 Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. Welcome Weirdos, I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. If you're new here, welcome to the podcast and be sure to subscribe so you don't miss future episodes. If you're already a Weirdo, please share the podcast with others. Doing so helps make it possible for me to keep creating episodes as often as I do. Coming up in this episode... Born into wealth, then orphaned, then forced to marry at the age of 14, losing all control of her money and future, Catherine Ferris did what any teenaged girl in her position would do. She became a ruthless highway robber that terrorized local villages. People in Gloucester, Massachusetts were reporting very bizarre things in the summer of 1692. They heard the march of troops despite the war having ended 20 years earlier. They saw what they claimed was a human scalp and the shape of a Native American's bow when looking at the face of the moon. But that was only the appetizer of what would come that horrifying summer of paranormal activity. Seeing a deceased loved one, a soft glowing light, a warm feeling of comfort and love. People have reported seeing many of these types of things when near death. And while some might want to blame it on the brains neurons misfiring or even rapid firing towards the end of someone's life, how does that explain that the majority of these reports are so similar? In 1849, young Cornelius Ahern was only 19 years old and his chosen occupation was pickpocketing. It's likely we never would have heard about him except for the fact that he once attempted and failed to pick the pocket of one particular writer who would one day become famous, Charles Dickens. But first, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy has been surrounded by controversy and conspiracy theories since the day of his death. The magic bullet theory, Leharve Aswalt was or was not the lone gunman. Was there someone in the grassy knoll? Was there a government conspiracy to have Kennedy killed? But there's another mystery most documentaries and books don't cover. What about Kennedy's missing brain? We begin with that story. While listening, be sure to check out the Weird Darkness website. At WeirdDarkness.com you can sign up for the newsletter to win monthly prizes, find paranormal and horror audiobooks I've narrated, watch old horror movies for free, plus you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression or dark thoughts. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights and come with me into the Weird Darkness. The assassination of President John F. Kennedy has been surrounded by controversy and conspiracy theories since the day of his death. Most everyone agrees that JFK died on November 22, 1963 in Dallas, Texas. And that's about all historians and theorists agree on. Various people and committees have debated for decades about fundamental questions such as how many shooters were involved, why the President's route was changed at the last minute, the political leanings of the assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, and the reason Jack Ruby killed Oswald. But what about JFK's brain? Its mind-boggling disappearance is yet another great mystery surrounding the assassination. The American public now seems to believe that we do not know everything about the assassination. The Warren Commission came to the conclusion that Oswald was the lone assassin and there were no others involved. At that time, in 1964, surveys seemed to indicate that the majority of Americans believed the commission's findings, but not anymore. A 1998 CBS News investigation showed that 76% of Americans believed there has been significant information withheld that might prove there was some kind of conspiracy that took place. Later, in 2013, 59% of respondents to a poll stated that they thought that Oswald was not the only assassin of JFK. That same year, a Gallup poll showed that the number of people who believed that some kind of conspiracy was involved was more than 60%. Every the most bizarre element in an admittedly bizarre series of events took place both at and after JFK's official autopsy. In 1978, a government organization called the House Assassination Committee published findings that stated that JFK's brain was missing. Some of the committee called for a thorough investigation. How could something like JFK's brain go missing? To delve further, we need to go back to the facts that we know about the movements of his brain after the assassination. First off, we know that the second bullet went through Kennedy's skull. At that point, much brain matter ejected and splattered around the car in which he was riding. Doctors removed the remaining part of JFK's brain during the autopsy. This is where the mystery starts. Some witnesses that were supposedly at the hospital state that JFK's wife Jackie was seen holding a part of her husband's brain, but it's not known what eventually