Betty Bates ascended the stairs with a candle to conduct two wayfarers to their chamber. Moments later, a lad of fourteen was roused from his slumber by her piercing shrieks. One of the men had pursued her into the room; the other had stolen down toward the taproom. At the Jolly Carters, near Worsley in Lancashire, the publican lay dead asleep upon a sofa, overcome by drink taken with his guests. By the time the neighbours were alarmed, Bates lay dead, and a blade was buried beneath Mrs Blears’s ear. Pelham’s account rests principally upon the testimony of the surviving mistress and the boy.
On Monday, the 22nd of May 1826, Alexander M’Keand entered the Jolly Carters, an inn kept by Joseph Blears at Winton. The publican’s wife, whom Pelham designates as Mrs Blears, was acquainted with him. Alexander called for a pint of beer, but let it sit before him untouched for near half an hour. His brother Michael presently arrived and took a seat opposite him. To all appearances, the two men conducted themselves as strangers. Michael called for bread, cheese, and ale; Alexander thereupon ordered the like fare. Mrs Blears briefly stepped away from the counter. Upon her return, the brothers had shifted places and were conversing in low murmurs upon a sofa.
Michael inquired after her husband, asking at what hour he might return from Manchester. The pair lingered in the house until he arrived. Blears at first declined to drink with them; upon their pressing him, he accepted a glass of whisky, and then a second. The brothers drank likewise, and the talk continued over cider. Pelham relates that the landlord was soon overcome by liquor and fell asleep upon the sofa, an insensibility the chronicler imputes to some narcotic drug, though without the support of any medical finding. After whispering together for half an hour, Michael asked if they might have beds for the night, alleging it was too late to reach Manchester. Mrs Blears consented to lodge them.
They observed that the landlord was in liquor and desired to be shown to their chamber. Betty, the servant-maid, was summoned to light them up with a candle. According to Higgins, the boy who lay in the chamber allotted to the travelers, the two brothers parted company at the head of the stairs. Alexander followed the young woman into the room; the other man went down again. Roused by the disturbance, Higgins peered from beneath the bedclothes. He saw Alexander throw an arm about Betty’s waist. She resisted, bidding him be quiet. The man dashed her to the floor. The boy could not see what followed, but heard her cry of “Murder!” She contrived to regain her feet; her assailant threw her down anew. Higgins caught sight of a motion near her ear, and then blood upon her breast.
Betty struggled on, crying that she would mark him. Terrified, Higgins cowered once more beneath the sheets. The man approached the bed and clapped a hand over the boy’s mouth, as if to stifle any outcry from him as well. The maid seized the moment to struggle to her feet and stagger toward the doorway. Leaving the lad, the ruffian darted in pursuit. Higgins seized the diversion to slip past him and vault over the stair-rail. The man caught at his shoulder, but the boy made good his escape from the house, hid himself in a ditch, and was pursued no further.
Below, Mrs Blears had heard the girl’s cries and was hastening up the stairs. The other brother barred her way and drew a knife from beneath his coat. She caught the gleam of the blade before he dealt her a first cut across the throat. The wound was not fatal, but as she attempted to scream, he seized her by the windpipe and drove the knife deep beneath her left ear. He wrenched at it repeatedly to draw it out; the haft at length broke off in his hand, leaving the blade buried in the wound.
Blears was still asleep when his wife cried out for aid. Awakened by the tumult, he found her bleeding. Betty’s corpse was discovered upon the landing before the bedchamber. Several persons endeavoured to draw the knife from Mrs Blears’s neck, but in vain; Mr Garthside, the surgeon, at last succeeded in extracting the blade. It was subsequently disclosed that one of the brothers had procured the knife that very morning and sharpened it upon the hearthstone of a Mrs Stewart, who dwelt near the inn.
