Criminal Wirral E-Book

Daniel K Longman

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

Seitenzahl: 183

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2006

Beschreibung

Criminal Wirral is an intriguing and entertaining collection of some of the strangest, most despicable and comical crimes that took place on the Wirral peninsula from the Victorian era up until the early twentieth century. Daniel K. Longman's painstaking research has uncovered many fascinating cases that have been long forgotten, and he sheds new light on local causes celebres. The tales are supported by a number of maps with many contemporary and modern photographs, which help to bring these events and the people featured in them to life. Criminal Wirral will appeal to anyone who has an interest in the darker side of Wirral's history.

Leseprobe

CRIMINAL

WIRRAL

For James & Tia

CRIMINAL

WIRRAL

DANIEL K. LONGMAN

With thanks to

Birkenhead Central Library

Terry Deary

Christina Sutton

Garrick Webster

Picture credits: Historic photographs courtesy of Ian Boumphrey; modern photographs, author’s collection. Maps courtesy of Birkenhead Central Library.

First published in the United Kingdom in 2006 by Sutton Publishing Limited

Reprinted 2007

Reprinted in 2009 by

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

Reprinted 2011, 2012

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved

© Daniel K. Longman, 2011, 2013

The right of Daniel K. Longman to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7509 5329 0

Original typesetting by The History Press

CONTENTS

Foreword

Introduction

The Mad Maid of Oxton

The Gamekeeper Barbecue

Court Room Mayhem

A Determined Suicide

Catfight

Town Centre Clout

Post Office Killer

Fight for a Corpse

The Missing Peacock

The Conway Street Saloon

Whiplash

Rooftop Chase

An Entry of Death

A Likely Story

Death of a Sailor

Murder at Landican

Pickpocket Lady

An Infamous Cat Burglar

An Unwelcome Companion

Stolen Roses

Tramp Attack

Child Cruelty

The Spitting Servant

A Valuable Find

Random Rancour

A Bogus Doctor

The Baker Killers

Feline Furore

The Perfidious Pie Men

A Scuffle at Seacombe

Fancy That

An Expensive Shot

A Dreadful Affair

A Poisoned Baby

FOREWORD

Crime. What would we do without it? We all claim to hate it but we can’t help being fascinated by crime stories – the true and the fictional. Why are we so interested in dark deeds?

Because they are tales about the most mysterious subject on Earth . . . people. We spend all our lives exploring that great question, ‘Why do people behave the way they do?’ And crime is just an extreme form of behaviour. We want to know, ‘How could the criminal DO that?’ Then we wonder, ‘Could I do that?’

Here is a collection of true crimes. Crimes of all sorts – from a violent catfight between two jealous women, to a gang torturing a victim, to murder mysteries and to plain old theft, probably the world’s oldest crime.

These crimes have two things in common; they are all from the past (yet they could all still happen today). They are all from the same region of England known as the Wirral.

Some are grim and gruesome and reveal a lot about the dark depths to which humans can sink . . . ‘How could the criminal DO that?’

Some are comical.

Every reader will have their own favourite from the collection. But the one I like best is the tale of pinching a peacock from a park! When the thief was caught and brought to justice he uttered a timeless line that criminals have said for hundreds of years . . . and probably will a thousand years from now. ‘I know nothing about it and never was in the park in my life. I never saw no peacock.’

You can just HEAR him protesting his innocence, can’t you, as he was led away to be locked up for a month.

The stories are beautifully told and make a compelling read. Maybe, after enjoying the tales, you’ll be a bit closer to answering the question, ‘Why do people behave the way they do?’

And, if you find the answer, let me know.

Terry Deary Author of the ‘Horrible Histories’

INTRODUCTION

The Borough of Wirral has a long and colourful history. There has always been crime on the Wirral, even before its mention in the Domesday Book in 1086. Although very few records detailing crimes from so far back in time exist, it is known that in the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries Wirral was infamous for its smugglers and bandits.

Many places, such as Old Mother Redcap’s pub, which stood at the bottom of what is now Caithness Drive in Wallasey, were associated with the criminal underworld. In the Georgian era that part of the Wirral was separated from the rest of the peninsula by a regular tidal pool (hence its Gaelic name ‘Wealas Eye’, which roughly translated means Welshman’s or Stranger’s Island), which ensured that the pub was more or less free of unwanted guests from the mainland. Just as well, because Old Mother Redcap’s was notorious with smugglers and outlaws far and near. The inn got its name in the 1770s when it was owned by Polly Jones who, as the legend goes, always used to wear a red hood or cap. She was said to be a fresh-faced, Cheshire-accented woman who was very well acquainted with many local sailors. She owned the inn, which was riddled with secret storage spaces for stolen goods, and was designed to be a stronghold against unwanted visitors. Its imposing front door was 5 inches thick and heavily reinforced, as were the sturdy shutters on the windows. Investigating customs officers who tried to enter the pub could be ‘dealt with’ via a concealed trapdoor. Any attempts at forcing the heavy front door would release a catch that caused the trapdoor to fly open, instantaneously throwing whoever was standing above into a darkened cellar below!

Birkenhead Police, 28 March 1911. Back row, left to right: Detective Officer Bowden, Detective Officer W. Hughes, Detective Officer Lees, Detective Officer Pearson. Front row: Detective Sergeant Mountfield, Detective Inspector Eakins, Detective Officer Iball. (Photograph taken by J. Long, Bridewell Keeper)

Detective Sergeant Mountfield’s truncheon. (Linda Doyle, great-granddaughter)

After the year 1660 the number of offences that carried the death penalty increased dramatically. By 1795 a collection of laws, known as ‘The Bloody Code’, listed over two hundred felonies that were punishable by execution. This penalty was not only applicable to what we today would call serious crimes, but also to petty crimes such as pickpocketing, animal theft and the concealment of effects by bankrupts. The hanging of Archibald Girdwood at Tyburn in the West Midlands on Wednesday 17 July 1775 offers a clear example of how merciless the law could be. He was hanged for sending a threatening letter.

Not only adults suffered the punishment of execution. At the Dorchester Assizes in March 1794 fifteen-year-old Elizabeth Marsh was convicted of the murder of her grandfather. She was publicly hanged two days later. On 1 August 1831, John Bell was hanged for the murder of thirteen-year-old Richard Taylor in Maidstone prison. The fourteen-year-old youth and his eleven-year-old brother James, killed Richard for the sum of 9s which he was collecting from the Parish on behalf of his disabled father. John’s execution was witnessed by some five thousand people and his body given to surgeons in Rochester for dissection.

Although children were frequently sentenced to death (a mandatory sentence for many crimes in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries) there is little actual evidence that anyone under fourteen years of age was hanged in the nineteenth century, as many considered the punishment to be too severe.

The Victorian era saw a new crime wave sweep across Britain. However, attitudes were changing and after 1834 the number of crimes for which the ultimate penalty could be handed down was reduced considerably. ‘The Bloody Code’ of the eighteenth century had all but disappeared. Capital punishment was retained only for murderers and traitors.

Victorian society was undergoing substantial change. A decline in agriculture forced mass migration from rural areas into the rapidly growing cities where work could more readily be found. By 1891 the picturesque countryside village of Thornton Hough had a population of only 487, compared with 58,287 working in the flourishing shipping town of Birkenhead.

Overcrowding, immigration, poverty and an ever-increasing divide between rich and poor created a social environment in which new and more daring crimes began to take place. Larceny, whether housebreaking or pickpocketing, was, in many areas, the most prevalent of offences.

The Magistrates’ Court in Chester Street was a location for criminal proceedings from 1887 onwards.

What many would consider the most famous crimes of the period were committed in Whitechapel, London, in 1888. Between the months of August and November, referred to by some as ‘The Autumn of Terror’, five prostitutes were brutally murdered by an unknown killer, nicknamed Jack the Ripper. Despite the police’s best efforts, the infamous murderer was never brought to justice.

Many believe that if this madman was operating today the police, with all of the technologically advanced methods available to them, would have no problem in catching the elusive serial killer.

Walk into any modern shopping centre and you will see many closed circuit television cameras scanning the horizon, keeping a watchful electronic eye on any would-be thieves. Listen, and you will hear the distinctive sound of the siren of a blue and yellow police patrol car as it speedily makes its way to another crime scene. Look up, and watch as the bright beam of a searchlight illuminates the back alleys from an all-seeing police helicopter hovering above. The mass of newspapers, the array of radio reports and the variety of popular television programmes such as Crimewatch constantly warn us to be on the lookout for various wanted criminals.

Yet, with all of this media attention and the amazing and innovative crime fighting gadgets that are available, crime is still a major problem on our streets. According to the British Crime Survey figures for 2003/2004, the total number of crimes committed in England and Wales was approximately 11,716,000. It has been calculated that 26 per cent of the population fell victim to some sort of crime in those years. That is an awful lot of victims.

