aristophanes

That Sweeney Todd film has been, for reasons both good or bad, the talk of the household ever since we went to see it, and has since brought about many jokes and speculations as to where our favorite resaurant gets such cheap salmon.

Now, I had been familiar with the "real" story of Sweeney Todd, hanged 1802, for some time. But today I was feeling inspired to possibly make up a screenplay for a more historically correct version, and so set about to do research. Sensible place to start seemed to be the records of the Old Bailey, which are all online for cases before 1820.
No results. No cases of anyone named Sweeney, or the surname Todd, or who was a barber turn up in the right period, at least not for murders.
I began searching around and found that other people have noticed this. The man who published the supposed court transcripts has been dead for some time, and that before the first person started noticing this inconsistency; therefore was unable to comment or defend himself. However, I know perfectly well historians sometimes tend to fabricate stories completely -- for example, my poor dad blew quite a bit of money trying to get a movie done based on the Cricket Coogler case of New Mexico, as a historian had come to him telling him the spectacular tale of her unsolved murder by a politician who bribed everyone in the town, and how the jury had to throw out the judge because he was in on it too, etc. Turned out it was all bollocks and the politicians family threatened to sue us all for libel once word of the thing was out.

Anyway, on the matter of Todd. The first story of "the demon barber of Fleet Street" was, evidently, acknowledged to be based on another supposedly true story set on the Rue de la Harpe in Paris. If it was indeed true -- then, shit, no wonder there's no records at the Bailey in London. But still it does have that usual suspicious mark of an urban legend, namely, no names. No dates, either.

Still, thanks to Google Books, who have given me so much help in recent weeks on all manner of research, I present you the original story that started it all!

HORRIBLE AFFAIR IN THE RUE DE LA HARPE AT PARIS.
In the Rue de la Harpe, which is a long dismal ancient street in the faux-bourg of St. Marcell, is a space or gap in the line of building upon which formerly stood two dwelling houses, instead of which stands now a melancholy memorial, signifying, that upon this spot no human habitation shall ever be erected, no human being ever must reside!
Curiosity will of course be greatly excited to ascertain what it was that rendered this devoted spot so obnoxious to humanity, and yet so interesting to history.
Two attached and opulent neighbours, residing in some province, not very remote from the French capital, having occasion to go to town on certain money transactions, agreed lo travel thence and to return together, which was to be done with as much expedition as possible. They were on foot, a very common way even at present, for persons of much respectability to travel in France, and were attended, as most pedestrians are, by a faithful dog.
Upon their arrival at the Rue de la Harpe, they stepped into the shop of a peruquier to be shaved, before they would proceed to business, or enter into the more fashionable streets. So limited was their time, and peremptory was their return, that the first man who was shaved, proposed to his companion, that while he was undergoing the operation of the razor, he who was already shaven would run and execute a small commission in the neighbourhood, promising that he would be back before the other was ready to move.
For this purpose he left the shop of the barber.
On returning, to his great surprise and vexation, he was informed that his friend was gone; but as the dog, which was the dog of the absentee, was sitting outside of the door, the other presumed he was only gone out for the moment, perhaps in pursuit of him ; so expecting him back every moment, he chatted to the barber whilst he waited his return.
Such a considerable time elapsed that the stranger now became quite impatient, he went in and out, up and down the street, still the dog remained stationed at the door. ' Did he leave no message ?' ' No;' all the barber knew was, that when he was shaved he went away. ' It was certainly very odd.'
The dog remaining stationed at the door was to the traveller conclusive evidence that his master was not far off; he went in and out, up and down the street again. Still no signs of him whatever.
Impatience now became alarm; alarm became sympathetic. The poor animal exhibited marks of restlessness in yelps and in howlings, which so affected the sensibility of the stranger, that he threw out some insinuations not much to the credit of the barber, who indignantly ordered him to quit his boutique.
In his agony, the afflicted man raised a crowd about the door, to whom he told his lamentable story. The dog became an object of universal interest, and of close attention. He shivered and he howled, but no seduction, no caressing, no experiment, could make him desert his post. Upon quitting the shop he found it impossible to remove the dog from the door. No whistling, no calling, no patting would do, stir he would not.
By some of the populace it was proposed to send tor the police, by others it was proposed a remedy more summary, namely to force in and search the house, which was immediately done. The crowd burst in, every apartment was searched, but in vain. There was no trace whatsoever of the countryman.
During this investigation, the dog still remained sentinel at the shop door, which was bolted within to keep out the crowd, which was immense outside.
After a fruitless search and much altercation, the barber, who had prevailed upon those who had forced in to quit his house, came to the door, and was haranguing the populace, declaring most solemnly his innocence, when the dog suddenly sprang upon him, flew at his throat in such a state of terrific exasperation, that his victim fainted, and was with the utmost difficulty rescued from being torn to pieces. The dog seemed to be in a state of intellectual
agony and fury.
It was now proposed to give the animal his way, to see what course he would pursue. The moment he was let loose, he flew through the shop, darted down stairs into a dark cellar, where he set up the most dismal howlings and lamentations.
Lights being procured, an aperture was discovered in the wall communicating to the next house, which was immediately surrounded, in the cellar whereof was found the body of the unfortunate man who had been missing. The person who kept this shop was a patissier.
It is unnecessary to say that those miscreants were brought to trial and executed. The facts that appeared upon their trial, and afterwards upon confession, were these :_
Those incautious travellers, whilst in the shop of this fiend, unhappily talked of the money they had about them, and the wretch, who was a robber and murderer by profession, as soon as the one turned his back, drew his razor across the throat of the other and plundered him.
The remainder of the story is almost too horrible for human ears, but is not upon that account the less credible.
The pastry-cook, whose shop was so remarkable for savory patties that they were sent for to the Rue de la Harpe, from the most distant parts of Paris, was the partner of this perriquier, and those who were murdered by the razor of the one were concealed by the knife of the other in those very identical patties, by which, independently of his partnership in those frequent robberies, he had made a fortune.
This case was of so terrific a nature, it was made part of the sentence of the law, that besides the execution of the monsters upon the rack, the houses in which they perpetrated those infernal deeds, should be pulled down, and that the spot on which they stood should be marked out to posterity with horror and execration.

EDIT: My research continues, and I find an interesting fact. According to an edition of The Saturday Magazine, there were some Roman ruins by the Rue de la Harpe (and maybe there still are.) In 1819 -- about 6 years before the above story was published -- the Department of the Seine purchased the property and intended to make a museum out of it. They started by tearing down two houses that were blocking the view from the street. Perhaps this is where the tale of the demolished houses and the marker declaring there should not be houses built on the spot, came from...