Death in Disguise E-Book

Gary Powell

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

Seitenzahl: 236

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Victorian Chelsea was a thriving commercial and residential development, known for its grand houses and pleasant garden squares. Violent crime was unheard of in this leafy suburb. The double murder of an elderly man of God and his faithful housekeeper in two ferocious, bloody attacks in May of 1870 therefore shook the residents of Chelsea to the core. This volume examines the extraordinary case, one which could have leapt straight from the pen of Agatha Christie herself: the solving of the crime relied on the discovery of a packing box dripping with blood, and the capture of a mysterious French nephew. Compiled by a former detective, it looks at the facts: no direct evidence to place the suspect at either of the crime scenes; no weapon recovered; no motive substantiated. It lets you, the reader, decide: would you, on the evidence presented, have sent the same man to the gallows?

Leseprobe

Mum and Dad – Ron and Mary. Thanks for everything.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to take this opportunity to thank several people who have given me their time, guidance and advice, which greatly contributed to the completion of this volume. Peter Kennison’s unrivalled records of the history of the Metropolitan Police, its officers and police stations have allowed me to delve much deeper into the lives of some of the characters in this book. Charlotte Baker’s professional editing skills were a godsend together with the photographic skills of Guy Pilkington.

I would also like to thank the staff of Kensington and Chelsea Local Archives, especially David Walker and Isabel Hernandez for their support, Amy Gregor from brightsolid Newspaper Archive Limited, and finally Cate Ludlow, my publisher, for taking a chance.

It is long since the public have been startled by news of a crime so horrible in all its features as that of which we placed a report before our readers yesterday. We need not apologise for calling attention to it in this place, because, whoever may be the guilty parties, there can be no doubt of the facts, which create an absolute certainty that two of the most horrible murders have been committed of which we have any record …

Chelsea has had the good fortune not to be associated with acts of a criminal character and the fact that it is the scene of the present tragedy is somewhat more remarkable on that account.

The Morning Advertiser, Saturday, 14 May 1870

CONTENTS

Title

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Introduction

List of Characters

1

Saturday, 7 May 1870

2

Monday, 9 May 1870

3

Tuesday, 10 May 1870

4

Wednesday, 11 May 1870

5

Thursday, 12 May 1870

6

Friday, 13 May 1870

7

Saturday, 14 May 1870

8

Monday, 16 May 1870

9

Wednesday, 18 May 1870

10

Friday, 20 May 1870

11

The Trial: Day One

12

The Trial: Day Two

13

Guilty or Innocent? You Decide

14

Is Motive Essential?

15

The Murder Weapon

16

Did He Act Alone?

17

Nineteenth-Century Policing vs Twenty-First-Century Forensics

18

The Verdict

19

The Execution

20

Life Goes On

Afterword

Bibliography

Copyright

INTRODUCTION

London in 1870 was developing at an alarming rate; dozens of small towns and villages were being amalgamated to form the greatest industrial city in the world. Slums were torn down and the poor forced further east, leaving the City of London and the west ripe for development. The world’s first underground railway was nearing the end of a decade of operation and continuing to expand, snaking its way across Greater London. Queen Victoria had been on the throne since 1837 and during her reign Britain led the industrial revolution and extended its reach across the civilised world.

The village of Chelsea began life during the Saxon period and gained its name from the Saxon words Cealc (chalky) and Hythe (a landing place for boats). It is situated on the north bank of the River Thames, some 3 miles from Westminster; the Thames has been an important transport artery for London over many centuries, so a location as strategic as Chelsea would always be ripe for development when the ever-growing capital spread westwards. From the Middle Ages through to the nineteenth century Chelsea was largely occupied by market gardens, but its clean air and close proximity to Westminster attracted the wealthy. Sir Thomas More (1478–1535), Lord Chancellor to King Henry VIII, moved to Chelsea in 1520 and was often visited by Henry when the king travelled to Hampton Court. Sir Christopher Wren built the Royal Hospital between 1682 and 1689. Sir Hans Sloane purchased land here in 1712, eventually becoming Lord of the Manor of Chelsea; Sloane is commemorated in the naming of several Chelsea landmarks such as Sloane Square and Sloane Street. By the early 1800s the population of Chelsea village had risen to 1,500, making it equivalent to a small town.

