Foul Deeds in Kensington and Chelsea Page 3
Rebecca Lloyd had been a friend of the dead woman and had called at her house, by invitation, on Wednesday, 13 December. After testifying that she had seen Jarman strike his wife on a number of occasions, she told the court that when she had left their home on Wednesday night, Jarman had simply closed the door on her without as much as a goodbye.
After those few witnesses had given their evidence, Mr Pilkington, the magistrate, decided to adjourn matters until after the inquest, when the subject of Esther’s death could be gone into more closely. Jarman, however, was remanded in custody.
The inquest opened on Monday, 18 December, before Mr Stirling, the coroner, at the Wellington Arms Tavern in South Street, Kensington. The first witness was Dr Robinson, who detailed his treatment of Esther Jarman. He explained that he had called, for the final time, on the Thursday evening. He was examining William Jarman when Esther’s daughter came downstairs and said her mother had started bleeding badly from the wound in her arm. He had gone upstairs and applied pressure to the wound, with his thumb. Perhaps the most telling part of Dr Robinson’s testimony, was that he initially believed that Esther had merely fainted when, in fact, she was quite dead. Under intense cross-examination, Dr Robinson had to agree that the direct cause of death had been due to loss of blood.
A somewhat feeble attempt was made to place the blame for Esther’s death on her husband’s shoulders. His daughter, Mrs Lidford, testified that her father was a most violent man, especially in drink, but she could refer to no recent incident where she had actually witnessed such violence.
Sarah Sheen, a neighbour, said she had seen Jarman attack his wife, with his fists, several times in the past but, under cross-examination, she also had to admit that Esther was also a most irritable woman and often gave as good as she got.
There was, of course, no real evidence against William. He may have been violent towards his wife, but it was clear that her death had been caused by the wound inflicted in her arm by Dr Robinson, and also, perhaps, by his lack of care afterwards. The jury returned the verdict that Esther had ‘died from the loss of blood occasioned by the opening of the vein’. In short, William Jarman was not responsible for his wife’s death and he had no charge to answer. Neither, it appeared, had Dr Robinson, for no charge was ever laid against him.
Chapter 5
William John Marchant
1839
The Edgell family lived in some degree of luxury at their house at 21 Cadogan Place. They had a number of servants including a housekeeper, a coachman, an upper footman, a cook, an upper housemaid, an under housemaid and a footman. Their life was very comfortable indeed.
On Friday, 17 May 1839, the Edgells wished to travel to Crayford in Kent, to visit some friends. Taking most of their staff with them on the journey, they only left four servants in the house: the cook, the housemaid, Elizabeth Paynter, the under housemaid and William John Marchant, the footman. The entire entourage left Cadogan Place at approximately 2.00pm.
Once they had finished their allotted work, at 3.30pm, the cook and the housemaid left to visit some friends of their own, leaving just Elizabeth Paynter, who preferred to be called Ann, and Marchant alone in the house.
At 6.00pm, the cook returned but found the front door of the house locked. She rang the bell and knocked stridently at the door, but there was no reply. In fact, she continued trying to gain entrance until almost 7.00pm, but there was still no sign of anyone in the house. The cook was eventually joined by the housemaid, Elizabeth Gough, and the two ladies tried their best to rouse someone inside the house, but it was all to no avail.
Some time later, the coachman returned, having dropped the Edgells off in Kent. He was with the upper footman and, having listened to the story from the cook and Elizabeth Gough, they decided that it would be best to force an entry at the back of the house. The door was duly smashed open and the four staff members went inside to search the premises, in an attempt to find out why no one had bothered to let them in.
Elizabeth Gough decided that she would search the rooms on the ground floor and it was when she walked into the drawing room that the reason for their non-admittance was revealed. There lay the body of Elizabeth Paynter, on the floor. Her throat had been cut and she was quite plainly beyond all human aid. Of William John Marchant, the other servant, there was no sign whatsoever.
