Minnie Clayton told the court that she had only moved into the house at 31 Gertrude Street on Friday 27 April. After the arguments, she had also gone to speak to Booley. Moments later, Hetty Castleton had come back to the cab and said, ‘Minnie, come, I think my landlady is in a fit.’ Minnie had gone back to find Frances lying on a grass verge, close to her front door. When it was clear that she would not wake, Minnie ran for the doctor. Later, after the doctor had said that Frances was dead, Hetty had also run off to find a policeman.
Emily Jenner lived at 31 Limerston Street, but on 2 May, she was walking down Gertrude Street with her friend, Norah Burton. Emily had seen some sort of heated discussion taking place between Booley and some women on the corner of the street. She and Norah then walked on together and, when they came opposite to number 31, they saw Frances lying on the grass. She was doubled up and had blood on her face. This was confirmed by Norah, who added that she had touched Frances’s legs and found them to be quite cold.
Constable Horace Thorpe was the policeman brought to the scene by Hetty Castleton. He had found Frances lying on her stomach, on the grass. There was a great deal of blood around her mouth.
Inspector William Demain had seen Frances’s body and at 5.00am that same morning, he had gone to Booley’s lodgings at 89 Aldersgate Street and arrested him. Later, at the Chelsea police station, Demain had charged Booley with murder. Another inspector, Patrick Cronin, was present at the time and he heard Booley reply, ‘I did not strike her and knock her down.’ Later, at the magistrates’ court, the charge was reduced to one of manslaughter as it was believed that there had been no intention to kill.
Lucy Haynes was Frances Croft’s niece and she confirmed that Frances had been sixty-two years old when she died. Lucy was also able to confirm that Frances had never suffered from fits of any kind, thus closing off one possible line of defence for Robert Booley.
Dr James Robert Hayes had examined Frances in Gertrude Street and believed that she had been dead for about an hour when he arrived. Later, Dr Hayes performed the post-mortem and he found an effusion of blood beneath the skull. The brain had been compressed and such an injury could be caused by either a sharp blow, or, just possibly, a fall.
Once all the evidence had been heard, the jury took just a few minutes to decide that the defendant was guilty of manslaughter. Twenty-eight-year-old Robert James Booley was then sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment, with hard labour.
Chapter 16
Henry (Harry) John Surtees
1883
The night of Friday, 29 June 1883, was absolutely foul. Great peals of thunder and sheets of lightning ran across the skies and the rain bounced off the pavements. Inside the World’s End public house on King’s Road, Chelsea, groups of people huddled around the fire, enjoying their drinks and marvelling at the awful weather outside.
In due course, the time came for customers to leave but the rain still pelted down and as people drifted outside, many of them took shelter in the stable yard at the back of the pub. One such person was James Gallimore who, as he pulled his coat up around his chin, saw a number of people he knew, taking shelter at the far end of the same stable yard.
Amongst that group were Samuel Bell, a cab driver, and a man named Carter who were trying to coax a somewhat reluctant horse out of the stables, so that Bell could attach the beast to his cab, which stood in the street outside. Also there were Harry John Surtees and Louisa Charlotte Parrell, who Gallimore had seen leave the bar just a few minutes before he had.
Even as Gallimore sheltered he saw Surtees pick up a pail of water and throw it over Louisa. According to his later testimony, which did not agree with that of others who witnessed this scene, Surtees then refilled the pail and threw it over Louisa again before repeating this for a third time. Surtees then struck Louisa in the throat, knocking her back into the stable.
Gallimore dashed forward and shouted, ‘Leave off, you have done quite enough Harry.’ At first it seemed that Surtees had heeded Gallimore’s words for he then helped Louisa up, but no sooner had she stood up than he struck her a second time, knocking her backwards again.
Other people, including Elizabeth Dorrington, who was a close friend of Louisa’s, now rushed to aid the stricken woman. Louisa was helped up again and she was then helped to her lodgings at 59 Langton Street. As the group moved along the streets, they were followed by Surtees, who had picked up Louisa’s hat and cloak and was carrying them over his arm.
