Read The Nightingale Shore Murder Online
Authors: Rosemary Cook
Jeremy Stone, the former detective chief inspector, summarises the frustrations of the case:
âOur reconstruction of the case is based purely on matters reported by the press, which can report facts selectively, introduce speculation, sensationalise events and misquote sources. On the other hand, the inquest reportage in the Brighton Gazette [and other papers] seems quite reliable as it seems to be quoting verbatim the evidence and discourse presented in court. It's a great pity that the original inquest records were destroyed.
It's important to note that the inquest was conducted at a very early stage of the investigation and that the function of the coroner's court was to establish the place, time and cause of death as opposed to identifying suspects and apportioning criminal liability. [These] are the function of the police, the crown prosecutor's office and the courts. Not all evidence and information in the hands of the police would have been aired at the inquest.
It's a pity too that we're unable to get our hands on the original police investigation file ⦠Most likely the police file would have been kept open or kept under review for at least 10 years after all conceivable lines of enquiry were completed i.e. at least until January 1930. The case exhibits (e.g. blood samples, broken glasses, Florence's clothing) would then have been destroyed (or returned to her estate) and the investigation file would have been filed away for a period before being microfilmed and the original documents destroyed. If the case had been of particular public interest (and quite possibly this case was), the file may have been preserved intact.
A homicide case like this should have prompted the police to explore all feasible lines of investigation and should have caused them to look with an open mind at all possible suspects. Certainly Mabel Rogers should have been treated as a possible suspect, since she was the last known person to have seen the victim unharmed at Victoria Station. Her version should not have been treated at face value and at the very least, her alibi should have been investigated to exclude her from suspicion. Perhaps the police did investigate her story: but if they didn't, that would have been a serious omission, tantamount to incompetence. We'll only get the answer to this question if we can get our hands on what remains of the police file.
Whether or not police incompetence came into play, it is important to place matters into context. In January 1920, England was recovering from the effects of the Great War and from the devastating effects of the Spanish Flu pandemic. England's young male population had been devastated by four years of trench warfare. Economic times were harsh and there was a great deal of unemployment with industry in recession; with thousands of de-mobbed soldiers on the streets with scant chance of gainful work. It also seemsâas widely reported in the contemporary mediaâthat England was experiencing a crime wave: several high profile murders had occurred as well as many violent robberies. Contemporary pundits opined that this was a product of so many unemployed soldiers roaming society, who were accustomed to violence and death and to whom life was cheap. Police forces would have had their hands full. Moreover, there may well have been a shortage of experienced and able-bodied men, capable of filling the ranks of police forces. Consider too that the police forces of those times did not have the benefit of modern day forensic resources and the professional training associated with our current police.
While it seems from the available information that Mabel Rogers might have had motive, opportunity and the means to attack Florence during a fit of rage or jealously, it also seems that the [Eastbourne] burglar was also a good suspect.'
Unfortunately, the police file on the case is almost certainly lost. There is no record of it at the National Archives, which holds the historic files of the Metropolitan Police. Nor can records from the East Sussex police or the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway Company be found in any of the relevant archives.
Without access to more contemporary information, we are left with just suspicion and circumstantial evidence; and the unsolved case leaves only a series of painful unanswered questions behind.
One of these is why Florence returned to London on the Sunday night, after visiting her aunt and cousin in Tonbridge. It would have been easier to get a train from Tonbridge to Hastings than to make the trip back up to London and out again the next day. Maybe she was not sufficiently comfortable with her aunt to want to stay there; or her aunt could not accommodate her. Or was there a special reason for going back to Carnforth Lodge on the Sunday night? The question was never asked at the inquest, so the only living person who could shed any light on this â Mabel Rogers â did not do so. It is simply what happened: a decision that put Florence on the train with her murderer.
Another difficult question is how much Florence was aware of her condition in the hour or so between the attack and the time the platelayers called the guard at Bexhill. Were the movements of her eyes and hands just semi-conscious reflexes; or was she trying to convey information and attract the help she needed? The latter is a horrifying possibility: that she should be aware of her attacker taking her money and jewellery, then awaiting his chance to alight at Lewes; that she should be alone between Lewes and Polegate, not knowing when or if someone would enter the carriage and find her; and then to have the three workmen sitting in the carriage with her but seemingly unaware of her terrible injuries. Better that Florence was not conscious of any of this, and her movements were simply remnants of the body's reflexes in the twilight between life and death.
The final unanswered questions are about her attacker. Who was the man who attacked Florence so viciously, and left the train at Lewes, leaving her to die? Was he fooled by her fur coat and hat into thinking that she would be carrying a lot of money and valuables, and then disappointed that his audacious and risky assault resulted in just three pounds and some jewellery? Did he really mean to kill the woman with the three heavy blows to the head, or was his intention just to stun her enough for the robbery?