Nevertheless, the situation has improved immeasurably since Georgian and Victorian times. In a period when a person could be hanged for being in the company of gypsies for a month, or transported to the other side of the world for petty theft, today’s tolerant judicial system would be seen as positively idyllic. Some people believe that the Anti-Social Behaviour Orders received by modern-day Oliver Twists for their yobbish behaviour are punishments that are neither appropriate nor suitable. My own opinion is irrelevant, but I am sure you will agree that the death penalty for such crimes, as used to be the case, is certainly not the answer.

This book features a number of interesting, and sometimes macabre, tales concerning crimes that were committed among the streets and people of Wirral. Read about the gruesome end of John Horridge by means of a cutthroat razor, the unusual defence of Robert Travis against his charge of murder, and the terrifying gang-attack that took place in a quaint country pub. You will discover true tales of murder, suicide, robbery and many more examples of villainous and heinous crimes from times gone by.

Daniel K. Longman

THE MAD MAID OF OXTON

During the nineteenth century many Wirral homes had at least one maid living in, with their employer’s family. A maid’s chores consisted of whatever her master or mistress chose to impose. From preparing breakfast as early as six in the morning to meticulously scrubbing the flagstones outside the front door in the evening, a maid’s work was never done. The following story highlights a rare incident that happened in one of the most respectable parts of the borough over a century ago.

Mary Eccles, a young domestic servant, was alone with her elderly employer Martha Samuels at 29 Kings Mount, Oxton. Miss Samuels had noticed a change in her servant’s behaviour in recent weeks and was not only concerned for Mary’s well-being but also for her own. She had observed how the once respectable and hardworking servant had become slightly disturbed and was not the woman she had first employed.

King’s Mount, Oxton, on a map dating from 1899.

No. 29 Kings Mount, Oxton.

Mary seemed to be suffering from strange delusions and believed that her mistress intended to kill her. She was often nervous in Miss Samuel’s presence and did not like to be alone with her.

On 11 March 1891 Miss Eccles’ state of mind took a turn for the worse. That night, while she was carrying out her household duties, Mary became convinced that Miss Samuels, a woman of sixty-eight years of age, was going to kill her. In the past few days Mary had believed that she had felt a knife prod against her three or four times, and she was anxious for her life as she thought Miss Samuels had been trying to stab her in the back with a carving knife.

Mary panicked, ran up to her bedroom and bolted the door. She dragged all of the heavy items of furniture up against the door, making it impossible for anyone to get in.

Next morning, however, Mary believed that her mistress had somehow managed to get into the room and hide under her bed, whence she had assaulted the paranoid maid during the night.

Mary got dressed in preparation for starting work but was worried about going downstairs in case of any further attacks. Eventually the anxious young servant managed to pluck up enough courage to begin work at about eleven o’clock.

Mary hastily made her way down the stairs and into the elegant dining room, where she took out a rag and knelt down to start cleaning the dusty grate. After a moment or two she could feel a presence standing over her. She turned. It was Miss Samuels, who was quite annoyed that her servant had only now just begun work and asked what she had been doing all morning.

Mary was terrified. Fearing that she was about to meet her end, she stood up menacingly and came at Miss Samuels, rapidly closing the small gap that stood between them. The disturbed servant then grappled with the aged woman and forcefully wrestled her to the ground. Mary seemed to have the fixed idea that she was struggling for her life and grabbed for the nearest thing that she could to use against the frightened old woman. With one hand Mary was able to reach for a heavy door key all the while holding down Miss Samuels with the other. Once it was firmly in her grip, Mary used the key as a weapon and struck her employer repeatedly in the face, while shielding herself from Miss Samuels’ frail attempts to defend herself.

The view along Christ Church Road in the early twentieth century.

After a sharp hit to the head Miss Samuels fell unconscious and her muffled cries ceased. Mary realised what she had done. She looked in horror as the fragile body of Miss Samuels lay motionless on the bloodied carpet. She decided to fetch help and calmly walked into the hallway and outside into the street. Mary casually made her way to the Bewshers’ home at 7 Christ Church Road and spoke to Mary Bewsher and her sister Florence. She told them what had happened and confessed that she must had been mad at the time. The two sisters noticed how emotionless Mary appeared; she did not seem to understand the seriousness of what she had done.

The three ladies made their way to Miss Samuels’ house and knocked on the door. After a short while Miss Samuels appeared at the doorway. Her face was appallingly battered and bruised, with blood smudged all over one side, and her hair was very dishevelled. It was clear she was totally exhausted and was on the verge of collapse.

On seeing the awful condition of her mistress, Mary went in search of aid and called for Dr Johnston in nearby Devonshire Road. He quickly collected his equipment and ran with Mary to attend to Miss Samuels. They entered the dining room where they found the injured woman resting on a couch being looked after by the two Bewsher sisters. Dr Johnston bandaged her wounds and made Miss Samuels as comfortable as possible.

