Derbyshire Murders
Page 4
A few minutes later, a group of six people who were celebrating a wedding and visiting the public houses in the Shambles, passed Platts’ shop; they were Thomas and Elizabeth Harvey, Thomas and Phoebe Bellamy, together with James Kirk and his sister-in-law, Ann Kirk. The group heard moans coming from inside the shop, followed by the sound of something apparently being dragged along the floor. Elizabeth shouted through the locked door, asking if everything was all right. Platts did not open the door but shouted back that he was alone and had been sick.
Those in the wedding party were aware that Platts had been courting a local young woman named Hannah, and initially they were worried that he might be beating her. Accordingly, Ann Kirk went to Hannah’s house which was nearby, to confirm that she was well, and the party moved on to the next public house, having satisfied themselves that Hannah was unharmed.
Later, at about 9.30 p.m., Platts entered Thomas Bellamy’s public house, which was opposite his shop. Several customers noticed that he had a freshly cut hand, which he explained was due to his having caught it on a hook in his shop. Mrs Bellamy offered to dress it for him, and as she did so, Thomas Harvey shouted over to him, ‘Jack, I could have sworn you had somebody in that shop’. Ann Kirk told Platts that she had called at Hannah’s home to ensure that she was well. His injured hand having been tended to, an annoyed Platts left but returned a few minutes later with Hannah, to prove to the other customers in the pub that she was well and had not been assaulted by him.
Later that night Platts called in at the Old Angel, which he usually visited each Sunday to spend time with the church bell-ringers after the final service of the day. The landlady, Catherine Frank, noticed his injured hand, and when asked about it he gave the same explanation he had given earlier. He also told her that he had decided to visit Mansfield to enter a raffle for a watch, which would prove to be highly significant in later months when the investigation into the murder of George Collis was underway.
The police heard further interesting information from John Heathcote. On the night of Monday, 8 December, he had arranged to meet his brother, Godfrey, at the Peacock Inn in the Shambles. At ten o’clock, the two brothers saw Platts, Morley and a third man they did not recognise, carrying a heavy sack. They were making their way from Platts’ shop, and the Heathcotes presumed the sack was full of offal, which the three men were going to dispose of. The three men stopped several times to rest, suggesting that the contents of the sack were heavy. They eventually reached the entrance to Bunting’s yard, which they turned into.
After a few days, a number of people approached Platts to enquire about his business partner’s whereabouts. Thomas Harvey actually told friends that he believed Platts had murdered George, and he approached Platts demanding to know what had happened to him. He was told that George had travelled to either Macclesfield or Manchester. Others were also suspicious and in June 1846, Platts was haymaking with Humphrey Belfit, who also asked after George. Platts assured him that he had seen him six weeks earlier in Manchester. When Humphrey persisted in asking more questions, Platts refused to discuss the matter further.
Following the discovery of the remains in Mr Bunting’s cesspit, and before they had been identified as being those of Collis, Platts was asked by a friend, Caroline Radmill, what he thought had happened to his former partner. In reply, Platts suggested that he might have killed himself, and explained that a few days before George’s disappearance he had come across the deceased, who was alone and holding a razor to his throat. Platts alleged that George told him he had been contemplating suicide for some time.
Of the three men seen carrying the heavy sack into Mr Bunting’s yard on the night that George Collis disappeared, one remained unidentified, and another, Morley, had since died of typhus. The police believed they had gathered sufficient information to focus their attention on John Platts, and on 3 September he was interviewed by Inspector Charles Cotterill. Platts insisted that he had not been involved in the killing of George Collis, and stated that he had last seen him on Saturday, 6 December at Platts’ market stall. George had asked if he could borrow £2 10s, to which Platts agreed. Platts denied owing money to his partner, and insisted that George owed him £9. The two of them had arranged to meet on the following day, but George had not kept the appointment. As for his own movements on the day of the disappearance, Platts told the inspector that he had been in the Old Angel public house between the hours of six and eleven that night.
