Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in Reading

by John J Eddleston

  George Wiggins – Hanged 18 March 1820, for highway robbery

  Daniel Grimshaw – Hanged 4 March 1824, for murder

  William Giles – Hanged 28 May 1827, for uttering a forged document

  Samuel Wright – Hanged 22 March 1828, for shooting a gun at a person

  Henry Burnett – Hanged alongside Wright, above, for the same offence

  Thomas Field – Also hanged alongside Wright, for the same offence

  William Winterburn – Hanged 11 January 1831, for riot

  Edward Green – Hanged 4 August 1832, for burglary

  Thomas Lincoln – Hanged alongside Green, above, for the same offence

  James Morris – Also hanged alongside Green, for the same offence

  John Carter – Hanged 16 March 1833, for arson

  George King – Hanged 3 March 1834, for murder

  Thomas Jennings – Hanged 22 March 1845, for murder

  William Spicer – Hanged 20 March 1846, for murder

  John Gould – Hanged 14 March 1862, for murder

  Private Executions

  All eight executions within Reading prison were for murder and none were for crimes actually committed within the town itself. The details are:

  Francis and Henry Tidbury – 12 March 1877

  In the early hours of 11 December 1876, Constable Thomas Golby was patrolling a lonely lane in Hungerford when he found the dead body of a brother officer, Constable Shorter, at the entrance to some woods.

  Having attracted the attention of a local gamekeeper, Golby then went to the police station to report what he had found. There he was informed that Inspector Drewatt had also been in that area and had not reported back to the station. A search was then organised to find the missing officer. Eventually, his body was also found, not far from Constable Shorter’s. Both men had been shot.

  When officers spoke to the gamekeeper, he reported that he had seen two local men, William Day and William Tidbury, leaving the woods soon after Constable Golby had gone for help. These two men were well known in the locale as poachers and very soon they were placed under arrest, along with two other known members of their gang: Francis Tidbury and Henry Tidbury, both brothers of William.

  The clothing of all four men bore traces of blood and when their boots were checked, they were seen to match impressions left at the scene of the two shootings. The final piece of evidence was a cap, belonging to Henry Tidbury, found beneath the body of Inspector Drewatt.

  The trial of the four men took place on 19 February 1877, before Mister Justice Lindsay. In the meantime, Henry Tidbury had made a full confession claiming that he and his brother Francis had shot the two officers whilst the two other poachers were outside the woods. He explained that they had taken two pheasants and were on their way home, when they were stopped by Inspector Drewatt. They knew that he had recognised them so shot him dead in order to make good their escape. Just minutes later, Constable Shorter came upon the scene so they had little alternative but to shoot him too.

  None of the four defendants managed to escape punishment. William Day and William Tidbury were both sent to prison whilst the other two were sentenced to death. Francis Tidbury was hanged on his twenty-seventh birthday, alongside his twenty-four-year-old brother.

  John Carter – 5 December 1893

  Carter lived with his third wife at Bronledge Farm, Watchfield, near Farringdon. On the night of 20 June 1893, Carter’s son heard loud banging and the sound of an argument, coming from his parents’ bedroom. The next morning, Carter told his son that he was not allowed to enter the bedroom and it was obvious that something had been burnt in the fireplace.

  It was then that Carter began to tell people that his wife had gone to stay with some relatives. This, added to what the son had heard the previous night, raised suspicions and the police were informed that something might well have happened to Mrs Carter. A search of the farm was made, and there officers found the body of Mrs Carter buried beneath the washroom floor. She had been beaten to death and her body then burned.

  Faced with this evidence, Carter then surprised the officers by admitting to not one murder, but two. He made a full confession stating that the body of his missing second wife was also buried within the house. In due course, her skeleton was recovered and, after the formality of a trial, Carter was hanged in December.

  Charles Thomas Wooldridge – 7 July 1896

  Wooldridge’s crime was nothing out of the ordinary; another story of unrequited love and jealousy ending in murder. It lives on, not because of his actions, but because of a long poem, written by another inmate of the prison, where he finally paid the penalty for what he had done.

