Dead Man's Chair
British counterfeiter and all-around shady character Thomas Busby was executed in 1702 for the cold-blooded slaying of his father-in-law. Although no longer present in body, it is said that his legacy of spite lives on to this day in the form of an old oak chair that claims lives as it sees fit.
While one would like to think that even the worst among us have some redeeming qualities, such was not the case with Thomas Busby. A career criminal, he was a swindler without conscience. If he found someone to take advantage of, he didn’t hesitate to do so. His was, by all accounts, a dark soul beyond redemption.
Daniel Auty was both Busby’s father-in-law and partner in crime. Kindred spirits, the men were born swindlers cut from the same cloth. Naturally, since there is no honor among thieves, their partnership would eventually come to a tragic end.
Busby, who had amassed a small fortune thanks to his criminal pursuits, had used a portion of his ill-gotten gains to purchase an inn/pub. With a fully stocked bar at his disposal, the establishment soon became his favorite hangout. An unabashed alcoholic, he could be found every night knocking back one pint after another with his cohorts.
The relationship between Busby and Auty had soured in the weeks leading up to their final showdown. Their once cordial dealings were now marred by constant bickering. Things came to a head one evening when Busby entered his establishment and found his father-in-law perched on his favorite chair.
Everyone who frequented the pub knew that the space was reserved for Busby. He had made it clear from the get-go that the chair was his and his alone. He warned that if he ever caught anyone else sitting in his spot, there would be hell to pay. As it turned out, he wasn’t joking.
Upon being subjected to Auty’s perceived show of disrespect, Busby had jerked the older man to his feet and thrown him out into the street. Later that night, his resentment having reached its boiling point, he had gone to his father-in-law’s house and beaten him to death with a hammer.
After learning of the slaying, police had set out in search of their one and only suspect, Thomas Busby. True to form, they found him sitting on his chair in the pub, three sheets to the wind, without a care in the world.
As they were hauling him off to jail, he was said to have made one final proclamation. Knowing that he would not be coming back, he had called out, “May sudden death come to anyone who dares sit in my chair.”
Given the source, no one had thought much of the outburst at the time. It wouldn’t be long, however, before they would come to believe that a curse had been lain that could never be lifted.
When he had his day in court, Busby was convicted of the crime of murder and sentenced to death. In a bit of irony that was lost on no one, the location of the gallows from which he would be hanged happened to be only a stone’s throw away from the pub that had once been his second home.
Busby’s execution turned out to be particularly brutal. Before the noose was placed around his neck, he was covered in tar. After he was pronounced dead, his body was left on a stoop for everyone to see. If nothing else, it served to remind the townspeople that for every deviant action there is an equivalent reaction.
In an attempt to capitalize on the former proprietor’s notoriety, the people who took over ownership of the tavern renamed it Busby’s Stoop Inn. The chair that had figured so prominently in the story of the warring in-laws remained on the premises. Anyone who wished to sit on it was welcome to do so, but not before absolving management of any liability should things end badly.
In 1894, a chimney sweep had stopped by the pub and plopped down in the chair that had once belonged to Busby. He and another fellow had then proceeded to drink each other under the table. After having a few too many, the pair had headed home. The next morning, the chimney sweep’s body was found hanging from the gibbet in the square.
Initially ruled a suicide, it was discovered years later that he had been robbed and murdered by his drinking buddy who had finally come clean on his deathbed.
Situated near a military installment, the inn was a magnet for servicemen. During World War II, a pair of Canadian officers visited the pub, both of whom took a turn in the tainted oak chair. It was later learned that neither survived their next mission.
They wouldn’t be the only ones. Over the years, it became common knowledge that soldiers who sat in the chair would not make it home from battle. Even so, some of the foolhardier among them were willing to try their luck; a gamble that seldom paid off in their favor.
In one memorable incident, a truck carrying members of the Royal Air Force band picked up two servicemen who were trying to make their way back to the base on foot. As they passed the inn, one of the men asked if they could stop so he could run inside and use the facilities.
Even though he was in a hurry to get back to the barracks, the driver obliged. After accompanying his passenger into the establishment, he took the nearest empty seat while he waited to get back on the road. Unfortunately for him, it happened to be Busby’s chair.
The minutes ticked by with no sign of the airman. After coming to the conclusion that he must have gotten a ride from someone else, the driver headed to the truck and went about his way.
A little while later, the other man emerged from his lengthy restroom break to find that he had been left behind. Thoroughly put out, he ventured into the night and began his long walk back to base.
By the time he reached his destination, he was as mad as a hornet. Storming over to the driver, he bashed him in the head repeatedly. Stunned observers sprang into action, but it was too late. The driver’s injuries were so severe that he was pronounced dead shortly after the attack.
In 1968, two men entered the pub and, upon seeing the vacant chair, started daring each other to try it out. After a few drinks, one of them took the bait. Not wanting to be outdone, the other told him to get up so he could have a turn. Patrons recalled that the pair were feeling no pain when closing time rolled around. They would later learn that the men were killed in an automobile accident soon after leaving the inn.
On some occasions, Busby’s chair could be as unforgiving as its namesake. In the early 1970s, a cleaner who was mopping the floor accidentally bumped into it, sending the piece toppling over on its side. Although she had not sat in the chair, the woman died soon after from a brain tumor.
The next few years saw more of the same. A regular patron who decided to try his luck with the chair dropped dead from a heart attack moments later. A construction worker who sat in the chair during his break was killed later that same day when he fell through the roof of the building site.
A hitchhiker who sat briefly in the chair, inexplicably walked out of the pub and into the path of an oncoming car.
With the death toll rising, the inn’s owner at the time decided that the chair might not be good for business and moved it to the cellar where it could do no harm. All was well and good until one afternoon when a beer deliveryman who was stocking the cellar threw caution to the wind and plopped down on the chair, an action that would prove to be one of his last. After leaving the inn, the van he was driving careened off the road, killing him instantly. The crash had occurred less than an hour after his having sat in the cursed chair.
Upon learning of this latest fatality, the proprietor of the Busby’s Stoop Inn knew that the chair had to go. Rather than throwing it out, he donated the piece to the Thirsk Museum in North Yorkshire where, as of now, it remains on display for the world to see.
When all was said and done, over fifty deaths were tied to the inconspicuous antique earning it the nickname ‘Dead Man’s Chair.’ Although none of them had taken the curse seriously, some of the victims had spoken of a tingling sensation that coursed through their bodies as soon as they sat down. They thought it odd at the time, but not particularly ominous. Unfortunately, few lived long enough to ponder its meaning.
Busby’s Stoop Inn closed its doors in 2012, some thirty-four years after the chair was removed from the premises. During that time, coincidentally or not, the sudden deaths of patrons declined considerably.
Those wishing to visit the Thirsk to see the object of doom in person are welcome to do so. Just know that sitting on it is forbidden. Since some people don’t know what’s good for them, the museum’s curators have taken measures to ensure their patrons’ safety. In an effort to keep the curse in check, Busby’s chair is suspended five feet off the ground. The method has worked for decades, but as we all know, nothing is foolproof.
For more stories of the paranormal, true crime, and the unexplained, visit amazon.com/author/cindyparmiter.
Resources:
·unsolvedmysteries.fandom.com
·wiki.com
·hauntingrealm.com
·theparanormalguide.com
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