13

‘I went to that house with nothing but love in my heart’

Glasgow, 1876

In October 1874, Thomas Barr married his second wife, Margaret Sloan, who was then around twenty years old. It was a second marriage for thirty-four-year-old Barr, whose first wife had died while giving birth to the couple’s fourth child and it was to prove an unhappy union, due mainly to Barr’s extreme jealousy and unfounded and unreasonable doubts about his wife’s fidelity.

In July 1875, Margaret gave birth to a baby boy but the child died later that day. The tragedy seemed to be the catalyst for an escalation in Thomas Barr’s abuse of his wife and, as well as suspecting her of associating with other men, he also accused her of neglecting her household duties and ill-treating her stepchildren. The marriage limped on for a few months, during which time Margaret left her husband several times but was somehow always persuaded to return. In one letter to her mother, she wrote, ‘He has been continually ill-using me since I had the child and he watches me so closely that I cannot get away from him. If I propose going, he has a knife at my throat or a poker.’ Barr was a travelling book salesman and so acute was his mistrust of his wife that he even forced her to accompany him as he walked his rounds so that he could keep an eye on her. Margaret Barr found this intolerable and in February 1876, although she was already pregnant with the couple’s second child, she left her husband and went back to live with her mother, a widow who kept a lodging house in a tenement block in Gallowgate, Glasgow. However, two of Mrs Sloan’s lodgers were young, unmarried men, which made Barr all the more jealous particularly after someone mentioned that they had seen his wife out with two men. Barr was furious and wrote to his brother-in-law accusing him of harbouring Mrs Barr and threatening to ‘have his satisfaction’ from the family. However, his threats were not taken seriously and neither was anybody too concerned when he was spotted hanging about outside the lodging house.

Only one of Mrs Sloan’s lodgers came home for a meal at lunchtime and at around 3 p.m. on 1 March 1876, after the man had left to go back to work, Barr knocked on the door of the lodging house. Mrs Sloan opened the door but as soon as she saw who her visitor was, she asked him to leave. Barr ignored her and pushed past her into the house and as Mrs Sloan tried to physically prevent him from entering, he suddenly lashed out at her with a large knife that he was carrying. Again and again he viciously stabbed her, until her screams brought Margaret rushing from the front room to her mother’s assistance. As Mrs Sloan fell to the floor mortally wounded, Barr turned his knife on his wife. Margaret fought desperately as he repeatedly thrust the knife into her body, before finally slashing her across the back of her neck and running off. The women’s screaming had brought people flocking from nearby buildings but nobody dared confront the bloodstained man, who was still wielding a large knife.

When the neighbours entered the lodging house they found Margaret Barr on her hands and knees in a hallway, blood pooling beneath her on the floor. A doctor was called, arriving within minutes to find fifty-year-old Mrs Sloan lying at the entrance to the kitchen breathing shallowly. She drew her last breath as she was being carefully lifted onto a sofa and, in pronouncing life extinct, Dr William L. Muir discovered a deep stab wound in her chest, between her first and second ribs, and two large stab wounds on the left-hand side of her neck, along with multiple cuts and slashes on her hands and arms. The two neck wounds were stabs in a downward direction and both had ultimately penetrated Mrs Sloan’s chest, one passing in front of and one behind her spine. Although still alive, Margaret had a similar catalogue of injuries, including the cut across the back of her neck, two four-inch-deep stab wounds on her shoulders, one on her left leg and about a dozen puncture wounds on her back, shoulders and neck, as well as countless defence wounds.

Dr Muir administered first aid to Margaret, before arranging for her urgent admission to the Glasgow Royal Infirmary. Meanwhile, her husband had fled the scene as fast as he possibly could. He had left his cap and scarf behind and called in at a house nearby to see if the occupants could sell him something to replace them. When they were unable to help him, he stopped a man named McEwan in the street and grabbed his cap, offering him 3d in exchange. McEwan wasn’t happy with the offer and followed Barr as far as Waterloo Street, where Barr spotted two policemen walking towards him and rapidly ducked into a close off the main road, with McEwan in pursuit.

Barr suddenly rounded on his pursuer and asked him.

‘Do you intend to blow [inform] upon me?’

‘I just want my cap or its worth,’ McEwan replied, explaining that he had recently paid 1s for the cap. Barr handed over a shilling without quibbling and McEwan happily went on his way. Barr then threw away his knife, which was later found in a wood yard, before heading to a draper’s shop in Gallowgate and purchasing a pair of painter’s overalls to hide his bloodstained clothes, for which he paid 2s 6d.