King’s Road had a defining part to play in the development of modern-day Chelsea. It was built for the private use of Charles II to travel easily between central London, Kew and Hampton Court Palaces. Some of the local nobility were allowed to use the road – for a fee, of course. The 2-mile stretch was finally opened to the public in 1830 and this signalled the development of the more familiar Chelsea we know today. A building boom followed in the first half of the nineteenth century that saw the completion of several King’s Road squares: Paultons, Oakley (renamed Carlyle), Trafalgar (renamed Chelsea), Wellington and Markham. The development of Chelsea was a great investment opportunity for any Victorian entrepreneur with spare cash.

Before 1870 violent crime in Chelsea was almost unheard of; this area was not like the dark, dank, filthy streets of Whitechapel, which would, in eighteen years’ time, harbour a killer of infamous savagery. But in May 1870 the attention of Londoners and others across the country would be drawn to their newspapers as the media of the day reported, in gruesome detail, two horrific murders that shook the residents of this quiet London suburb to the core. Chelsea residents suddenly realised that no one was safe from violent crime.

The Reverend Elias Huelin, born on the predominantly French-speaking Channel Island of Jersey on 19 June 1785, was a curate at the French Protestant church in Soho and assistant chaplain at West London Cemetery (now the Brompton Cemetery). It is unclear when Huelin travelled from Jersey to England; however, shortly after his arrival he purchased a farm in Navenby, Lincolnshire. For some years he worked nearby in Sleaford and was a curate at Evedon. Huelin moved to London and the farm at Navenby was placed under the management of local resident Mr Spafford of Boothby. The earliest record of Huelin living in London can be found in the electoral registers for New Brompton which records him as a resident of No. 5 Seymour Place (now Seymour Walk), Brompton, from 1851 to 1865. The 1861 census (the first to record all occupants of the property) confirms Huelin’s residence there along with his housekeeper Ann Boss. Boss originated from the Lincolnshire village of Witham South, where she had been raised by her father, a blacksmith, and her mother. The electoral register for 1865 reveals Huelin’s extensive property portfolio for the first time as he evolved from a man of God to a capitalist; he is shown as leaseholder for Nos 4, 6, 8 and 9 Seymour Place. By 1867, the electoral register reported Huelin as living at No. 24 Seymour Place. It was at about this time that he started to buy larger, grander properties in the more desirable areas of Chelsea’s King’s Road: Paultons Square (Nos 14, 15 and 32) and Wellington Square (No. 24). By May 1870, Rev. Huelin was living permanently at No. 15 Paultons Square, a large terraced house on the square’s west side, still with his long-term housekeeper. Huelin also kept a small dog, which he would often take on his rent-collecting rounds.

The premeditated and murderous events that unfolded during May 1870 have gone down as the most shameful and shocking in Chelsea’s history. This book examines the events of this period using eyewitness accounts and legal records. What follows is a tale of greed, cruelty and violence which demonstrates a complete disregard for human life. The outcome is a real-life plot that has impersonation and mystery at its core; it is a story that could have come from the pen of contemporary crime writers of the day such as Arthur Conan Doyle, Robert Louis Stephenson or Wilkie Collins.

Contemporary records from the period 1870 used in this book include newspaper reports, illustrations and other sources. Some of these reports use different spellings of the names of the characters featured in this book; to maintain continuity I have used the spelling of the names recorded in official documents (death certificates, census returns and the England and Wales National Probate Calendar) that would have been supplied by the people themselves or close relatives.

G. Powell, 2014

LIST OF CHARACTERS

THE VICTIMS

Ann Boss (AB)

Elias Huelin (EH)

ASSOCIATES/EMPLOYEES OF THE VICTIMS

Eliza Bartlett, housemaid to Rebecca Evans

Charlotte Boss, sister (AB)

Robert Cox, friend (EH)

Rebecca Evans, former tenant (EH)

Edward Huelin, nephew (EH/AB)

Edward John Payne, labourer (EH)

Mrs Harriett Middleton, charwoman (EH/AB)

Miss Harriett Middleton, charwoman (EH)

Margaret Ann Millar, wife of Walter Millar

Walter Millar, plasterer (EH)

