FDSD Islington

by John Eddleston

  Dr Martin had, by this time, performed a post-mortem on the dead man and he reported the rupture of a large blood vessel in the neck. In his opinion, the three or four blows to the neck area had damaged the carotid artery, causing a suffusion of blood into that area. This was the direct cause of death.

  William Payne was a close friend of James Wallis and had been with him at the time of the attack. He told the court that he and Wallis had been walking peacefully down Lower Road, when Madden suddenly appeared from around a corner. Without warning, and certainly without any provocation, Madden then struck Wallis three or four hard blows to the left of his neck. Wallis had not retaliated but had merely said: ‘Come into the fields and I will fight you.’ Almost as soon as he had spoken those words, he collapsed unconscious to the floor.

  Henry Hayes was another friend of Wallis and he was with him in Lower Road when the attack took place. Hayes was one of the men who helped William Payne carry the injured man to the doctor’s surgery.

  There could be little doubt that the blows inflicted by Madden were the direct cause of James Wallis’s death and the jury duly returned a guilty verdict. William Madden, who had actively sought revenge, and taken a man’s life in the process, was then given a sentence of six months in prison.

  Chapter 3

  Richard Gould

  1840

  If it can be said that a man might make himself a potential victim of murder, then such a man was, undoubtedly, John Templeman.

  John lived in an isolated cottage, called Lincoln Cottage, in Pocock’s Fields, a lonely patch of land at the rear of Liverpool Road, which was adjacent to Barnsbury Park, Islington. There were a few cottages in that area, but all were detached and separated from the neighbouring houses. Added to that, John Templeman, whose income came solely from the rents of properties he owned, was an elderly gentleman, and often boasted of the money he had. Those boasts and John’s circumstances, soon became well known in the Islington area.

  On Monday 16 March 1840, John travelled to Somer’s Town to collect his rents. That routine, too, was well known. That afternoon, John sent for Mary Ann Thornton, a woman who lived in a cottage opposite, and who he employed as a charwoman. John explained that he wished to write some letters, and asked Mary if she would get him some writing paper, and bring it when she called the next day.

  On Tuesday 17 March, Mary Thornton sent her daughter, Elizabeth, to John’s cottage at 8.30am, with the writing paper. Elizabeth knocked at the door, but received no answer. Thinking that Mr Templeman might still be in bed, though he was normally an early riser, Elizabeth went to look in at the bedroom window. There was a shutter drawn down, so Elizabeth could see nothing of the room inside. She then went to look through the sitting-room window, but still saw nothing. Elizabeth ran home to tell her mother that Mr Templeman wasn’t answering his door.

  Mary went across to Lincoln Cottage, to investigate for herself. She knocked on the door first, but again there was no reply. Going to the bedroom window, Mary looked more carefully than her daughter had done, and managed to catch a glimpse of the room, through a small gap in the shutter. She saw John Templeman lying on the floor, close to his bed.

  It might well have been expected that Mary Thornton should have, immediately, reported this discovery to the police, but she did not do so. Instead, she went home and waited for her son-in-law, Francis Capriani, who was due to arrive later that morning. He appeared at 11.00am but, having been told that Mr Templeman was lying on the floor of his cottage, the police were still not informed. Instead, a message was sent to John Templeman’s grandson, Mr Herbert Coates Templeman, a solicitor who practised in Cavendish Square. It was he, who finally informed the police, that his grandfather was in need of assistance.

  No less than three police officers attended at Lincoln Cottage, at around 11.20am. Constable William Kear, Sergeant John Collins and Inspector James Miller arrived with two doctors: Dr Edward Roe and Dr Alfred Lord. They gained entry to the cottage, and found that John Templeman was dead. There were several wounds on the back of his head, and his forehead had been completely smashed in. So fierce had the attack upon him been, that three teeth had been knocked out and were found on the bedroom carpet near his body. They also determined that the most likely time of death was in the early hours of that morning.

  The motive for the crime had obviously been one of robbery. A money-drawer had been forced open, and was now empty. As for the method of entry, the parlour window had been broken, for some time, and the hole had been stuffed with paper. Anyone could simply remove that paper, reach in and unfasten the window catch.

  Largely because of their somewhat strange behaviour in not reporting this matter immediately to the authorities, both Mary Thornton and Francis Cipriani were taken to the police station, for further questioning. Mary was soon released, but Francis remained in custody overnight. He appeared before the magistrates the following morning, Wednesday 18 March, and explained that he lived with Mary Thornton and was a night-watchman, at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre. Francis went on to admit that he occasionally did some gardening work for Mr Templeman, and indeed had done some on Monday 16 March, for which he had been paid seven shillings. Finally, Francis was able to prove that he had been at the theatre until 9.00am, on the Tuesday, and so was at work at the time the crime was committed. He was then released from custody.

  There had, however, been further developments in the meantime. About one year before, Mary Anne Allen, who lived at Wilson’s Cottage in Pocock’s Fields, had had a lodger named Richard Gould. Just a few days before the murder of John Templeman, Gould had returned to her house, and asked Mary if she would let him lodge with her again. As part of the routine police enquiries all the neighbouring cottages had been visited and searched, and when police examined this particular house, they found £5 in cash, mostly silver, and some bloodstained clothing. Gould was arrested on suspicion, as were Mary Ann Jarvis, a friend of Gould, who had called on him a number of times prior to the murder, and her husband, John. Eventually, the latter were both released without charge, but the evidence against Gould was considered strong enough to send him for trial.

  Richard Gould appeared at the Old Bailey on 6 April, before Mr Justice Littledale. Gould’s defence lay in the hands of Mr Chambers, assisted by Mr Caarlen, whilst the prosecution case was detailed by Mr Jones, who was assisted by Mr Ballantine.

  Constable William Kear gave details of what he had found upon entering Lincoln Cottage, on the morning of Tuesday 17 March. Kear had gained entrance through the sitting-room window, the same method most probably used by the killer. Kear then went to the front door and unlocked it, so that the others could gain access.

  John Templeman lay on his back, close to his bed, his hands tied in front of him with a cord. There was a stocking, which was covering his eyes, and tied at the back of his head. He wore nothing but a night-shirt. Constable Kear searched the premises and found two drawers had been forced open. The wood was splintered, suggesting that a tool such as a chisel had been used. Later, Kear found the three teeth, all lying in separate pools of blood.

  Dr Edward Roe was the next witness, and he stated that Templeman had certainly fought for his life. In Dr Roe’s opinion, the first blow had been one to the left temple, with a heavy blunt object such as a piece of wood, or a club of some kind. Another blow had fractured the jaw, and there was also a wound to the nose, most probably caused by a severe kick to the face. Finally, there were two wounds on the back of the head, caused by some sort of sharp instrument, such as a chisel.

  Dr Alfred Lord, who had also visited the scene of the crime, and later assisted Dr Roe in the post-mortem, confirmed the findings of the previous witness, and added that the first blow, the one to the temple, was of itself sufficient to cause death. It would certainly have rendered the victim unconscious immediately.

  Sergeant John Collins had also searched the premises and found a small, mahogany cash box, which had been forced open. It only contained a few personal pap
ers, and the key to this box was later found, in a pair of John Templeman’s trousers. In the same pocket, Collins found the only cash left on the premises, three sixpenny pieces.

  The fact that John Templeman should have had far more than the one shilling and sixpence found in his property, was demonstrated by the next few witnesses. Jane Lovett was one of Templeman’s tenants, and she confirmed that she had paid him £3 on Monday 16 March. In amongst that amount, there was at least five half-crowns and one sovereign. The rest had been in smaller silver, such as shillings and sixpences.

  Hannah Morgan, another tenant, said that she had also paid Mr Templeman £3. This consisted of fourteen half-crowns and twenty-five shillings. The testimony of both of these witnesses meant that John Templeman should have had at least £6 in cash in his home, and that £5 of that amount should have been in silver coins.

