by Sheila Hardy
Mr Juby: If anybody said you did this is wrong?
Mrs Farley: Yes, I should think so. Mr Cooper once took Mr Farley by the shoulders and told him he ought to behave better.
Bearing in mind the difference in physical stature between the two men, one wonders exactly what occurred at this exchange which can only have been reported upon by one of the household staff.
Mr Juby: What was the cause of the animus in the mind of Mr Farley?
Mrs Farley: I used to tell him he was jealous, but he said he was not.
Mr Juby: Was Mr Farley, in plain terms, jealous of you?
Mrs Farley: No; he had too much sense.
Mr Juby: Then what did he mean by saying when you and Mr Cooper went out together, ‘There go the two courters.’
Mrs Farley: I never heard him say that – I don’t believe he said it.
Coroner (interrupting): I don’t see what this has to do with it.
Mr Juby: Did you and Mr Cooper ever kiss each other?
Mrs Farley: (indignantly) No; if I did I do not think it would be wrong.
One of the other jurors, Gocher, felt things had gone far enough and protested against the questions put by Juby. Undeterred, Juby persisted and repeated them.
Mrs Farley: I treated Mr Cooper as my younger brother. I knew he was very strange at times, but he was quite like a boy, and I managed him well. Mr Farley was not jealous of us; he was rather glad when Mr Cooper came back so that he and I could go for walks together.
Mr Juby: You mean to tell the jury you never kissed Mr
Cooper?
Mrs Farley: No, and if I did I should not mind.
Mr Juby: Do you mean to say you never had?
Harriet had had enough of this. She rose to her feet, glared at Juby and turned towards the door as if to leave. Juby yelled at her to stop.
Mrs Farley: If I had kissed him I should not look upon it as a sin. There would be no harm in it. I am a motherly person, and have been accustomed to young fellows all my life.
Mr Juby: How was it then that you objected to Mr Cooper associating with other females?
Mrs Farley: Because it was not good for him.
The packed court must have been twisting in their seats at this interchange. For some this would have been simply a case of bringing well-told gossip into the open while for others it was providing a motive based on rejected love. While they were pondering on this and wondering what else Juby would dredge up, there was a diversion in the form of the prisoner suddenly rising to his feet. At the mention of other females, Arthur, flushed and excited called out: ‘I don’t think you need talk of that matter very much, if I may be allowed to speak.’ Is this a clue that Harriet Louisa had interfered in some romantic attachment that Arthur had formed? His outburst, however, gave the spectators the drama they had wanted.
The calm demeanour, even hauteur, the widow had kept up was now shattered. It appeared to the onlookers that until this point she had been unaware of his presence in the room. When she saw him, she screamed out, ‘Oh poor boy!’ and became hysterical. Alas, the reporter failed to give more details of this, what happened or who calmed her down. The poor coroner attempted to smooth things over by saying it was hardly necessary to pursue the question but Juby was adamant. How, he enquired, were they were to arrive at the climax if they had not thoroughly examined the antecedents to the case?
It appears Juby had some personal or political motive, for when the coroner pointed out that the deceased, having come by his death in a violent manner, it was their duty to find out who was responsible, Juby made the following declaration: ‘There is no doubt about that; if that is all we have to do. One juryman was committed for three months for asking questions, and I am prepared to go to gaol rather than have my tongue tied. It is this cliqueism in England that we have to contend with.’
Juby then talked of having his mouth shut for him and insisted that it was not the prisoner’s mental state that was in question; it was what had gone on before that was, in his opinion, the basis of the case. Eventually the coroner allowed him to seek an answer from Mrs Farley as to why she had objected to Arthur seeing other females.
Mrs Farley: When I thought he was mixing with other people I thought he ought not to, I talked to him as a mother, and advised him as best I could.
Mr Juby: But he is thirty-three.
Mrs Farley: Yes, but he is only a boy. I have for twenty years, with my late husband, taken a great interest in the young ensigns of the regiment, and if I have any young gentlemen about me, I always take an interest in them.
