If the British authorities would do little to protect the Catholics in the north, then the government in the new Irish Free State would have to do what it could. The new prime minister of the State, Michael Collins, decided that the best way to protect Catholics would be to send aid and arms to the north. This would have the added advantage of destabilising the Unionist government and, possibly, lead to a true unification of Ireland.
To every action, there is a reaction. The British government was not prepared to sit back and watch the new Irish state arm dissidents in the north. They would have to send their own agents to the north in order to infiltrate nationalist groups and gather information. The only decision now was who could they put in charge of this operation?
Field Marshal Sir Henry Wilson knew Irish politics very well indeed. He had been the Chief of the British Imperial Staff and a member of parliament for North Down. A vociferous opponent of nationalism, he had made many speeches attacking not just the idea of a free Ireland, but also attacking Catholics in general. He had even made speeches and comments attacking Michael Collins himself. By 1921, Sir Henry’s name had been placed on an IRA death list.
Thursday, 22 June 1922, was a warm, pleasant day in London. At around noon, fifty-eight-year-old Sir Henry attended a ceremony at Liverpool Street railway station, where he unveiled a war memorial. Sir Henry made a speech and, once the ceremony had finished, climbed into a taxi to take him home to Eaton Place, in Chelsea.
The taxi finally pulled up outside 36 Eaton Place and Sir Henry paid the fare. The cab pulled away and Sir Henry walked to his front door and began fumbling for his keys. Two men then stepped forward, drew revolvers, and began firing at the Field Marshal.
In all, Sir Henry Wilson received several wounds. One bullet struck him in the left forearm. Two more hit him in the right arm, and two more in the right leg. Another two bullets caused injuries to his left shoulder but the fatal wounds pierced Sir Henry’s lungs; chest wounds fired from opposite sides of his body.
Having achieved their objective, the two assassins tried to make good their escape. There had, however, been a number of witnesses to the shooting. A group of men were working in the street nearby and a couple of police constables who were on patrol in the area, heard the shots. A chase began and, at that point, the two gunmen saw a passing taxi cab and tried to hail it. The driver of that cab saw the two men and, thinking that they were nothing more than ordinary fares, pulled in to the kerb and opened his rear door. Some of the witness who had been giving chase shouted, ‘Stop them!’ and the driver, thinking that there might have been a robbery, pulled his door shut and began following the two men along the street.
One of the two gunmen seemed to be moving slower than the other, and the crowd soon caught up with him and held him. His companion, seeing him seized, turned and went back to offer assistance. More shots were fired and, in all, three more men received wounds, though none of them were fatal. Constable Marsh, Constable Sayer and a man named Alexander Clarke were all injured but, eventually, the two men were overpowered and taken into custody.
The men readily identified themselves as twenty-five-year-old James Connelly and twenty-four-year-old John O’Brien; and both admitted that they were members of the IRA and had shot Sir Henry in reprisal for his actions in Northern Ireland. They were then both charged with murder.
It soon transpired that both men had given false names to the police. Connelly was actually Joseph O’Sullivan and his companion, O’Brien, was Reginald Dunne. Both had served in the British Army in the Great War and both men had been wounded in France. Indeed, O’Sullivan had lost his right leg below the knee, at Ypres, thus explaining why he had been slower than the other gunman, during the chase. At the time of their arrests, Dunne was the second in command of the London branch of the IRA and had previously attended St Ignatius’s College. Now he was at St Mary’s College, where he was training to be a teacher. As for O’Sullivan, he had been working at the Ministry of Labour.
The assassination of Sir Henry led to a massive public outcry. The newspapers of the day bayed for the blood of the two killers. The coalition government came under increasing pressure to stop any policy of compromise with Michael Collins and his Irish Free State and, at one stage, it even looked as if war might break out between Britain and Ireland.
The trial of O’Sullivan and Dunne took place at the Old Bailey on 18 July 1922, before Mr Justice Shearman. O’Sullivan was defended by Mr Artemis Jones whilst Dunne was represented by Mr Jeremiah McVeagh. The prosecution case was led by Sir Ernest Pollock, who was assisted by Mr Eustace Fulton, Mr Travers Humphreys and Mr Giveen. The proceedings would last for just three hours.
