True Crime Studies: “Murder, Magic, Madness” recounts a very strange crime in a very strange time
Penned by Owen Davies, a historian on modern and contemporary witchcraft, Murder, Magic, Madness: The Victorian Trials of Dove and the Wizard is the perfect book for anyone that lives for the cold hard facts. That’s primarily what this book is. There are no real theories or opinions or deep psychological analysis. Everything recounted in Murder, Magic, Madness is documented in history and told with about as much charisma as a technical manual. Not saying that the book is bad, or boring, only that it feels a bit like an Encyclopedia.
I am impressed with the amount of information that Davies gives though. There’s very little detail about this crime available, which means Davies must have worked mega hard on his research. It’s admirable, the amount that he shares, but it’s a shame that he writes it with such frankness.
In 1850s England, in a time when people were living between magic and science, there was a man named William Dove who murdered his wife Harriet, and he wasn’t at all discreet about it. Dove was an interesting fellow. Raised by devout Methodists that dotted on him, William was a true problem child that grew into an even more difficult adult.
Although there weren’t many proper diagnoses available during this time, it’s possible that the man had both a mental illness and a learning disability. He had violent mood swings that came without warning and seemed incapable of grasping a concept if too complicated. The author assumes he had Type 1 Bipolar Disorder and the theory certainly matches up with Dove’s many symptoms.
Dove struggled through adulthood, until one day, he meets a woman who falls in love with him. A strange woman with a presumably equally unpredictable temper named Harriet, and these two had a strange marriage. Of course, none of their home life is discussed in great detail but pieced together through first-hand accounts. House servants, neighbors, and friends who all describe the relationship as being like that of Frank and Monica from Shameless. A mix between extremely happy, extremely sad, childlike puppy love and violent explosions, up until the day that Dove decided to kill her.
Cunning Folk
The beginning of Dove’s demise started with Henry Harrison, a cunning-folk, and a real do**hebag. Cunning-folk were “professional” practitioners of magic in Britain. They were basically fortune-tellers and fake wizards that called themselves doctors. Obviously, most were frauds. The ones that weren’t could just be called herbalists. They were popular during a time when science was getting difficult to swallow and a lot of people found comfort in magic. Life was hard and, like religion, magic let people hold on to the belief that they held some kind of power over their life.
Davies actually wrote another book all about cunning-folk titled Popular Magic: Cunning-folk in English History so if you ever want to know more you can check that out.
Harrison was a cunning-folk who lived near the Dove’s and quickly became a person of great fascination for William. According to Murder, Magic, Madness, cunning-folk were often used to track down stolen possessions, which is how the two men supposedly met. Dove was mighty impressed with Harrison’s “skills” and started seeing him for other problems which included domestic issues, particularly involving his wife.
It was technically Harrison’s idea to kill her, but Dove needed no persuasion to go along with the plan. To get him on board, Harrison promised Dove that after Harriet died, fate would see him remarry a new wife who would not only be more beautiful but also rich. Harriet wasn’t exactly a “Stepford Wife”. She talked back, had a temper, and fought her husband’s raging alcoholism. So hearing that he was soon due a new and younger wife, Dove spurred into action and he slowly started the process of poisoning Harriet with strychnine.
Immediately after she got sick, he proceeded to go around the town and make sure he looked as guilty as humanly possible. I’m going to be honest, this whole section of the book had me in hysterics. The things Dove did to make sure he wouldn’t be suspected could’ve made it on the list for the world’s dumbest criminals. It took several days for Harriet to die, as he would give her numerous doses of poison, but every time she showed signs of improvement, Dove would straight up tell people she was going to die. Her doctors and friends came to check-in, and cheer at the color returned to her cheeks, only for Dove to walk in the room and just start talking about funeral arrangements. He even went to the coroner, or the equivalent of one back then, and ask if there was any chance that an autopsy wouldn’t be performed on Harriet.
You’d almost think he was trying to get caught, or maybe he was just that stupid. By the time someone suspected something it was too late. Harriet was dead and it wasn’t an easy passing. She clearly suffered and Dove never got this new wife he was promised. Instead he got shackled and carried off to the jailhouse.