  John Mustow lived in the cottage at the back of Mr Templeman’s, and he testified that he had often seen Gould, the prisoner, in the area. He knew Gould as a potman. at the Barnsbury Castle public house, and he used to deliver beer to the houses in Pocock’s Fields. Mustow was also able to confirm that Mr Templeman had often boasted of how much money he had.

  Henry Wright was a potman at the Duchess of Kent, and knew Gould as a customer there. On either 12 or 13 March, Wright could not be sure which, Gould was in the pub and only had one penny in cash. Wright had taken pity on him and stood him a pint of porter. Later, as they talked together, Gould mentioned that he knew an old man who had plenty of money, which he kept in a drawer in his house. Asked where this house was, Gould had replied: ‘Oh, not far.’

  John Richard Johnson had known Gould for somewhere between four and five years. On Friday 13 March, Johnson had seen Gould, who asked him if he could see Jem, a man who worked for Johnson, so that he could ask him where he might get a screw, which was a slang term for a lock-pick. Johnson, quite naturally, asked why he wanted such a thing, and Gould had replied that he knew of an old man, who lived in a lonely cottage, and had money hidden away.

  The Jem that Johnson had referred to was James Rogers, and he had spoken to Gould later on 13 March. Gould had asked him for a screw and a dark lantern, but Johnson had replied that he might as well ask him for a £500 note, as he had no intention of helping him in any way.

  Charles Allen was the husband of Mary Anne, who lived at Wilson’s Cottage, and he testified that Gould had lodged with them a number of times. He had last gone to stay there about a week before Mr Templeman was murdered. Charles knew that on 13 March, Gould had had no money, as he was unable to pay for any breakfast. Gould did say, however, that he would have some money at the weekend.

  Another witness to Gould having no money, before the murder, was Robert King. On the night of Monday 16 March, he had been in the Rainbow public house on Liverpool Road. Gould was also there, playing skittles in the yard. At one stage he mentioned, to King, that he only had a halfpenny in his pocket.

  Also in the Rainbow, was King’s wife, Mary Elizabeth. She noticed, at closing time, that Gould had something in his right-hand coat pocket. The object appeared to be quite long, and was thicker at one end. As all the people left the beerhouse, Mary noticed that Gould walked off in the direction of Lincoln Cottage.

  Inspector James Miller had gone to search Gould’s lodgings, and found nine shilling coins in his jacket pocket. He had also found a bloodstained waistcoat. Later, when the privy of the house was searched, Miller found a stocking hidden between the rafters and the roof. The stocking was quite heavy, and when Miller looked inside he found nineteen half-crowns, forty-eight shillings and seven sixpences, making a total of £4 19s.

  The jury, it seems, did not see the significance, of the basic facts in this case. Gould had been without money in the days leading up to the murders, yet had money on him when he was arrested. More money was found hidden in the outhouse, at his lodgings, money that his landlord and landlady denied having hid there. Gould had also told more than one person that he intended getting some money from an old man who lived in an isolated cottage, and bloodstained clothing had been found in his room. Even more telling, perhaps, was that the number of half-crowns paid to Mr Templeman by his two tenants, was nineteen; precisely the number found in the hidden stocking.

  Despite all this, the jury did not think that they had enough evidence to convict, and returned a not guilty verdict. Gould walked from court a free man, quite possibly responsible for a violent robbery and a most brutal murder.

  Chapter 4

  Thomas Cooper

  1842

  In the early months of 1842, there had been a number of robberies in the area of Hornsey Wood and north Islington. A man had been walking up to people, brandish a pistol, and like some fictional highwayman had demanded, ‘Your money or your life.’ Cash, watches and gold chains had been taken and, as a result, police officers in that area had been furnished with a basic description, and told to be on the look-out for anyone behaving suspiciously.

  On Friday 5 May 1842, Constable Charles Moss was patrolling his beat in Hornsey, when he saw a man walking towards him, who fitted the description of the armed robber. As the man passed Moss, the officer turned and watched him go into a house nearby. Moss decided he had mistaken the man, and he hadn’t been the robber after all, and so continued on his beat. He had only gone a few more steps, when another man, walking towards him, ran over to the opposite side of the road, jumped over a hedge, and vanished into a field.

