Great Train Crimes: Murder and Robbery on the Railways (6 page)

‘An event took place which excited an extraordinary sensation
of surprise and alarm in the public mind and continued
for several months.’

Perhaps it is a tribute to the law-abiding nature of mid-Victorian Britain that it was almost four decades after the first passenger-carrying train that a murder was committed on one of them. Or perhaps it was the conservative and unimaginative nature of the criminal classes.

Thomas Briggs appeared to be the embodiment of the prosperous middle-class, middle-aged Victorian; perhaps a character out of Dickens. He had been born in about 1795 in Cartmel, Lancashire, where he had attended the grammar school. His family were middle-class and Anglican. However, he had lived in London since he was 16, and in Hackney since the late 1830s. In London he began working at Sir John Lubcock’s bank. Briggs was hardworking, courteous and of sound judgement. In 1864, he was about 69 and was chief clerk (the highest post below that of partner) at Messrs Robarts & Co. of Lombard Street in the City of London (they had taken over the firm he previously worked for). At death, he was worth between £2,000 and £3,000. Although he had suffered a severe illness and went to Lancashire to recover, by 1864, he was in good health for a man of his age. Briggs was tall and bearded. He lived in a house on Clapton Square, near Hackney parish church. With him lived his wife, Margaret aged 70, and three of his adult children. Of his two sons, one was an insurance clerk and the other a ship broker in the City. They had two domestic servants: a cook and a housemaid. He was highly respected and had many friends. Yet his ultimate fate was a most unfortunate one.

The day began as any other did; like most salaried employees, he led a life of routine. He spent most of Saturday 9 July 1864 at work and at 3 pm left his office. He travelled to see his niece, who lived in Nelson Square, Peckham, arriving at 5 pm. He dined there and at 8.30 left. His niece and her husband, David Buchan, a woollen warehouseman, saw Briggs take an omnibus outside the Lord Nelson pub on the Old Kent Road. This was 15 minutes’ walk from their house. Briggs seemed well and was perfectly sober. He had told them of his route home – to the City, then to take a train from Fenchurch Street to Hackney station, arriving at 10 and so home. There were two or three other passengers on the omnibus, besides the conductor and driver, and its eventual destination was Islington. However, Briggs would have alighted at the corner of King William Street, the nearest stop to Fenchurch Street, and the journey should have taken about 20 minutes.

It was about 9.45 when Briggs arrived at Fenchurch Street station. Thomas Fishbourne, ticket collector there, knew Briggs as a regular traveller on the line, and saw him at this point. Briggs was alone and greeted Fishbourne before going up to the platform. Several other people came up after he did. On the platform was William Petrie, who was in charge of the electric telegraph at the station. He and Briggs exchanged greetings. About 15 others joined the train there, but Petrie did not see Briggs board. The train was five minutes late and did not depart until 9.50, stopping at Stepney, then Bow. Briggs entered the first class compartment in the carriage nearest to the engine.

It was at Bow that one Thomas Lee of Parkfield Villas, Hackney, apparently saw Briggs. Lee was standing on the platform and had a few words with his friend. He was surprised to see him out at such a late hour, but more importantly noted that there were two other men in the same compartment:

I observed two men in the carriage with him. Mr Briggs was sitting with his back to the engine, and appeared in his usual health and spirits. I saw by his side a dark, thin man, apparently tall, and opposite to him I observed a stoutish man, thick set with light whiskers. He had his hand in the loop of the carriage windows, and I noticed that his hand was unusually large.

Lee then went into another compartment (a second class one) and journeyed to Hackney, unaware that Briggs had been assaulted until two days later.

At just after 10 pm, at Hackney Wick, Semple Jones and Harry
Verney, ironically enough clerks at the same bank as Mr Briggs, entered compartment no. 69, a first class compartment. It was covered in blood. Calling a guard, one Haines, they found that the cushions and windows were bloodstained and there was much blood on the floor. But there was no body. The only other evidence that somebody had been there were a hat and a stick, both found under the seat, and a black leather bag. The guard took charge of these and locked the compartment door. He telegraphed Mr Keeble, the stationmaster at Bow, news of this discovery and the two thought that a suicide had occurred, with the unfortunate individual throwing themselves out of the moving train, though this would hardly account for the bloodstained compartment. The train then proceeded to Camden.