happened to it. During the course of the autopsy, doctors removed the brain and put it into a metal box. Subsequently, the Secret Service stashed the box in the White House. In 1965, for reasons not fully understood, JFK's brother Robert ordered the removal of JFK's brain from the White House and had it put into the National Archives. But the following year, an inventory of the archive's materials showed the JFK's brain was missing. An investigation was started and although approximately 40 people were interrogated, the brain section was not to be found, hence the mystery continued. Subsequent searches proved fruitless. But a recent book by historian James L. Swanson claims to know the truth. According to Swanson, JFK's brain was actually stolen by JFK's brother Robert in an attempt to conceal the nature of the president's poor health and his drug history. Swanson said that JFK was on multiple medications for pain and there was a possibility that the brain could provide evidence that Oswald was not the sole shooter. So Robert Kennedy removed the brain matter from the National Archives so that tests on it could not point to dangerous drug use or conflicts in the official facts of the assassination. Swanson says that his brain tissue would probably not prove anything about JFK's medical conditions or drug use. Swanson claims that JFK's brain was not buried with his body but says he does not know the brain's current location. Did someone move it from the Archives? Was it destroyed? Could someone have buried it apart from his body? The missing brain material removed during the autopsy is just one more topic that keeps assassination conspiracy theorists eager to question the facts surrounding one of the major international events of the 20th century. If you happen to pass through with Hampstead Hertfordshire, you might notice a pub doing business under the name Wicked Lady. The pub is named after the legend of one known by the same name, a female highway robber who terrorized the area 400 years ago. According to the legend, the Wicked Lady was a local noblewoman named Catherine Ferris, who under the cover of night dressed as a man and robbed and terrorized locals. Catherine was born in 1634 to a family of fervent protestants who had profited from the favor of Henry VIII and Edward VI. The family was granted extensive properties in Hertfordshire, including several manor houses. However, Catherine's father, Knight and Ferris, died in 1640, shortly followed by her grandfather. Catherine was the sole heir to her family's fortune, as her only brother had died young. This meant that at the age of six, Catherine became an heiress to a great fortune. Whilst her mother quickly remarried, she also died two years later after the family joined King Charles I at his base in Oxford upon the outbreak of the Civil War. Several years into the Civil War, her stepfather was taken prisoner, resulting in Catherine being made a ward of the court. She was sent to live with her stepfather's sister. The Fanshawe family, who took her into their care, were also committed royalists, and under parliamentary rule they had their assets cut, assets which were already drained by contributing to the royalist cause. This meant that Catherine was in a precarious position. With no family of her own around her, she was married at the age of 14 to her stepfather's nephew, who was only 16 himself, in a bid to combine the two family's fortunes. It didn't take long for her husband, who was now in control of her assets under the laws of the time, to sell off many of her properties. One such property was Marquette Sell, an old priory which had been converted into a house in the 16th century. Under the legend of the wicked lady, it is sometime during this period that Catherine decided to take up the mantle of Highway Robber, perhaps as a way to rebuild her family's lost fortune or as a way to regain some autonomy after years of being passed around for her wealth. As her husband was absent a lot, it was easy for her to lead her double life. It wasn't unusual during this period for royalist supporters to turn to Highway Robbery, as many had been left destitute after the Civil War, just as Catherine and the Fanshawe were. It wasn't just Highway Robbery that's been attributed to Catherine with the burning of houses, slaughtering of livestock, and even the killing of a constable being blamed on her. Catherine died early at the age of 26 in 1660. As we have no records for the cause of Catherine's death, the legend has seized the opportunity to create a dramatic end for her. The persistent explanation for her death is that she was shot during a robbery gone wrong while she was on Noamansland Common in Whithamston, right next to where the modern-day pub bearing her name stands. The legend said that she died of her wounds whilst she was trying to ride back to her old family's property at Marquiette cell which had a secret staircase entry. Her body was