PEACE’S LATER CAREER――THE WHALLEY RANGE MURDER.
After his return from penal servitude he followed his trade of
picture-frame maker with renewed assiduity. He was very careful to
duly report himself at the police station in the district, in which he
resided, and it appears from all we can gather that the police treated
him generally with the greatest consideration, and never hunted him
down as it is termed. Indeed, they had a great reluctance to expose
him or interfere in any way with him while following his ordinary
avocation.
We have but little to chronicle in respect to Charles Peace from the
time of his release up to the year 1876.
Presumably he was following an honest course of life, but we fear this
was supplemented by occasional acts of dishonesty and depredation.
He, however, managed to steer clear of the law; and no conviction or
even suspicion fell upon him till the year referred to.
It is said that for a short period he opened a provision shop in Hull,
and that he left that town suddenly, for what reason does not
transpire. After this he was again a picture-frame maker in Darnall.
We now propose following up the record of his career in something like
consecutive order that the reader may fully comprehend the events
which ultimately led to his conviction upon the charge of murder.
We have it from reliable authorities that at the time of the
Banner-Cross murder, his mother――Mrs. Jane Peace――lived in
Orchard-street, Sheffield, and she had not seen her son Charles――who
by the way was her favourite son――for two years, on account of a
difference arising out of his taking Mrs. Dyson to her house one night
in 1874.
The precise date at which his intimacy with Mrs. Dyson commenced does
not transpire.
Mrs. Dyson, herself, at the Leeds Assizes, spoke to Peace having lived
next door but one to her and her husband when they resided in
Britannia-road, Darnall, in the earlier part of 1876.
She knew him as a picture-frame maker, and he used to visit the
Dysons, and had been, if he was not actually then, on terms of
undisputed intimacy with the woman whose husband he afterwards
murdered.
Before following the clue to this murder, we must give a brief record
of another crime of a similar nature, which happened in the same year.
Without doubt Peace continued his lawless depredations to a great
extent while residing at Darnall.
The Whalley Range murder caused great popular excitement.
An innocent man was convicted and was cast for death. He escaped
suffering the extreme sentence of the law by almost a miracle.
At the time of the occurrence Peace was there to “work” some houses.
He went to a place called Whalley Range.
He had “spotted” a house which he thought he could get into without
much trouble.
He was always respectably dressed, so he declared, for he made a point
of dressing respectably, and for this reason he knew the police never
think of suspecting one who appears in good clothes.
In this way he threw the police off their guard on many occasions.
On the night of the fatal occurrence Charles Peace, in an easy,
careless, jaunty manner, walked leisurely through the streets of
Manchester.
He had not at this time his friend Bandy-legged Bill with him, or
indeed any other accomplice; but he was a self-reliant man, whose
object was to pick up what he could without the aid of a confederate.
While walking through the streets in Manchester he occasionally went
between policemen, who were exercising their brains as to the burglar
who had “done” some houses there.
Peace laughed in his sleeve. He knew the real culprit, but said
nothing.
He took his way towards the house he designed to work, and as he went
along he passed two policemen on the road.
“I may tell you,” says he, in his confession, “I did not go to any
house by accident; I always went some days, sometimes weeks before,
carefully examining all the surroundings, and then, having ‘spotted’ a
likely house, I studied the neighbourhood both as to the means of
getting in and as to getting away.”
He walked boldly on until he arrived at the house which was to be the
scene of his operation.
The house stood in its own grounds, which were inclosed by a wall, and
in some parts a shrubbery.
When the sun shone, and nature was in her best mood, it was most
picturesque and lightsome, but in the dead hours of the night it was
singularly dreary. This, however, did not matter to Peace, who was
bent upon “cracking the crib,” as he termed it.
Upon arriving at the place of his destination, he considered for a few
moments, and then determined upon his plan of action.
His object was to get into the grounds which surrounded the habitation
in the dusk of the evening, and then wait a convenient time to effect
an entrance into the house.
