Murder & Crime Leeds

by Margaret Drinkall

  Normington was brought into court at Leeds on Tuesday 6 September, along with Bearden. Both men were remanded for three days while further enquiries were made. The trial was resumed on Friday 9 September, throughout which Normington appeared to take little interest in the evidence, seemingly unconcerned by the proceedings. However, once the court had been adjourned and Normington was pushing through the crowded corridor leading out of the court, he told one of the constables that he was going to ‘tell all about it before he had done’. He then asked to speak to Mr English. He was taken into a police office, where the Chief Constable attended on him with the clerk to the magistrates, Mr Barr. Normington made a full confession to Mr English, stating that he had been present when the murder was committed, although he was not on his own. He gave the name of another man called Pollard, who he said had actually attacked Mr Broughton. Nevertheless, the most damning evidence against Normington was the stick with which Mr Broughton had been attacked – the stick he had already identified as his own.

  As his trial continued the following day, he was described as being ‘round shouldered, strongly built and bow legged’. He had ‘a round, full face with a small mole on it’, and ‘light-brown hair which curled a little on each side’. Bearden was in the dock with him, but was quickly found not guilty and told to stand down. Normington was asked if he had anything to say and replied with a statement to the effect that on the night of the murder, he had been pulling down his trousers to go to the toilet when the old man passed him. Next he heard the sounds of Pollard attacking the old man and then both men ran off. Normington had asked Pollard if he had killed the old man, and he shook his head but told him that there was some blood on the old man’s head. He told Normington that he had thrown the stick away and that there was no need for him to be frightened, ‘so long as it’s me what’s done it’.

  A search was made for the man, Pollard, and he was eventually found, but quickly eliminated as a suspect when it was discovered that he had been in Kirkdale Prison, near Liverpool, at the time of the attack. Normington was found guilty and was sent to take his trial at the York Assizes. On the journey there, he showed no compassion for the deed, but rather a curiosity about what might happen on the scaffold. As the train headed towards York, he asked his companion about how thick the rope used for hanging felons was. He asked, ‘Is it as thick as a pit rope?’ to which his companion replied that it was. On reaching York, he was put into a cab and within a few minutes he was lodged in a cell at the castle.

  The trial started on 15 December 1859 at 9 a.m. and continued until 5 p.m. in the evening. The prisoner caused a stir when he came into the prison, due to his small stature, being only 4ft 8¾ins in height and looking much younger than his 17 years. In court, the prosecution outlined the case, stating that on Saturday 6 August, Mr Broughton had left home around 4.45 p.m. in order to buy some food for his ducks. In his possession, he had a German silver pocket watch and a florin. He had not gone far when, in pausing to climb over a stile, he was attacked by two men. Two blows were sufficient to render him insensible, but three more blows were inflicted on him, fracturing his skull. The two men then ransacked his pockets and took the watch, although the florin was overlooked. Despite his injuries, the old man had got to his feet and staggered down to the bottom of the field, where he met a person who went to help him. He kept repeating, ‘Two men, two men…’ Incredibly this brave old man, with the assistance of his rescuer, returned home and a surgeon was sent for. Mr Hey, the surgeon, arrived between 8 p.m. and 9 p.m. and attended to the old man who was, by then, insensible. He died at 1.40 a.m. on the following morning.

  Normington’s defence, Mr C. Foster, maintained that his client was innocent of the murder, but guilty of pawning the watch of the dead man. However, the evidence against Normington was too strong and the jury took only fifteen minutes to find him guilty. As the judge donned the black cap, there was a heart rending shriek from a woman, later identified as Normington’s mother. The sound echoed throughout the courtroom, and she had to be physically restrained and removed. On hearing the outcome of the case, the prisoner, who had kept a calm demeanour throughout the trial, collapsed into the arms of York Castle’s deputy governor, Mr Green.

