by Neil Storey
The jury retired to consider their verdict. On their return, the foreman declared: ‘We find that the deceased was wilfully murdered by some person or persons unknown, and we wish to say that we think the police did their duty in detaining Sadler.’
The police had made their enquiries; reading their reports they were sure they had the right man but simply did not have witnesses, evidence, murder weapon or forensics to provide proof of his guilt. The lack of mutilation and the method of throat cutting does not evince this as a Jack the Ripper crime – even if he was interrupted – but it is true to say that many officers involved in the case, particularly the beat policemen, really did believe they were on the trail of Jack the Ripper. Tales of their exploits have no doubt entered family legend over the years – and to be honest, we can never know with absolute certainty that they were not correct in their assumption.
As a postscript it may be of interest to note that the murder of Frances Coles is the last case included in the extant police and Home Office files concerning the Jack the Ripper murders. These records continue to 1892/3, where they record a complaint of assault and threats to kill made by Sadler against his wife Sarah. So acute was her fear that she was ‘afraid to live with him any longer.’ Both Mrs Sadler and her lodger, Naval pensioner Mr Moffatt, describe Sadler, curiously, as ‘a most violent, subtle and treacherous man.’ The final report in the file records Sadler was bound on his recognisance to keep the peace towards his wife for six months ‘and the wife appears to desire that he should still remain under some surveillance.’
6
THE WHITECHAPEL
NEWSPAPER SHOP
MURDER
Conrad Donovan & Charles Wade, 1904
Miss Matilda Emily Farmer lived a quiet life running her small newsagent and tobacconist shop, which she lived above at 478 Commercial Road, Whitechapel. She was 63 years old, but looked younger. She was also considered by some to be rather eccentric because she would never allow anyone but family into the upstairs portion of her house; coupled with her usual neat appearance and habit of wearing gold pince-nez, three gold rings (one with four diamonds) on one finger, two bracelets and a gold watch chain around her neck, it was rumoured she ‘had money’, and because she did not allow anyone upstairs it was thought by some that she probably kept a large sum of money on the premises. Miss Farmer was also a creature of habit. You could almost set your watch by her routine of going down into her shop every morning between 5.45 a.m. and 6 a.m. to receive the boy who delivered the daily newspapers, after which she would see to it they were all neatly folded and ready for distribution to her customers; then she would go into the parlour at the back of the shop where she would prepare and eat her breakfast. At about 6.30 a.m. Harry Wiggins (11), the errand boy, would arrive and take down the shop shutters and then busy himself delivering the newspapers.
The morning of Wednesday 12 October 1904 began a little misty and the chill touched the boy who brought the papers to Miss Farmer. By the time Wiggins arrived at 6.30 a.m. the day was already brightening, but there was no sign of Miss Farmer. He carried on with his tasks and served customers until about 7.30 a.m. – when he noticed her false teeth, a soda-water bottle and tumbler on the floor. He mentioned what he had seen, and raised his concerns about Miss Farmer not being around, to another lad, who told Miss Baker, a neighbouring shopkeeper – who in turn brought the matter to the attention of a policeman (PC 141H). Upon investigation the officer found the false teeth and a boot on the floor of the shop near the counter. Passing through the counter area and proceeding up the stairs, he found a broken portion of a pair of spectacles. He was followed by Miss Baker.
The police officer’s worst fears were confirmed as he entered the upstairs front room, where he discovered the body of Miss Farmer lying at the foot of her bed. Her hands had been tied behind her back and she had been gagged with a towel forced into her mouth and tied in place with another cloth. The constable immediately removed the gag, and cut her hands free, while Miss Baker helped him lay her on the bed and unfasten her dress and corsets. Miss Baker and the constable felt Miss Farmer’s heart and believed they felt a faint heartbeat. The Divisional Surgeon, Dr Charles Graham Grant, who lived almost opposite the shop, was rapidly summoned to the scene, but Miss Farmer’s heart had stopped before he got there and immediately upon his initial examination he declared life extinct. (At the trial, Dr Grant stated he did not think Miss Farmer was alive when the police officer thought he felt her heartbeat: for anyone without formal medical training such a mistake was a ‘common thing’. This view was endorsed by Mr Pepper, the surgeon called as an expert witness at the trial.) Further examination revealed that more than one person must have been involved in tying Miss Farmer’s hands behind her back. She had suffocated as a result of the gag forced into her mouth. From the appearance of the body, there had not been a struggle.
