Warwick Read online

  CONTENTS

  * * *

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction

  Case One 1812 ‘Up to his devilish tricks again’

  Case Two 1819 A thought struck her that she would murder her mistress

  Case Three 1829 A rapidly increasing crime

  Case Four 1837 ‘Me vil put you on de fire and put you to death’

  Case Five 1846 ‘The house is full of thieves!’

  Case Six 1852 Girl in a lilac dress

  Case Seven 1862 ‘If I have I must have eaten it!’

  Case Eight 1862 ‘No, no a policeman took the child away before my eyes’

  Case Nine 1865 ‘A wound the size of his hand’

  Case Ten 1870 ‘Oh go on with you; don’t come here with any of your folly’

  Case Eleven 1875/78 ‘Are you not going to stand another quart?’

  Case Twelve 1883 ‘I met the poor little fellow near Hockley Heath’

  Case Thirteen 1888 ‘The devil has tempted me to do it’

  Case Fourteen 1891 ‘You never saw me in your life before’

  Case Fifteen 1892 ‘A short wiry young fellow’

  Case Sixteen 1892 ‘The skull was smashed in’

  Case Seventeen 1893 ‘I am a dupe of another man’

  Case Eighteen 1896 ‘Driven to poaching for a living’

  Case Nineteen 1911 ‘Blood was flowing from her throat’

  Case Twenty 1911/13 ‘Wait till you come outside, I will pounce on you like a lion’

  Copyright

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  * * *

  Research for this book was mainly undertaken using local newspapers of the period, including the Royal Leamington Spa Courier, Warwickshire Standard, Warwick and Warwickshire Advertiser, Coventry Evening Telegraph, Midland Daily Telegraph, Birmingham Daily Post, Birmingham Gazette and the Birmingham Journal, all of which are held in Warwick Record Office or the Birmingham Archives and Heritage.

  Original records include parish and census registers, the Hatton Lunatic Asylum Records (ref: CR1664) and papers belonging to Slatter Son & Moore (ref: CR1908) held in Warwick Record Office.

  All images, unless otherwise stated, are from the author’s collection.

  Westgate and the Lord Leycester Hospital, around the 1950s.

  INTRODUCTION

  * * *

  ‘County town and assize town of South Warwickshire, a union and market town, place of county elections, and municipal borough, returning two members to parliament’.

  Warwickshire Directory, 1860

  Warwick grew quite rapidly during the 1800s. When the first census (a very basic headcount) took place in 1801, the population was 5,592. In 1851 it was 10,952, and then forty years later, in 1891, it was 13,459. A gazetteer published in the 1860s describes Warwick as having spacious streets which were well-paved and lit, and houses which were generally modern. The population at the time of the 1861 census was 10,570 – a slight drop from ten years previously.

  Castle Street in the early 1900s.

  In April 1870, a report in the Birmingham Daily Post described Warwick as being a ‘quiet and demure old borough town, the inhabitants of which appear to enjoy special immunity from such dreadful crime.’ However, it was the county town of a large county, and criminals were brought here to be tried and, in many cases, executed. The trials of murder cases both in the initial Police Courts and the assizes would attract great public interest. The people of the nineteenth century loved a good crime story, especially one of murder, and the newspapers reported every gory detail, from the scene where the crime had been committed through to the execution of the convicted.

  The appearance of a murderer in the Warwick Borough Police Court always caused great excitement as in, for example, the following extract from the Birmingham Daily Post in 1888 regarding the case of George Timms (see case thirteen):

  Long before the hour fixed for the hearing of the case the approaches to the courthouse were thronged with people anxious to get a glimpse of the prisoner, and upon the doors of the court being opened, shortly before half past ten, a tremendous rush was made for places, the space at the rear of the court being soon filled.

  Mill Street in the 1900s.

  St Mary’s Church, 1900s.

  In many towns the execution of the convicted was considered a public holiday. A report in the Leamington Spa Courier on Friday, 4 January 1907, regarding the execution of a condemned murderer from Aston Manor, told how, ‘An execution, followed by the tolling of St Mary’s bell, was a melancholy start for the New Year in Warwick.’