  When Normington was put in the condemned cell, he became extremely upset and started to cry. As a result of his distress, he was visited by Mr Green, who advised him to make full use of the time he had left to write out a true confession. He told Mr Green that he had indeed killed the old man, and that he had hit him several times, until he fell on the ground. He still maintained that he was not alone and the other unnamed man had kicked Broughton whilst he was down. His confession stated that he had not known the other man until the day of the murder and didn’t know his name. He stated that after the attack on the old man, his companion opened the waistcoat, but it was Normington who had taken out the watch. He said that he had met his companion the following day at 9 a.m. near the Marsh Lane station, in order to pawn the watch. They had gone into three pawnshops before successfully pawning the watch, and he had given the man 3s and kept the remainder for himself. They had then parted. Normington wrote that he had not seen the man since.

  The next day, after writing out his confession, Normington was visited by his mother at the castle and she also begged him to tell the truth. He replied, ‘I have; I have told Mr Green all about it.’ Mr Green, who was present at this interview, confirmed that he had a written confession which the boy had signed.

  Whilst in York Castle Prison, Normington dictated a series of letters while one of the wardens wrote them out for him. It had been reported that he had spent most of his life with his mother in Leeds whilst his father lived in Bradford. The couple had parted due to his father refusing to put up with the profligate life that his son had led. The letters indicate the strength of the condemned man’s religious feelings. The one to his mother is particularly heart-rending:

  York Castle, 20 December 1859

  My dear mother,

  I send you these few lines and I sincerely hope they will find you in good health. I am glad to tell you that I am quite well and my mind is quite easy; and I can assure you that I do not fear my fate, for I put all my trust in the Lord Jesus Christ. I hope, dear Mother, that you will not fret, but pray for me, and believe me I have quite resigned myself and do not dread the hour so fast approaching. I pray the Lord to give me strength here and peace hereafter. Therefore, dear mother, do not fret for me. I can assure you, I feel very happy in my mind and hope and believe that I shall soon be in everlasting happiness and rest, for believe me, I fear nothing, trusting entirely in the Lord. I hope you will pray unto Him, and that you will be saved, and enjoy eternal happiness. This, dear mother, is my sincere prayer for you and it is hoped we shall meet again in the Kingdom of Heaven, where we shall be far happier than here in the world of trouble. I think of all of my friends, and pray for you all and hope you will all do the same for me.

  I remain, dear Mother,

  Your affectionate son,

  CHARLES NORMINGTON

  In a second letter, written to his father, Normington castigated him for leaving his mother and himself to fend for themselves. He wrote the letter on 28 December and in it he tells his father that he has just had a last meeting with his mother:

  You know what a great sin you have committed by leaving my mother and your family to the wide world in the way you did. Dear Father, I could die now content if I thought you and mother would live together again. I pray for you, and I forgive you, and I hope God will forgive you.

  Two more letters were written before the day of his execution arrived. There was another to his mother, asking her once again to pray for him. The second was to his aunt and uncle, asking them to do the same.

  On Saturday, 31 December 1859, Normington was visited in his cell by the Reverend Thomas Myers and the prison chaplain. The two ministers spent the last hour that Normington would have on this earth by his side. They read part of the scriptures to him and sung
hymns, to which the warders joined in. Just before noon, the sacrament was administered to him. The hangman, Askern, then entered the cell and pinioned the young man’s arms behind his back before he was led out to the scaffold. It was reported that Normington walked onto the scaffold with a firm step and appeared composed as he knelt to say his last prayers. Before a crowd of between 9,000 and 10,000 people, Normington called out, ‘Lord, have mercy on my soul.’ Askern then adjusted the fatal noose and withdrew the bolt. It was reported that his struggles were not severe and lasted only two minutes. These kinds of executions were a celebrated day out for many people of the Victorian period. Although horrific to modern-day minds, notorious murderers, like William Palmer, would attract crowds of spectators, men and woman alike.

  Case Eight

  Attempted Murder of

  a Shopkeeper

  The Trial of John Kenworthy, 1860

  This next case is another that leaves us with more questions than answers. We know that a shopkeeper was attacked, but the motive is difficult to ascertain, as it was evidently not for gain.

