A gentleman and wife murderer

Who'd have thought this apparently respectable chap, a French teacher and upstanding member of Edinburgh society, had just callously used opium to poison and murder his wife?

Today Eugene Chantrelle's image is just one in a fascinating collection of Victorian police photographs that capture the area's criminals, bands of thieves, tricksters and villains - mug shots in a riveting "Linlithgowshire Rogues Gallery" of Victorian low life.

Dozens of images - probably the only time most of those unfortunate enough to be in police custody would ever have the "honour" of having their photograph taken - are contained in a leather bound book now held by Edinburgh City Archives.

Dating from 1875, it is the only surviving book of its kind in the area - a relic from a time when police were beginning to use modern technology of the camera to help them keep track of criminals but well before today's sophisticated crime fighting methods.

As well as the grainy images of criminals - some of them posing in ragged jackets, unkempt hair and grimy faces in front of seemingly lavish backgrounds - there are sometimes remarkably brief, other times extravagantly detailed, accounts of their misdemeanours.

Some, like the crimes of a trio of young Bo'ness Fair pickpockets and a plump young woman accused of stealing washing, are far less serious than Chantrelle's shocking murderous deed.

And others, such as the then Lord Clinton and his dandy friends, Ernest Boulton and Frederick Park, wanted around the country for their outrageous tendency to dress as women. One shot shows them posing together looking every inch landed gentry, while in others, they are resplendent in bustle, satin frock and ruffles.

Richard Hunter, the city archivist, says the Rogues Gallery book is one of the last surviving in the country and is a revealing and engrossing snapshot of a unique element of Victorian life in all its ragged and grim reality.

He says: "Many of these books were destroyed years ago - once the crimes had been solved and the sentence passed, the criminals long gone, there was no real need to retain them.

"But at one time there would have been hundreds of books like these throughout Scotland, each area would have its own.

"When someone was arrested, their picture would be taken and circulated around the various police offices and put in the book.In most cases, it would be the only time these people would ever be photographed."

Many of the images show prisoners standing next to the same chair - presumably to help officers establish some indication of their height.

And others have them purposefully holding up their hands, another means of helping to identify them, adds Richard.

"These were days when people were involved in rough work with no health and safety, so missing fingers and scars were common.

"Someone might grow a beard to hide their features, but there was nothing they could do to disguise their hands."

Some of those captured locally - like Eugene Chantrelle - would spend time in the City Chambers own cells, a trio of small rooms with sturdy wooden doors and massive locks deep within the High Street building.

Chantrelle was taken there in disgrace, his plot to cash in a 1000 insurance policy on his late wife in tatters as police suspected the unfortunate Elizabeth had been murdered.

The suave Chantrelle came to Edinburgh from Canada in 1866 as a teacher of languages. Within a year the 34-year-old had seduced the bedazzled Elizabeth, then just 15.

Her pregnancy sealed her fate - faced with the shame of an illegitimate child, her parents agreed she would marry Chantrelle.

But he was abusive and vile, he battered his wife regularly leaving her with dreadful injuries.

By 1877 they had three children but Chantrelle's days were spent drinking whisky at the Hanover Hotel or frequenting brothels.

On New Year's Eve, three months after Chantrelle had taken out insurance cover on his wife's life, the couple's maid discovered Elizabeth desperately ill in her bed, apparently overcome by escaping gas.

Her family physician, however, suspected something more sinister.

He believed Lizzie may have been deliberately poisoned - her symptoms seemed similar to that of opium poisoning.

A police investigation concluded Chantrelle had deliberately loosened the gas fitting to make his wife's condition appear accidental, traces of opium in vomit on her pillow suggested she had been drugged.

Chantrelle was tried, found guilty and sentenced to death.

But while he gained infamy as the first person to be hanged at Calton Jail, in May 1878, others who shared Rogues' Gallery space with the killer were often far less of a threat to their fellow man - pickpockets, cardsharps, housebreakers and sheep thieves, gangs who stole chickens and women wrapped in shawls with their long skirts and who nicked petticoats.

For them there were be months in prison, hard labour - and the knowledge that their mug shot was now in the Rogues' Gallery where it would remain for years to come.

n The Linlithgowshire Rogues Gallery book is held at the Edinburgh City Archives, City Chambers. For more information, go to archives website www.lothianlives.org.uk

Dude looks like a lady

In the 1870s, men who opted to wear women's clothing were considered a public mischief and same-sex relationships were a felony.

Which is why the Linlithgowshire Rogues Gallery features a set of pictures under the title "The Female Personators".

The photos feature Lord Arthur Pelham Clinton MP; Ernest Boulton, an amateur singer and actor; and William Park, a law student. The trio were known to socialise together but it was Park and Boulton's tendency to wear lavish dresses that drew most attention.

Boulton had Edinburgh connections, a childhood friend and an acquaintance - thought to be the reason why police in the area included their images in the book.