corpse of their victim, it would bleed. Therefore anyone who seemed particularly upset at seeing the head was forced by the constables to touch it so that they could observe whether blood oozed forth from it.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, this approach failed to produce a suspect, and it was not long before the head began to decay and to be pecked at by the local birds. Fearful of it becoming unrecognizable, the magistrates ordered that it be immersed in a large jar of gin to preserve it, then taken inside the church. This was duly done and that, for the time being, was that.
Catherine Hall was a dominant, attractive woman who drew admirers easily. She was born near Birmingham, England, in 1690, the daughter of a pauper, and left home at the age offifteen to seek her fortune in London. On her way she fell in with several military officers, who took a shine to her and brought her with them to their billets at Ombersley, Worcestershire, where she stayed with them for some time. She eventually left them and was next picked up by a respectable farmer called Hayes. He was much older than she, and she quickly formed a relationship with his son John instead. The two were married in secret. When Johnâs father found out, seeing that it was too late to do anything about the relationship, he set up his son in business as a carpenter. However, the rural life wasnât enough for Catherineâshe wanted more. She wanted London and all that it had to offer her. After putting considerable pressure on her new husband, she finally convinced him to move there. The pair established a lodging house and soon also became successful coal merchants, moneylenders, and pawnbrokers. They quickly amassed considerable savings. Later, Catherine took in two young lodgers called Thomas Wood and Thomas Billings.
An organ-builderâs apprentice by the name of Bennet had by now seen the head on display in St. Margaretâs. Having done so, he felt compelled to call on Catherine at her residence on Tyburn Road (now Oxford Street), to tell her that he believed the head to be that of her husband, John, with whom he had once worked. Catherine was incensed. She assured Bennet that John was quite well and warned him that if he continued to spread such nasty false rumors, she would have to ask the police to arrest him.
But one Samuel Patrick had also been to see the head, and he too felt certain that he recognized it. Later that day, he told anyone in the Dog and Dial pub who would listen that the head bore a striking resemblance to John Hayes of Tyburn Road.Thomas Billings, one of Catherineâs lodgers, happened to be drinking in the pub at the same time. He assured the company that all was well and that he had left John Hayes sleeping soundly when he set out from home that morning. Despite this reassurance, several of Hayesâs friends remained suspicious. Eventually, a man by the name of Ashby asked Catherine about her husband to her face. She came up with a most bizarre explanation, telling him that John had been forced to flee to Portugal, having killed a man during a quarrel. Ashby was quite rightly unconvinced by this explanation, especially since Billings had completely failed to mention this rather dramatic occurrence. Another friend of Hayes, a Mr. Longmore, also questioned Catherine on the matter and similarly felt sure that she was not telling the truth. As a result the two men went to see a magistrate, who agreed with them that it all seemed rather suspicious and issued a warrant for Catherineâs arrest. She was found in bed with Billings. Both were promptly arrested, as were two other lodgers, Thomas Wood and a Mrs. Springate.
Catherine now asked to see the head and was taken to it. On being shown the pickled remains, she snatched the jar up in her arms and screamed dramatically, âOh, it is my dear husbandâs head!â and kissed the jar. Clearly this was not a sufficient display of her feelings, for then, in one of the