found by her servants, still wearing her male Highwayman clothes, and they carried her home and buried her. In reality, whilst an excellent story, there is not much evidence to prove its truth. The upheaval of robbery and damage to property in the area at the time could be blamed on bans of brigands or the unrest during the Civil War, and there is no contemporary reference to Catherine's misdeeds. However, the legend persisted in local memory and it was fueled further in the 1800s when a secret chamber was discovered by workmen at Marquiette cell behind a false wall next to a chimney stack. The unknown circumstances of Catherine's death further lends questions to how she died, particularly as she was buried at St. Mary's Church in Ware and not in the Fanshawe family vault as may have been expected. Skepticism arises when looking at the geography of her supposed death. Noamansland is not actually particularly close to the Marquiette cell manor and the property had been sold by her husband's family five years prior to her death. There were some confirmed female Highway robbers during the 17th century and many who worked as ordinary robbers, often paired with a man, the woman would lure men into alleys with the promise of sex where their male partner would knock out the man and they would rob him. This was known as buttock and file. Female Highwaymen do appear frequently in literature of the following century, but these accounts are often sexualized and demonstrate male discomfort at the idea of powerful independent women. In the literature the women are either emphatically unwomanly or ultimately are brought back under control by a man. Mall Cut Purse featured in the second volume of Alexander Smith's A History of the Lives and Robberies of the Most Noted Highwaymen, Footpads, Shoplifts and Cheats 1714 is written in a fashion that constantly highlights her lack of feminine qualities. She would fight with boys and courageously beat them and worst of all she had a natural abhorrence to the tending of children to whom she ever had an averseness in her mind equal to the sterility and barrenness in her womb never to our best information being made a mother. Other women who appear in ballads include one featured in the female frolic. She would rob members of unpopular groups such as Quakers, thus satirizing these men's lack of masculinity and symbolic impotence against a woman. Ultimately though, the female highway robber comes up against a real man when she accidentally attempts to rob a fellow highwayman. He overpowers her, has his way with her, and thus she is brought back to her station as a submissive woman. Whilst female highwaymen did appear in popular literature, in reality there are very few confirmed cases of actual female highway robbers. In 1735, a man named Beatty published a piece in the Gentleman's magazine on female highwaymen, but even he only cites one case. A butcher was robbed in a very gallant manner by a woman well-mounted on sidesaddle and near Rumford in Essex. She presented a pistol to him and demanded his money. He, being amazed at her behavior, told her he did not know what she meant when a gentleman coming up told him he was a brute to deny the lady's request, and if he did not gratify her desire immediately he would shoot him through the head, so he gave her his watch and six guineas. Even in this case it appears that the woman may have been acting as a partner to a male highwayman who threatens the gentleman. One case of a female highwayman who did meet a grisly end in the 17th century was a woman named Joan Bracey. Her story is told in the Newgate Calendar, a biographical book about criminals whose executions had been announced in the original Newgate Calendar, a bulletin of executions. The calendar tells us that Joan was the daughter of a wealthy farmer in Northamptonshire who met a man named Edward Bracey around 1680. Edward's initial plan was to seduce Joan and then extract the large sum of money from her father for a marriage portion, as marriage was a common consequence of sex outside of wedlock during this time before abandoning both Joan and her father. However, Joan was wily herself and she agreed to rob her own father with Edward. The pair then traveled together, passing as husband and wife, and frequently robbed together on the highway. They were successful for four years and amassed a good fortune, but the fear of retribution made them decide to quit highway robbery and try to build a legitimate business as a way to live the rest of their lives in comfort. However, the inn they purchased quickly became a center of scandal after they continually robbed patrons and so they had to abandon it and return to their old ways. One rich young gentleman who had spent lots of money at their inn was the heir to an estate of around £100 a year, a significant sum of money at the time, and so they decided to extort the young man for the debts he still owed their inn. They blackmailed