Cambridgeshire Murders Read online

  Cambridgeshire

  MURDERS

  Alison Bruce

  For Jacen

  Thank you for encouraging me to write and for introducing me to such a diverse and fascinating part of England

  First published in 2005 by Sutton Publishing

  The History Press

  The Mill, Brimscombe Port

  Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

  www.thehistorypress.co.uk

  This ebook edition first published in 2012

  All rights reserved

  © Alison Bruce, 2010, 2012

  The right of Alison Bruce, to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 8413 6

  MOBI ISBN 978 0 7524 8412 9

  Original typesetting by The History Press

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  1 The Flaming Heart

  2 Arsenic and Old Laws

  3 Prime Minister’s Elimination Time

  4 The Early Bird Catches the Killer

  5 From Waterhouse to Slaughterhouse

  6 A Fatal Attraction

  7 The One Shilling Killing

  8 ’Tis Quite Harmless

  9 An Ironic Twist of the Knife

  10 A Good Night Out and a Bad Night Inn

  11 Eat, Drink and be Murdered

  12 The Little Shop of Secrets

  13 A Different Sort of First for Cambridge

  14 The Dog was the First to Die

  15 To Love, Honour but Mostly Obey

  16 Other Notable Cambridgeshire Crimes

  Select Bibliography

  Acknowledgements

  INTRODUCTION

  Cambridgeshire, which now incorporates its old neighbour Huntingdonshire, is largely rural and therefore not densely populated. Without any major cities, it is understandable that the crime rate for the county is lower than that of many other shires; but this does not mean that the murders that do occur there are in any sense mundane; in fact, many achieved such notoriety that they became cases of national interest.

  When I first began to research this book I knew I would come across old and interesting murder cases that had not been fully documented. Those selected here cover three centuries of Cambridgeshire history, highlighting changes in society as well as trends in methods of committing murder. Although most cases were solved, in some the accuracy of the verdict and the fairness of the trial often served as good examples of why the laws allowing the admission of hearsay and circumstantial evidence needed to be changed; ‘Arsenic and Old Laws’ is a particularly good example.

  Much of the research has involved going back to original assize and other period documents. Unfortunately, Cambridgeshire’s inquest records relating to the period between the late 1800s and the late 1930s were destroyed by flooding – having been stored in a basement. Conversely, some of the best surviving documents are the oldest – the Ely Diocese Records include many sheets of beautiful handwritten statements, often signed by witnesses with a shaky ‘X’.

  While many of the county’s murder cases are covered by the Newgate Calendar, I have not used this source verbatim: if you come across a copy you may notice differences between the details reported there and the information used in this book. This is because when cross-checking sources, I often found inaccuracies in the calendar – which of course does not mean that this is not an interesting source from which to initiate an investigation.

  One reported murder that I chose not investigate further was the killing of a young lad named George Burnham. Although the case appears to be interesting, contemporary documentation was too limited to shed much more light on the case. The following is from the Newgate Calendar and demonstrates the sensationalist and ‘fire and brimstone’ nature of the publication:

  RICHARD FAULKNER A Boy, executed at Wisbech, in 1810, for the Murder of another Lad of Twelve Years of Age

  RICHARD FAULKNER was, at the Summer Assizes for Norfolk, 1810, capitally convicted of the wilful murder of George Burnham, a lad about twelve years of age, at Whittlesea, on the 15th of February, by cruelly beating him to death, for no other cause than for revenge on Burnham’s mother, who had thrown some dirty water upon him.

  The prisoner was not sixteen, but so shockingly depraved and hardened that after condemnation he repeatedly clenched his fist and threatened to murder the clergyman who attended the jail, or anyone who dared to approach him. Indeed he was so ferocious that the jailer found it necessary to chain his hands and feet to his dungeon, where he uttered the most horrid oaths and imprecations on all who came near him; and from the Friday to Saturday night refused to listen to any religious advice or admonition.

