The Ripper of Waterloo Road

by Jan Bondeson

  The discovery of the murder of Lord William Russell, from Cleave’s Penny Gazette of 16 May 1840.

  The Norfolk Street servants promptly sent for the police and a doctor. When Sarah Mancer returned into the house, she was surprised to find Courvoisier sitting on a chair in the dining room, scribbling on a small piece of paper. When she asked him, ‘What the devil do you sit here for, why don’t you go out and see for some one, or a doctor?’ he calmly answered that he was writing to Lord William’s son in Cheshunt Place. The doctor and the police constable inspected Lord William’s bedroom, and found him stone dead in his blood-soaked bed, with his throat cut with great violence. This was clearly a case of murder, and as soon as Inspector John Tedman, of the ‘D’ or Marylebone Division of the New Police, had arrived, the police took possession of the murder house. They found a gloomy-looking Courvoisier skulking in the pantry, moaning that as a result of the murder, he would lose both his place and his character.

  Three other views of the discovery of the murder, from the Penny Satirist of 16 May 1840, the Sunday Times and People’s Police Gazette of 17 May 1840, and an unknown newspaper.

  Courvoisier told Inspector Tedman that No. 14 Norfolk Street must have been broken into from the rear yard. He showed the policemen some modest damage to the rear door, the top bolt of which was hanging by only one screw. Inspector Tedman thought that the damage to the door and the doorpost did not correspond, however, and all the screws were very rusty and brittle. The other doors to the house showed no signs of having been tampered with. If Courvoisier was right, then the intruder or intruders must have managed to scale the high wall to the rear yard, although the whitewashing showed no marks at all, before making use of a ladder to descend, and break open the wooden basement door instead of the glass-panelled one up the steps.

  Inspector Tedman was surprised that the drawing room, which was full of valuables, remained entirely untouched, and also that many objects of value had simply been left behind in the hall, something no experienced burglar would ever have done. Courvoisier admitted that the screwdriver found on a chair in Lord William’s writing room was his own, and that it normally belonged in a toolbox kept in the pantry. When Lord William’s body was inspected, the Swiss valet appeared calm and collected, as if seeing mangled bodies and blood-spattered rooms was something he did at regular intervals. Inspector Tedman speculated that Lord William had been attacked and murdered when he was still asleep in bed. The washstand in his bedroom was entirely clean, indicating that the killer had not cleaned himself in this room; nor was any basin full of bloodstained water found elsewhere in the murder house. Having recovered from her early morning hysterics, Sarah Mancer gave clear and accurate answers to Inspector Tedman’s questions about her observations, and she generally gave a good impression. Nor did the still drowsy Mary Hannel appear to have anything to hide. Tedman cautioned all three domestics at No. 14 Norfolk Street that they must not leave the premises, speak to any person, or do any cleaning or sweeping inside the house.

  Two scenes from the early investigation of the murder of Lord William Russell, from the Sunday Times and People’s Police Gazette of 24 May 1840.

  At this early stage of the murder investigation, the police could discern three different scenarios when it came to the planning and perpetration of the crime: either one or two inexperienced burglars had broken into the house, having chosen it more or less at random, and panicked and fled after murdering Lord William; or a burglar turned murderer had been let into the house by one of the servants; or the murder was an ‘inside job’ committed by Courvoisier. Still, it spoke in the Swiss valet’s favour that his demeanour after murder had been very cool and confident, and that his clothes were not at all stained with blood.

  For several reasons, it was considered desirable to hold the coroner’s inquest on Lord William Russell immediately, on the evening of 6 May, the same day the murder had been discovered. Firstly, the influential Russell family wanted to scotch the persistent rumours that Lord William had committed suicide; secondly, Lord William’s son was keen to have the body removed to his own house to make preparations for the funeral; thirdly, it was considered a good idea to get the inquest out of the way to allow the police to proceed with their investigations. Accordingly, Mr Thomas Higgs, the Deputy Coroner for Westminster, opened the inquest at half past five, at the City of Norwich Arms public house in Norfolk Street. The Marquess of Normanby and several others of high degree were present as spectators. The coroner and the fifteen jurymen saw the body and inspected every room in the murder house. Mr Henry Elsgood, surgeon, of No. 91 Park Street, and his colleague Mr J. Nursey, of Cleveland Row, testified that this was definitely a case of murder. Firstly, Lord William Russell’s throat had been cut with great force; secondly, the murder weapon was nowhere to be found; thirdly, the killer had covered Lord William’s face with a towel after the deed. The Constable John Baldwin testified that in spite of the damage to the lower-ground-floor back door of No. 14 Norfolk Street, there was nothing to suggest that an intruder had forced an entrance that way.