the young man to join Edward in robbing a rich tradesman who they knew was coming to Bristol with a large sum of money. The men were successful and managed to steal more than £100. After further extortion of the young gentleman, the pair made off with £1400 and continued to rob people on the highway with Joan dressing in men's clothes. Unfortunately for the couple, one robbery on the highway went wrong and Joan was caught and sent to Nottingham Jail. In 1685, she was executed at the age of 29. Edward managed to escape when Joan got caught and hid for a while, but one day whilst visiting an inn he was recognized by someone he had previously robbed. He was chased out of the inn by armed men where he managed to grab a horse from the stable to try and escape. Nonetheless, a few days later he was caught by some men and shot when he tried to escape by horse again. So whilst female highwaymen may not have been very prevalent, they certainly captured popular imagination both at the time and still today. The story of Catherine Ferris was made into a film in 1945 which elaborated upon her legend. Whilst some exist in literature, some in legend, there certainly were some around, although most, if not all, probably acted as partners to male robbers. It's easy to see how they still capture our attention today with the idea of women who led double lives as meek, repressed women of their time during the day, but at night reclaim their independence to assert their power over defenseless men. Coming up, people in Gloucester, Massachusetts were reporting very bizarre things in the summer of 1692. They heard the march of troops despite the war having ended 20 years earlier. They saw what they claimed was a human scalp and the shape of a Native American's bow when looking at the face of the moon, but that was only the appetizer of what would come that horrifying summer of paranormal activity. Plus, seeing a deceased loved one, a soft glowing light, a warm feeling of comfort and love. People have reported seeing many of these types of things when near death, and whilst some might want to blame it on the brain's neurons misfiring or even rapid firing toward the end of someone's life, how does that explain that the majority of these reports are so similar? These stories and more when Weird Darkness Returns Oh, hello there, it's Santa, and my big night is getting closer by the day. You know, I love milk and cookies when I visit your home each year. Well, the milk can get warm while waiting for me to arrive, and a warm toddy is not the best thing to drink if you plan on staying alert and flying around the world. So this year, I'm asking that you instead leave me a plate of cookies at a nice hot thermos or mug of Weird Dark Roast Coffee. It actually tastes like Christmas. It has a hint of cocoa and caramel, and I've been drinking a lot of it recently to wake me up early in the morning to work on toys and take care of the reindeer. So this year, leave Santa a mug or thermos of Weird Dark Roast Coffee. Tell your parents they can find it right now at WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash coffee. Strange Things were reported in Gloucester, Massachusetts in the summer of 1692. Though King Philip's war had occurred two decades previously, the march of man was heard in its Gloucester streets, and an Indian bow and scalp were seen on the face of the moon, while the boom of cannon and roll of drums were heard at Maldon, and the windows of Plymouth rattled to the passage of unseen horsemen. But the strangest thing was the arrival on Cape Anne of a force of French and Indians that never could be caught, killed or crippled, though two regiments were hurried into Gloucester and battled with them for a fortnight. Thus the rumor went around that these were not an enemy of flesh and blood, but devils who hoped to work a moral perversion of the colony. From 1692 when they appeared, until the Salem witchcraft hysteria ended, Cape Anne was under military and spiritual guard against the Spectre Leaguers. Another version of the episode based on sworn evidence said that Ebenezer Babson, returning late on a summer night, saw two men run from his door and vanish into a field. His family denied that visitors had called, so he gave chase, or he believed the men to have mischievous intention. As he left the threshold, they sprang from behind a log, one saying to the other, the master of the house is now come, else we might have taken the house. And again, they disappeared in a swamp. Babson woke the guard and on entering the quarters of the garrison, the sound of many feet was heard without. But when the doors were flung open, only the two men were visible and they were retreating. The next evening, the Yalmin was chased by these elusive gentry who were believed to be scouts of the enemy, for they wore white britches and waistcoats and carried bright guns. For several nights they appeared, and on the Fourth of July a