A morbidly fascinating mixture of bungled executions ,strange last requests, and classic final one-liners from medieval times to the present day. Sometimes it's hard to be an executioner, trying to keep someone from popping up to make a quip when they should have spectacularly sunk without a trace. Or to be told that the condemned to the guillotine won't have a last drink for fear of "completely losing his head." The business of death can be absurd, and nothing illustrates this better than these tales of the gruesome and frankly ridiculous ways in which a number of ill-fated unfortunates met (or failed to meet) their maker. Did you know: When Sir Thomas More was ordered to position his head on the block, he said "though you have warrant to cut off my head, you have none to cut off my beard?" When the guillotine took three strokes to sever the neck of Isabeau Herman, the mob attempted to stone the executioner to death for cruelty? After the English hanged the pirate Captain Kidd they chained his body to a stake on the Thames River as a warning to seafarers? From the strange to the gruesome, from the weird to the completely unbelievable, The Executioner Always Chops Twice is popular history at its best: witty, lively, and wonderfully bizarre.

Herefordshire Murders brings together twenty-eight murderous tales, some which were little known outside the county and others which made national headlines. Herefordshire was home to one of Britain’s most infamous murderers, Major Herbert Rowse Armstrong, who, in 1921, poisoned his wife and attempted to poison a fellow solicitor in Hay-on-Wye. However, the county has also experienced many lesser known murders. They include the case of two-year-old Walter Frederick Steers, brutally killed in Little Hereford in 1891; eighty-seven-year-old Phillip Ballard, who died at the hands of two would-be burglars in Tupsley in 1887; Jane Haywood, murdered by her husband near Leominster in 1903; and the shooting of two sisters at Burghill Court, near Hereford, by their butler in 1926. Nicola Sly’s carefully researched and enthralling text will appeal to everyone interested in the shady side of Herefordshire’s history.

The business of death can be seriously absurd, and nothing illustrates this better than these gruesome true tales. This gory compendium details the frankly ridiculous ways in which a number of ill-fated unfortunates met (or failed to meet) their maker at the hands of lamentably inept executioners. With black and white illustrations, this book brings together a mixture of bungled executions, strange last requests and classic one-liners from medieval times to the present day.

It is Easter Day, and a body hangs crucified on a tree. Unlike the Master whom Tobias serves, it will not rise from the dead. Naked except for a loincloth and a crown of thorns, the victim is unrecognisable, his face bludgeoned to a pulp.

This book is open access under a CC BY 4.0 license This book explores the magical and medical history of executions from the eighteenth to the early twentieth century by looking at the afterlife potency of criminal corpses, the healing activities of the executioner, and the magic of the gallows site. The use of corpses in medicine and magic has been recorded back into antiquity. The lacerated bodies of Roman gladiators were used as a source of curative blood, for instance. In early modern Europe, a great trade opened up in ancient Egyptian mummies and the fat of executed criminals, plundered as medicinal cure-alls. However, this is the first book to consider the demand for the blood of the executed, the desire for human fat, the resort to the hanged man’s hand, and the trade in hanging rope in the modern era. It ends by look at the spiritual afterlife of dead criminals.

"A few weeks before the outbreak of the infamous 'Ripper' murders in 1888 Inspector Samuel Ravenscroft of the Whitechapel Constabulary is sent to the peaceful county town of Worcester to investigate the unexpected disappearance of the cathedral librarian and the priceless medieval manuscript known as the Whisperie. Aided by his former colleague, Constable Tom Crabb, Ravenscroft soon encounters a dark world of murder, lies and deceit within the walls of the ancient cathedral, and gradually uncovers an unsolved mystery dating back nearly forty years." "Meanwhile in London, events are nearing a dramatic climax as the mysterious woman in black attempts to gain her revenge in the darkened alleyways of Whitechapel." "It is not long before the two contrasting worlds of Worcester and Whitechapel become intertwined in unsettling and frightening ways."--BOOK JACKET.