As soon as the police learned that a murder had been committed and that the killer was on the loose, they put a watch on all of the railway stations and increased their patrols of the streets, particularly those roads leading out of the city. All ports were alerted, since Barr’s mother lived with his youngest child in St Petersburg, Russia, and it was feared that he might try to flee the country. Three policemen were despatched to Barr’s home but were told by his children that they hadn’t seen him since 10 a.m. that morning. Although the children refused to say anything about their father, they had plenty to say against their stepmother, accusing her of drunkeness and saying that she constantly nagged their father. The eldest child was twelve and told police that his father had given him some money on the morning of the murder and told him to look after his two sisters. Barr told his son that he would be late home, since he had to go to the Small Claims Court to pursue an overdue account for the supply of some Bibles. It was quickly confirmed that Barr had indeed attended court that morning and the house was placed under surveillance just in case he should return.

Barr was known to the police, as he had in the recent past complained to them about his wife’s conduct, saying that he had proof that she had been unfaithful to him and enquiring about the cost of obtaining a divorce. Now, his description was issued to the press for publication in the following day’s newspapers. Barr was said to be ‘about thirty-six to forty years of age, 5ft 8in high, broad face, high cheekbones, nose flat at bridge, wide nostrils, dark, swarthy complexion, black, curly hair, medium length, full black beard and moustache, black eyebrows, black staring eyes. Round shouldered and stoops a little when walking, ordinary build. He is dressed in a dark cloth shooting coat, shepherd tartan trousers, double-breasted shepherd tartan vest, all spotted with blood, black bonnet and elastic sided boots. Wears two or three gold rings on right hand, one with a white stone and had a silver watch and gold Albert watch chain and locket.’ A reward of £100 was offered by the Glasgow Police Authorities for information leading to his capture.

The police were told that a man wearing overalls and matching Barr’s description called in at a public house in the city shortly after the murder and bought a pint of beer. Then a coachman came forward to say that a man had accosted him and demanded a lift out of the city. Although the coachman refused him, the police visited the area towards which the man was heading and conducted house-to-house enquiries, although they received no further information. Officers were sent to visit Barr’s friends and relations where, although the police found no trace of their fugitive, they did find a considerable amount of information about his relationship with his wife, who still lay at death’s door at the Infirmary. A former neighbour told police that Barr led his wife a dog’s life and ‘quite broke her heart’, adding that Barr was so convinced that Margaret was being unfaithful to him that he even timed her when she went to the well for water, accusing her of consorting with other men if she took too long.

Details of the crime were printed in the police magazine Hue and Cry, which reached the village of Belhelvie near Aberdeen on 8 March. On reading it, PC Black recalled having seen a man of similar appearance to Barr six days earlier and went to make some enquiries in the area. On the information Black received, it seemed obvious to him that Barr was heading for Aberdeen so he went to the chief constable there with his suspicions and Sergeant Brandie was detailed to help Black search for the fugitive. The two officers tracked their suspect to the Buchan Hotel, Ellon, where he was said to have taken refreshments on 6 March. The proprietor told the policemen that Barr had expressed a keen interest in reading the newspapers and had also asked to see a railway timetable. From Ellon, he headed off towards Peterhead and on 7 March he obtained a job as a labourer in a stone polishing works in Boddam, taking lodgings with a Mrs Thomson in the village. However, on 10 March, he failed to turn up for work and left his employment without even collecting his outstanding wages. He walked through Teuchan and Longside, seeking work and begging refreshments at farms on the way. At Longside, he was given a job as a labourer in a stone quarry but never arrived to start work, instead heading off towards Ardallie. By now, the police were hot on his heels but unfortunately chose the wrong road at a crossroads and lost track of Barr. However, Constable Black had a hunch that Barr might be heading back towards Ellon and telegraphed M Lamont, the inn keeper there, asking him to detain Barr if possible, while he and Brandie travelled back by train.

While the policemen were en route for Ellon, Barr appeared in the village and was spotted by a group of boys, including Mr Lamont’s son, who told his companions that he was the man wanted for murder. The boys tried to capture Barr, who eluded them and ran off towards the station.