  The report went on to say:

  It was hardly likely the public would interest themselves on his behalf. The quietness of present-day executions is in vivid contrast to those of years ago, when the whole countryside turned out to see men hanged at Warwick in the open. Then they made the affair a public holiday, and a broadsheet containing the last dying speech and confession sold like hot cakes.

  In fact, the Leamington Spa Courier in August 1860 did describe one of these occasions:

  About a thousand persons wended their way to the new Gaol, from seven o’clock until ten in the morning. Many of these had walked through the heavy and pitiless rain from the neighbouring towns of Coventry, Banbury, Birmingham and Stratford. Their clothing was covered with mud, and drenching with rain. Nearly the whole of these persons had the appearance of belonging to the lowest classes of society, and, strange to say, the majority of them were women, some of whom had infants in their arms.

  Following an Act of Parliament in 1873, executions took place in private behind the walls of the prison. A black flag was hoisted to let everyone know that the act had been carried out, and morbid crowds still gathered just to see the black flag flying. In those first few years, reporters were allowed to witness the executions and so would do their upmost to inform the public of what had happened, as this excerpt of the first private execution in Warwick demonstrates:

  At five minutes after eight o’clock the Under Sheriff emerged into the gaol-yard. He was followed by the prisoner, pinioned, of course, and dressed in the ordinary prison suit. A vault had been dug in the yard, some four-feet deep, and over this a plank was placed, on which the prisoner was directed to stand. The white cap was then adjusted and the Chaplain read another prayer. [The prisoner] half unconsciously shook hands with the governor; Smith (the executioner) withdrew the bolt. [The prisoner] fell to the length of the drop and the noose tightened round his neck. There was very little struggle, and after several desperate efforts for breath, in a little under four minutes all was over.

  The first gaol in Warwick was a small dungeon in a courtyard at the back of the Shire Hall in Northgate Street. Known as the ‘Black Hole’, it was 18ft 10in underground and measured 21ft in diameter. There were thirty-one steps leading down to it and it was only lit by a small grating. There was a cesspit in the middle and a gutter on one side, where water flowed for both drinking and washing and there could be up to fifty-six prisoners in the hole at a time, usually chained together. It is unknown when it was actually built but was known to be in existence in 1661. George Fox, the founder of the Quakers, wrote in his journal of 1661 that, following numerous meetings taking place in Warwick, many of those attending were imprisoned in the Black Hole. The building in which the Black Hole was found was demolished in the late 1700s and a new gaol was built in Barrack Street. This was also closed when Warwick Prison, built at The Cape, was opened in 1860. This was closed in 1917 and the building was demolished in 1934.

  The Warwick Assizes were held at the Shire Hall in Northgate Street from the 1750s, and the last cases heard there were in December 2010, when the courts moved to Leamington Spa. The building now houses Warwick Library.

  The
Police Act of 1839 gave magistrates the authority to form a professional police force. However, it was not a legal requirement and so the Warwickshire magistrates decided to cover only certain parts of the county, mainly the towns. In most rural areas, the law was still carried out by means of the old manorial system. Each year a Court Leet, headed by a High Bailiff, Low Bailiff and a Court Leet Jury, would appoint a headborough and two constables, whose job it was to ensure law and order was kept.

  Shire Hall in Northgate, once home to the assizes.

  Barrack Street at the back of Shire Hall, once the vicinity of the ‘Black Hole’ and the police station.

  Market Place entrance to Shire Hall, now Warwick Library.

  Following the County and Borough Police Act of 1856 it became compulsory for the whole of England to be covered by a police force, and the Warwickshire Constabulary was formed on 5 February 1857. Within twenty years, the main towns in Warwickshire, including Warwick, began creating their own individual forces and the first police station was built in Barrack Street. It is no longer there, having been demolished in 1972.