  At length, to prevent the termination of his existence in this depraved state, the expedient was devised of procuring a child about the size of the one murdered, and similar in feature and dress, whom two clergymen unexpectedly led between them, by the hands, into the cell, where he lay sulkily chained to the ground; but on their approach he started, and seemed so completely terrified that he trembled in every limb; cold drops of sweat profusely fell from him, and he was almost continuously in such a dreadful state of agitation that he entreated the clergymen to continue with him, and from that instant became as contrite a penitent as he had before been callous and insensible.

  In this happy transition he remained till his execution on Monday morning, having fully confessed his crime, and implored, by fervent prayer, the forgiveness of his sins from a merciful God!

  Writing and researching this book has been a hugely enjoyable experience, especially when I have had the opportunity to see artefacts or visit places connected with the cases described. Walking along the narrow street outside Miss Lawn’s old shop, seeing the hangman’s noose that hanged one of these murderers or standing in a rainy Burwell churchyard next to the Flaming Heart were moments that made me feel as if I were touching Cambridgeshire’s past. I hope that the cases included and the illustrations chosen will make some of the darkest stories from our county’s history come alive for you too.

  1

  THE FLAMING HEART

  One of England’s earliest fairs was held at Stourbridge, Cambridge, and was granted a charter in 1211. Many authors wrote about the fair and in 1724 Daniel Defoe gave a detailed account: ‘ . . . it cannot be very unpleasant, especially to the trading part of the world, to say something of this fair, which is not only the greatest in the whole nation, but in the world . . .’.

  The fair originally lasted for two days but by the middle of the sixteenth century it ran from 24 August to 29 September each year. A vast array of products was on sale until the last day, which was reserved as a horse-fair. Defoe’s description notes:

  Towards the latter end of the fair, and when the great hurry of wholesale business begins to be over, the gentry come in from all parts of the county round; and though they come for their diversion, yet it is not a little money they lay out, which generally falls to the share of the retailers, such as toy-shops, goldsmiths, braziers, ironmongers, turners, milliners, mercers, etc., and some loose coins they reserve for the puppet shows, drolls, rope-dancers, and such like, of which there is no want, though not consider-able like the rest.
/>
  One of the puppet shows mentioned by Defoe belonged to Robert Shepheard, who was travelling towards Cambridge in the early part of September 1727 with his wife Martha, his daughter, also called Martha, and a couple of servants. Running low on funds, as they were passing through the village of Burwell they decided to raise some money by putting on a puppet show. On 8 September 1727 they hired a barn from a Mr Wosson. It was a clunch1 barn with a thatched roof, and situated near Cuckolds Row.

  The interior of the barn was approximately 17ft 6in high, 45ft long and 16ft 9in wide. The straw bales inside were stacked up to about 9ft, leaving about a third of the area available for the puppet show. Adjoining the building, and separated by just a lathe and plaster wall, was stabling. This partition was the same height as the stone walls of the barn, about 9ft, and the stable and its hayloft shared the same thatched roof as the barn.

  The arrival of the puppet show caused much excitement in the village and there was a rush to gain admission at the price of 1d per person. With far more people wishing to see the show than the barn could hold, it was decided to lock the doors from the inside – many reports describe them as being ‘nailed shut’.

  The audience numbered in excess of a hundred with over half being made up of local children and families from nearby villages, including Reach, 2 Swaffham-Prior and Upware. Among them were villagers from all walks of life, including John and Ann Palmer, children of Henry and Sarah, who belonged to a prominent Burwell family, and Thomas Howe, his brother and sister Sarah.

  At about nine in the evening a young ostler named Richard Whitaker was attending to Robert Shepheard’s two horses in the adjacent stable. He was carrying a candle and a lantern. Wanting to see the puppet show but not wishing to pay the entrance fee, he climbed up into the hayloft where he was able to look down into the crowded barn. While there he threw hay down to the stable below; inevitably, some hay caught alight on the naked candle flame and Whitaker rushed from the building to raise the alarm.

