Murder and Crime Birmingham E-Book

Vanessa Morgan

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

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

Beschreibung

This chilling collection brings together true-life historical murders that shocked not only the city but frequently made headline news throughout the country. Cases featured here include riots in 1791, a bank robbery in 1844 and an arson attack in 1912. Murder most foul also raises it's ugly head, with John Thompson stabbed his common-law wife in a fit of drunken jealousy in 1861, and Mary Albion is murdered in her bed when a robbery went wrong in 1898. Vanessa Morgan's well-illustrated and enthralling text will appeal to everyone interested in true crime and the shadier side of Birmingham's past.

Leseprobe

Birmingham Town Hall, c. 1900. (Author’s collection)

Acknowledgements

Research for this book was mainly undertaken using the local newspapers of the period. These included the Birmingham Daily Post, Birmingham Mail, Birmingham Weekly Post, and Birmingham Aris Gazette, all of which are held in the Birmingham Archives and Heritage Centre in Birmingham Library.

The Times Digital Archive also provided valuable help, showing the dates of these various crimes in order to pinpoint them in the local newspapers.

The census records and parish registers, also held in the Archives and Heritage Centre in Birmingham Library, assisted greatly in detailing specific addresses.

C.C.H. Moriarty’s book Birmingham City Police Centenary, Monday, 20 November 1939, was of great help in compiling the history of Birmingham’s criminal and judicial history.

Finally, without the help of the Midland Railway Society, I may never have discovered exactly where Edgbaston railway station was!

Birmingham Post Office, c. 1900. (Author’s collection)

CONTENTS

Title

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Case One

‘Destruction to the present government’, 1791

Case Two

The Walls were Stained with Blood, 1828

Case Three

‘That devil Davenport is my greatest enemy’, 1838

Case Four

‘Where you, go I will go’, 1838

Case Five

‘Where are the police?’, 1839

Case Six

Tied up in a Sack, 1839

Case Seven

‘If I am to hang I shall die innocent’, 1840

Case Eight

‘A young man of respectable appearance’, 1844

Case Nine

‘Oh Frank, what have you done?’, 1860

Case Ten

‘Oh my wench I wish I hadn’t done it’, 1861

Case Eleven

‘Will you come back to Sutton now?’, 1861

Case Twelve

‘I shook hands and kissed her’, 1863

Case Thirteen

‘I loved her intensely’, 1864

Case Fourteen

‘He smelt very strongly of creosote’, 1868

Case Fifteen

‘It’s me who chived him, see feel the knife, it’s wet’, 1875

Case Sixteen

‘I’ve just thrown old Paget’s daughter in the canal’, 1879

Case Seventeen

‘Her head was battered in’, 1888

Case Eighteen

The Daring Street Robbery in Birmingham, 1891

Case Nineteen

‘I was there but I don’t know what I did’, 1893

Case Twenty

The Murder of Quaint Mary, 1898

Case Twenty-one

‘I will kill him before the night is out!’, 1912

Case Twenty-two

‘I have given you the opportunity’, 1912

Copyright

Introduction

It is hard to imagine the large, sprawling city of Birmingham as once being a small, manorial parish. But before the Industrial Revolution changed the face of Britain this was certainly the case.

The town was run by an ancient body known as the Court Leet. They consisted of a High Bailiff, a Low Bailiff and the Court Leet Jury, all local men of some standing. Every year they would appoint a Headborough and two constables. The Headborough, also known as the Prison Keeper, was in charge of the Public Office and was assisted by half-a-dozen men known as ‘thief-takers’. The constables’ job was to keep law and order.

As the town grew, the old manorial system became out-dated and the Improvement Acts and Street Acts of 1769 and 1773 gave limited control to a Board of Street Commissioners. It was their responsibility to keep the streets safe and they appointed street keepers and nightwatchmen to patrol the streets day and night. These men were provided with a uniform and equipment and were instructed to provide protection for people and property, and to also deal with traffic problems and obstructions.

Another body of law enforcers were the Justices of the Peace and the magistrates. They carried out their duties at the Public Office in Moor Street and in times of trouble would enrol special constables to assist the keepers and watchmen.

The old jailhouse was in Peck Lane, where New Street railway station now stands, but in 1806 a new gaol was built in Moor Street, next to the Public Office. This is now the site of Moor Street station.

By 1839 there were thirty street keepers and 180 nightwatchmen, but in the summer of this year the Chartist Riots took place. A hundred special constables were sworn in to try to supress the riots but they couldn’t cope and re-enforcements from the Metropolitan Police in London were brought to help. Following this, an Act of Parliament was passed giving Birmingham permission to set up its own police force.

