The Cretingham Murder Read online

  In addition, for the titillation of readers, was the revelation that Mr Bedwell of Brandeston was making the coffin which, in view of the vicar’s size, was taking rather longer than usual. The report finished with the comment that at the Magistrates’ Court it was ‘not likely that examination will be allowed to diverge as it did before the coroner into matters of village scandal through the pertinacity of one juryman.’ In this respect, the journalist got it wrong.

  On Wednesday, the Revd William Gilbert-Cooper did indeed arrive in Framlingham to see his son. The visit was described as being distressing, Arthur having reacted violently to the sight of his parent. And once his father had left, he was said to have ‘indulged in a number of strange antics, playing with his pocket-handkerchief.’ It was also said that he had threatened self-destruction and was so emotionally overwrought he had been unable to sleep. No one doubted that ‘the poor fellow’s mind is completely unhinged.’

  5

  THURSDAY 6 OCTOBER

  1887

  The courtroom in the little town of Framlingham was packed. There was, we are told, even ‘a fair sprinkling of females’ among the spectators. Such was the wide interest in the case that apart from the twelve reporters representing national and county newspapers, the powerful Pall Mall Gazette had sent an artist to make sketches during the proceedings. Unfortunately, none of these was printed.

  This was a special session for the court, one which had caused immediate concern for the local magistrates who usually served as members of the Bench. With the majority of these gentlemen being clergymen, it was questioned if it were not injudicious for clerics to preside in a case involving not one, but two, of themselves. Eventually four lay gentlemen were called for duty that day. Led by the chairman, F.S. Corrance, others were well-known local dignitaries, Col Barlow, C. Austin and J.B. Chevalier.

  The case for the prosecution was presented by H.K. Mosely of Ipswich while for the defence, the Gilbert-Coopers had instructed George Dering of Messrs Woodhouse & Co. of Lincoln’s Inn.A further London barrister, C.E. Machen of Southampton Street, The Strand, was present to ‘watch the case’ on behalf of the widow.

  Perhaps because the inquest had been given so much space, the Magistrates’ Court hearing did not receive such detailed coverage. Despite his lack of sleep the previous night, all the press reports commented on Arthur’s initial composure and the fact that he answered ‘Not Guilty’ to the charge in a clear voice. Thereafter he sat quietly with his arms folded.

  The Dover Express (14 October) gave the following: ‘Mr Mosely for the prosecution related the particulars of the murder. He said the law presumed malice in such a case and it was not for him to suggest a motive but there were several strange circumstances connected with the occurrence.’

  At this point three letters were handed to the magistrates’ clerk to read out. These all related to the details of Arthur’s mental instability and his confinement in hospital.

  Harriet Louisa was then called upon to repeat her evidence yet again. While she was describing her offer to read to the curate during the evening shortly before the tragedy occurred, Arthur struggled to his feet and in an incoherent manner, said something about appealing. He had to be persuaded by the constables guarding him to resume his seat. Three times more he stood up as if to protest but said nothing. Between these outbursts he persisted in putting on his hat which the constables would remove from his head but not from him entirely.

  During her cross-examination by the defence solicitor, Harriet Louisa was asked if she considered the prisoner’s head was ‘not in a fit state’. Before she had time to reply, the prosecution objected to the question, saying that he knew what the defence was but that ‘we must have it regularly.’

  Harriet’s own solicitor, C.E. Machen, then stirred things up by asking her ‘Is there the slightest foundation for saying that there was any impropriety between you and the prisoner?’

  Again she was not given time to answer for the prosecution lawyer was on his feet to declare that certainly he had not alleged such a thing. Mr Machen countered that in justice to his client . . . but here the Bench stepped in and decreed that they would ‘not go into that.’

  After Dr Jones had given his evidence of what he had seen on the night in question, he was asked about his recent visit to Arthur while in custody. He had, he said, found him excited and in unsound mind. However, he would not offer an opinion as to whether or not the prisoner had been insane three days earlier.

