Overview
Though the Battle of Worcester brought an end to the English Civil War in 1651, it was not the end of the bloodshed for the West Midland county of Worcestershire. Known for its rolling hills and abundant farmland, it has also been fertile ground for thieves, murderers, and scoundrals of all sorts. Foul Deeds & Suspicious Deaths Around Worcester takes readers on a journey through centuries of sinister crimes, from the infamous to the stuff of local legend.
Worcester’s dark past goes back to the seventeenth century, when highwaymen haunted the surrounding forests. In this chilling volume, crime historian and Worcestershire resident Anne Bradford chronicles the county’s history of forgery and betrayal, highway robbery and murder, riots and public executions. She also uncovers instances of domestic cruelty that resulted in death. From premediated crimes to desperate acts of passion, a range of human drama is covered in stories such as “The Gentleman who Murdered his Mother,” “The Lovers’ Pact,” and “Death of a Hop-picker,” among others.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781844687046 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Pen & Sword Books Limited |
| Publication date: | 02/20/2019 |
| Series: | Foul Deeds & Suspicious Deaths |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 160 |
| Sales rank: | 637,765 |
| File size: | 9 MB |
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Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
The Garibaldi and the Rubber Gloves – Worcester
All murders are tragic events, bringing a life to a sudden, and often brutal, end. The lives of two families are shattered, those of the victim and those of the murderer. The horror can also reverberate to include many innocent people, for example, the two schoolboys cycling to school at Lickey End who had the unpleasant experience of finding a body (Chapter 7); Mrs Hassall's spotless house at Foxlydiate accidentally burning to the ground with the victim (Chapter 8); or the maid at Upton Snodsbury who ran to help her mistress and was killed (Chapter 2).
The murders at the Garibaldi Inn of 1925 were particularly tragic. One reason is that they involved a small child; another is that they were murders that should not have occurred. The murderer had been discharged from the navy on medical grounds, so why was he admitted to the police force? And again, it was so near – only a couple of decades – to the medical advances that would have prevented the tragedy.
The A44 from Pershore and Evesham approaches Worcester from the south-east, and as it nears the centre of the city it becomes known as 'Sidbury'. The gates of the city were here and, in 1651, this is where some of the fiercest fighting of the Battle of Worcester took place. A plaque on the bridge of the Worcester and Birmingham canal commemorates the event. Just before the canal bridge is a narrow one-way street, Wyld's Lane. On its western side, near the Sidbury end, was once an inn, known as the Garibaldi. The name was changed to the Lamplighter, then, in 1996, to the Welcome Inn. Perhaps the owners thought that a change of name would help folk to forget its terrible past.
At seven o'clock in the morning on Friday, 27 November 1925, Mrs Hardwick, the cleaning lady, went round to the Garibaldi. The first strange thing was that the front door was open – no one had locked it. In the bar the till was lying on the ground and there was a quantity of copper and other coins scattered about, together with discs for the automatic machines. Everything was deathly quiet. She went upstairs to the licensee's 6-year-old-girl, Joan, who was fast asleep. Joan woke up when Mrs Hardwick entered the room and they exchanged a few words. She peeped into the baby's room, where 2-year-old Bobby appeared to be sleeping peacefully, face down in his cot. Of the licensees, Mr and Mrs Laight, there was no sign.
Ernest George Elton Laight had only been the licensee of the Garibaldi for seven months. Before then he had been a barber with a shop in New Street. He was 32 years of age and grew up in Worcester, a bright lad, keen on sports, especially football. When he left school he became a hairdresser but enlisted during the First World War and fought in France. During the war he married a local girl, Dolly Tolley. Trade at the Garibaldi was dwindling when he took it over, but he was an amiable man, open and friendly, and by November the Garibaldi was booming.
Mrs Hardwick decided to get help. She knocked up two nearby residents of Wyld's Lane. One of them, Mr Oram, had a look round: there was still no sign of the Laights. Seeing a door that led from the kitchen into the cellar, he went down the steps. He later described his reaction to the sight that awaited him as 'stricken a bit'.