Soon on the scene were Superintendent J. Mulvaney, Detective Inspector T. Divall, Sub-Divisional Inspector A. Holland and Detective Sergeant Wensley. They too agreed Miss Farmer had died without a struggle, but the jewellery she was known to wear was missing, as was a small tin she used for her takings. Her drawers had been tipped out over the floor and it was clear the room had been ransacked as the robbers searched for further hidden money or valuables.
As soon as the papers filled with news of this crime, a man walked into a police station at Worthing. His name was James Pitzpatrick (31), a billiard marker of no fixed abode, and he confessed to the crime, giving a full statement to Sergeant Dean. It might seem like an open-and-shut case, but any experienced police officer will tell you, even today, that once a murder gets media coverage, the false confessions will start coming in. When Fitzpatrick’s statement was compared to the facts known to the police (and a short investigation of Fitzpatrick’s whereabouts on the dates in question revealed he had been admitted to the Brighton Infirmary on 10 October and only discharged at 8 a.m. on the morning of the murder), the police knew he was lying. Fitzpatrick was brought before Thames Magistrates, where he formally retracted his confession, claiming, ‘I was destitute and wished to get back at my friends at Whitechapel.’ Perhaps the homeless man was hoping to get accommodation courtesy of Her Majesty through the cold winter for making a false statement, but no such quarter was given and Mr Mead, the magistrate, discharged Fitzpatrick.
The detectives, however, were not quite back to square one as a genuine key witness had came forward, namely Robert Rae (18), a fishmonger of Old Church Road, Stepney. He had known a certain Conrad Donovan (34) (real name Joseph Potten or Potter) when Donovan lived almost opposite where Rae worked. Rae had not seen Donovan for a while, but on the morning of 12 October, after being on night work, he stopped at Gosling’s Coffee Shop on Commercial Road (where he stayed for about ten minutes) before walking up the road to Miss Farmer’s shop (which was almost opposite Old Church Road), arriving there about 6.30 a.m. A man Rae had seen with Donovan in the past (later identified as Charles Wade (22), Donovan’s half-brother) came out of Farmer’s (apparently closed) shop with a newspaper in his hand, closely followed by Donovan, who also had a newspaper in his hands. Rae thought it curious that both men hurried out of the shop leaving the door open. He also noticed there was no light on inside.
Donovan and Wade then strolled on across the road and stopped, Donovan apparently pointing something out to Wade in the paper, but Rae did not hear them speak. The two men then walked as far as Stepney Temple, where they stopped again for a few seconds. Donovan then made some motion with his hands and they walked on again in the direction of Poplar. A short while later, Rae saw the shop boy arrive and begin to take the shutters off – no one had gone in or out of the shop in the meantime.
Rae was concerned: he met a couple of acquaintances on his way home and mentioned what he had seen, but he was tired after his long shift and, as he stated at the inquest, he feared violent repercussions from Donovan or his associates if he reported his concerns of a robbery to the police. Instead, he we
nt home to bed. Rae woke again at 10 a.m., when he learned from his mother (with whom he lived) that there had, in fact, been a murder in the newspaper shop on Commerical Road. Rae immediately told her what he had seen and the following day Detective Inspector Divall and Sergeant Wensley called to see him to take his statement. By the following Sunday the police had successfully tracked down and apprehended Donovan and Wade (arrested on 16 October) and Rae was brought to Arbour Square police station, where he successfully picked out both suspects from a line-up of twelve men.