  Wooldridge was a soldier, serving in the Royal Horse Guards at Windsor and it was there that he met his future wife, Laura Glendell, who worked at the post office in the High Street, Eton. As a soldier, Wooldridge required his commanding officer’s permission to marry, but failed to obtain this. As a result, he and Laura married in secret and Laura continued to use her maiden name.

  The couple lived at 21 Alma Terrace, Arthur Road, Windsor but the love match soon proved to be something else, for Wooldridge had a violent temper, especially when he was in drink. Then came another problem in the form of a posting for Wooldridge, to Regent’s Park in London. Since he had not received permission to marry, the army did not recognise his union with Laura, and so she was unable to accompany him to the capital. The parting was not on the best of terms and soon afterwards, Laura began seeing another soldier, a corporal in the Life Guards.

  Wooldridge knew nothing of this new emotional attachment, and believed that it was only a matter of time before he and Laura would be back together again. On Sunday 29 March 1896, he made an arrangement to meet her outside his barracks in London, but Laura failed to attend. Soon after this he heard, from a friend, that Laura was seeing someone else. As far as Wooldridge was concerned, that was the final straw.

  That same day, 29 March, Wooldridge borrowed a cut-throat razor from another soldier and made the trip back to Windsor. There he called at 21 Alma Terrace, saying that he needed her to sign some papers. Laura let her husband into the house and immediately he drew out the razor and slashed her throat.

  The stricken woman managed to rush out into the street but Wooldridge followed her, caught up with her and slashed her throat twice more. As a crowd gathered around the scene, Wooldridge calmly gave himself up to the first police officer on the scene, Constable Henry Miles, with the words: ‘Take me, I have killed my wife.’

  Convicted of murder, Wooldridge was sent to Reading to await his execution. There, one day whilst he was on exercise, he was seen by a fellow prisoner, Oscar Wilde, who would later pen the famous poem, The Ballad of Reading Gaol, which he would dedicate to Wooldridge. Wilde wrote in his poem:

  And each man kills the thing he loves

  By each let this be heard,

  Some do it with a bitter look,

  Some with a flattering word,

  The coward does it with a kiss,

  The brave man with a sword

  Charles Scott – 28 November 1899

  In some ways, Scott’s crime was similar to Wooldridge’s but no poem exists to immortalise it.

  Scott and his wife also lived in Windsor and both were addicted to drink. On 2 September 1899, they went out drinking together and an argument ensued. At one stage, Scott drew out a razor and slashed his wife’s throat. Like Wooldridge he then waited calmly until a police constable appeared, and gave himself up. He was hanged, in November, by James Billington.

  William George Thomas Charles Austin – 5 November 1907

  On Tuesday 16 July 1907, thirteen-year-old Unity Annie Butler returned to school at 1.30pm after having her lunch at home, 5 Cranbourne Terrace, Clewer, Windsor.

  Later that same day, at around 5.30pm, Unity’s father, William, arrived home from work to find his lodger, William Austin, busily polishing his boots. There was no sign of Unity in the house, but her father assumed she had simpl
y gone on an errand with her mother. At around 6.00pm, Austin left the house, but returned after a few minutes to collect his bicycle. He then rode away, never to return to Cranbourne Terrace.

  It was almost 11.00pm when Mrs Butler finally arrived home and clearly, Unity was not with her. A search was organised and it did not take long to find the missing child. Her partially clothed and strangled body was found underneath William Austin’s bed.

  The police investigation soon found a witness. Ludwig Poegell, a neighbour, said that he had heard screams coming from the Butlers’ house, at 4.30pm. It was now imperative to find the missing lodger, William Austin, who also used the name William Saunders.

  In fact, Austin had been seen, earlier that night, at 9.30pm, by a friend of his, Walter West. Austin seemed to be rather upset and when West asked him what the problem was, Austin replied that he had committed a crime and the only way out now was for him to drown himself. He would not tell West what the crime actually was but once West heard about Unity’s murder, he contacted the police and told them what he had seen.

