On this day in 1868, Hannah Beswick was buried. Given that she was dead, this was not in itself unusual. It was the fact that she’d been dead over 110 years that made it… somewhat noteworthy. Hannah, you see, was The Manchester Mummy.
She’d been kept, and exhibited — “shrivelled and black” — at a number of places over the years, including her former doctor’s house, and the Museum of Manchester Natural History Society, spending much of her time in the case of an old grandfather clock.
The story starts with her brother being almost buried alive. According to Around the M60: Manchester’s Orbital Motorway, “he had actually been placed in his coffin and it was only just before the lid was to be screwed down that it was noticed his eyelids were flickering”.
Legend has it that Hannah immediately made a will leaving all her inherited wealth to the doctor, which rather begs the question: as the family doctor, wasn’t he the man who had declared her brother dead in the first place? But also, it’s just the legend…
The Journal of the History of Medicine in 1953 says the bequest, “estimated by some to have been not less than £25,000” doesn’t appear in her will. The sum of £100 does, which she left him to pay for arranging apprenticeships for some of her family.
She definitely made some kind of request to Dr White to protect her from premature burial — which was a big fear for people at the time.
The 18th and 19th centuries were peak time for this — there was even a London Association for the Prevention of Premature Burial established in 1896.
Accounts vary, but it appears Hannah wanted to stay “above ground” until Dr White was sure she was an ex-Beswick — but he took it upon himself to embalm her (“in tar, and swathed … in heavy bandages, leaving the face uncovered”, according to Around the M60).
She was kept in a glass-fronted coffin (which may have been an adapted grandfather clock case) until Dr White retired, at which point, inexplicably, she was apparently stuck on the roof of his house, Sale Priory — or possibly on the portico, if this illustration is accurate:
When White died, ‘Hannah’ found herself owned by a Dr Ollier, and he bequeathed her in 1828 to the Museum — where one of her visitors was apparently famed opium eater Thomas de Quincey. Finally, in 1867, the view was finally taken that Hannah was “irrevocably and unmistakably dead”, and into Harpurhey Cemetery she went.
In the intervening years, though, she had — OF COURSE — been haunting her old gaff.
Miss Beswick, you see, had been around at the same time as Bonnie Prince Charlie, and when he was marching about trying to be king, Hannah thought she should bury some of her fortune for safekeeping. Then, after she died, the house gave way to workers’ tenements.
OBVIOUSLY, many residents reported “a rustling of silk … followed by the apparition of a lady in black, who would glide through the room towards the parlour, where she would disappear at one particular flagstone”.
Well, there certainly seem to be records of this transaction — and therefore evidence of one lucky man’s payday — but documentary proof that Hannah’s ghost was involved is… elusive, let’s say. In the 20th century, the site became a factory, and Hannah was apparently still around.
She was ‘seen’ in 1956, 1968, 1972 and 1981. The first one apparently involved some night-shift workers and “a shadowy figure”, which suggests to me that someone somewhere has failed to grasp something pretty fundamental about night-time.
