The Chieftain: Victorian True Crime Through The Eyes of a Scotland Yard Detective

by Payne, Chris

  Correspondence was also taking place between the commissioner’s office and the Procurator Fiscal to establish the extent of any corruption involving Scotland Yard officers and the Scottish police: ‘If I can get a photograph of Meiklejohn it will be sent to you … The prosecution of the Turf Swindlers is now in the hands of the Treasury Solicitor and Meiklejohn is I understand to be summoned as a witness. Any further information you can gather will be very useful.’16 However, despite this initial flurry of activity, it was to be some months before substantive action was taken to address the issue of police corruption.

  Meanwhile, the task of catching the fraudsters was even higher on the agenda. The information from the Shanklin postmaster, and from Bridge of Allan, had suggested that Yonge was one of the leaders of the fraud. Further than that, the police had obtained sufficient information from the Isle of Wight to realise that Yonge was, in reality, Harry Benson, a young man who had pleaded guilty at the Old Bailey in 1872 to obtaining £1,000 by false pretences from the Lord Mayor of London. In addition, his crippling injuries had not been sustained, as was previously thought, from a railway accident, but had occurred during a fire in his cell in Newgate, probably lit in a deliberate attempt to commit suicide.17

  Thus, by mid-November 1876, the identity and history of one of the probable fraudsters had been established. A new ‘reward’ notice for the suspected five men was issued late in November, incorporating a photograph of a bearded Benson and a list of the aliases believed to have been used by him (including Andrew Montgomery, Montagu Posno, Montagu Coster, George Henry Yonge, Henry Young, Count de Montagu and Count de Mentargo).18 The identities of the remaining members of the gang were not publicly known at that time, but emerged over the coming months. Only the men’s ‘real’ names will be used in the following account. Apart from Harry Benson, the Comtesse de Goncourt fraudsters eventually proved to be William Kurr (aka William Gifford, William Giffard and William Kerr); his younger brother Frederick Kurr (aka Charles Collinge, Andrew Montgomery and Thomas Ellerton) and William Kurr’s school friend Charles Bale (aka William Bale, Thomas Henry Taylor, Richard Gregory, Charles Jackson and ‘Jerry the Greengrocer’). In early November 1876, William Kurr had also engaged an old acquaintance, Edwin Murray (aka Edward Murray, Henry Monroe and Henry Wells), from the 1875 ‘General Society for Assurance against Losses on the Turf’, to help cash the Clydesdale notes.19

  After Williamson had returned from his October holiday, Clarke had been concentrating on the extradition proceedings against Henri de Tourville. The turf fraud case remained under the charge of Druscovich and Williamson. However, on Saturday 25 November Clarke received a visit at Scotland Yard from John Savory, a solicitor’s clerk who had information about Clydesdale banknotes. Savory had been one of the guarantors for Edwin Murray’s bail in 1875 and had lost money when Murray absconded. He told Clarke that he had recently been approached by Murray who had suggested he could pay Savory all the money he owed him, and more, if he would help cash some Clydesdale notes. Savory had arranged to meet Murray on 27 November, near St Martin’s church in the Strand. When the two men met, Savory gave a prearranged signal and Detective Sergeants Littlechild and Robson moved in to arrest Murray. Clarke, who was too well known to Murray from their earlier encounters in 1875, had been standing out of sight in Charing Cross Station. Later in the day, Clarke went to search Murray’s lodgings with Littlechild and Robson. Murray was then taken to Marlborough Street Police Station and charged with obtaining £10,000 by fraud from the Comtesse de Goncourt. He was represented in court by a solicitor, Edward Froggatt, who also became a central character in subsequent events.20

  Within a week further progress had been made. Williamson had arranged for descriptions of the wanted men to be sent to some European police forces in case any of the men left Britain. By then, William Kurr had put Benson on a boat to Boulogne with Frederick Kurr and Bale. On arrival, the three men split up and arranged to meet up later in Rotterdam. Meanwhile, William Kurr remained in the UK. On 2 December, Williamson received a telegram from the Rotterdam police saying that three men matching the descriptions of three of the fraudsters had been arrested. The men had contributed substantially to their own detection. Suspicions had been aroused when Bale and Frederick Kurr had arrived at a Rotterdam hotel where Benson was staying, under yet another alias – ‘George Washington Morton’. Unfortunately for the fraudsters this was one alias too many, as Benson had not informed his colleagues that he had assumed yet another name and Bale and Kurr had therefore not known the name of the man they were supposed to be meeting. In addition, Benson had foolishly changed one Clydesdale note at his hotel and was found to be carrying more notes in a money belt.21

