My Family Darwin Award Recipient – Don’t Drink and Snake

I was planning on bringing you a very sensible and useful ‘how to’ topic this week. But yesterday I discovered a family story too good not to share. These days I think it’s really important not to miss a chance to have a laugh, even if this occasion will be at the expense of one of my relatives!

My lot have included many contenders for a family Darwin Award over the centuries. Just saying. But this one takes the cake. Or should I say…snake!

Edward Horatio Girling, train conductor cum snake charmer

Edward Girling (not the same guy of that name that I’ve previously written about!) worked at the London Zoological Gardens. He was the head keeper of their snake collection. Not that he had any qualifications in animal husbandry.

Edward’s job history was essentially as a railway worker. He had been a ticket collector for several years for the London and North Western Railway at Rugby station in Warwickshire. Soon after the stationmaster died and a new one was appointed, Edward was transferred down to Euston Station where he didn’t last long before being dismissed. He then took up a position as a guard for Eastern Counties Railway. So we can safely presume I think that his exposure to venomous snakes was at best minimal.

However, geographically, if in no other way, he was suited to the position that came up at the London Zoo. He, like many railway workers of the time, was living in Camden Town, just a short stroll from Regents Park.

In approximately April 1851 he was appointed at a guinea a week by Mr D. W. Mitchell, the Secretary of the Zoological Society. Mr Mitchell reported at the inquest that he had arranged for full training, and had insisted that two rules be followed. ‘Don’t touch the snakes’, and ‘Don’t turn up to work drunk’. He’d also provided a bottle of Libama Cedron, said to be an antidote to cobra bites. Just in case. Perhaps he knew there was a family Darwin Award waiting to be earnt.

In addition to his lack of reptile handling experience, he was reported to be fond of the odd drink (can you see where this is going?). His ‘wife’ Sarah was a witness at his inquest. She was asked by the coroner if he was a sober man. “Yes”, she said, then proceeded to say that on days when he was still drunk by the time he had to leave for work in the morning, she would keep him home till he was fit to go!

The Reptile House at the London Zoo was state of the art for its time. It had opened to great fanfare in 1849, and people were enthralled by the glass enclosures which allowed them to get close to the animals in safety. There was an additional safety mechanism that was to protect the keepers as well, a wire contraption that allowed the snakes to be moved from one enclosure to another so their own surroundings could be cleaned or food and water provided. Edward Girling was to bypass all efforts to keep him safe at work though.

A Quick Celebratory Drink…

On the evening of October 19th 1852, Edward and his colleague Edward Stewart went out for a quick drink to farewell a friend who was leaving for Australia. At the inquest, Mr Stewart reported that they had three pints of beer with the friend, before spending the rest of the night at a pub in Shoe Lane during which time they each consumed three quarterns (3/4 of a pint) of gin. They then headed straight to work, arriving at 6 am.

And Now…for the Cobra!

Our Mr Girling was in quite an excitable state, though apparently ‘not tipsy’ despite their copious drinking and lack of sleep. Mr Stewart was the hummingbird keeper, though part of his role was to bring a basket of sparrows to the snake house as breakfast for them. On arrival with the sparrows, Girling opened a snake cage and brought out a Morocco snake, cried “I am inspired!’ and draped it around his friend’s neck. His friend was not impressed.

For his next trick, Girling announced, “NOW…for the COBRA!” His colleague protested vigorously at this, but it was too late. Edward Girling brought out the serpent with a flourish and stuffed it into his waistcoat. It went around his waist and appeared out of the back. Girling grabbed it about a foot behind the head and lifted it up to his face. Unsurprisingly, the cobra was quite miffed by now. In lieu of his breakfast sparrow, he instead struck at my forebear’s nose leaving 10 puncture wounds.

In his panic, Girling completely forgot he had a bottle of antidote. While his friend ran for help, he returned the snake to its cage and wiped the blood from his face. He was transported to University College Hospital but rapidly expired despite the best efforts of the doctors.

Fame at Last!

The newspapers had a field day, as they would in this day and age. I have found reports from all over the British Isles and the US breathlessly reporting the gory details of his post mortem and the inquest.

The jury found, not unexpectedly that Edward Girling’s death was brought about by his own ‘rashness and indiscretion’ while intoxicated.

Multiple letters to the Times stated that he should have been given large quantities of brandy and forced to stay awake in order to survive. I would argue that he was already primed in alcohol and lack of sleep, and it didn’t do him much good!

Best family Darwin Award ever.