Conrad Donovan, who gave his occupation as a sailor of Church Road, Limehouse, and his half-brother Charles Wade, a labourer residing at Grosvenor Street, Ratcliff, were charged on remand at Thames Police Court on Tuesday 25 October 1904. Wade and Donovan were brought before Mr Justice Grantham at the Central Criminal Court on 18 November 1904. Mr Charles Matthews and Mr Arthur Gill acted for the prosecution and Mr Percival Hughes, Mr Paul Methven and Mr Gathorne Harvey for the defence. In the light of the evidence presented so far – and with a Mr Richard Barnes (26), a painter residing in Stepney Causeway, coming forward to say that he saw Wade with ‘another man’ (both of whom he identified in a line up with twelve other men at Brixton Prison) crossing Commercial Road on the morning of the murder, heading in the direction of Miss Farmer’s shop) – the defence were going to have a thankless task. After a few questions examining the state of the witnesses’ eyesight and the light on the morning in question, they could do little to damage the credibility of the witnesses.
On the second day of the trial Barnes continued his testimony, revealing he had also seen Wade on the night before the murder. Between 10 p.m. and 11 p.m. on 11 October, Barnes had been coming out of Stepney Causeway towards Dorset Street when he saw Wade and another man (whom he identified as Donovan) talking ‘about 6 yards from Miss Farmer’s shop.’ On the morning of the murder Barnes was on his way to a coffee shop on Commercial Road when he spotted Wade and Donovan crossing the road. He recalled arriving at the coffee shop at about 6.03 a.m. After about three quarters of an hour he left the coffee shop, went home and then proceeded to the Friend’s Institute at the corner of Dorset Street, where he was working. Shortly before he arrived at the institute, just before 8 a.m., he passed Miss Farmer’s shop and saw a group of people outside the shop and a policeman going inside. Within minutes he heard the news that Miss Farmer had been murdered. It didn’t take much to put two and two together: Donovan and Wade were both known as violent men in their own right. Barnes ‘thought it was an extraordinary thing to see Wade standing in Commercial Road in the morning after seeing him there on the night before.’
When asked why he had not come forward sooner, it transpired that – like Rae – Barnes was also afraid of possible reprisals. He stated he was ‘forbidden by his parents to say anything.’ His mother was suffering from heart disease and she forbade him to say anything about it, ‘because his father was robbed and beaten three years ago in Dorset Street and she was afraid that persons would do it again as it was such a rough neighbourhood.’ however, realising how important his testimony would be (and being a Sunday school teacher), despite his parent’s fears, he finally decided to come forward.
On 21 November, the final day of the hearing, Mr Matthews for the prosecution summed up the facts and admitted that none of the stolen goods were found in the possession of the accused. Though this was an important point for the defence, the men, he said, could easily have got rid of the stolen goods and, most importantly, the witnesses placed both men at the scene at the relevant times. Percival Hughes for the defence delivered his address to the jury over several hours and suggested the evidence against the accused was weak. He contended the prosecution had failed to prove that Donovan and Wade were the persons who committed the crime – and questioned the positive identification of the accused by the witnesses by alluding to and attempting to capitalise on the recent case of Adolf Beck. Beck had been arrested, tried and convicted after female victims of fraud wrongly identified him in the street as the perpetrator. When the real guilty party, another man named Wilhelm Meyer – who bore a remarkable likeness to Beck – was caught for ‘Beck’-style frauds, the case was blown open. Beck was finally pardoned and freed with compensation on 27 July 1904.
The question of identity and the relevance of the Beck case were also dealt with by Mr Justice Grantham in his summing up. He qualified his satisfaction with the standard of testimony: ‘In this case it was a very different class of evidence, as the witnesses who had identified the prisoners were persons who had known them.’
The jury then retired to deliberate, and after only ten minutes returned a verdict of ‘guilty’ against both prisoners. When asked by the Clerk of Arraigns if they had anything to say as to why sentence of death should not be passed upon them, Donovan and Wade made no reply.