half-dozen of them were seen so plainly that the soldiers made a sally, Babson bringing three of ye unaccountable troublers to the ground with a single shot and getting a response in kind, for a bullet hissed by his ear and buried itself in a tree. When the company approached the place, where lay the victims of that remarkable shot, behold, they arose and scampered away, as blithely as if not had happened to them. One of the trio was cornered and shot anew, but when they would pick him up, he melted into air. There was fierce jabbering in an unknown tongue, through all the swamp, and by the time the garrison had returned, the fellows were skulking in the shrubbery again. A man named Richard Dolliver afterward came upon eleven of them engaged in incantations and scattered them with a gunshot, but they would be not down. Instead, they lurked about the cape until terror fell on all the people, remaining for the best part of a month together. So it was deemed that Satan had set ambushments against the good people of Gloucester, with demons in the shape of armed Indians and Frenchmen. Stones were thrown, barns were beaten with clubs, the marching of unseen hosts was heard after dark, and the mockers grew so bold that they ventured close to the redoubtable Ebenezer Babson, who gazed scornfully down the barrel of his gun and laid a charm on the weapon, so that no matter how often he snapped it at them, it flashed in the pan. Neighboring garrisons were summoned, but all battling with goblins was fruitless. One night, a dark and hostile throng emerged from the wood and moved toward the blockhouse, where twenty musketeers were keeping guard. If you be ghosts or devils, I will foil you, cried the captain, and tearing a silver button from his doublet, he rammed it into his gun and fired on the advancing host. Even as the smoke of his musket was blown on the wind, so did the beleaguering army vanish, the silver bullet proving that they were not of humankind. The night was wearing on when a cry went out that the devils were coming again. Arms were laid aside this time, and the watchers sank to their knees in prayer. Directly after the name of God was uttered, the marching ceased, and heaven rang with the howls of the angry fiends. Never again were leaguers seen in Gloucester. Close to the moment of death, apparitions of deceased friends and loved ones appear to escort the dying to the other side. Such deathbed visions are not just the stuff of stories and movies. They are in fact more common than you might think, and are surprisingly similar across nationalities, religions, and cultures. Instances of these unexplained visions have been recorded throughout history and stand as one of the most compelling proofs of life after death. Anecdotes of deathbed visions have appeared in literature and biographies throughout the ages, but it wasn't until the 20th century that the subject received scientific study. One of the first to examine the subject seriously was Sir William Barrett, a professor of physics at the Royal College of Science in Dublin. In 1926, he published a summation of his findings in a book titled Deathbed Visions, which I have linked to in the show notes. In the many cases he studied, he discovered some interesting aspects of the experience that are not easily explained. It was not uncommon for the dying people who saw these visions to identify friends and relatives who they thought were still living, but in each case, according to Barrett, it was later discovered that these people were dead. Remember, communications then weren't what they are today and it might take weeks or even months to learn that a friend or a loved one had died. Barrett found it curious that children quite often expressed surprise that the angels they saw in their dying moments did not have wings. If the deathbed vision is just a hallucination, wouldn't a child see an angel as it is most often depicted in art and literature with large white wings? More extensive research into these mysterious visions was carried out in the 1960s and 1970s by Dr. Carlos Osis of the American Society for Psychical Research. In his research, and for a book he published in 1977 titled At the Hour of Death, which I'll link to in the show notes, Osis considered thousands of case studies and interviewed more than a thousand doctors, nurses and others who attended the dying. The work found some fascinating consistencies. Although some dying people report seeing angels and other religious figures, and sometimes even mythical figures, the vast majority claim to see familiar people who had previously passed away. Very often the friends and relatives seen in these visions express directly that they have come to help take them away. The dying person is reassured by the experience and expresses great happiness with the vision. Contrast this with the confusion or fear that a non-dying person would experience at seeing a ghost. The dying also seemed quite willing