There were policemen about whom Peace managed to dodge for a time.
They had, however, observed him, and were, in consequence, on the
watch.
This fact he was not aware of; had he been so, the chances are that he
would not have made any attempt on the house that night.
He, however, walked into the grounds through the gate, and before he
was able to begin his operations, he heard a step and a rustling
behind him. He became suddenly alarmed, and turned sharply round,
when, to his dismay, he beheld a policeman, whose figure was the same
as one of the two he had passed on the road. The constable in question
was making the best of his way into the grounds.
He had evidently seen Peace, turned back, and followed.
Peace came to the conclusion that he could not work that night. He
therefore doubled, to elude the constable.
For a moment he succeeded, and taking a favourable opportunity, he
endeavoured to make his escape.
With surprising agility he sprang up on the top of the wall which
inclosed the grounds, but a fresh misfortune now befel him.
As he was dropping down and had cleared the premises, he almost fell
into the arms of a second policeman, who must have been planted in the
expectation that he would escape that way.
The policeman made a grab at our hero, who was by this time driven to
a state of desperation, for he was under the impression that he would
be captured, and then his previous convictions would be brought
against him, and he would be sent to penal servitude again.
Peace was nettled that he had been disturbed, and his blood was up and
all his worst passions in the ascendant, for he had “spotted” the
house for a long time, and it had been a favourite project of his to
rifle it of its most valuable and portable contents.
“You stand back, or I’ll shoot you!” cried Peace, in a voice of
concentrated rage.
But the ill-fated young man was brave, and bent upon doing his
duty――such officers are a credit to the force, and cannot be too
highly commended――but alas! the poor fellow paid a fearful penalty for
his gallant conduct.
He would not stand back and let the burglar pass, so Peace stepped
back a few yards and fired wide at him, for the purpose of frightening
him; but the brave young fellow was not to be intimidated.
Peace, in his whining hypocritical confession, declared――
“That he had a great repugnance to taking human life. I never wanted
to murder anybody. I only wanted to do what I came to do and to get
away.”
Amiable man!
“But it does seem odd after all that I should have to be hanged for
having taken life, the very thing I always endeavoured to avoid. I
have never willingly or knowingly hurt a living creature. I would not
even hurt an animal, much less a man. That is why I fired wide at him.
But the policeman, like most Manchester policemen, was a determined
man. They are a very obstinate lot, those Manchester policemen. He was
no doubt as determined as I was myself, and you know when I am put to
it I can do what very few men can do.”
This is Peace’s own account of the encounter.
After he had fired wide at the ill-fated young man, Cock, the latter
seized hold of his staff, and was evidently bent on capturing the
ruffian. He rushed at Peace, whom he was about to strike.
The burglar now saw that he had no time to lose. He was determined not
to be captured, and was bent on effecting his escape at all hazards,
even if it was at the sacrifice of human life.
He discharged another barrel of his revolver, in the hopes of
disabling the arm of the officer, who held the staff.
The ball entered the unfortunate man’s breast, and the poor fellow,
with a deep groan, fell to the earth.
Peace managed to make his escape.
Policeman Cock had received his death wound, the bleeding from which
was chiefly internal.
His comrades came to his assistance and raised him up, but he was in
such acute agony that he begged of them to leave him alone.
He was, however, removed, and very shortly afterwards breathed his
last.
Peace got clear off, and no one for a moment suspected that he had any
hand in the murder.
Suspicion fell upon some young men in the neighbourhood――the brothers
Habron. The police, when once they have fixed their minds upon any
theory as to the guilt of a person or persons, cling to it with the
utmost pertinacity.
The Habrons were aroused from their beds on the fatal night, soon
after the commission of the crime of murder.
They slept in a cottage or shed which stood on the grounds, where they
worked as gardeners or agricultural labourers, the brothers being in
the service of a Mr. Deakin.
