The rocky and rural stretches of Northumberland are well-known. Nonetheless, a smattering of bygone-century fortifications and bastles (fortified farmhouses) still stand proudly among the vast and scenic landscapes, serving as stark reminders that this once-lawless frontier required resilient efforts by locals to protect themselves and their possessions from the Border Reivers. The history of England's northernmost county is brutal and fierce; it has been a lively arena of battles, depredations, and ongoing agitations.
The obvious explanation here is its closeness to the Scottish Borders, which, strangely, is a country of spectacular beauty, far distant – one would imagine – from scenes of intense and dramatic slaughter.
The Battle of Otterburn, fought in 1388 between the House of Douglas and the English Percys, was one such occurrence. Several chroniclers have detailed the battle's progress, yet none of the stories are specific enough in their topographical allusions to pinpoint the exact site of the conflict, while most agree that the combat took place west of Otterburn.
More than 500 years later, the community of Otterburn, named after the Otter Burn that runs through it, would be subjected to such a traumatic event that it would be mercilessly propelled into the thankful arms of the world's print press. Even now, the confluence of mystery and murder has an enduring power, and the events of the evening of January 6, 1931 in quaint Otterburn continue to stoke discussion. Furthermore, the terrible narrative of Evelyn Foster has lingered on in the thoughts of the amiable and attentive Northumbrian inhabitants, and beyond, thanks to the final spoken words of a man seemingly unconnected to the community.
Foster was a prominent family name in rural Northumberland in the early 1930s. Joseph Foster was born in Haltwhistle, near Hexham, in the county of Northumberland in 1874. Following their marriage on February 10, 1900, he met Margaret, who would later become Foster. Soon after the marriage, the Foster family grew, with first-born John being immediately followed by Evelyn, who was born on November 20, 1901. Dorothy Edith and Margaret Elizabeth did not join the Foster family until 1909 and 1911, respectively, when they were already a well-known family unit at the heart of Otterburn's close-knit community.
The family elected to live in the 'Kennels,' a big stone-built mansion to the west of the settlement.
Such a name might imply a past link with dogs, albeit this is unverified. Joseph Foster had the house renovated into a single-family home, likely to accommodate his large family. The Foster family business, a garage from where Joseph was the operator of a small bus and taxi company and where he would do repairs as a qualified motor engineer, was just across the street from the house. Joseph Foster was an important part of keeping the community moving by offering services to Newcastle and Hexham and repairing the motors of those fortunate enough to possess a car.
With his business growing, Joseph needed help, which he found in the shape of Evelyn, his second-born. She had not enjoyed school but had a strong understanding of mechanical procedures; after graduating, she went to work for her father's company, initially serving the fuel pumps and gaining valuable 'unofficial' driving experience on the quiet Northumbrian roads and tracks, where she would disturb no more than a flock of birds or the occasional crossing farm animal.
Evelyn's legal age to drive coincided with a surge in the popularity of cab travel, and with all areas of the business thriving, her father quickly handed her complete responsibility for the taxi service. Evelyn began to buy additional automobiles as the company grew, in order to fulfill the increased demand. Locals were growing more adventurous and socially conscious, prepared to seek out new experiences farther afield — monotonous whist-drives at village halls were being routinely replaced with journeys to Newcastle's picture houses and theaters.
Evelyn's favorite automobile was a Hudson Super Six, which she had purchased for the princely price of £200 in 1930. She'd taken numerous trips on the Hudson before, and there was no reason to believe that the one she took on January 6th would be her last. Cecil Johnstone, the bus driver, and Tommy Rutherford, the conductor, arrived at Otterburn shortly before half past six o'clock in the evening as part of the regular service from Hexham. As they neared the final stop at the Foster garage, three people remained on board. Esther Murray was one of them, and she was on her way to Cottonshopeburnfoot, a little hamlet in adjacent Redesdale.