The trial opened with the charges being read out and both men were then asked how they wished to plead. Dunne replied, ‘I admit shooting Sir Henry Wilson.’ That, of course, was not a plea so the Clerk of Arraigns asked, ‘Are you guilty or not guilty of the murder?’ Dunne replied, ‘That is the only statement I can make.’ After O’Sullivan had replied to the charge in a similar manner, a formal plea of not guilty was entered and the prosecution then outlined its case.
There could be little doubt that the jury would return guilty verdicts, but at the end of the trial, both men were asked if they had anything to say in their defence. Dunne’s defence then handed the judge a written statement, which Dunne wished to be read out in court. The judge read through the document and then said, ‘I cannot allow this to be read. It is not a defence to the jury at all. It is a political manifesto. It is a justification of the right to kill.’
Though it was not read out in court at the time, the text of that statement is available in The National Archives, and deserves to be quoted in full. It read:
Lord and Members of the Jury. My friend and I stand here before you today charged with the offence of murder; and I have no doubt that, from the evidence placed before you by the prosecution, you will find us both guilty. With respect to the charges of attempted murder, we merely tried, as everyone must know, to try and escape arrest.
The offence of murder is a very serious matter; so much so, that any act which results in loss of human life requires very grave and substantial reason. We have never until now been charged with any crime. As you have heard from the police officer, who gave evidence as to our character and our previous records, we have both been in the British Army.
We both joined voluntarily, for the purpose of making Europe safe in order that the principles for which this country stood, should be upheld and preserved. These principles, we were told, were self-determination and freedom for small nations. We both, as I have said, fought for these principles, and were commended for doing so; and I imagine that several of you gentlemen of this jury did likewise.
We came back from France to find that self-determination had been given to some nations we had never heard of, but that it had been denied to Ireland. We found, on the contrary that our country was being divided into two countries; that a Government had been set up for the Belfast district, and that under that Government outrages were being perpetrated, that are a disgrace to civilization.
Many of the outrages are being committed by men in uniform and in the pay of the Belfast Government. We took our part in supporting the aspiration of our fellow countrymen, in the same way as we took part in supporting the nations of the world who fought for the right of small nationalities.
Who was Sir Henry Wilson? What was his policy, and what did he stand for? You have all read in the newspapers lately, and been told, that he was a great British Field Marshal; but his activities in other fields are unknown to the men of the British public.
The nation to which we have the honour to belong, the Irish nation, knows him, not so much as the British Field Marshal, but as the man behind what is known in Ireland as the Orange Terror. He was at the time of his death the Military Advisor to what is colloquially called the Ulster Government, and as Military Advisor he raised and organised a body of men known as the Ulster Special Constabulary, who
are the principle agents in his campaign of terrorism.
My Lord and Members of the Jury, I do not propose to go into details of the horrible outrages committed on men, women and children of my race in Belfast and other places under the jurisdiction of the Ulster Government. Among Irishmen it is well known that about 500 men, women and children have been killed within the past few months, nearly two thousand wounded, and not one offender brought to justice.
More than 9,000 persons have been expelled from their employment; and 23,000 men, women, and children driven from their homes. Sir Henry Wilson was the representative figure and the organiser of the system that made these things possible.
My Lord and Members of the Jury, you can condemn us to death today, but you cannot deprive us of the belief that what we have done was necessary to preserve the lives, the homes, and the happiness of our countrymen in Ireland. You may by your verdict find us guilty, but we will go to the scaffold justified by the verdict of our own conscience.
Once Mr Justice Shearman had refused to read out that statement, both defendants withdrew their instructions from their counsel and no further defence was put forward. The jury having duly reached the only verdict really open to them, both men were then sentenced to death. Before he was taken down to the cells, O’Sullivan announced, ‘You may kill my body, my Lord, but my spirit you will never kill.’