William Habron, it was suggested, had threatened to shoot Policeman
Cock if he did anything to either him or his brothers; and it was
moreover alleged that he had on many occasions displayed great
animosity towards the deceased. So the police were under the
impression that he was the guilty person.
The trial took place in August, 1876.
The principal, perhaps the only, points condemnatory of William Habron
when tried were――firstly, his threats uttered against the unfortunate
officer; secondly, his going to the shop of Mr. Moore in order to ask
the price of a revolver, and of some ball cartridges; thirdly, that a
man wearing a certain shaped coat and hat, similar to those worn by
Habron, was seen by two persons near the scene of the murder; and,
lastly, the footprint which corresponded with Habron’s left boot.
These facts, though circumstantially bearing upon the case in the eyes
and minds of the police authorities――eyes that were absolutely
prepared, before a single examination took place, to look upon the
brothers Habron as the guilty parties――were still too flimsy to any
unprejudiced mind to form any solid foundation for placing a man’s
life in jeopardy, unless well supported by far more grave and weighty
evidence.
Indeed, Mr. Justice Lopes, in his charge to the grand jury, pointed
out that no firearms had been found in possession of the prisoners,
that there was no evidence against John Habron at all, and the only
evidence that could be adduced against William was that of wearing a
dress similar to that seen, on a dark night, by some persons near the
spot, his having used threats, the footprints, and his inquiry for
cartridges which he did not purchase.
Mr. Justice Lopes would evidently have not been astonished had the
grand jury ignored the bill.
Before commenting on the evidence brought forward under the
supervision of Superintendent Bent, it would be just as well to
mention one important speech of that officer’s, which forms a key at
once to his whole working of the case.
He says, “On hearing of the murder I immediately suspected the
Habrons.”
That Cock was foully murdered none, of course, could doubt; but who
fired the fatal shot could not fail to be a matter of serious doubt to
any person who read the particulars of the affair in the daily papers
whilst the sad event was under investigation.
F. Wilson, a witness on the trial, deposed that John Habron told him
that if ever the “Little Bobby” (their nick-name for Cock) did
anything to either him or his brother he would _shoot_ him.
Mrs. Carter, wife of the landlord of the “Royal Oak,” said that if the
said “Little Bobby” did not stop persecuting him and his brother, they
would _shunt_ him through their “gaffer,” Mr. Deakin, as he would not
be the first policeman they had shunted.
Mrs. Fox gave evidence that John Habron (who was under the necessity
of appearing at the police-court on the Monday, to answer the charge
of drunk and disorderly conduct, preferred by the deceased) said to
her, “If he does me to-day I’ll do him on Wednesday.”
James Brownhill deposed to John’s threats to shoot the officer.
The savage threats made by the acquitted John, and the expression used
by William, must have been, to say the least of it, frightfully
overrated to bear a construction of murder, and yet that construction
was put upon it the result of the trial of this ill-used young man
shows.
The next point which was supposed to bear upon the guilt of William
Habron is that of his having gone to the shop of Mr. Moore, the
ironmonger, to ask the price of and to examine some ball-cartridges
(the revolvers were brought out and shown him by the shop-man,
M‘Clelland, unasked for).
Here the witness cannot swear whether it was on Monday or Tuesday the
transaction occurred.
But he swore to the man, although he had probably never seen him
before in his life, nor, in the ordinary way of business, would he
take any more notice of him than he would of any other casual
customer.
And, moreover, the other servants in the shop, although having had the
same facilities of recognition, did not think it the same man, and
declined to confirm M‘Clelland’s statement.
In addition to this, he neither purchased cartridges nor pistol; so
that the visit to Mr. Moore’s shop, as a piece of evidence, even if
made by Habron, is of no value whatever.
The little item of finding two percussion caps, introduced by
Superintendent Bent, was evidently a superfluity, as Mr. Deakin, the
employer of Habron, says the caps might easily have been in the
waistcoat pocket when he gave it to Habron, as he had been using his
gun just before, and had probably put some caps in the pocket.