The upper footman, taking charge of the situation, ran to the surgery of Dr Henry Jay at 42 Sloane Street. He attended immediately and confirmed that Elizabeth was dead. In his estimation, she had been dead for between three and four hours. Dr Jay also made a quick search of the room and discovered a bloodstained razor some feet from the body.
A massive police search was launched for the missing man, Marchant, but at 6.00pm on Saturday 18 May, he surrendered himself to a police officer near Ascot, admitting that he had killed a young woman in London. He later made a full statement, after which he was duly charged with murder.
The inquest on Elizabeth Paynter opened on Monday, 20 May, before the coroner, Mr Wakley. After evidence of the finding of the body had been detailed, Inspector William Lawrence was called to the stand. He testified that Marchant had approached him and explained that he wished to surrender himself to the police. Inspector Lawrence had asked him what for and Marchant had replied, ‘For the murder of a young woman at number twenty one Cadogan Place in London.’
Taken to the police station, Marchant had been interviewed and he went on to detail his movements after he had cut Elizabeth’s throat. He had travelled to Windsor and spent some time at the Two Brewers public house, before walking on towards Ascot. Along the way he decided that he would give himself up to the first police officer he saw.
Another police witness was Sergeant Morris Mulcahy, who had attended the scene at Cadogan Place. He had made a careful examination of the entire house and, in the pantry downstairs, had found a bloodstained towel. The inference was that Marchant had committed the crime upstairs in the drawing room, taken the towel to wipe the blood from his hands and dropped this in the pantry, as he made good his escape through the back door.
Sergeant Mulcahy was also able to state that there were obvious signs of a struggle in the drawing room and Elizabeth had fought for her life. She had some hair clutched in her right hand and this matched Marchant’s hair. When her body was discovered, her stockings were drawn half way down her legs and the suggestion was that Marchant had tried to force himself upon her. She had resisted and he had killed her.
The various members of staff from the house at Cadogan Place were all called to give their evidence. They all said that Marchant was a most diligent worker and the household had never had any trouble with him. He was, at nineteen, still a very young man, but this was his second position in service. Previously he had been a page at the home of Mr Elwyn at 84 Cadogan Place and he had come to number 21 with an excellent reference. As for his relationship with the dead woman, he had always behaved properly towards her and there was no suggestion of any physical relationship between them.
The inquest duly returned a verdict of murder against Marchant and he was sent for trial. That trial took place at the Old Bailey on 23 June, when Marchant pleaded guilty to the charge. There could only be one result of the plea and Marchant was then sentenced to death.
William Marchant did not escape the noose and, on 8 July 1839, was hanged outside Newgate prison. It was the seventh execution of the year, but the first one in London.
Chapter 6
Robert Williamson
1842
There were a number of people lodging at 12 Royal Hospital Row, in Chelsea. One couple, Margaret and John Doolen, occupied rooms on the ground floor and on the evening of Wednesday, 26 October 1842, at around 5.00pm, both were enjoying their meal together when, suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rang out.
The scream had come from the direction of the stairs and Margaret Doolen immediately dashed out to investigate. She found Sarah Williamson, the woman who lived upstairs, using one hand to suppor
t herself against the banister. Her other hand she held underneath her chin and there appeared to be blood everywhere. Sarah explained that her husband, Robert, had just attacked her with a poker and struck her ‘about the top of her head’.
Margaret helped Sarah into her own rooms and sat her down on a chair. It was clear that the wound would need proper medical attention so Margaret took her wounded neighbour to see a doctor in George Street. He dressed the wound and Margaret then escorted Sarah to her daughter’s house.
Esther Tanner was Sarah’s daughter by her first husband and she insisted that her mother should be taken to the hospital. A cab was called and Esther took Sarah to St George’s Hospital, where she was seen by the house surgeon, Dr George Augustus Davis. He timed her arrival at a few minutes before 7.00pm and he noted a single deep wound on the crown of Sarah’s head. The skin was broken and Dr Davis could see the bone beneath but there did not appear to be any fracture of the skull. He also noted a second wound, on Sarah’s left arm and decided that both may well have been caused by a poker, used with some considerable degree of violence.
