Chapter 4
Ruled by the Moon Charles Maidment 1899
C harles Maidment was in love and the object of his affection, eighteen year old Dorcas Houghton, seemed to return that love. By the spring of 1899, the couple, who both lived in Sarisbury, had been seeing each other for some two years but then, on Tuesday, 18 April of that year, Dorcas dropped a bombshell on twenty-two year old Maidment.
Dorcas and Maidment met by arrangement early on the evening of 18 April and she informed him that she didn’t want their relationship to continue any longer. She would not walk out with him anymore and would see him the following evening so that she could return the presents he had given her. Charles tried to persuade Dorcas to stay with him, but she was not to be moved.
The presents Dorcas referred to were actually of little import. They consisted of nothing more than two handkerchiefs and a card Maidment had given to her the previous Christmas, written in affectionate terms. Maidment, however, suspected what was behind all this. Dorcas had mentioned another young man she had met, a marine artilleryman who was due to return home in May after serving his country overseas. It was obvious to the grief-stricken young man that Dorcas preferred the marine to him and would soon be walking out with him instead. A saddened Charles Maidment returned home that evening and brooded on his position, having arranged to meet Dorcas in Swanwick Lane the next day.
At 6.00pm on Wednesday, 19 April 1899, Dorcas left her home. She was seen going out by her mother, Augusta, who noticed that she was carrying two things: a book and a small brown-paper parcel. Augusta watched as Dorcas headed off towards Swanwick Lane. Augusta thought that perhaps she was going to visit her sister who lived over that way.
Henry Fielder was a letter-carrier or postman and part of his duties involved delivering mail in the area and emptying the postboxes each evening. It was for this latter reason that he walked past Manor Farm, to clear the box in Swanwick Lane. As Fielder strolled down the lane he noticed Maidment leaning over a gate near the farm. Maidment appeared to be in good spirits as he shouted: ‘Good evening Mr Fielder,’ and Henry returned the friendly greeting.
It was just as Henry Fielder was emptying the postbox that Dorcas came into view, walking down the lane towards where Maidment waited. Fielder saw that she carried a novel in her left hand, which she was reading as she walked. Underneath her arm, she carried a small parcel. Fielder nodded to her and continued with his duties.
The postbox was emptied and locked and Fielder turned to face up the lane, in the direction he had just come. As he turned he saw Dorcas and Maidment exchange a couple of words and then walk off together. In effect, Fielder was now following them up the hill.
The young couple were some distance in front of Fielder, with Maidment walking on the right side of his young lady. There was a curve in the road ahead and the couple vanished from Fielder’s sight as they passed around that bend. Seconds later, a loud report rang out, shattering the quiet of the country lane.
Even as Fielder puzzled over what the noise might have been he saw Maidment running back towards him. Then, just as suddenly, Maidment changed direction and headed off over a field. Concerned that something might have happened to Dorcas, Fielder ran to the top of the hill and turned the curve in the lane. There, to his horror, he found Dorcas Houghton quite dead, a single bullet wound underneath her right ear. Further, there were clear signs of burning and scorching around the wound showing that the gun used to kill her must have been held quite close to her head.
The shot, heard by Fielder, had also been heard by others. Edward Knapp lived with his father in Swanwick Lane and was in a field adjoining the lane when he heard a loud bang. Turning in the direction the noise had come from, Edward saw Charles Maidment running across the field towards him. Edward knew Maidment well and shouted: ‘Hello Charlie, what’s up?’ Maidment did not reply directly to the question but muttered something about needing to find the footpath. Edward pointed out that there was no footpath nearby but before any other words could be exchanged, Edward’s father was calling out for him, from the direction of Swanwick Lane. Edward headed off over the field to see what the problem was. He found his father and Mr Fielder standing over the body of Dorcas Houghton and was told to run off and get some help.
Police Constable H W Smith was on plain-clothes duty in Osborne Road, Fareham when, at 8.15pm, a young man approached the nearby police station. Constable Smith watched with interest as the young man hesitated for a few minutes and then drew a revolver out of his pocket. Smith did not hesitate. He marched across to the man, and bravely took the gun from him.
