Channel Island Murders E-Book

Nicola Sly

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Although an idyllic setting, where violent crime is thankfully rare, the Channel Islands have a shadier side. Contained within the pages of this book are twenty-five historic cases of murder committed in the Channel Islands. They include a fatal assault on John Francis in 1894, which remains unsolved; the murder by Philippe Jolin of his father in 1829; and the murder and suicide committed by Eugenie Toupin in 1881, all of which occurred in Jersey. In Guernsey, elderly widow Elizabeth Saujon was murdered during the course of a robbery in 1853, Edward Hooper drunkenly beat his wife to death in 1890, and housekeeper Elizabeth de la Mare murdered her elderly employer in 1935, wanting to hasten his demise on the understanding that she was the sole beneficiary of his will. Nicola Sly's carefully researched and enthralling text will appeal to everyone interested in true crime and the shady side of Jersey, Guernsey and Alderney's history.

Leseprobe

INTRODUCTION & ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Unfortunately, I cannot pretend to understand the complexities of the law but in writing about historical murders from the Channel Islands, I discovered that the Islands have a different legal system to that of mainland United Kingdom, one which has roots in both British and French law. The Channel Islands consist of two Bailiwicks – the Bailiwick of Jersey and the Bailiwick of Guernsey, which also encompasses Alderney and the smaller islands. The Islands are British Crown Dependencies, yet they enjoy judicial independence, with their own courts and judges and their own separate systems of law, which differ between the islands.

Historically there have been numerous reforms in the Island laws – for example, it was not until November 1984 that the death sentence was officially repealed, after a man was sentenced to death in May of that year for the murder of a Portuguese farmworker in Jersey. The cases in this book date from 1829 to 1950 and during that period, there have been several revisions and changes in the way criminal trials were conducted. Both Jersey and Guernsey have separate Royal Courts, at which both civil and criminal cases are heard. Since 1864, murder trials in Jersey have been heard at the Criminal Assizes and, until 1948, the question of guilt or innocence was determined by Jurats (see glossary). After 1948, a jury determined the outcome of the trial, although until relatively recently, sentencing remained the prerogative of the Jurats. In criminal trials in Guernsey the Judge – the Bailiff, Deputy Bailiff or Lieutenant Bailiff – sits with Jurats, who act as judges of facts. The Judge deals with issues of law and procedure and the Jurats decide the facts, such as whether to convict or not. The Judge and the Jurats together decide the sentence.

According to The Times in 1846, at criminal trials in Jersey, there was no oral testimony by witnesses. Instead, all evidence was taken down in writing before the judges of The Royal Court and the examination of witnesses was conducted by Her Majesty’s Law Officers on the Island, hence it could take many weeks before a Petty Jury was summoned to hear the case. The Petty Jury consisted of thirteen individuals – the constable or head police officer of the parish in which the crime was committed and twelve persons whom he has chosen ‘to assist in his general vigilance after the public welfare.’ Thus the jury, ‘… are neither more nor less than policemen who first seize a felon and then try him.’

At the time of the article in The Times, every criminal accusation was first examined by a Petty Jury or ‘L’endictmment’, comprising the parochial constable and twelve of his officers, seven of whom must concur to find the defendant guilty

The prisoner had the right of appeal to a Grand Jury, known as ‘La Grande Enquête’ which was made up from at least twenty-four people from three neighbouring parishes. The prisoner or his counsel could object to the inclusion of any member of the Grand Jury. Rather than finding verdicts of guilty or not guilty as in England, the Grand Jury gave a verdict of ‘plutôt coupable qu’innocent’ (more guilty than innocent) or ‘plutôt innocent que coupable’ (more innocent than guilty).

The report in The Times concluded: ‘It is a farce, however, to suppose that the jurors will enter the seat of justice with their minds unprejudiced against the unhappy defendant. Instead of making the jurors strain their eyes over dozens of pages of lawyers’ folios, it would be much more rational to hand them a copy or two of the Jersey Times – the whole evidence against the ill-fated defendant has already been published in that journal.’

As always, I am indebted to a number of people for their help in compiling this collection of true murders. I am especially grateful to the Jersey Evening Post for granting permission for me to use two of their photographs as illustrations. The staff members at the Jersey Reference Library, the Jersey Archive and Guernsey’s Priaulx Library were extremely helpful, as was Tom, our hotel porter from Guernsey, who willingly shared his encyclopaedic knowledge of the Island’s history. I must also thank Matilda Richards, my editor at The History Press, for her help in bringing the book to fruition and, more than ever before, I must acknowledge my husband Richard’s invaluable assistance with the research and photography, particularly on our second visit to Jersey.

