Was an innocent man blamed for the massacre of the circus parade? A new book tells everyone | books | entertainment

A British national newspaper had already published a shocking photo of Herbert wielding a severed ax, and news of his violent crime made headlines as far away as the United States.

“Lord George Sanger Slain: Well-known English Circus Owner Killed by a Mad Clerk,” New York Times headline read on November 29, 1911.

Cooper, a fugitive since the alleged ax attack on his boss’s famous home in Finsbury Park, decided to end his life before the inevitable trial, which could have led to his death at the gallows.

“This was much more than just killing a man like Jerry Cottle or David Copperfield,” says Carl Shaw, author of a new book on the life and death of Lord George. “This guy was a brand. There was no English town or village of over 200 where his circus hadn’t performed during his touring years.

“He was undoubtedly one of the most famous men in Britain at the time of his death – and for decades before that.”

Karl’s upcoming book casts serious doubt on whether Cooper killed a one-time star whose entertainment achievements are almost forgotten.

The Victorian era was the heyday of the circus as a major attraction in British villages, towns and cities. Sanger, who never learned to read and write properly, was the self-proclaimed “lord” of everything he explored at the height of the industry.

Lord Sanger, who had performed on many occasions for Queen Victoria, had spent his whole life working in the circus, first under the leadership of his father John, and slowly rose to the top with increasingly extravagant performances.

He toured the country in the summer months, and in the winter he performed in the long run since the demolition of the Astley Coliseum on what is now the site of St Thomas’ Hospital in London.

Sanger married a lion tamer named Eileen who performed in his shows and was a huge caravan of lions, tigers, bears, elephants, acrobats, horses and clowns.

It would routinely block the narrow pre-industrial lanes and byways of England as it relentlessly toured for nine months each year. By 1911, George was 85 years old and remained mostly on his farm in Finchley, keeping only a few loyal staff and horses and his mental faculties waned.

“What used to happen to George will be diagnosed as dementia these days,” Carl says. “He was totally uncountable, never paid any taxes, and was simply picking up bundles of banknotes lying around the house to pay people or give to strangers.

“It is inevitable that this lack of financial knowledge will eventually lead to problems.”

Known in the circus world for being a remarkably long storyteller of his life, Sanger’s volatile character became quite eccentric in his later years as he constantly played musical chairs with his staff, treating one of them as a son for a few months before they did. It falls out of favor and is replaced by another.

It was the typical false desertion of a single employee, Herbert Cooper, who began the chain of events that would end with the brutal death of England’s most famous showman.

After a long stint at Sanger, Herbert, after George was accused of stealing £50, was fired from the farm and sent to live in an outbuilding.

Clan Sanger stated after the murder, this disapproval, along with Cooper’s supposedly aggressive character, made it clear that, in a fit of jealousy, he killed his boss in a violent rage.

Cooper’s subsequent suicide appears to have made this the simplest case for the police.

However, Cooper’s suicide note, exposed by Shaw in the National Archives, reveals the man’s mind in a more muddled state than one might suppose.

The message to his father begins, “Something happened on the farm.” “I don’t remember ever doing that—I can only remember in my mind someone speaking. I seem to have come to my senses. No one knows what I’ve been through.”

His mental state strongly indicates a man who has fallen into madness. Although not denied, if Cooper had been convicted of murder while he was insane by a jury verdict, Cooper could have been spared the death penalty.

But the mystery surrounding the murder deepens with the knowledge (which the police ignored at the time) that young Herbert had an affair with the wife of fellow farmer Harry Austin.

“I think it’s very likely that framing Cooper in the murder was an act of revenge by Harry because Herbert slept with his wife,” Karl suggests. “The police claimed they didn’t see the big chopping ax when they first searched the house. This is a huge thing that would be absolutely impossible to miss.

“So the ax must have been put there after the event, probably by Harry, so that he and the Sanger family could go to the Met with a clear and tied story that set Herbert as the murderer.”

Did Cooper kill Lord George? Was he killed with an ax at all?

Evidence that Shaw re-examined strongly points to the fact that there was no Ax involved in the murder and that George may have died by more innocent means.

“The supposed wound that killed George doesn’t quite fit in being an ax wound at all – which would have nearly cut off his head,” Karl says.

“This was a bruise that could have been caused simply by George knocking his head on a table. It seems likely that he simply tried to break up a fight between Harry and Harry and fell in the process.”

However, pathologist Dr. Bernard Spilsbury has discarded any alternative theories of Cooper being obsessed with the axe. A household name after his role in Dr. Crippen’s case, Spillsbury’s word was considered unquestioned by jurors across England.

And it was his report on the Sanger case that sealed Herbert’s legacy as an axe-killer for decades to come.

However, towards the end of his long career, he began to question many of Spillsbury’s assertions and conclusions regarding the murder cases.

Spilsbury gassed his life in his laboratory in 1947. With 111 years since the bloody events at Park Farm, the idea of ​​a definitive answer to what happened in the last minutes of Lord George’s life has become impossible. But, as Carl asserts, it appears that mistakes were made, confirmations were made prematurely, and police action was rudimentary at best in the case that killed one of Britain’s most beloved artists.

“It’s really shocking to find a case with so many loopholes,” Karl says.

“I have no doubt that the only thing Herbert Cooper was guilty of was sleeping with another man’s wife.

“He took the blame for that and I found it was over 100 years late. What is certain for me is that this man does not deserve to die.”