  In An Account of a Most Terrible Fire by Thomas Gibbons (see pages 3–4), young Thomas Howe described watching the show while sitting on a beam inside the barn. He was one of the first to spot the flames, which were ‘so small that he thinks he could have enclosed it in his hands’. This small fire began high up in the building very close to the thatched roof, which was unusually dry due to a recent drought. As well as the straw and hay, the inside of the barn was draped in old cobwebs and the fire quickly took hold, rushing along the length of the thatch – according to the parish register, ‘like lightning flew round the barn in an instant’.

  The audience rushed to the door, which was not only sealed but also blocked by an oval table that the puppet master had used earlier in his show. In their desperation to escape they crowded the door and many ended up falling into a great heap behind it.

  Outside the barn, the first to give assistance was a Wicken man, Thomas Dobedee, who happened to be in Burwell. Described as ‘a very stout man, in the prime of life’, he managed to force the door and began pulling survivors from the blaze.

  Thomas Howe saw the doors open and leapt down from his beam on to the pile of bodies below, which he described as being three or four feet deep with not one person left standing. The parish register explains ‘that most of those that did escape were forced to crawl over the heads and bodies of those that lay in a heap at the door’. Thomas Howe’s brother clambered over the bodies accompanied by two smaller boys who refused to let go of him; all three of them managed to reach safety. Two men who had escaped helped Dobedee to rescue others. Dobedee stayed so long that his hair was singed, having put his own life at tremendous risk.

  The wind, however, remained strong, fanning the flames and sending burning stalks of straw into the air. Five other houses in the neighbourhood were razed to the ground, one of which was home to bed-ridden Mary Woodbridge, who perished.

  After about half an hour the thatched roof collapsed and the last hope of rescuing anyone else vanished. Although Thomas Howe and his brother had survived, their sister had died, as had John and Ann Palmer. In total there were about eighty deaths, the bodies transported by cart and buried in two large pits in the graveyard. A gravestone known as ‘The Flaming Heart’ was erected in Burwell cemetery commemorating seventy-eight deaths, although a 1769 account lists seventy-nine with a possibility of two more unnamed victims. The bodies of John and Ann Palmer were buried separately since the Palmer family had its own dedicated area in the churchyard. A number of the casualties were children who had climbed from their bedroom windows to see the show. Also among the dead were the puppeteer and his family.

  The sermon later preached by Alexander Edmondson, vicar of the parish, came from Lamentations 4: 8: ‘Their visage is blacker than coal; they are not known in the streets; their skin cleaveth to their bones: it is withered, it is become like a stick.’

  Richard Whitaker was arrested and charged with arson. He was about 25 years old and came from Hadstock in Essex. Some reports suggest that he was tried at the Essex Assizes, others that he was tried at the Cambridge Assizes. The original assize records for these hearings no longer exist but it seems most likely that he was tried in March 1728 in Cambridge.

  Whitaker was found to have been the cause of the fire, but only through negligence, and so he was acquitted of the charge of arson. Parish records say ‘that the fire was occasioned by the negligence of a servant who set a candle and lantern near the heap of straw which was in or near the barn’.

  Apart from references to the fire in parish records the only other account of the day was a half-sheet produced by a Northampton printer very shortly afterwards. It contained several major inaccuracies including the date being wrong by a day and the listing of an incorrect number of casualties. However, it is still an interesting, if graphic, account:

