Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 February 1912 — WORLD’S FAMOUS POLICE MYSTERIES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WORLD’S FAMOUS POLICE MYSTERIES

TRUE RECORDS OF EXTRAORDINARY CASES IN ANNALS OF CRIME

Ik Churchwarden Murderer

By H. M. EGBERT

(Copyright by W. G. Chapman)

' O more Ingenious and \f!l®7 & reckless scoundrel than Charles Peace ever existed. He ranks i( I with the famous Jack Sheppard, whose exploits in the eighteenth century made him a national hero among the criminal popula\a) tlon of London. W Charles was a genius A in crime, and it is to be hoped devoutly that the World will never look upon his like again. ■ - - -..V y--;■ The son of a file-maker and a devout Methodist, Peace was born in Sheffield, England, a little befoffifcthe expiration of the third decade of the .'last century. At an early age he developed three habits: A love of preaching, a fondness for the fiddle and a penchant for burglary. His boyhood is wrapped in an obscurity which need not be lifted; suffice it to state that for twenty years after reaching man’s estate he alternated between affluence and prison. It was not until he was approaching middle, life that he resolved to perfect the science of burglary, always a clumsy occupation and involving more risk than the rewards appear to merit That Peace was guilty of wholesale homicide is generally surmised. But only two murders were definitely brought home to him: that of Mr. Dyson at Banner Cross, Sheffield, for which he suffered the extreme penalty, and one at Whalley Range, near Manchester, for which a man named William Habron was wrongfully convicted. In the year 1875 Habron was placed on trial for the murder of a policeman named Cock, against whom It was known that he had a grudge. Footprints were found near the place where Cock had been shot, William Habron’s boots fitted them, and Habron waß found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to penal servitude for life. Peace was the murderer. But it is known that, when at work, Peace always went armed and was always ready to use his weapons. Ii Is probable, therefore, that during the many years in which he was the scourge of South London, Peace frequently took the life of his victim. «, The murder of Mr. Dyson was an unexpected act on the part of so desperate and cold-blooded a scoundrel as Peace. It was a crime of jealousy, for Peace was in love with Dyson’s wife. The evidence to inculpate him was direct, and a reward of £SOO was placed upon-his head. Thenceforward a hundred detectives sought for him up and down the country—and with this .preliminary the story of dhafles Peace, the criminal genius, begins. Some six months after the Banner Cross murder a gentleman named Robinson settled in Lambeth, a district of London south of the Thames, inbabit.*a hv a class of fairly, prosperous tradesmen and men of small means. The time of his residence in that region was signalized by an epidemic of burglaries, which succeeded each other so regularly and successfully, and so baffled the police, that they were universally believed to be the work of an organized gang of marauders. Gradually the range of these crimes extended through all the regions south of the Thames, throughGreenwich, Blaekheath and Putney. No city clerk retired to bed without the apprehension that he would awaken to find his household rifled. Moreover, even the acutest watch-dog appeared helpless before this strange marauder. t After a while Mr. Robinson removed to Peckbam, the residence of the wealthy suburbanite of moderate means. He at once won the esteem of all his neighbors. The detached villa in which he lived with his wife and his housekeeper, Mrs. Thompson, a worthy woman, but slightly inclined to drink, almost oozed respectability. There was not a policeman anywhere around but saluted Mr. Robinson respectfully when he passed or drove by in his neat and modest pony-trap. Mr. Robinson's gentle manners made him much sought after in local society. He was passionately addicted to music, and his soirees were faithfully became a pillar of the Methodist church, where .he prayed and sang fervently on’ Sundays. He was a churchwarden; his somber clothes indicated a contempt for the frivolities of the world; his musical propensities furnished the only apparent outlet for the emotional side of his nature. Mr. Robinson’s collection of fine Cremona violins was the envy of local connoisseurs. In his magnificent drawing room was a fine suite of walnut ■ pier >ijou hich t, as Bob-

ing safety In flight, became a householder in the district in which he carried on his trade. This, in fact, was the secret that he had discovered when he perfected the science of burglary. Become a respected resident of some district and steal from your neighbors, was his simple rule. But Peace had a more potent weapon of defence than this. He was an adept at “making up.” Even witnout any disguise he could elude pursuit. He was able upon the instant entirely to change his facial expression. He would shoot out his lower .lip and jaw, produce an effusion of blood to the face—and In place of the venerated churchwarden a mulatto scowled at his questioner! At Peckham he passed as a one-armed man, strapping his sound member to his side and replacing it with a wooden mechanism terminating in a hook. During a period of two years and more bald-headed, bespectacled Mr. Robinson resided comfortably among his costly furnishings in Evelina road, Peckham, rifling the neighborhood at leisure during' his nocturnal activities. But Nemesis- was on fyis trial: On November 17, 1878, a constable named Robinson—oddly enough—was performing night duty upon Blaekheath common when he came upon a burglar at work in a house in St. Johb’s park, and he proceeded to apprehend him. Finding his retreat cut off, the burglar drew his revolver and emptied its five chambers at the constable, severely wounding him in several .places. A desperate hand-to-hand encounter followed, but Peace, who was only five feet four inches in height, could make no headway against his as.sailant—Thrown to the ground, he whipped out a sheath knife and attempted to stab his captor, but the wounded policeman gained possession of the weapon and actually succeeded in conveying the burglar to the police station. There the man was searched. A new revolver of American manufacture was found upon him strapped to his waist. His face was stained with walnut juice, and at first he was miataken for a mulatto or half-caste. For some time he resolutely refused to give his name and address, but at length, under the stress of cross-exam-ination, he affected to break down and stated that he was" a half-caste from the United States, by name John Ward.

