of accusation, and revealed other intimate circumstances which made a deep impression upon the audience. The public was particularly affected when Michel being asked if he could not have taken hold of Victoire at the moment of her mutilating him, replied in a tone of the deepest emotion: Ah! sir, if I could have caught hold of her, we should not be here!.. I perhaps, but she would not!

“The prosecuting counsel maintained the indictment, not only with regard to the perpetration of the crime, but also as to its premeditation.

“M. Denantes, the defender of the accused, endeavoured to throw some interest on the case, by stigmatizing the cowardly abandonment by her seducer of this hot-blooded and revengeful female; and alleged in explanation and excuse for the crime the despair of the woman betrayed, and the anguish of the abandoned mother.

“He tried to invoke the protection of the legal-proviso offered in this case by article 325 of the penal code, to outraged modesty. Notwithstanding what the prosecuting counsel had said, he still alleged modesty of Victoire, in spite of her previous relations with Michel, the possibility of the outrage, and the right to resist it.

“With jesuistic quibble relative to the qualification of the offence, he maintained that there had been no physiological castration, therefore no castration in point of law. In fact, the mutilation does not interest the parts, the amputation of which constitutes castration. The crime imputed to Victoire must therefore be considered simply as cutting and wounding.

“The presiding judge summed up, the jury retired, and after an hour's deliberation, returned a verdict of guilty on the main issue, rejecting the plea of excuse, but admitting mitigating circumstances.

“The Court, on its part, maintained the qualification of the crime.

“In consequence thereof, Victoire Collet was sentenced, for the crime of castration, but with mitigating circumstances, to ten years' imprisonment.