  When Courvoisier’s box had been ransacked, a purse containing a £5 note and six sovereigns had been found, but as cool as a cucumber, the Swiss valet had said that he had once given Lord William five sovereigns for the note. Courvoisier was himself the next witness. Repeating his earlier testimony to the police with calmness and authority, he gave a very good impression, particularly since the helpful Mr Fector had given him an excellent character before the opening of the inquest. After Sarah Mancer had briefly given evidence about her observations the morning after the murder, Mr Higgs asked the foreman of the jury whether he wished any other witnesses to be called. Being no close student of the case, the foreman answered in the negative, and the jury returned a verdict of murder against some person or persons unknown. The coroner agreed with this verdict, commenting that it would allay idle public speculation, and discredit false rumours about the cause of Lord William’s death.

  A few of the London papers, like The Standard and the Morning Post, managed to provide a brief outline of the murder of Lord William Russell already in their late editions of 6 May, giving the bare facts of the tragedy and pointing out that the police had taken possession of the murder house.5 On 7 and 8 May, all the London newspapers featured the murder of Lord William Russell.6 The venerable age of the deceased nobleman, his great name and influential family, and the ferocity of the mysterious deed, all contributed to great public excitement. The papers gave a full account of the inquest, adding that Lord William’s funeral was scheduled for Tuesday 12 May. The murdered nobleman’s eldest son Lieutenant-Colonel Francis Russell had died unmarried in 1837, and his younger brother Commander John Russell had also predeceased his father, but one son and two married daughters were still alive. The newspapers pointed out that the police investigation of the murder was in good hands, the commissioners Richard Mayne and Colonel Rowan personally having inspected the murder house. As a result of contradictory police bulletins from the inventories of the missing articles in the murder house, there were various contradictory articles about the items stolen. The newspapers vaguely supported the burglary hypothesis, although false rumours had been circulating that Courvoisier had already been arrested. After denying these rumours, the Morning Post issued a description of him: ‘The valet is a young man, apparently about 25 years of age, having very dark hair and eyes, brown complexion, and regular handsome features.’7 The Times pointed out that this was the second dreadful murder taking place in the district within a short period: the similarities between the unsolved slaying of Mr Westwood in 1839 and the current Norfolk Street outrage were only too obvious, and the newspaper hoped that the exertions of the New Police in capturing the murderer would be more successful in the present case.8

  Four scenes from the investigation of the murder of Lord William Russell, from the Sunday Times and People’s Police Gazette of 24 May 1840.

  On 8, 9 and 10 May, Norfolk Street was crowded with well-dres
sed people, a great portion of whom were female, who had come to see the murder house.9 There was much speculation what was going on inside, and whether Courvoisier would be arrested. There was a government reward of £200 for the apprehension of the murderer, which was matched with another £200 from the Russell family. The police had received a letter from a certain ‘W.B.’, stating that he had murdered Lord William and then left for the Continent, but they did not attach much value to this communication, since they knew that practical jokers were in the habit of sending such letters in cases of much-publicised London murders.10 Inspectors Pearce and Tedman had tracked down Henry Carr, whom they suspected of being Courvoisier’s accomplice, but he managed to convince them that he had nothing to do with the murder. Nor was there anything to suggest that a proper burglary had taken place, and the police were becoming convinced that Courvoisier was the guilty man, possibly with an outside accomplice. Importantly, two bank notes, a Waterloo medal and some gold sovereigns were found hidden in the scullery, where Courvoisier would have had the opportunity to deposit them. With his habitual coolness, the Swiss valet denied any knowledge of these objects, but the police thought he was lying; why, if there had been an outside accomplice, would this individual not have absconded with the gold coins and bank notes? Late in the evening of 10 May, Courvoisier was clandestinely arrested and taken to the Bow Street police station, where he was charged with murder and locked up in the cells.