‘You had better keep me here,’ said the man. By this time, Constable Smith had heard about the shooting in Sarisbury so asked the man if his name was Maidment. The man gave the one word reply: ‘Yes.’ He was then arrested and taken in to the station where, after being searched and interviewed he was charged with wilful murder.
There could be no doubt that Maidment was responsible for the death of Dorcas Houghton. The couple had been seen together just before the shot was fired, Maidment had been seen fleeing the scene, he had the murder weapon with him when he was arrested by Constable Smith and, after being interviewed, had made a full statement admitting that he had shot her. The only defence open to him at his trial would therefore be one of insanity.
That trial opened on 27 June 1899, before Mr Justice Wright. The prosecution was led by Mr C T Giles, assisted by Mr Hunt whilst Maidment’s defence rested in the hands of Mr Clavell Salter.
The post-mortem on Dorcas, had been carried out by Dr Cade. He reported a single wound, behind the right ear. He was also able to tell the court that he had previously attended to the accused, Maidment, in November 1898. It appeared that Maidment had purchased the revolver some time before and on 19 November, he had accidentally shot himself, injuring a finger on his right hand. Dr Cade had treated Maidment until 17 December and during his various visits had found him silent and morose.
John Tucker, a fruit-grower, told the court that he was the prisoner’s uncle. Maidment had lived with him for the past two years. After giving details of the wound, which Maidment had accidentally inflicted upon himself in November, he turned to the day of Dorcas’ death.
On that morning he had last seen his nephew at around 5.40am. He had been very quiet and somewhat strange the previous evening and it was clear that he had something on his mind. In his opinion, Maidment had always been ‘not quite there’ and he had often described him as being ‘ruled by the moon’, a reference to the idea of mental instability being governed by the cycles of the moon.
More evidence as to Maidment’s possible mental condition was given by Thomas Cuff, his grandfather. He reported that his wife’s first cousin was in the Dorset County asylum after attacking his wife with a knife. Another cousin, Samuel Hopkins, had died in the Fisherton asylum. His own son, also Samuel, was in the Charminster asylum and his daughter, Harriett, had suffered from fits all her life. In short, there was the taint of insanity in his family spanning no less than three generations.
Thomas went on to say that Maidment had lived with him until two years ago when he had moved in with John Tucker. His behaviour was always strange. He would scream at night, say he was going fishing and try to climb out of the window. On other occasions he would simply sit in a corner crying and sweating profusely.
Much of this testimony was confirmed by Dr Brown who had been a medical officer in an asylum and had a great deal of experience in treating the mentally ill. Prior to the trial, on 18 June, Dr Brown had examined Maidment in prison. He declared that the prisoner did not have a normal or healthy mind and showed certain homicidal tendencies.
Unfortunately, the prosecution called Dr T P Richards, the medical officer at Winchester prison. He confirmed that Maidment was admitted to the jail on 20 April and he had kept him under observation ever since. In Dr Richards’ opinion, Maidment was certainly depressed but that was common in any prisoner facing such a serious charge. There was no si
gn or symptom of insanity.
Despite all the evidence as to Maidment’s mental problems, the jury still took just ten minutes to decide that he was guilty as charged. Maidment was then sentenced to death and the date for his execution was set.
There may well have been some Home Office disquiet over the possibility that the condemned man was suffering from mental impairment for two medical gentlemen, Dr Brayne and Dr Nicholson, were then sent to Winchester to examine Maidment. They visited him over two days, 6–7 July and submitted their report to the Home Office on 8 July. The basic conclusion of that report was that Maidment was of low intellect and had a somewhat boyish appearance but he was not of unsound mind.
The telegram sent to the Home Office, stating that the execution of Charles Maidment had been carried out satisfactorily.
That report, sealed the fate of Charles Maidment. Less than two weeks later, on Tuesday 18 July 1899, he was hanged at Winchester by James Billington as a large crowd gathered outside the prison.