Funeral at Foulon Cemetery, Guernsey. (Author’s collection)

Every effort has been made to clear copyright; however, my apologies to anyone I may have inadvertently missed. I can assure you it was not deliberate but an oversight on my part. It is also necessary to appreciate that, until 1950, trials were normally conducted in French, which can sometimes lead to errors and misunderstandings when the proceedings are subsequently reported in the English newspapers.

Nicola Sly, 2013

CONTENTS

Title

Introduction & Acknowledgements

Glossary

Case One

1829

‘Now pick yourself up’

Case Two

1835

‘Ah, Louis, would it not be a sweet death?’

Case Three

1836

‘I am ready to die, even now if necessary’

Case Four

1846

‘Six shillings will not ruin you’

Case Five

1846

‘If any other gentlemen come here, I’ll be their butcher’

Case Six

1853

‘They’ll find it a hard job to prove me guilty’

Case Seven

1856

‘Gentlemen, I am innocent’

Case Eight

1866

‘Oh, mother, who would have thought it?’

Case Nine

1874

‘I have a deed to do this evening’

Case Ten

1881

‘Alfred, come to bed’

Case Eleven

1883

‘What I have done, I have done in self-defence’

Case Twelve

1885

‘She wouldn’t give me a glass of liquor, so let her burn’

Case Thirteen

1889

‘A friendly feeling existed among us all’

Case Fourteen

1890

‘Get up, you drunken thing’

Case Fifteen

1894

‘Some me jumped down from a trap, jumped on me and ran away’

Case Sixteen

1895

‘Murder will out’

Case Seventeen

1897

‘There’ll be no singing in here’

Case Eighteen

1898

‘He’s my husband’

Case Nineteen

1901

‘Look out, he’ll stab you!’

Case Twenty

1906

‘But I was not alone in this affair’

Case Twenty-one

1935

‘Either she is a dastardly murderess or else she is a dangerous lunatic’

Case Twenty-two

1947

‘I have just killed a man; come and see’

Case Twenty-three

1950

‘I’ll have her one day. She won’t go far’

Bibliography

Also by the Author

Copyright

GLOSSARY

Advocates of the Royal Court: Advocates act as defence counsels, combining the role of barrister and solicitor.

Assize trial / Criminal Assize: Equivalent to English Crown Court trial.

Bailiff: The Chief Justice of the Royal Courts in Guernsey and Jersey. The Bailiff has a deputy, who has the same powers.

Centenier: A senior honorary police office in Jersey, with the power to charge an accused and present him/her before the Magistrates’ Court.

Commissioners: Part-time Judges in the Royal Court, Jersey, who have the same powers as the Bailiff when in court.

Connétable / Constable: The elected heads of the parishes in Guernsey and Jersey. (In Guernsey, a senior and a junior Connétable are elected.)

Constable’s Officer: The lowest rank of elected honorary police officer in Jersey.

Greffier: Clerk to the Royal Court.

HM: His/Her Majesty.

HM Attorney General: Responsible for bringing the prosecution in criminal cases in Jersey.

HM Comptroller: The equivalent of an English Solicitor General – one of the two Law Officers of the Crown in Guernsey.

HM Procureur: The second Law Officer of the Crown in Guernsey, the equivalent of an English Attorney General, who is responsible for the prosecution of criminal trials.

Jurats: (from the Latin jurare – to swear on an oath). The Jurats are judges of fact. Jurats are elected to their posts and are usually senior members of the community in good standing, serving a similar role to a Justice of the Peace or Magistrates in mainland United Kingdom. Prior to 1948, the Jurats served as judges of both fact and law, even though they had no legal training. Amongst other responsibilities Jurats determined sentences following a guilty plea or conviction, although an article from the Daily News of 1853 describes the Jurats as appearing in four distinct roles within the same trial:

1. At the coroner’s inquest

2. As the Grand Jury, examining witnesses in private

3. As the Petit or Petty Jury returning the verdict in the case

4. As Judges, with the power to pronounce even the sentence of death

Jury: Individuals between the ages of twenty-five and sixty-five years old, who are selected randomly to decide the verdict in a trial. (Traditionally, the jury were only summoned after sunset to prevent any external communication.) In Jersey, the defendant has the right to challenge two jurors, without having to give a reason for the challenge. The prosecution and defence counsels may also challenge jurors, with legitimate reasons.

