"LOSING all control of themselves when found guilty, Siddle and Lowson conducted themselves in a most extraordinary and abominable manner, leaving room for no pity to be extended to them," reported The Northern Echo.
"Foiled in their assertion of innocence, they gave vent to the most fearful imprecations against the Deity and the Court. The scene made all present shudder, Siddle calling forth the most blasphemous exclamations."
The condemned cell at Durham jail was already occupied by William Smith, of Darlington, recently convicted of murdering his wife in Stockton, and so Siddle and Lowson were housed nearby. The date for their execution was set for May 19, the traditional three Sundays away from the verdict.
Yet despite their foul language, and the foul nature of their crime, doubts were soon setting in.
The Darlington and Stockton Times reported: "The violent behaviour of the convicted prisoners will confirm the belief that they are ruffians of a very coarse type, and just the men to do the deed for which they are condemned to suffer.
"The finding of the jury, however, is a strange one and those who read the evidence closely will have some difficulty in discovering the grounds of which they have decided. From the first, the case has been shrouded in mystery and the only evidence obtainable was circumstantial.
"And so weak did some of the links in the chain appear that no surprise would have been felt had the jury hesitated to pronounce a verdict. There is no evidence as to who participated in the attack, who struck the fatal blows, yet the jury have sought out one man as innocent and sent two to the gallows."
The day after the verdict, the colliery district was up in arms. West Auckland held the first "Indignation Meeting"; 1,000 gathered at Willington, 600 at Bishop Auckland; Cockfield Fell was full for an open-air meeting. All denounced the "weak and contradictory nature" of the evidence and "condemned the action of the court".
The Northern Echo's sister newspaper, the Evening Echo, printed a purported interview with the freed man, Joseph Hodgson, in which he claimed to have seen Lowson and Siddle stone Sgt Smith. But the interview was a hoax. Hodgson was keeping his own counsel; he had seen nothing and now said nothing. The Echo's name quickly became mud and its reporters were threatened.
Gradually, through letters from prison, Siddle's case became known. He proclaimed his innocence, saying that he had tried to protect his sister's husband, Lowson, who had become a father for the third time while in custody.
Such was the profound excitement in the Durham coalfield that, with just one day to go, the Home Secretary, Sir William Vernon Harcourt, stayed the execution and sent a counsel, Mr Cliffe, to Darlington to review the case.
The first witness Mr Cliffe heard in the Kings Head Hotel was a new one, Edward Wilkinson, an elderly coffee-shop owner from Middlesbrough.
He claimed that "four days after the murder, a man with a haggard and haunted look stole into his coffee shop and in an anxious, hoarse accent asked what was being done in regard to the Butterknowle murder.
"The man's conduct was suspicious and he said that for three nights he had slept behind hedges and haystacks. Mr Wilkinson allowed him to go away, but communicated with Middlesbrough police, who pointed out that no man implicated in the murder was known to be at large and there was nothing to justify action on their part."
More sensation! But then it emerged that Wilkinson was a fantasist who sent regular letters to every monarch in Europe. In 1883, he had testified against an Irishman accused of a bombing in Liverpool. He claimed the Irishman had been in his coffee shop in Middlesbrough...
A far more believable twist occurred on May 20, when it was rumoured that Lowson had done the decent thing and exonerated Siddle. The Home Secretary confirmed the rumour by pardoning Siddle on May 22.
It was a move that was practically unprecedented: of the 180 people sentenced to hang in Durham in the previous 70 years, 100 had been executed and only two, in 1832, had received a free pardon like Siddle.
It was yet another sensation. Because Siddle had been fined the previous year for assaulting Sgt Smith, everyone had assumed he was guilty. But he had gone free.
Now Lowson named Hodgson, the baby of the trio, whom everyone assumed had been led astray, as the perpetrator.
"I am not the man that started with him (Sgt Smith) first," wrote Lowson.