William Henry Sansom, friend (EH)

Mrs Harriett Sibley, Millar family friend

James Smith, labourer (EH)

Samuel Stainsby, tenant and next-door neighbour (EH/AB)

Thomas Humble Walker, friend (EH)

Richard Wright, solicitor (EH)

LOCAL RESIDENTS AND TRADESMEN

William Arthur, labourer

Sidney Ball, baker

Thomas Herbert, hackney carriage driver

William Pilditch, butcher and landlord

Henry Piper, carman/removal man

Frederick Vince, gas worker/labourer

METROPOLITAN POLICE

Mark Carroll, Police Constable 235T

Edward Clough, Detective Officer

Joseph Coles, Police Constable 194T

William Fisher, Detective Superintendent

Colonel Henderson, Police Commissioner

Charles James, Police Constable 273T

John Large, Police Sergeant

James Pay, Police Inspector

James Prescott, Police Inspector

Pitt Tarlton, Police Inspector

William Watts, Detective Officer

POLICE SURGEONS

Francis Godrich

Thomas Ryder

Thomas Aubrey Turner

JUDICIARY

Mr Baylis, court sheriff

Mr Beasley, prosecution counsel

William Calcraft, executioner

His Lordship Cockburn, Lord Chief Justice

Mr Collins, defence counsel

Mr Crosby, court sheriff

Dr Thomas Diplock, coroner

Mr Paterson, court sheriff

Mr Poland, prosecution counsel

Mr Selfe, chief magistrate at Westminster police court

Mr St Aubyn, defence counsel

OTHERS

Elizabeth Green, initial suspect in the murder

1

SATURDAY, 7 MAY 1870

The Reverend Elias Huelin and his housekeeper Ann Boss were, like many people, creatures of habit. Huelin was 84 years old, well-respected, plump, balding and bespectacled; he was an easily recognisable member of the district. He was frequently seen leaving his house at No. 15 Paultons Square, in the company of his small dog, to collect rent from properties he owned and let in the local area. On 24 March 1870 Huelin’s nephew Edward, who had been living with his uncle, returned to the family farm in Navenby, Lincolnshire, in order to assist the farm manager Mr Spafford in securing new tenants. Elias Huelin, although a man of the Church, was a shrewd businessman with an extensive property portfolio and a sharp eye for an investable bargain. Huelin placed much trust in his young nephew and appeared to be mentoring Edward to take over his empire. Huelin visited the farm at least once a year, anxious that new tenants must be found, and Edward was expecting his uncle to arrive sometime that month.

The latest addition to Elias Huelin’s property portfolio in May 1870 was in Wellington Square, a quaint garden square dotted with London plane trees further east along the King’s Road. The house, No. 24, was the grandest he had acquired and it stood in the south-west corner with ‘To Let’ signs hanging in the windows. Reverend Huelin was a trusting, honourable man of God who was well-respected within the Chelsea community and had very few, if any, enemies. One person he trusted with the upkeep of his properties was plasterer Walter Millar, a Scot. Millar had been working on No. 24 Wellington Square for some time, often under the direct supervision of Huelin, who was keen to lease it as soon as possible. Millar was a tall, powerfully built man who, with his wife and children, had rented another of Huelin’s properties at No. 27 Seymour Place since 1867, at which time Huelin and Ann Boss occupied No. 24 a few doors down. Huelin and Boss had moved to Paultons Square in 1869 while the Millars remained at Seymour Place.

This tale of violence and deceit begins on the morning of Saturday 7 May 1870, when local baker Sidney Ball of No. 200 Fulham Road delivered the weekend bread order to No. 15 Paultons Square; Huelin was one of his loyal customers. Ball spoke to housekeeper Ann Boss, who appeared to be in good spirits and who placed further orders for the following week; she made no mention to Ball about either of them leaving London. As Sidney Ball turned to leave, little did he realise that this would be the last time he would see Ann Boss alive.