  Warwick has very much remained an historic town. Every day visitors flood to visit Warwick Castle – an imposing building which stands on solid rock overlooking the town and was once home to the Earls of Warwick. Built in 1068, it was originally only used as a fortification, but in the seventeenth century Sir Fulke Greville turned it into a country house and the family remained there until 1978, when the castle was purchased by the Tussauds Group.

  Warwick Castle from Castle Bridge.

  A pensioner at the entrance to Lord Leycester Hospital, early 1900s.

  The Lord Leycester Hospital also adds to the historic backdrop of Warwick, with its fourteenth-century buildings surrounding a Norman gateway. At first it was home to the guilds of Warwick, but in 1571 Lord Leyster took it over and founded the almshouses here, to house retired soldiers and their wives. It still has the same function today.

  So now take a journey through 100 years and read about the crimes and murders which took place in this so-called ‘quiet and demure’ town.

  Vanessa Morgan, 2013

  On 5 March 1812, fourteen-year-old Hannah Miller went into her local bakery. Hannah was the servant of resident butcher Thomas George and his wife, who lodged in part of a large house which belonged to retired cleric, William Brookes. William also lived at the property and Hannah helped Mrs Brookes to care for him. As the baker, Samuel Roberts, served her some rice pudding, his wife asked, ‘How the old parson went on?’ Hannah replied that, ‘He was up to his devilish tricks again, for he was running about in his shirt and had been jumping into the well in the cellar yesterday, and that morning.’ Less than an hour later, Hannah lay dying in the Bear and Bacchus public house – she had been shot twice by the ‘old parson’.

  Hannah was the daughter of John and Ann Miller and was baptised at Budbrooke parish church on 2 September 1798. She had lived in Budbrooke until she had gone to live with her employees at the house on the High Street in Warwick, where Mrs George acted as housekeeper. This arrangement had been made following the death of William’s parents.

  William Brookes had been born in 1766, the only child of William and Hannah Brookes of St Nicholas’ in Warwick. His father was described as ‘a very respectable tradesman in the town of Warwick who in the earlier part of his life had been an officer in the army’. He had died eleven years earlier.

  William had received a good education ‘in the country’ before attending St John’s College in Oxford. After finishing his studies he took his orders, and upon leaving Oxford became a curate at Cubbington, four miles from Warwick, but he soon began to show signs of insanity. For his own safety, William’s father placed him under the care of Dr Terry of Sutton Coldfield, where ‘he continued for a long space of time, until he got so much the better of his mania as to be taken away from that situation and returned into the neighbourhood of Warwick under the eye of his relations’.

  He went to live with his uncle, John Barnett, in Hatton and stayed there for a few months. But when he began showing signs of a relapse, William went back to his father’s house.

  When her husband died in June 1805, William’s mother rented part of their large house to Thomas George. She died a couple of years later, but before she passed away she made Mr and Mrs George promise to take care of her son, so ‘that they would have an eye upon him and watch his conduct’.

  William liked Thomas George and took notice of what he would tell him, but he was not so fond of Mrs George. And so, when Thomas found it necessary to concentrate more on his business, which left William on his own with Mrs George, hostility developed between the two. This led to quarrels and eventually William, while suffering from one of his bouts of frenzies, lost his temper and told Mrs George he wanted her and her husband to leave. Although he never actually carried out his threat, it seems they were never cordial to one another again.

  Mrs Charlotte Ward, a neighbour who had lived nearby for seven years, frequently heard him talking to himself, and it was well known that he usually ate his food with his fingers, seldom using a knife and fork; he had even been seen eating his broth with his fingers rather than with a spoon. It was said that William would stay in bed for days on end and even when he did get up he only wore a nightshirt, even during the day. He’d also been seen dancing naked in his yard. Along with this unusual conduct, William had threatened to shoot people before, in particular Mr West the High Sheriff of Warwickshire. William believed that he had a ‘prior claim’ to Mrs West, and that if her husband was dead Mrs West would be free to marry him. He had also threatened to shoot Hannah before.