  Feeling pleased with themselves, the Rotterdam police were not expecting to receive the following telegram from London the next day: ‘Find Morton and the two men you have in custody are not those we want – Officer will not be sent over – Liberate them – Letter follows – Williamson, Superintendent of Police, Scotland Yard, London.’22 Fortunately, the Dutch police decided to await receipt of the letter before taking any further action, and the three men were retained in custody. No letter was forthcoming, however; the telegram had not been sent by Williamson or anyone else at Scotland Yard but had been sent at the instigation of William Kurr in an audacious attempt to free his colleagues. Druscovich travelled to Rotterdam on 5 December, armed with an extradition warrant for the three men. He was followed a few days later by Williamson. For much of the time until the prisoners’ extradition was approved, Druscovich remained in Rotterdam, apart from a self-granted day’s leave over Christmas when he returned to the UK, an action that incurred the displeasure of Williamson (who promptly sent him back to Rotterdam) and a censure from Commissioner Henderson.

  The prisoners were meanwhile not enjoying their time on remand in a Dutch gaol. Bale, a family man, was writing wistful letters to his wife about how he would miss Christmas with his family. Frederick Kurr was more concerned about the prison food: ‘The prison people … are feeding us on black bread and warm water and if you can spare a few pounds … it will be a godsend; two pounds will buy me and my friend Greengrocer white bread and coffee for a month – It is something horrible here, we are dressed in convict’s clothes and in fact like felons convicted.’23 Assistance was duly provided by Edward Froggatt, who had been engaged to represent the three prisoners, arriving at Rotterdam on 18 December to speak to his clients, and to provide £10 to the Dutch prison authorities so that Frederick Kurr and his colleagues could receive a modestly improved diet.24

  William Kurr, on the other hand, had still not been arrested. Though his involvement was suspected, and his house was watched for several weeks before his arrest, the police were short of witnesses that could place Kurr at any of the offices that had been used by the fraudsters. However, by the end of December Abrahams and the police had accumulated sufficient information to justify a warrant for Kurr’s arrest. On 31 December, following a robust chase through the streets near his house, William Kurr (who was armed with a revolver that he decided not to use) was arrested by Detective Sergeant John Littlechild.25 Kurr’s colleagues joined him in prison after the completion of their extradition hearings, returning on a steamer from Rotterdam on 12 January 1877 accompanied by Druscovich.

  Meanwhile, Clarke was busy tackling other cases. At the beginning of December he successfully closed down a betting operation at the One Tun Tavern off Haymarket.26 He also substituted for Williamson, who had travelled to Rotterdam during mid-December. On Boxing Day, he submitted a report on a ‘Contemplated Fenian Outrage’ in which he noted that small meetings had taken place organised by ‘persons of little influence’ and that his informers ‘do not believe any outbreak is likely to take place’.27 Then, while waiting for the weather to improve sufficiently to extradite de Tourville to Hamburg, he spent some time with family and friends. On 28 December he went to the Canterbury Music Hall with William Norfolk, a friend he had made through his daughter’s ma
rriage to Henry Payne. The two men saw the seasonal entertainment: ‘Great attractions for the Christmas Holydays – Aquarium, Caverns, Sliding Roof, Grand Lounge, New ballet entitled Ceres. Première danseuse assoluta, Mademoiselle Pitteri. Operatic selection from La Sonnambula. Prima donna, Miss Russell, Prima tenori, Vincent Marmaduke, George Leybourne, Fred Albert etc.’28 They also shared each other’s company on the 29 December at the aquarium, and on New Year’s Eve at the Paxton Head public house Knightsbridge, for a pipe and a glass.29