  Constable Moss thought that such behaviour warranted further investigation, so climbed over a stile and entered the field himself. For a few moments, he failed to see the man but then, turning to his left, Moss saw the man crouching down on the grass, and in front of him, on the ground, were two pistols.

  Moss demanded to know what the man was doing. He replied: ‘Nothing in particular.’ Moss was far from satisfied, and said that if he was not able to give a better account of himself, he would have to come to the police station, and explain himself there. At that, the man leapt to his feet, picking up the pistols as he did, and brandishing one in each hand towards Moss.

  Constable Moss bravely took a step forward, and the man fired the pistol in his right hand. A searing pain struck Moss in his left arm, just above the elbow. Still Moss moved forward, whereupon the armed man pulled the trigger of the other pistol, but it failed to go off. Moss now rushed at his man and was rewarded with a blow to the head from the pistol, which had failed to discharge. By now, Moss had started to weaken somewhat, due to the wound in his arm, and had to let his assailant go. The man quickly ran off, with the injured Moss in pursuit.

  As the two men ran over the fields, heading down towards north Islington, Moss shouted for help, from the people who he passed. Some of those men who heard his cries, joined in with the chase. Then, due largely to the loss of blood, Constable Moss fell to the ground. He would later spend weeks in hospital, before finally making a full recovery.

  James Mallett was another constable on duty near Hornsey Wood, when he heard the sound of a shot. Going to investigate, he saw Moss, and other men, chasing a man who had a pistol in each hand. By now, the gunman was running along Hornsey Road, and Mallett now joined in the chase. In all, the crowd followed the man for close on two miles, as he moved further and further south, into Islington.

  When Constable Moss had fallen, in the field, John William Young, a waiter at the Hornsey Wood Tavern, had come to his aid. Seeing that the officer was not in danger of dying, he too joined in the chase and, at one point, passed another constable, who he told that a brother officer had been shot. This constable, Timothy Daly, also joined in the chase, leaving Moss to wait for medical aid to arrive.

  In due course, the gunman found himself out of breath, and trapped in a small cul-de-sac lane off Highbury Park. He turned, his back to a wooden fence, and faced the mob of people who were still pursuing him. There were, perhaps, twenty people in that mob, including Constable Daly, and a baker named Charles Mott.

  The crowd of
people formed a semi-circle around the gunman and Daly, being the only uniformed officer there at the time, stepped forward to take charge of the man. The pistols were raised again but, as Daly stepped forward he commented that he did not believe they were loaded. The gunman said that they were, and that he would be happy to let the officer have the contents of them. Then, as the gunman had his eyes fixed upon Daly, Charles Mott saw his chance.

  Rushing forward to seize the fugitive, Mott managed to lose his footing, and slipped down as he grabbed the man’s waist. A shot rang out, and Mott was wounded in the shoulder. Constable Daly had also moved forward, and a second shot hit him in the head. His guns now useless, as they would need to be reloaded, the gunman dropped them, and reached into his jacket pocket. Someone shouted that he had a large knife, whereupon the crowd leapt upon him and subdued him. The weapons were all confiscated, and the prisoner then marched to the police station. It was there that he identified himself as twenty-three-year-old Thomas Cooper, of 1 Rawstorne Street, Clerkenwell.

  Later that same day, Inspector George Thatcher informed Cooper, that he would be charged with the murder of Constable Timothy Daly. An incredulous Cooper asked: ‘Is he dead then?’ When that was confirmed, George Cooper went very pale, and seemed as if he were about to faint.

  Cooper’s trial for murder took place on 13 June 1842, at the Old Bailey. He pleaded not guilty to murder, his defence team claiming that he was insane at the time of the shooting.

  After Constable Moss and Constable Mallett had given their testimony, John Young, the waiter, was called to the stand. He had been one of the group of men, who had been gathered around Cooper at the time of the shooting. Young had heard Daly say that he didn’t believe the pistols were loaded, two or three times, and each time Cooper had replied that they were. Young had been one of those who seized hold of Cooper, once Daly had been shot.