to go with these apparitions. The dying person's mood, even state of health, seems to change. During these visions, a once depressed or pain-riddled person is overcome with elation and momentary relief of pain until death strikes. The people having these experiences do not seem to be hallucinating or to be in an altered state of consciousness. Rather, they appear to be quite aware of their real surroundings and conditions. Whether or not the dying person believes in an afterlife is irrelevant. The experience and reactions are the same. How many people have deathbed visions? This is unknown since only about 10% of dying people are conscious shortly before their deaths. But of this 10%, it is estimated between 50% and 60% of them experience these visions. The visions only seem to last about 5 minutes and are seen mostly by people who approach death gradually, such as those suffering from life-threatening injuries or terminal illnesses. So what are deathbed visions? How can they be explained? Are they hallucinations produced by dying brains? Delusions produced by drugs in the systems of the patients? Or could the visions of spirits be exactly what they appear to be? A welcoming committee of deceased loved ones who have come to ease the transition to life on another plane of existence? Carla Wills Brandon attempts to answer these questions in her book One Last Hug Before I Go, The Mystery and Meaning of Deathbed Visions, which includes many modern day accounts. I'll link to her book on Amazon in the show notes. Could they be creations of the dying brain, a kind of self-induced sedative to ease the dying process? Although this is a theory offered by many in the scientific community, Wills Brandon doesn't agree. The visitors in the visions were often deceased relatives who came to offer support to the dying person, she writes. In some situations, the dying did not know these visitors were already dead. In other words, why would the dying brain only produce visions of people who are dead, whether the dying person knew they were dead or not? And what about the effects of medication? Many of the individuals who have these visions are not on medications and are very coherent, writes Wills Brandon. Those who are on medications also report these visions, but the visions are similar to those who are not on medications. We may never know whether these experiences are truly paranormal. That is until we too pass from this life. But there is one aspect of some death bed visions that is most difficult to explain and lends most credence to the idea that they are actual visitations of spirits from the other side. On rare occasions, the spirit entities are seen not only by the dying patient, but also by the friends, relatives and others in attendance. According to one case documented in the February 1904 edition of Journal of the Society for Psychic Research, a death bed apparition was seen by a dying woman, Harriet Pearson, and by three relatives who were in the room. Two witnesses in attendance of a dying young boy independently claimed to see the spirit of his mother at his bedside. Whether the death bed vision's phenomenon is real or not, the experience is very often beneficial for the people involved. In his book Parting Visions, Melvin Morse writes that visions of a spiritual nature can empower dying patients, making them realize that they have something to share with others. I'll link to his book in these show notes as well. He says these visions dramatically lessen or completely remove the fear of dying in the patients and are enormously healing to the relatives. Carla Will's Brandon believes that death bed visions can help change our overall attitude about death. Many people today fear their own death and have difficulty handling the passing of loved ones, she says. If we can recognize that death is nothing to fear, perhaps we will be able to live life more fully. Knowing that death is not the end might resolve some of our fear-based societal difficulties. When Weird Darkness returns, in 1849, young Cornelius Ahern was only 19 years old, and his chosen occupation was pickpocketing. It's likely we never would have heard about him, except for the fact that he once attempted and failed to pick the pocket of one particular writer who would one day become famous. Charles Dickens. His story is up next. 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That's WeirdDarkness.com slash Built, and use the promo code WeirdDarkness, all one word, and you'll get 10% off everything in your cart. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash Built, promo code WeirdDarkness. It's beginning to taste a lot like Christmas. On a chilly March evening in 1849, a young man aged 19 was making his way along the Edgware Road in Merlebone. He was small and of medium build. He had dark hair and an oval face with a fresh complexion. His eyes were gray, and they were peering keenly through the dark. His name was Cornelius Ahern, and he was a pickpocket. Ahead of him, Ahern spotted two gentlemen who were strolling along arm in arm deep in conversation. One was portly with corkscrew curls and a double chin, and passed the first flush of youth. His companion, wearing an expensive hat and coat, carried less weight and was the right side of 40. Creeping up and putting his hand in a pocket of the older gentleman's coat, Ahern got the fright of his life when his victims spun round and clouded him on the head with a walking stick. Swearing as a salient, the young thief turned tail and fled. Although unnerved by the side of a gathering mob, the two gentlemen gave chase, and with the help of a police constable on plain clothes duty, caught up with Ahern in Bell Street. They then frog-marched him, kicking violently and swearing to the police station at 86 Merrillbone High Street, where they formally identified themselves. The older of the two, Ahern's victim, was Mark Lemon. He was the editor of Punch Magazine. His younger companion was Charles Dickens. He was a writer. At the police station, Dickens, who had once written a piece on the Middlesex House of Correction at Coldbath Fields and Clerkenwell, spoke to Ahern. Have you not been in prison before? No, never, replied Ahern, who had in fact been locked up in one penitentiary or another on 20 previous occasions. The constable gave him a knowing nudge. But what are you talking about? Ahern again protested. Although he conceded that he had once served a two-month sentence, one presumed that he felt that this did not count. Ahern's defiance did not end there. When he came before the magistrate and was asked to give his version of events, he explained that he had simply been walking behind two gentlemen quickly, but with nothing unlawful in mind. They had stopped so suddenly that he had bumped into them, at which they had turned and struck him. When he had protested that they had struck him again, he had then run off, pursued by cries of stop-thief. At this point, Dickens said again that he thought he had seen the young man in the House of Correction, and replied to which Ahern said that, in that case, he Dickens must have been in prison himself. In fact, he went on, he knew both the gentlemen well as members of the swell mob, and he added to the obvious amusement of the court that they got their living by buying stolen goods. And I recollect him at the prison. Ahern was pointing at Dickens, where he was put in for six months while I was there for only two. The magistrate handed down a sentence of three months in cold bath fields with hard labor. He had been unimpressed by the attempt to discredit the two eminent men of letters, and he made it clear that the young pickpocket had only avoided a high court trial with a possibility of transportation by failing to find anything in Lemon's pocket. And so, Cornelius Ahern was taken away in a police van to the House of Correction. He had been born into a Catholic family in about 1830 in Ratcliffe Highway, the road running from Shadwell to Limehouse in the east end of London. His mother Margaret, who was in her mid-30s when he was born, came from Ireland. Nothing is known about Cornelius' father beyond the fact that he had already died when the 1851 census was taken. In that time, Margaret was living in Berry and Ground Passage off Merrillbone High Street, where she was the domestic servant of a bricklayer's laborer, who was also from Ireland. Cornelius, too, was a laborer, although at one time or another he described himself more precisely as a plasterer or a mason. In prison records, his degree of instruction, his education, was classified imperfect. By a curious coincidence, Dickens had explored the relationship between illiteracy and criminality in the course of his prison visits. In 1846, in a letter published in The Daily News, he commented on the sight of male prisoners in the House of Correction being taught to read, saying, The contrast of this labor in the men with the less blunted quickness of the boys, the latent shame and sense of degradation struggling through their dull attempts at infant lessons, and the universal eagerness to learn impressed me in this passing retrospect more painfully than I can tell. But he was less generous in his depiction of a juvenile pickpocket being sentenced at the Old Bailey to transportation, which appeared in his works Sketches by Boz. The 13-year-old boy in one of the stories tries to argue his way out of trouble, but his arguments are disingenuous, and his tears are a sham. Like the boy in Boz, and indeed like the Dodger in Oliver Twist, Ahern had started his criminal career at an early age. His repertoire was decidedly varied, and by the time of the Mark Lemmon Affair, he'd been charged not only with picking pockets, but also with stealing from gardens, assaulting the police, passing counterfeit money, and on a darker note, mugging children. However, he was not as artful as the fictional