  After several hearings at Marlborough Street Police Court the two Kurr brothers, Benson, Bale and Murray were all committed for trial at the Old Bailey. The foregoing account has provided the main elements of the case against the fraudsters, but the hearings were not without interest.30 On 1 January 1877, when William Kurr first appeared to answer the charges against him, Kurr’s friend, Harry Stenning (a professional billiard player), who had tried to prevent Littlechild from arresting Kurr, was spotted in court and arrested. He was carrying a plan of the court with a marked escape route. Stenning was later tried and sentenced to a year’s imprisonment for obstructing a constable, plotting Kurr’s escape and attempting to suborn a key witness. The witness in question was George Flintoff, the landlord of the premises rented by the fraudsters at 8 Northumberland Street. At Stenning’s trial in February, Flintoff also claimed that Froggatt had tried to bribe him not to give evidence against Kurr. This prompted Froggatt to issue a writ against Flintoff for perjury; a confrontation that ended in legal impasse.31

  The Old Bailey trial of the fraudsters took place over eight days between 12 and 23 April 1877. The five accused were charged with obtaining £10,000 by false pretences and ‘forging and uttering with intent to defraud, checks [sic] drawn on the Royal Bank of London’. Montagu Williams, counsel for Edwin Murray, later commented on the case and the prisoners:

  The frauds that had been perpetrated were, I think, the cleverest that have ever come under my notice, and this being so, it will, perhaps, not be out of place if I briefly describe the appearance of the various prisoners.

  Benson, who was unmistakably a Jew, was of a very different stamp from his associates. He was a short, dapper, well-made little man … he was described as being twenty-six years of age, but he had the appearance of being somewhat older. It was clear that he was a man of good education. His hands and feet were remarkably small, and he was dressed well, and in perfectly good taste, which is more than can be said of the majority of those who make their appearance in the dock at the Central Criminal Court. Benson had charming manners, and it transpired in the course of the trial that, during his sojourn in the Isle of Wight, and other places, he had moved in the very best society. There could be no doubt whatever that Benson’s had been the master mind in a long series of frauds.

  William Kurr, the culprit next in importance, was described as being twenty-three years of age. In appearance he was more like a well-to-do farmer than anything else … His face wore an honest expression; but it does not always do to judge by appearances. I think that both in ability and craft he ran Benson very close.

  My client Murray, whose age was stated to be thirty-two, was described as a clerk, and looked that part exactly. He, too, was scrupulously well-dressed, and I could not help feeling that, if he had really been a clerk, and an honest one, his services would have commanded a handsome salary … The other two prisoners, Bale and Frederick Kurr, were mere nonentities, having been tools in the hands of their more astute confederates.32

  Solicitor General Sir Hardinge Giffard led the prosecution. Unusually, the Treasury had transferred the responsibility for assembling the prosecution case to Michael Abrahams. Clarke was called to give evidence of the arrest of Edwin Murray and mentioned that Murray had denied any direct involvement in obtaining money from the Comtesse de Goncourt. With William Kurr’s counsel trying to undermine the evidence of George Flintoff, Clarke was asked whether he had seen Kurr at Sandown Park Races on 31 August 1876. (Flintoff’s evidence had placed Kurr at the gang’s operational headquarters at 8 Northumberland Street on the morning of that day.) Clarke confirmed that he had. This information was to receive greater attention than it deserved later in the year.33

  Amongst more than eighty witnesses, including the Comtesse de Goncourt, Charles Chabot was once more deployed to confirm the identity of the handwriting on various incriminating documents. Evidence also emerged that Benson had found a means of communicating with the outside world from his Newgate Prison cell and, later, it became clear that he and William Kurr had been able to maintain some dialogue in this way. That too is important in the context of subsequent events. There was only passing mention of Meiklejohn during the trial, and no reference to Palmer. Meiklejohn was mentioned in the evidence of the landlord of the Queen’s Hotel, Bridge of Allan, and also in that of Alexander Monteith, manager of the Clydesdale Bank at Alloa, who said that Meiklejohn had been the means of introduction between himself and Kurr and Benson.34 However, no specific references to police corruption surfaced at the trial; rather intriguing in view of subsequent events. There had undoubtedly been a concern not to compromise a successful outcome to the turf fraud trial in both the Treasury Solicitor’s and the commissioner’s offices.