The last Headborough and constables were appointed on 25 October 1839. They were Mr George Redfern, who had been Headborough since 1811, William Corbett of New Street and Thomas Weston of High Street. Their appointment was short-lived as their positions were abolished on 20 November 1839.

George Glossop listed on the 1851 census. (HO107/2054/31/3. Held in Birmingham Archives and Heritage)

A few months earlier, on 1 September 1839, Francis Burgess had been appointed as the first Police Commissioner for Birmingham. He was a barrister but had been in the 54th Foot Regiment from 1812 to 1817, and had been a captain at the Battle of Waterloo. He rented a house in Union Street for himself and his family and also established his office there, but moved to Waterloo Street in 1840.

It was Burgess’ job to recruit a sufficient number of suitable men as police constables, and the local newspapers on 3 October 1839 printed an appeal for ‘young men not over 36 or under 5’ 8’, able to read and write and produce testimonials of exceptional character.’ By 30 November 1839, 260 men had been recruited following examinations by a police surgeon and an inspector from the Metropolitan Police. They were paid 17s a week and given a uniform. One shilling was deducted if lodgings had to be found for them. Members of the Metropolitan Police, who had remained in the town following the riots, left on 20 November and reported to the Home Office that the men ‘cut a very good figure and seem to have made a good impression.’

On 25 November magistrates arranged to sit daily from that day onwards at 10 a.m. at the Public Office, Moor Street, to hear police cases.

Francis Burgess retired in September 1842. He thanked his new force for their excellent conduct and hoped that they would continue to maintain the same high character under the new governing body. This new governing body, known as the Watch Committee, comprised of the mayor along with a selection of aldermen and councillors. Richard A. Stephens was appointed as the first Chief Superintendent. When he retired in 1860, the position was given to George Glossop. George had been one of the original members of the force, having joined as a constable in November 1839.

By 1849, Moor Street Gaol had become too small and so was replaced by Winson Green Prison, built by Daniel R. Hill. It has been altered and re-built many times over the years.

The Council House, built between 1874 and 1879. (© V. Morgan)

Before 1884, criminal cases from Birmingham were tried at Warwick Assizes, but in 1884 Birmingham became an assize town. The first cases were heard at the Council House on Monday 4 August before Baron Huddleston and Mr Justice Wills who were judges on the Midland Circuit. Baron Huddleston said, ‘It was a matter of great congratulations that the calendar was very light. [That] there were no cases of brutal violence.’ Those tried at the first assizes were John Reardon, a jeweller, for inciting William Fry to steal a quantity of jewellery from the Birmingham Mint, his employers, John Welch, for damaging shop windows and George Jones for offering counterfeit money.

The new Victoria Law Courts in Corporation Street were built to house the assizes in the late 1880s by Birmingham firm, John Bowen & Sons. The foundation stone was laid by Queen Victoria on 23 March 1887 and the courts were opened by the Prince and Princess of Wales on 12 July 1891. The building is now the Magistrates Court.

Sentence of death is what most criminals could expect before the nineteenth century and the sentence would always be carried out within forty-eight hours of the trial. But by the turn of the century it was usually only murderers who faced the hangman’s noose and as the nineteenth century progressed their wait until that meeting lengthened to fourteen days.

The Birmingham Daily Post in April 1863 gave a summary of what life was like for a condemned man in the days following his trial:

From the moment of his condemnation until the period fixed for his execution a murderer is the most carefully tended inmate of a prison. The law is so jealous lest it should be cheated of its victim that he is watched night and day, without a momentary interval, by special warders. Perhaps it is a merciful consideration that the unhappy wretch is not left alone to brood over his own thoughts to count the weary moments; to listen to the deep clanging of the prison clock, and feel another hour of his life has flown.

But the law is still considerate. It gives to the murderer what he denied to his victim – time for preparation, for repentance. The chaplain of the gaol makes the murderer his special care, joining in most fervently in prayers daily offered to him.

Following the sitting of the Royal Commission on Capital Punishment from 1864-6, public hangings were abolished in 1868. Executions now took place behind the prison walls and a black flag was raised to let those waiting outside know the punishment had happened. People still gathered outside just to see that black flag. Initially, newspaper reporters were still allowed to watch the hanging and members of the victim’s family were also invited. Although executions continued for many more years, the flying of the black flag ended in 1902.