  On 11 May, Courvoisier was examined in the station house at Bow Street. Mr Hobler, the solicitor for the police commissioners, attended to prosecute, and the solicitor Mr Flower, of Hatton Garden, represented the prisoner. Inspector Pearce gave evidence about the finding of Lord William’s mangled body, the verdict of the coroner’s inquest, and the important find of the valuables hidden away in the scullery. A chisel found in a box in the butler’s pantry, which Courvoisier admitted belonged to him, corresponded to the marks on the plate drawer, and the screwdriver found on a chair also appeared to have been used when breaking into Lord William’s plate cupboard. Questioned by Mr Flower, Inspector Pearce had to admit that several people had been in the house at the time he had found the stolen goods in the scullery. The prisoner was remanded in custody for three days, and sent to the New Prison, Tothill Fields.

  Three drawings of a dark-haired, villainous-looking Courvoisier, from the Penny Satirist of 23 May 1840, Cleave’s Penny Gazette of 27 June 1840, and Major Arthur Griffiths’ Chronicles of Newgate.

  The funeral of Lord William Russell took place on 12 May just as planned: his lordship’s remains were put to rest in the Russell family mausoleum at Chenies Church, Buckinghamshire. His only surviving son Mr William Russell was in attendance, as were his two daughters, many other Russells of high degree, and a great many other members of the nobility and gentry. The police were represented by Inspector Tedman and Sergeant Smith, both appropriately attired in deep mourning, and a troop of local constables. Performing the ceremony, the Rev. Mr Bowers struck his head hard against a projecting stone when descending into the vault, and received a severe contusion to the forehead, but this did not prevent him from conducting the remainder of the funeral in a becoming and solemn manner.11

  As for the prisoner Courvoisier, further examinations at Bow Street followed on 14, 23 and 27 May, and the available evidence was thoroughly sifted. Fourteen silver spoons and forks with the Russell family crest, some French gold coins, and a gold ear-trumpet, were still missing from Lord William’s effects, and the police had been searching the murder house to find out if Courvoisier had been hiding these valuables on the premises, or whether they had been carried off by an accomplice. Defended by Mr Flower, Courvoisier seemed as calm and collected as ever, and he made no admission of guilt. There was nothing to suggest that his clothes had been stained with blood, and the murder weapon was nowhere to be found. There was newspaper speculation that Courvoisier might have thrown the murder weapon into the back garden of another house, from his third-floor bedroom window, but the police retorted that all gardens had been searched without anything interesting being found. On 29 May, Courvoisier was committed to Newgate, awaiting trial at the Old Bailey for murdering Lord William Russell. Many people still believed that he was innocent: Sir George Beaumont contributed £50 to his defence, and a subscription was raised among the foreign servants of London. John Minet Fector also contributed to Courvoisier’s defence, and promised to take him back as a footman after he had been acquitted.

  Awaiting trial, Courvoisier was consoled by the Swiss clergyman Charles Baup, of the French Protestant Church in London, who had been asked to intervene by the prisoner’s grieving parents back in Switzerland, since they had heard that he would stand trial for murder in London and risked being hanged.12 Like everyone else, Baup found the Swiss valet a very cool customer, who gave nothing away and maintained an admirable composure throughout his ordeal. The experienced Mr John Adolphus was retained for the prosecution, and after he had consulted with his two juniors Bodkin and Chambers, and inspected the murder house, he wrote in his diary, ‘I have not the slightest doubt of the wretch’s guilt, but many are of the opinion that the Jury will not convict on circumstantial evidence, and I am far from being sure that they are mistaken.’13 Courvoisier was defended by the eloquent Irish barrister Charles Phillips, who was known for his unconventional tactics: from his diary, it is clear that Mr Adolphus was more than a little concerned what antics his opponent would be up to in court.

