The Babbacombe Murder Revisited: Was John Lee Really Guilty?

“The Man They Could Not Hang” — Myth, Fact, and the 1936 Reassessment

On 6 March 1936, The Herald & Express newspaper of Torquay published a striking and controversial article titled “Was John Lee Guilty?” It revisited the notorious 1884 murder of Miss Emma Keyse at her home, The Glen, in Babbacombe. The man convicted — John Henry George Lee — had survived three failed execution attempts, earning global notoriety as “The Man They Could Not Hang.”

This 1936 article, written by journalist Reg Colwell, introduced a startling new version of events. It claimed to present the “truth,” allegedly based on John Lee’s own private confession, made after his release from prison. Crucially, it suggested Lee had not murdered Miss Keyse — but had protected someone else.

Historical note: While Colwell was a respected local journalist, no primary sources confirm the identity of his informant, nor has any manuscript of Lee’s confession been located.

What Is Known: The 1884 Murder and Trial

On 15 November 1884, Miss Emma Keyse, a 68-year-old spinster of private means and deep religious conviction, was found dead in her dining room. Her throat had been cut, her head injured with a chopper, and her body set alight. Multiple fires were discovered throughout the house, all smelling of paraffin. Despite the use of a reported gallon of oil, the building was not consumed.

The prime suspect, John Lee, aged 20, was the only male resident in the house that night. Lee had a criminal history and had only recently been re-employed by Miss Keyse, who had previously taken a charitable interest in him.

Key evidence against Lee included:

No sign of forced entry; all doors and windows were locked.
Blood was found on Lee’s right hand and on the nightdress of one of the maids.
A window was broken, allegedly to release smoke, but was proven to have been broken from outside.
A bloodstained towel and knife were discovered in drawers.
Lee’s half-sister, cook Elizabeth Harris, claimed Lee had previously threatened to burn the house down.

Lee was not permitted to testify, had no witnesses, and his defence counsel, Mr St. Aubyn, admitted the case was one of “grave suspicion.” The jury found Lee guilty, and he was sentenced to death.

The Failed Execution

On 23 February 1885, at Exeter Prison, three separate attempts to hang Lee failed due to a malfunctioning scaffold. The trapdoor would not release. After 30 minutes of repeated failure — during which Lee reportedly stood calmly — the execution was called off. Following national outcry, the Home Secretary commuted the sentence to life imprisonment.

Lee served 22 years. He was released in 1907, returned briefly to Devon, married a mental health nurse in Newton Abbot, and later died in the United States. Throughout, he maintained his innocence.

The 1936 Article: A Confession or a Myth?

According to the Herald & Express, following his release, Lee told his version of the story to two local brothers — sons of a respected Devon man. Their father had reportedly taken them to the funeral of a “well-known public figure” around 1890 and said:

“We have buried this afternoon the secret of the Babbacombe murder.”

Years later, Lee’s private account supposedly explained that cryptic remark.

In this alleged version:

The real killer was a man in public life who was conducting an affair with a young woman (suspected to be Elizabeth Harris).
A late-night supper party had taken place at The Glen, attended by this man, his lover, John Lee, and a second young woman (likely Katie Farmer, Lee’s girlfriend).
Miss Keyse surprised them after midnight, furious, and demanded Lee summon the police.
In the heat of the argument, Miss Keyse slapped the man, who struck her with a chopper.
Lee proposed a cover-up: moving the body, setting fires, and staging a forced entry.
He broke the window, raised the alarm, and repeated the prepared story to police.

Important disclaimer: No original documentation of this confession has been found. The identity of the supposed “brothers” is unconfirmed, and the story may reflect memory distortion, myth-making, or post hoc rationalisation.

The Templer Theory

Historian Mike Holgate has suggested that the unnamed “respected man” protected by Lee might have been Reginald Gwynne Templer, a 29-year-old solicitor who had initially represented Lee at his Magistrates’ Hearing.

What is verifiable about Templer:

He withdrew from the case before trial.
He died on 18 December 1886 of paralysis of the insane — now understood as late-stage neurosyphilis.
He had professional ties to Miss Keyse, and may have encountered Elizabeth Harris while she worked in Teignmouth.
Some sources suggest he may have funded Lee’s legal defence, which cost £60 — a significant amount at the time.

Caveat: There is no direct evidence linking Templer to the murder. His alleged involvement is speculative and based entirely on circumstantial proximity and timing.

Evidential Gaps and Logical Problems

Several problems remain with this alternative theory:

Why would Lee protect a man who let him face death and 22 years of prison?
Who slit Miss Keyse’s throat? The act was brutal — not a cover-up but a deliberate killing.
Could Lee have participated in the cover-up only, yet felt justified calling himself “innocent”?
Would Katie Farmer — Lee’s deeply affectionate girlfriend — stay silent if she knew the truth?
Could Templer and his companion have waited outside The Glen until after midnight? Witness Jane Neck heard Lee cough near Miss Keyse’s room around 12:10 a.m., which narrows the plausible window for the so-called “supper party.”
Why was Lee barefoot? He was found in stockinged feet — an unlikely state for hosting a clandestine gathering.

These inconsistencies suggest that either the alternative theory is flawed, or that Lee’s account — if given — was itself incomplete or self-serving.

The Bribery Allegation: Sabotaging the Gallows?

Local lore includes a theory that James Berry, the executioner, was bribed to fail. According to anecdotal reports from a Torquay solicitor in the 1890s, Berry was “influenced.” Berry was known for his transactional attitude toward the job and admitted working for money.

However:

An official engineer’s report blamed misaligned bolts and poor maintenance.
Berry himself later said:

“What I know about this business will remain there. I am innocent.”

There is no direct evidence that sabotage occurred, nor is there a clear motive. If Templer (or another figure) sought to silence Lee, a successful execution would have served that purpose better.

Who Was the Source?

The Herald & Express article was written by Reg Colwell, a journalist known locally but about whom little is formally documented. A theory advanced by researcher John Pike suggests the informant may have been Isidore James Carter, the prosecuting solicitor at Lee’s trial, who died in February 1936 — just weeks before the article was published.

However:

Carter was estranged from his sons, who were not named in his will.
There is no documented link between Carter’s family and the 1936 account.
This identification is speculative and unconfirmed.

Conclusion: What Can Be Trusted?

The 1936 article, though dramatic, must be treated with caution. It offers an intriguing narrative but lacks primary evidence. There is no surviving confession, no corroboration from police, no witness testimony to support the alleged supper party, and no named source willing to stand behind the story.

If Lee did confess privately, his motivations remain unclear — whether to explain his role, to clear his conscience, or to rewrite history in his favour.

If the story is invention, it reflects how legend can fill the void left by justice delayed, obscured, or denied.

As historians, we must separate what is known, what is plausible, and what is rumour.

“If Lee spoke the truth,” the article concluded, “then perhaps, after all this time, the world has come to know what really happened at The Glen that night in November over 50 years ago.”

That remains uncertain. What is certain is that the Babbacombe murder endures — not just as a crime, but as a study in Victorian justice, social silence, and the making of myth.