Saturday 11 January 2014


Murder Remembered: The Billiard-Marking Bloodspiller
Part Two: The Quintuple Butcher of Ramsgate & Holborn

Early in the investigation the Holborn murder case received two key pieces of information: the identity of the victims, and more crucially that of the prime suspect. ‘…while at the coffeehouse,’ Insp. Tanner wrote in his report, ‘Mr White of 4 Featherstone Street [sic], having heard of the case, came and identified the children…’ William White, a 57-year-old local schoolmaster living at 4 Featherstone Buildings, explained that the three boys were in fact his sons from his second marriage. Their names were Henry (10), Thomas (8) and Alexander (6), and that they had been collected on Monday evening by his estranged wife’s lover.
      White explained how his wife, Maria, had left him some seven years earlier and had since ‘cohabited with a man named Ernest Southey’. William had believed that Southey was taking the children to their mother and that they were all going to start a new life in Australia. ‘A painful scene took place with the reputed father of the deceased children,’ wrote the West End News. ‘… after looking at the deceased, one of whom had a smile upon his countenance, his feelings gave way, and with difficulty he was lead down the stairs’.
      With this intelligence Tanner placed plain clothed officers at all railway terminals leading out of London, and at the docks. A description of Southey was issued to all divisions and the Home Secretary offered a £100 reward to anyone with information leading to the billiard-marker’s capture. At this juncture the detectives had no idea of Southey’s whereabouts, but in a communication to Assistant Commissioner Haynes Superintendent Searle, head of Holborn division, stated: ‘I fancy he cannot get away, every precaution has been taken to guard against his doing so.’
      As Tanner was writing his report news came of a second murder. ‘A telegram has just been received,’ he wrote, ‘stating that Southey is in custody at Ramsgate, having murdered Mrs White and the little girl alluded to’. The little girl in question was Maria White’s youngest child, Annie Eliza. Her whereabouts, as well as that of her mother, were at the time unknown. A second telegram was received, this one from Superintendent James Livick, saying that Southey was in custody and had confessed to the London murders. But things soon became confused when it was later revealed that the man arrested was in fact a former baker from the town called Forwood. In order to establish the facts Tanner was despatched to Ramsgate.

The Prodigal Husband Returns

Stephen Forwood had abandoned his wife and two children some eight years earlier. After so many years and not a word from him Mary Forwood had believed her husband to be dead. Then on the evening of Wednesday 9th August 1865 he turned up out of the blue with tales of hardship and woe. At first he had wanted her to go for a walk, but Mary Forwood was suspicious of her estranged husband’s intentions. Instead she took him across the road to the home of her neighbour and friend William Ellis.
      Ellis, aged 69, lived at 38 King Street with his daughter, Adelaide (34) and his niece, Eliza Wright (14). A dyer by profession, Ellis and his daughter had been good friends since Mary’s return eight years ago, supporting her through all manner of troubles, including the death of her eldest child five years earlier. Now, to their surprise, Mary had turned up with her wastrel of a husband. In the presence of her friends, Mary Forwood told Stephen of the hardships she had endured since his sudden departure. Forwood expressed his desire to speak to his wife in private. The Ellis’ retreated to an adjoining room. After a few minutes Mary Forwood emerged and said: ‘Well, he has promised to come again at eight o’clock in the morning’.
      On the morning of Thursday 10th August Stephen Forwood kept his promise, arriving back at the Ellis’ at around 8.20 a.m.  He declined the offer of breakfast. Mary introduced her daughter, Emily, to her father. Forwood had not seen her since her birth in 1857. At around 9 a.m. William Ellis went out to his workshop situated in the backyard. Adelaide offered the couple the use of the upstairs sitting room, and then got on with her household chores. The Forwoods went upstairs to speak privately. A short time later Emily was sent up to her parents.

Murder and Arrest

No sooner had the child gone up when two rapid pistol shots rang out. Adelaide rushed to the foot of the stairs in time to see Emily Forwood’s body roll onto the landing (some press reports claim that her father slowly descended the stairs, placed the revolver in her mouth and fired a third shot). Adelaide Ellis then ran screaming to her father who was already running towards the house. He then hurried upstairs where he found Stephen Forwood standing in the doorway of the sitting room, a smoking revolver in his left hand.
      ‘What have you done, Forwood?’ the dyer asked.
      ‘She is relieved from all trouble,’ Forwood replied, ‘she is better off now than before. I have done an act of charity.’
      Taken aback by this remark William Ellis then instructed his daughter to fetch the police and a doctor. Forwood made no attempt to escape. On the contrary he responded: ‘Yes, fetch the police’. When the dyer commented that this would ruin his business Forwood replied that he would compensate him for any losses, claiming to have ‘£1,200 of my own money in party’s hands’.  
      Stephen Forwood was arrested and taken to Ramsgate Police Station, where he later penned a bizarre statement claiming responsibility for the murder of three children in London. In it he passed the blame for his crimes onto various distinguished gentlemen of the state, church and police. ‘Under all the terrible runs of my life I did my very best,’ it ended. Despite his protestations of innocence Forwood was charged and place on remand at Sandwich Gaol.  During his time there he wrote to the social reformer, George Jacob Holyoake, requesting that he visit. Holyoake declined, believing him to be unhinged.
      Later that same Thursday Inspector Tanner arrived. Traveling with him was William White and a chambermaid from Starr’s Hotel (accounts in the press don’t give her name). White had come to identify the body of his estranged wife and child; the chambermaid to identify Southey. Upon arrival Dick Tanner was informed of the victims’ true identities. ‘Woman and child murdered here not Mrs White but Southey’s wife and child’, he informed his superiors. At Sandwich Gaol Forwood was identified as the man who had poisoned the three boys in Holborn.
      With Forwood now identified as being Southey, Tanner began to take steps towards extraditing the prisoner back to London, but his efforts were thwarted by the coroner who refused to adjourn the inquest into the deaths of Mary and Emily Forwood. ‘Prisoner committed on both coroners warrant and magistrates warrant. Refused to give him up. I return tonight’, he bitterly informed Scotland Yard. Stephen Forwood would stand trial at the next assizes in Maidstone, scheduled for December of that year.
     
I Am An Innocent Man!

News of the murders caused a sensation. Papers as far as Australia and New Zealand carried the story. On the 19th December the Kentish Gazette announced to its readers that the ‘trial of this notorious felon will commence at Maidstone today (Tuesday)’. Four months earlier before Ramsgate’s magistrates Forwood/Southey had declared his innocence while objecting the presence of a photographer. ‘I protest against my photograph being taken,’ he pompously told the court, ‘I am an innocent man, and am not to be made a show of’. Magistrate Crofton acquiesced to the prisoner’s protestations and the camera was removed. This self-deluded belief that he was as much a victim as those he had murdered persisted throughout his period on remand and during his trial at Maidstone.
      ‘By half-past nine o’clock the court was densely crowded,’ announced Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper, ‘and great anxiety was manifested to see the prisoner and hear the proceedings’. Arraigned under the name of Forwood upon the indictment of murdering his wife and child the prisoner, in an ‘affected tone of voice, but with perfect sense of propriety of manner’, said: ‘That is not my name. My name is Southey’. The presiding judge, Justice John Mellor, replied that it was ‘immaterial’, but if the prisoner wished to be tried under the name of Southey then so be it. This was the first of numerous objections by the defendant.  When asked to plead Southey tried to address the court.
      ‘I cannot allow any statement before you plead,’ Mellor interjected. ‘You must either admit or deny your guilt’. Not surprisingly the defendant stated that he was ‘not guilty’ of the charge. Finally the judge allowed him to make his statement in which he claimed his wife was dead before he shot her. ‘Then if there is any evidence in the course of the case upon which you can maintain that,’ Mellor replied, ‘you can do so. At present the case for the prosecution must be opened in the usual way’. Southey tried to argue but was silenced. He next protested against the jury, but Mellor told him that a new jury would not be sworn.
      Counsels gave their opening addresses and the trial finally, despite the prisoner’s outburst, began. Over the next two days the court heard evidence from William Ellis, his daughter and members of Ramsgate police. There were also depositions from Josiah White and staff from Starr’s Hotel, even though the names of Henry, Thomas and Alexander White were not on the indictment. The second day’s proceedings also examined the psychological condition of the defendant’s mind. Here there was a difference of opinion. Mr James Dulvey, a physician from Medway, told the court he believed Southey to be ‘thoroughly unhinged’; the governor of Sandwich Gaol, Lewis Arthur Hill, disagreed stating that the prisoner was ‘very intelligent’, and his conduct on all occasions had been ‘perfectly rational’; the governor of Maidstone Gaol, Major Charles William Bannister, later concurred with this view.
      After prosecution and defence counsels had given their closing arguments the jury retired to consider its verdict. In less than ten minutes they found the defendant guilty. Some members of the public began to applaud, but were soon silenced by Mellor. The prisoner was asked if he knew of any reason why the sentence of death should not be passed. Southey responded with silence.
      Justice Mellor donned his black cap and began to pass sentence. Only then did Southey speak. ‘My Lord,’ he interrupted, ‘I am asked if I have anything to say. I would like to know what are my privileges.’ Mellor replied that he may ‘state any point in arrest of judgment’, but he could not question the jury’s verdict. Southey tried to protest, but the judge only repeated his answer. After a few minutes of verbal wrangling the sentence of death was finally passed.

Woolmer’s Memorial

After the trial some believed that Ernest Southey had been unjustly condemned. Among these was the Chaplain of Maidstone Gaol, Rev. Charles Shirley Woolmer. He believed Southey’s death sentence should be commuted to life imprisonment on the grounds of insanity. On the 9th January 1866 he and nine others sent a memorial (or petition) to the then Home Secretary, Sir George Grey, requesting an inquest to properly establish ‘whether he is a person of sound mind’.  Grey didn’t like to be seen to interfere with the process of law and refused. Woolmer and the others produced a booklet outlining their views entitled A Remarkable Letter to the Home Secretary, but it was published too late to help Southey.
      On Thursday 11th January, during a fierce snowstorm, and with less than 500 people watching, Stephen Forwood, aka Ernest Walter Southey, was hanged outside Maidstone Goal. His execution was conducted by William Calcraft, which was unfortunate for him as Calcraft was not a very good executioner. Most of his hangings were botched affairs in which the condemned slowly throttled to death. Forwood/Southey’s body was left to hang for an hour, to ensure death. After being cut down a cast of his head was taken and his body buried within the grounds of Maidstone Prison, where it remains to this day. The cause of death on his death certificate reads: ‘hanging for murder’.
      Southey was one of the last people to be publically executed in Kent (the last was Richard Bishop on 2nd April 1868). Despite his initial notoriety both he and his crimes faded from public consciousness, replaced by greater horrors that were still to come…

Copyright © Marting Charlton, 2014.
You can follow me on twitter at @MSCharltonTweet

1 comment:

  1. A very interesting piece.

    I first read this account some years ago, and my recollection was that there was a third article, dealing with the murders at Starr's coffee-house. This seems be no longer available.

    What happened to the third article?

    ReplyDelete