It has been said that in the days the two men spent in the condemned cell, they were subject to regular and brutal beatings from the prison staff. The truth of that can never, now, be verified but what is true is that O’Sullivan received a letter from a distant family member. That letter read:
I am proud of the honour of being a cousin of yours. It is with pride that I can hold up my head and say that I had a cousin who died for Ireland. It was a good day for Ireland the day yourself and your hero of a companion went out and laid the second Cromwell dead at your feet. You need not be afraid to meet your God.
On 8 August, the Irish government made an official request for mercy for the two killers. The plea was rejected out of hand. The fate of the two men was now sealed.
On the morning of Thursday, 10 August 1922, Joseph O’Sullivan and Reginald Dunne were hanged at Wandsworth prison by John Ellis, who was assisted by Edward Taylor and Seth Mills. Less than two weeks later, on 22 August, Michael Collins, the leader of the Irish Free State, was ambushed and shot dead in his County Cork home, by men who were against the IRA.
For many years, the bodies of the two men held as cold-blooded killers in England, and heroes in the Irish Republic, lay in unmarked graves in the prison where they died. However, in 1968, the bodies were exhumed and transferred to Ireland where they were reburied in Dean’s Grange cemetery, in Dublin.
Chapter 29
George Frank Harvey
1934
George Frank Harvey had lived at the Westminster Poor Law Institute, at 367 Fulham Road, Chelsea, for some time. By April 1934, he had earned the respect of Harry Pocock, the labour superintendent of the institute, so much so that Pocock appointed Harvey as his batman. Amongst his other duties, Harvey would carry Pocock’s meals to him each day, and clean his room. In order to carry out these duties, Harvey was given two keys to Pocock’s rooms. He was also given a key to a storeroom, room B77, in the basement. It was there that he washed Pocock’s plates after he had eaten, and where he kept various tools.
On Thursday, 25 October, Pocock saw Harvey a number of times during the day. He first saw him at 8.00am, whilst he was going about his duties. Pocock’s final sighting of Harvey was at 4.50pm when he called into Pocock’s room to see if he needed anything. Pocock said he was fine and Harvey then mentioned that he was going out for a couple of hours that evening.
The Institute had some rather strict rules for the inmates. Inside the building, all of them had to wear institute clothing, a sort of uniform, but they were forbidden from leaving, whilst wearing institute clothes. First, they had to ask permission to leave the building. If that were granted, they would be given a ticket and, just before they left, would sign for their outdoor clothes, change, and then check out at the main entrance.
Five minutes after Pocock had last seen Harvey; that is at 4.55pm, a bell rang. This was a signal to the inmates that it was teatime and that they should all report to the dining hall. This meant that at this time, all of B Block, would be empty of inmates.
At 5.15pm, George William James, the leave ward attendant, was in his office when Harvey reported to him with his exit ticket. By now he was wearing his outdoor clothing and, as was the custom, handed his institute clothing, in a bag, to James. The officer could not help but notice that Harvey was sweating profusely, as if he had been running, but thought nothing of this. Perhaps Harvey was just in a hurry to leave. However, before he could do so, James had to check that all the institute clothing was accounted for. James tipped the bag of clothing out onto the floor and checked it, only to find that a shirt was missing. James looked up, ready to confront Harvey about this, only to find that he had already gone.
Frederick George Oliver was another of the institute’s attendants and on this particular day, he was on duty on the exit door. At around 5.20pm, the telephone in his office rang. When he answered it, Oliver found that it was George James, asking him not to let Harvey out of the building, until the missing shirt was accounted for. It was already too late. Harvey had shown his exit ticket and dashed out into the street.
Although room B77 was officially for Harvey’s use, whilst it was not locked other inmates often went in there. One person in particular who used this room was George Hamblin, a close friend of Harvey’s. Hamblin was the unofficial bookmaker for the other inmates and he took small bets on horse and dog races. He often operated this business from room B77 and it was there that the day’s papers were taken to him, by William Richardson.