The police were called and Sarah Williamson was able to make a full statement to them. In this she explained that she and Robert had been together in the Coach and Horses public house for two or three hours and had left together at some time between 4.00pm and 5.00pm. Once they were inside their lodgings, Robert had called her an old whore, picked up a poker and said that he was going to murder her. Even before she could reply to this threat, Sarah received a massive blow on her head. She was dazed but managed to stagger out of the room and down the stairs. Robert, however, followed her and struck her a second time, catching her on the arm. It was at that point that Margaret Doolen had come to her aid.
Initially, Sarah Williamson responded to the medical treatment she received. For a time her condition improved but then, on 14 November, she fell ill again. This time she grew steadily worse and, on Saturday, 19 November, she died. Robert, who had previously been charged with assaulting his wife, now found himself facing a charge of murder, in addition to the one of assault.
Robert Williamson faced his trial on 28 November 1842. In addition to the evidence of Margaret Doolen, the court heard from her husband, John. He testified that he had also heard the scream, but left it to his wife to attend to the stricken woman. After Margaret and Sarah had left to go to the doctor’s, John heard a great deal of noise from the rooms upstairs. It sounded like breaking crockery and at one stage he heard Robert shout, ‘I will let them see who is master in this house.’
After his arrest, Robert had made an appearance before the magistrates at the Queen Street police court. After the proceedings had concluded he made a statement to the chief clerk, Richard Edwards, and this was taken down in writing. That statement was now read out to the court.
Robert began by saying, ‘I can only say she had been out and got drunk, and I left her at the Coach and Horses public house. I went home and lit the fire and boiled the kettle. She then came home. I went to make the tea and found tea-leaves in the pot and I asked her if she had had any tea.’
‘She said, “Damn you and your tea too.” I had put hot water to the tea-leaves in the pot and she took up the pot and threw it, and the water, at me. The hot water came all over my face. She then set to and broke the tea things and plates. She then went out to go downstairs and she stumbled down two pairs of stairs.’
This statement did not seem to agree with what Esther Tanner, Sarah’s daughter, had to say. After seeing her mother to the hospital, she had gone to visit her stepfather at Royal Hospital Row. She told him that his wife was in hospital and very badly injured. He replied, ‘A good job and a very good job if she went mad, for I do not want to have anything more to do with the gang of you.’
It seemed clear that this had been a domestic argument, which had got out of hand. It fell to the jury to decide if that argument had been instigated by Robert, or by his wife. In the event, they decided that Robert was not guilty of murder, but was guilty of assaulting his wife. Further, they recommended him to mercy on account of the provocation he had received and his previous good character. The judge took that into consideration and sentenced Robert to just one year in prison.
Chapter 7
Michael and Ann Connell
1851
George Ferris had had enough. It was 1.00am on the morning of Sunday, 6 April 1851, and his lodgers, who lived downstairs, at 2 Exeter Place, Chelsea, were keeping him awake by arguing yet again.
In fact, there were four lodgers living together downstairs. In addition to Michael Connell and his wife, Ann, there was also Caroline Jewel, a friend of theirs who shared their rooms. The fourth lodger was the Connell’s small son, six-year-old Daniel. Unfortunately, it seemed that all of the three adults had something of a drink problem and, once they were under the influence, there was always something new to argue about.
When George went downstairs to sort this matter out, he found Ann and Michael squaring up to each other and Caroline sitting on a chair nearby. As George warned them that if they didn’t keep the noise down he would go for a constable, a ‘strange woman’ walked in from the next room.
Even before George could ask who this woman was, Ann moved forward and struck Michael in the face. In response, Michael grabbed his wife by the hair and struck her two or three times. George again asked them to settle down and now demanded to know who this other woman was.
