In the sweltering heat of August 1891, a chilling tale of passion and murder unfolded in Victorian England. While passengers aboard the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company’s SS May Day enjoyed their journey across the Irish Sea, little did they know that among them walked a man whose passion and emotions had transformed him from a respected steward into a killer.
Liverpool’s maritime community was shaken to its core when news of the crime broke. What started as a supposed practical joke soon captured the attention of one of Scotland Yard’s most celebrated detectives.
A Gruesome Package
In its August 9, 1891 edition, Britain’s Daily Chronicle newspaper ran a rather macabre article. It reported that:
Miss Susan Cushing, living at Cross Street, Croydon, has been made the victim of what must be regarded as a peculiarly revolting practical joke unless some more sinister meaning should prove to be attached to the incident. At two o’clock yesterday afternoon a small packet, wrapped in brown paper, was handed in by the postman. A cardboard box was inside, which was filled with coarse salt. On emptying this, Miss Cushing was horrified to find two human ears, apparently quite freshly severed. The box had been sent by parcel post from Belfast upon the morning before. There is no indication as to the sender, and the matter is the more mysterious as Miss Cushing, who is a maiden lady of fifty, has led a most retired life, and has so few acquaintances or correspondents that it is a rare event for her to receive anything through the post. Some years ago, however, when she resided at Penge, she let apartments in her house to three young medical students, whom she was obliged to get rid of on account of their noisy and irregular habits. The police are of opinion that this outrage may have been perpetrated upon Miss Cushing by these youths, who owed her a grudge and who hoped to frighten her by sending her these relics of the dissecting-rooms. Some probability is lent to the theory by the fact that one of these students came from the north of Ireland, and, to the best of Miss Cushing’s belief, from Belfast. In the meantime, the matter is being actively investigated, Mr. Lestrade, one of the very smartest of our detective officers, being in charge of the case.
Inspector Lestrade moved quickly and interviewed Susan Cushing at her home. Upon inspecting the severed ears, he quickly noted that they weren’t a pair. This seemingly gave credence to the idea that they came from a dissecting room. However, a colleague observed that the ears were fresh and the absence of carbolic or rectified spirits dispelled the notion that they came from a medical facility.
This was certainly not a practical joke. Lestrade and his colleagues were almost certainly dealing with the murder of two people: one man and one woman.
A Suspect Emerges
The investigation soon identified a suspect in the mystery: a steward for the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company named James Browner. He’d worked aboard the SS May Day for some time, having previously served on the South American Line’s SS A.C. Smith. A native of Liverpool, he’d gone to sea at a young age like many men from that city. Described as “a big, powerful chap, clean-shaven, and very swarthy,” Browner reportedly liked his liquor.
It transpired that Browner married Susan Cushing’s younger sister, Mary. A photo of the couple survives today in the Diogenes Club’s archives. Mary Cushing reportedly helped her beau to stop drinking, and he became a teetotaler. After the two were married, James Browner left the South American Line to be able to spend more time with his new bride. His new ship, the SS May Day, made seven-day sailings to Belfast, Dublin, and Waterford before heading back to Liverpool.
On the afternoon of August 9, 1891, Inspector Algar of the Liverpool City Police determined that Mary Browner hadn’t been seen for at least three days. Neighbors believed that she’d gone south to visit her relatives in Croydon. Inspector Algar passed this fact along to the investigators in London.
Inspector Lestrade arrested James Browner on suspicion of murder aboard the May Day on August 10, 1891. As he described:
I went down to the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m., and boarded the S.S. May Day, belonging to the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company. On inquiry, I found that there was a steward on board of the name of James Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve him of his duties. On descending to his berth, I found him seated upon a chest with his head sunk upon his hands, rocking himself to and fro.
James Browner put up no resistance and was led away without incident. Inspector Lestrade noted that “he seemed to have no heart in him.”
A Crime of Passion
At the police station, the steward made a full confession to the murder of Mary Browner and her lover, a sailor named Alec Fairbairn. He also blamed his meddling sister-in-law, Sarah Cushing, for turning his wife against him due to her unrequited love towards him. Browner also started drinking again during this time.