PC Brown, who was patrolling nearby, had spotted the doctor and Miss Eccles running urgently down the street and decided to investigate. When he arrived at the house Miss Eccles greeted him. She seemed rather wild and confused and did not seem to know what was happening.

Concerned, the officer asked if he could come inside. He stepped into the charming hallway where he could hear hushed voices from the dining room. He went to investigate and entered to see what was going on. The constable was shocked to see the elderly lady lying there weakly as she struggled to describe the morning’s events to the doctor. He was dismayed at the injuries Miss Samuels had suffered and, after speaking to Dr Johnston, PC Brown decided to escort Miss Eccles down to the kitchen to calm down and to listen to her side of the story.

Mary told him how Miss Samuels came at her that morning and tried to kill her. She confirmed that she did hit the old woman but said that she was only trying to protect herself against Miss Samuels’ attempts on her life.

‘If I had not done it she would have done it to me,’ she exclaimed.

The constable found this quite difficult to believe and presumed that the maid was suffering from some kind of mental illness. He decided to take her to the Tranmere Workhouse, now St Catherine’s Hospital, where Dr McNeil and Dr Cornwall could keep her under observation until her inevitable trial.

After close analysis the doctors decided that Mary was suffering from a type of mental derangement which caused her to become dangerous. They were of the opinion that she should never be left alone with anyone.

On Saturday 4 April Mary Eccles was charged with the attempted murder of her mistress, Martha Samuels. The court heard that Mary was temporarily insane at the time of the attack and was full of remorse for her actions.

‘I would gladly have my hand cut off if it would save Miss Samuels’ life,’ Mary implored. Miss Samuels herself was not in court as she was still too weak to leave her home. She was recovering steadily, but still bore the physical and mental scars of the attack.

After the court had heard the accounts of the workhouse medical staff Mary was found not to be responsible for her actions that horrific morning, so was given the lenient sentence of one week’s imprisonment in Walton Gaol.

THE GAMEKEEPER BARBECUE

On the evening of 17 February 1864 Robert Caunce, a gamekeeper to Captain D. Graham, stopped off at the Wheatsheaf public house in Raby. Inside, a group of six men were sitting drinking and watched as Caunce and his friend William Jones, a fellow gamekeeper, entered the pub and ordered two glasses of ale. Mr Caunce quickly gulped down his drink and held out his empty quart jug to be refilled. While he drank two more rounds he spoke quietly to his companion about the day’s shooting and the evening’s forthcoming ploughing match. While they chatted Caunce could not help but notice that the group in the corner were watching him. When he had drained the last drop of ale from his jug Caunce decided to leave and began his journey home in the company of William. They travelled down the country lanes for about a mile, whereupon reaching Hinderton they went their separate ways. In the distance Robert could see his two sons walking and quickly caught up with them. They all decided to visit the Shrewsbury Arms, a pub owned by Moses Robinson which was just a little further on. On entering, the gamekeeper made for one of the rooms where there was an empty seat by a warm and inviting fireplace. There he sat and rubbed his cold hands together and made himself comfortable in the warm and cosy surroundings. Robert looked around and noticed that William Mailor, one of the group of men that he had seen at the Wheatsheaf, was sitting next to him. He turned, and, sure enough, Mailor’s five companions were drinking at a nearby table.

The Wheatsheaf at Raby.

The Shrewsbury Arms.

‘I’ll take every hare you’ve got,’ Mailor threatened unexpectedly.

‘Do that and I’ll kill you,’ Caunce retorted, before Mailor rudely spat in his face.

Disgusted, the gamekeeper got up and moved his seat away from Mailor, but while doing so he was unfortunate enough to catch the eye of another gang member, John Smith.

‘What are you looking at?’ Smith demanded, as he stared at Caunce with an intimidating glare. Receiving no response, Smith strode over with the obvious intention of starting a fight. Mrs Robinson, the landlady, noticed this and hurried over to the men. She stood in front of Mr Caunce and told Smith to calm down. This failed to stop him and Smith violently punched Robert over her shoulder; first in one eye and then in the other. Although Robert was hurt, he was still on his feet and attempted to grab Smith by his jacket. But Robert was no match for the threatening thug, who pushed him to the floor and kicked him repeatedly around the face in a most brutal manner. Smith then casually lifted Robert up and held him over the fire by his hair. Smith laughed and joked as he played the part of a ‘butcher’ and his friends acted as ‘cooks’.