Chapter 5
The Demon Drink Augustus John Penny 1913
In the year 1898, Augustus John Penny joined the Royal Navy as a stoker. He would serve his country in this way until 1911, forming part of the crew of ships such as the Victory II, the Barham, the Duke of Wellington and the Drake. In all that time, Penny was only ever in trouble on a couple of occasions and always for relatively minor offences.
The same could not be said for Penny’s mother. Mary Matilda Light had married George Penny when she was twenty-two and very soon afterwards she became addicted to drink. Between 1895 and 1901, she had no less than eight convictions recorded against her, all at Lyndhurst. Of these eight offences, five were for drunkenness, one for using obscene language, and one for common assault. The remaining conviction was for cruelty to her son, Augustus.
It had come to the notice of the authorities that Mary Penny had assaulted her son on 15 November 1896. Both parents were summonsed to appear in court to answer that charge, even though the father, George, had moved out of the house in 1893. In the course of the investigation, officers visited their home at Pollard’s Moor, Copythorne. They found the children badly nourished, the floors awash with grease and the house in a generally filthy condition. The stench, it was said, was unbearable and the investigators had to leave the house in order to gulp down some fresh air. In the event, after the evidence had been heard, George Penny was found not guilty but Matilda was convicted and fined. She was also ordered to clean the house up as a matter of urgency. It was hardly surprising then, that Augustus Penny should seek a life away from his mother, her mistreatment of him, her love of drink and the filthy home he had known.
When Augustus Penny left the Navy, however, he had little choice but to return to his mother’s house in Copythorne. From 1911 onwards, there were thus three people living in a somewhat cleaner cottage: Augustus, his mother Matilda and his brother, George Henry. The three operated the farm and the two brothers worked as labourers for their mother.
Matilda, however, had little real interest in the farm and preferred to spend her time drinking. It was perhaps to raise extra cash to fund that habit that, in January 1913, Matilda drew up a document letting all of her land to George, in return for the sum of £12 a year. There was no mention of her other son and naturally this angered Augustus. He made no secret of his disappointment and anger but there was nothing to be done. The deal had been signed but it did nothing to make for a happy household.
On the morning of Sunday, 22 June 1913, George Henry Penny rose from his bed just before 6.00am. At that time his brother was not in the house but he returned soon afterwards and they sat down to eat breakfast together at 8.00am. Three hours later, at 11.00am, George left the house and did not return until 6.00pm. At that time, Matilda asked him to give her sixpence so she could buy some stout. George gave her the money and, soon afterwards, left the house again. He did not return for the night until 11.00pm, by which time it was quite dark.
Without lighting either a lamp or a candle, George made his way to his bed. In order to reach his bedroom he needed to pass through the one occupied by his mother. He crept through very quietly so as not to wake her and as he walked through, he could see the shape of her body in her bed. George’s room was now to the left whilst his brother’s was to the right. The door to Augustus’ room was open and George could see him lying on his bed repeating over and over just two words: ‘Oh dear!’ George thought nothing of it and retired for the night.
On Monday, 23 June, George rose somewhat earlier, at 5.30am. Once again, Augustus seemed to be already out of the house and, as he passed through his mother’s bedroom, George discovered why this might be. His mother lay dead in her bed, an empty quart bottle on the floor nearby. This was not, however, a case of too much drink, for Matilda had been shot and her blood and brains were spread along the walls and ceiling. George ran off to get help.
The church in the village of Copythorne at the time Augustus Penny shot his mother to death.
By 6.00am, Constable Sydney Joyce was at the cottage. He noted that Matilda lay on her right side with her head resting close to her arm. Seeing that nothing was disturbed, Joyce sent for Superintendent Wakefield and the doctor and then went in search of Augustus Penny.
Some 430 yards away from the cottage, Constable Joyce found Augustus sitting down under a hedge. He was dripping wet and trembling with cold and fear. Joyce escorted his prisoner back to the scene of the shooting and watched as he changed into fresh clothing. Soon after this, Superintendent Wakefield arrived, took charge of Augustus and escorted him to the police station in a motor car.