This did not satisfy the police, and on the following day a search was made of the suspect’s house. A watch was found together with a pair of boots, which the police were convinced belonged to the dead man. Platts advised them that he had bought the watch off William Beaumont, who was also known as ‘Lanky Bill’, a local criminal who lived with two prostitutes. When questioned by the police later, Beaumont denied having ever possessed the watch, and a Chesterfield watchmaker, John Thompson, identified it as one he had sold to George Collis on 29 December 1839. The boots were also found to have belonged to George Collis, for whom a local cobbler, Mr Shore, confirmed he had made them.
To add to his problems, the landlord and landlady of the Old Angel did not support Platt’s alibi. This, when viewed with his inability to explain how the watch and boots came to be in his possession, led to Platts being arrested and charged with murder. His trial took place at the Derby Assizes on Friday, 19 March 1847 before Mr Justice Patterson, in a packed courtroom. The prosecution was led by Mr Humphrey QC, assisted by Mr Mellor, and the accused was represented by Mr McCauley and Mr W.H. Adams.
There were no witnesses to the crime, and no murder weapon had been identified, but the prosecution believed that they had a strong case and would be able to persuade the jury of the prisoner’s guilt. They called as witnesses those who had been present at the events of the relevant Sunday and Monday nights. The prosecution cast doubt on Platts’ alibi for the night of the disappearance; Lanky Bill was called to testify that the watch had never been in his possession, and proof that the boots had been made for the deceased was provided. The prosecution advised the jury that it was not necessary to provide a motive for the crime, but it was believed that the accused owed the dead man money, which he had simply decided not to repay, and to avoid doing so he had opted to murder George.
The prosecution’s case was that the victim was either killed or incapacitated in Morley’s shop, before being taken to Platts’ premises, where, if not already dead, he was murdered and his body dismembered. On the following night the body parts were placed in a sack and taken to the cesspit, into which it was thrown by the accused and his two fellow conspirators. Mr Humphrey claimed that the combined testimonies of the witnesses proved that Platts was one of the three men involved in this dreadful crime.
The defence relied on attempting to discredit the prosecution witnesses, and on character witnesses which they called to testify on their client’s behalf. John and Godfrey Healthcare were accused of making up their respective testimonies from newspaper accounts; Catherine Franks who testified that the accused had not spent the whole night of the murder in the Old Angel, was described as having confused that night with another; the defence claimed it was too dark for Samuel Slack to have seen the events he described; and Thomas Harvey was accused of being drunk on the night in question and was thus an unreliable witness. It was Lanky Bill, however, who came in for the most scathing criticism. He had served several prison sentences, and Mr McCauley suggested that he was in fact one of the murderers and was attempting to lay the blame on an innocent man so that he might escape justice.
Mr McCauley next called two character witnesses. The first was Robert Statham, a butcher who had employed the accused for several years, and Revd Holden, both of whom described a mild-mannered and honest young man, whom they believed incapable of committing such a crime. In his final address to the jury, Mr McCauley claimed that there was no real proof that George Collis was dead or that the body in the cesspit was his. Furthermore, there was no conclusive
proof that the sack being carried by the three men contained a body. Nor, he contended, had the Crown produced any evidence that his client owed George Collis any money.
In his summing up, the judge highlighted the absence of any direct evidence linking the accused to the murder, and it would be for the jury to decide whether or not he was implicated in any crime. The jury members remained in their seats and, having conferred for two minutes, returned a guilty verdict. Sentencing him to death, the judge warned Platts not to expect a reprieve.
In his final days, Platts wrote two letters, one to his mother and the other to Mr Statham, thanking him for his support at the trial. He also left a written confession in which he attempted to minimise his own involvement in the crime. He acknowledged that he did participate, and implicated Morley and the other unnamed man. It was they, he claimed, who planned the crime, and he insisted that he did not personally strike the victim, nor did he assist in the dismemberment of the body.