A CAPTIVATING HISTORICAL MURDER MYSTERY SET IN VICTORIAN ENGLAND This is a revised and updated edition of THE MALVERN MURDERS. Before Jack the Ripper terrorized London, Police Inspector Samuel Ravenscroft patrolled the grimy streets of Whitechapel - but he's no Inspector Abberline. Malvern, 1887. Clever and hard-working, Ravenscroft nonetheless has the worst record in the force. He lets a murderer escape during a chase and is banished to the spa town of Malvern for a water treatment to cure his asthma. MURDER FOLLOWS THE INSPECTOR Ravenscroft accepts a dinner invitation from a new acquaintance, Jabez Pitzer. Before the dinner gong can sound, the maid finds Pitzer slumped over his desk - dead. Ravenscroft sees two glasses on a small side table. One has a powdery residue at the bottom and the faint smell of bitter almonds. A BODY IN THE LIBRARY Ravenscroft immediately recognizes the signs - Pitzer has been poisoned. But the local authorities are reluctant to believe there is a murderer in Malvern. He may be recovering his strength, but Ravenscroft has all his wits intact. He finds himself pulled into the investigation. Hungry to prove himself, Ravenscroft is determined to solve the case. But the bodies mount up. Someone is killing local luminaries. WHO WILL BE NEXT? A mysterious woman in black was witnessed speaking to each of the victims. Who is she and why does death seem to follow her? And does a local cartel of businessmen have anything to do with it? RAVENSCROFT IS OUT OF THE SMOKE BUT MALVERN HAS ITS OWN DEADLY FIRES THE MALVERN MURDERS is packed with delicious dialogue, sly humour and Victorian atmosphere. Perfect for fans of M.R.C. Kasasian, E.S. Thomson, Oscar De Muriel and Karen Charlton. MEET THE DETECTIVE Inspector Samuel Ravenscroft, unmarried and over forty, is a detective in the Whitechapel branch of the Metropolitan Police. Painfully asthmatic, he is often overlooked by his superiors in favour of his pushier colleagues. But Ravenscroft is keen to prove himself and strives to overcome his physical limitations. His tools are forthright questioning, close examination of the evidence and personal intuition. He often finds that the solution to many crimes is buried deep in the past. With his trusty Bradshaw, Ravenscroft and his colleague Constable Tom Crabb, travel around the Three Counties, overlooked by the Malvern Hills, bringing criminals to justice. KERRY TOMBS was born near Birmingham, but grew up in various locations in north Worcestershire. After a career teaching in both England and Australia, he moved to Malvern in 1982, where he became a local genealogist, lecturer and bookseller. WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT KERRY TOMBS "I found this story very absorbing and hard to put down." Berys "Kerry Tombs knows how to keep your interest until the very end." Delin "Another great book in the series. The author kept you guessing the entire time." Jerry INSPECTOR RAVENSCROFT DETECTIVE MYSTERIES SERIES Book 1: The Malvern Murders Book 2: The Worcester Whisperers Book 3: The Ledbury Lamplighters Book 4: The Tewkesbury Tomb* Book 5: The Droitwich Deceivers* Book 6: The Pershore Poisoners* Book 7: The Upton Undertakers* Book 8: The Herefordshire Hangman* Book 9: The Bromsgrove Bookseller* * Coming soon

By the New York Times bestselling author of The Bone Clocks and Cloud Atlas | Longlisted for the Man Booker Prize Selected by Time as One of the Ten Best Books of the Year | A New York Times Notable Book | Named One of the Best Books of the Year by The Washington Post Book World, The Christian Science Monitor, Rocky Mountain News, and Kirkus Reviews | A Los Angeles Times Book Prize Finalist | Winner of the ALA Alex Award | Finalist for the Costa Novel Award From award-winning writer David Mitchell comes a sinewy, meditative novel of boyhood on the cusp of adulthood and the old on the cusp of the new. Black Swan Green tracks a single year in what is, for thirteen-year-old Jason Taylor, the sleepiest village in muddiest Worcestershire in a dying Cold War England, 1982. But the thirteen chapters, each a short story in its own right, create an exquisitely observed world that is anything but sleepy. A world of Kissingeresque realpolitik enacted in boys’ games on a frozen lake; of “nightcreeping” through the summer backyards of strangers; of the tabloid-fueled thrills of the Falklands War and its human toll; of the cruel, luscious Dawn Madden and her power-hungry boyfriend, Ross Wilcox; of a certain Madame Eva van Outryve de Crommelynck, an elderly bohemian emigré who is both more and less than she appears; of Jason’s search to replace his dead grandfather’s irreplaceable smashed watch before the crime is discovered; of first cigarettes, first kisses, first Duran Duran LPs, and first deaths; of Margaret Thatcher’s recession; of Gypsies camping in the woods and the hysteria they inspire; and, even closer to home, of a slow-motion divorce in four seasons. Pointed, funny, profound, left-field, elegiac, and painted with the stuff of life, Black Swan Green is David Mitchell’s subtlest and most effective achievement to date. Praise for Black Swan Green “[David Mitchell has created] one of the most endearing, smart, and funny young narrators ever to rise up from the pages of a novel. . . . The always fresh and brilliant writing will carry readers back to their own childhoods. . . . This enchanting novel makes us remember exactly what it was like.”—The Boston Globe “[David Mitchell is a] prodigiously daring and imaginative young writer. . . . As in the works of Thomas Pynchon and Herman Melville, one feels the roof of the narrative lifted off and oneself in thrall.”—Time