He saw Mr Laight lying on the floor, outstretched. Then he saw another body lying face downwards, which he thought at first was another man. Part of the clothing was burned so that the buttocks were exposed and charred. The floor was covered with pieces of burned paper. Someone had evidently tried to burn the bodies. He rushed upstairs and found the baby stretched out in his cot, also dead. Of the Laight family, only the little girl was alive.
Police Constable Knight was the first to arrive, at a quarter to eight, followed by Dr Walpole, the pathologist, and Detective Sergeant Fisher. In the kitchen was a cash box containing only fifteen sixpenny pieces. In a cupboard in the baby's room was an empty cash box. The average takings at the Garibaldi were about £30 a week. Mr Laight had last cashed up on the 9th, and so there should have been about £80 in the boxes. On a table in the kitchen were five bottles of spirits, four of which had been opened and a little taken from each. On the top of the cellar steps was a pair of rubber gloves.
Rumours spread like wildfire. Mr Oram thought they had been poisoned, as the baby had no signs of injury and in the darkness and chaos of the cellar he could see no blood.
Little Joan was taken to stay with Mrs Laight's mother, who kept the Green Man on a busy road, the Tything, a few streets away. The grandmother had remarried a Mr Harrison and it was he who identified the bodies. Mr Laight's mother was in Australia.
Dr Walpole immediately began a post-mortem examination. Mr Laight's body showed signs of scorching and there was a bullet in his chest that had gone through his heart and lung. The second body turned out to be that of Mrs Laight, who had both burns and abrasions, as if she had been dragged across the floor. There was a bullet at the lower end of her sternum (breastbone), penetrating her heart and lung. The baby had a fractured skull and had been hit with a heavy object. At 3.30 pm Dr Walpole announced that the couple had died of gunshot wounds.
Repairs were being carried out to the road outside and a watchman had been on duty all night, but he had neither heard nor seen anything.
A Surprising Suspect
About the same time that the cleaner, Mrs Hardwick, was fetching her neighbours to search the Garibaldi Inn, Police Constable Herbert Burrows was coming off duty to have breakfast. He wandered over to see his colleague, Constable Devey, who was on duty at the Cross nearby and the two went off to have breakfast together. He said that he was feeling bad, with pains in his heart. Devey told him to take some sal volatile. Then Burrows said, 'Have you heard about the affair at the Garibaldi?' He said that he had heard that two people were dead, and that they had been shot. He described to Devey how they were found. He added that the kiddie was dead in bed, that the drawers had been pulled out and money scattered about. Several bottles of whisky were on the table, opened but not emptied.
Ten minutes later he said, 'Funny thing, Billie, I was having two glasses of whisky with "Ern" Laight at twelve o'clock. I was the last with him.' He asked Devey if this would stop him going on leave, because he wanted to go to London. Devey said that he did not think it would. A few minutes later PC Burrows asked the same question again. At this Devey became annoyed. He answered sharply, 'Do you think the police force can't do without you?' It was obvious that all was not well with PC Burrows. Devey reported the conversation to Detective Sergeant Fisher.
Burrows was on a tour of duty from 6 am to 2 pm, after which he was due to go on leave. At one o'clock he was fetched from his beat by Detective Sergeant Fisher. First Fisher asked him at what time he had left the inn the previous evening. Burrows replied 'at about ten-thirty'. Then Fisher asked him how he knew about the murders so quickly; Burrows said that he had been told by a man from Webb's in Lower Moor. He added that he hoped that this would not affect his leave. Fisher told him to remain in the station. Burrows was lodging with Mrs Simpkins at 92 Wyld's Lane, so Fisher collected Detective Constable Beasley and they went to search Burrows's rooms.
They found in his room some £1 notes, ten shilling notes, some silver and a sovereign and a mounted sovereign, amounting in all to about £87. Four tokens for the automatic machine in the Garibaldi were scattered about on the floor. In a locked drawer in his bedroom was a revolver with five live cartridges and a box with thirty-five cartridges; three of the cases were empty. Documents revealed that Burrows was heavily in debt to money lenders. Neighbours were questioned: George Sharpe, a clerk living at 116 Wyld's Lane, said that he had seen Burrows in the Garibaldi at ten o'clock and he was still there when Sharpe left at eleven-thirty.