Platts was hanged at noon on Thursday, 1 April 1847, outside the walls of Derby Gaol. There were several thousand spectators, many of whom had travelled from Chesterfield by special excursion trains. The condemned man spent much of the morning in the chapel, until, at 11.50 a.m., the bell tolled, signifying the execution was to take place. He made his way to the gallows with a firm step, but when he stepped on to the drop his legs began to shake violently. The drop opened and after struggling for two minutes, Platts was pronounced dead. After the formalities of the inquest on his body had been completed, he was, in accordance with tradition, buried within the gaol’s walls.
4
MURDERED FOR AN INHERITANCE
Ilkeston, 1861
It was the spring of 1861, and Joseph Smith, a forty-six-year-old successful shoemaker, was living on Bath Street, Ilkeston, in one of a row of four cottages, all of which he owned. Joseph shared his home with his three sons, thirteen-year-old Edwin, sixteen-year-old Henry, and George, who was twenty. Henry and his father shared one bedroom, and George and Edwin shared another. Edwin was still attending school, Henry worked alongside his father in the family business, and George was employed as a lace maker with Messrs Ball & Co. of Ilkeston. Joseph’s married daughter, Sarah, lived next door with her husband Aaron Aldred.
George was a feckless individual, with a reputation for womanising and irresponsible behaviour. Two women were reportedly pregnant by him at the time, and he planned to marry one of them, Ellen Cox, at Whitsuntide. This was against the wishes of his father, and this opposition to his relationship with his fiancée was placing additional stress on the already strained relationship between father and son.
Joseph had been widowed for seven years, and although he had remarried in 1859, he and his second wife had separated. Following his first wife’s death he had suffered periods of depression and had turned to alcohol to alleviate the pain of his loss. On more than one occasion he had appeared in front of his children holding an open razor, threatening to kill himself and the whole family. However, it had been more than a year since such an incident had occurred.
Monday, 1 May began like most other days. The family ate breakfast together, after which Joseph and Henry left for work, at seven o’clock. However, George had arranged to change shifts with a friend, Reuben Davis, and would not be going to work. Unbeknown to his father, George had taken Joseph’s bank-book, and had decided to travel to Nottingham where his father had an account containing £144 with the Nottingham Savings Bank, to withdraw some of the money.
As he walked to the station, George met a friend, Henry Davis, and asked if he wanted to travel to Nottingham with him. Henry had no money, but agreed to go when George said he would pay his fare, and the pair took the eleven o’clock train. In the days that followed, the police were able to trace George’s movements that day from a number of witnesses.
Henry told them that on arrival in Nottingham, George went to the bank, where John Stevenson dealt with him. George produced his father’s bank-book and asked to withdraw £14. However, he was told that it would not be possible, as before he could withdraw any cash he would need to produce a letter signed by his father allowing him to do so.
Henry had not realised that George had his father’s bank-book until he met him later at the wine and spirits vault owned by John Bridger, who knew Joseph Smith. George agreed a loan of £1 with John, after offering to leave the bank-book as security and promising to return the following day to repay the loan.
At midday, George and Henry walked to the Tom Moody public house, where George met prostitute Elizabeth Meakin, who had known him for ten months. She told the police that she sat with the two men for fifteen minutes before George said he was going to visit a nearby shop. He left them three pence with which to purchase drinks, and returned some time later. He showed them a pocketbook and a pair of boots he had just purchased, but it was his other purchases which would later interest the police.
George had visited David Webster’s pawn shop on Clumber Street, where, after examining several weapons, he bought a pistol costing 4s. As Mr Webster did not sell powder and shot, he directed George to the shop of Eliza Carr, which was directly opposite his own. Later, when questioned by the police, she would have no difficulty remembering him, in view of his antics in her shop. He bought a halfpenny worth of caps, took out his pistol and placed one in it, telling the shopkeeper, ‘I want it to fit very well’. He was about to pull the trigger, but Mrs Carr prevented him from firing it in the shop, so he went outside and did so. Before leaving he paid one penny for a small amount of powder.