That afternoon Huelin was visited by a charwoman, Mrs Harriett Middleton of Sidney Street, Fulham, whom he employed on a casual basis to clean his untenanted properties. She called at the address in order to collect her wages of 10s. She had worked at No. 24 Wellington Square under the supervision of Huelin’s handyman Walter Millar, who was engaged in plastering and other odd jobs to prepare the house for letting. Middleton knew Millar from a previously shared lodging in Hope Cottage, Stewart’s Grove in Fulham. Harriett Middleton, a 60-year-old married woman, was a bit of a chatterbox: she liked to talk more than work, and this caused Millar frequently to feel frustrated as he did not want to engage in conversation with her during the working day. Reverend Huelin invited Harriett Middleton into the house and gave her a glass of beer; Middleton engaged Ann Boss in conversation, deflecting her from her domestic chores, much to the annoyance of her employer. Huelin must have been satisfied with Middleton’s standard of work as they discussed the possibility of further work in the future and he took down Middleton’s address, claiming he would send for her when required. She left the house mid-afternoon and returned home.

John Carter was a resident of The Vale, Chelsea, and had been a close friend of Elias Huelin and Ann Boss for over twenty-five years. Huelin visited Carter’s home, a five-minute walk away, on that Saturday evening. This was a frequent arrangement between the two men, who would often discuss current affairs and the property market, although it would seem that Carter had no aspirations to follow in his friend’s footsteps. Carter would later recall that they may have had tea together and that as Huelin settled down to read the newspaper he realised that he had lost his glasses, so Carter lent him a spare pair of his own. The evening continued without specific mention of any intention of a trip north to Lincolnshire in the near future.

Carter next saw his friend the following morning about 8 a.m., when they both met while out for a walk in the early summer sunshine. Carter later recalled Huelin mentioning that he had been feeling unwell and would be travelling up to Navenby Farm in Lincolnshire to see his nephew Edward and intended staying for a couple of weeks. It is not clear if his housekeeper was to travel with him, but Carter knew this to be normal practice as he was aware that she had family in the area as well. Carter was slightly puzzled that his friend had not confided in him the evening before about his health or his intention to travel, but he wished his friend a safe journey and good health, and stated that he would visit him on his return. In fact, the friends were destined to meet again rather sooner than planned, and in circumstances that were to scar Mr Carter for the rest of his life.

2

MONDAY, 9 MAY 1870

Paultons Square, like many other squares in the area, had a private central garden, only accessible by resident keyholders who paid a fee towards its maintenance. Many of London’s garden squares were maintained by garden committees, some introducing their own by-laws to govern the upkeep of the area. This was precisely the case with Paultons Square, which had an appointed ‘square-keeper’ called John Hunt, whose responsibilities included the security of the square and its inhabitants. He would have known the occupants personally, including the vulnerable and problematic, and when properties were unoccupied. He took great pride in his responsibilities and regularly patrolled the square both night and day with professional vigilance. Hunt was on patrol in the square at 7 a.m. on this Monday morning; he knew Huelin and Boss were the only occupants of No. 15 following the departure of Huelin’s nephew Edward a few weeks earlier. During his patrol he saw Boss from a distance, cleaning the stairs of No. 15, but was too far away to engage her in conversation. By the time Hunt worked his way around the square back to No. 15, Boss had gone back inside. This was a significant sighting as there is no other evidence of Ann Boss being seen alive again.

Later that same morning, at 10 a.m., Hunt saw Rev. Huelin leave No. 15 and walk with a determined purpose south across the enclosure of the square in the direction of the River Thames. He returned to the square about 10.15 a.m. and continued to walk in the direction of the busy King’s Road, past his own house, turning right towards Wellington Square to the east. Hunt could see that Huelin was in business mode, head down and concentrating on his forthcoming day; he was loath to interrupt his train of thought, often envious of the seemingly boundless energy the 84 year old possessed.

Elias Huelin, although approaching his 85th birthday, was a spritely, energetic man and was often seen walking between his properties at some pace. Yet on this occasion, maybe due to his previously mentioned ill-health, he elected to take a horse-drawn omnibus the half mile or so to Wellington Square. Huelin’s short journey would have included sights long lost to the district, including the imposing Chelsea workhouse on the corner of Arthur Street (now Dovehouse Street). This T-shaped block was built in 1843, with additional buildings (a master’s house, vagrant ward and mortuary) being added in 1860. Huelin alighted from his carriage at the junction with Wellington Square. It was at this point during the short journey on foot to his property at No. 24 Wellington Square that Huelin was observed by several acquaintances.

