Sarah Ann Smith lived next door, at 24 Swinbrook Road. She was awake at the time of the argument and was looking out of her bedroom window. She saw the window open at number 22 and Mary coming out of it, feet first. Mary was fully dressed at the time and, once she was outside, she held on to a flower box on the window ledge, for some minutes. Then, perhaps growing tired, or fearful that Leonard was coming for her, Mary let go and fell to the ground. Sarah dashed downstairs to see if she could offer any help and found Mary lying on the ground, bleeding from wounds in her hand and her head.
William Davies was a grocer and operated his business from 48 Swinbrook Road. He too heard the commotion and went down into the street to see what was going on. He found Mary lying near a window sill on the ground floor, moaning loudly and apparently in great pain.
The two police officers, whom Robert Mumford had found, were Constable Jesse Betts and Constable Frederick Hunt. It was Betts who attended to the injured woman and Mary had said to him, ‘He struck me on the head with his fist, and I got out of the window of my own accord, to escape his violence.’ Betts then left the stricken woman with some of her neighbours whilst he ran for the doctor.
Constable Hunt had gone up to Leonard’s rooms, to arrest him. As he entered the room Leonard said, ‘Well, I suppose you have come after me.’ Hunt replied, ‘Yes, I shall charge you with assaulting your wife,’ to which Leonard replied, ‘Yes, I know I have done wrong, but it is all through jealousy.’
Inspector Francis James Waite was on duty at the Harrow Road police station, when the prisoner was brought in. As details of the charge were being read out by Constable Hunt, Leonard interrupted and said, ‘She said she would jump out of the window, but I did not believe her, as she has said it many times before.’
Inspector Waite was also present at the hospital, as Mary made her deposition just before she died. In one part of her statement Mary had said that she told Leonard, ‘You shall not have the satisfaction of killing me; I’ll do it myself.’ It was Waite who later amended the charge against Leonard to one of manslaughter, after Mary had died.
The final witness was Dr Frederick John Orchard Stevenson, of St Mary’s Hospital. He had treated Mary and also performed a post-mortem on 7 October. The cause of death had been lockjaw, brought on by the wound she had suffered in her head.
The prosecution argued that Mary had died from lockjaw, a disease that had been caused by one of her wounds. That wound had been caused by a fall from the window and, since Mary had only left her lodgings through that window to escape Leonard’s wrath, he was directly responsible for her death. The jury agreed and Leonard was found guilty.
For that offence of manslaughter, Owen Leonard received a sentence of fifteen years in prison.
Chapter 21
John Noble
1892
Eliza Stewart retired to her bed at some time between 9.00pm and 9.30pm on the night of 4 February 1892. By 11.00pm, she was in a deep sleep but a strident knocking at her door at 100 North Street, Chelsea woke her from her slumbers. The caller was the man who lodged in the rooms downstairs, John Noble.
Noble did not mince his words. As a weary-eyed Eliza opened the door he announced, ‘Will you come down. Elizabeth is dead.’ Then, as if that were not enough, he added, ‘I have cut her throat.’
The ‘Elizabeth’, who Noble was referring to was his partner, forty-year-old Mary Elizabeth Swift, a woman who preferred to use her middle name. Elizabeth had already been married twice; her first husband having died and her second having left her in 1871. She had been living with Noble for the past four or five months.
Eliza Stewart did not have time to go down to see what had happened to Elizabeth Swift, for almost immediately the police, in the form of Constable George Osborn, arrived on the scene. Elizabeth had not actually been attacked in their rooms downstairs, but in the Friend in Hand public house. A brother officer had alerted Osborn and he had now gone to number 100, to arrest the man who, witnesses said, had attacked her.
When Constable Osborn arrested Noble he asked if Elizabeth were dead. Told that she was, he replied, ‘Poor dear. This is all through jealousy. It has been going on for some time.’ Later that same night, Noble was formally charged with murder.
Just over one month later, on 7 March, John Noble appeared in court to answer that charge. Mr Charles Matthews and Mr Horace Avory acted for the Crown, whilst Noble was defended by Mr Thompson and Mr Bond.