  When the trial of François Benjamin Courvoisier, for the murder of Lord William Russell, commenced on 18 June, before Chief Justice Sir Nicholas Tindale and Baron Parke, the court was crowded with people of nobility and distinction.14 The Duke of Sussex was present, as were the Duke of Bedford and Marquis Saldanha, the Portuguese Ambassador. Mr Adolphus opened proceedings with a lengthy speech, going through the case from beginning to end, and presenting a mass of circumstantial evidence against Courvoisier. The Swiss valet had been discontented with his situation, angry with his master and envious of his wealth. There was no evidence that the house had been burgled in the first place, and surely, if burglars had broken into the house, they would have taken all the available valuables with them, and not left banknotes, gold and silver behind. A rush light in Lord William’s room had been lit by Sarah Mancer, and later extinguished by the murderer; experiments showed that it had been burning for an hour and a half, indicating that the murder had taken place close to midnight. The house had been searched by some person who had a good idea where the valuables were stored, and who but Courvoisier would have had anything to gain from hiding the bank notes and gold coins in the scullery? Pointing out Courvoisier’s Swiss descent, he pontificated that foreigners believe that English noblemen carry vast sums of gold with them, and that with foreigners murder was often a prelude to robbery, for they imagined that if they had murdered the victim, there would be no testimony against them.

  Courvoisier on trial, from the Penny Satirist of 27 June 1840.

  Sarah Mancer was the first witness. She described feeling very tired after drinking the beer that Courvoisier had fetched for her, and suspected that something noxious had been put in it. When she gave the alarm in the street after Lord William had been discovered, she had said that his lordship had been murdered. Charles Phillips did his best to confound her: had she not testified, at the inquest, that she had just seen that there was blood on the pillow? Mary Hannel, the cook, was the next witness: she had also felt very tired and sleepy after drinking the beer, although she had to admit that it had had no unpleasant taste. When cross-examined, Constable John Baldwin had to admit that at the inquest he had testified that the back door had been forced from the outside, although he objected that he had later found that he was mistaken. Baldwin was harshly treated by Mr Phillips, who forced him to admit that he had read about the £400 reward posted and that he thought this a great amount of money.

  The following day, the audacious Charles Phillips did his best to harry the policemen, implying that
they had decided to ‘frame’ Courvoisier to get their hands on the reward. Inspector Tedman had to admit that there were marks on the back door of the house that had not been there when he first examined it. Courvoisier had seemed very calm and collected throughout his ordeal, almost as if he had committed murder before, and was confident that he would get off scot-free. Fourteen silver forks and spoons, a gold ear-trumpet, and some minor articles were still missing from the house. Inspector Pearce admitted that he had made some marks on the back door of the house, while carrying out some experiments. When the bank notes and gold coins had been found in the scullery, he had shown them to Courvoisier and exclaimed, ‘Can you look me in the face and say you know nothing about these things?’ in order to force an admission, although he denied doing so in order to stake a claim for the reward. This concluded the case for the prosecution.

  Lady Julia Lockwood and Mr Fector both testified that whilst in their employ, Courvoisier had been a harmless and inoffensive young man, on good terms with his colleagues, and a quiet and efficient servant. The proprietor and waiter at the Hotel Bristol in Jermyn Street also had nothing but good to say about the prisoner’s character. Mr Adolphus appears to have been rather worried that there would not be sufficient evidence to get Courvoisier convicted for murder. In the evening of 19 June he went for a consultation with the Attorney-General, to discuss the prosecution of Edward Oxford, who had taken a shot at Queen Victoria as she came past him in her carriage. As he emerged from this meeting, he was informed that there had been important developments in the Courvoisier case. Madame Charlotte Piolaine, the manageress of the Hotel du Port de Dieppe in Leicester Place, had come to the police to tell them that six weeks earlier, a young man known to her as ‘Jean’, who had once worked at the hotel, had come to deposit a parcel with her. Her cousin Joseph Vincent had read about the trial of Courvoisier in the newspaper, and the missing forks and spoons in particular, and he had started to suspect that ‘Jean’ was identical to the Swiss valet, and that the surprisingly heavy parcel contained the stolen goods. Vincent and Madame Piolaine took the parcel to a solicitor, where it was opened and found to contain the stolen forks, spoons and ear-trumpet, wrapped up with a jacket and a pair of stockings. The police took Madame Piolaine to Newgate, where she at once identified Courvoisier as the man who had given her the parcel.15