Meanwhile, at about 10.15, an equally disturbing discovery was made by the line between Old Ford Bridge and Hackney Wick station. The driver and stoker of the train from Stratford were about to pass the railway bridge over Ducket’s canal, by the side of the Milford Arms Tavern and Victoria Park. At first, Alfred Eakins, the driver, thought that it was the body of a dog, but his colleague, John Brinckley, thought otherwise. The train had passed the object before they could stop. Taking a lamp, Brinckley alighted and walked back towards it.

He was right in his original supposition. This was the bloodstained body of a man. Brinckley called out to Eakins, who then went to the nearby pub to ask for assistance. Mr White, the landlord, and some of his customers, came with him and removed the body to the pub. In doing so, they nearly lost their lives by the arrival of a train coming in the opposite direction.

Once the body had been taken to the pub, and laid on a couch, it became clear that he had been the victim of a bloodthirsty assault and robbery. Although the hook of his watch chain was attached to his waistcoat, both chain and watch were not there. His head had been battered by a sharp instrument. White then sent for doctors and the police. Three surgeons arrived – Mr Alfred Brereton of Old Ford was the first to appear (at about 11 pm), followed by Mr Garman of Fairfield Road, Bow, and Mr Vincent Cooper of Coburn Road. He was taken upstairs and then the three examined the injured man, who was not, after all, quite dead, though he was insensible. There were a number of wounds to the head. Stimulants were applied to try and render him conscious, but to no avail.

PC Edward Dougar was on duty at Wick Lane at 10.20. He heard that a man had been found near the line and went to the pub with the others. After calling for a surgeon, he recalled that:

I searched his pockets to ascertain who he was. His shirt front was rumpled and there was one black stud in it. A bunch of keys, four sovereigns, and some silver were in his left hand breeches pocket and in the other another bunch of keys and 8s 6d in silver and coppers. In his waist coat pocket there was a first class return ticket, and in his coat pocket I found his letters, papers and a silver snuff box. There was a patent fastening attached to his waist coat pocket for a gold chain, and there was a diamond ring upon his finger. There was no watch or chain on him.

Inspector Kerressey of K division arrived from Bow Police Station. He looked at the letters found on the body. They were addressed to Thomas Briggs at his business address on Lombard Street. Kerressey sent a man to check at the bank to confirm Briggs’s identity and to find his personal address. This was swiftly accomplished and then the melancholy news had to be broken to the family.

Thomas Briggs, junior, a 28-year-old insurance clerk, and other family members accompanied Mr Francis Toulmin, FRCS, the family doctor, to the tavern. It was now just after 3 am on Sunday morning. Distressing scenes followed, but the injured man could only gurgle in recognizing the voice of an elderly female servant. News of what had happened had leaked and many people gathered outside the pub, such was their interest and excitement. The four doctors remained with Briggs for the remainder of the night and in the following morning, on Toulmin’s advice, he was conveyed in a litter to his home. Despite his robust constitution, the old man died at 11.45 pm on Sunday 10 July. This was now no longer robbery with violence, but a case of murder.

Toulmin then undertook a post mortem, in the presence of Brereton and Cooper. There was a jagged wound on the left ear. On the scalp were several severe wounds. The hands and left forearm were grazed and bruised, an indication that the man had tried to defend himself. The skull was also fractured. Some of these injuries would have resulted from the fall from the train. Death was due to the fracture of the skull and the depression of the brain.

Meanwhile, the police investigation proceeded. The younger Briggs
was eager to assist with what little information he could. He told them how his father had left for work as normal the day before. He added that he was wearing a gold watch with an Albert chain, and that he wore gold glasses. The watch had been given to his father by a friend about two years before. He also stated that the hat, stick and bag which were found in the compartment were his father’s. However, on closer examination, he announced that the hat was not his father’s. This hat was to assume great importance in what transpired, because, of course, it must have belonged to the murderer.