  Austin was traced and arrested. Taken to the police station, he was searched as a matter of routine and officers found a letter, addressed to Unity’s parents, apologising for what he had done to their daughter. It was as good as a written confession.

  Austin’s trial took place on 14 October, before Mister Justice Jelf and here the defence tried to claim that Unity had been rather ‘fast’. Apparently she had often spent time in Austin’s room when they were alone in the house and had sat on his bed, seeming to entice him.

  On the day of the attack, Unity had sneered at Austin and called him names. He lost his temper, grabbed her and, before he knew what was happening, he had taken a piece of rope and strangled her. This did not explain, however, how some of Unity’s clothing had been removed.

  The jury had little difficulty in returning a guilty verdict, and Austin was hanged, on Bonfire night, by Henry and Thomas Pierrepoint.

  William Broome – 24 November 1910

  Seventy-year-old Isabella Wilson ran a second-hand clothes shop from 22 High Street, Slough and was well known to her neighbours and fellow shopkeepers.

  On Friday 15 July 1910, one of those neighbours, Mrs White, had something she wished to talk to Isabella about. It was 7.00pm when Mrs White walked towards the shop but there was a bicycle parked against the window. It was clear that Isabella had a customer and Mrs White did not wish to discuss her business in front of a stranger so she decided to leave things until later.

  At 8.00pm, Mrs White returned. The bicycle had gone and, going into the shop, Mrs White called out for her friend. There was no reply, for there, on the floor in the sitting-room, at the back of the shop, lay the body of Isabella Wilson.

  At first the police believed that Isabella had been strangled but a subsequent post-mortem revealed that she had actually been smothered. Isabella had been struck a number of times, bound and gagged, and a cushion forced into her mouth. That cushion had prevented her from breathing and led directly to her death.

  The motive for the crime was easy to detect. Isabella had been in the habit of wrapping her gold coins in paper and then stuffing them into her purse. That purse was now empty but close by lay a piece of paper that bore the impression of nineteen coins: seventeen large and two small. Those impressions were the size of sovereigns and half sovereigns.

  Other shopkeepers in the area were questioned and they told of a man seen loitering around Isabella’s shop at around 1.00pm. Further, some of the shopkeepers were able to recall that at one stage this man had been a lodger at the premises next door to the shop. It was easy, therefore, to put a name to him: William Broome who also used the name Brooks.

  Further investigations revealed that Broome was now living in London but when he was interviewed he denied being in Slough on the day Isabella had met her death. Unfortunately, the officers noticed that there were two parallel scratches on Broome’s face, which might well have been caused by fingernails. Asked to explain them, Broome said he had been in a fight in Camden Town on Saturday 10 July. Nevertheless, Broome was cautioned and a search of his rooms carried out. There police found nineteen sovereigns and two half-sovereigns. Broome was arrested and charged with murder.

  At first, Broome stuck to his claim that he had not been in Slough on the day of the murder. He said he had been out looking for work from around 10.20am until 1.00pm. Then he had gone to the Trafalgar public house in St Martin’s Lane where he had some bread and cheese for lunch. From there he went to 146 Albany Street, where he read a newspaper before going back to his lodgings.

  The police investigation was certainly a thorough one and this led to two chemists being traced. The first, who had an establishment at Paddington station, said that Broome had called at some time before 3.00pm asking for a lotion that might remove scratches from his face. The second, who traded from Oxford Street, said that Broome came in at 5.00pm where he bought a lotion and some cotton wool.

  The witnesses, who said they had seen Broome in Slough, were spoken to again and confirmed that he had no scratches on his face at 1.00pm. Finally, Anna Lextus, Broome’s landlady, said she had seen Broome after 5.00pm on 15 July and had remarked on the scratches on his face. Broome had joked that he hoped people didn’t think he had been robbing an old lady of her money.

  All this evidence was put before Broome, who now made a second statement. In this he claimed that he had caught a train from Paddington to Windsor intending to visit the headquarters of the Yeomanry, for which he was a reservist. That building was closed so he went on to Slough, where he arrived some time between noon and 1.00pm. He had not, however, robbed or killed Isabella Wilson.

