It’s always disheartening when a murder goes unsolved, and a perpetrator does not face justice. Even in our modern age, with forensics and DNA, cases do not always get the kind of resolution we’d like. The recent BBC Wales series Dark Land, which I was the resident crime historian on, looked at four unsolved Welsh cases from the 20th century, and viewers have sent suggestions for other cases we could look at in response, showing that there are many cases that have left those involved with them with a sense of unfinished business. They have not seen a resolution – nobody has been locked up and made to pay for their crimes.

Think, then, of what it must have felt like before our scientific developments, of times when it was hard to prove that someone committed a crime, even when most people were convinced of it. Of course, we need the right person to be convicted, and know that there was sufficient proof, but if it was your family member who was killed, and you thought someone had got away with that crime, how would you feel?

In 1893, a horrific double-murder – that of two little girls – resulted in such a lack of resolution, despite a man going on trial for the offences. The crimes took place in a rural area, in Lechlade, Gloucestershire. The two girls lived near each other, in an area where children played together in the fields, on their own, from a young age, their parents confident that they would be safe. In this case, unfortunately, they weren’t.

It’s always disheartening when a murder goes unsolved, and a perpetrator does not face justice. Even in our modern age, with forensics and DNA, cases do not always get the kind of resolution we’d like. The recent BBC Wales series Dark Land, which I was the resident crime historian on, looked at four unsolved Welsh cases from the 20th century, and viewers have sent suggestions for other cases we could look at in response, showing that there are many cases that have left those involved with them with a sense of unfinished business. They have not seen a resolution – nobody has been locked up and made to pay for their crimes.

Think, then, of what it must have felt like before our scientific developments, of times when it was hard to prove that someone committed a crime, even when most people were convinced of it. Of course, we need the right person to be convicted, and know that there was sufficient proof, but if it was your family member who was killed, and you thought someone had got away with that crime, how would you feel?

In 1893, a horrific double-murder – that of two little girls – resulted in such a lack of resolution, despite a man going on trial for the offences. The crimes took place in a rural area, in Lechlade, Gloucestershire. The two girls lived near each other, in an area where children played together in the fields, on their own, from a young age, their parents confident that they would be safe. In this case, unfortunately, they weren’t.

The burial register entries for Beatrice and Emily make clear, in the margin, that theirs were not natural deaths Oxfordshire Family History Society and Oxfordshire History Centre

Beatrice Alice James was seven years old, and her friend, Emily Ethel Judd, just five. They were both the children of agricultural labourers, living in the small estate village of Little Faringdon, which was just one mile from Lechlade but across the Gloucestershire border into Oxfordshire. As long as they were home at mealtimes, their families were happy for them to go out and play during the day, in the summer of that year.

James Lapworth was held at Oxford Prison to await trial in 1893, and tried at the autumn Assizes of that year Nell Darby

On Saturday 22 July, the girls had their lunches at their respective homes, and then, about 1pm, they left home to go for a walk. There were few houses in the area where they lived, and those there were scattered – the children normally played together in the fields surrounding them. When they failed to return for tea, however, their parents became alarmed, and started walking around the area to see if they could see them.

Night fell, and the parents sent for the police, who organised search parties to work throughout the night. While walking along the Thames early on Sunday morning, Emily’s father, Henry David Judd, found his daughter’s body floating on the water.

Beatrice James’s body was found the following morning, Monday, lying in a ditch bordering Ham Field, some eight or nine feet from the Thames. Beatrice’s throat had been cut, and she also had a substantial cut to her stomach. Around 12 yards from her body was a large pool of blood. Again, her body was found by her father, Isaac.

Newspaper accounts varied in what they said had happened, and how. However, it was reported that Dr Walker of Lechlade examined the bodies, and in his view, Beatrice had died from the wound to her throat on Saturday. Emily, who had been dead around 12 hours by the time she was examined on Sunday morning, had died of asphyxia, possibly the result of shock on being immersed in water. Some reports stated that Beatrice’s killer had tried to rape her; others that Emily had a cut to her neck, although not as bad as the one on Alice’s.

A labourer named James Lapworth, 27, was arrested by Inspector Cook of the Oxford Constabulary at the house of one of his relatives at South Cerney, near Cirencester, on 25 July. At around the time of the murders, he had run into the Temperance Hotel in town, drunk and covered in blood. When the landlord, William Deering, queried his state, Lapworth said, ‘I have fallen over Mr Eyle’s step and broken my concertina.’

The little girls’ bodies were found in a riverside field between their home in Little Faringdon and neighbouring Lechlade, pictured here Nell Darby

When charged with murdering the girls, Lapworth said, ‘I can go and face it out. I heard nothing of it when I left Lechlade yesterday morning.’ He was taken to Fairford by Inspector Cook, who then took his clothing and two knives found with him, and sent them to Walter William Fisher, the Oxford county analyst. Fisher duly found bloodstains on Lapworth’s coat sleeve as well as on his waistcoat, trousers and shirt. There were several large bloodstains on his handkerchief, and one of the knives seemed to have been recently cleaned, while the other one had a fresh bloodstain on it.