Susan Davidson was Louisa’s landlady at Langton Street and she heard a noisy group bringing Louisa in, taking her to her room and putting her to bed. Susan noticed that Louisa was very wet indeed and appeared to be in some pain as she was groaning and moaning. Susan also saw Surtees, who she knew had been walking out with Louisa, and asked him if he had hit her. Surtees replied that they had been sheltering in the stable and a horse must have kicked her. Hearing this, Louisa managed to groan, ‘Oh Harry, you know what you have done.’
By the next morning, 30 June, Louisa was no better and it was decided that she had to go to the hospital. Another lodger at number 59, Elizabeth Weedon, helped Louisa to get dressed and she helped Surtees to take the injured woman to St George’s Hospital. Surtees, however, refused to go inside and left Elizabeth to escort Louisa to see the doctor. When Elizabeth came back outside, Surtees did not seem too interested in what the doctor had said, inquiring only what Louisa might have told him. Elizabeth replied, ‘The truth, that you had kicked her.’
On Monday, 2 July, having received an official complaint from Louisa, Inspector Henry Marshall arrested Surtees at his mother’s house at 9 Sloane Square. He was charged with violent assault or wounding and held in custody to await a hearing before the magistrates. Unfortunately, the following day, Tuesday, 3 July, Louisa died from her injuries and the charge of murder was added to that of wounding. Later, at the inquest, that charge was amended, to one of manslaughter.
Surtees’ trial took place on 30 July and he faced three separate charges. In addition to manslaughter and wounding he was now also charged with breaking the peace.
After James Gallimore had given his evidence, the prosecution called Samuel Bell, the cab driver. He testified that he had been taking care of his horse when Louisa came into the stable. She was obviously the worse for drink and staggered to the corn bin where she took a handful of corn and fed it to the horse. Minutes later, Surtees had also come into the stable and an argument had started between then. At one stage, Louisa had rushed forward to grab at Surtees and it was at that point that the prisoner had thrown a single pail of water over her. This did nothing to cool Louisa’s temper and she rushed at Surtees again. It was then that he struck her a single blow and she fell back against the corn bin.
Frederick Mason was also standing in the stable and he heard a little more of the argument between Surtees and Louisa. He had, apparently, accused her of going with a married man and at one stage called her ‘a cow’. She replied by calling Surtees ‘a sod’ and hitting him in the side of his head. Mason did not see Surtees hit Louisa but claimed that he had simply pushed her backwards.
Doctor William Rivers Pollock had attended to Louisa when she was brought in to St George’s Hospital, at 11.00am on 30 June. She seemed to be quite ill and complained of acute pains in her abdomen. Soon afterwards, Dr Pollock had gone off duty and Dr Henry William Allingham had taken over Louisa’s care. He was present when she died, at 5.20pm, on 3 July.
Yet another medical gentleman, Dr Daniel Maclure Ross, had performed the post-mortem, on 4 July and he found that Louisa’s bladder had been ruptured. This had caused peritonitis, which was the direct cause of death. The damage to the bladder may have been caused by a punch or a kick but could equally have been caused by a fall against the corn bin in the stable.
The medical evidence, and the conflicting testimony of the various witnesses, some of who had seen a blow, others of whom had only seen a push, meant that the jury returned a not guilty verdict on the charge of mansl
aughter. The prosecution then chose not to enter any evidence on the other two charges, which were then dismissed. Harry John Surtees then walked from court, a free man.
Chapter 17
Samuel Davis and Alfred George Plank
1885
The evening of 2 December 1885, had been a busy one in the Clock House Tavern, in Knightsbridge. The potman, Edward Tilley, had been run off his feet most of the night but, by 11.00pm, the rush seemed to have died down somewhat, and only a few customers stayed behind, finishing off their drinks.
At 11.15pm, three soldiers, Harry Denton, Thomas Cooper and Samuel Lockwood, walked into the bar. All three men were members of the Coldstream Guards and all wore medals on their chests. No sooner had they ordered their drinks, than three local men, Samuel Davis, Alfred George Plank and Joseph Philip Hawkes, stepped forward and began goading the three men in uniform.
