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FDSD Islington

Page 11

by John Eddleston


  It soon became clear that if Gamble were responsible for the death of Sidney Dowling, then a possible motive, was revenge. When Ellen Dowling was informed of the arrest, she told the police that she had had a problem with Gamble some months before. A stray dog had run into her house and Gamble, who was in the street at the time, had run into her house to try to chase it out. The dog ran all over the house, chased all the time by Gamble, and at one stage ran into Ellen’s bedroom. Only when both the dog and Gamble had left, did she miss a valuable watch, which had been in the bedroom. She made an official complaint against Gamble, but the police advised her to drop the matter, as there was not enough evidence against him. Could Gamble have killed the child in order to revenge himself upon Ellen Dowling?

  The inquest on the dead child took place on Friday, 9 October, and the evidence against Gamble was soon seen to be contradictory. Whilst it was true that he was the only person known to have access to the house, where the crime took place, anyone else might have entered whilst he was unloading the cart, as he had, of necessity, left the premises unlocked. He had given Sidney the pear, but Jessie Murphy had seen him eating that, whilst sitting on the front step. That meant that Gamble would have had to entice the child into number 41, after he had given him the piece of fruit. Finally, there was the fact that although the crime was committed in a space of perhaps fifteen minutes, Gamble was not late back to the stall in Chapel Street. The coroner advised the jury that it was unsafe to return a verdict against Gamble, and they duly decided that Sidney Dowling had been murdered by a person or persons unknown. Alfred Gamble was a free man, but his story did not end there.

  There were two further incidents linked directly to this case. In the first of these, in December 1895, a man confessed to Sidney’s murder.

  George Clifton had been in prison since his arrest on 5 November, on a charge of stealing a book valued at two shillings. Whilst in prison, he made a full confession to the child’s murder saying: ‘It was me that killed the child Victor [sic] Dowling, at Parkfield Street. I put the paper in his mouth, then tied him in a sack and threw it over the wall. I heard it sound on the dustbin.

  ‘The reason I make this confession, is because the child is all the while haunting me, and the last three or four nights I have not been able to get any sleep at all.’

  What might have looked to be a closure of the case, proved to be nothing of the kind, when the police discovered that Clifton had only recently been released from the Richmond Lunatic Asylum in Dublin, and knew none of the details of the crime, apart from what he had read in the newspaper. He was, nevertheless, given three months’ hard labour for stealing the book.

  The second development took place on 3 December 1895, when a three-year-old boy, William Charles Cattle, was enticed from his home, at 20 Sidney Grove, into a stable yard next to his house, at number 18. The boy was not discovered until after 7.00pm that evening. He had been suffocated and stabbed but, fortunately, later made a full recovery from his injuries.

  The police investigation showed that the stables, at number 18, belonged to none other that Mrs Burgess, the owner of the fruit stall in Chapel Street. She told the police that she had sent an assistant to the stables to get some sacks for her. The assistant was the only person with the key at the time William Cattle had been attacked, and had been an inordinately long time on his errand. That assistant was Alfred Gamble.

  Arrested again and charged with wounding and attempted murder, Gamble appeared at the Old Bailey on 13 January 1896, before Mr Justice Hawkins. There were only two witnesses, both medical gentlemen.

  Dr George Edward Walker was the surgeon at Holloway prison, where Gamble had been held. The other witness was Dr George Henry Savage, of Henrietta Street. Both doctors had examined Gamble and testified that he was a congenital imbecile and, therefore, not in a fit condition to plead, or understand the nature and quality of the act he had committed. At the direction of the judge, the jury returned a verdict that Alfred Gamble was guilty but insane. He was then ordered to be detained until Her Majesty’s pleasure be made known.

  Technically, the murder of Sidney Victor Dowling remains an unsolved crime, but what is certain is that after Gamble had been sent down on 13 January, no further investigation into the murder took place.

  A map showing the location of the Lion Tavern, where Charles Bricknell stabbed Jane Gary to death. Author’s collection

  How the Illustrated Police News showed the murder of Theresa Neal, by her husband, Thomas. Author’s collection

  George Chapman, the man found guilty of poisoning three women, two of them in Islington. Author’s collection

  How the newspapers of the day portrayed the execution of Chapman. Note how he has to be supported on the trap. Author’s collection

  Part of the statement written by Arthur Canham, explaining how he had killed his wife, Selina, and then tried to take his own life. The National Archives

  Rosina Field, the woman murdered at the furniture shop where Murphy worked. The National Archives

  Inside the furniture warehouse at 22 Islington Green, where Frederick Murphy worked. The National Archives

  The mysterious note which Murphy sent to Stanley Wilton, explaining that there was a body in the shop’s cellar. The National Archives

  Rosina’s body, in the cellar at 22 Islington Green. The National Archives

  Catherine Peck, also nicknamed Rose, the first woman Murphy had been accused of killing. The National Archives

  The old shelter, opposite Hall’s Tobacconist’s shop in Tollington Way. The National Archives

  The alleyway, where Michael Xinaris killed James Robinson. The National Archives

  The body of Ronald James Marley, as it was found inside the air-raid shelter. The National Archives

  A mortuary picture of James Robinson, showing the wounds he had suffered. The National Archives

  Seven Sisters Road, where Constable Summers was stabbed by Ronald Henry Marwood. The National Archives

  The body of Michael Joseph Teahan in his bed. The National Archives

  The new gas meter at Andover Road. The National Archives

  Sofronis Café at 162 Seven Sisters Road, outside which Panayotis Gregorgiou shot Costas Vassiliou. The National Archives

  Another police photograph of the murder scene. The National Archives

  The bloodstains outside the café. The National Archives

  The body of Costas Vassiliou, in the mortuary. The National Archives

  Chapter 24

  Alfred Chipperfield

  1895

  When she was just two years old, Maria Clarke had been adopted by George and Ann Brandon, who lived in Leighton Buzzard. Maria grew up in a loving and secure home until, when she was seventeen, in December 1893, she left home and moved to London.

  In the capital, Maria earned her living as a barmaid. Her first position was in the Ram and Teazle but, by late 1895, she was working at The Star. It was in the first of those establishments that she met a young man named Alfred Chipperfield, though he later became a regular customer at The Star too. In both establishments, Chipperfield usually came in with a good friend of his, Frank Cannon.

  In due course, Maria started walking out with Chipperfield, and they seemed to be very happy in each other’s company. Maria often visited her adoptive parents, back in Leighton Buzzard and, some time in November 1895, she took Chipperfield with her, for the first time. There was, however, one small problem. Throughout all this time, Ann Brandon had made it plain that she simply did not approve of the relationship between her adopted daughter and Chipperfield. This wasn’t because she had anything in particular against Chipperfield, but simply because she felt Maria was far too young to be romantically involved with any man.

  On 13 November, Maria spent an extended stay with her family back in Leighton Buzzard. She stayed until 7 December, but was back again ten days later, on 17 December. This time, Chipperfield was with her, and Maria announced that they had eloped to Cork in Ireland an
d had married there. From now on, she was to be known as Maria Chipperfield. The newlyweds stayed with the Brandons that night and, next day, caught the train back to London.

  John Stanley was a cab driver, and on the evening of Wednesday 18 December 1895, his hansom was parked on the forecourt at Euston railway station. At 9.15pm, a train arrived, and a young couple approached his cab. The couple were Alfred and Maria Chipperfield and, as they climbed in to Stanley’s cab, Alfred said that they wished to be taken to Annette Crescent, which was off Essex Road in Islington.

  Almost as soon as the journey started, Alfred called for the driver to stop. He had seen that the refreshment bar was open. John Stanley waited patiently, whilst his fares both enjoyed a quick glass of ale together. The journey finally started but, once again, Alfred called for Stanley to stop, as they reached the White Horse on Liverpool Road. Alfred went into the bar and returned with a glass of wine, which he gave to his wife. He then invited the cab driver to join him in the bar, for a glass. Stanley agreed, after all, the customer was always right and, if he were prepared to pay, then who was he to argue?

  The two men went into the White Horse, leaving Maria in the cab with her glass of wine. When the men came out, Alfred announced that he was just going away for a short time, and asked Stanley to wait for him. In fact, Alfred was gone for almost an hour, during which time Maria complained that she was cold. Stanley went back inside the White Horse, and brought out a glass of port and a sandwich for his passenger. They then sat and waited for Alfred to return.

  Alfred finally arrived back at the cab, and asked Stanley to drive off. The cab moved along the road and had reached Essex Road, just a few yards from Annette Crescent, when Thomas Brown, a man who had been walking down Essex Road, ran to the cab and ordered the driver to stop, saying that there was something terribly wrong.

  John Stanley stopped the cab and, looking down, saw that Maria’s head was hanging out of the cab window, with her hand grasping for the door handle. Stanley jumped down from his cab and helped Thomas Brown to open the cab door. Only now could both men see that there was a good deal of blood around Maria’s throat. As she staggered out of the cab, she tried to say something and pointed towards her throat. As Stanley and some others, who had by now rushed to help, carried Maria to the doctor’s, Thomas Brown looked inside the cab. He saw Alfred Chipperfield slumped in the far corner of the cab, apparently unconscious, and bleeding from a wound in his own throat. Brown ran off to find a policeman. He did not have to go very far.

  Constable William Capper was on point duty in Essex Road, when Brown approached him, and said that two people had had their throats cut in a cab. Going to investigate, Capper saw Alfred. Still slumped down in the cab. With assistance, the stricken man was taken out, and escorted to Dr Robinson’s surgery. By the time Alfred arrived there, Maria had already died.

  Alfred Chipperfield was eventually taken to St Bartholomew’s Hospital, where he remained until 3 January 1896. On that day he was discharged, but immediately arrested on two charges: one of murder and one of attempting to take his own life. He appeared at the Old Bailey, to answer those charges, on 3 February 1896.

  Ann Brandon was the first witness. She started by saying that she had been taken to Holloway mortuary on 19 December, and had there identified the body of Maria Chipperfield, who had previously been named Clarke.