An inquest into the deaths was held at Little Faringdon on Wednesday 2 August 1893. On Saturday 5 August, James Lapworth of Lechlade appeared before the magistrates at Burford Petty Sessions, charged with the murders of Beatrice Alice James and Emily Ethel Judd, and was committed to trial on the charge of wilful murder. Meanwhile, the two little girls were buried at Little Faringdon, the grieving relatives being supported by sympathetic villagers.

Lapworth was sent to Oxford Castle to await trial; the Illustrated Police News stated that ‘he is likely to turn out to be an idiot’ – for it could not understand how anyone sane could have committed these murders. He was described as being a farmhouse labourer, but he was not in regular employment. Both his parents had died about two years previously, according to the newspapers, and since then people had seen him behaving ‘strangely at times’. He would often go at night to the churchyard and play his melodeum on his parents’ graves, and refuse to leave when asked. In reality, his father had died in 1889, and his mother in 1891 – due to the low population of Little Faringdon, the burial of James Lapworth’s mother Sarah is on the same double page of the burial register as those of Beatrice James and Emily Judd. Although it is feasible that James had taken his parents’ death to heart, it was not the case that he had lost them close in period to each other, and it was a couple of years, not weeks or months, since his mother’s death. However, and more disturbingly, he was obsessed with the Whitechapel murders of five years earlier, and told his neighbours that some day, ‘he hoped to be a Jack the Ripper’.

Both girls were buried in the graveyard of St Margaret’s Church in Little Faringdon, neighbours coming out to the funeral to support the two families Nell Darby

The small estate of Little Faringdon, Oxfordshire, where the Judd and James families were living in 1893 Nell Darby

The trial took place at the Oxford autumn assizes in November 1893. The case against Lapworth in relation to Emily Judd was heard first, followed by that of Beatrice James. Lapworth was found not guilty of both. To modern readers, it feels as though Lapworth had sufficient mental health issues to have escaped conviction, or at least, execution; yet he was actually found not guilty because the jury believed the evidence against him was purely circumstantial, and not sufficient for a guilty verdict. He had indeed been seen with bloodstained clothing and a bloodstained knife had been found on him – but nobody could place him at the scene of the crimes, and the bloodstains could have got on him for a different reason, or at a different time. Neighbours’ views about how he acted, and the things he said, were disturbing, but they didn’t make him a killer. He was instead either a grieving son, or a man who wanted to be remembered because he knew that an unemployed, working-class man in the 19th century was unlikely to get the memorials and plaudits that those from higher up the social ladder usually got.

However, Lapworth’s acquittal meant that either he had got away with murder, or someone else had. Yet the police do not appear to have ever found another suspect, and nobody was ever charged apart from Lapworth. The girls had been buried, but their families now had to live with what had happened, and the fact that they had not seen anybody punished.

Neither girl’s father lived long themselves, the trauma of what had happened perhaps having an impact on them. Beatrice’s father Isaac died just seven years after his daughter, and was, like her, buried at Little Faringdon. His widow, Emily, was listed in the 1901 census as having to undertake field work to maintain her family, as well as taking in a lodger – shepherd Richard Cooper, 13 years younger than her. In 1903, Emily married her lodger. In 1911, Richard was now working as a farm labourer – as had Emily’s first husband and her father – and recorded the fact that Emily had given birth to eight children by Isaac James, but that by now, three of them were dead.

Henry Judd, Emily’s father, died in early 1899, aged just 37. His widow, Mary Jane, left with several children to maintain, married just over a year later, her second husband being a groom, John Butler. In the third quarter of 1901, both John and Mary Jane Butler died – a sad end to a family already blighted by tragedy.

Beatrice Alice James was seven years old, and her friend, Emily Ethel Judd, just five. They were both the children of agricultural labourers, living in the small estate village of Little Faringdon, which was just one mile from Lechlade but across the Gloucestershire border into Oxfordshire. As long as they were home at mealtimes, their families were happy for them to go out and play during the day, in the summer of that year.

On Saturday 22 July, the girls had their lunches at their respective homes, and then, about 1pm, they left home to go for a walk. There were few houses in the area where they lived, and those there were scattered – the children normally played together in the fields surrounding them. When they failed to return for tea, however, their parents became alarmed, and started walking around the area to see if they could see them.

Night fell, and the parents sent for the police, who organised search parties to work throughout the night. While walking along the Thames early on Sunday morning, Emily’s father, Henry David Judd, found his daughter’s body floating on the water.

Beatrice James’s body was found the following morning, Monday, lying in a ditch bordering Ham Field, some eight or nine feet from the Thames. Beatrice’s throat had been cut, and she also had a substantial cut to her stomach. Around 12 yards from her body was a large pool of blood. Again, her body was found by her father, Isaac.