William Sansom lived at No. 132 King’s Road, Chelsea, and had known Elias Huelin for many years. Sansom witnessed Huelin alight from the omnibus, cross King’s Road and enter Wellington Square, walking in the direction of No. 24 in the south-west corner. Sansom believed the time to be around 11 a.m. and noticed that, unusually, Huelin did not have his pet dog with him. He later recalled that Huelin was dressed in a new suit of clothes and was wearing a hat. No conversation took place between the two men and Sansom never saw him again.

Robert Cox, of Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, who later described himself as a private gentleman, had visited William Sansom earlier at his home in King’s Road before leaving and returning to Wellington Square on other business. He confirmed the time specifically as 11 a.m. when he saw Huelin in the square. They had a short, general conversation about Huelin’s health, wished each other a good day and then went their separate ways. Cox had known Huelin for some time and was aware that he was a former clergyman.

The most significant witness was Thomas Humble Walker, the occupant of No. 6 Wellington Square. Humble Walker recalled the time as 11.15 a.m. when he saw his acquaintance, Elias Huelin, climbing the stairs of No. 24 as if he were about to enter. Walker did not think this unusual as he was aware Huelin had recently acquired property in the square; he turned away to continue with his business and did not actually see Huelin enter the building.

Back in Paultons Square, the baker Sidney Ball made his usual call around 12–1 p.m. at the Huelin household. He knocked and rang the bell, but could get no answer.

The Admiral Keppel public house was located at No. 117 Fulham Road, near to the junction of Keppel Street (now Sloane Avenue), and in 1870 was a working-man’s pub. Keppel Street ran almost directly between Fulham Road and King’s Road adjacent to Wellington Square. Elias Huelin’s plasterer and handyman Walter Millar arrived at the Admiral Keppel for a lunchtime drink about 12.30 p.m., an hour and a quarter after the final sighting of Rev. Huelin in Wellington Square. Millar arrived at the pub with purpose and had little trouble finding the man he was seeking: Edward James Payne, a general labourer who worked on a part-time basis for a building firm in Westminster Bridge Road (or for anybody else who would pay him). He was a regular at the Admiral Keppel. Payne had known Millar for about three years, often doing the odd labouring job for him.

There were no pleasantries between the two men, only an offer of work by Millar to Payne. Millar informed Payne that the owner of the house in which he was working in Wellington Square had instructed him, presumably that morning, to dig a drain for a water closet. Payne eagerly agreed to the work and Millar pointed out that he would need a pick and a shovel. The labourer drained his drink and said he would return in half an hour as he would need to borrow the tools, having none of his own. On Payne’s return just after 1 p.m. he found Millar waiting at the Admiral Keppel.

Millar was relaxed, in no rush and even offered to buy Payne another drink, after which they left the Admiral Keppel around 1.30 p.m. Payne followed Millar down Keppel Street, crossing over King’s Road and turning left into Wellington Square. The walk took approximately ten minutes and they arrived about 1.40 p.m. Millar took out a bunch of keys and opened the door of No. 24, and both men went directly down the stairs leading to the back yard. Millar pointed out the place where Payne needed to replace one drain with another in order to insert a water closet. Payne looked at Millar in a bemused manner and made it known that this would be a strange place to site such an item. Millar was insistent that the landlord had instructed him that it be dug where he directed. Payne proceeded with his work, thinking of his wages rather than the practicalities of the job, while Millar sat and watched him, never leaving the labourer unsupervised. Payne dug a hole 3ft deep and 7ft long along the base of the boundary wall between Nos 24 and 25. Millar insisted that none of the flagstones be moved because the old gentleman did not want them disturbed. Payne continued with his work for just over an hour, at which point Millar told him to stop, saying he would need to consult Huelin before proceeding any further and that he would work at the excavation himself.

Both men went back inside the house to the front kitchen, and Millar told Payne to leave his tools and come back the following morning at 6.30 a.m. to finish the drain and lay the pipes. Before Millar left, he removed the ‘House to Let’ bills positioned in the front parlour and kitchen windows. They then left No. 24, Millar locking the door after him. They crossed King’s Road and went into Markham Street where they parted company about 3 p.m.