Ann replied that she had just come home and found Michael with this woman. In an attempt to cool the situation down, George told the strange woman that it would probably be better if she were to leave. The woman, thinking that this was good advice, opened the door and left, only to be followed by Ann who struck out at her on the landing outside. Finally, the woman managed to make good her escape and a rather weary George Ferris made his way back to his welcoming bed.
George was not, however, to gain much respite for, some ten minutes later, there was a knock on his door. Opening it with a deep sigh, George found Michael Connell, who asked him to come back to their rooms, as he believed someone was dead. Taking a candle for extra light, George returned to the Connell’s rooms to find Caroline Jewel lying on her back, with a red mark across her nose, as if she had received a blow of some kind. There was no sign of Ann Connell.
It was time to bring in the authorities and the first officer on the scene was Sergeant George Tewsley. Having sent for the doctor, who pronounced Caroline to be dead, Tewsley then took the only other occupant of the room, Michael Connell, into custody on a charge of manslaughter.
At the police station, Michael was interviewed by Inspector Robert McKenzie, to whom he made a full statement. It began, ‘I did not cause her death at all. Me and my old woman were having a fight and she stood up between us. Whether I struck her or not, I cannot say. My old woman came home and, seeing a strange woman there, commenced a row.’
Later in that same statement, Michael said that after the argument he suddenly noticed Caroline Jewel on the floor, thought she was just stunned, and asked her to get up. He then made some tea and tried to lift Caroline up. At the time, her legs were moving and she groaned a little but when he could not rouse her, he went to Mr Ferris for help.
A few hours after this, Ann Connell was also arrested and charged with the same offence as her husband. Later, however, at the inquest on the dead woman, the charge against both of the Connell’s was amended to one of ‘causing the death of Caroline Jewel’.
The trial of both defendants took place on 12 May 1851. After George Ferris and the police had given their evidence, the prosecution called young Daniel Connell whose simple testimony was, ‘Mother pushed Mrs Jewel down and she went dead.’
The post-mortem on Caroline had been carried out by Mr Frederick Sotherby Miller, who found a large blood clot in her head. Several blood vessels had ruptured and broken and the brain was floating on a large quantity of blood.
By now, the strange woman at the scene had been traced and she now gave the
court her testimony. Susannah Blanchfield said that on Saturday, 5 April, she had left the service of Mr Sturry, at 7 Denbigh Place, Pimlico. She had intended staying that night at a friend’s house, at 1 Ann Place, Knightsbridge but, on arrival there, Susannah found that her friend was not at home. She left her trunks there, in the care of a servant, and then went to sit in the nearby park.
Susannah had only been in the park a short time when Ann Connell approached her. The two women fell into conversation and, concerned that it was now growing rather late, Susannah asked Ann if she knew of a place where she might sleep for just that one night. Ann invited her back to 2 Exeter Place, where Susannah had tea with Ann, Michael and Caroline.
In due course, Susannah went to bed, but she was soon roused from her slumber by someone fondling her body. She woke to find that Michael Connell was molesting her and when she remonstrated with him, he said that if she cried out or resisted him, he would smash her head in. He then stole her purse from her.
Very soon after this, Ann returned home and upon seeing Susannah, and apparently forgetting that she had invited her home in the first place, flew at her and struck out at her. Finally, just before Susannah managed to escape from the house, she saw Ann seize Caroline Jewel and throw her to the floor. She noticed that, as she landed, Caroline struck her head hard at the back.
After hearing all the evidence, the jury decided that Michael Connell was in no way responsible for Caroline’s death, and he was acquitted. Ann, however, was judged to be guilty and was given the perhaps somewhat light sentence of two months’ imprisonment, with the last week to be served in solitary confinement.
Chapter 8
James Mooney
1867
Ann Mooney had been married to her husband for some six years and they had one son, John, who was now five years old. The marital relationship, however, was a tempestuous one, James regularly assaulting his wife.