  Broome’s trial took place at Aylesbury on 14 October before Mister Justice Bucknill and lasted for two days. At that trial, the defence missed picking up on one vitally important piece of evidence.

  Throughout the proceedings the prosecution referred again and again to the piece of paper found at the crime scene and claimed that the gold coins found in Broome’s lodgings matched this number exactly. However, the paper had borne nineteen impressions; presumably of seventeen sovereigns and two halves but nineteen sovereigns and two halves had been found in London. It was true that Broome may well have stolen the coins from Isabella and had two sovereigns of his own but this was not the point. The prosecution claimed that the match was exact.

  Despite this, and other possible doubts about the case, Broome was found guilty of murder and executed on Thursday 24 November by John Ellis and William Willis.

  Eric James Sedgewick – 4 February 1913

  Twenty-two-year-old Annie Wentworth Davis was working in Cotton Hall House, Eton Wick Road, Eton, for the second time in her young life. Her first period of employment there had ended in December 1907 but in August 1912 she had returned. There she became very friendly with another servant, Edith Alice Armstrong. The two young ladies chatted about all the different aspects of their lives and one of the things Annie told Edith about was the man in her life: twenty-nine-year-old Eric Sedgewick.

  Annie said she had first met Eric in January 1908. He had been a soldier but had been discharged, on 4 February 1902, with an excellent record. Annie, however, had her concerns and she told Edith that she had seen another side to Eric; a rather volatile temper.

  The household at Cotton Hall House soon saw some evidence of this temper for themselves. In October 1912, Eric sent Annie a telegram saying that he was coming to Eton from London, where he lived, and would meet her. Unfortunately he had not waited for a reply because Annie was busy with her duties and couldn’t simply leave without permission. As a consequence, she was not at the arranged rendezvous and Eric duly appeared at Cotton Hall House, clearly in the most furious of tempers.

  On 10 November, Eric travelled up to Eton again and this time the couple did meet. Immediately afterwards, Edith Armstrong and others noticed a change in Annie. Though she did not tell her friends what the problem was, correspondence between Annie
and Eric, found later by the police, would tell the whole story.

  On that visit, Annie had apparently surrendered herself to Eric for the first time. However, that very same night, Eric had also confessed to Annie that he had been unfaithful to her. She brooded on the matter that night and the following morning wrote to Eric to tell him that it was over between them. She also told her friend, Edith, that Eric had told her something which would worry her to her grave.

  Eric tried his best to rekindle the relationship. He wrote to Annie on 19 November saying that he loved her dearly. She thought about this for some days before replying, on 23 November, saying that she hadn’t changed her mind and confirming that it was all over.

  The following day, Sunday 24 November 1912, Eric travelled from London to Eton. He arrived at Cotton Hall House at 3.50pm and it was Edith who answered the door when he rang the bell. At his request, she went to tell Annie that Eric was there. Annie, knowing that Eric had a temper, seemed frightened and asked Edith if she would go back downstairs with her. Edith did as her friend asked but, when they had all been together for a few minutes and Eric still seemed calm, Edith left them alone in the servant’s hall.

  Edith returned to her own duties in the kitchen. Then, after some minutes, she went back into the servant’s hall where she found, to her horror, Annie slumped in a chair with blood pouring from a wound in her left breast. Eric was standing over her shouting hysterically: ‘She’s not dead! She’s not dead!’ As other servants rushed to take Eric from the room he was heard to cry: ‘For God’s sake, can’t somebody stop the bleeding?’

  Annie did not recover from her wound and Eric was duly arrested and charged with her murder. He appeared before Mister Justice Bankes, at Aylesbury, on 15 January 1913 and was found guilty of wilful murder. He was hanged on Tuesday 4 February, by John Ellis and George Brown, and became the last man to ever be executed at Reading. It was eleven years to the day since Eric Sedgewick had received his honourable discharge from the army.

  CHAPTER 4

  A New Life Ada Jane Cook 1918