States of Guernsey Police: The police force for the Crown dependency of Guernsey. In addition to providing police for Guernsey itself, the Guernsey Police also provides detachments for the islands of Alderney, Herm and Sark. The force was formed in 1915, prior to which the island was policed by elected Parish Constables, aided by Special Constables. The first salaried Assistant Constables were appointed in 1853 and by 1902 there were twelve paid police officers on the Island.

States of Jersey Police: The professional police service of Jersey, which was not established in its current form until 1974. There is an honorary police force in each parish in Jersey. Honorary police officers are elected by parishioners to assist the Connétable of the parish to maintain law and order, and to this day the only person who may charge a person with an offence is the Centenier of the parish in which the offence allegedly took place. Officers are elected as Centeniers, Vingteniers or Constable’s Officers, each with various duties and responsibilities.

Vingtenier: The middle rank of honorary police officers in Jersey.

Viscount / Vicomte: Executive Officer of the Royal Court and equivalent to the British Coroner. Among the department’s many varied duties are holding inquests and making sure that the decisions of Jersey’s Courts and States Assembly are carried out.

CASE ONE1829

‘NOW PICK YOURSELF UP’

St Helier, Jersey

Suspect:

Philippe George Jolin

Age:

21

Charge:

Wilful Murder and parricide

Philippe George Jolin endured a terrible childhood in St Helier, Jersey. His father, who was also called Philippe, suffered from severe gout and the constant, excruciating pain in his feet drove him to drink. The excessive drinking had a negative effect on his health as well as his finances and his expenditure on alcohol, coupled with his frequent inability to work, left the Jolin family impoverished. There was often insufficient food in the house, leaving young Philippe reliant on the kindness of his neighbours for sustenance. While drunk, Philippe’s father would regularly beat him, using his fists or anything else that could be used as a weapon and when the boy was eight years old, he was so miserable that he tried to shoot himself with a fowling piece but was prevented from doing so by the family’s lodger, Philip Jenne (or Jeune). If Philippe’s mother, Elizabeth, tried to stop her husband from hurting their son, she too was beaten.

St Helier harbour and town. (Author’s collection)

At the earliest possible opportunity, Philippe junior ran away to sea to escape his father’s cruelty and, aged just fourteen years old, he quickly became addicted to drinking with his fellow crew members. Philippe became deranged after consuming alcohol but, when sober, was a mild-mannered but melancholy teenager, who seemed permanently depressed and often threatened to throw himself overboard. He eventually stopped drinking and, in 1825, earned an award for bravery for his part in rescuing the survivors of a shipwreck.

In 1829, Philippe returned to live at the family home. His mother had now died and he and his father reverted to the all too familiar pattern of drinking together, which was inevitably followed by violent arguments and fighting. On Monday 7 September, Philippe junior was due to start a job at a shop in St Helier owned by Phillip Binet. He reported for work at eight o’clock but, even so early in the morning, it was immediately obvious to Binet that his new employee was drunk and he was sent away to sober up. Philippe went home where, not surprisingly, he and his father started another drunken quarrel which resulted in a beating for Philippe junior. Chased out of the house by his father, a tearful Philippe shouted, ‘I shall catch you again,’ to which Philippe senior replied, ‘And I shall catch you again; you are not yet free.’

The irate father shouted for his son to come back but Philippe junior refused, saying that if he did, one of them would surely die. The young man ran down a lane near his house to a pile of bricks, picked one up and broke it in two before returning to where his father stood cursing him on the doorstep. It was obvious that he intended to throw the half bricks and when onlookers Thomas Bertram and Jane (or Jeanne) Le Maistre begged him not to he told them, ‘He has threatened me severely,’ adding, ‘If you do not get out of my way I shall throw them at you!’

Turning back to his father, Philippe took aim. Philippe senior stood his ground and his son threw the first of the two half bricks at his father. It was wide of its target and Jane had to duck to avoid being hit, but the second missile hit Jolin hard on his head and he immediately dropped to the ground. ‘Now pick yourself up,’ his son told him callously and, when his father did not move, the young man nonchalantly picked an apple from a tree in the garden, took a bite, and walked off towards St Helier Quay.

At two o’clock in the afternoon, Philippe Jolin returned to the shop where he should have started work that morning and told Binet and his assistant, Edward Le Feuvre (who was also Jolin’s first cousin), that his father had just beaten him. He confessed that he had knocked his father down and said that he was very glad he had done so, adding that he sincerely hoped that the old man was dead. Binet told him that he was a very wicked fellow and suggested that, rather than reporting for work, Jolin should have fetched a doctor for his father. The young man began to cry, before falling asleep, sleeping for more than an hour.

Meanwhile, back at the Jolins’ home, Philippe senior was semi-conscious and bleeding heavily from his nose, ears and mouth. The badly injured man was carried into his cottage and put to bed and surgeon Edouard Thompson Dickson was summoned to attend him but by the time Dickson arrived, Jolin was weak from loss of blood. Dickson staunched the flow and bandaged the wound on Jolin’s head and within fifteen minutes, he seemed much improved, sufficiently so for Dickson to consider it safe to leave him. Yet within half an hour, Jolin was dead and a post-mortem examination revealed that a large quantity of coagulated blood had collected beneath his skull and was pressing on his brain. There was no question in Dickson’s mind that the blow to the head from the half brick had caused the ruptured blood vessel that was responsible for Jolin’s death, although the doctor was later to state that, having known the deceased for many years, he was aware that his general health was so poor that, regardless of the injury, Jolin probably had very little time left to live.

‘bleeding heavily from his nose, ears and mouth’

Dickson notified Centenier Philip Winter Nicolle of Jolin senior’s death, telling him that it was undoubtedly caused by a wound on his head, which had been inflicted by his son. Nicolle went in search of Philippe Jolin junior and, finding him on the quay, seized him by the collar and accused him of having killed his own father.

‘I couldn’t help it,’ Jolin replied and when Nicolle reminded him that such an offence might lead to the gallows, the young man began to cry. The Centenier took him to the jail, before informing the King’s Procureur of the death, so that an inquest could be held. Nicolle described Jolin as cool, calm and perfectly sober when he was arrested.

Philippe was prepared to plead guilty to the manslaughter of his father but the inquest found a verdict of wilful murder and parricide against him. In returning their verdict, the inquest jury specifically determined that, ‘The prisoner killed his father by flinging a piece of brick at his head with a deliberate intent.’

When Jolin was tried on 28 September, before a jury comprising twenty-four jurors from the parishes of St Helier, St Saviour and St Lawrence, his defence counsel, Advocate Hammond, argued that, in spite of the inquest verdict that the killing was done ‘… with a deliberate intent’, Jolin’s offence was manslaughter rather than wilful murder. Hammond told the court that he could hardly deny that the deceased had unhappily fallen by the hand of his son but reasoned that, in order for Jolin senior’s death to be classed as murder rather than manslaughter, his killer should be of sound mind and must be shown to have malice aforethought. Hammond stated that he hoped to demonstrate to the jury’s satisfaction that the defendant’s crime was not murder but the lesser offence of manslaughter.

It was evident that, over the years, the defendant’s father had frequently ill-treated and abused his son but there was nothing to indicate that Jolin junior had ever previously shown any malice or ill-will towards his father. Hammond reminded the jury that the defendant was inebriated when he threw the missile that caused his father’s death and, although drunkenness could never excuse the crime, it could perhaps explain the words spoken by Jolin at the time. The brick throwing, said Hammond, was obviously ‘… the effect of a momentary irritation, arising from the ill-treatment and violence of his father, who had just driven him out of the house and followed him as far as he could, threatening yet more violence.’

Hammond then told the jury that there was another essential to murder – it must either arise from a general hatred of mankind or a wicked heart. He made much of Jolin’s commendation for bravery, calling it undisputed proof of his love of his fellow creatures since, at the time, Jolin was one of the few men who was prepared to risk his own life saving others from a certain watery grave. Hammond then went on to state that Philippe junior had shown no malice aforethought, nor any evidence of a wicked heart.

Manslaughter might be either voluntary or accidental, said Hammond, who then quoted several cases where death had occurred from mere scuffles, or as a result of impulses arising from momentary provocation. The law admits to a certain degree that human nature is frail by not attributing malice where there appears to be provocation, said Hammond, adding that he believed that this was the case here. His client had no intention of killing his father but, having been driven out of doors and pursued by his father, he took up the first thing that came into his hand and, with a view of preventing any more ill-treatment to himself, he threw the brick. Philippe Jolin senior’s death was an unfortunate and wholly unintended consequence.

There seemed little doubt that the deceased was the aggressor, Hammond continued, and although this in no way justified his son’s actions, he would appeal to the jury to find that there was sufficient provocation to merit the lesser charge of manslaughter. Finally, Hammond stressed how contrite and remorseful Jolin was ‘… for the offence of which he has been unhappily, though unintentionally, guilty.’ Through his counsel, Jolin promised that, if his life was spared, his future behaviour would atone for his past follies.

Several witness statements were read to illustrate the extent of Philippe Jolin’s violence towards his son, including that of blacksmith John Case, who had often witnessed the boy being beaten with a hammer or anything else that came readily to hand. According to Case, the majority of blows that Philippe received were on his head and Case sincerely believed that the young man’s memory and intellect had been adversely affected by his years of unrelenting physical abuse at his father’s hands.

Philippe Manuel, the Captain of the young man’s ship Pelican, also gave a statement for the defence. Manuel had personally seen the marks and scars of violence on Jolin’s head and knew that they came from being beaten by his father. Manuel had once actually witnessed Jolin’s father hitting him with an iron bar, stating that the youth bled heavily as a result. The Captain went on to relate that young Jolin was so affected by the blows that he was unable to walk and had to be carried to his bed, yet his father refused to help him in any way. Not only that, but Manuel also stated that he had seen the father kicking his son many times, on different parts of his body.

A shipmate of Jolin’s on Pelican testified to seeing Jolin ‘… in a state of derangement’ at Buenos Aires. Philip Aubin said that he didn’t know whether Philippe Jolin was mad or whether his derangement was due to the effects of drink but he recalled that, whenever the madness struck the young sailor, he wanted to throw himself into the sea and drown himself. According to Aubin, Jolin often said that he never wanted to see his parents again.

The Jolins’ former lodger, Philip Jenne, also made a statement for the defence, in which he wrote that he had lodged with the family for seven years, leaving in approximately 1824. Jenne said that on numerous occasions he had seen Philippe junior ‘in a passion’, describing him at such times as ‘… like a person bewildered.’ Jenne recalled snatching a fowling piece from the boy’s hands when Philippe was on the verge of shooting himself. ‘I don’t know if it was through passion or derangement of the mind,’ he remarked, adding that he couldn’t recall if Philippe had been provoked at the time.

It was suggested that the beatings in the prisoner’s childhood may have caused some brain damage but any possible mitigating circumstances bore no weight with prosecutor Attorney General John William Dupré, who maintained that drunkenness was no excuse for murder and that Philippe should have respected his father’s authority and was duty bound to protect him and preserve his life.

The King’s Procureur, Mr Thomas Le Breton, rebutted Mr Hammond’s speech in defence of Philippe Jolin junior. Philippe must have known that the half brick he hefted at his father would prove fatal, if it connected with its intended target. There were at least two people present at the time who implored the accused not to throw the bricks but Jolin’s only response was to tell them to get out of his way. He had ample time for reflection, in walking to the pile of bricks and selecting his weapon, in turning and walking back to his father’s house, and in ignoring those who had the good sense to recognise the most probable outcome of his actions. Then, having thrown the bricks, instead of going to his father’s aid, which common humanity would have expected a stranger to do, he walked away with the utmost sang froid, calmly eating an apple, having dismissively told his victim, ‘Now pick yourself up.’ Furthermore, he then boasted to others about what he had done, showing absolutely no remorse whatsoever.

Le Breton ridiculed the defence’s claims that the deceased was continually striking his son on the head with an iron bar, a hammer or any other like instrument, insisting that instead of producing trifling wounds, such brutality should have killed the prisoner a long time ago. Le Breton also remarked that it had by no means been proven that Jolin was actually drunk at the time if his father’s murder.

The Bailiff then summed up the facts of the case for the benefit of the jury, remarking, ‘The defence that has been set up in the acts of extravagance and violence that have been alleged, cannot, in my opinion, either excuse or even palliate the crime that has been committed and which, I think, has been most fully proved.’ The Bailiff went on to say that the jury was to judge for themselves, after duly examining the papers and evidence, before continuing to advise them to perform their duty, however painful that might be, unencumbered by emotion of the heart.

The jury deliberated for half an hour before returning to announce that they were unanimously of the opinion that the defendant was guilty of the murder of his father. The Bailiff then addressed Jolin and asked if he had anything to say.

Hammond spoke on his client’s behalf, reiterating his contrition and his promise that, if his life was spared, his future conduct would atone for his past. Hammond asked that the facts of the case be sent to the King for His Majesty’s gracious consideration but the King’s Procureur felt unable to recommend such a course of action, since the prisoner had been found guilty first by an inquest and now at trial.

