The Italian Boy : A Tale of Murder and Body Snatching in 1830s London

Rating:
Summary: Intriguing history of murder, bodysnatching 1830's London.
Review: Before the passage of the 1830's Anatomy Act that allowed medical schools legal usage of bodies of the unclaimed poor, grave robbing was a common occurrence in London and the surrounding countryside. Resurrection men were known to raid newly dug graves and sell the bodies to medical schools for dissection purposes. If a resurrection man was good at his trade he often made more money pedaling the bodies of the dead than the average laborer. Due to the medical establishment's demand for fresh bodies usually outpaced the supply it wasn't uncommon for individuals to be murdered for their bodies.

THE ITALIAN BOY thoroughly examines the notorious crimes of three London resurrection men who were charged with the murder of a young Italian street performer in November 1831. Sarah Wise performs a good job in bringing to life this period of London's history that was full of social and political transformations. Although many of the passages pertaining to the trail were dry, there are enough tidbits of social history to make reading this book more than worthwhile. The descriptions of the police investigations and the infancy of forensic knowledge were interesting, along with everyday descriptions of 1830's London.

The lure of reading books about the underbelly of life in 19th century London is always difficult for me to resist; if you also enjoy this subject matter then this book will give you a satisfying fix to cure your cravings. 4.5 stars. Recommended.

Rating:
Summary: Grisly Look at 1830s London
Review: Sarah Wise enters a Dickensian London underground as she follows the true historical tale of body-snatchers in 1830s on trial for the murder (burking) of an Italian boy in order to sell his body to surgeon-dissecters. Charles Dickens himself is quoted often and appropriately as the tale winds through the back alleys of rubbish strewn pre-Victorian London, taking in pubs, meat markets, and medical practices along the way. The author uses the historical facts of the case to explore many of these aspects of this fascinating time and place. Only very occasionally does the book veer off too far from the case at hand. Otherwise the author keeps a tight focus on the material and more than keeps the reader's interest through all the spooky twists and turn. A very nice job.

Rating:
Summary: A Ghoulish, Entertaining History
Review: They were known as "grabs", "lifters", "exhumators", and especially as "resurrection men." The number of euphemisms for their trade indicates a distaste for it; they were bodysnatchers, and in nineteenth century London, they had a good, if not respectable, trade. Sarah Wise, in _The Italian Boy: A Tale of Murder and Body Snatching in 1830s London_ (Metropolitan Books), has revived (so to speak) a story that has not been retold since the newspapers and broadsheets made it a sensation in its time. Far more famous is the case of the "Edinburgh Horrors" wherein William Burke and William Hare had not only snatched bodies but had manufactured them by murdering the victims first. Their crimes have entered literature and the movies, and "to burke" is even a term for the act. Three years later in 1831, similar crimes in London came to light and horrified and fascinated Londoners. Wise's book will do the same for the modern reader.

For medical students and anatomists in England, there was only one legal supply of cadavers for dissection, the gallows; getting cut up for show was another particular indignity that could be extended to the condemned. This might have been enough in years gone by, but in 1831 only 52 people were executed. A freshly exhumed corpse would fetch around ten guineas, at a time when a well-paid workingman might bring home eighty guineas a year, so the trade could be lucrative. Carlo Ferrari was a pretty fourteen-year-old street urchin who walked the city with his cage of white mice (and maybe a turtle) until he ran into the villains of this tale. The resurrectionists involved lured him to a home in a semi-rural part of the city, drugged him and drowned him, and then set off to peddle his body. When it looked too fresh, the police were called, and an investigation showed that Ferrari had not been the only victim. Less than a month after the murder was made public, John Bishop, James May, and Thomas Williams stood trial in the Old Bailey. In a fitting conclusion to their careers, the resurrection men found guilty were resurrected onto the anatomist's table. It was discovered that Bishop "... had an extraordinarily good physique, proving far more useful as a specimen than the produce he used to deliver."

The trial was a big case for the new London police force, and the role of the Police Inspector, then a novelty, was highlighted and began its acceptance by the public. The trial threw light on the horrid trade, its prevalence and the medical men who were accessories in its perpetuation. It served as a spark to reformation, contributing to the passing of the second Anatomy Bill in 1832, which allowed bodies other than those of the hanged miscreants to be a source of instruction. The unclaimed bodies of paupers could thereupon be used for dissection, and thus the "horrors" of the dissecting table started becoming less horrible; today enlightened future corpses often will their bodies for anatomical teaching. Wise's startling tale, well illustrated and fetid with cesspools, abattoirs, dissecting rooms, prisons, and Tudor slums, opens again a grotesque and brutal underworld and makes for an entertaining, gruesome history.

Rating:
Summary: A Ghoulish, Entertaining History
Review: They were known as "grabs", "lifters", "exhumators", and especially as "resurrection men." The number of euphemisms for their trade indicates a distaste for it; they were bodysnatchers, and in nineteenth century London, they had a good, if not respectable, trade. Sarah Wise, in _The Italian Boy: A Tale of Murder and Body Snatching in 1830s London_ (Metropolitan Books), has revived (so to speak) a story that has not been retold since the newspapers and broadsheets made it a sensation in its time. Far more famous is the case of the "Edinburgh Horrors" wherein William Burke and William Hare had not only snatched bodies but had manufactured them by murdering the victims first. Their crimes have entered literature and the movies, and "to burke" is even a term for the act. Three years later in 1831, similar crimes in London came to light and horrified and fascinated Londoners. Wise's book will do the same for the modern reader.

For medical students and anatomists in England, there was only one legal supply of cadavers for dissection, the gallows; getting cut up for show was another particular indignity that could be extended to the condemned. This might have been enough in years gone by, but in 1831 only 52 people were executed. A freshly exhumed corpse would fetch around ten guineas, at a time when a well-paid workingman might bring home eighty guineas a year, so the trade could be lucrative. Carlo Ferrari was a pretty fourteen-year-old street urchin who walked the city with his cage of white mice (and maybe a turtle) until he ran into the villains of this tale. The resurrectionists involved lured him to a home in a semi-rural part of the city, drugged him and drowned him, and then set off to peddle his body. When it looked too fresh, the police were called, and an investigation showed that Ferrari had not been the only victim. Less than a month after the murder was made public, John Bishop, James May, and Thomas Williams stood trial in the Old Bailey. In a fitting conclusion to their careers, the resurrection men found guilty were resurrected onto the anatomist's table. It was discovered that Bishop "... had an extraordinarily good physique, proving far more useful as a specimen than the produce he used to deliver."

The trial was a big case for the new London police force, and the role of the Police Inspector, then a novelty, was highlighted and began its acceptance by the public. The trial threw light on the horrid trade, its prevalence and the medical men who were accessories in its perpetuation. It served as a spark to reformation, contributing to the passing of the second Anatomy Bill in 1832, which allowed bodies other than those of the hanged miscreants to be a source of instruction. The unclaimed bodies of paupers could thereupon be used for dissection, and thus the "horrors" of the dissecting table started becoming less horrible; today enlightened future corpses often will their bodies for anatomical teaching. Wise's startling tale, well illustrated and fetid with cesspools, abattoirs, dissecting rooms, prisons, and Tudor slums, opens again a grotesque and brutal underworld and makes for an entertaining, gruesome history.