Newspaper accounts varied in what they said had happened, and how. However, it was reported that Dr Walker of Lechlade examined the bodies, and in his view, Beatrice had died from the wound to her throat on Saturday. Emily, who had been dead around 12 hours by the time she was examined on Sunday morning, had died of asphyxia, possibly the result of shock on being immersed in water. Some reports stated that Beatrice’s killer had tried to rape her; others that Emily had a cut to her neck, although not as bad as the one on Alice’s.

A labourer named James Lapworth, 27, was arrested by Inspector Cook of the Oxford Constabulary at the house of one of his relatives at South Cerney, near Cirencester, on 25 July. At around the time of the murders, he had run into the Temperance Hotel in town, drunk and covered in blood. When the landlord, William Deering, queried his state, Lapworth said, ‘I have fallen over Mr Eyle’s step and broken my concertina.’

When charged with murdering the girls, Lapworth said, ‘I can go and face it out. I heard nothing of it when I left Lechlade yesterday morning.’ He was taken to Fairford by Inspector Cook, who then took his clothing and two knives found with him, and sent them to Walter William Fisher, the Oxford county analyst. Fisher duly found bloodstains on Lapworth’s coat sleeve as well as on his waistcoat, trousers and shirt. There were several large bloodstains on his handkerchief, and one of the knives seemed to have been recently cleaned, while the other one had a fresh bloodstain on it.

An inquest into the deaths was held at Little Faringdon on Wednesday 2 August 1893. On Saturday 5 August, James Lapworth of Lechlade appeared before the magistrates at Burford Petty Sessions, charged with the murders of Beatrice Alice James and Emily Ethel Judd, and was committed to trial on the charge of wilful murder. Meanwhile, the two little girls were buried at Little Faringdon, the grieving relatives being supported by sympathetic villagers.

Lapworth was sent to Oxford Castle to await trial; the Illustrated Police News stated that ‘he is likely to turn out to be an idiot’ – for it could not understand how anyone sane could have committed these murders. He was described as being a farmhouse labourer, but he was not in regular employment. Both his parents had died about two years previously, according to the newspapers, and since then people had seen him behaving ‘strangely at times’. He would often go at night to the churchyard and play his melodeum on his parents’ graves, and refuse to leave when asked. In reality, his father had died in 1889, and his mother in 1891 – due to the low population of Little Faringdon, the burial of James Lapworth’s mother Sarah is on the same double page of the burial register as those of Beatrice James and Emily Judd. Although it is feasible that James had taken his parents’ death to heart, it was not the case that he had lost them close in period to each other, and it was a couple of years, not weeks or months, since his mother’s death. However, and more disturbingly, he was obsessed with the Whitechapel murders of five years earlier, and told his neighbours that some day, ‘he hoped to be a Jack the Ripper’.

The trial took place at the Oxford autumn assizes in November 1893. The case against Lapworth in relation to Emily Judd was heard first, followed by that of Beatrice James. Lapworth was found not guilty of both. To modern readers, it feels as though Lapworth had sufficient mental health issues to have escaped conviction, or at least, execution; yet he was actually found not guilty because the jury believed the evidence against him was purely circumstantial, and not sufficient for a guilty verdict. He had indeed been seen with bloodstained clothing and a bloodstained knife had been found on him – but nobody could place him at the scene of the crimes, and the bloodstains could have got on him for a different reason, or at a different time. Neighbours’ views about how he acted, and the things he said, were disturbing, but they didn’t make him a killer. He was instead either a grieving son, or a man who wanted to be remembered because he knew that an unemployed, working-class man in the 19th century was unlikely to get the memorials and plaudits that those from higher up the social ladder usually got.

However, Lapworth’s acquittal meant that either he had got away with murder, or someone else had. Yet the police do not appear to have ever found another suspect, and nobody was ever charged apart from Lapworth. The girls had been buried, but their families now had to live with what had happened, and the fact that they had not seen anybody punished.

Neither girl’s father lived long themselves, the trauma of what had happened perhaps having an impact on them. Beatrice’s father Isaac died just seven years after his daughter, and was, like her, buried at Little Faringdon. His widow, Emily, was listed in the 1901 census as having to undertake field work to maintain her family, as well as taking in a lodger – shepherd Richard Cooper, 13 years younger than her. In 1903, Emily married her lodger. In 1911, Richard was now working as a farm labourer – as had Emily’s first husband and her father – and recorded the fact that Emily had given birth to eight children by Isaac James, but that by now, three of them were dead.

Henry Judd, Emily’s father, died in early 1899, aged just 37. His widow, Mary Jane, left with several children to maintain, married just over a year later, her second husband being a groom, John Butler. In the third quarter of 1901, both John and Mary Jane Butler died – a sad end to a family already blighted by tragedy.