The actual bullet extracted from the body of the unfortunate policeman
was pronounced by an experienced gunsmith to have been fired from a
No. 442 pin-fire cartridge, which was the largest size but one then
made.
The third standpoint in the case made out against William Habron is
that of dress and general appearance, which bore a similarity to the
dress and general appearance of the man seen near the scene of the
murder by two witnesses.
J. M. Simpson, who had been walking and conversing with the deceased,
had only just left him when he met this man; he described him as an
elderly man, and declared that he walked with a stooping gait.
Police-constable Beanland, whose evidence was perhaps the most
important, under present circumstances, in the whole case, said that
the man was about twenty-two years of age, and walked quite erect; and
from general appearance he thought it must have been William Habron.
The man under notice, says Beanland, went along Seymour-grove to Mr.
Greatorex’s gate, and he there lost sight of him; and on going to the
gate he found it open. He went in at the gate, and examined Mr.
Greatorex’s premises, but found all right, and then heard two shots,
and found the deceased on the ground at West Point.
We next come to that conclusive evidence of Habron’s guilt as
established by Superintendent Bent――the footprints.
He deposed to the examination of the footprints with great exactitude.
He was totally unable to count the nails in the outside row as they
were so closely together, but on the inside row they were thicker
nails in one line, and the same number of indentations were visible in
the footprints; and there were two middle rows of nails and two nails
in the toe; the heel iron was worn, and there were three nails in it.
That Mr. Justice Lindley did not think the evidence conclusive against
William Habron, the following conclusion to his summing up will
testify. He said:――“With regard to William Habron, was there any
evidence that he was on the spot where the murder was committed on the
night in question? There was the evidence, such as it was, of the
witness Simpson and Police-constable Beanland, and they had the
evidence of the footprints, and he asked them to satisfy themselves
that the impression was the impression of William’s left boot. If they
were of opinion such impression was not that of William they would
have but little difficulty in dealing with the case. If they were, on
the contrary, satisfied the impression was made by William’s boot,
then came the next question.――What other evidence is there to show
when it was made? For that was a serious conclusion for them to make,
because, according to the evidence for the defence, he could not have
been there the day previously; and the question was, the print would
not have been there if not made recently. He then reviewed the
evidence in their favour: Firstly, they were of good character.
Secondly, when arrested they were where they ought to have been――in
bed. Third, no trace of firearms had been found.”
After the verdict the learned judge did not, as is usual, express his
concurrence in the jury’s opinion, but simply said――
“You have been found guilty of murdering Nicholas Cock, and it is my
duty to pass sentence upon you,” and again, a few moments after, “I
shall simply discharge my duty by passing sentence upon you.”
Notwithstanding the doubt existing after the trial and sentence as to
Habron’s guilt he had a narrow chance of being hanged, and he would
certainly have been doomed to penal servitude for life had not Peace,
in a fit of remorse, told the truth about the whole business while
under sentence of death in Armley gaol.
Peace had the audacity and hardihood to be present at the trial of
William Habron, and looked complacently on while an innocent man was
being condemned to death for a crime he (Peace) had committed.
“Some time afterwards,” observed Peace, “I saw it announced in the
papers that certain men had been taken into custody for the murder of
the policeman Cock. That greatly interested me. I always had a liking
to be present at trials, as the public no doubt know by this time, and
I determined to be present at this trial. I left Hull for Manchester
for two days, not telling my family where I had gone, and attended the
assizes at Manchester for two days, and heard the youngest of the
brothers, as I was told he was, sentenced to death. The sentence was
afterwards commuted to penal servitude for life. Now some people say
that I was a hardened wretch for allowing an innocent man to suffer
for the crime of which I was guilty; but what man could have gone and
given himself up under such circumstances, knowing as I did that I
should certainly be hanged for the crime?”