Stop Press Murder by Peter Bartram – *Guest Post- The Scandalous Story of What the Butler Saw*


Today I have a guest post from the lovely Peter Bartram, talking all about those cheeky ‘What the Butler Saw machines’ in the amusement arcades. Never heard of them? You must have! They had saucy pictures on them, you know… *winks*

Peter’s latest book is Stop Press Murderset in 1960s swinging Brighton. It was released on 1st August 2016 and is available here to buy. I will be posting my review sometime soon. I do love a bit of crime set in sunny Brighton.

My review of the previous book in the series Headline Murder. Check it out…



By Peter Bartram

One of the more dubious attractions on Brighton’s Palace Pier back in the 1960s – the Swinging Sixties – was the row of What the Butler Saw machines in the amusement arcade. It’s the theft of a film from a What the Butler Saw machine on Palace Pier which sets my fictional journalist Colin Crampton off on his most dangerous adventure yet in Stop Press Murder.

For those too young to remember, What the Butler Saw machines were metal contraptions on spindly legs. The main part consisted of a cylindrical drum with a handle and a viewer. You put a penny in a slot, cranked a handle and watched a film through the viewer.

The film was invariably a silent movie which showed a young woman with a clothing difficulty. The difficulty being that she didn’t have her clothes on. By today’s standards, it was tame stuff, but still considered racy – even in a decade when men were growing their hair longer than ever and women were cutting theirs shorter.

The What the Butler Saw mechanism had actually been invented in 1894 by an American called Herman Casler. He called it a mutoscope. Unlike a conventional role of film, the machine contained a giant flip-book – a kind of huge Rolodex. A central reel held around 850 cards, each with a photograph. As you cranked the handle, the machine flipped the cards to create a jerky moving picture.

Casler’s original advertisement for the machine envisaged cultured ladies watching improving topics, such as scenes from Shakespeare’s plays. But his dream didn’t turn out quite like that. And the porn merchants of their day soon realised mutoscopes could be ideal for showing naughty films that couldn’t be displayed in cinemas (or bioscopes as they called them then). One of Casler’s machines ended up as a star attraction in the men’s lavatory on Rhyl pier in north Wales.

In 1899, Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells penned a letter to The Times to condemn their “vicious demoralising picture shows”. Added Disgusted: “It is hardly possible to exaggerate the corruption of the young that comes from exhibiting, under a strong light, nude female figures as living and moving, going into and out of baths, sitting as artists’ models, etc.”

Evidently, however, punters were paying their pennies and lapping it up. One contemporary report mentioned a film called “Birth of the Pearl” which had been partly damaged. The picture cards which had become most creased were those showing “full frontal nudity”.


So, how did Casler’s scientific name of mutoscope get dumped in favour of What the Butler Saw?

This dates from a sensational divorce case in 1884 between Lord Colin Campbell, a son of the Duke or Argyll, and his wife Gertrude, a celebrated beauty of the age. As the case developed, it turned dirty with each making allegations against the other.

Campbell claimed that Gertrude had been carrying on with a string of men, including Captain Sir Eyre Shaw, the head of the London fire brigade. To back up his case, Campbell brought in his butler who claimed to have watched Gertrude’s love-making with different men through the keyhole of her bedroom.

The issue became so heated that the judge adjourned the trial to the Campbell’s London house so that jury members could peer through the keyhole themselves and decide just how much the butler could have really seen. The phrase “what the butler saw” was used widely in newspapers – and has stuck ever since.


Stop Press Murder: a Crampton of the Chronicle Mystery by Peter Bartram is published by Roundfire Books.

There is a free Crampton taster novella – Murder in Capital Letters – available to download at


About Northern Crime

Reviewer with a mind of her own. This is a collection of book reviews, which started in 2014. Mostly crime and odd other genres thrown in. Some I loved. Some I loathed. You get the picture.
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3 Responses to Stop Press Murder by Peter Bartram – *Guest Post- The Scandalous Story of What the Butler Saw*

  1. crimeworm says:

    That wasn’t the only scandalous divorce in the Duke of Argyll’s family – Margaret was divorced in 1963 after her husband the Duke broke into her safe and found Polaroids of her performing a “sex act” (as the papers say!) on a man whose head was cut off at the top of the photo. She was pilloried for it, in court and the press, but to me it’s a perfect example of the misogyny prevalent in marriages and divorces back then. It’s also worth noting he’d hoovered his way through most of her available fortune on gambling and drink, so required a new heiress to take her place. It’s a fascinating story, worth reading more about, of a woman I’ve always felt sorry for – an early example of being “publicly shamed.” Interesting post Christine – reminds me of the naughty postcards in our PO which I’d look at when we went for sweets at 5 or 6 – I never could understand most of them!

    • Christine says:

      It reminds me of the Carry On films, Linda. Proper naughty British humour. We used to watch them on telly as children. It was only later, we found them full of double entendres. I love that!!!

  2. Pingback: Guest post on Northern Crime review site - Crime Mysteries with Colin Crampton

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