The William Kitchen Murders : Bins and Bones, Port of Bedlington, Northumberland 1881

In 1881, in the heart of winter, a creaking merchant vessel called “MYSTERY” docked in the Northumberland Port of Bedlington. There was a raging storm at play when the ship anchored in the dead of night. The story tells of how Shipmaster Charles Transom, shaking with a sweaty fever, signed the port papers in a hurry before leaving the docks without saying a word.

William Trint, first mate on board the MYSTERY was next to sign off and it’s said that as he signed his papers, he kept muttering an unrecognizable string of words over and over again. At the time, the dockhand thought he was a foreigner. It’s said that no other crew members came off the ship that night. The hours wore on and rumours began to spread to the inns around the dock that the MYSTERY had been cursed during its recent trip to Portsmouth but no-one knew for sure.

As the storm clouds kept recycling their bitter, icy shards of rain onto the Northumberland coastline, a thick mist formed just beyond the hull of the MYSTERY. Howling winds and freezing temperatures kept the MYSTERY away from prying eyes that night. Only a few men who dared to leave the inns to head for their homes were able to share the story of the sounds they heard that night out on the dock. Their stories were so frightful that it’s taken almost a century of tales and investigation to uncover the truth behind the MYSTERY of Bedlington Port.

Unbeknown to many at the time of MYSTERY’s docking, William Kitchen, a bins man from Bedlington town had gone missing earlier that day. His wife Gwilla was said to have been tearful with fear when he didn’t come home that evening. Her grandson told the story of how she ran from house to house, knocking on doors, shrieking for help but in the howling winds and lashing rains, her cries only fell on cold, empty stone. This, so the story goes, began the black night of murder in the misty merchant port of Bedlington, on the eve of 25th October, 1881.

It was only when a dockhand turned up for work the following morning that the true extent of the savage night became apparent. Strewn accross the dock, by the gangplank of the MYSTERY was a clotted red stain, faintly visible beneath a venear of thin frost. It snaked up the gangplank onto the deck of the MYSTERY, whose bows were eerily creaking in the gentle lapping of the waves.

Rubbish and bins, seemingly hurriedly cast aside, bobbed in the sea around the anchor chain as the dockhand tentatively made his way up the gang. A cold sweat prickled the back of his neck as he reached the ship and peaked over the railing. When he saw them, an uncontrollable gasp escaped his mouth and his body involuntarily wretched at the stench and site before him. Strewn across the deck like unwanted meat cast-offs were the remains of a person, in small, bloody, icy blocks. The dockhand vomited and ran from the plan, screaming for help.

It was only when inspectors became involved that more details were uncovered about the body parts. They were reported to have been ripped (not cut or chopped, but ripped) from their sockets and thrown about the deck of the MYSTERY like bits of useless rag.

No one ever saw William Kitchen again and Charles Transom died less than week later of apparently natural causes. William Trint, the MYSTERY’s first mate set sail on the next available ship and was never seen again.

Every October, at the site where the MYSTERY docked, it’s said that on the eve of the closest Saturday to the 25th, a thick mist settles on the dock and the ghost of 3 men and a faceless beast can be seen in its shadows.

It is believed that at least one of the ghosts is William Kitchen, the bins man of Bedlington. As for the beast, no one knows.

Do you have any further information on the events that took place on 25th October in the Port of Bedlington or about any of the men in the story? If so, get in touch!