Browner described the deed:
It was in this way. We had gone on the May Day for a round voyage of seven days, but a hogshead got loose and started one of our plates, so that we had to put back into port for twelve hours. I left the ship and came home, thinking what a surprise it would be for my wife, and hoping that maybe she would be glad to see me so soon. The thought was in my head as I turned into my own street, and at that moment a cab passed me, and there she was, sitting by the side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and laughing, with never a thought for me as I stood watching them from the footpath.
I tell you, and I give you my word for it, that from that moment I was not my own master, and it is all like a dim dream when I look back on it. I had been drinking hard of late, and the two things together fairly turned my brain. There’s something throbbing in my head now, like a docker’s hammer, but that morning I seemed to have all Niagara whizzing and buzzing in my ears.
Well, I took to my heels, and I ran after the cab. I had a heavy oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the first; but as I ran I got cunning, too, and hung back a little to see them without being seen. They pulled up soon at the railway station. There was a good crowd round the booking-office, so I got quite close to them without being seen. They took tickets for New Brighton. So did I, but I got in three carriages behind them. When we reached it they walked along the Parade, and I was never more than a hundred yards from them. At last I saw them hire a boat and start for a row, for it was a very hot day, and they thought, no doubt, that it would be cooler on the water.
It was just as if they had been given into my hands. There was a bit of a haze, and you could not see more than a few hundred yards. I hired a boat for myself, and I pulled after them. I could see the blur of their craft, but they were going nearly as fast as I, and they must have been a long mile from the shore before I caught them up. The haze was like a curtain all round us, and there were we three in the middle of it. My God, shall I ever forget their faces when they saw who was in the boat that was closing in upon them? She screamed out. He swore like a madman and jabbed at me with an oar, for he must have seen death in my eyes. I got past it and got one in with my stick that crushed his head like an egg. I would have spared her, perhaps, for all my madness, but she threw her arms round him, crying out to him, and calling him “Alec.” I struck again, and she lay stretched beside him. I was like a wild beast then that had tasted blood. If Sarah had been there, by the Lord, she should have joined them. I pulled out my knife, and–well, there! I’ve said enough. It gave me a kind of savage joy when I thought how Sarah would feel when she had such signs as these of what her meddling had brought about. Then I tied the bodies into the boat, stove a plank, and stood by until they had sunk. I knew very well that the owner would think that they had lost their bearings in the haze, and had drifted off out to sea. I cleaned myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what had passed. That night I made up the packet for Sarah Cushing, and next day I sent it from Belfast.
As it happened, however, Browner addressed his grisly package to “Miss S. Cushing.” Not realizing that Sarah had moved out of her older sister’s house in Croydon, it was mistakenly opened by Susan Cushing instead. The tarred twine he used indicated to Scotland Yard that someone in the maritime trade was likely involved.
James Browner went on trial for the murders. Liverpool was aghast at the crime, but many sympathized with the steward at the same time. All of Merseyside followed the trial. Iltimately, the jury found Browner not guilty due to “temporary insanity.” He was released and resumed working for the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company aboard the SS Conqueror.
But he couldn’t live down his reputation as the “Killer Steward.” In addition, Browner’s guilty conscience constantly plagued him. As he noted in his confession:
I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two faces staring at me–staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow.
Ultimately, James Browner couldn’t bear it. He committed suicide on January 6, 1892 by jumping overboard as the Conqueror crossed the Irish Sea.
The Game
The above narrative was recorded extensively by Dr. J.H. Watson in January 1893. It first appeared under the title “The Adventure of the Cardboard Box” in The Strand Magazine in the United Kingdom. It appeared shortly thereafter in Harper’s Weekly in the United States.
Yes, all of this is based off the classic Sherlock Holmes story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. April Fools!
Last year, I worked my way through Sherlock Holmes: The Definitive Audio Collection narrated by the recently-knighted Sir Stephen Fry. To say that I loved it would be an understatement! It also got me into the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes series. Needless to say, the images that appear in this post are doctored images of Ciarán Hinds, Lucy Whybrow, and Edward Hardwicke.
In one of his introductions, Fry mentions something called the Game. What is the Game, you ask? Basically, Sherlockians treat Holmes and Watson as real people and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s writings of their adventures as fact. Countless articles have appeared over the years detailing the supposedly real exploits of these two famous literary characters. It was from this mentality that I approached this blog post.
I also wanted to do something for April Fools’ Day that was on par with my post about the Antonia Graza last year. Hopefully you all enjoyed it!
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