Mr Juby: You have a right to do as you please; but people will hold you accountable for your actions.
Mrs Farley: You lower yourself, sir, by listening to such gossip.
The coroner turned his attention to the prisoner asking if he were represented by a solicitor. Arthur replied that he was not aware of such representation.
Mrs Farley: Poor boy.
Coroner: Are there any questions you would like to ask Mrs Farley?
Prisoner: No, I don’t think so; she seems to have given a very true and explicit account of the important affair.
Coroner: You had better not say anything. Whatever you do say will be taken down, and may be used against you.
Dr Jones was called next to present the medical evidence. The vital question asked was whether the fatal incision had been made by the right or left hand. Jones gave it as his opinion that it had been from a right hand. At no time was it reported if it had been established that Arthur was right- or left-handed. If he was right-handed, then it is likely he would have carried the candlestick in that hand. If that were the case and he had the razor concealed in his left, then at some point he would have had to set the candle down and change hands to commit the deed. Then having done it, he would have again picked up the light. The jury tried hard to ascertain whether or not the candlestick remained in Arthur’s hand all the time but there was never a satisfactory answer to this.
The jury then wanted to know if blood would have spurted out immediately the throat had been cut. Apparently this was a popular misconception and the doctor spoke of the small stain about the size of a half crown on the pillow and traces on the sheet which he believed was consistent with the wound having been inflicted while the victim was in the bed.
The first policeman on the scene, PC Moore, gave his account. Contrary to the report in the East Anglian Daily Times of 3 October, he stated that he was the one who found the razor tucked under the looking glass in Arthur’s room. He now produced it as evidence.
The theme of razors was continued by Supt Balls who showed the court the razor case which Harriet had handed him on Sunday morning; the razor case which she said she had removed from Arthur’s dressing table and hidden in a chest of drawers in a spare room. The case was fitted to hold two matching razors but when Supt Balls had opened it there was only one inside, which would appear to be pretty conclusive evidence that the missing one must be the bloodstained razor produced earlier. Except that although that one was identified by Bilney as Arthur’s, it was not the partner of the one in the razor case. Nobody seems to have asked what had become of the third one.
Frank Bilney was called next. Whether taciturn by nature or merely overcome by the seriousness of the occasion, he did not prove the easiest of witnesses:
Bilney: I was called yesterday morning about a quarter past twelve by Mrs Farley.
Coroner: What did she say to you?
Bilney: ‘Come and look at your master.’ I went with her and saw my master lying on the floor. He was breathing.
Coroner: Did you raise his head?
Bilney: No, sir; I didn’t do nothing.
Coroner: Had you heard a noise on the landing?
Bilney: No, sir.
Coroner: You sleep on the floor above the deceased’s room?
Bilney: Yes, sir.
Coroner: You heard no shrieking or anything of that kind?
Bilney: No, sir.
Coroner: Did Mrs Farley seem mu
ch worried?
Bilney: Yes, sir.
Coroner: She seemed greatly overcome?
Bilney: Yes, sir.
Coroner: Then you went for the doctor?
Bilney: Yes, sir.
Coroner: She sent you?
Bilney: Yes, sir.
Coroner: Had you anything to do with Mr Cooper’s room?
Bilney: Yes, sir, in the mornings.
Coroner: Should you know his razors if you saw them?
Bilney: I should know one of them.
Shown the razor in the case produced by Supt Balls, Bilney identified the case as Arthur’s but not the razor in it. However, he did recogize the bloodstained one and agreed that it belonged to the accused.
Foreman of the jury: Did you see Mr Cooper in his room?
Bilney: Yes, sir, after I had seen Mr Farley.
Foreman: Did he speak to you?
Bilney: No, sir.
Coroner: What was he doing?
Bilney: Making a terrible noise, sir.
Foreman: Didn’t you say a word to him before you went for the doctor?
Bilney: No, sir.
Gocher: Have you noticed any difference in Mr Cooper’s conduct during the last few days?
Bilney: Yes, sir, a little.
Coroner: In what way?