Evelyn drove Mrs Murray to her destination and then returned to Otterburn after dropping her off.
She spotted a car stopped and then a man going across the road trying to flag her down as she neared Elishaw Road Ends. He stated that he had been in Jedburgh, on the Scottish Border, and that he had missed the bus to Newcastle from there. He explained to Evelyn that a parked automobile on the side of the road had offered him a ride to Elishaw Road Ends, from whence he could take a bus from Otterburn to Newcastle.
Evelyn informed the guy that the bus to Newcastle had already departed, but that she could drive him to Otterburn, where he might be able to arrange a ride to Ponteland, from whence he could catch another bus to Newcastle. Evelyn agreed with the guy on the short ride into the village that if he couldn't get a ride in the village, she would pick him up at the bridge and drive him to Ponteland herself. She parked outside the Kennels, and the guy proceeded into the village looking for a ride, while Evelyn went into the house to tell her mother Margaret about the tale, as well as to figure out how much she should charge the man if she ends up driving him to Ponteland. She had previously given a price of roughly £2, but she was concerned that this was too much, so she asked her father for clarification. Margaret Foster, on the other hand, was less concerned about the travel expense and more anxious about her daughter transporting an unknown guy across the dark and steamy moors.
She questioned Evelyn about the man's seeming decorum, which Evelyn reassuringly assured her was'very respectable and gentlemanly like.' She then drove to the gas station to fill the car in preparation for the prospective adventure with the mystery man. Meanwhile, Joseph Foster had calculated the cost of the voyage, which came to £1 16 shillings.
Margaret, Evelyn's younger sister, had joined the family discussion by now and recommended that if Evelyn was going to accompany the guy, she should bring family friend George Philipson with her, if only to reassure the family. Evelyn took a torch and left the home, going out into the cold and icy nighttime, agreeing that the instruction was acceptable. She did, however, travel alone; unlike her sister's suggestion, George Philipson was not requested to join her. What transpired next is a matter of conjecture, but what follows is entirely based on Evelyn's testimony as it was later relayed to police.
It appears that the mystery man at the center of this case was unable to organize a transportation, so he met Evelyn at the Percy Arms bridge, as planned. After that, the two left the area and traveled for Ponteland. They would never get there, instead making it as far as Belsay before the guy decided he wanted to go back to Otterburn and that he should drive the car now. The confused Evelyn rejected, and the man smacked her in the face, probably as a sort of constraint, before sliding into the driver's seat and driving on towards Wolf's Nick. The automobile soon came to a halt, and the scared girl was shoved into the back and drenched with liquid from a bottle. The Hudson then veered over a cliff and tumbled onto the moor before coming to a standstill in a ditch. Evelyn was still laying prone in the back seat when the automobile was set on fire.
It was just after nine o'clock when the final bus to Otterburn departed Newcastle's Haymarket bus station. There were only a few passengers on board, as well as Tommy Rutherford, the bus conductor, and Cecil Johnstone, the bus driver. It was maybe fortunate that none of the evening's passengers were going as far as Otterburn, for what they would have witnessed would have undoubtedly stayed with them for the rest of their lives, as it did for the two Foster employees. Cecil Johnstone was the first to see it when they traveled through Wolf's Nick.
His unbelieveable sight was drawn to an unmistakable glimmer of lone fire on the otherwise bleak and chilly moor. The bus quickly came to a halt, with only Johnstone racing towards the flames and his colleague staying on board. Rutherford, too, was scrambling over the crisply-set moor as it became clear that something was very wrong. A faint and small groaning sound could be heard towards the front of the automobile, interspersed between the crackling of flames. The two guys were scanning the blazing mass with a keen eye when Rutherford observed a black item lying between the automobile and the road.
