A second, much deeper wound, almost 8in long, extended from the right-hand corner of her mouth across the cheek, below the right ear, to the centre of the back of the nape. This wound divided all of the principle veins and arteries and exposed the lower jaw bone, the right side of the base of the skull, and the upper vertebrae of the spine.
Separated from the second, by a narrow strip of skin in the centre of the back of the neck, another major wound, 4in long, extended from the centre of the back of the neck to below the left ear. This led to the left side of the base of the skull and upper vertebrae of the spine being exposed.
Eliza had clearly put up a desperate struggle to defend herself, as the doctor discovered several defensive wounds to her hands and elbows, and there were cuts to the palm of her right hand and the back of the right arm. He believed that the razor found at the scene of the crime was the murder weapon, and this had been responsible for all of her injuries.
The chief constable arrived and organised a search of the town. He also ordered Inspector Fearn to travel to Burton by the turnpike road, and Detective Sergeant Thomas Vessey to travel there by train. Constable Spibey was sent to Nottingham, and Inspector John Green was put in charge of the local search.
As he made his way to the railway station, Detective Sergeant Vessey, who knew Thorley, thought he may have opted to remain in Chesterfield, and he therefore decided to call at a number of public houses to look for him. One of the first he called at was the Spa Inn on Abbey Street, at which the landlord, Thomas Chapman, advised the officer that Thorley had called in at a few minutes past eight o’clock. He had ordered beer and rum, and the landlord had noticed a handkerchief wrapped around his right hand and blood could be seen between his thumb and forefinger. When asked how he had come by the injury, Thorley had replied that he had been fighting a gang of Irishmen in the Abbey Inn. Before leaving the Spa Inn, Thorley had shaken hands with everyone in the establishment and bade them farewell, almost as though he realised he would never return. Suspicious of what he had been told by Thorley, Mr Chapman immediately went to the Abbey Inn, where he was informed there had been no fight similar to that described.
The detective called in several more public houses before eventually spotting Thorley walking towards him, on Canal Street. Thorley recognised the police officer, who said, ‘Dick, I want you. I charge you with the murder of that young woman in Agard Street’. To which his prisoner replied, ‘Well, I can’t help it. I’ve done it. I’m glad it’s you that came to take me, but I won’t go till I have lit my cigar’. He continued by saying, ‘Well I’m glad on some accounts, but sorry on others’.
Detective Sergeant Vessey took Thorley into the New Inn where he searched him. He noticed dried blood on both of his hands, and in his pockets found three halfpennies, a songbook and some blank paper, all of which were stained with blood. As they left the inn, Thorley, who must have already realised what his probable fate was to be, asked a favour of the officer, ‘Let me go up Canal Street, as it may be the last time I shall be able to do so.’ His request was granted and the two men walked together along the street as they made their way to the police station.
Within three hours of the crime being committed, Thorley was charged with Eliza’s murder by the chief constable. The accused spent the night in the cells before being roused by Inspector Green the following morning with his breakfast. He said, ‘Good morning. This is a bad job Dick. How came you did it?’ To which Thorley replied, ‘I never made my mind up till Tuesday night’.
It had been planned to take the accused man to the magistrates’ court in line with normal practice, but news of the murder had spread rapidly, and a large and hostile crowd had gathered in the town centre, making such a journey impossible. It was therefore decided that the magistrates would walk to the police station to hold the first hearing.
Thorley appeared before the magistrates in the Bankruptcy Room of the County Gaol on Thursday, 20 February, and it was at this hearing that he was committed to stand trial at the next assizes for the wilful murder of Eliza. This had also been the outcome of the inquest into her death, which had been held at the Town Hall two days after the crime, before the coroner Mr J. Vallack.
