Crime City: Manchester's Victorian Underworld (31 page)

He and Hannah, now married, opened a grocer’s shop in Long Millgate but their talent was not in the retail trade. Perversely, he returned to Sheffield in 1872 with the widow and resumed his criminal career. From this time on Charlie was either luckier or more careful than previously. He now enjoyed the golden age of his career, the longest prison-free period of his criminal life. He also took the precaution of appearing to earn an honest living as a joiner, woodcarver and picture framer. At night, however, he was up to his old tricks and in the process building up a substantial nest egg. He bought a house in Darnell, where he lived in modest comfort. He became extremely friendly with his next-door neighbour, Arthur Dyson, who was fifteen inches taller than Peace. Another neighbour, seeing the two men on the street, described them as ‘the organ grinder and his monkey’.

It was during these years that the Peace myth grew up. It was said he had a remarkable way with animals and could win the confidence of the most ferocious guard dog.

Unfortunately, Charlie couldn’t quieten his own animal instincts. Katherine Dyson, Arthur’s young wife, was a beauty and Charlie was determined to have her.

The physical disparity between the pair did nothing to cool his ardour or deflate his self-confidence. Mrs Dyson was a striking woman in every respect. She was not only attractive but also tall and statuesque, in the fashion of Victorian beauties. By contrast, Peace, according to a police description, was thin, slight, with grey hair, beard and whiskers. He had lost at least one finger from his left hand and walked like a cowboy with his legs far apart. In addition, he had a speech impediment, giving the impression that his tongue was too big for his mouth. Despite all this, he was making some progress with the stunning redhead when Arthur discovered what was going on. It was at this point that Charlie’s judgement failed him. He threatened Dyson, pushing a gun up his nose.

When he heard that Dyson had complained to the police he fled to Hull. There he set up the widow in a café and continued his life of crime. The entire stock of the café came from Sheffield restaurateurs Charlie targeted during his final weeks in the city. By now he realised he stood a far better chance of staying out of prison if he moved around the country. He took another precaution to ensure he didn’t go back inside: he went nowhere without a gun.

On 1 August 1876 Charlie was in Manchester. He’d spent some time watching the home of a Mr Gratrix in Whalley Range. The church clock was striking midnight as he approached the house at the junction of Chorlton Road and Seymour Grove. Unknown to Charlie, Nicholas Cock, a twenty-year-old probationary constable, a Cornishman and ex-miner, saw him passing through the gate to Gratrix’s front garden. As Cock approached the house he met a colleague, James Beanland. Charlie was still inside the house when he saw the policeman’s hat at the window. He froze. The hat moved away to the back of the house. Charlie drew his gun as he ran to the front door and dashed out of the house – straight into Constable Cock.

Two shots rang out.

Beanland carried his colleague to the nearby house of Doctor Dill. Cock died there. Next day Charlie killed again. This time it was premeditated.

Arthur Dyson was regretting telling the police about Peace. Almost every post brought a new threat, another promise of vengeance. What was even worse was that Arthur was convinced someone was watching him. During this period Charlie made regular trips to Sheffield where he roamed the streets in disguise. Dyson was so unnerved that he moved house in the hope of escaping from Peace. As the Dysons arrived at their new home with the removal van they spotted a tiny figure standing on the doorstep. As they drew level with the door, Charlie turned and greeted them with a malevolent smile.

The day after he murdered Constable Cock he was back in Sheffield, prowling the streets, when he ran into Arthur Dyson. Peace shot him twice in the head. Several horrified witnesses saw Charlie flee. Police issued a detailed description and launched a nationwide manhunt, making Charlie the most wanted man in the country. People claimed to see him all over the north of England. He narrowly escaped capture in Sheffield, Hull and Manchester. Yet none of this stopped him from going to the last place anyone would expect to find him. He went to see another man stand trial for the first murder he had committed. Throughout the two-day trial of the Hebron brothers at Manchester Assizes, Charlie sat in the public gallery. He had no need of a disguise – he looked like a thousand second-hand clothes dealers, an insignificant little man with a dull life. Though Cock died without regaining consciousness, the police were convinced they knew his killer. Hours before the constable met his death his evidence had convicted three brothers, the Hebrons, of drunkenness. The fiery Irishmen had sworn vengeance. Cock took their threats seriously, reporting them to his superior, James Bent, one of Manchester’s most celebrated Victorian policemen. He told Cock to take care but reassured him by saying that ‘a threatened man rarely came to any harm’.