  The jury did not deliberate for long before returning a ‘guilty’ verdict against all the accused. Ironically, the Comtesse de Goncourt made a plea for clemency, possibly appeased by the successful outcome of the trial and the impending return of most of her money. Speaking quietly, and in French, her intervention had little effect on the sentences passed down. Benson received fifteen years’ penal servitude, and Bale and the Kurr brothers ten years’ penal servitude each. Only Murray escaped relatively lightly, having been found guilty as an accessory after the fact, and sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment.35 Benson, Bale and Frederick Kurr started their sentences at Pentonville Prison with a period of nine months’ solitary confinement, before being transferred to the public works prisons at Portsmouth, Portland and Dartmoor, respectively.36 William Kurr began his sentence at Millbank.

  Investigations of Police Corruption

  There was probably some satisfaction in the Scotland Yard Detective Department at the outcome of the trial, but it must have been muted by the apparent police corruption revealed during the investigation. Although an official inquiry had been implemented by the Treasury, it is unclear by late in 1876 precisely what immediate action, if any, was taken against Palmer and Meiklejohn.37 Palmer was, however, recorded to have visited the Metropolitan Police Chief Surgeon in January and February 1877 and was probably on sick leave for some time.38

  Apart from his friendship with Williamson, Clarke was probably closest with Palmer in his relationships with his other senior colleagues. They had both started work in the department in 1862, and some of their social activities and interests had coincided when Clarke became a Freemason in 1869. On 8 October 1869, at the age of 51, Clarke had been initiated into the Freemasons, joining Domatic Lodge No 177.39 Palmer was also a member and former Inspector Richard Tanner was a well-regarded acting secretary of the lodge during the early 1870s.40 ‘Freemasonry historically attracted two different types – the philosophical intellectuals and the gentlemen who thought that a Masonic lodge was a useful and agreeable social gathering.’41 Clarke was presumably in the latter group. He attended dinners at the lodge and the Lodge’s Annual Festival to the Ladies where, in July 1875 at The Greyhound, Dulwich: ‘A first-rate band played during dinner. The speeches were necessarily short as the Brethren and the ladies had made up their minds for dancing … [and] kept up till a late hour.’42

  Whatever Clarke’s reasons for joining, he appears to have been committed to Freemasonry’s aims and objectives, as he also chose to become a Royal Arch Mason, joining on 23 November 1871, and remained a Mason until his resignation in June 1890, long after his retirement from the police.43 At the end of 1876, both he and Palmer were officers of the Domatic Lodge. Palmer had the more senior position of junior warden while
Clarke was a deacon, whose responsibilities included guarding the inside of the main door of the lodge during the arrival of members for their meetings. This was a task that he fulfilled on the 10 November 1876 when the lodge met at their usual venue, Anderton’s Hotel in Fleet Street.44 For reasons that will become clear later, the date and location of this meeting became significant in subsequent events.

  Apart from Meiklejohn and Palmer, Druscovich also had some questions to answer concerning his conduct of the investigation into the turf fraud. Firstly, what had happened to the letter that had been sent by the Chief Constable of Leeds to Williamson, which should have arrived in the detective department on 26 September 1876 when Druscovich was in charge of the office? Druscovich had denied knowing anything about it, and the letter was never found. Secondly, it was discovered that Druscovich failed to report that he had received a compromising telegram from Meiklejohn, when in Edinburgh in November 1876. When asked to explain the omission, Druscovich said that he thought it hardly worth mentioning, only later telling Williamson that he had withheld the telegram to shield Meiklejohn from trouble.45 Thirdly, Druscovich’s colleague, John Reimers, had told Williamson in early December 1876 of a conversation that took place between Reimers and Druscovich in late November that year:

  I said, ‘How are you getting on with the turf swindle?’ He [Druscovich] said, ‘Damn the turf swindle! I wish I had never heard anything of it’. He then added ‘I have documents in my hand with which I could smash two’. Just before he said this I had said ‘I believe there is some one else in it besides Meiklejohn’. Then he made the remark about the documents. I then said to him ‘Have you told the Governor so?’ (Meaning Mr Williamson.) To that he replied ‘No, I have not; let him find out like I have done’. I then said to him ‘Surely you will not jeopardise your position for the sake of screening others’. He made no reply.46