When Lamont’s son told his father what had happened, the hotelier quickly harnessed his gig and he and his son went out to look for Barr. The search was unsuccessful, but Lamont then went back to the station, towards which Barr was last seen heading. Spotting some footprints in the snow that didn’t appear to lead anywhere Lamont looked over a wall and found Barr crouching behind some gorse bushes. Cold and hungry, he offered no resistance as Lamont drove him to the station house, where he was detained to await the arrival of Brandie and Black. Inspector Crann and Sergeant Brundle were sent from Glasgow to collect Barr, informing him on their arrival at Mellon that he was charged with the murder of his mother-in-law, Margaret Sloan, also known as Goldie.

Although Margaret Barr initially seemed to be responding well to her treatment in hospital, she died on 9 April. By then, she had already experienced a miscarriage and, a post-mortem examination revealed that, while her wounds seemed to have healed externally, internally her left lung had continued to ooze blood, which collected in her pleural cavity, displacing her heart and eventually interfering with its action and causing it to stop beating. Such was the extent of her internal injuries that the doctors who performed the post-mortem were surprised that she had survived as long as she did.

As soon as his wife died, Barr was charged with an additional murder and was tried before Lord Moncrieff at the Glasgow Circuit Court in May 1876. Before the proceedings began, defence counsel Mr Wallace officially requested that the trial should be transferred to Edinburgh, on the grounds that the extensive and sensational press coverage in Glasgow was likely to have biased the minds of a local jury. He also asked for a postponement of the trial, claiming to have had insufficient time to prepare his defence. After a brief consultation with a colleague, Moncrieff denied both appeals and the trial began with a reading by the clerk of a deposition by Margaret Barr, made on 2 March.

In her deposition, Margaret said that she was twenty-two years old and, in October 1876, would have been married for two years. She recalled the events of 1 March, when she and her mother were alone at her mother’s house, with the exception of her sister’s three-year-old child. Margaret swore that neither she nor her mother had used any violence towards her husband, who had threatened to kill her many times in the past. She insisted that Barr was sober at the time of the attack and stated that his accusations that she went with other men were wholly untrue.

The next witness was Margaret’s brother, James Sloan, who could add little to the proceedings, although he did tell the court that he had once seen a burn on his sister’s leg, which she claimed her husband had made with a hot poker.

Arthur Frederick Collins, who was now five years old, had been in the house with his aunt and grandmother when they were attacked. He wept in terror as he was placed on a chair in front of the witness box but when his sobs subsided, he was able to answer questions about what he recalled of the day on which the two women were murdered. ‘Barr cut Maggie with a knife,’ he told the court solemnly, ‘and Maggie hit Barr after he cut her.’

The next evidence introduced in court was the letter sent by Barr to his brother-in-law. Dated 29 February 1876, Sloan received the note on the day of the murder, opening it only minutes before a message arrived asking him to go to his mother’s house as a matter of urgency. Although the letter was read out in court to the jury, the ‘foul allegations of gross immorality’ made by Barr against his wife were considered ‘shockingly unfit for the public prints’ and the contemporary newspapers wrote only that the contents of the letter caused a great sensation in court.

The testimony of the medical witnesses ended the case for the prosecution, leaving only the closing speeches from the prosecution and the defence and a summary of the case by the presiding judge.

For the prosecution, Mr Burnet contended that after his wife left him, Barr nursed a homicidal wrath towards her, which culminated in an explosion of fury on 1 March. Burnet described Barr’s flight, pursuit and eventual capture, arguing that his behaviour in the wake of his terrible acts was added proof, if it were needed, that the killings were premeditated and were committed when Barr was of sound mind.

It was left to his defence counsel to try and save his client’s life. Mr Wallace proposed that rather than nursing a homicidal wrath, Barr was suffering from delusions about his wife’s fidelity and that his actions on 1 March were therefore out of his control, since he was acting on impulse. Barr was known to be a suspicious, irritable and short-tempered man and the notion that his wife was being unfaithful grew in his mind until it became a morbid and overriding passion. Yet while the defence counsel put forward the theory that Barr was temporarily insane at the time of the killings and had committed a crime of passion as a result of the intensity of his feelings of jealousy, they produced no medical witnesses whatsoever to support such claims. In his summary for the jury, the judge left the question of the defendant’s sanity or otherwise to the jury, although he did point out that, in his opinion, the prisoner’s actions hardly justified any suggestion that he was temporarily insane or that he committed the killings in the heat of the moment.