Johnstone knelt alongside Evelyn after recognizing her, and she was overheard saying, 'Oh, that dreadful man.' Her head was turned away as her trauma-ravaged body convulsed rhythmically on the freezing moor. She was laying on her side, nude from the waist down, and her head was turned away. In a frantic attempt at rehydration, she was licking the drops of ice that were coated on the moor all around her. Johnstone took off his jacket and put it around Evelyn, noting that her left palm was nearly totally burnt away as he did so.
Evelyn's entire spectrum of injuries were not visible when he carefully manoeuvred her under his coat, though it was evident that she was suffering from significant burns. Johnstone tried to console Evelyn by telling her who he was, but she didn't seem to recognize him. Tommy Rutherford led the way over the black countryside as he gently scooped Evelyn up off the moor and led her to the bus. Evelyn lay in agony on the bus before the three of them dashed back to Otterburn for help. When he returned to the village at half past ten, another Foster garage employee, Thomas Vasey, heard the bus arrive and, intrigued by its arrival at such an hour, raced over to it.
Evelyn recognized the auto technician and requested that he 'raise her up' on the way to Otterburn, indicating that the shock she had been under had subsided. Vasey inquired as to who had performed such a heinous deed, and Evelyn unwittingly answered, 'He threw something over me and lit fire to the automobile.' Johnstone and Vasey brought the little girl to her house and upstairs to her bedroom before laying her on the bed, undoubtedly straining to comprehend what they were seeing and hearing. After settling Evelyn into some kind of normalcy, the procedures of calling the cops and the doctor were completed. Vasey then drove to Elsdon, a nearby village, to pick up District Nurse Lawson. Unfortunately, after seeing Evelyn's wounds, the district nurse was limited in how much she could aid the patient, only treating the face burns. Evelyn needed a lot of powerful medicine to help her cope with the agony.
The local cops had arrived at the Kennels, and they were confronted with a whole riddle of a case with which they were unfamiliar. Otterburn fit the stereotype of the village bobby involved in minor poaching disputes and sheep rustling, yet here they were, with a badly burnt young girl in front of them and an obvious case of attempted and unjustified murder. However, when the police arrived, they were told that the crime may very probably be increased to murder because it was becoming increasingly probable that Evelyn would die as a result of her injuries.
Sergeant Shanks and Constable Fergusson rushed to Evelyn's bedside in the hopes that she may be able to provide crucial information that would aid the inquiry. round Evelyn's bedside gathered a slew of cops and physicians, as well as Evelyn's mother, Margaret, whom the cops bizarrely permitted to lead the questioning of her daughter as Constable Fergusson hurriedly took notes. Evelyn reported that while laying on the moor, she heard the Hudson's gasoline tank burst, followed by the sound of a car approaching and stopping at the scene before continuing on its journey.
Margaret Foster then inquired if Evelyn had been 'indecently assaulted,' to which Evelyn replied affirmatively. She could also see that the man was wearing a hard hat and a dark (possibly blue) overcoat, but she couldn't tell what his accent was like. Evelyn slipped in and out of consciousness for many hours after making her testimony to the police, oblivious to the fact that she was about to die, until she turned to her mother for the final time and murmured, 'Mother...I have been killed.' Evelyn Foster passed away in her bed between 5 and 9 a.m. the morning following her harrowing ordeal.
The murder grabbed front-page news almost immediately. The tried and true recipe of a slain young girl in some distant and dismal location, by a criminal who seemingly vanished without a trace, seemed to captivate the public's curiosity in the same unyielding manner that we still see today. The communal conviction that Evelyn had been killed produced an inevitable panic among inhabitants throughout the parish, and Otterburn became a hive of activity. However, authorities were sceptical that she had been murdered at all, preferring instead to believe that Evelyn had set the fire herself as part of a complex insurance scheme.
The burned-out Hudson was ordered to be hauled off the moor and admitted for a motor expert check, which was done by Morpeth's William Jennings. Jennings completed his assessment on Thursday, January 8th, and came up with some surprising results. The engine, he discovered, showed no signs of severe fire, and the fuel tank, despite the apparent tremendous heat, had not ignited and was still holding its contents. He verified that the fire originated in the back of the automobile, as Evelyn had stated, but he couldn't say who ignited it.