I have my own theory about why Harrison suddenly suggested that Harriet be killed and it involved the custody of a walking stick. Harriet and Harrison made no attempts to hide their apparent distaste for one another but it was only after Dove decided to gift his wizard friend his own personal walking stick that the relationship turned dangerously sour. When Harriet found out her husband gave his walking stick away to a quack she demanded he that get it back. She even went over to Harrison’s house to forcibly reclaim it. Eventually, she succeeded and Dove got his stick back, but not before Harrison carved his initials into the handle. Almost immediately after this dispute is when the plan to kill Harriet started taking form. Meaning there’s a strong chance Harrison made the suggestion all out of spite. Don’t come between two men and their gift exchange.
Trial and aftermath
I’m actually shocked by how thin Murder, Magic, Madness is considering how jammed back it is. It crams in as much as it can in under 300 pages and a lot of it has to do with the murder trial. This takes up most of the book, which might be why I often found myself bored with it. I hate everything about court. One of the reasons why I can never finish a John Grisham novel.
Most of the court sections feel like a transcript; “characters” pop in one after another, every defense and every argument is summed up to its bare minimum, letters written by Dove are presented as well as statements made by witnesses. There’s the introduction of the insanity defense which just introduces several passages of experts arguing over Dove’s mental state with some claiming he was totally deranged and others assuming he was mentally handicapped. It was a “moral insanity” versus “moral idiocy” debate with a few crying out “inborn imbecility.”
It doesn’t end there though. Midway through the trial, Dove attempted a deal with the Devil that he just stole word for word from Goethe’s rewrite of Christopher Marlowe’s play The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus. It’s probably the weirdest detail of this story, right along with that walking stick. In the end, Dove was declared guilty and sentenced to hang. Harrison was then tracked down and charged for a multitude of offenses after his past was dug up and people discovered his many past deeds.
No one remembers William Dove today, nor Henry Harrison, but they definitely had an impact on history. Harrison caused a surging fear of intellects while Dove created a reluctant acknowledgment of insanity in relation to crime among the middle and upper class. Why Dove did what he did is never 100% understood as it’s a crime that happened 164 years ago and despite his eagerness to get Harriet out of the picture, I personally got the feeling that Dove wasn’t completely aware of the fact that poisoning Harriet would have resulted in a dead wife. There was a theory that he really believed Harrison’s prediction about Harriet’s death and that by poisoning her he was only speeding up fate.
Either way, Murder, Magic, Madness is a big court transcript sandwiched between two history lectures. Slightly boring, a bit monotone, but you’ll come away with a new look at the evolution of crime. Especially the change in shock value. Two quotes from two newspapers of that time: “This miserable story of folly and of crime goes beyond the boundaries even of fiction”- Western Flying Post, and “…a stranger story than his never passed human lips”- The Leeds Times. Imagine how scandalized they’d be if they could see some of the murder cases going on today.
(3 / 5)
Book Reviews
Barrowbeck: The History of a Cursed Valley
“All this would be theirs, he said. The gods wanted nothing in return. Only that the marsh-folk – or the valley-folk now – should always remember that they were custodians here.
No.
Servants.”
After the acclaimed Starve Acre and its film adaptation, Andrew Michael Hurley extends his exploration of place with Barrowbeck, a collection of short stories published in October 2024. This new folk horror work charts the unsettling history of a town nestled in a secluded Yorkshire-Lancashire valley. From the first footsteps on its soil to a disquieting glimpse into 2041, Barrowbeck’s 13 tales trace a chilling narrative of time and place, where the past and future intertwine with eerie consequences.
- For centuries, the inhabitants of Barrowbeck, a remote valley on the Yorkshire-Lancashire border, have lived uneasily with forces beyond their reckoning
- They raise their families, work the land, and do their best to welcome those who come seeking respite
- But there is a darkness that runs through the village as persistently as the river
Last update on 2025-02-17 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
The Plot.
The initial, undated story, “First Footing,” sets the stage: a band of survivors, their village destroyed, seek sanctuary guided by their deity, Arfon, along a mysterious river. They eventually discover an untouched valley, destined to become Barrowbeck. Following this are twelve time-stamped tales that chronicle the valley’s unsettling evolution. From the haunting melodies of spectral choirs to the bizarre creation of seed-born babies and a girl possessed by the river’s essence, these stories reveal a place steeped in the strange and uncanny.