Bilney: He used to tear about and seemed very much worried.
Once more Mr Juby took up the questioning, inviting Frank to disclose information about the household on which the local gossip was based.
Juby: You waited on Mr Cooper before he got up in the morning?
Bilney: I did, sir.
Juby: Always?
Bilney: Yes, sir.
Juby: Anybody else?
Bilney: No, sir.
Juby: Nobody else went into the room?
Bilney: No, sir. I used to take his hot water every morning.
Juby: Every morning?
Bilney: Ever since I have been there.
Juby: If anyone said you didn’t, that would be wrong?
Bilney: Yes: if so it had been when I was holidaymaking.
Juby: Mrs Farley didn’t take it?
Bilney: I don’t know who took it.
Juby: Did you never know Mrs Farley go into his room?
Bilney: What do you mean?
Juby: Have you ever known Mrs Farley go into his room?
Bilney: Oh, yes.
Juby: Before he got up?
Bilney: Yes.
Juby: Repeatedly?
Bilney: (after some hesitation)Yes.
Juby: And she used to spend some little time in the room, didn’t she?
Bilney: No, only a few minutes.
Juby: If anyone else says she used to spend a lot of time in his room that would be wrong?
Bilney: What do you mean by a long time?
Juby:A quarter of an hour or so?
Bilney: No.
Coroner: Have you seen her go into his room?
Bilney: I have not.
Juby: You know Annie Eadie who lived there?
Bilney: Yes.
Juby: Mary Friend was gone when you went?
Bilney: Yes.
Juby: Annie Eadie used to talk to you about Mrs Farley being in Mr Cooper’s room, didn’t she?
Bilney: Yes, she has told me Mrs Farley had been in the room; that is all I know.
Juby, having finally brought into the open the rumours that Harriet Louisa had, at one time, been in the habit of visiting Arthur in his bedroom, was now prepared to leave the matter. The jury then requested that William Emmerson be called. This caused the coroner some concern, as the man had not been previously examined about the case. The interchange which followed, with Juby again making a stand, raised interesting legal points.
Emmerson, having related the events of Saturday in which he had been involved, went on to describe what had occurred when he went to the vicarage early on Sunday morning: ‘I saw a policeman and asked him if I could see Mr Cooper. He said “Yes”. I went upstairs and saw him in his room. I said “Good morning,” and he nodded. I said, “Sir, it is a sad affair that has happened.” He said “Yes, it is, very.” I asked him whether he had any cause for what he had done?’
The coroner questioned if this could be entered as evidence as it was not certain if Arthur had at that stage been cautioned. However, Juby, referring to the newspaper account he had read, said that Emmerson had asked Arthur how long he had thought about committing the deed and been given the answer, ‘I thought of it yesterday’. Juby again crossed swords with the coroner who wished to disallow Emmerson’s hearsay evidence.
Before summing up, the coroner asked Arthur if he had anything he wished to say and was given the answer, ‘No, I don’t think I have any observations to make.’ The coroner then addressed the jury thus:
I don’t think I shall detain you very long in this case. The most material evidence is that of Mrs Farley. It seems that the prisoner was seen by Mrs Farley to go into the room of the deceased with a candle in one hand, and she knows not what in the other. He had been there but a short time when the deceased appears to have called out that his throat was cut. Whether that statement was made in the hearing of the prisoner or not Mrs Farley cannot possibly say, but at any rate the deceased’s throat was cut, and a razor was found in the prisoner’s bedroom under the looking glass, hid up, apparently with blood upon it.A small quantity of blood was also seen on his clothes. I don’t see that there is anything to connect any other person with the act, and I must leave it with you to say whether or not the prisoner is guilty of the crime of wilful murder.
Contrary to what happens in a normal courtroom, the jury did not leave to consider their verdict. Presumably this was because there was no other place suitable to which to adjourn. So they stayed where they were and everyone else had to leave. One imagines that the witnesses and spectators had to stand outside until after ‘a short interval’ they were readmitted to hear the foreman of the jury deliver the verdict of ‘wilful murder’.