Jack Dawkins, and only weeks after serving time for his botched attempt at picking Lemmon's pocket, and we are assuming that Lemmon was telling the truth about the incident, he was brought before the Merrill Bone Magistrate again. At this time, he was committed for a trial at the Middlesex Sessions because there was material evidence of a crime, namely a two-chilling silk handkerchief. The victim was the remarkably named Bulkley John Mackworth Prade, a first-class cricketer and member of the Merrill Bone Cricket Club, who'd been walking along Great Cumberland Street with his wife when he felt what he called a slight twitch at his pocket. Catching Ahern trying to hide the stolen handkerchief, he had dragged him into a baker's shop, where he kept watch over him until a policeman arrived. Once again, Ahern had his own version of events. He had seen a handkerchief fall out of Prade's pocket, and while attempting to return it to its rightful owner had been rounded on. To be accused of stealing the handkerchief, pricking the wipe was a travesty of justice. But Ahern's notoriety went before him, and on the 21st of August, the Clerkinwell Court, deciding that enough was enough, sentenced him to be transported for ten years. He was held in coal bath fields until he was transferred to Millbank at the end of November, where he remained for nine months. From Millbank, he went first to Portland and Dorset, and then to Sterling Castle, a convict hulk at Portsmouth. By the end of 1851, he'd been moved to Dartmoor. Finally, in the autumn of 1852, he was put on board the Dudbrook at Plymouth with 53 other convicts. Australia now loomed. The Dudbrook, a 601-ton bark had already collected convicts from the hulks of Woolwich and from the prisons at Portsmouth, Portland, and Parkhurst on the Isle of Wight. In total, she carried 229 convicts. She sailed on the 9th of November, and after a voyage of 77 days, reached Fremantle in Western Australia on the 2nd of February in the year 1853. And there Cornelius Ahern disappeared from sight. We know that he had a ticket of leave, possibly granted for his record of good behavior in the months prior to his departure, which gave him a degree of freedom of movement. But where he went, what he did, and what ultimately became of him, remain a mystery. After all, Australia is a pretty big place. He disappeared from the lives of Mark Lemon and Charles Dickens, too. No doubt, they would have said that the young Nerdoel had got his just desserts. One wonders, though, what the man who railed against social injustice would have said if he had seen the forlorn Ahern on board the Dubbroke. He was still only 23 years old, and oval of face and fresh of complexion. His fellow passengers were a rough lot, their bodies bearing witness to their crimes, but also to their deprivations. One man had a skin deeply pitted with smallpox, another had scars running across his nose and under his chin, a third had lost three middle fingers on his left hand. Ahern had butt a tattoo of a heart on his right arm. What does a man have a tattoo of a heart? He was unmarried. Maybe it reminded him of a girl he had once known, or of his mother Margaret, who, having lost a husband, had now lost a son. If you liked the podcast and if you haven't already subscribed, be sure to do so now so you don't miss future episodes. And also, please, tell someone else about the podcast. Recommend weird darkness to your friends, family, and co-workers who love the paranormal, horror stories, or a true crime like you do. Every time you share the podcast with someone new, it helps spread the word about the show, and a growing audience makes it possible for me to keep creating episodes as often as I do. Plus, telling others about Weird Darkness also helps get the word out about resources that are available for those who suffer from depression, so please, share the podcast with someone today. Do you have a dark tale to tell of your own? Fact or fiction, click on Tell Your Story on the website and I might use it in a future episode. All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise, and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes. JFK's Missing Brain is by Doug McGowan for Historic Mysteries. Female Highwayman, the Wicked Lady of the 1600s, is by Gemma Holman for Just History Posts. The Specter Leaguers of Gloucester is by Charles M. Skinner and it was edited by Kathy Weister for Legends of America. Deathbed Visions is from Steven Wagner for Live About. Epic Pocket and Charles Dickens is by William Ellis Reese for London Overlooked. Weird Darkness Theme by Alibi Music. Weird Darkness is a registered trademark. And now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. Matthew 6, verse 21. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. And a final thought, no matter how bad something may seem, there are always, always many things to be grateful for. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness.