Criminal Liverpool

by Daniel K Longman

  ‘Was it therefore likely,’ continued Mr Wilkins, ‘that a man in his position, for the paltry consideration of a few shillings would run the risk of confiscating the whole of his property and rendering his wife and children the wife and children of a convict father?’

  The jury thought so, and after a short summing up by Judge Erie passed sentence. ‘Charles Chubb, you stand convicted of the crime of making a false and counterfeit register of a birth which it was your duty to have kept true. Yours is an offence which in its consequence is likely to produce the greatest possible inconvenience to society.’ He was then imprisoned with hard labour for six months.

  A DAY AT THE DENTIST

  A rather sad and unfortunate case was heard at the Coroner’s Court on Wednesday 14 November 1894. That afternoon Mr Sampson and a jury heard the awful particulars surrounding the demise of thirty-seven-year-old Ada Lancaster.

  The previous week Mrs Lancaster received a letter from Mr E. Osborn, a Rodney Street dentist, requesting that she did not eat any food before coming to see him for a procedure that was scheduled to be carried out on the 12th. Ada had been a patient at his practice for years and was always confident in Mr Osborn’s ability as a dental surgeon.

  Rodney Street from map dating from the turn of the 1900s.

  The former dentist practice in Rodney Street.

  She headed to his surgery, Osborne, Lewis & James, at 1 Rodney Street and waited to be called. Shortly afterwards Mrs Lancaster found herself in the formidable dentist’s chair and was soon being prepared for the procedure. Dr Larkin was to deal with the precarious business of anaesthetisation and began asking the standard questions to determine the woman’s suitability for the anaesthetic. Everything was fine.

  Mr Osborne retrieved a dental mask from a cabinet and handed it to the doctor. He placed it over the patient’s mouth and nose before administering some chloroform. This caused a sweet-smelling aroma to issue up through Mrs Lancaster’s throat and nostrils and she began to feel sleepy. Several years ago Ada had undergone a similar procedure with no problems, but this time things were not to go so well. There was a slight struggle before drifting into unconsciousness, but Ada’s body seemed to calm down without causing the dentists any cause for concern. It was only when Mr Osborn positioned himself over the woman that they noticed a problem. Her skin had turned a ghostly shade of white, and Dr Larkin could detect no trace of a heartbeat.

  Mrs Lancaster, however, did appear to be breathing. Mr Osborne called for his son and Dr Briggs from the house next door who both rushed in to administer any assistance that they could. For two hours artificial respiration was kept up, but to no effect. Mrs Lancaster was dead.

  The authorities were contacted and Ada’s body was taken away to undergo a post-mortem. Dr Chapman, the physician at the Mill Road Infirmary, conducted the examination. He found the deceased’s body to be in a very good condition, the only complaint being that of the early stages of kidney disease. All the organs were in good health and the heart especially was fine in every respect. It appeared to have just suddenly ceased to beat and never resumed.

  The coroner asked Dr Chapman if he could account for its sudden stoppage. ‘I cannot,’ said the doctor. ‘It seems one of those lamentable cases, happily very rare, which occur under chloroform. The kidney disease did not in the least affect the case.’

  Dr Larkin, the professional who had induced Mrs Lancaster’s unconsciousness, was heard to have had twenty-seven years’ experience with anaesthetic and had dealt with over 3,000 cases with chloroform. The jury returned a verdict of death from misadventure and stated that it was their opinion that everything possible had been done by the doctors and that the chloroform had been skilfully administered.

  MYSTERIOUS

  CIRCUMSTANCES

  The penultimate year of the nineteenth century saw widower Agnes Watts living at the Maid’s Home in Charter Street, Manchester. Since her husband’s death the thirty-one-year-old had fallen on hard times and was a noticeable character due to the fact she possessed only one eye. Also at the house resided Annie Smith, a woman of similar age who was very quiet and kept herself to herself. She never mentioned anything personal and when asked about her family, she used to cry.

  The vicinity of Christian Street and Springfield Place, as shown in 1891.

  A week before Christmas Miss Smith had informed Agnes that she would soon be leaving to find accommodation at a place called Lampoil Jack’s, which she had heard of in Deansgate. Widow Watts said her goodbyes and believed that would be the last she would ever see of Annie Smith.

  On 6 January, however, Agnes came to Liverpool. She walked the distance in stages and was no doubt exhausted on finally reaching the city. The woman neared Park Road, near to St Patrick’s Chapel, where, to her astonishment, she saw her old acquaintance from the Maid’s Home. She watched as Annie sang somewhat woefully on the street corner. This was how she made her living. Mrs Watts thought it best not interrupt the performance and carried on with her business. She had no idea how long Annie had been in Liverpool, but presumed that Deansgate hadn’t worked out for her.

  On the afternoon on the 11th, Sarah Evans of Christian Street needed to speak with her sister-in-law. Sarah set off in search of her relative, but her hunt was cut short when she stumbled across a shocking scene: on looking through the window of 18 Springfield Place, the labourer’s wife observed the naked body of a woman lying cold upon the floorboards. She screamed for the police and grabbed hold of Constable Gavin to inform him of the news. The officer entered the property and knelt over the body. The unclothed cadaver was very thin, emaciated and covered in dirt and vermin. The eyes seemed sunken but there were no serious marks on the face or head. The constable did notice that the right arm and right side of the body were covered in scars, practically for the whole length of her height. The left arm just below the shoulder was blackened and discoloured, but there did not appear to be any obvious cause of death.

  News of the discovery spread quickly and it was not long before Widow Watts contacted the police. She had heard a rumour that a female street singer had been found dead and wondered if it was her old friend, Annie Smith. Police escorted the woman to the Princes Dock Mortuary and showed her the body. She identified it as being so.

  In Dale Street on Monday 16 January, the coroner Mr Sampson opened an inquest into the grisly circumstances. Since the discovery Detective Sergeant Duckworth had travelled to Manchester to make enquiries with Mrs Watts. They had been unsuccessful in their attempts to locate further details surrounding Annie Smith. None of her friends or family could be found, forcing them to return to Liverpool and report to the inquest none the wiser. Detective Sergeant Duckworth did however provide information regarding the house in Christian Street. The door, he described, only needed a little pressure to open it, and the house could be entered easily by a number of other methods. The property had been occupied by vagrants for about four months as a place to sleep, but the officer had no recollection of seeing the deceased in the neighbourhood.

  The remaining portion of Springfield Place.

  Dr Cornett had made a post-mortem but had found nothing that would lead him to confirm a precise cause of death. The only injuries he found were to the woman’s right side. It was covered in scars, just as Constable Gavin observed upon finding the body. ‘They could have been caused by her dragging herself across the floor, or from a fall,’ said the physician. It was his opinion that the woman had died from starvation and exposure, and due to her emancipated condition death may have been accelerated because of these injuries. The female’s nakedness may well have been to escape the itching of the vermin that were found to have plagued her body.

  Horace Dunnett, also of Spring Place, related how on the 2nd of that month he had heard cries of ‘Help!’, ‘Murder!’ and ‘Police!’ coming from an empty house there. He stated that the cries were not repeated but it sounded as if someone was being beaten. Such sounds were common in the neighbourhood so little notice was
ever taken of them; drunken women were often thrashed by their husbands.

  Shortly afterwards the coroner declared that the case had been looked through enough, and wished the jury to consider a verdict. After a brief consultation the foreman stood and announced their collective view: ‘Death of woman unknown, supposed to be Annie Smith, death was caused by starvation and exposure, accelerated by injury. How the injuries were received, there is no evidence to show.’

  THE BULLY

  Michael Lavelle was a sawyer’s assistant employed at a timber yard in Bryom Street. On the afternoon of 1 February 1886, he entered the yard and spoke with another worker, forty-two-year-old Maxwell Kirkpatrick.

  ‘How are you getting on?’ asked the youth, and an unusually polite conversation occurred between the two. ‘When did you start? I should have started a week ago,’ said Michael. Mr Kirkpatrick was busy and really didn’t have time for this idle chit-chat. He quickly brought an end to the talk and got back to his work. Michael decided to go over and look at a boiler and childishly began playing with the steam whistle. ‘Leave it alone!’ Max shouted angrily. ‘It’s in the fitter’s hands!’ The sixteen-year-old left his industrial toy and struck up another conversation with the man. The words exchanged this time were not overheard, but to fellow sawyer’s assistant William Roberts, they didn’t look pleasant. Michael was irate. He walked away from Mr Kirkpatrick and spoke to William instead.

  An 1885 map of Everton Brow where Maxwell Kirkpatrick was fatally struck.

  A twenty-first century view down Everton Brow.

  ‘Will you be walking home with him?’ seethed Lavelle. ‘Up Richmond Row or Clayton Street?’

  ‘Yes I’ll be going home with Maxwell. I walk past his house on my way,’ replied William. ‘Richmond Row will be the nearest route,’ he added. ‘Good night then,’ Michael said cheerfully before turning to walk off home. Just then William called to him. ‘Do you live in Addison Street?’

  ‘No, no, I’m in Sawney Pope Street,’ answered Lavelle. The time was just after 5 p.m. and the workers at the timber yard were preparing to head off for the day. William jogged over to Mr Kirkpatrick and the two left the yard together and headed out towards Richmond Row. Soon they found themselves near to the Congregational Chapel in Everton Brow and it was there that Roberts heard a voice shout out from behind. ‘Hello Max!’ was the cry. William turned fast, but he was too late to prevent his companion from being struck by an assailant and falling to the ground. It was Michael Lavelle, and in his hands he held a bloodied roller from the timber yard. He had attacked Mr Kirkpatrick and was fleeing the scene via Watmough Street.

  ‘Mr Kirkpatrick? Mr Kirkpatrick?’ There was no answer. Maxwell had been knocked unconscious by the blow, leaving the youth Roberts bemused at what to do. Fortunately, his worry was short lived as the sawyer came to in about five minutes.

  ‘What happened?’ he moaned. Roberts informed him of the attack, saying that it was definitely Michael Lavelle who was responsible. With the boy’s assistance Maxwell was able to walk home. He had blood oozing from his right ear.

  After reaching home at about 5.45 p.m., Mr Kirkpatrick spoke with his wife, Jane. ‘Is there any blood on my head?’ he asked her.

  ‘No dear, but there is some on your ear and neck,’ she answered, with a clear tone of concern. She told him he was to see the doctor at once and urged him to see Dr Ellis over at Brougham Terrace. Upon examination the doctor told Maxwell to go home and get some rest. He would be paying a visit later that evening to check up on him and the progress of the injury. Dr Ellis arrived as promised but was met with a hysterical Jane Kirkpatrick, who informed him that her husband had slipped into unconsciousness. Despite the doctor’s greatest efforts and an all-night vigil, Maxwell did not regain consciousness and died at 10 a.m. the following morning.

  The police were contacted and Detective Sergeant MacDonald and Sub Inspector Hale were assigned to the case. They visited 49 Addison Street that very morning and entered the teenager’s bedroom. ‘Get out of bed and put some clothes on!’ ordered the officers.

  ‘What for?’ groaned Michael, still half asleep. ‘For seriously assaulting Mr Kirkpatrick in Everton Brow last night!’ replied Detective Sergeant MacDonald.

  The boy began to cry. ‘I used to work with him at Tickle’s timber yard and he was always getting on at me,’ he whimpered. ‘He told me that my mother was in hell, and I had it in for him for that. I struck him on the top of the head with a stick and then ran along Watmough Street.’

  Everton Brow. The stone structure, Prince Rupert’s Tower, was built in 1787 and used to incarcerate criminals until they could be tried.

  The juvenile’s tears failed to elicit any sympathy and at one o’clock, Michael Lavelle was formally charged with causing the death of Maxwell Kirkpatrick. ‘I know I did the deed!’ Michael cried, ‘I want some witnesses!’

  Further information from the prisoner yielded the discovery of the murder weapon located in the cellar of a house in Bute Street.