Augustus readily admitted his guilt and made a full written statement outlining what had taken place at the cottage. That statement read: ‘On Sunday, about seven o’clock I took a quart bottle and went to the Compass. I had two pints of beer and took a quart bottle home to my mother. About eight-thirty I went upstairs. She was asleep. I woke her and we drank the quart of beer between us. I left the bottle by the side of the bed. She laid down and I went to my bedroom and got the gun and as I came through my mother’s bedroom she was lying on the bed. I held the gun up with the point towards my mother’s head and it went off.’
‘I had no idea the gun was loaded when the gun went off. I could see what I had done which frightened me. I ran out of the house with the gun and jumped in the stream and left the gun there.’
The suggestion was that whilst it had been extremely foolhardy to point a gun at someone, the actual shooting had been a terrible accident. Nevertheless, Augustus was charged with murder and began to make appearances before the magistrates and the coroner’s court.
It was after a brief appearance at the magistrates’ court that Augustus said that he wished to make another statement. He was, quite properly, cautioned and his new statement was then written down. In this second document, Augustus began: ‘Last Sunday I got up about four o’clock, took the gun I had borrowed from Cull on the Saturday night and went into our meadows to try to shoot pigeons. I could not get any but shot and wounded one, but did not find it.’
‘I returned home about seven o’clock and got the breakfast. My brother George returned about eight o’clock. I poured the tea and took some upstairs to my mother. Then me and George sat down and had breakfast together. George and me got the cabbage and potatoes ready and I put them in the pot.’
‘George left home about eleven o’clock. I then again went into the field as my mother was then downstairs, to look for the wounded pigeon, but could not find it. I returned home and Herbert Hunt came for George to shave him, but George was out and I shaved him.’
‘Me and my mother had dinner together and about two o’clock I went to the Coach at Cadmann and had two pints of beer. I left the Coach at two-thirty and returned home.’
‘About five o’clock, me and my mother had tea. About six o’clock George came in and had his tea. Mother asked him for some money to get some stout. He gave her sixpence. I said: ‘‘I have a bottle of sto
ut in the cupboard.’’ I got it and gave it to her.’
‘My brother left about quarter past six and I went to the Compass, had two pints of beer and took my mother back a quart of fives [a type of beer] in the bottle. I got back home about half past eight. Mother was in bed upstairs. I went up and asked her if she would take a drink. She said yes and we had the quart of beer between us.’
‘I then asked my mother if she was warm enough and she said: ‘‘Yes, but you can put the old coat on my feet’’ which I did. She then began abusing me and said: ‘‘If it was not for George I would not have a bite or a drop.’’ She also said that she would sell the hay when it was up and she and George would go away and I could go to the devil. I said: ‘‘For God’s sake, lie down and go to sleep’’ but she would not.’
‘She would not shut up and I lost my temper with her as she tormented me about George. I lost all control of myself, went to my bedroom, got the gun and before I could cool my temper I shot her in the head. She exasperated me so much. I lost all control of myself but I did not mean to kill her and I am very sorry for it now and I must put up with it.’
Augustus Penny finally appeared before Mister Justice Low, to face the charge of murder on Saturday, 8 November 1913. His defence rested in the hands of Mr Blake Ogden whilst the case for the Crown was led by Mr G W Ricketts, who was assisted by Mr E Duke. Amongst the early witnesses were those who could confirm Augustus Penny’s movements on the day of the shooting.
Bertie James Cull was the man who actually owned the gun used to shoot Matilda. He reported that on Saturday, 21 June, he had been drinking in the Horse and Groom at around 9.30pm. Augustus was also in the bar and asked Bertie if he might borrow his gun so that he could shoot some pigeons. Bertie said that he could have it the following morning but Augustus said that he’d rather have it that same night if it wasn’t too much trouble. As a result, they walked back to Bertie’s farm where the gun was kept in a cowshed. Bertie handed the weapon over but first checked that it wasn’t loaded. Finally, Bertie confirmed that he did not give Augustus any cartridges.
Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in Southampton Page 4