In reading out the verdict, the coroner, Mr Brooke, named the prisoner as Arthur Edgar Gilbert-Cooper. Arthur corrected him, pointing out that his second name was Edward not Edgar. The coroner, having made the amendment, explained that the jury had found him guilty of wilful murder.
Prisoner: The jury have?
Coroner: Yes.
Prisoner: (contemptuously) Oh. I can only say it was not wilful.
Mr Brooke advised Arthur to say nothing more. The warrant for his committal for trial was made out and he was ordered back to Framlingham.
These accounts taken from the Suffolk Times and Mercury can be taken as reasonably accurate since they correspond with the handwritten testimonies produced at the inquest and now lodged at the Public Record Office at Kew. With the statements there is also a handwritten list of the coroner and jury members. Beside each name is written the sum of £8, the fee received for their service. There is also a bill headed the Crown Hotel, Framlingham – Family, Commercial and Posting House. Made out to Supt Balls, it is for the hire of a brougham, to and from Cretingham for 7s 6d. A further 2s was charged for the driver and horse.
This was the carriage used to transport the prisoner, which itself became the focus of attention. At the conclusion of the inquest, a large and mainly hostile crowd had gathered in the street outside The Bell. When it was thought that Arthur was to be brought out, the crowd surged around the carriage with shouts of ‘hang him!’ Fearing the mob might take matters into their own hands, the police kept Arthur back, put a decoy into the brougham and ordered it to drive off as fast as possible. With the angry crowd pursuing it, Arthur was brought out; the carriage did a rapid turnabout back to The Bell, picked up its passenger and his guards and was smartly off before the crowd realized they had been duped.
The village was slowly coming to terms with being a centre of macabre interest. By the time the inquest had been reported in the local press, the nationals were on to it and by Thursday when the Magistrates’ Court took place, journalists
had descended on the area from The Times, the London Reporting Association, the Pall Mall Gazette, the Pictorial News and The Illustrated Police News as well as those from Norwich and surrounding areas. Other newspapers around the country took their stories from one or other of these sources. The Cretingham murder was the talking point of the moment.
The local daily papers were, of course, at an advantage but one can’t help sympathising with the weekly Suffolk Chronicle and the Framlingham News which had to wait until Saturday before they could apprise their readers of all that had taken place. A reporter from the Ipswich evening paper, the Star of the East, managed a scoop. He was in the village for the inquest and on the following day, Tuesday, he sounded out the locals for their reactions. They were, he declared, very divided on Mr Juby’s line of questioning. There were some who no doubt felt that village gossip should remain there, in the village, and not be blazoned abroad for all to share. Strolling up through Cretingham, the reporter ventured to the vicarage itself where he was fortunate to encounter one of the late vicar’s sons walking in the grounds. This, he stated, was Mr William Henry Farley whose address was given as Walton-on-the-Naze in Essex. His proximity to Suffolk may account for why he was the first of the family to arrive. He obviously had little of any importance to relate and so, somewhat surprisingly, directed the press representative to Mrs Farley herself.
Under the pretext of finding out the time of the funeral, he was ‘accorded a courteous reception’ by the widow. He found her ‘seated by the fire in one of the front rooms and her demeanour gave little indication of the terrible excitement she must lately have undergone.’ Describing the appearance of the house as gloomy in the extreme, he added the further touches that all the blinds in the house were drawn and the body still rested on chairs.
The reporter did not make clear if it was Harriet Louisa herself who was the source of the information that she had written to Arthur’s father on Sunday evening, even going to the length of sending the letter to be posted in Brandeston to make sure that it caught an earlier post than it would from Cretingham. This snippet was another example provided to show her behaviour not matching expectation. How could the ‘grieving widow’ find the strength to write to the father of her husband’s murderer? Was this not, the article seemed to imply, carrying Christian forgiveness just a bit too far? However, it allowed the reporter to impart other information, namely that Arthur had received a letter from his father who was expected to visit him at the police station on Wednesday.