  As Dr Jones was describing the wound inflicted upon the victim, Arthur again rose from his seat and passed a forefinger across his throat. The journalist who reported this action took it as an indication that the prisoner was trying to describe the way in which he had inflicted the wound. But there could be another explanation. Just after his arrest, Arthur was reputed to have said, ‘I am a Mason.’ The passing of the hand across the throat is a Masonic sign and it may be that Arthur was attempting to convey the fact of his membership to the court rather than imitating what the doctor had described.

  Bit by bit the various accounts were gone over and along the way certain discrepancies were revealed. For example, Harriet Louisa reverted to her original statement that it was Arthur and not her husband who had laughed defiantly. She was also less clear of her actions after she had discovered her husband lying face down on the floor. She now said that she went to the kitchen at about twelve thirty. When asked why, she replied that she had gone for help from the groom and maid. Asked if she had found them there, she replied she had.

  Dering: Making allowances for your being in an agitated state of mind, are you quite sure the groom had not gone to bed?

  Mrs Farley: Yes, he had and then got up again.

  She then retracted this statement and said she had called them from their beds, as Bilney was to testify.

  No satisfactory explanation could be offered either to account for how Farley had managed to turn over from the face down position that Bilney had witnessed to being on his back when the doctor arrived. Again, both Harriet and Bilney persisted that there had been no sound as the twenty stone vicar had hit the floor.

  Arthur made another attempt at protest as Harriet recounted how she had taken the razor case from his room but by now the constables were ready with firm hands upon his shoulders to prevent him from rising.

  One new piece of information emerged during Eliza Smith’s testimony. Describing the state of the victim’s bed; how it showed no signs of a struggle and only minute blood stains on the linen, she told the court there was a cord across the bed which she said, ‘looked as if it had been used.’ There was neither comment upon nor an explanation of the purpose of this cord. One can only deduce that it was there to enable the vicar to pull himself up.

  The prosecution’s case closed and the lawyer for the defence rose to address the Bench. He said it was clear to them what the prisoner’s defence was but it was a defence which could not be raised in that court and therefore he had no observations to make. The Bench acknowledged that the defence was reserved and judgement was given that the prisoner should be committed for trial at the Assizes.

  When the pronouncement was made, Arthur again stood up, crying out that he appealed for examination. He was led out to the cells still trying to place his clerical hat upon his head as he went.

  His committal for further trial meant that he had to be transferred to the more secure Ipswich Gaol. The short journey by train was far from uneventful. An angry mob had assembled at Framlingham station to see his departure but there was worse to come. By the time the train pulled into Ipswich station, an enormous crowd had gathered. The press of people on the platform was such that the carriage in which he was held had to be shunted up to opposite the station-master’s office where, one assumes, a clear area had been kept. However, having got him out onto the platform, the guards had to fight their way back through the swell of excited spectators and out to the forecourt where a cab stood waiting to convey the prison party to the County Gaol i
n St Helen’s Street.

  It is perhaps worth pondering here that even over a hundred years ago, such was the power of the press that public opinion could have been whipped to such frenzy – and in so short a time.

  6

  FRIDAY–SUNDAY

  7–9 OCTOBER 1887

  The excitement of the inquest and court abated, a sombre mood now cloaked Cretingham as the funeral of the Revd Farley took place. Even the weather took on a suitable aspect, Friday 7 October being one of those very dull, dreary, grey autumnal days.

  At the vicarage the immediate members of the family had assembled; the two daughters, Mrs Palmer and Mrs Court and three of the sons, Thomas, William and Arthur. Frederick, the ship’s surgeon, was reported as being away at sea. They were joined by the Revds Barlee, Sinclair, Davies, Pilkington, Hocking and Tyler representing various local parishes. And because this was no ordinary vicar’s funeral, Mr Fisher, the Deputy Chief Constable, Supt Balls, Inspector Shipp from Ipswich and a number of police constables were also present.