"Hodgson is him that started first. They cannot hurt him now. He is right enough if they do destroy my body."
And they were determined to do so. Lowson saw his wife, Jane and children, including the baby, for the last time on May 24.
"The prisoner could not forbear exhibiting symptoms of the depression which the knowledge of his rapidly approaching doom has inspired in him, as he lifted up his smiling and unconscious little ones and kissed them again and again," said the Echo.
On May 26, executioner Joseph Berry arrived on the afternoon train at Durham having just seen off the Boston poisoner, Mary Lefley, at Lincoln. He was mobbed as he walked through the streets, one member of the crowd asking him if there would be a mishap.
"No, I hope not," replied Berry, "and no baby business. I hung a woman this morning and she cried and shrieked just as if she was going to be murdered!"
Lowson was already going through agonies in his cell.
"Although to all appearance wishful to become a brave hero and face death with impunity, he is downcast and occasionally trembles somewhat violently, more especially when he is dressing himself, knowing that tomorrow morning he will dress for the last time on this earth," said the Echo.
Lowson was 25, powerfully built and 5ft 7in tall. He had been married five years, worked at Copley Colliery and, "like many of his class", was a keen gambler. He was an eldest son, his mother having died when he was 14.
"A few years ago his father, Robert, died under remarkable circumstances," reported the Echo.
"He had got out of bed one night to get a drink and by mistake swallowed a quantity of acquofortis which he had in a cupboard. The effect of the poison was to some extent neutralised by the appliances of a medical man, who was at once in attendance, but the organs of the stomach were so weakened and impaired by it, that a short time afterwards he was choked by a piece of meat sticking in his throat."
Lowson awoke at 6am on May 27 and took a good breakfast. At 7.45am "the harsh clang of the passing bell reverberated through the morning air, striking to the very soul of those within hearing".
He was brought out of his cell at 7.55am and pinioned by the executioner.
"Amid a silence, unbroken save by the tolling of the passing bell, the party proceeded upon their mournful journey, their footsteps sounding painfully distinct as they walked with slow and measured tread along the gloomy corridor," reported the Echo.
"He walked with a firm and determined step, and seemed to have made up his mind to meet his fate without a murmur.
"There was something awful and impressive in the solemnity of the occasion. The scene was one which a beholder can never forget. It was sad to contemplate that a young man just arrived at manhood's estate - a vigorous and healthy man - should be put to a violent and ignominious death.
"Into the open air the procession passed. There in the middle of the gaol yard stood the grim scaffold, with the rope dangling from the beam.
"On reaching the scaffold the culprit immediately placed himself in position and his cool, resolute bearing surprised all present. The executioner quickly adjusted the leg straps. As the white cap was placed over his face he said, in a calm voice: 'I wish to say that Hodgson struck the first blow and then I helped him. I hope that the country and the Crown will look after Siddle and see him safe home again.'
"The executioner immediately pulled the lever and the unhappy man was launched into eternity. The length of drop was eight feet, death being instantaneous."
An hour later, Lowson's body was cut down, placed in a plain coffin and taken inside the prison for an inquest before burial. The Echo's reporter was present.
"The face wore a perfectly calm, even smiling, expression and, but for being of a somewhat darkened hue, presented no appearance of his having died anything but a natural death," he wrote.
"On the shirt neck being unfastened and turned down slightly by one of the jurymen, a narrow black indentation round the neck of the corpse where the fatal noose had been adjusted was all that indicated that death had been of a violent nature."
Post Script: Ten years later, William Siddle died in Sedgefield Asylum, aged 35. After being pardoned he worked at West Auckland Colliery.
"Latterly he suffered considerably from a severe attack of influenza which so affected his mental condition as to necessitate his removal to the asylum where he died on Wednesday morning," said the Echo.
He left a widow and family. We know not what became of the others in the story.
* Thanks to Len Teasdale and Million Makepeace.
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