Kerressey had details of the missing watch and glasses sent to all police stations in London. He then examined the compartment where Briggs had been attacked. Once the train of which it had been part of reached Camden Town station, the carriage was uncoupled and brought back to Bow where it was put into a shed. It was composed of three first class compartments. There was blood on the brass handles of the door, suggesting the assailant had opened the window in order to throw his victim out. On the floor was found a link from the watch chain and on the footstep was part of the glasses.

The initial police theory was that Briggs had been attacked shortly after the train left Bow. His attacker or attackers wanted to throw him into the canal, but had been unable to do so. One Mr Edward Carr wrote to
The Times
with a theory of his own. This was that Briggs had ruptured one of his arteries and then had jumped from the train in order to procure medical assistance. Others poured scorn on this, pointing out that if this was the case, then whose hat was it that had been found in the compartment and who had closed the carriage door?

The inquest began on 18 July at Hackney Vestry Hall. Mr Toulmin gave the medical evidence and then Mrs Buchan told what she knew. The question of motive was raised. She did not know of anyone who had threatened her uncle. However, her uncle had refused someone a loan and a third party told her that the man who had been turned down had threatened Briggs, though she had assumed that this was not a threat to kill him. Her husband had also heard of this, but not at first hand. Oddly enough, in Briggs’s pocket book were two IOUs made out from Buchan. William Townsend, a ticket collector at Hackney Wick, said that it would be easy for anyone to leave the station without passing him at the entrance, because they could exit by the embankment and many of the ‘rougher sort’ who used the train there often did so.

The doctors reported that, on the following day, they were shown a
stone near to the place where Briggs was found. It weighed about half a pound and there was blood and hair attached to it. This stone fitted one of Briggs’s head wounds. The inquest was then adjourned until 23 July.

Further information was being found by the police. A lad told them that he had been travelling on the same train as Briggs. He had boarded at Stepney and noticed a tall, dark man walking up the platform, looking in at the occupants of the train. He then entered a compartment where an elderly gentleman sat. It will be recalled that Lee thought that one of the men with Briggs was tall, too. The police were also keeping an eye on the man (unnamed) who had allegedly threatened Briggs.

One of the most important witnesses was Jonathan Matthews, a cab driver, who reported to the police on 18 July. He had known one Francis Muller for two years. He recalled that in December 1863 Muller admired his hat. In exchange for a waistcoat, Matthews bought a similar hat for 10s 6d from Mr Walker’s hat shop in Crawford Street, Marylebone. He had seen Muller in this hat in June 1864, and was able to describe the hat before he was shown the one at the scene of the murder. He said:

I believe this to be the hat that I purchased for him; it corresponds exactly – before I bought it, out of the shop I had it turned up a little at each side – after I had purchased it I said I should like it turned up the same as the one I had the week previous, consequently they did it while I was there – I noticed that there was a little curl in the brim.

When asked why he did not tell the police until over a week after the murder, he said that he had not seen a newspaper since then, though some claimed he was waiting for a reward to be offered. At that time it stood at £300 and Matthews was in debt.

What appeared to be another important new development occurred at 1 pm on 20 July. John Haffa, a German tailor, who lived at Park Terrace, Old Ford Road, Bow, went to the offices of the City of London Police. He told Inspector Hamilton that four days after the assault, he had purchased a pawnbroker’s ticket for 12s from Francis Muller. Muller had lodged at the same house as Haffa and the two had known each other for several months. The pawnbroker’s ticket was
worth 30s and was for a gold watch chain that had been pledged at Mr Annis’s shop in the Minories on the afternoon of 12 July. Muller and Haffa had recently worked together for a Mr Hodgkinson on Threadneedle Street, but Muller had argued with the foreman, lost his job and decided to start a new life in America, enlisting in the Union army in the ongoing American Civil War (1861–5). To do so, he needed some ready money to pay his fare, so sold the ticket at a loss. Muller had then took a ship to New York, on 14 July, travelling from the London Docks.