  It had been planned that the cortège should leave the vicarage at two o’clock but even this was not to run smoothly. The vehicle, which was to convey the coffin to the church, did not arrive from Framlingham until almost half past two. There was then a further delay as the plain, unpolished oak coffin was manoeuvred with great difficulty onto the hearse. Finally in place, with wreaths of fresh white autumnal flowers on top of the coffin, the vehicle, drawn by a long-maned black pony in the charge of Henry Fairwether, set off.

  Down the road, past houses where blinds were drawn in respect, to the church where the solemn bell tolled, came the cortège. People walking two abreast followed a line of gentlemen and neighbours, among them the churchwardens J.A.J. Peck and Arthur Juby, and most of the other men who had formed the jury at the inquest.

  Harriet, in deep mourning, her face covered by a heavy crêpe veil, followed in the vicarage pony carriage driven by Bilney. Mrs Smith and Mrs Coates, with other women and servants, followed at the rear of the procession.

  It needed eight or nine men, staggering under its weight, to bear the coffin into the church where they encountered considerable difficulty in carrying it up the narrow aisle. Within the church, the stark, whitewashed walls stood out against the black cloths with which the churchwardens had draped the communion table, reading desk and pulpit. Blinds were partially drawn across the south windows to exclude any sunshine that might have attempted to lighten the atmosphere.

  For the first time in public, Harriet displayed her great grief. On entering the church she sobbed loudly and when she took her place in the familiar pew opposite the pulpit she appeared to fall to the floor. Throughout the service ‘most distinctly and feelingly read’ by the Revd Allen of Winston, Harriet’s sobs were audible to all.

  By the time they reached the graveside for the committal, where she leaned heavily on the arm of her eldest stepson, Thomas, her weeping was verging on hysteria, almost drowning out the muted responses to the service. What were her thoughts as she took a long look into the depths as the coffin was lowered into the grave beside the second Mrs Farley?

  Among the mourners listed in the account given by the Star of the East, the local evening paper, was a Mr J. Gilbert-Cooper. No one in the family had this initial but I suggest that it would have been Arthur’s uncle, the colonel, rather than his older brother, who attended as a mark of respect.

  Almost fulfilling its position as a nine day wonder in the headlines, Sunday’s service at Cretingham attracted both a very large congregation and press coverage. Every seat in the little church was taken and many latecomers had to be turned away to stand outside the door or roam over the graveyard. The church interior was still swathed in black and the service which took place was in many ways a continuation of Friday’s funeral. On this occasion members of the family were seated in the chancel.

  Again the Revd Allen officiated and he prefaced the service by referring to the difficult, possibly unique situation in which he found himself: ‘Hardly before had a clergyman to preach at the funeral of another clergyman while a third clergyman lay in prison awaiting trial for the murder of the second.’

  For his sermon he took as his text 2 Chronicles 2:12: ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel that made heaven and earth, who hath given to David the king a wise son, endued with prudence and understanding, that might build an house for the Lord and an house for his kingdom.’

  We are not told how much of the verse he used or what theme the discourse followed. Perhaps he associated Farley with the wise son, picking out his qualities of prudence and understanding. In his tribute to him, Allen spoke of Farley in warm terms, emphasizing the affection with which he had been held. The service ended with the singing of ‘Abide with me’. Harriet remained controlled throughout.

  Outside in the churchyard, the recent grave was still covered in wreaths and ‘they and the falling leaves, varied in hue, typical of the fading year remind us of the uncertainties of life.’

  One thing that was certain was that by the following day some other crime would be reported which would capture the public’s interest. Cretingham’s time in the spotlight had come to its end.

  7

  THE ASSIZES,

  15 NOVEMBER 1887

  Such is the fragility of fame that when the Cretingham murder case came up at the Assizes just five weeks later, the national papers found little room for it beyond a brief paragraph outlining the case and announcing the verdict.