Some fortunate criminals found that mitigating circumstances averted them from making that sad journey to the scaffold, as some of the following cases show. So let me now take you to meet some of these characters and judge for yourselves whether their sentences were just, or whether some did actually get away with murder …

Vanessa Morgan, 2012

Case One

‘Destruction to the present government’

1791

Suspects:

Francis Field and John Green

Age:

Unknown

Charge:

Rioting

Sentence:

Execution

In the summer of 1791 Birmingham was described as a place ‘where all the wealthy and principle inhabitants were dissenters’. They were said to be poisoning the minds of the lower classes with wild ideas of abolishing the Crown and establishing the ‘Rights of Man’. One of these men was Joseph Priestley, a minister of the New Unitarian Meeting House and a strong supporter of the French Revolution. He preached, it was said, ‘with the spirit of animated republicanism’.

Temple Row. (© V. Morgan)

On 11 June 1791, an announcement appeared in the local newspaper inviting like-minded people to a dinner at the Dadley & Co. Hotel in Temple Row, to celebrate the second anniversary of the storming of the Bastille: ‘Any Friend to Freedom disposed to join the intended temperate festivity is desired to leave his name at the bar of the Hotel, where tickets may be had at five shillings each.’

Handbills were distributed saying, ‘My Countrymen: the second year of the Gallic Liberty is nearly expired; at the commencement of the third, on the 14th of this month, it is devoutly to be wished that every enemy to civil and religious despotism, would give his sanction to the majestic common cause, by public celebration of the anniversary.’ It went on to remind the populace of the enthusiasm aroused when the Bastille, ‘that high altar and castle of despotism’, fell, and to describe Parliament as ‘venal’, ministers as ‘hypocritical’, the clergy as ‘legal oppressors’ and the Crown as ‘too weighty for the head that wears it’.

Questions were raised as to whether the bill was a forgery or if it was a scheme to raise a mob for the purpose of plunder. Unfortunately, it proved to be the latter. As the eighty-one guests arrived at 3 p.m. on that Thursday afternoon, they were greeted by a small crowd of protestors. At first these protestors were peaceful, merely jeering and booing at the diners, but then through the windows they heard the first toast – ‘destruction to the present government and the King’s head upon a charger.’ The crowd rushed into the hotel, breaking windows, furniture and glasses, and throwing stones at the guests as they made their escape. The damage amounted to £144 11s 11d.

From the hotel, a group made their way to Priestley’s meeting house, where they tore down the pulpit, made a bonfire of the contents and then set fire to the building. Another group went to his house at Fair Hill, two miles away, and set fire to it. They also made an effigy of him which they hung up and burned. Ironically, despite fervently preaching against the luxuries of life and the use of strong liquor, which he said was vulgar, his cellar was found to be filled with wine. The rioters helped themselves and became intoxicated.

As word spread, more people joined the rioters. At seven o’clock that evening they held a meeting behind the Swan Inn to choose dwelling houses and meeting houses for destruction. Meanwhile, the magistrates Joseph Charles and Dr Spencer swore in as many constables as they could, and soldiers from the Oxford Blues were ordered to march to Birmingham.

The riots continued through Friday and Saturday but by Sunday morning the town was said to be quiet, apart from twenty men lying drunk on the green. However, as soon as the morning services ended, the riots began again. By Sunday evening the damage amounted to £250,000, and, with no business having been transacted since Thursday, an estimated loss of about £3,000 revenue.

John Ryland’s house at Easy Hill was burnt down because his son had helped Priestley to escape. Mr Humphrey’s house at the turnpike was pulled down. He had offered the mob 8,000 guineas to spare it, but the rioters said money wasn’t their object. Dr Withring was the first surgeon in Birmingham, but he was a dissenter, so wasn’t spared. His house was pulled down on Sunday evening.

Other principal houses demolished or set on fire were – the Old and New Meeting Houses in Birmingham, Revd Coult’s and Mr Ryland’s at Five Ways, Moseley Hall in Bordesely (the property of John Taylor the co-founder of the bank Taylor Lloyds, now Lloyds TSB), Mr Hobson’s in Balsall Heath, Mr Russell’s in Shovel Green, Mr Hanwood’s in King’s Heath and in nearby Moseley, Mr Hawkes Jnr’s, Mr Budd’s and Mr Harwood’s.

The rioters were very organised in the ways they attacked the buildings: If a house was detached, it would be set on fire; if semi-detached, the doors and windows were broken and the furniture taken out into the street, piled up and set alight. While doing all this they continually chanted ‘God Save the King’, ‘Long Live the King, Church and State,’ or ‘Down with Dissenters’.