The possibility that the incident was staged sparked outrage in the hamlet, especially among the Foster family; her father insisted that "the murder was a well-planned scheme," but the police were unable to find a motive. However, the insurance argument itself was not based on sound reasoning; the automobile was not overly insured, and neither Evelyn nor the Foster family looked to be in financial distress. The Community Memorial Hall was now the center of attention, as if to symbolize the rapidity with which life had abruptly changed in the village.
Evelyn had just been at the hall a week before for the Christmas festivities, but now, in stark contrast, the structure was receiving her lifeless body for the inquiry into her death. Philip Mark Dodds was the coroner for the South District of Northumberland, and Professor McDonald was the pathologist. The inquiry would, however, be cut short when the pathologist concluded that no physical evidence of Evelyn's alleged punch to the face - possibly the most salient element of the inquest – before the coroner delayed proceedings until February 2nd.
Regardless of the police's efforts to determine the cause of Evelyn's death, the heartbreaking and unavoidable possibility of the Fosters burying their daughter arrived on a dreary and foggy January day. Hundreds of people from nearby villages and towns gathered on Otterburn to see "one of the saddest ceremonies," as the local press characterized it. Evelyn was buried in the grounds of St John the Evangelist Church, just yards from her family's house.
The inquest into Evelyn's death was continued on Monday, February 2nd. Evelyn's death had to be decided by a jury of nine men, all of whom knew Evelyn, whether it was murder or accident; suicide was not a possibility in the case. The first witness, Margaret Foster, was called, and coroner Dodds broached the terrible possibility that Evelyn had performed the deed herself. Mrs Foster categorically refuted the accusation. Mrs Foster stated that Evelyn had simply not seen him to question why she had not taken George Philipson with her on the night she picked up the mystery guy as she had been told.
Finally, Evelyn's bereaved mother was asked to identify some of her daughter's clothes. She lost control at this point and was brought back to her seat while crying. Things were not going to get any easier for the family on the penultimate day of the inquest. Dr. Edward McEachran was the first witness to testify, and he affirmed that the cause of death was shock induced by severe burns. However, it was the second witness of the day that sparked the greatest interest.
Professor Stuart McDonald, the pathologist, was the man who would offer answers to the rising conjecture around the case, not least the lingering issue of whether Evelyn had been the victim of murder or a self-inflicted plot. Professor McDonald continued by explaining the extent of Evelyn's burns over her body as the group became silent. The most serious burns were found on the front of the body, on the front and inner aspects of the upper part of both thighs, and, to a lesser degree, on the lower half of both flanks. From the chin to the center of the forehead, and on each side to the front of the ears, there was a superficial widespread burning. The eyelids were swelled and burned, but the eyes had escaped. The superficial skin around the chin, lips, and nose was removed in large amounts. The head's hair had virtually evaded the flames.
The pathology report then moved on to the likelihood that Evelyn Foster had been subjected to any sexual intervention. 'The hymen was about oval in form and admitted the tips of the right fore and middle fingers,' according to the post-mortem report. It had fimbriated edges, but no laceration or other symptoms of recent damage.' McDonald verified that the attack was not sexual in nature, saying that he "checked the dead for indications of sexual interference but reached to the judgment that she was virgo intact; there was no evidence of violation." The professor went on to say that he couldn't uncover any evidence of any face damage or bruises, which Evelyn had said had happened. Throughout this time, the Fosters sat impassively, with Mr Foster showing occasional signs of worry.
Following Mr Jennings' speech and his motor engineering report, Mr Dodds began his review of the inquiry, making it clear to the jurors what their goal was. 'All of the physicians concur that the death was caused by shock from the burns.' It is your responsibility to determine how these burns occurred.' 'My judgment, I must say, is that I do not believe there is sufficient evidence to suggest that these burns were inflicted by another person,' he said.
