Ticket to Dorchester Jail
Roger Guttridge recalls a lottery scam from yesteryear
Published in April ’19
In this age of National Lotteries, Thunderballs and EuroMillions, it seems apt to recall the most bizarre of lottery stories, which unfolded in a Dorset village more than 300 years ago. The location was Wynford Eagle, where the manor had been held by the Sydenhams since 1551.
The family had already produced one notable son in Thomas Sydenham, a 17th-century physician described as ‘the father of British medicine’. ‘He threw aside the jargon and ridiculous traditions with which medicine was then hampered, and applied to the study of it sound common sense,’ wrote the royal surgeon and Dorset topographer, Sir Frederick Treves. But another Sydenham, William, was destined not so much for fame as for notoriety. He was the last male of his line and, as it turned out, the family’s
black sheep.
At the beginning of the 18th century, William ran into financial problems and dreamed up an imaginative scheme to solve them. His plan was to sell lottery tickets and offer the entire Wynford Eagle estate as the prize. At least, that was the public plan. The private one was to arrange the outcome in advance with an acquaintance, who would then restore the estate to him in exchange for a cash reward. A suitable person was identified – a woman described as a ‘confidante of the family’ – and a deal struck. The lottery took place and, sure enough, the woman was declared the lucky winner.
At this point, however, the story began to depart from Sydenham’s script. For the woman reneged on the deal, claiming her prize in full and threatening to expose William if he refused to have the deeds transferred. She also used her new-found wealth to acquire a husband, one Doily Michel – and he promptly sold the manor to someone else!
Sydenham, meanwhile, refused to budge. With his two daughters, he ‘clung to the ancestral walls and no doubt called down fire from heaven to consume the treacherous Mrs Michel’, as Treves reports. Sadly for Sydenham, the full force of the law eventually landed on his head. In 1709, he was committed to Dorchester Jail, where he languished until his death nine years later.
When a former owner of Stalbridge House lent the building to a friend and her children for the Christmas season, she made an odd stipulation. Lady Anglesey insisted that her guests must not only do everything her housekeeper required of them but in particular must make sure they were not in the entrance hall at 5 o’clock on any afternoon.
The family did their best to comply, but one day some other children came round to play. Their departure was slightly delayed and the visiting lady found herself in the hall as the clock struck five. ‘Hardly had the hour passed when her notice was attracted by a figure issuing from the door of one of the bedrooms on the first floor, which could be seen from the hall,’ wrote the Rev. W S Swayne in his History and Antiquities of Stalbridge, published in 1889. ‘The figure was that of a woman enveloped in flames, who repeated to herself in an agonised voice: “I have done it. I have done it.” The figure disappeared immediately into the door of another room.’
When Lady Anglesey’s friend climbed the stairs, she was surprised to find that both the doors used by the mysterious woman were locked. Intrigued, she decided to be in the hall at 5pm on another day – and witnessed a repeat of the strange events.
‘Now thoroughly convinced that it was something more than a mere freak of her imagination, she returned at once with her children to London and took an early opportunity of calling upon the owner,’ wrote Mr Swayne. ‘She mentioned what she had seen and begged to know what was the meaning of it. The following story was then related to her.
‘Some years before, the house was inhabited by a widowed mother and her only son, who was not yet of age. One day the boy came to see his mother and told her that he had fallen in love with the gamekeeper’s daughter. The mother reproved him for his indiscretion and forbade him to mention the subject again. Not long after, the boy returned to the subject and announced his intention of marrying the girl. Once more his mother refused to listen to him.’
Some weeks passed before the son broached the subject a third time. This time he told his mother it would be better for her to accept the inevitable, as the girl was already his wife. The mother was so indignant that she turned her son out of the house with orders never to return.
A few months later, the mother appeared to have a change of heart. She told her son she was now willing to receive both him and his wife at Stalbridge House. Delighted, the young man duly arrived with his beautiful bride, who did her best to please her mother-in-law. But one evening he returned from a day’s hunting to learn that his wife had burned to death. According to his mother, she heard a scream and turned to see her daughter-in-law enveloped in flames after accidentally setting her dress on fire. The time was 5pm.
No-one doubted the story until the mother was on her deathbed. Then she made a startling confession. She revealed that she had in fact murdered her daughter-in-law by pushing her into the fire. From that day on, Stalbridge House was haunted by the figure of the old woman enveloped in flames and proclaiming her crime. It is said that the haunting continued until 1822, when Stalbridge House was demolished and the flaming ghost laid to rest.