And afterwards, when the local and national newspapers were full of the story of the decorated war nurse who took four days to die of her wounds; when it became clear that the anonymous woman on the train was a skilled and dedicated servant of the sick and wounded, related to the famous Florence Nightingale; did he feel any degree of remorse at the brutal way he had ended this life?
It is a tragic irony that the woman who had travelled across half the globe and served in two war zones should meet her death on a suburban train in southern England.
Florence had emerged from her eventful and sometimes stressful childhood to forge an adventurous life and a distinguished career in the profession that her godmother had transformed into one of respectability and opportunity. She was one of the âmany honourable women' that Kipling paid tribute to in his poem about nurses in South Africa. Florence herself might have preferred her brother's simple epitaph: âShe was a good soldier.'
It is a sad fact that, had Florence Shore not been murdered, no-one beyond her family would have heard of her. She was a dedicated and heroic army nurse; but so were thousands of others, as the writings of Sister Luard and Vera Brittain, amongst many others, demonstrate. Even the recognition of her exceptional service by the award of the Royal Red Cross would not have made much impact outside of her profession. But because of the brutal nature of her death, her life and work came to the public's attention, and, for a few months at least, there was public indignation and sorrow at the terrible end to such a worthy life.
The contemporary newspaper coverage of the crime provided the clues to start uncovering more about this particular nurse, by naming her father and aunt, her family connection to Florence Nightingale, and some notable moments in her career â like her trip to China. After that, Florence was rescued from anonymity by the meticulous record-keeping of the 19
th
century, and in particular, of the then Queen Victoria Jubilee Institute for Nurses â now the Queen's Nursing Institute. Quarter by quarter, the Institute recorded who was training or working for them, and where they were deployed, in its own magazine. The Queen's Nurses âbelonged' to the Institute for the rest of their careers, until their names appear on the âresigned from the Institute' list (because of marriage or illness or âfamily duties'), or under the deaths. The magazine also encouraged the Queen's Nurses to write letters and articles, descriptions of practice and notes about their district, for publication in its pages. These are a rich source of background and context, and since every element of the nurses' lives was prescribed by the Institute and its Superintendents, we can deduce a lot about Florence's working life from the generality of her colleagues' experience. Periodically, and luckily, there are articles written personally by Mabel Rogers, which bring us even closer to Florence's life. With regard to her death, we benefit from the insatiable interest of the early 20
th
century in death and scandal, which meant that inquest proceedings were published verbatim in the newspapers. On this at least we have plenty of first-hand accounts from those involved in the drama.
Tantalisingly, a religious Abbe from France refers to Florence's âautograph book', in which he had written an appreciation of Florence's work. This suggests a document filled with comments that would have built up a fuller picture of Florence from the people who knew her But the likelihood is that this was lost in the bombing of the Nightingale Shore home which destroyed the memorial bedroom in which Florence's belongings were displayed.
From Florence herself, there is only scant evidence on which to build a picture of her personality and her feelings. There are some brief letters, preserved in the family, to her father, her god-mother and her sister-in-law; but Florence didn't write for the Queen's Nurses' magazine, as Mabel did, so there is no word from her there. Caroline Shore, her sister in law, had her views â but she admitted her own bias, because of her love for Offley, and her jealousy of his relationship with his sisters. She also saw Florence differently at different times: sometimes she was âshy and difficult'; sometimes âsweet' and big-hearted, sometimes âdetermined and pugnacious'.
So there are gaps in the story of Florence's life which remain unexplored. The formative years of her childhood, from six years old in Derbyshire to 16 at school in Yorkshire are largely unrecorded, apart from her trips abroad. The Middlethorpe Hall school records are nowhere to be found: a lot of historical material was lost when the building was first converted into flats, then transformed into a nightclub, before being allowed to fall derelict. Now it is a country house hotel, and you can walk up the beautiful wooden cantilevered staircase that Florence would have used. But there is no record beyond the simple census list of Florence's time there.
The other blank in Florence's life story is her young adulthood, from 18 to 28, when she started her nurse training. Early in this period she was offered a position at £40 a year, according to her brother's letter, but we don't know what this position was. We can only guess why she went to China, and with whom, and what she thought of it. And what was she doing before she went to China, in the years following her parents' divorce and remarriages? Which parent, if either, did she live with? And what did she do to occupy her time and energy? To these intriguing questions we have, so far, no answers.
Florence slips quietly through her own story, telling us very little herself. But at least now, however imperfectly, her life's achievements are remembered, as well as her death.
Secondary sources:
Secondary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources:
Secondary sources:
Primary sources: