Dr. Thomas Neill Cream (27 May 1850 – 15 November 1892), also known as the Lambeth Poisoner, was a Scottish-born serial killer, who claimed his first proven victims in the United States and the rest in England, and possibly others in Canada and Scotland. Cream, who poisoned his victims, was executed after his attempts to frame others for his crimes brought him to the attention of London police.
 

 


Unsubstantiated rumours suggested his last words as he was being hanged were a confession that he was Jack the Ripper—even though he was in prison at the time of the Ripper murders.

Early life

Born in Glasgow, Cream was raised outside Quebec City, Canada, after his family moved there in 1854. He attended McGill University in Montreal and went to study medicine at St Thomas's Hospital Medical School, London in 1876; he had an added incentive for crossing the Atlantic to England, since he had just married Flora Brooks, whom he had impregnated and almost killed while aborting the baby: the bride's family forced him to the church at gunpoint.Flora died, apparently of consumption, in 1877, a death for which he would later be blamed.    Murder in Ontario   Cream went to London in 1876 to study at St. Thomas' Hospital and later qualified as a physician and surgeon in Edinburgh in 1878. He then returned to Canada to practise in London, Ontario. In August 1879 Kate Gardener, a woman with whom he was alleged to have had an affair, was found dead in an alleyway behind Cream's office, pregnant and poisoned by chloroform. Cream claimed that she had been made pregnant by a prominent local businessman but then, after being accused of both murder and blackmail, fled to the United States.    Murder in Chicago   Cream established a medical practice not far from the red-light district in Chicago, offering illegal abortions to prostitutes. He was investigated in August 1880 after the death of Mary Anne Faulkner, a woman on whom he had allegedly operated, but he escaped prosecution due to lack of evidence.

In December 1880 another patient, Miss Stack, died after treatment by Cream, and he subsequently attempted to blackmail a pharmacist who had made up the prescription.   On 14 July 1881, Daniel Stott died of strychnine poisoning at his home in Boone County, Illinois, after Cream supplied him with an alleged remedy for epilepsy.   The death was attributed to natural causes, but Cream wrote to the coroner blaming the pharmacist for the death after again attempting blackmail. Cream was arrested, along with Mrs. Julia A. (Abbey) Stott, who had become Cream's mistress and procured poison from Cream to do away with her husband. She turned state's evidence to avoid jail, laying the blame on Cream, which left Cream to face a murder conviction on his own. He was sentenced to life imprisonment in Joliet Prison. One night unknown persons erected a tombstone at Mr. Stott's grave which read,  

Daniel Stott Died June 12, 1881 Aged 61 Years, poisoned by his wife and Dr. Cream.   Cream was released in July 1891 when Governor Joseph W. Fifer commuted his sentence after his brother pleaded for leniency, allegedly also bribing the authorities.    London   Using money inherited from his father, who had died in 1887, Cream sailed for England, arriving in Liverpool on 1 October 1891. He went to London and settled into lodgings at 103 Lambeth Palace Road. Victorian London was the centre of the vast and wealthy British Empire, but places such as Lambeth were ridden with poverty, petty crime and prostitution.   On 13 October 1891, Ellen "Nellie" Donworth, a 19-year-old prostitute, accepted a drink from Cream. She was severely ill the next day and died on 16 October from strychnine poisoning. During her inquest Cream wrote to the coroner offering to name the murderer in return for a £300,000 reward. He also wrote to W. F. D. Smith, owner of the W H Smith bookstalls, accusing him of the murder and demanding money for his silence.   On 20 October, Cream met with a 27-year-old prostitute named Matilda Clover. She became ill and died the next morning; her death was at first attributed to her alcoholism.   On 2 April 1892, after a vacation in Canada, Cream was back in London where he attempted to poison Lou Harvey (née Louise Harris) who, being suspicious of him, pretended to swallow the pills he had given her. She secretly disposed of them by throwing them off a bridge into the River Thames.   On 11 April, Cream met two prostitutes, Alice Marsh, 21, and Emma Shrivell, 18, and talked his way into their flat where he offered them bottles of Guinness. Cream left before the strychnine he had added to the drinks took effect. Both women died in agony.    Capture   The motivation for the series of poisonings has never really been settled. It has generally been assumed that Cream was a sadist who enjoyed the thought of the agonies of his victims (even if he was not physically present to witness these). However, Cream was always greedy: from the start of the series of crimes Cream wrote blackmail notes to prominent people; and the poisoning of his one known male victim, Daniel Stott, was in the hopes that Stott's wealthy widow would now share the deceased's estate with him.   Only three of these are known, but there may have been others who were approached. First was Frederick Smith the son of the former First Lord of the Admiralty and member of the House of Commons William Henry Smith. Fred Smith had just been elected to the seat in the House of Commons his father had held for decades, and he received a letter accusing him of poisoning Ellen Donworth. There was a demand for the hiring of an "attorney" in order to prevent Smith being ruined by release of the evidence. Smith sent the letter to Scotland Yard. Next Mabel, Countess Russell, in the middle of a messy series of civil actions against the Earl Russell that would culminate in a controversial divorce in 1900, received a letter that her estranged husband was responsible for the poisoning and evidence of this could be purchased. This was a variant on the normal blackmail notes, for if it had been true the Countess would have been overjoyed to have had such information in her hands. She claimed she showed the letter to her solicitor Sir George Henry Lewis but after he returned it she lost it. There may be a chance she actually met Cream and had to return the letter to him, but nothing came of his "evidence" against the Earl. Finally Cream wrote a note to the noted physician Dr. (later Sir) William Broadbent. The note accused Broadbent of poisoning Matilda Clover. Broadbent sent his letter to Scotland Yard.  