Emma Smith testified that the dead woman was her sister. Having confirmed something of Elizabeth’s past life, Emma stated that she had last seen her sister alive at 2.00pm on the day she had been attacked. At the time, Elizabeth was sober and in good health.
Eliza Mills was a shopkeeper, who traded from premises at 89 North Street but she was also a close friend of the dead woman. She testified that at some time between 5.30pm and 5.45pm, Elizabeth had called at her home, to be followed some ten minutes later by the prisoner. At 7.00pm, Eliza, John, Elizabeth and another friend, went to the Hope and Anchor public house for a drink. Soon afterwards they went to a number of other establishments, ending up at the Cranley Arms.
It was at that latter house that the barman called out, ‘Is there anyone of the name Noble here?’ John Noble had identified himself and the barman then told him that there was a lady in the next room, who wished to speak to him. Noble then spoke to someone over a partition that separated the two rooms, whereupon Elizabeth Swift shouted, ‘That is another of your beautiful women I suppose.’
Despite the obvious atmosphere that now existed between Elizabeth and Noble, the group all moved on to the Enterprise, but after one drink, Noble left them there and the group only met up with him again, some time later, in Beauchamp Place. Eliza Mills finally left Noble and Elizabeth at the corner of North Street, assumed they were on their way home, and bade them good night.
Lilly Warner was another resident of 100 North Street and she heard someone coming into the house at around 10.45pm on the fateful night. Though she could not say with certainty who it was, the person did go into the rooms occupied by Noble and Elizabeth and very soon afterwards, Lilly heard Noble say, ‘You shan’t go out of this house tonight.’ A scuffle followed, and the front door then slammed shut. Finally, Lilly heard a scream and upon going outside, saw a group of people around the Friend in Hand. Going to investigate, Lilly saw Elizabeth’s body lying on the ground nearby.
Philip Mills lived in Marlborough Road, but at around 11.00pm on 4 February, he was walking down North Street, when he saw a woman rush out of number 100. She ran to him, caught hold of his arm and tried to speak to Philip but a gaping wound in her throat meant that she could not speak. Almost immediately, Noble followed her out of the house and shouted, ‘Now you can bleed.’ Elizabeth then ran off into the Friend in Hand and fell on the floor, near the entrance.
Robert Cribble was the barman at the Friend in Hand and he told the court that Elizabeth had run into the bar, bleeding badly from the throat. She ran up to the counter and tried to say something but was unable to form any words. Moments later, Noble appeared in the doorway and seeing him there, Elizabeth tried to push past him. Noble reacted by striking her in the side of the head and she fell to the floor in the doorway.
That blow was also seen by John Cutler, who was in the bar at the time. Seeing that Elizabeth was in dire need of assistance, it was Cutler who ran for the doctor.
The first police officer on the scene was Constable Horace Alcock. He had heard someone shout ‘Police!’ and dashed to the scene. It was Alcock who tried to staunch the bleeding before the doctor arrived.
Doctor Charles Ashley Scott Leggatt found Elizabeth lying on the floor in the bar of the Friend in Hand; she had been carried inside by some of the witnesses to the affair. The unfortunate woman died within two minutes of Dr Leggatt’s arrival. Having later performed the post-mortem, Dr Leggatt was able to describe a wound some five inches in length and down to the vertebrae of the spine. The wound would have required great force to inflict.
With so much evidence against him, the jury could only really reach one verdict. Finding Noble guilty of murder, they did, however, add a strong recommendation to mercy on account of the provocation they believed he had suffered from Elizabeth.
It did nothing to save Noble’s life and he was hanged at Newgate on 29 March, less than two months after he had taken Mary Elizabeth Swift’s life.
Chapter 22
Walter Hosler
1892
It had been a pleasant enough night in the Bedford Arms public house in Bedford Gardens, Kensington. That was, if anything, to be expected, as it was Christmas Eve,
At some time between 6.00pm and 7.00pm, the landlord, William Thomas Tilbury, saw one of his regular customers, Walter Hosler, enter the public bar and order himself a pint of beer. Sometime after this, another regular, Dennis Finnessey, entered the same bar. Hosler, noticing Finnessey shouted, ‘Here is my old enemy’, to which Finnessey replied, ‘Yes, that is quite right.’