On 25 October, Richardson had taken the first newspaper to Hamblin, at 4.30pm. At that time Hamblin was in the storeroom, with Harvey, and they were discussing some bets. However, when Richardson took the second newspaper, at 5.30pm, he found that the door to the storeroom was locked, and that there was no answer when he knocked.
At some time between 10.30pm and 10.40pm that same night, 25 October, the labour master, Albert George Poole, checked all the beds in the institute. He found that two inmates were missing: George Harvey and George Hamblin. Both would be in trouble when they finally bothered to reappear.
The following morning, 26 October, at 7.05am, Albert Poole’s shift was over and he was then relieved by the other labour master, Frederick Thomas. Mr Thomas was informed about the two missing inmates and decided to check the premises. One of the first ports of call was the storeroom, which both men were known to use. The door was still locked, but Thomas had a master key. He opened the door and even as he clicked on the light he almost lost his footing on something slippery. Looking down, Thomas saw a great deal of blood on the floor. He also saw the battered body of forty-eight-year-old George Hamblin. A bloodstained hammer lay nearby, and it appeared that the motive for this crime had been robbery, for Hamblin’s trouser pockets were pulled inside out and their contents had been taken.
Although a full police search was launched for the missing inmate, Harvey, and details of the crime were published in the local newspapers, there was no real need for a manhunt for, at 2.10am, on Sunday, 28 October, Harvey walked into the police station at Paddington and gave himself up. He greeted the desk officer with, ‘I’m Harvey. I understand you’ve been broadcasting for me.’ He was then interviewed, by Inspector Ernest France, who charged him with murder later that same morning.
George Harvey’s trial for murder opened on 21 January 1935, before Mr Justice Atkinson. The trial lasted until 24 January, during which time Harvey was defended by Mr FJ Eastwood. The Crown’s case was led by Mr Eustace Fulton, assisted by Mr LA Byrne.
One of the first witnesses was Herbert Edward Hamblin of Sherborne in Dorset. He told the court that he had identified the body of his brothe
r, at the Hammersmith mortuary, on 29 October. The dead man’s full name was Allan George Hamblin, though he never used his first name. He had been born in Lambeth, in 1886.
Details of Harvey’s movements on the day in question were then given. Arthur Burness Rose was the acting assistant manager of the institute, and he testified that at 9.00am, on 25 October, Harvey had asked him for a ticket to leave the premises. Originally he had only asked for a couple of hours, starting at 5.00pm. Rose had granted him a pass from 1.00pm until 8.00pm instead.
At 9.50am, Harvey was showing that pass to George Simpson, the senior receiving ward attendant. It was Simpson who handed Harvey his private, outdoor clothing, so he could change whenever he wished to leave.
Another part of the routine was that an inmate going out would also be issued with clean institute clothing. That would be left in his room so that when he returned, he could change out of his private clothing again, and put on a fresh, clean uniform. That was why the old one was supposed to be handed in. Richard George Barber handed the fresh uniform to Harvey at some time before 11.00am on 25 October. All clothing was marked and amongst the new clothing handed over was a shirt, which bore the mark B/132 on the inside of the collar.
Where had Harvey gone, after he had left the institute on the evening of 25 October ? The answer to that was provided by Clara Barnes who lived at 2 Colville Houses, Talbot Road, in Bayswater. She reported that she had first met Harvey in Hyde Park, some time in early September. They had soon become rather friendly and he had taken her to see a show.
On 24 October, Clara received a letter from Harvey saying that he had not forgotten her and asking to meet her on the coming Saturday, which was 28 October. He said he would be at the Regal cinema at Marble Arch at eight o’clock and hoped that she would condescend to meet him.
Clara did not reply to that letter, but she had intended to keep the suggested appointment. In the event, she was surprised to find Harvey at her house at some time before 5.45pm on 25 October. He explained that he was a bookmaker and had just lost rather a lot of money on a certain horse. Despite this he then gave her ten shillings, mostly in sixpence and shilling coins.
Foul Deeds in Kensington and Chelsea Page 12