In their flight, the brothers passed the house of a butcher at Kirkby Stephen toward five o'clock. Spent and footsore, they bore every mark of a long march. Two hours later, the butcher was at the barber’s shop when the parish constable entered with a handbill dispatched from Worsley, describing the M’Keands. The butcher recognized the wayfarers and declared them to be in all likelihood the men in request. The constable and an innkeeper named Farraday took horse to pursue them.
Tidings gleaned from travelers directed them along the road to Appleby. Farraday’s horse at length broke down; he exchanged mounts with the constable, who displayed a marked reluctance to confront the suspects. Three miles shy of Appleby, Farraday descried Alexander walking ahead, with Michael some fifty yards in the rear. He rode forward to the next public house and lay in wait. When Alexander arrived, Farraday offered him a pint of ale, remarking that he must have traveled a weary way. The man accepted and stepped within. Farraday instantly grappled with him, declared him his prisoner, and two other men assisted in securing him.
Farraday then stepped outside to seize Michael. Alexander suddenly wrenched himself free and made a desperate rush for the door. The innkeeper turned about in time to strike him down. A search revealed that Alexander carried a loaded pistol; Farraday judged that he would have discharged it had time permitted. Having subdued the first brother, Farraday returned to Michael and seized him directly by the collar. Michael raised his staff to strike, but Farraday tripped him up. In the scuffle that ensued, Michael kicked him fiercely and bit his hand. The pair were at length pinioned together with cords, placed in a cart, and conveyed to Appleby.
They were subsequently committed to Lancaster Castle. Their trial did not take place until the 17th of August. The facts sworn to by the witnesses were laid before the Assizes, and a verdict of guilty was returned. The defense urged that the prisoners were intoxicated and had harboured no murderous intent. The plea proved unavailing, and sentence of death was pronounced.
Following the verdict, the rift between the brothers widened. The chaplain, the Reverend Mr Rowley, visited Alexander and Michael. Michael strenuously denied having stabbed Mrs Blears, maintaining he was wholly ignorant of his brother’s deadly purpose. When the authorities re-examined Mrs Blears, she adhered firmly to her testimony, swearing that Michael was the man she encountered on the stairs as she went to Betty’s aid, and that it was his hand that struck her down.
Alexander did not deny the bloodshed committed above. Upon learning of his brother’s disclaimers, he retorted that Michael was guilty and knew himself to be so; he confessed that Michael had stabbed the mistress while he himself had slain the maid. He pleaded, however, that he had been deep in drink. Pelham mentions a debt owed by Alexander to a farmer named Claworth. A week before the murder, Alexander had reportedly disputed the demand. The attorney informed him that Blears would appear as a witness to prove he had acknowledged the debt, whereupon Alexander was said to have uttered violent threats. The chronicle suggests this rancour may have prompted the assault upon the family; it concedes, however, that the debt fails to explain why the servant-maid was made the first victim of their fury.
Their remaining days were spent in the prison chapel. On the Sunday, the brothers were placed alone in a pew; Michael turned his head aside, refusing to look upon Alexander. On the Monday morning, they received the sacrament and prayed for more than an hour. Alexander repeatedly expressed his hope in divine mercy. Michael appeared utterly prostrated, scarce able to support himself. Shortly after seven o'clock, they were conducted to the place of execution, outside the north-western angle of the castle. Alexander advanced with greater composure, his lips moving as if in prayer; Michael faltered with unsteady steps.
At half-past seven, a window opened directly upon the drop. The caps were drawn over their faces, the chaplain read the burial service, and the trap fell. After hanging the customary time, their bodies were delivered to the surgeons for dissection. Pelham concludes with a notice of their kindred: their mother and sister resided in Byrom Place, Winton. A scrap of a note, conveyed to them through Mrs Stewart, declared they were safe and alleged they had acted merely in self-defense, Blears having first assailed them. This account of their flight flatly contradicts Alexander’s subsequent confession, and leaves the true motive for the assault upon the servant-maid forever unexplained.