William Tilbury kept an eye on the two men, in case the discussion escalated and he might have to intervene in order to keep the peace. Fortunately, although there did seem to be a good deal of animosity between the two, the harsh words did not become a physical fight. However, after some time, Tilbury did hear the two men agree to meet on Boxing Day, so that they could fight. Soon afterwards, Hosler left the bar to be followed, within a minute, by Finnessey.
No more than ten minutes passed before a man rushed in and shouted that someone had been stabbed outside. Tilbury dashed into the street to find Finnessey standing in front of the pub window, bleeding profusely from a wound in his neck. There was no sign of Walter Hosler.
Rushed to St Mary’s Hospital, Dennis Finnessey was treated for a stab wound to his throat. It was all to no avail and he died later that same night. Hosler, who had been taken into custody on a charge of assault, was now charged with wilful murder.
Walter Hosler appeared at the Old Bailey on 15 January 1893, before Mr Justice Grantham. For the defence, Mr Drake admitted that his client was responsible for Finnessey’s death, but claimed that since he had acted in self-defence, the charge should be reduced to manslaughter. That, of course, was for the jury to decide.
Edward Kitt told the court that at some time between 9.30pm and 10.00pm on 24 December, he had been walking along the end of Bedford Gardens and was about to turn into Silver Street, when he saw one man outside the public house and a second standing just around the corner. The man, who he now knew to be Finnessey, was in Silver Street, whilst Hosler was in Bedford Gardens.
Kitt heard Hosler call for Finnessey by name and, as he turned, Hosler appeared to hit him in the neck. A brief struggle followed before Finnessey staggered back against the Bedford Arms, whilst Hosler dashed off up Silver Street. Kitt wasted no time in finding a constable.
David Bryan was inside the Bedford Arms and left a few minutes after Finnessey and Hosler. He found Finnessey outside, holding his hand to his neck and leaning against a window. As the blood spurted from between his fingers, Finnessey was able to say that Hosler had attacked him and gone off up Silver Street. Bryan looked down the street and saw Hosler, who was by now walking, in Silver Street and ran after him. Catching him up, Bryan had said, ‘Walter, you have stabbed a man; come back with me.’ A brief struggle followed, but Hosler was soon subdued and Bryan then escorted him back.
Jonathan Skipmore was another of the customers inside the public house and, after hearing the commotion outside, had gone to see what was happening. He too saw Finnessey, bleeding from a wound in the left side of his neck. By now he was very faint and hardly able to stand.
Constable Thomas Moriarty had been told, by Edward Kitt, that a man had been stabbed outside the Bedford Arms. He went to the scene with a brother officer, Constable George Taylor. They saw Finnessey, in a state of collapse, still bleeding badly and it was Taylor who escorted him to the hospital. At the time, Hosler was being held between David Bryan and the landlord, William Tilbury, who handed over a knife, which he had confiscated from Hosler. As the officer spoke to him, Hosler remarked, ‘It is my knife. I told him if he hit me again, I would stick him. This is the third time he has set on me.’
Dr Atwood Thorn was the doctor on duty at St Mary’s Hospital, when Finnessey was brought in at some time before 10.00pm. There was a very deep, penetrating wound on the left side of Finnessey’s neck. The wound was at least three inches deep and had severed some of the major veins in the neck. Despite treatment, Finnessey died eighty minutes later, from loss of blood.
Hosler had, by now, changed his story. It was true that there was bad blood between him and Finnessey and there had been for some time. It was also true that they had had harsh words inside the Bedford Arms and had agreed to a fist fight on 26 December. Now, however, despite his earlier statement and confession, Hosler claimed that he had not stabbed Finnessey at all. It must have been another man who then ran off and he had been seized for no other reason than he was in Silver Street, close by the scene of the attack.
The jury chose to believe the earlier confession and the testimony of the various witnesses. Hosler was found guilty and sentenced to death by the judge.
Walter Hosler never did keep his appointment with the hangman. The authorities decided that there had been a good deal of provocation from Finnessey and, as a result, the sentence was commuted to one of imprisonment.