Mrs Harriett Sibley, a widow of Rutland Street in Knightsbridge, was a former lodger of the Millar family at No. 26 Seymour Place, Brompton (now Seymour Walk), where they occupied three rooms of the property owned by Elias Huelin. She still kept in touch with Margaret Anne, Walter Millar’s wife, and often visited her. On Monday, 9 May at 3.30 p.m. Sibley called on the Millars; on her arrival she recalled that Walter was in the process of washing for dinner and was wearing grey trousers with no shirt, just a vest. Millar sat down to dinner in this attire whilst his wife ironed a clean shirt, collar and cuffs for her husband. Sibley remembered that Walter was in a particularly good mood, laughing and sharing a joke with his company. He rather rushed his dinner and then got fully dressed before stating that he had to go to Hornsey in north London regarding work. He left the house at 4 p.m.; Sibley stayed until 10 p.m. and Walter did not return.

At roughly the time Walter Millar had left his Brompton home, a tenant of Huelin’s, Miss Rebecca Evans, visited Huelin’s house at No. 15 Paultons Square. Miss Evans lived at No. 82 Park Walk, a short distance away. She rented No. 32 Paultons Square but had not lived there for some time; in fact she had sub-let the property and 9 May saw the expiration of the tenancy agreement. Evans wished to return the key to her landlord and had arranged an appointment for this day, but with no specific time. She knocked, rang the doorbell and waited, expecting Huelin or Boss to be at home, but for the second time that day (following the baker, Sidney Ball) no one answered. She found this strange as Huelin was a reliable and punctual landlord, especially in matters of business, and a man who loved his dog, which was currently sitting on the doorstep. She considered this odd, as she knew it was unlikely the old man would have left the small dog out, but did not think it suspicious. Miss Evans made further repeated attempts to speak to Huelin, re-visiting between late afternoon and early evening, again with no reply. Miss Eliza Bartlett, Evans’s servant, also visited the house that day without seeing anyone.

Samuel Stainsby was Huelin’s next-door neighbour at No. 14 Paultons Square, yet another house owned and rented by Huelin. Stainsby, an artistic actor (as recorded in the 1871 census), was on very good terms with his landlord and the housekeeper Ann Boss. He assumed that he would have been informed of any plans for them to travel to Lincolnshire to visit Huelin’s nephew, with whom Stainsby was acquainted. The artist had been told nothing of the sort, but it was not until later, at about 10 p.m. on the evening of Monday, 9 May, that he was alerted to the fact that everything was not as it should be. Stainsby was a family man, married with a number of children, and it was they who told him about Huelin’s dog sitting patiently on the doorstep of No. 15. Stainsby knew that if either Huelin or Boss were at home then the dog would have been inside the house, and he doubted that the elderly Huelin would be out at this late hour. Stainsby walked out into his own back garden and peered over the wall and into the back windows of No. 15. He observed that the house was in darkness, giving the impression that the place was unoccupied. Stainsby noticed that several windows were partly open and the back door was insecure, causing him concern for his landlord’s safety. Stainsby, on his way to Chelsea police station to report his discovery, attempted to convince himself that Huelin and Boss had, however improbably, travelled to Lincolnshire leaving the house insecure and the dog abandoned.

Stainsby returned to Paultons Square with two police officers, PCs 235T Mark Carroll and 273T Charles James, about 11.30 p.m. (letters featured after police numbers denote the division on which they were stationed; in 1870 Chelsea was on ‘T’ division). After unsuccessfully attempting to gain entry through the front door, Stainsby directed the police officers through his house and into the back garden; all three climbed over the wall and into the garden of No. 15. They slipped through the unlocked back door and searched all the rooms of the house, including the coal cellar. On the first floor they were slightly puzzled by the presence of a pail half-filled with dirty water, a piece of soap and cleaning cloths lying on the floor nearby. When passing through the basement kitchen, both police officers noticed a securely fastened wooden box resting in the middle of the floor but this aroused no suspicion. They were of the mind that the occupants had travelled north, and they investigated no further. The house was secured throughout and the police officers reported their findings back to their supervisor, who instructed the local beat officer to pay visits throughout the night.