Hawkes took little part in the banter and it seemed to be Davis who did most of the talking. He told the three soldiers that they had not earned their medals and had no business wearing them. The soldiers told him to mind his own business and pointed out that they had only come in for a quiet drink and did not want any trouble. This did nothing to calm Davis down and he then took out his coat and said that he would fight all, or any of them.
At this provocation, Edward Tilley stepped around the bar and told Davis to clear off and take his two friends with him. When Davis stood firm, Tilley manhandled him out of the bar, into the street outside. As Davis shouted abuse from the street, and threatened what he would do, Plank and Hawkes calmly followed their friend outside.
Edward Tilley went back to his duties and served the three soldiers with their drinks. Peace only reigned for a minute or so, though, for then Davis stormed back in, without his coat, grabbed hold of the nearest soldier, which happened to be Thomas Cooper, and tried to pull him out into the street so that they could fight. Once again, Edward Tilley intervened and, once again, Davis was thrown out.
The soldiers finished their drinks and left the tavern together a few minutes later. All three walked down to the corner of Sloane Street, where they all shook hands and bade each other goodnight. Cooper was only on a one-night pass and had to report back to his barracks. The other two, Denton and Lockwood, both had extended passes and were free to go elsewhere. After the handshakes were completed, Denton and Lockwood walked off towards Piccadilly and Cooper carried on down Sloane Street.
Denton and Lockwood had not gone very far when a figure dashed out from behind a corner. Denton knew nothing more as a punch under his jaw knocked him down to the ground. It was a local constable who came to Denton’s aid, picked him up, dusted him down and then watched as he and Lockwood went on their way.
The assailant had, of course, been Samuel Davis and he was still with his friend, Alfred Plank. They saw the policeman approaching and wasted no time in making good their getaway down Sloane Street, chasing after Cooper as they did so.
Adam Storey was a private in the 1st Battalion of the Coldstream Guards and he too was returning to barracks and walking down Sloane Street. Storey noticed Cooper, who was in the same battalion and whom he knew well, walking on the opposite side of the street. As Storey started to cross the road to join his comrade, two men rushed up to Cooper and one of the men struck him savagely behind his right ear. Cooper fell to the ground and Storey made an attempt to grab the man who had hit him, but he managed to struggle free and Storey watched helplessly as both men then ran off. It was Storey’s cries for help, which brought a constable to the scene.
Thomas Cooper was rushed to St George’s Hospital, but despite the best medical attention, he died the following morning, without ever regaining consciousness. Police enquiries at the Clock House Tavern soon led to positive identification of the three men who had goaded the soldiers and Davis, Plank and Hawkes were all arrested and charged with murder. In the event, once the three made their appearance before the magistrates, all charges against Hawkes were dropped, as it was accepted that he had taken no part in the attack itself. Further, the charges against the other two were amended to ones of manslaughter, the magistrates believing that there had been no actual intention to kill.
The trial of Davis and Plank took place on 14 December, with Mr Poland and Mr Montagu Williams detailing the case for the Crown. Davis was defended by Mr Keith Frith, whilst Plank was represented by Mr Geoghegan.
After Edward Tilley had given his testimony, Harry Denton, the soldier who had been battered to the ground, told the court his story. He confirmed that he and his two friends had gone into the Clock House at around 11.15pm and immediately been met by abuse from the two prisoners, chiefly from Davis. After he had recovered from the blow on the corner of Sloane Street, he and Lockwood had walked on to Piccadilly. He saw nothing of the attack upon Cooper.
Samuel Lockwood had actually seen neither the attack upon Cooper nor the one upon Denton. Lockwood had walked a few steps ahead of Denton and, after hearing a cry, turned to see him lying on the ground. A policeman then came forward and helped his friend to his feet, before sending them on their way.
Daniel Parrott was a butler, in service at 42 Prince’s Gardens, Kensington, but on 2 December, at some time between 11.00pm and midnight, he was walking past the Clock House Tavern when he saw a slight scuffle in the doorway. This was, apparently, Edward Tilley, in the act of ejecting Davis from the premises, for the second time. Plank was standing a few yards away and Parrott heard him say something like, ‘Wait a minute, until they get round the corner.’