The jury agreed and found Barr guilty of two counts of wilful murder, adding no rider about his mental state at the time of the killings and making no recommendation for mercy on the grounds of provocation in the form of misconduct by his wife. When Moncrieff pronounced the mandatory death sentence, setting a provisional date of 31 May 1876 for the execution, Barr asked permission to say a few words.

In a long speech, he informed the jury that they had made a wrong decision, as he had not been responsible for his conduct. He swore before God – before whom he would be appearing on 31 May and to whom he would have to account for his actions – that when he entered his mother-in-law’s house, he had absolutely no intention whatsoever of harming anybody or doing any violence. ‘Such blindness came over me when I entered the house that all memory of what took place beforehand vanished from my recollection,’ he continued. ‘I went to that house with nothing but love in my heart,’ Barr insisted, adding that he lost control of his actions when his mother-in-law refused to let him see his wife.

In the days before his execution, Barr spent a lot of time with his spiritual advisors Reverend Brock and Reverend Dr Fergus Ferguson. After Barr’s death, the two men issued a joint statement saying that they had found the prisoner respectful, docile and very receptive to their visits. However, he continued to argue the degree of his blameworthiness for the two murders, sticking resolutely to the statement that he made after his sentencing in court. ‘He assured us again and again that he had intended no violence and seemed to feel that he should be pitied on account of the provocation he claimed to have endured from his wife’s infidelity,’ the statement continued. Brock and Ferguson disclosed that they had tried to make Barr understand that, even if he had acted in a frenzy, it was up to him to have resisted the sudden impulse that seized him, rushing away from the scene if need be. Such was the argument between Barr and his advisors about his guilt that Barr eventually refused to have any more discussion on the subject. Brock and Ferguson ended their statement by claiming that Barr had experienced something of an epiphany immediately before his execution and had been blessed with what the clerics referred to as ‘a great spiritual enlightenment’. Ferguson had given Barr a book to read and Barr asked if he might possibly keep it, since he had very little in the world to leave his children. When Ferguson agreed and promised to see that the child received the copy of Sankey’s Hymns, Barr took his pen and inscribed on the flyleaf, ‘To Marjory. I loved you. Thomas Barr’.

When executioner William Marwood arrived at the condemned cell, Barr received him calmly. Asked by the prison governor if he wanted a last drink before mounting the scaffold, Barr replied, ‘I want no stimulants but Christ,’ although he did request a glass of water. He walked firmly and resolutely to the gallows, raising his eyes heavenwards as he was pinioned by the executioner and dying almost instantly when the bolt was released.

He left behind him a written statement to be opened after his death, in which he thanked the prison governor and staff for their kindness and civility towards him, particularly for allowing him to see his children:

Seeing that I have heard that a doubt still exists that I, Thomas Barr, went up the stairs and into that house where the sad calamity occurred for which I have to suffer tomorrow, I hereby declare again, as I did in the box, that so far as I know, when on that stair and even when I entered that house, I had not the slightest intention of murder or violence, so far as I know. I will say nothing for or against my wife’s conduct now as it would be both unchristian and unmanly. I hope God has forgiven her and saved both her and her poor unfortunate mother, whose deaths I do regret.

In the wake of the execution, many of the contemporary newspapers printed editorials arguing the appropriateness of Barr’s sentence. ‘It may be admitted that it is generally hazardous for a young girl to marry a widower with children,’ declared one newspaper, adding that the household was subsequently afflicted by the blackest demon, jealousy. Claiming that the final separation seemed to have worked Barr up into ‘a pitch of mortal fury’, the killings were said to be the wickedly calculated actions of a man who had all his wits about him, although these operated within a degraded moral sense. He went about the matter with deliberation, waited his chance and perpetrated the deed with the utmost coolness, even to the extent of paying for the cap he plucked from a man’s head and buying overalls to conceal his bloody clothes. ‘Barr was never a man insane and therefore afflicted with delusions; he is a man of strong mind, if ill-regulated passions and his jealousy sprang up in his mind and was nurtured in spite of his intelligence,’ the editorial concluded.

‘Barr had less apparent cause for jealousy, yet he allowed the monster to seize and blacken his mind and deaden his moral instincts,’ claimed another newspaper, pronouncing him wicked, not insane. ‘Whether the tragedy was premeditated or the result of passion matters very little,’ argued a third publication. ‘What matters most is that there was no proof forthcoming that Mrs Barr was what her weak and wicked husband declared her to be and no proof that Barr was other than cruel and suspicious and himself the victim of unfounded jealousy.’