Immediately after Cock’s murder police swooped on the nearby Firs Farm, where the Hebrons worked. They found all three brothers in bed and arrested them. The evidence against them, though entirely circumstantial, was nevertheless compelling. Several witnesses swore to their loud and oft-repeated promise to avenge themselves against the constable. Others swore to seeing William Hebron priming gun cartridges in a local shop. The magistrates dismissed the case against Frank Hebron, but sent William and John to the Assizes. Several witnesses told the court of the Hebrons’ threat to revenge themselves on Cock but Constable Beanland’s description of the man he saw fleeing the house was vague enough to fit either brother.

Footprints found at the scene of the murder and leading towards Firs Farm also gave credence to the prosecution case. Expert bootmakers claimed they matched the boots William wore on the night of the murder. During his court case William’s employer told the jury that Hebron had ‘the most abominable temper of any man I ever knew in my life’. Unfortunately for the brothers this echoed the popular image of the fiery Irishman, prone to outbursts of fury. What damned William, however, were the Hebrons’ lies. When arrested they claimed they had been in bed since 9pm, yet inquiries revealed they had been drinking in a pub until 11pm. The pub was one that Cock had passed at about five minutes past eleven, shortly before someone murdered him.

Immediately after the shooting police put a lot of manpower into the search for the murder weapon. They searched ditches and pits in the area without success. It is likely that a navvy named Fay solved the mystery thirty years later. In 1907, while clearing a clay pit in preparation for the building of a school near Oswald Street, Chorlton-cum-Hardy, he uncovered a gun. At the time of Cock’s murder the police dragged the pit without success. Against the advice of their counsel the prisoners insisted on calling a number of witnesses to provide them with an alibi. This proved disastrous as the prosecution exposed them as liars. This totally discredited the Hebrons in the eyes of the jury and was certainly one of the reasons for their conviction.

The manner in which the Hebrons had conducted themselves during their original trial – the one which led to their vow of vengeance against Cock – also contributed to the conviction in the murder trial. Prior to this trial John Hebron had threatened a number of witnesses. The police also received a number of anonymous threats, warning of dire consequences should any of the Hebrons suffer punishment. On that occasion James Bent warned the brothers that should any of the witnesses suffer harm he would hold them personally responsible.

After two-and-a-half hours the jury acquitted John Hebron. William, however, they found guilty. The judge sentenced him to death. He was eighteen. Many people believed his sentence should be commuted to life imprisonment and presented a petition to this effect to the Home Secretary. It was almost certainly William’s youth that saved him from the gallows. Another section of the public, however, deplored the Home Secretary’s leniency. For these, PC Cock was the focus of their sympathy. They raised a public subscription to fund the memorial headstone that stands above his grave in St. Clement’s churchyard, Chorltoncum-Hardy.

Nothing that happened in court troubled Charlie’s conscience or dulled his ardour. Though the jury convicted William Hebron and the judge sentenced him to death, Peace was nevertheless able that same day to seduce Prudence Simpson, a court secretary.

Shortly after this he decamped to Nottingham, where he took refuge with a Mrs Adamson, a landlady and fence. A few days later he met Susan Bailey. From the moment he saw her she beguiled him. She responded to Charlie’s improbable charms and they embarked on a nationwide tour, travelling as Mr and Mrs John Thompson.

Finally, Charlie washed up in London. The inability of the police to catch him convinced him he was fireproof. Once more he set up an unconventional household.