Having returned to the Tom Moody pub, it was agreed that Henry should wait there while George went with Elizabeth to her house in Bell Yard. There, he showed her the pistol, but said he did not want Henry to know he had bought it. She asked George why he wanted the weapon, to which he replied, ‘I want to shoot with it at night.’ When she told him, ‘You may do some harm with that’, he replied, ‘I shall do no one no harm that does me none, but I would shoot my own father if he was to offend me.’ They returned to the Tom Moody and after a few more drinks, George and Henry took the evening train to Ilkeston, where they arrived at 7.30 p.m.
George and Henry parted at the railway station, but a few minutes later George met his friend’s brother, Reuben Davis. Reuben asked George to lend him sixpence so that he could buy some shot and powder from Mr Chadwick’s shop, as he wished to shoot some wood pigeons. George agreed to do so, and also gave him six caps. It was now eight o’clock, and George decided to go home for some bread and cheese, but the two young men arranged to meet later at the Queen’s Head public house.
However, it would emerge later that before going to meet Reuben, George approached an eight-year-old girl, Martha Cockayne, and asked her to purchase one pennyworth of shot from Isaac Gregory’s shop, and this was later confirmed by the shopkeeper when he was visited by the police.
George met Reuben as they had arranged, but left at ten o’clock, saying he would return soon. When he did so, he told Reuben, ‘As soon as I got home, my father ran into the pantry’. Reuben asked why he should have done such a thing, to which George replied, ‘I don’t know why, but I believe my father will make away with himself before long, he seems so uneasy.’ They parted company at a few minutes to midnight.
Earlier that evening Joseph and Henry had finished work, and the older man visited his brother Samuel, at whose house he arrived at nine o’clock. Samuel later advised the police that his brother stayed for about thirty minutes and had appeared to be in good spirits.
Henry visited the home of a friend, Edwin Dakin, where he stayed for two hours. He arrived home at 10.15 p.m. to find his father still dressed and lying on the sofa. Edwin arrived home a few minutes later. Henry asked if George had been home, to which his father replied that he had called at the house briefly before going out again. The two boys and their father ate a supper of bread and milk together, after which Joseph told his sons to go to bed. This was at 11.40 p.m. and both boys later told the police that the
ir father seemed well and that he had not been drinking. Joseph told his sons that he would smoke his pipe for a few minutes before going to bed. A short time later, he climbed into bed next to Henry, but ten minutes later he got out and went downstairs. A few minutes later, Henry heard George enter the house.
Henry heard his father and brother begin to argue almost immediately, and he heard his father shout ‘George, you see what trouble you have brought yourself into. I shall not leave my door undone for you any longer, and if you cannot keep proper hours you will have to go somewhere else.’ George made no reply, and Joseph told him to go to bed. However, this was followed by what Henry recognised to be a gunshot.
Bath Street, Ilkeston. (Author’s collection)
Henry was joined in his room by Edwin, who had also heard the shot, and the two terrified boys went to the bedroom window, which they opened. The boys seemed to have realised instinctively what had occurred and, being frightened that George might decide to kill them next, they screamed for help. Their cries of ‘Murder! Murder!’ were heard by their sister next door.
She hurried outside to be told by the boys, who were leaning out of the window, ‘George has killed our father, do come!’ She rushed into the house alone, where she found her father’s body, but there was no sign of George. Although overcome with horror, she still had the presence of mind to check for signs of life. However, there were none and she went for her husband, Aaron, but he was already on his way, having heard his wife’s screams. Aaron’s brother Isaac, who also lived on the row of houses on Bath Street, had also heard the shot and screams. He ran to the house and, with his brother, made sure that Henry and Edwin were safe.