  Ann Stroud lived in Westminster, and she confirmed that the dead woman had been her niece. On 6 December, the day before Maria had left Leighton Buzzard to return to London, Ann had received a letter from her. This read:

  My dear Uncle and Aunt.

  Just a line to say I am coming up to London. Alf wants me to be married in London. I have asked him to put it off till Sunday, as I want a few things. Mother is so nasty; she won’t advise me; indeed, if she knew where, she would stop it. We are going to Ireland, if we are married, for ten days, etc., your loving niece, Maria.

  Ann was also able to confirm that another letter, found amongst Alfred Chipperfield’s belongings, was also in Maria’s hand. This one read:

  My dear Alf,

  Just a line to say I will be at Euston, as arranged, tomorrow Friday. I shall come by the 11.20 from Leighton.

  Alf, dear, I think it best to wait until Sunday before we are married, as there are one or two things I should like to get, for instance, a coloured dress. If I am ever married at all, it shall not be in a black dress, as you know time is so short that I cannot get one here.

  If you had told me a week or two ago, I could have had everything ready, so I hope you will consider this as best, and postpone it for two days, it will not make much difference, will it? Mother is very nasty about it; I shall be glad to get away from here again. I hope you got home all right last night, as I did. I don’t think I have any more to say until I see you to-morrow, so will conclude with fondest love.

  Herbert Austin confirmed that Alfred had worked for his company since early 1891, but his employment had ceased on Thursday 6 December 1895. On that day, Alfred had asked permission to go into the City, on some private business of his own. Herbert had agreed and said that, as he was going anyway, Alfred could pay some cheques into the company account for him. He could also cash a £15 cheque to cover staff wages. By 3.15pm, Alfred had not returned and, upon checking at the bank, Herbert discovered that Alfred had cashed the cheque and, presumably, absconded with the funds.

  At this point, other letters were read out in court. The first of these had been written to Annie, by Alfred, and was dated 22 June 1895. It read:

  To Miss Clark,

  Dear Annie, If you only knew how I feel, you would be sorry for writing to me like this. I love you from the bottom of my heart, and no one else shall have you. I am not going in the Ram any more, and don’t tell people all you know, because it only comes back. Trusting you are quite well, with love.

  The second letter was dated just over a month later, on 29 July. It began:

  Dear Annie, You greatly upset me last night.

  I thought when I came in on Sunday morning there was something wrong, with my not wanting to take you out in the afternoon. I should only have been too pleased to do so, but as it was such a wretched day, and being a Sunday, I did not think you would care to come.

  I have turned over a new leaf, and feel much better for it. I want you to meet me at the Bank tomorrow. I have something I wish to ask you. It is not very nice for me to come and see you, when you are making arrangements with other fellows. Anybody would think I was a fool.

  I had no sleep all last night through you. I think it is very unkind of you to go on like this, when I am trying to do my best for you. I have been greatly upset lately without you making more trouble. I was going abroad, only I put it off for you.

  You know I love you, and would do anything for you. Of course, if you do not like me, I would rather you tell me, than to make a fool of me. I can assure you that since we made it up, I have not been with one girl. I shall not say any more at present, so trusting you are quite well.

  Those letters indicated that all had not, after all, been well with the relationship between the two lovers. Both had apparently been jealous of other people and it might well be argued that Alfred was rushing Maria into marriage, in the hope that this would solve whatever problems they had. It also gave a possible motive for Alfred wishing to kill Maria, if he were jealous of other men paying her attention.

  After John Stanley, the cab driver and Thomas Brown, who had first seen Maria hanging out of the cab window, had given their evidence, the prosecution called other witnesses to some of the events in Essex Road, on the night Maria was killed.

  Alfred Griffiths had been close to Annette Crescent when he heard a woman scream. Seeing the cab stop, and other people running towards it, Griffiths went to see for himself what had taken place. He helped to take Maria to Dr Richardson’s but he was not at home. As Maria was helped into the empty surgery, it was Griffiths who ran off to fetch Dr Gray.

  William Edward Wrigh
t was also near Annette Crescent, and went to offer what assistance he could. Wright was another of the men, who had helped to carry Maria into Dr Richardson’s surgery.

  Sergeant Hugh Harley was called to Dr Richardson’s surgery some time after Maria had died. After Alfred Chipperfield had received basic treatment for the wound in his throat, it was Harley who escorted him to St Bartholomew’s Hospital. The prisoner was searched there, and Harley found an empty razor case in one of his jacket pockets.

  During his stay in the hospital, Alfred was guarded by police officers. One of those officers was Constable John Ashton. On 19 December, whilst he was at the prisoner’s bed, Alfred touched him on the arm and said: ‘Have you seen my wife?’ When Ashton said that he hadn’t, Alfred continued, saying:

  She is in the mortuary. I wish it was me instead of her, for she was a good girl.

  We were married on Monday, and came to London on Wednesday. We took a cab from Euston, and stopped just outside the station, and had a drink, and then stopped again at the White Hart public house, on Liverpool Road.

  I left my wife there some time, and went to try and find a pal of mine, Frank Cannon, but could not find him. I got in the cab again, and we drove down Essex Road.

 

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