Chapter 23
Reginald Treherne Bassett Saunderson
1895
At 11.30pm, on Sunday, 25 November 1894, Arthur Salter was walking towards 8 Holland Park Road, to collect his daughter. She had been visiting friends, and he planned to escort her home. As Arthur walked along Holland Park Terrace, he saw a young woman lying on the ground, close to some iron railings. Thinking that she was a woman of the lower classes, obviously the worse for drink, Arthur tutted and began to walk on. Only then did he notice that the woman lay in a pool of blood.
Arthur ran on to his destination, rang the doorbell, and told the occupants what he had seen. At the time another gentleman, an artist named Alfred Chautrey Corbould, was also visiting the house. He went out to see the woman for himself and then, realising that Arthur Salter had been telling the truth, went to find a policeman.
In fact, two police officers were soon on the scene. Constable Thomas Gordon and Constable William Patterson arrived at Holland Park Terrace together and, whilst Gordon went to fetch a doctor, Patterson made a careful search of the immediate area. It wasn’t long before he found a walking stick in a gutter nearby.
In a modern-day investigation, the scene of the attack would be cordoned off and remain undisturbed. At this time, though, procedures were rather less formal, so the two officers lifted the body and carried the woman to the police station. There she was seen, at 12.15am on 26 November, by Dr Meredith Townsend, who pronounced ‘life extinct’. He estimated that the woman had been dead for approximately half an hour, since her body was still warm and, though a post-mortem would need to be carried out, it was clear that she had been stabbed in the stomach and had probably bled to death.
The woman carried no form of identification, so a list of her belongings was made. She wore a black skirt, a red-striped flannelette bodice, low shoes and a black hat, trimmed with white lace. She also wore two rings on the third finger of her left hand, perhaps indicating that she was a married woman. A description of the woman and her clothing was published and this led Lilian Creber to come forward and make a positive identification. The victim of the attack was a thirty-year-old prostitute named Augusta Dawes.
The inquest on the dead woman opened on 29 November, at Kensington Town Hall, before the coroner, Mr C Luxmore Drew. Details of the formal identification by Lilian Creber were given and it was confirmed that she was also a prostitute and had lived with Augusta at 36 St Clement’s Road. She had last seen Augusta at 8.00pm on 25 November, when she left home, saying that she was going to Kensington.
Another witness was Kate Forsyth, who had once lodged w
ith Augusta. She confirmed that the dead woman had never been married, but had had two children, one of whom was now living in the workhouse.
One other curious piece of information was given at the inquest. A letter had been handed over to the police. It bore a Belfast postmark and, dated 28 November, it was a full confession to the crime. The letter was signed Jack the Ripper. It must be remembered that the horrific Whitechapel crimes had only taken place in London some six years earlier and there was, initially, a good deal of press speculation that Jack had returned to the streets. This was, however, quickly dispelled and soon those same newspapers were confirming that this was not a crime of the Ripper type.
Over the next few days, more details of Augusta Dawes’ life were revealed. She had been a native of Bristol, but had left there, for London, some five years before. At the time she had been a most respectable lady, but she soon fell in with two gentlemen who were business partners. Apparently, both of these men were attracted to Augusta and both made advances towards her. Augusta chose to take one as a lover and rejected the other, leading to animosity between the two partners. They argued and an assault took place, which ended with one of the partners being sent to prison. Not long after this, Augusta had found herself pregnant, whereupon her lover abandoned her
Soon after this, Augusta found herself another lover and they began living together in 1892. Unfortunately, her bad luck had not improved and very soon afterwards, this new man was sentenced to ten years in prison for fraud. Augusta turned to drink and was forced to seek a living by selling her body on the streets.
In fact, although there were no such reports in the newspapers of the day, the police net was already closing in on the man who had attacked and killed Augusta Dawes. The dead woman’s landlady had told the police that Augusta had told her that she had recently met two men, one of whom she described as tall and dark who carried a cherry walking stick. That description matched the stick found at the scene, which indicated that the police were looking for a tall, dark man.
Foul Deeds in Kensington and Chelsea Page 9