Eliza’s funeral took place during the afternoon of the Monday following her death. As usual on such occasions, following a notorious murder, large crowds had assembled along the route from her home to the Nottingham Road Cemetery. Her grave was located in the fourth class ground, next to that of John Harrison, beadle of All Saints’ Church, who had also died recently. They were buried simultaneously, and the services in the chapel and at the gravesides were read in alternate portions by the Revds E.W. Foley and J.E. Clarke.
Thorley’s trial should have started during the afternoon of Saturday, 22 March 1862 before Mr Justice Williams. However, although Mr Manson and Mr Huish who represented the Crown were present, Mr Yeatman, the defence barrister was nowhere to be seen. As a search for the missing lawyer began, the jury complained to the judge about the delay. Judge Williams decided to wait a further thirty minutes, and during this interval he dealt with another case. This was of Thomas Prime, who was sentenced to one month’s imprisonment, having pleaded guilty to an indecent assault. At the conclusion of this case, Mr Yeatman had still not been located, and an angry judge adjourned the trial’s start until the following Tuesday. Fortunately for Mr Yeatman, the judge had by then calmed down and accepted his apology, after he explained that on the previous Saturday afternoon he had been told by a member of the court staff that the trial would not be starting that day due to lack of court time.
Thorley pleaded not guilty, and the Crown opened its case by advising the jury that manslaughter was not an appropriate charge in this case, as this was a premeditated and callous murder. The prosecution called the witnesses who had previously given evidence at the inquest and before the magistrates at the committal hearing. The neighbours provided compelling descriptions of the crime; others told of the build up to the murder, especially during the preceding week; and police officers told of Thorley’s claims to have decided to kill her on the Tuesday night. Furthermore, the results of the post-mortem proved, the prosecution alleged, that the victim had put up a desperate struggle to save her life, and to have succeeded in inflicting the wounds that he did, Thorley must have been extremely determined to kill her. The motive was clear; if he could not have Eliza, nobody could.
The defence did not cross-examine the prosecution witnesses, and called Thorley to give his account of what had occurred. In a matter-of-fact voice, he told of inflicting the fatal wounds with his razor, and after his client had finished his statement, Mr Yeatman addressed the jury and suggested that although the crime was ‘almost murder’, the accused was in fact guilty of manslaughter.
To persuade them of this proposition, Mr Yeatman made the best of what he had, as any defence barrister would. He told the jury that they must be satisfied that there was malice aforethought, and that it was a premeditated act. He pointed to the large number of wounds, any one of which could have killed her, and suggested that this indicated he was not acting coolly and deliberately as the Crown was implying, but that he was acting in a passionate frenzy.
As for the Crown’s claim that following his arrest he had told police that it was on the Tuesday night that he had decided to kill Eliza later in the week, Mr Yeatman reminded the jury that he had made that alleged statement without the benefit of a solicitor being present; furthermore, no notes had been kept that could be produced at the trial. Thus, he suggested, there were grounds for the jury members to have reasonable doubts as to whether Thorley had described this as a premeditated act, as the police were claiming.
Mr Yeatman also pointed out that following the crime, his client had not fled the town, as the chief constable had thought he would, but rather he remained in the immediate vicinity of the crime, and had surrendered meekly when approached by the arresting officer. This, he proposed, was not what a man who had carefully planned a serious crime wou
ld have done.
William Calcraft, who executed Thorley. (The Illustrated Police News)
Finally, the defence barrister called two character witnesses, Thorley’s former landlady, and the brother of his late wife. Both spoke of his kindness and his usually placid temperament.
In his detailed summing up, the judge made it clear that he had little sympathy with the defence arguments. He told the jury that there were no grounds for a finding of manslaughter, and if they believed that the accused had killed the victim, there was only one possible verdict, and that was one of wilful murder. The jury took three minutes to decide that they agreed with the prosecution’s case, and the judge immediately put on the black cap and sentenced Thorley to death.