Justice Grantham donned the black cap; before he passed sentence he commented that he was not surprised the prisoners were in this situation, knowing something as he did of their lives – both had previous convictions and had served custodial sentences for violence and robbery. He expressed sadness that Wade, the younger man, had been corrupted by Donovan, but none the less concluded, ‘It was a fortunate thing for society that the persons had been caught and were going to meet the doom for the crime of which they had been convicted, and which was committed for the sake of gain.’ His lordship then passed the death sentence upon both men, who both received it with ‘utmost sangfroid.’
As the prisoners were taken down, someone in the public gallery shouted, ‘Cheer up!’ Wade managed to lean over the dock and, after issuing an expletive, snarled at one of the detectives, ‘If I could get at you I would settle you in two seconds.’ The prisoners were then removed from the dock and taken to Pentonville Prison.
Just eight days before the pair were due to hang, workmen repairing the house where the murder was committed found Miss Farmer’s jewellery under some floorboards. Questions were raised, but in the final analysis this discovery only gave another reason why the police failed to discover any of the stolen property on Donovan or Wade – they simply had not got away with it in the first place.
On Tuesday 13 December 1904, executioner William Billington, assisted by Henry Pierrepoint (father of Albert Pierrepoint), executed Donovan and Wade. In an official announcement by the Under-Sheriff, Mr F.K. Metcalfe, death, in both cases, was recorded as ‘Instantaneous.’ Wade left no final words, but in a statement to the prison chaplain, Donovan said, ‘No murder was intended.’
7
BLOOD ON THE
STREETS
The Tottenham Outrage, the Houndsditch Murders & the Siege of Sydney Street
The East End of London has always been a refuge for immigrants, some of them genuinely fleeing oppression or persecution because of their race or creed, while others use this cover to flee the law. Quite how (or if) all three of the following cases were really connected may never be discovered, but the press in the early twentieth century seemed set on finding a link between them and popular fears about anarchist plots to overthrow law and order and government, and perhaps, dared they even moot, a threat to our own monarchy – at least they gave column space to publish the letters of those who would suggest such fears. Some were blatantly xenophobic.
All we can say with some certainty is that all of those involved in these crimes were immigrants from Central Europe, while some certainly had criminal records in the countries they had fled from and quite probably saw the anarchist movements as a vehicle for their criminal plans; some had strong political beliefs, and there appeared to be a core of Lithuanian men and women involved in the crimes who had banded together to form the ‘Leesma’ or ‘Flame’ group of Lettish anarchists, who allied themselves with Lettish Socialistic Revolutionary Party – though it must be said that all revolutionary parties vehemently distanced themselves from these criminal actions. Above all, those who carried out the crimes were armed with pistols and copious amounts of ammunition and were not afraid of us
ing them. For the first time serious armed pursuits – using what were, in those days, modern vehicles and weaponry – took place in the capital and blood ran on the streets.
Our story begins in Tottenham, north-east London, on Saturday 23 January 1909, and a failed attempt at a wages snatch at Schnurmann’s rubber factory on Chestnut Road. Just across the road from the factory was Tottenham police station and when shots were heard the police ran to investigate. Despite struggling with the robbers and being fired upon at close range, by some miracle, Albert Keyworth (17), the office boy who carried the wages, and Joseph Wilson (29), the chauffeur who drove the boy to and from the bank, were uninjured, though the driver’s coat was peppered with shot and a bullet grazed across his stomach, which cut through everything – including his vest – save the man himself.
The two robbers, having successfully wrestled away the wages bag, ran from the scene down Chestnut Road. Police were soon in hot pursuit, with more off-duty officers joining in, piling out of the nearby section house. Passers-by pointed them in the direction of the fleeing robbers: some even bravely ran after them. George Smith, a burly stoker, brought one of the men down with a flying tackle. The other man pointed the gun at Smith, firing four times at his head. Smith was also incredibly lucky: the shots grazed his scalp, and another caught him on the flesh of his collar bone. Smith was pushed off and the robbers picked up the wages sack again and took to their heels, with police officers now closing in on them. The men ran through terraced streets, fending off police officers with shots from their pistols if they got too close.