Soon after this, Parrott saw three soldiers come out of the tavern and walk towards Sloane Street. Though he did not know the man at the time, Parrott then saw Davis run from around a corner and strike Denton before he and Plank ran off up Sloane Street, towards Cooper. Parrott, concerned that a serious assault had already been committed, ran after the two men. Moments later, he saw Cooper lying on the pavement and ran on to find a constable.
Constable Thomas Thomas had been on duty that night and at around 11.30pm he saw Davis outside the Clock House, threatening someone inside. Constable Thomas went up to Davis and told him to clear off. He then went inside the tavern and advised the soldiers to drink up and be on their way. They did as he suggested and, having spoken to the potman for a minute or so, Thomas went back outside to see Denton lying on the ground and Davis standing over him, ready to strike him again. As the officer went to Denton’s aid, Davis and Plank ran off.
Just a few moments after this, the last witness, Daniel Parrott, rushed up to Thomas and told him that there was another soldier lying badly injured in Sloane Street. Parrott took Thomas to where the injured man lay and, acting on Thomas’s instructions, went off to find another constable who might assist.
This second officer was Constable George Barley who, when he arrived at the scene, saw Cooper still lying unconscious on the pavement. There was blood pouring from his ear. Barley and Thomas then helped take the injured man to hospital.
Doctor Harry Marmaduke was the surgeon on duty at St George’s Hospital and he testified that Cooper was brought in just before midnight on 2 December. Despite receiving immediate treatment, he never woke and died at 1.40am on 3 December. Dr Marmaduke later performed the post-mortem and reported a fractured skull with corresponding laceration of the brain.
The jury retired to consider their verdict and, after a short consultation, returned verdicts on both men. Samuel Davis, the man who had undoubtedly struck the blow that killed Cooper, was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to five years’ imprisonment. Alfred George Plank was found not guilty of manslaughter but was adjudged to be guilty as an accessory to the crime. For that, he received a sentence of fifteen months’ hard labour.
Chapter 18
James White
1888
Catherine White enjoyed the trip with her mother, Margaret. It was the morning of Saturday, 3 March 1888 and Catherine had accompanied sixty-seven-year-old Margaret to a house in Balham with some boots her father
, James, had repaired. The sum of twelve shillings in payment was handed over and the two ladies then headed back towards Margaret’s home, 1 Eden Place, Chelsea.
Before going back to the house, however, Margaret and Catherine enjoyed a glass of gin and some bread and cheese at the Star and Garter public house, so it was 12.30pm by the time they arrived at Eden Place.
Catherine’s father was sitting on a bench and announced that he would like a pint of beer. It was plain that he had already consumed a good deal of alcohol and Margaret said, ‘James, I think you have had enough already. Where did you get it?’ James would only reply, ‘I have taken a little job home and spent the money.’
Upon hearing that, Margaret White began to cry uncontrollably. The statement from James was symptomatic of all that was wrong with their relationship. James was a skilled shoemaker and had the potential to earn a good living from his trade, but he would much rather do the minimum amount of work and spend the money on drink. He was losing customers on a regular basis and the household income had fallen to almost nothing.
It was clear that James would not be moved from his determination to have his pint of beer so, against her better judgement, Margaret handed him two pence. James left the house immediately and returned a few minutes later with a large flagon of beer. He poured a glass for his wife and then drank the rest himself. He then told his wife and daughter that he did not feel very well and was going to lie down. It was his daughter, Catherine, who saw him to his bed and covered him over with a greatcoat.
When Catherine went back downstairs she found that her mother was crying again, and saying that there were some boots that James was supposed to have mended but he hadn’t bothered and so now they wouldn’t be paid. There was, however, little that Catherine could do about this. She had to get back to her own home and her husband, David, so she kissed her mother and said she would call back later that evening to make sure that everything was all right.
Foul Deeds in Kensington and Chelsea Page 7