If Dodds' mind was made up about what transpired on the moor, the jury wasn't so sure. Mr McDougal, the jury foreman, eventually stated the collective judgment after little over two hours of deliberation: 'The verdict is willful murder against some unknown individual.' 'We, the jury, conclude that Evelyn Foster died on the 7th day of January, 1931, in the Kennels, Otterburn, from shock due to burns caused by petrol being maliciously thrown over her and ignited by some person or people unknown,' wrote Mr Dodds, obviously irritated by the judgment.
The case became increasingly heated after this; the police disagreed with the jury's verdict and maintained their position that whatever occurred to Evelyn Foster on January 6, she was not the victim of a homicide. The Foster family, especially Evelyn's father, persevered in their search for answers that the authorities were unable to provide. Even he, Evelyn's most ardent supporter, had to accept defeat at some point, saying, "I haven't given up hope totally, but, alas, the conclusion of a pointless search is in sight." To this day, there is no solid confirmation of what happened on that fatal frigid night. However, one intriguing possibility surrounds the last words said by a guy just before his death at Armley Prison, Leeds, some 150 miles distant.
On September 6, 1933, shortly before four o'clock in the morning, another little community, this time in Towton, North Yorkshire, was rocked by very inexplicable occurrences when an incredible explosion erupted from Saxton Grange and its garage. Residents of The Grange instantly realized where the flames were coming from and promptly evacuated the building, seeking for help from the emergency services.
Firefighters were able to put out the fire long enough for the cops to check the garages. The charred remains of two burnt-out automobiles remained mostly, but chillingly, in the rear of one of the cars, a Chrysler, was the blackened body of Mr Freddy Morton, the property's owner. Mr Morton was first thought to have died in the fire, but a post-mortem the next morning revealed that the victim had died from a gunshot wound to his abdomen. Mr Morton's gunshot wound would never have been detected if it had struck the top section of his body, which had been entirely destroyed in the fire. The improbable finding, however, has now resulted in the search for a murder suspect, as the tiniest of court margins occasionally necessitate.
Suspicion swiftly landed on an unusual source: Ernest Brown, the family's groom and driver. Brown had had multiple sexual liaisons with Mrs Dorothy Morton, the victim's wife, and it was quickly revealed that the seeming timeless motivation of adultery was the reason for the crime. Brown had been observed carrying a gun the night of the murder. Ernest Brown claimed in his statement to police that he had been out shooting rats in the grounds of the home, but when a police check of the exact locations in issue turned up no indications of any bullets, pellets, or even dead rats, it was evident that he had a case to answer.
Mr Justice Humphreys presided over the trial, which began on Monday, December 11 at Leeds Assizes. Brown's final appointment on Earth would be with the hangman after a four-day trial in which a jury of 10 men and two women issued a guilty verdict, guaranteeing that Brown's final appointment on Earth would be with the hangman. Ernest Brown died on February 6, 1934, at Armley Prison. When he was on the gallows, though, he was asked if he wanted to confess anything. Brown is supposed to have shouted 'ought to burn' with his dying breath, just as the trap was set, killing him instantaneously. Was Brown alluding to his favored manner of murder, or was his final phrase, 'Otterburn,' an allusion to a prior, unsolved murder deep inside Northumberland's desolate and unforgiving moors?
Whether Ernest Brown's final murmurings be seen as a climax to one of Northumberland's most dramatic cases, or just perpetuate a story now enshrined in legend, opinion is mixed. Despite the fact that it has been over ninety years since Evelyn Foster's death, the case's longevity in the public mind is evidenced by the fact that there is still debate about it. The Foster family burial is a vivid reminder of a bygone tragedy that once shook the community of Otterburn, its capacity to interest and captivate appearing to last forever.