Highlights.
Hurley’s signature strength lies in crafting folk horror deeply rooted in place, and Barrowbeck is no exception. The opening chapter’s immersive descriptions of the woods and river establish a rich foundation. This is then meticulously layered upon in each subsequent story. As Barrowbeck evolves, we are drawn into its very fabric, witnessing the gradual emergence of road names, family homesteads, and sacred spaces. The setting itself seems to breathe and expand, mirroring the town’s growth with palpable presence.
Hurley’s skill extends beyond the setting, encompassing the intricate development of Barrowbeck’s people. The collection demonstrates a striking commitment to familial continuity, inviting readers to trace the subtle genealogies woven through recurring names. This depth of world-building adds a compelling layer of realism to the fantastical tales.
- An atmospheric and unsettling story of the depths of grief found in an ancient farm in northern England—now a major motion picture starring Matt Smith and Morfydd Clark
- The worst thing possible has happened
- Richard and Juliette Willoughby’s son, Ewan, has died suddenly at the age of five
Last update on 2025-02-17 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
Drawbacks.
Though billed as folk horror, Barrowbeck leans more towards the fantastical, presenting strange occurrences rather than outright scares. Hurley’s commendable effort to adapt his writing style to each time period creates a strong sense of place. However, this approach backfires in the early chapters, notably the first, which echoes the dense prose of Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. This stylistic choice risks alienating readers seeking a horror experience, potentially leading to early abandonment.
The Final Take.
I hate to say it but I was disappointed in Barrowbeck. After Starve Acre and The Lonely, I had high expectations of Hurley as a folk horror author, but this missed the mark. That being said some of the later stories were at least interesting if only for their strangeness.
(2 / 5)
Imagine feeling powerless. Imagine feeling alone and scared. Imagine having everyone blame you for something that isn’t your fault. And then, imagine someone gave you a book that could give you your power back.
That is the story told in Witchcraft For Wayward Girls.
As a warning, this book deals with heavy issues like child SA, teenage pregnancy and forced adoptions. My review will, by necessity, touch lightly on those topics.
The story
Released in January, Witchcraft For Wayward Girls is the story of a girl named Fern. At fifteen, she’s pregnant and unmarried. Her father takes her to a Home for girls in her situation. The plan is simple. She’s to have her baby, give it up for adoption, then go home and move on with her life.
But that’s not how things work out.
When visiting a mobile library, Fern is given a book of witchcraft. She and her friends try one of the spells, and it works. Soon they find themselves doing amazing things like flying in the air and seeking revenge on those who abused them. But magic has a price. And it’s a high one.
What worked
Witchcraft For Wayward Girls was infuriating in the best way possible. From the first few pages, you can feel your blood boiling at the injustice of the situation. It starts with Fern’s father, abandoning her at the Home and just gets worse from there. It’s impossible not to be angry at him, at the boy who impregnated Fern, at the doctors. Pretty much everyone who’s not one of the pregnant girls is unfair and horrible at least some of the time.
It’s astounding how much one can desire vengeance against a person who technically doesn’t exist.
- “Superb
- a perfect horror for our imperfect age
- ” – The New York TimesAN INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES AND USA TODAY BESTSELLERThere’s power in a book…They call them wayward girls
Last update on 2025-02-17 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
I also appreciated the depth of detail in the story. This is something that can be said about all Hendrix books. Witchcraft For Wayward Girls is set in Florida in the summer. And you can feel the sticky, damp heat on every page. You can feel what it must be like to be pregnant in that heat without air conditioning, swimming pools or salt. Even reading this book in chilly Western PA during January, I felt the heat and smelled the wet air.
The best thing about Witchcraft For Wayward Girls, though, is its honesty. This book deals with some hard topics. Well, one hard topic. Teenage pregnancy happens for a lot of reasons. None of them are pleasant to think about. Some are worse than others. And yes, at least one girl in this book is pregnant because she was being abused.
But even the girls who got pregnant through voluntary activities are mistreated in a very realistic way. In each situation, the girls are expected to upend their entire lives. They’re miles from home and treated like they’re the only ones responsible for their current situation. They are treated like foolish children who have truly messed up, while at the same time expecting them to shoulder the burden of women while letting the boys who impregnated them continue to be boys. It’s sick, and it’s all too real.