The Bailiff asked for the opinion of the court, whose personnel were almost unanimous in their support of the Procureur. One jurat declared that he personally would be inclined to spare Jolin’s life if he could see any benefit from doing so but, given that this would only prolong a life of misery, he was prepared to vote with his colleagues for execution. Another said that he believed that the death penalty should apply but with a fortnight’s respite. With his punishment decided, Jolin was ordered to fall to his knees while the Bailiff pronounced the death sentence.

Urged by the court to spend his remaining time on earth making peace with the God he had so sorely offended, Jolin was led away to gaol to await his execution. He took the words of advice to heart and spent his days in conversation with members of the clergy and reading his Bible. ‘I had no intention of killing my poor father,’ he insisted.

Gallows Hill, Jersey. (© R. Sly)

View from Mount Patibulaire, Jersey, in 1909 – site of the old gallows. (Author’s collection)

In going home, I found no victuals ready so I went into the garden and took a pear. My father came out and abused me for it and took me by the throat; my blood recoiled at this and, overheated by the effect of several glasses of liquor I had drunk during the day, I lost all command of myself and in a moment of exasperation, seized the fatal brick, broke it in two and thus unintentionally became a parricide. [sic]

Shortly after one o’clock in the afternoon 3 October 1829, Jolin left the gaol supported by two clergymen, Reverend Gallichan and Reverend Hall. More than 200 halberdiers escorted them to keep order at what was to be the last execution to be held at Jersey’s Gallows Hill (now Westmount).

Jolin showed no fear as he shook hands with several of the prison officials before kneeling in prayer with Reverend Gallichan. He then mounted the steps to the scaffold and turned to address the large crowd of more than 6,000 spectators.

Jolin spoke in a clear, firm voice:

You see in me the effect of bad education and example; from early youth I have been unfortunately addicted to intemperance; my duty towards God was never pointed out to me. Therefore I beseech all of you who are assembled here to witness my fate to avoid bad company, drinking spirits and vicious habits. I exhort young people not to violate the Sabbath but to frequent church and to attend to their religious duties and I fervently pray to God to have mercy on my soul.

The noose was placed around Jolin’s neck and he was allowed to say a final few words to the crowd. ‘I beseech you once more to avoid intemperance,’ he pleaded. ‘Those present who have children committed to their care, let them send them regularly to church and to the Sunday school and teach them their duty to God and man. I am the greatest sinner in existence; I acknowledge the justice of my sentence and die in peace with all the world.’ At that, a white cap was drawn over his head and although his face could no longer be seen, his voice was heard praying. Reverend Gallichan read part of the burial service then the signal was given for the drop to fall and twenty-one-year-old Jolin plummeted to his death.

‘I am the greatest sinner in existence’

CASE TWO1835

‘AH, LOUIS, WOULD IT NOT BE A SWEET DEATH?’

St Helier, Jersey

Suspect:

Louis Antoine Marin

Age:

42

Charge:

Murder

Outwardly, schoolmaster Louis Antoine Marin of St Helier seemed like a respectable married man. However, for some time he had been engaged in what was described in the contemporary newspapers as ‘an improper intimacy’ with a young woman named Mary Ann Bethell.

The dalliance first started in 1833, when Marin was appointed as Mary Ann’s music master. Mary Ann was described in the contemporary newspapers as ‘… a highly accomplished girl, an affectionate sister and, to her mother, everything that could be desired’, although she had a taste for novels and romances that left her extremely vulnerable to the attentions of a handsome older man. Mary Ann’s friends grew concerned at the growing level of intimacy between the young woman and her much older tutor and one friend went as far as to leave a note where he knew that Mary Ann would find it as she enjoyed one of her regular walks in the countryside with Marin. The friend concealed himself so that he could see Mary Ann’s reaction when she found the note, which detailed the writer’s concerns about the impropriety of her conduct, but when Mary Ann picked it up, she merely smiled ruefully and passed it to Marin. Mrs Barber, with whom Mary Ann lived, also suspected an inappropriate relationship between master and pupil and, on 14 November 1835, spoke sternly to Mary Ann about it. Mrs Barber had been informed that Mary Ann had received several gifts from Marin and that she had been seen signalling to Marin from a window. ‘That is not true,’ protested Mary Ann. However, she assured Mrs Barber that the situation would be resolved that very evening.

Mrs Marin had found some intimate letters written by Mary Ann to her husband in the pocket of his coat. Her outraged reaction to her husband’s supposed infidelity was highly predictable and was worsened when Mary Ann called at the house to see Louis Marin. A lengthy altercation ensued, during which Marin struck his wife and, from then on, there is only Marin’s account to explain the subsequent events.