  In the circumstances, it was hardly surprising. There were far more serious things to occupy the pages than the fate of an insignificant curate. The government and the country as a whole were gripped with fear that the stability of social order was about to be severely undermined by Radicalism.

  For several days hundreds of the unemployed and homeless had marched upon London, converging on Trafalgar Square where they remained waiting for the rally which was to be addressed by the leading Radicals, Tom O’Brien, John Burns, the MP, Cunningham Grahame and Mrs Annie Besant. By Sunday 13 November, so great was the number assembled to hear the various speakers expounding on what the authorities felt could only lead to anarchy, that 2,000 hand-picked policemen, with contingents drafted in from Epping Forest to Epsom, supported by another 200 mounted police armed with batons, were brought in to disperse them. The rough force and bloodshed that ensued from retaliatory sticks and stones, gave the press the opportunity to use such headlines as ‘The Second Battle of Trafalgar’. The aftermath of ‘Bloody Sunday’ rumbled on for most of the following week, filling the papers with eyewitness accounts and columns of comments and letters.

  Away from the capital, in Norwich, the autumn session of the Suffolk and Norfolk Assizes opened at the Shire Hall on 14 November. The case of the Crown v Gilbert-Cooper was listed to be heard on Tuesday 15th before Mr Justice Field. Messrs Mayd and Rawlinson appeared for the prosecution with Messrs Murphy QC and Dering for the defence. The defence seem to have accepted that Arthur had indeed committed the crime but set out to prove his insanity at the time of the offence. This was vital if they were to save him from the inevitable sentence of the time – hanging. So, before the prisoner was arraigned, Mr Murphy made an application that a jury should be empanelled to try whether the prisoner was fit to plead.

  His request was granted and a jury sworn to try ‘whether the prisoner is of sound mind and understanding, so as to be capable of making his trial on the charge whereof he stands indicted’.

  The members of the jury and those who had crowded into the courtroom, including a large number of the ‘fair sex’, had now to listen to all the medical evidence mustered to testify as to Arthur’s mental instability.

  First was George Hetherington MRCS, surgeon to Ipswich Gaol, who had had the prisoner in his special charge from 6 October until the time Arthur had been removed to Norwich for the trial.

  Dr Hetherington reported that the prisoner was hesitant in his manner and showed an inability to answer quite simple questions. He gav
e the impression that he was unconcerned, even indifferent to events. The prisoner’s expression showed a want of intelligence and when questioned, appeared resentful, giving only monosyllabic replies. As a final proof of Arthur’s odd behaviour, he cited what happened during Chapel services. The prisoner, he said, would stand up when others knelt and vice versa and make responses when he ought not. (Far from proof of mental derangement, were these not rather the actions of a high churchman – and a clergyman to boot?)

  The next expert was Dr Eager, the resident physician and superintendent of the Suffolk County Asylum at Melton. He had, he told the court, been instructed by the Home Office to enquire into the condition of the prisoner. He had first seen Arthur on 1 November (a month after the event) at Ipswich Gaol. He had interviewed him, not in his cell but in the governor’s room where the prisoner had been brought from the exercise yard. When the doctor had entered the room he had found the accused with a fixed expression staring into space through half closed eyes. The prisoner had seemed perfectly unaware of the doctor’s presence in the room until Dr Eager had called his attention. Then he seemed to come to himself, jerking his head and laughing in a foolish way.

  The doctor had engaged Arthur in conversation for an hour or so. Asked to relate what had been said, the doctor reported that the accused had revealed that he felt he was being influenced by people he could not see, especially at night. He had confided that he never felt alone at night if he was awake, as he was surrounded by things in the air. Probing into the events surrounding the death of the Revd Farley, Arthur had said, ‘I felt dazed when I got out of bed. I did not know what I was going to do. I did not distinctly understand what happened until a few days ago.’