Held in Derby Gaol, Thorley seemed resigned to his fate, and as he awaited his execution he spent much of the time in the gaol’s chapel and in his cell with the chaplain. He sought solace by reading two pamphlets repeatedly; these were ‘A Companion for the Prisoner’, published by the Christian Knowledge Society, and the Religious Tract Society’s ‘The Prisoner’s Friend’.
On the eve of his execution he received his last family visit, which lasted two hours, during which he said his farewells to his mother, sisters and brothers. After they left he returned to his cell, where, in the early hours of the morning, he wrote a full confession, which ended:
Ultimately, I committed the act for which I am about to suffer very justly; and I pray God it may be a warning to all, and that God for Christ’s sake will pardon my sins which have been many, and particularly that for which I am about to die.
Robert Thorley, 2 a.m. Friday, 11 April 1862
He slept for a few hours before attending chapel for the last time. As he left he bade farewell to the male and female prisoners who had also attended the service, saying, ‘Goodbye. Let my fate be a warning to you all’. He joined the procession of prison staff and other officials and walked calmly to his death. He remained composed to the end, and his final act was to shake hands with the executioner, William Calcraft.
He was hanged at noon and died instantly. After the body was cut down, his head was shaved and a death mask made before his burial in the prison grounds. He had no possessions except for a hymnbook, which he left to his sister, and which was inscribed;
Hannah Brierley,
With her brother Richard’s dying love.
April 11th 1862.
6
THE GREAT JURY SCANDAL
Derby, 1879
It was a few minutes after four o’clock on the afternoon of Saturday, 12 July 1879, when Constable John Shirley, who was in the Wardwick in Derby, saw a horse and trap being driven towards him at great speed. As the trap approached it swerved violently from side to side, and it was obvious to the officer that it posed a danger to those in its path. As it drew nearer he could see that it was being driven by a well-dressed young man, accompanied by a female passenger, both of whom were clearly drunk.
Concerned for the safety of the couple and others, Constable Shirley stepped off the pavement into the path of the advancing trap, and raising his hand, shouted for the man to stop. The driver ignored his instruction and continued on his way. The officer immediately requisitioned a cab and set off in pursuit. Two of his colleagues, Constables Joseph Moss and John Clamp, had also witnessed the incident, and followed on foot.
The trap slowed down as it neared the Traveller’s Rest and turned into the courtyard. Constable Shirley followed a short distance behind, and was joined a few minutes later by his two colleagues.
The police officers found the woman staggering about the courtyard, hopelessly drunk, and the man still sitting in the trap. Shirley removed the reins from the man’s grip, before advising him that he was to be arrested for being drunk. To this the man replied, ‘It’s all right, what are you going to have to drink?’ When Shirley replied that he would not be having a drink with him, the man continued, ‘It’s all right, my father was a magistrate in Staffordshire; come and have something to drink and say no more about it’. Ignoring this offer, Shirley told his prisoner that he would have to accompany him to the police station. The drunk suggested that the constable should ‘Jump on behind, I will drive you down’. Shirley, however, ordered him to get down from the trap.
The shootings. (The Illustrated Police News)
Meanwhile, the other officers were struggling to restrain the woman, who was behaving in an abusive and violent manner. The struggle continued until she fell to the ground, which meant that the three officers were eventually able to arrest her. Shirley had been able to help his colleagues as he had left the man, who was apparently placated, leaning quietly against a wall. The situation now seemingly under control, Clamp and Moss took the inebriated couple to the police office in the cab, and Shirley followed them in the trap.
In the cab however, the woman again began to cause difficulties for the two officers, who were having great problems in keeping her under control. The man shouted out, ‘Jesus Christ, I shall have to pay a lot for this. It will cost me £100, but they don’t know me, and I shall not tell my name!’