  In the nineteenth century, it was quite easy to go into business as a shopkeeper. You just filled up the windows with some of the stock for sale and opened the front door to customers. One of the drawbacks, however, was that customers tended to call on you at all hours of the day and night. It was while dealing with an early morning customer that this shopkeeper almost met his end.

  Stephen Lupton, aged 29, was a single man who owned a shop, which was situated on the corner of Oldforth Street and Cross Street, New Wortley, near Leeds. The shop was typical of its time; it had the shop part at the front of the house and his living area at the back.

  Twenty-five-year-old John Kenworthy was a married man and lived in Campbell Street, which was about 300 yards from Lupton’s shop. The shop sold basic provisions, such as groceries, castor oil and a few drugs. On Monday 8 October 1860, Lupton was woken at five o’clock by someone banging on his door. He opened his bedroom window and saw Kenworthy. He shouted down to him, asking him what he wanted, and Kenworthy shouted back that he wanted some castor oil. Patiently, Lupton put on his trousers, socks and slippers, and went downstairs to let him into the shop. As he lit a candle in order to see the transactions, he asked Kenworthy why he wanted castor oil at that time of the morning, enquiring whether his wife was ill. (Kenworthy’s wife worked for Lupton as a cleaner two days a week.) Kenworthy told him that the castor oil was needed for a woman ‘up the street’, but he did not give her name. He said he had tried to wake another shopkeeper that morning, but to no avail. Kenworthy gave Lupton a small bottle and asked him how much castor oil he could get in it. Lupton told him that it would probably hold about two ounces and he went through to the house section and filled the bottle. Going back into the shop, he put the bottle onto the counter and then Kenworthy asked him for some mint lozenges. Lupton told him they were a penny an ounce, and Kenworthy requested two ounces. Lupton weighed out the mint lozenges and gave them to Kenworthy. To his astonishment, Kenworthy then asked for two ounces of arrowroot, two penny worth of nitre and a pound of pearl barley. This patient man turned to get the items and, being about 2 yards away from Kenworthy, felt a heavy blow on the crown of his head. He fell to his knees and almost immediately felt a second blow. During the attack, Kenworthy had not spoken a word to him.

  The candle blew out as Lupton staggered to his feet, and the two men struggled together in the dark. The pair, who by now were at the bottom of the stairs leading to the bedrooms, scuffled together for some time. Suddenly, Kenworthy sank his teeth into Lupton’s nose, who retaliated by biting his opponent’s finger. Finally, Lupton managed to break free from Kenworthy and, bleeding profusely and utterly exhausted, managed to pull himself into the shop section of the house. By now, Kenworthy had run upstairs and Lupton heard him moving from room to room, as if he was ransacking the place. Lupton tried to open the shop door to get into the street, but was unable to, so he went towards the door which led into a small warehouse, where he kept his stock. Almost dropping down the three or four steps from the warehouse into the street, he managed to crawl outside. He shouted ‘Murder!’ at the top of his voice and Mrs Mary Ann Horner, a widow whose house adjoined the shop, came outside. Seeing the distressed man she rushed to help him up.

  At that point the door of the shop opened and Kenworthy stood there. She told him, ‘You are the man that has done this and you will pay dearly for it.’ Kenworthy shouted something back in return, but she didn’t hear what it was. She then tried to help the injured man, who by now was covered in so much blood that she couldn’t actually see where he had been injured. Another neighbour, Mr Thackeray, came to help and the two of them managed to get Lupton back into the house and seated on a chair. The two neighbours were horrified at the amount of blood in the shop, the parlour, the hallway and the warehouse. When they cleaned the poor man up, they saw the wound on his head, which appeared to have been made by a very sharp implement. Whilst searching the shop section, they found a hatchet under a chair, which was later proved to belong to Kenworthy.

  A surgeon, Mr W. Scott, was sent for and, on arrival, he ordered that the injured man be sent to bed. On shaving Lupton’s head, he found five separate scalp wounds, several superficial scratches on his face and a mark on his nose. On the crown of his head was there a fracture on the left-hand side. Three of the wounds on his head had been inflicted with a blunt-edged instrument, used with great force. Mr W. Scott then inspected the hatchet, which was found to have blood on it as well as hairs from Lupton’s scalp. Kenworthy was also examined, and a wound on his thumb was discovered, closely resembling a bite mark.