  Upon returning from the bakery, Hannah had gone upstairs to make William’s bed and tidy his room. She had found a letter on the floor and picked it up, but William saw her and became upset. No one seemed to know what words passed between them, but it could have been that Hannah had teased that it was a love letter. She then ran off, with the letter still her hand. In a statement made on her deathbed she said that after having words with William, he had gone to a drawer and opened it. He had then followed her to the kitchen, then to the brewhouse and finally to the yard. She had turned around and saw that William was holding a pistol and cried out, ‘For God’s sake Mr Brookes, don’t shoot me!’ But as she had turned her back, he had shot her – as she fell, she called out for help.

  William Tew, a neighbour in Cow Lane (now known as Brook Street), heard a gunshot at about five past two in the afternoon and had looked out of his shop window. At first he didn’t see anything but then heard someone crying outside Brookes’ house and rushed over. There he had found Hannah lying on the ground supporting herself with her right hand, saying that William had shot her. Hannah was able to stand up and walk into the house without Tew’s help but he could see blood seeping through her clothes. By the time she had reached the back door she had weakened and needed to be helped into the kitchen, and it was here that the letter slipped from her hands.

  The corner of Brook Street (once known as Cow Lane) and High Street.

  Tew sat Hannah in a chair as they were joined by neighbours Mrs Hammond and Mrs Cooke, who had heard the gunshot and Hannah’s cries. They could see that Hannah was now in ‘great agony’, so Mrs Hammond took her through the passage to sit somewhere more comfortable. Brookes was standing on the first-floor landing. He called out, ‘Dare you! Dare you!’

  ‘Yes I dare, you dirty villain,’ Mrs Hammond answered. ‘Do you know what you have done?’ She then tried to get Hannah up the stairs but he continued shouting, ‘Dare you! Dare you!’ He then drew the pistol once more and fired another shot. Hannah fell to the ground. William Tew once again came to her assistance and later, giving evidence, he described seeing another hole under her left ear, from which blood was oozing down her neck. Brookes then shouted, ‘I could kill half a score of you if I like it; it is of no use holding me!’ before he turned and disappeared into his room. Hannah was taken to the Bear and Bacchus Inn and a surgeon w
as sent for. In the meantime, William remained in his room, with nobody daring to approach him.

  * * *

  ‘Yes I dare, you dirty villain’

  * * *

  As news of the shooting spread and a crowd began to gather outside the house, William appeared at the parlour window. A Mr Dore and two other men rushed in and reached William’s room just as he was retreating back inside. Mr Dore prevented him from closing and locking the door by blocking it with his shoulder, and as they followed William into his room he shouted that he would not be taken by ‘any man’. A scuffle ensued in which Dore and the two other men managed to get William down on the floor. At that moment two constables, John Steel and John Squires, arrived on the scene and William was taken into custody.

  Meanwhile, the surgeon examined Hannah but found that it was too late – the unfortunate girl was dying and the surgeon was forced to admit that nothing could be done for her. The magistrate, Mr Wade, was sent for to take her deposition, and three days later, on 8 March, Hannah’s body was buried at Budbrooke parish church.

  At the Coroners’ Court, William was found guilty of wilful murder and sent to be tried at the Warwick Assizes. The trial took place on 30 March 1812 and William’s defence lawyer pleaded ‘insanity’. He began by calling all the witnesses who could prove William was mentally deranged. When Mrs Hammond gave her evidence, the court asked, ‘Have you any doubt in your mind whether the prisoner was deranged at the time you saw him on the stairs when the murder was committed?’ She answered, ‘Not any.’ Several others said exactly the same. The council, Mr Sergeant Vaughan, then addressed the judge, saying he ‘thought it was useless going on with the trial as evident marks of insanity had been proved by the witnesses.’ The judge asked the jury if they were satisfied as to the insanity of the prisoner, or did they still want the trial to continue and all the witnesses to be called. They said they were satisfied and found William guilty of murder but acquitted him on the grounds of insanity. The judge then ordered William to be confined at Her Majesty’s Pleasure.