On an October night in 1878, the winds off Somerset Long Bay were restless, churning the water into dark, choppy waves. A faint glow from oil lamps flickered in the small cottage where Anna Regina Skeeters lived with her husband, Edward. Behind closed doors, the air was thick with tension — the kind that had become all too familiar to those who knew them.
By morning, Anna was gone.
What followed was not simply a murder investigation. It was a test of Bermuda’s fragile justice system — a system built on unpaid, part-time constables, working without training, resources, or coordination. A system that would soon be found wanting.
Her disappearance — and the grim discovery that followed — would spark outrage, force reform, and lead to the creation of Bermuda’s first professional police force.
Bermuda in the mid-19th century was, in many ways, still a colonial outpost clinging to old habits. While London had established the Metropolitan Police in 1829 under Sir Robert Peel, the island’s approach to law enforcement remained rooted in an 18th-century model.
The 1786 “Police Act” introduced the word “police” into local law, but the role was more of a reluctant civic duty than a profession. Each parish appointed a small number of constables — often by pressuring men into the job under threat of a £5 fine if they refused.
These parish constables were rarely trained and only earned small fees for specific tasks, like serving warrants or making arrests. By the 1870s, a nominal wage had been introduced, but the role was still part-time. Many appointees were farmers, tradesmen, or labourers first and constables second.
And quality varied wildly. Contemporary accounts questioned whether some constables could even read or write. There was little oversight, no standard procedure, and certainly no dedicated investigative unit.
The shortcomings were obvious. In 1867, Thomas Burrows Browne, a volunteer rural constable, was stabbed to death while apprehending an escaped prisoner. The killer was declared insane and locked away, but no major policing reform followed.
By the late 1870s, crime, both petty and serious, was on the rise. Lawmakers quietly debated whether Bermuda needed a modern police force. But as with so many reforms, nothing happened until tragedy made inaction impossible.
Anna Evans married Edward James Skeeters in 1869. On paper, theirs was a respectable union: Edward was a fisherman and labourer; Anna was the daughter of a local family. In reality, the marriage was turbulent and violent.
Friends and neighbours recalled arguments that escalated into blows. Edward’s temper was fierce, his sense of ownership over his wife absolute. On one occasion, Anna fled the home for three weeks after a particularly vicious episode. She eventually returned — whether out of hope for reconciliation, social pressure, or simple lack of alternatives, no one could say.
On October 20, 1878, Anna disappeared. Edward told a local Justice of the Peace that she had “run off,” taking his money and some of her clothes. He cast himself as a wronged husband.
But Anna’s friends were unconvinced. They knew she had been afraid. They doubted she would vanish voluntarily without telling anyone. And they knew Edward’s temper.
Their suspicions reached the parish constable, who, to his credit, decided to search the Skeeters’ cottage on Mangrove Bay. The scene inside told a different story: items of Anna’s clothing, hidden away, stained with blood.
By now, the whispers of a runaway wife had turned into the fear of something far worse.
Searching for a missing person in 1878 Bermuda was an exercise in improvisation. Without a central police force, the effort relied on a handful of parish constables, a Justice of the Peace, and volunteers from the community.
Word spread quickly, and locals joined the search. The bay itself drew attention. Crews used a “creeper,” a crude grappling device dragged along the seabed, to probe for anything unusual.
One day, the grappling hook caught on something heavy. It couldn’t be pulled to the surface. A diver went down to investigate.
What he saw under the murky water was chilling: the body of a woman, bound with rope to a massive stone boulder.
It was Anna. She was 41 years old.
The water had slowed the decay but not enough to hide the horror. Her body was in an advanced state of decomposition. The rough seas of the previous week had somehow calmed directly over the spot where she lay, a still patch that led fishermen to investigate.
The rope and stone were brought up with her, stark evidence of a deliberate attempt to conceal the crime.
There was no gunshot wound, no obvious stab marks. The cause of death was uncertain. But Dr. B.W. Biddlecomb, who examined the remains, determined she had not drowned. She was likely already dead before entering the water — perhaps strangled, beaten, or both.
Edward Skeeters was arrested immediately.
The trial in early 1879 drew crowds to the Supreme Court in Hamilton. Newspapers called it “The Somerset Mystery.”
The prosecution laid out its case: Edward had motive — a history of violence toward his wife. He had means — a punt for fishing and familiarity with the bay. And he had opportunity — the night Anna vanished, he was alone.
The bloody clothing found in his cottage spoke volumes. The rope and stone matched materials in his possession.
Witness after witness testified to Edward’s temper. His own father told the court he had once seen Edward knock Anna to the ground, saying she was his wife and he could do as he pleased. Friends recalled Anna’s fear and her brief flight from the marriage weeks earlier.
Edward’s defence argued there was no direct proof — no one had seen the murder. But the jury was unmoved.
Guilty.
The sentence was death by hanging.
While awaiting execution in Hamilton Gaol, Edward began to write. He produced a detailed — and, by many accounts, self-serving — account of the events leading to Anna’s death.
In it, he confessed, expressed remorse, and claimed to have made peace with God. The booklet, The Somerset Mystery, was published after his trial and survives in the Bermuda Archives today.
On July 2, 1879, at 7:00 a.m., Edward was led to the gallows, hidden from public view by canvas sheets. His final words were not recorded. He was buried on Burt’s Island in the Great Sound.
The boulder he had used to sink Anna was placed at his head as a grave marker.
The shock of the case reverberated across Bermuda. People were horrified not only by the murder but by the haphazard way it had been handled. There had been no trained officers to take the missing person report, no formal investigative team to gather evidence, no chain of command to direct the search.
The verdict was clear: the old system of rural constables had failed.
In October 1879, just months after Edward’s execution, the Bermuda Parliament passed the Police Establishment Act. For the first time, the island had a salaried, full-time police force.
Ten officers were hired. Superintendent J.C.B. Clarke, a former British Army officer, took command in Hamilton. Chief Constable Henry Dunkley oversaw St. George’s. Three constables were posted to each town, and two to Sandys Parish.
The old rural constables were retained as auxiliaries, but the centre of gravity had shifted. Bermuda now had a police force in the modern sense.
The change was immediate. By 1901, the force tripled in size and began requiring recruits to read and write — a direct response to the earlier criticism that some constables were illiterate. The law also hinted at the future need for detectives, acknowledging that serious crimes required specialized investigation.
For the first time, police kept systematic crime records, responded with set procedures, and could be disciplined for neglect of duty.
While domestic violence was still largely considered a “private matter” in the 19th century, Anna’s murder forced the public to confront the deadly consequences of ignoring it.
Today, police in Bermuda are trained to respond to domestic abuse cases. In 1878, Anna’s friends had to beg a Justice of the Peace to take her disappearance seriously. In 2025, such a report would launch an immediate investigation.
The physical reminders of the case are still here. Burt’s Island, where Edward is buried, is sometimes called “Murderer’s Island.” Skeeters Corner, near Daniel’s Head, bears the family name. The boulder that once held Anna’s body to the sea floor remains on land, as the headstone of Edwards’ corpse.
And while Anna’s grave may be unmarked, her impact is not.
She changed how an island policed itself.