At 4.15 pm Burrows said he wished to make a voluntary statement. He was asked whether he wanted to write it down himself, or if he would like the sergeant to assist. He chose the latter and dictated the following:
I, Herbert Burrows, 22 years of age, voluntarily and fully admit to you that I killed at 1.50 on November 27 Mr and Mrs Laight and Bobby Laight. The cause will remain unknown. I apologize to the officers and men of the Worcester City Police for the disgrace this has incurred.
Over the following weeks he repeated the story of the murders many times. First he shot Mr Laight in the cellar. Mrs Laight, on hearing the shot, came down the cellar stairs and asked, 'What is the matter?' Mr Laight, who was then dying, said, 'He shot me.' Burrows shot Mrs Laight when she gave out a scream, and, on entering the child's room to take the cash box, he killed him too in order to stop him making a noise. The constable then returned to his lodgings and had a good night's sleep.
Burrows had only been a probationary officer for six months, coming from New Barnet in Hertfordshire. His father had died and his mother had remarried an ex-police officer four years previously. He was a troubled teenager: at 15 he was bound over to keep the peace and at 16 was found guilty of shop-breaking, put on probation and sent to a boys' home in Carmarthen. From there he apparently joined the navy, where he was not popular among his contemporaries. He loved showing off and liked to be in the limelight. His nickname was 'Duke of Telegrams', as he was always sending telegrams. He boasted to his colleagues how easy it was to wangle leave and often seemed to be absent.
On leaving the navy, he became a chauffeur in Hertfordshire. He then joined the police force and was transferred to the Police Training Centre in Birmingham, where he was thought to be full of promise. The staff described him as a pleasant, agreeable person and a good scholar. His colleagues and his landlady described him as a decent, quiet, kindly man. When he was stationed in Worcester, the Garibaldi Inn was his favourite off-duty haunt, and he became friendly with the Laight family. Unfortunately, he had developed a liking for London night-life that required an expenditure far beyond that of his wages as a police constable.
After the arrest Burrows was taken to Gloucester prison, where he was charged on Saturday, 28 November. The first inquest in Worcester was interrupted by police court proceedings and had to be resumed a fortnight later. A huge crowd gathered outside the court to catch a glimpse of him. The train from Gloucester was delayed because of smog, leaving Burrows with only half an hour to spare. There was just time for him to have a few words with his mother through the grill of the cell door in the county police station before he went to court. His mother, described in the press as a 'tall stately woman of distinguished bearing', was so distressed that she was unable to attend court and had to return home. Burrows's brother, Jack, who bore a strong resemblance to him, also arrived. Jack said to the press:
He was a good lad; he wrote (to) his mother regularly and was genuinely in love with his sweetheart. He was looking forward to his marriage and so far as we know, was quite happy in every way. My mother is heartbroken. She came to Worcester on Thursday to hear the police proceedings but was so overcome that she had to leave for home again. What sorrow we have for him is shared by our feeling of real grief for the Worcester Police and especially the relatives and friends of the Laights.
In court, Burrows stood between two warders, apparently unmoved but pale. There was no doubt of his guilt. The extracted bullets matched those in Burrows's room. Mr Laight's sister identified the mounted sovereign as one she had given the murdered innkeeper. The exact sum of money that should have been in the cash box in the inn was found in his room, together with discs from the automatic machine. His landlady identified the rubber gloves as those she had seen in his room – in the 1920s rubber gloves were a luxury, rarely used.
Burrows's behaviour was unusual, to say the least. While the jury were signing their names to the verdict sheet, he whispered to one of the warders and smiled.
Sensation in Court
The trial was held at the end of January. A rumour had been circulating that there was going to be a new development in the case, and that a counsel had been instructed to defend Burrows. So many people gathered outside court that only a tenth were admitted.
Burrows stood to attention, stiff and erect, and when the judge asked him how he was going to plead he said 'Not guilty' in a firm, clear voice. A ripple of astonishment went through the courtroom.
During the proceedings he shuffled and shifted, his eyes wandered from side to side as if he was not interested in the affair; but when it came to a report on his medical condition, he leaned forward and took an interest.
His medical sheet showed that while still in the navy, before joining the police force, he had congenital syphilis. He first went into Chatham Naval Hospital with ulcers on his left leg on 18 December 1921, four years before the murder. The disease was diagnosed five weeks later. He was in hospital again in 1923 and discharged from the navy.