The fact that Hannah Ward and her son were with him didn’t prevent him from immediately acquiring a new mistress, the vivacious ‘Legs’ Thompson. To accommodate his passion for her lovely limbs, Peace once more adopted Bohemian domestic arrangements. He relegated the widow and her son to the cellar, while he and his mistress occupied the rest of the house. Predictably, the women who vied for Charlie’s affections were constantly at loggerheads. Hannah was neurotic and sour while Legs soon became a hopeless drunkard. Charlie was so worried about her that he set Hannah and Willie the task of chaperoning her wherever she went.

As relations became fractious Charlie took to beating his churlish family. On occasion he threatened them with the weapon he had used to murder Cock and Dyson.

He was only happy when he and his new friend, Henry Brion, were concocting improbable moneymaking schemes. They discussed raising sunken ships, irrigating the Sahara and devising means of walking through fire unharmed. Charlie also enjoyed making his own specialist burglary tools. His enormous overcoat had concealed pockets and his violin case contained the customised instruments of his trade.

Yet for all his Bohemian ways, Charlie craved respectability. To win over his neighbours, he hosted regular musical soirees at which he played the classics on his violin, accompanied by his wife Hannah on the piano and his stepson on the Spanish guitar. Using the alias Mr Thompson, Charlie was the image of middle-class respectability as he gave recitations before rounding off the evening with hymns. By now, 1878, Charlie was robbing mansions. Then, just as Peace seemed ready to step up a league and embark on the most profitable phase of his career, he met three policemen of remarkable bravery and tenacity.

He was burgling a splendid Blackheath residence when three policemen disturbed him. Though Peace fired five shots, one of which hit PC Edward Robinson in the arm, the other peelers disarmed him. At this point he produced a knife and tried to stab Robinson, before they again disarmed him and hauled him to the lock-up. Though the trial ended with Charlie getting life for attempted murder, he was nevertheless relieved. The court tried him as John Ward and incredibly didn’t realise he was the man wanted for the murder of Arthur Dyson. Nor did the police suspect he had anything to do with the murder of PC Cock. Peace might well have spent the rest of his days in prison had it not been for a small oversight. He had made no provision for Legs, who decided to claim the £100 reward for the arrest of Charlie Peace.

Even when exposed as a murderer Charlie was not prepared to accept his fate. Halfway between King’s Cross and Leeds he wriggled free from his guards and, as the train slowed, threw himself headlong through a window. Miraculously he suffered no injuries but the handcuffs slowed his escape and his startled escort was able to grapple him to the ground. News of Charlie’s desperate bid for freedom reached Leeds before him and further incensed the vast crowd waiting for him at the station.

The trial was a foregone conclusion. Mrs Dyson, who had emigrated to America after the death of her husband, returned to give damning evidence against her former suitor. One of the police officers who brought Charlie to justice described him as ‘the most industrious, ingenious and ruthless villain of all time’. As the judge donned the black cap, the court secretary, Prudence Simpson, crashed to the floor.

It was at this stage, as Charlie sat in the condemned cell facing the certainty of his death, that he confessed to the murder of PC Cock. Initially, the official response was sceptical. After all, Charlie was a notorious liar who loved the limelight. With the shadow of the gallows hanging over him he had nothing to lose by confessing to a murder he hadn’t committed. Quite the contrary, he stood to gain further notoriety and to boost his reputation as a criminal mastermind. Fortunately, the Home Secretary had commuted Hebron’s death sentence to life imprisonment. Now he granted the young Irishman a free pardon and in what was an almost unprecedented step awarded him the enormous sum of £1,000 in compensation.

Even in death Peace added to his reputation as a courageous outlaw, able to face any ordeal without a quiver of fear. Immediately before his execution on 25 February 1879, he made a short speech in which he showed that death held no dread.

‘I know where I’m going,’ he said, with all the confidence of a nun on her deathbed. ‘I’m going to heaven.’

Just before Marwood pulled the lever, Peace spoke a final sentence. His voice was calm and even. ‘Amen, God bless you all.’

The Manchester police emerged from the Charlie Peace affair with little credit. By now many believed their inability to counter the forces of lawlessness was one of the reasons why crime in the city had reached such unprecedented levels.