Cream's downfall came through an attempt to frame two respectable and innocent doctors. He wrote to the police accusing these fellow doctors of killing several women, including Matilda Clover. Not only did the police quickly determine the innocence of those accused, but they also realized that there was something significant within the accusations made by the anonymous letter-writer: He had referred to the murder of Matilda Clover. In fact, Clover's death had been noted as natural causes, related to her drinking. The police quickly realised that the false accuser who had written the letter was the serial killer now referred to in the newspapers as the 'Lambeth Poisoner'.   Not long afterwards, Cream met a policeman from New York City who was visiting London. The policeman had heard of the Lambeth Poisoner, and Cream gave him a brief tour of where the various victims had lived. The American lawman happened to mention it to a British policeman who found Cream's detailed knowledge of the case suspicious.   The police at Scotland Yard put Cream under surveillance, soon discovering his habit of visiting prostitutes. They also contacted police in the United States and learned of their suspect's conviction for a murder by poison in 1881.   On 13 July 1892, Cream was charged with murdering Matilda Clover. From the start he insisted he was only Dr. Thomas Neill, not Dr. Thomas Neill Cream, and the newspapers usually referred to him as Dr. Neill in their coverage of the proceedings. His trial lasted from 17 to 21 October that year. He was convicted and sentenced to death.   Less than a month after his conviction, on 15 November, Dr Thomas Neill Cream was hanged on the gallows at Newgate Prison by James Billington. As was customary with all executed criminals, his body was buried the same day in an unmarked grave within the prison walls.  

 "I am Jack The..."

Further information: Jack the Ripper suspects   Billington claimed that Cream's last words on the scaffold were "I am Jack The..." Billington promoted this alleged incident as proof that he was responsible for executing the notorious Victorian serial killer Jack the Ripper. These claims remain unsubstantiated, as police officials and others who attended the execution made no mention of any such event. Records show Cream was in prison at the time of the last three Ripper murders in 1888. As he was still imprisoned at the time of the Ripper murders, most authorities consider it impossible for him to be the culprit. However, Donald Bell suggested that he could have bribed officials and left the prison before his official release, and Sir Edward Marshall-Hall suspected that his prison term may have been served by a look-alike in his place. Such notions are unlikely, and contradict evidence given by the Illinois authorities, newspapers of the time, Cream's solicitors, Cream's family and Cream himself.

 

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The Ghosts of Glanmore Never Sleep, Belleville, Ontario

 

 

 

Written by Administrator   

Sunday, 17 March 2013 05:56

Tucked away off the beaten track is one of Ontario's oldest and most beautiful, small cities with such a fantastical and intriguing history that it would rival that of many of Europe's oldest cities. The small city wraps itself around the old limestone-bedded, snaking Moira River with one of the oldest, still-standing, limestone mills, the mill itself the centre upon which the settlement grew.   Named after Lady Arabella Gore, wife of Sir Francis Gore, after their visit to the small settlement in 1816, Belleville boasts some of the finest architectural beauties to be found in the province of Ontario. One of these timeless treasures rests in the area known as the 'Old East Hill' of Belleville. Glanmore sits aloof and untouchable amidst century old trees and fine Victorian homes.

Built of a subdued greying, brownish-yellow brick and being of a 2nd Empire architectural style totally unique unto itself, the house appears alive with the spirits of the past and a beating heart all it's own standing testament to an eccentric and lively time in Canada's history.   Built in 1882-1883 for the prosperous banker, J.P.C. Phillips and his wife Harriet, it remained in the same family for three generations before being sold and subsequently being turned into a museum.

Phillipa Faulkner, an artist who was born in the house, is purported to have experienced numerous supernatural occurrences during her days spent living there. The spirit of Harriet Phillips, herself, is said to still remain walking the halls and frequenting the cavernous victorian rooms of the fine old mansion.

Phillipa had witnessed the piano in the drawing room play of it's own accord and doors that had opened and closed with no visible human entity in sight. She sensed that the spirit behind these occurrences was her Grandmother, Harriet Phillips.

In 1962 Phillipa engaged a Roman Catholic Priest to come into the home and exorcise the troubled spirits who wandered the grand old Belleville mansion. Family accounts written by Anne Burrows Faulkner, Phillipa's daughter, state that the supernatural occurrences seemed to abate somewhat after that time period, however Harriet's restless spirit never completely left the beautiful old home she had so steadfastly loved.

Glanmore National Historic Site is now open to the public  , and houses a magnificent collection of period antiques and art, many of them original to the home.

On my numerous visits to the house, I always feel a certain 'unease' as I walk around the creaking, old rooms and hallways.

There is a strong sense of loneliness and abandonment that seeps into one's pores with a heavy foreboding as one walks from room to room.

 In many areas of the home, I've sensed an invisible presence nearby as it observes the comings and goings of the visitors to the house.   As happy as I am to bring visiting friends and relatives on a tour of the stately Victorian home, I experience a great relief when it is time to leave. The house is beautiful and certainly a timeless Canadian Historic treasure, however it exists in another time and place and hastens to remind you to never leave go of that oppressive and heavy fact.

 Upon leaving and re-entering the sparkling, sunlit air, you step back into the present and feel a great sadness for the house and for those who lived there in the past and for some reason, were never able to leave.

 

Caught in a time warp of their own volition, they serve the gracious home to this day, and make certain it will always remain just as it was over one hundred years ago.

 

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