Until the discovery of penicillin, syphilis was the scourge of the civilized world, generally known as 'the great pox'. It caused widespread sickness, misery and death. Usually transmitted sexually, the virus can also be passed on to the unborn foetus via its mother, resulting in congenital syphilis. The first phase is a small red pimple which gradually changes and becomes ulcerated. The disease goes through several stages, with periods of apparent inactivity in between.
The virus can attack any tissues of the body. It can produce an inflammatory lesion affecting the nerve cells of the brain, when it is known as general paralysis of the insane; this can occur in congenital syphilis. Among the symptoms are slight loss of memory, inability to concentrate and attacks of depression. If these symptoms are not treated the patient develops delusions of grandeur. He may order expensive items for which he cannot pay and imagine that he is somebody very great.
A test for the disease had been invented by Wasserman in 1906. Accordingly, Burrows was diagnosed, though he could not be cured; Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin in 1928, but the medicine was not refined sufficiently for general use until the 1940s.
Three medical officers were called. Dr Bell of Gloucester prison had Burrows under observation for two months. Mr Fenton was the medical supervisor at the County Mental Hospital in Powick. He talked to Burrows in Gloucester prison and reported that Burrows told him details of the crime with an air of detachment. When Burrows told the medical officer at Winson Green about the murders, he laughed, as if it were a great joke. All three medical officers agreed that one of the first signs of general paralysis of the insane was great talkativeness and cheerfulness (although many doctors cite depression as one of the first symptoms). It was possible that Burrows did not realize the enormity of the offence as a normal man would have done, though he did know that he had done something wrong.
Burrows said that he was in the habit of carrying a pistol with him and that he had no idea he was going to use it until he was in the cellar with Laight. Then a feeling of helplessness or weakness overcame him, and he used it automatically.
The defence was therefore one of insanity, but when the public prosecutor addressed the jury, he described it as a cold, calculated crime. Burrows had planned it for the end of the month when the maximum takings were in the inn and just before he was due to go on leave. He may have been in the habit of carrying a pistol, but he was not in the habit of carrying a pair of rubber gloves. This proved that the crime was carefully planned and premeditated, not the action of an insane man.
The judge concluded that the prosecution had shown a motive, that of robbery, and Burrows was consequently sentenced to death. The execution took place in Gloucester gaol. However, within a few years he would have been dead anyway from general paralysis of the insane. His limbs would have constantly trembled, he would have been unable to stand, he would have become mentally confused and disorientated and in the final stages he would have been doubly incontinent.
As for little 6-year-old Joan Laight, it was discovered that her father held a registration certificate as a reader of John Bull with £1,000 free insurance benefit. This entitled the survivor to £1,000 in the event of the death of husband and wife (permanently residing together) by violence caused by burglars or housebreakers entering for the purpose of robbing. The certificate was not discovered for several days, but it was reported to the authorities within the stipulated time period and a claim was made. The proceeds were enough to provide for the child's education and maintenance, and enabled Joan to live in Worcester with her grandparents. She survived to a ripe old age.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths Around in Worcester"
by .
Copyright © 2008 Anne Bradford.
Excerpted by permission of Pen and Sword Books Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements,
Preface,
Chapter 1 The Garibaldi and the Rubber Gloves – Worcester,
Chapter 2 The Gentleman who Murdered his Mother – Upton Snodsbury,
Chapter 3 Death to the Vicar! – Oddingley,
Chapter 4 Murder on the Christian Shores – Stourport-on-Severn,
Chapter 5 Death of a Hop-picker – Kidderminster,
Chapter 6 Who Put Bella in the Wych-elm? – Hagley,
Chapter 7 Calling Inspector Foyle – Lickey End, Near Bromsgrove,
Chapter 8 The Flitch of Bacon Murder – Foxlydiate, Near Redditch,
Chapter 9 Murdered on Active Duty – Wythall, Near Alvechurch,
Chapter 10 The Lovers' Pact – Redditch and Northfield,
Chapter 11 Friends and Enemies – Evesham,
Chapter 12 The Brothers Grim – Wood Norton, Near Evesham,
Chapter 13 Massacre of the Innocents – Severn Stoke, Near Upton-on-Severn,
Bibliography,
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