And it’s exactly this sort of powerlessness that makes witchcraft so appealing. There is a reason why witchcraft tends to be practiced by women and men who are not straight white men. We tend to be women, queer and people of color. We tend to come from poverty. We find ourselves in a world where we have little to no power over our own lives, so we make it for ourselves. Witchcraft For Wayward Girls understands this. And it is that understanding that will make this story so enduring.
Witchcraft For Wayward Girls is another in a long list of fantastic horror from Hendrix. It’s eloquent, inspiring and passionate. If it’s the first book you read by Hendrix I can almost guarantee it won’t be the last.
(5 / 5)
Book Reviews
My Best Friend’s Exorcism: Experience the 80’s, demons and all.
“By the power of Phil Collins, I rebuke you!”
Yeh, okay. I did the thing everyone tells you not to do.
I WATCHED THE MOVIE FIRST!
And I have regrets. But in my defense, when I impulse-watched My Best Friend’s Exorcism, I didn’t realize it was based on a book by the great Grady Hendrix. If you haven’t seen the film I would recommend reading Zeth’s review of it here.
But I am here to talk about the book.
- Hendrix, Grady (Author)
- English (Publication Language)
Last update on 2025-02-10 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
Plot.
My Best Friend’s Exorcism, published in 2016, is a campy 80’s nostalgia-driven take on the possession horror genre. In the opening chapters, we meet fourth-grader Abby. She loves ET: The Extra-Terrestrial, roller-skating and, it seems, any song in the top 10 charts. When the new weird kid, Gretchen, shows up to Abby’s roller-skating party, the two bond and so begins a life-long friendship.
Fast forward to high school in the year 1988. Abby and Gretchen, along with the other half of their girl group, Margaret and Glee, decide to try LSD. Not entirely sure if the stuff is working or if they’re just high on the moment, Gretchen takes off at a run, deciding to skinny dip in the inlet behind Margaret’s house. The girls run after her but when they get to the dock, Gretchen is gone. The frantic search through the woods yields nothing, and Gretchen’s reappearance marks a chilling transformation. As Gretchen’s behavior becomes increasingly erratic and disturbing, Abby suspects something far more sinister than teenage rebellion. Over the course of a terrifying year, Abby must confront the possibility that her best friend is possessed, testing the limits of their friendship and forcing her to face unimaginable horrors to save Gretchen’s soul.
Highlights.
I’m an 80’s baby and this book was like a walk through my childhood. From the landline telephones to the overly zealous hair sprayed hair. A particular highlight for me was the frequent mention of bands, songs, and lyrics. This book triggered nostalgia for me in a big way. I admit that Phil Collins has been in rotation on my playlist since I finished the opening chapter.
Another aspect of My Best Friend’s Exorcism that needs to be noted is the way Hendrix has given his own spin on the ending. The typical possession horror usually ends with the exorcist making a breakthrough with his beliefs and casting out the demon, spirit, or devil (depending on what you’re reading/ watching) This story though does something different and I won’t reveal how because spoilers, but it was a really uplifting and hopeful way to end a book without getting all spiritual.
Drawbacks.
In order to maintain authenticity to the setting and time period, Hendrix has included the not-so-nice aspects of the 80’s. So, there are some racial slurs, and homophobic and non-inclusive language in My Best Friend’s Exorcism. I know this was part of the era and I get why he’s included this, but it didn’t sit well with me. But perhaps that was the point, to remind people that the 80’s was not all neon spandex and high pony tales.
- Amazon Prime Video (Video on Demand)
- Elsie Fisher, Amiah Miller, Rachel Ogechi Kanu (Actors)
- Damon Thomas (Director) – Jenna Lamia (Writer) – Lindsay Williams (Producer)
Last update on 2025-02-10 / Affiliate links / Images from Amazon Product Advertising API
The Final Take.
I know you’ve heard it before, the book is better than the movie. This statement has become a bit of a cliche but in the case of My Best Friend’s Exorcism, there has never been a truer statement spoken. This book was a joy to read, it was a camp, body horror, demonic rollercoaster. But at its core, it is the story of two girls whose friendship withstands the devil.
(4.5 / 5)