News of the shooting spread quickly and a large crowd gathered outside the lock-up. (The Illustrated Police News)
Unbeknown to the three police officers, a witness to the events at the Traveller’s Rest had been Henry Wibberley, a cab driver. It would emerge later that as the three officers had struggled to control the woman, he had heard the man say in a low but menacing voice, ‘If you lay a hand on me, I will shoot you!’ This threat had been directed towards the police officers, but none of them had heard him utter the words; if they had, they might possibly have been able to take steps to prevent the tragedy that would soon begin to unfold.
It was half-past four by the time the officers and their prisoners arrived in the police office yard. Constables Clamp and Moss escorted their prisoners into the charge room, which was quite small, and in which Constable Price, the duty officer that afternoon, was sitting at his desk behind the counter. Detective Inspector Ashley Spibey entered the room, and noticed that the male prisoner appeared subdued and was leaning against the counter, whereas the woman was continuing to cause significant problems for his officers. The inspector shouted to his wife, who was employed by the force as a female searcher, to come and help. His intention was to charge the woman first and place her in a cell so that she could cause no further trouble, and then deal with the man.
Constable Moss is carried from the scene of the crime. (The Illustrated Police News)
Unfortunately this was to prove more difficult than first thought, for she continued to resist furiously. She lashed out and hit Clamp in the face, screaming, ‘I will not be locked up!’ She managed to struggle free from Moss, Shirley and Spibey, which prompted Price to emerge from behind his desk, shouting, ‘We will have none of this!’ The number of officers struggling with her was now five, and they almost had her under control when the male prisoner shouted, ‘I will have no more of that!’ which was followed immediately by a shot.
Constable Moss cried out, ‘I am shot!’ and his startled colleagues turned to see the prisoner brandishing a revolver. Price rushed at the prisoner, but as he did so the man levelled his gun at him and pulled the trigger. Price fell, clutching his arm, as Spibey and Shirley grappled the man to the floor. However, they were unable to prevent him from firing another shot as they struggled to take the gun from him.
Although drunk, his female companion came to her senses and screamed in terror. She grabbed Clamp’s arm, but the officer managed to free himself from her grip and went to the assistance of his colleagues. As he and Shirley grabbed the man by the throat, a fourth shot was fired. Spibey then shouted, ‘I have it!’ and took possession of the gun, which he handed to his wife.
Having the prisoner under control, the inspector ordered him to be put in a cell, and when Spibey asked him his name the prisoner replied, ‘Jeremiah Smith from Jerusalem’. When advised that he was to be charged with shooting two police officers and caus
ing them grievous bodily harm, he declared, ‘I would shoot the devil if he was here’.
Lieutenant Colonel William Addis Delacombe, chief constable of the Derby Borough Police Force, was informed of the shootings, and assumed personal charge of the case as soon as he arrived at the police station, where, following a search, he retrieved two of the four bullets that had been fired. The second to have been fired, which had passed through Price’s helmet, missing his head by a fraction of an inch, was found lodged in the door which led to the cell area. The fourth shot, which had been fired accidentally during the struggle, was embedded in one of the walls. The first shot had entered Moss’s right side, and the third had hit Price in his left arm, and these bullets remained in the victims’ bodies.
Colonel Delacombe examined the weapon, which proved to be a five-chambered revolver, in which one bullet remained. Tests would later confirm that this matched the four bullets which had been fired during the incident. The colonel thus possessed strong eyewitness and ballistics evidence.
Finding the still as yet unidentified prisoners too drunk to interview, the colonel made his way to the infirmary to check on the progress of Moss and Price. The latter’s wound was 1in above his left elbow, and although none of the main arteries had been severed, he had lost a large quantity of blood. Nevertheless, the wound was not life threatening.
Moss, however, was in a much more serious condition. He was in a state of severe shock, and was experiencing great difficulty in breathing. The bullet had entered 4in below his right nipple and had caused a considerable amount of internal damage. There was little likelihood of his recovering, and it was decided to take a deposition from him. This was witnessed by the colonel and one of the physicians, Dr Taylor, who was also a magistrate.
Derbyshire Murders Page 6