  September 9th, 1727. At Burwell in Cambridgeshire a Puppet Show was exhibited in a barn, ye doors were locked, and there was a stable adjoining to it where a boy was got with design to see it, for which purpose he climbed up upon some beams and took his candle with him, while he was viewing ye show fell down among a heap of straw and find it alight which ye boy perceiving he sprung out and narrowly escaped. The fire burning very fierce had catcht ye roof of this barn before ye people perceived it, ye doors were lockt to keep people out, and with some difficulty ye doors were broke and some escaped – but the rest pushing to get out wedged one another in yet none could stir till the roof fell in and 105 persons perished in ye flames. Some few were escapd into an adjoining yard which was built round with thatcht houses and on fire, but were forced to lie down and perish in it. An excise man and his child perished there and his wife is since quite distracted. After the fire was abated they found here an arm and there a leg, here a head there a body, some burnt with their bowels hanging out, most deplorable sight. There were abundance of people from the adjacent towns in ye number all most young persons.

  The Revd Thomas Gibbons wrote An Account of a Most Terrible Fire, a more comprehensive account of the incident, published by J. Buckland in London in 1769. Gibbons had spent some of his childhood in Reach and in 1728 attended a school in Little Swaffham, just outside Burwell. He saw the site of the fire and many years later revisited Burwell and drew his account from village records and the memories of survivors, primarily Thomas Howe, who were keen to have the fire recorded more accurately than the account produced at the time.

  The fire had a huge impact on the small rural village of Burwell and its surrounding hamlets. Of Burwell’s 800 inhabitants at the time, it is said that barely a family escaped without loss.

  The barn was located in Cuckolds Row, near the footpath which now runs between the pharmacy and the bank. Since the fire some villagers have claimed to have heard the ghostly clanking of water pails.

  In February 1774 the following report appeared in the Cambridge Chronicle:

  A report prevails that an old man died a few days ago at a village near Newmarket (Fordham), who just before his death seemed
very unhappy; said he had a Burthen on his Mind, which he must disclose. He then confessed that he set Fire to the Barn at Burwell on ye 8th. of September 1727, when no less than 80 persons unhappily lost their lives; that he was an Ostler at that Time, at or near Cambridge, and having an Antipathy to the Puppet Show Man was the cause of his committing that diabolical Action, which was attended with such dreadful consequences.

  Frustratingly, the man is not named, therefore making it impossible to check the likelihood of this claim, but according to parish records the old man in question was not Richard Whitaker.

  Notes

  1 Clunch is a traditional building material, usually a soft limestone, often used in the east of England, where more durable stone is uncommon. It can be rich in iron-bearing clays or be very fine and white – in effect just chalk. As it is not a long-lasting material, it is now used mostly for boundary walls, and occasionally for traditional agricultural buildings. Clunch was quarried in Burwell.

  2 Reach (sometimes spelt Reche) is the location of the Reach Fair, whose charter dates from 1201. The fair is still held in May each year, making it England’s longest surviving fair.

  2

  ARSENIC AND OLD LAWS

  Amy Conquest1 was born to Thomas and Mary Conquest in Whittlesey and baptised on 19 October 1729. The family were not well off but nevertheless Amy’s parents ensured that she received an education until she reached the age of 12. By the age of 16 she had grown into a tall, fine girl and began to receive attention from Thomas Reed2 of Whittlesey.3 Her father did not approve of the liaison and wanted his daughter to stop seeing the young man, but the two had fallen in love and soon consummated their relationship, which, according to a later description in the Newgate Calendar, ‘continued till it became criminal’ .

  Amy fully expected that she would marry and so was shocked when, in the summer of 1748, Thomas told her that he was planning to travel to London and did not know when he would come back to Whittlesey. Despite assuring her that they would marry upon his return, Amy still felt betrayed and began to spend time with another local man, John Hutchinson, who had also been a suitor but one she had not encouraged. Despite the fact that Amy had never particularly liked John, her family, and her father in particular, felt that he was a better choice than Thomas Reed. Consequently, when John formally asked for Amy’s hand in marriage on 24 August 1748, her father was quick to consent. As the wedding was arranged for the very next day, Amy’s father may have thought that a quick wedding would avoid any possibility of the union being spoilt by Thomas Reed’s return.