  A constable, PC John Scott, was called and took the details from the victim and the neighbours when he arrived. He went to arrest Kenworthy later that morning, who claimed that he was innocent and denied being anywhere near the shop. He was taken to the police station and placed in a cell, where unruly prisoners could be tied to a seat by their manacles. Kenworthy made a statement and, following this, PC Scott went to Kenworthy’s mother’s house at Beeston Royds where, armed with a search warrant, he investigated the house. Kenworthy had told him that morning he had been to his mother’s house, and a lodger, George Gibbons, had given him a fresh coat and waistcoat before leaving the house to go home. Gibbons told PC Scott that Kenworthy was about to move back in with his mother, as it was nearer to his place of employment. He added that when he saw him and lent him the coat, he seemed quite ‘normal’.

  Scott found the discarded waistcoat, which still had spots of blood on it, hidden in Kenworthy’s mother’s bed, underneath the mattress. The fustian waistcoat was identified by the tailor named Paget at Wakefield, as being the one he made for Kenworthy. PC Scott also found a sign of burnt clothing in one of the bedrooms in the mother’s house. Scott then went to the house where Kenworthy lived with his wife, where he found a torn collar, a hat and a bloody towel. Kenworthy’s wife told him that she had already pawned a pair of trousers and a hat which Kenworthy had been wearing that day. She had taken them to the shop of a pawnbroker on Whittington Street. The trousers were recovered and they were found to have bloodstains on them too, as was his hat.

  Meanwhile, Kenworthy was taken to be identified by Lupton, who stated that this was indeed his attacker. Mrs Horner, also present, identified him as the man who was last seen running out of the shop as well. She told him, ‘You’re the villain. I told you that you would suffer for this.’ In front of both Lupton and Mrs Horner, PC Scott said to him, ‘Now you see what you are charged with, what have you to say for yourself?’ But insolently, Kenworthy persisted in his denial. When Scott returned back to the police station, he found that one of the cleaners, a Mrs Jane Blanchard, had found a bent, bloodstained knife whilst sweeping the charge room. The knife appeared to have been kicked out of sight under a chair, in the same room the prisoner had been placed after he had been charged. The reason for the robbery was unclear, as a watch and some money were found in Lupton’s b
edroom untouched. The Leeds Mercury suggested that the prisoner might have had some questions around his wife’s chastity, and the reason for ransacking the bedroom was not for plunder, but to find any evidence to his wife’s supposed infidelity.

  On Thursday, 20 December 1860, Kenworthy appeared at the Assizes before Mr Justice Hill, charged with the attempted murder of Stephen Lupton on Monday 8 October. The prisoner was defended by Mr Maule; Mr Foster and Mr Hanney were for the prosecution. The first witness to take the stand was Lupton, whose head was still bandaged from the ordeal. He re-iterated the circumstances of the vicious attack and positively identified Kenworthy as the attacker.

  Mrs Horner followed him in the witness box and told the jury that her bedroom adjoined that of the victim, and she was awoken by the prisoner shouting to Lupton, stating that he needed some oil. She also heard Lupton get out of bed and open the front door, letting Kenworthy into the shop. She heard the scuffle, as well as a heavy fall, followed by a cry of ‘Murder!’ Hastily dressing, she ran out of the house to find Lupton in the street, badly injured. She also positively identified Kenworthy as the man who came out of the shop that morning. After she had given her evidence, she was praised by the judge for her courage in standing up to the attacker.

  The next witness was the police inspector, Mr English, who told the court that he had twenty of his best men on the case at the time and was convinced of the prisoner’s guilt. Kenworthy’s employer, Mr Daniel Bazendale of the Farnley Iron Company, identified the axe used in the attack as one which had been stolen from his workplace about six months previously. He told the jury that few men had access to the stores where the axe had been kept, but Kenworthy had enjoyed that privilege. He stated that the prisoner had worked for him for almost eleven years.