  On Wednesday 3 February, the accused attended the inquest into the death before Mr Clarke Aspinall.

  Seventeen-year-old William Roberts deposed that he lived at 36 Kepler Road and that he had worked at the timber yard with the prisoner and the deceased. Under cross-examination William said that Michael was ‘puller off’ for Mr Kirkpatrick at Tickle’s yard where they all used to work. During his time there he saw Maxwell constantly bully and demean the lad. It was heard how on one occasion, the deceased had been winding Michael up by throwing chips at him and using abusive language. Master Lavelle lost his temper and threw a roller at the man’s legs.

  Teenager John Brown was also called to give evidence:

  I worked at Messrs. Tickle and Son’s timber yard with Michael and Mr Kirkpatrick.I left about a month ago and the week before leaving I saw Kirkpatrick throw some chips at Lavelle, and heard him call the same an Irish pig. Michael threw a roller at him in return. The same night in the yard, Lavelle said to me, ‘I’ll be hung for him if he does not leave me alone’ and also said that Kirkpatrick’s time would be short.

  William Tickle, timber merchant of Blackstock Street, was called on behalf of the accused juvenile. He said that the boy had been in his employ for about two months and bore a good character. When Kirkpatrick was employed there were frequent complaints of bullying and it was reported that the sawyer had been ill-using the lads. Hugh Wilson, foreman to the previous witness, backed up the reports of bullying by Maxwell and remarked that the boy was a quiet and inoffensive chap who lived in constant fear of the dead man.

  Dr Ellis was next to take to the stand. He had made a post-mortem examination upon the body of Maxwell and found the cause of death to be compression of the brain due to haemorrhage from fracture of the skull.

  The jury after some consideration returned a verdict of wilful murder and the prisoner was accordingly committed to the assizes.

  At the Liverpool Assizes before Mr Justice Day, Michael Lavelle stood with a capital charge hanging over his youthful head. The accounts heard at the coroner’s court were reiterated with one new piece of evidence being mentioned. Michael attested that his and Mr Kirkpatrick’s ill-feeling started back in June. According to him, the deceased hit him and grabbed him by the muffles, almost choking him. Two weeks before Christmas Max got his money and went with Lavelle for a noggin of whiskey.

  ‘Once he had the whiskey in him he was like a madman. He kicked and thumped me for nothing!’ Michael pleaded.

  Dr Commins, addressing the jury for the defence, said that the case was a very miserable one from beginning to end, the deceased appearing to have played the part of a bully and a coward.

  ‘The prisoner was no doubt exasperated by all of his ill-treatment, but no one could have supposed that with such a weapon in the hands of such a feeble lad like him, a blow inflicted upon a strong, powerful man like Mr Kirkpatrick would have had such terrible consequences.’ Dr Commins added that there was nothing in the evidence which would lead
the jury to suppose that the prisoner had murderous intent. He therefore implored them to consider his client to be only guilty of manslaughter.

  His Lordship in summing up said that it was very painful to see a lad of the prisoner’s age and who had previously born an excellent character considering the position he occupied. ‘However I am here to administer the law without reference to persons. I have to assume that persons intend the natural consequences of their acts and if the consequence of their actions were death, then the person by whom it was committed was guilty of murder.’ Judge Day continued by saying that if the jury believed Michael Lavelle intended to commit grievous bodily harm, then he was now guilty of wilful murder and it would be their duty, however painful, to bring in a verdict in accordance with the law.

  Half an hour passed before the jury returned from their consultation room armed with a verdict of wilful murder.

  ‘I did not intend to kill the man!’ cried out Michael, whose quiet sobbing came to its tender climax.

  ‘With a strong recommendation for mercy,’ concluded the foreman. His Lordship sighed. He reached for the black cap and placed it on his head. Lavelle was then addressed:

  Michael Lavelle, you have been found guilty of wilful murder on evidence which is overwhelming against you. You did maliciously kill the unfortunate man, whom you hurried out of his life without one moment of time to repent of the sins he may have been guilty of. Do not fail to at once prepare yourself for the great change which awaits you.