For two week 3 the further investigations of the police were baffled. But in the meantime the mysterious disappearance of the respectable Mr. Robinson had caused great uneasiness in Peckham, and fear was expressed that he had been made the victim of the burglar upon the occasion of one of his customary evening strolls. Before many days had elapsed Mr. Robinson’s—or rather John Ward’s —face had begun to assume a fairer coloring, and investigation now revealed the identity of theae two gentlemen. ConMr. Robinson affected to confess. He had been, he said, the victim of sudden and overwhelming temptation. In the long period that elapsed between his apprehension and his trial Peace had allowed his beard to' grow. When at last he was placed upon trial this gave him so venerable an appearance that the friends who came to see him, although convinced of his guilt against their inclination, treated him with respect and pitying affection as a man of position who had unaccountably fallen into evil ways. Mr. Robinson indulged in prayer, both for himself and for his visitors, pointed the moral from h(s own dreadful example and reminded his visitors of the reprisals that inevitably overtake the evil-doer. But he made no impression upon the court. He was found guilty of burglary and of attempted murder and was sentenced to serve a life term at penal servitude. Still exhorting, Mr. Robinson was removed to the cells and thence to Pentonville prison. Although the thumb-print system of identification had not at time been introduced into England, it was soon discovered by the prison authorities that “Jphn Ward,” alias “Mr. Robinson,” was none other than the notorious criminal, Charles Peace, who Mr. Dyson. He was brought back from Pentonville and placed upon his trial for murder. It was then that the public obtained knowledge for the first time of the marvelous career of this criminal. Mention has been made of Peace’s resolution to perfect the science of burglary. After the Dyson murder had made his native town of Sheffield an undesirable residence he moved to Manchester, where he was found guilty "Of burglary and sentenced to serve a long sentence. He was betrayed through his accomplices—two women, one of them his sister. That taught him one of the cardinal points of his perfected science. Henceforward he would have no accomplices; he would work alone. He would have no confederate to betray or to blackmail him- And, except for a friendly “fence,” whose name he refused to divulge even when at the foot of the gallows, he kept his resolution thenceforward.

Peace moved leisurely through the Midlands, cleaning up various towns successively, finally locating at Nottingham, where he took up pictureframing, becoming known at the same time as an enthusiastic angler, who preferred to sit upon the wharves plying his rod and line rather than to work at his trade. When his solitary figure had become sufficiently well known, he began a system of successful silk robberies from riverside warehouses, which produced sufficient plunder to enable him to inaugurate the role he played so successfully in London. It was while residing in the Evelina road at Packham that Peace brought his system to perfection Were he resided for two years with nothing to disturb his domestic happiness except his housekeeper’s—Mrs. Thompson—occasional lapses into inebfffeTy. His days were spent in the leisured calm of a gentleman of means who had retired from the activities of business life. Music was his constant solace. Whatever treasures he might discard; in hurried flight during any of his nocturnal expeditions, he never left a violin behind, and so vast became his stolen collection that he rented an empty room in . order to bouse his store. As his business continued to prosper he filled his house to overflowing with pilfered goods, and, when space was wanting, he rented other houses in different quarters of the city, which he filled with valuables and placed in charge of housekeepers through whose assistance —given unsuspectingly—he was enabled to dispose of the proceeds of his enterprise. He loved to frequent the courts, especially Bow street, and there he would 'sit for liburs studylng theproceedings while huge posters outside offered the reward for his apprehension. \ The house in Evelina road had been most admirably selected. The garden opened upon a railroad embankment, and along this Peace would creep at night without being under the necessity of opening his front door. Once safe under the cover of this embankment he could visit any part of the neighborhood, or go further afield, without his egress becoming known. He left no place for aqcident in his designs. He worked without accomplices and was wholly ignorant of the professional thief and his haunts. Stealthy as a cat, Peace would visit the place of his intended robbery and watch it for hours together, never allowing his anxiety to overcome his prudence until he was thoroughly familiar with the ground plan and the inhabitants. When at last he obtained entrance, his first act was to-pre-vent surprise by screwing up the doors. Then he would thoroughly rifle the room in which he worked, afterward, if no alarm was given, moving into another room and screwing up the doors of this apartment also, leaving a safe retreat in of necessity. When his job was completed he would creep through the window to the street with his booty, deposit it in the pony-trap, which was always left waiting In a convenient place, and drive off quietly in the direction cf the Evelina road. His peculiar power over watch-dogs haa already. been commented upoh. Peace never failed by some mysterious means to silence even the most ferocious animal. Another curious feat which he could accomplish, like Jack Sheppard, was to squeeze his body through the smallest of spaces. Once, when living in Nottingham, Peace was surprised by a pertinacious detective, who insisted upon learning his name and occupation. , “I’m a hawker of spectacles,” responded Peace, “and my license is upstairs. Wait here a moment and I’ll show It to you.” ». H% darted from the room, entered the second story of his house, and squeezed like a cat through a space six inches between two window bars, dropping to the ground. That detective never saw him again. Added to, the reckless Indifference of the man was a sardonic hnmor, instanced In a conversation which he held with a detective some time after his arrest. “What to tfrft use of t piling th© truth?” he complained, when the falseness of his pretended conversion was made the subject of comment. “Nobody will believe you. Let me give you an example. “When I was passing as Mr. Robinson of Peckham I walked into a chemist’s shop one morning, smoking an excellent cigar. “The chemist observed: "That Is: very good tobacco ydu are smoking, Mr. Robinson. Where do you get your cigars?* “T steal them,’ I replied, perfectly frankly and truthfully. It was . the absolute fact. 1 had stolen those cigars. But my friend, the chemist, thought it an excellent joke. He roared with laughter, and of course did not believe me In the least '.■+ **T wish you would steal a few of the same kind, 4 he answered, and X very generously promised to do so. “Some weeks afterward I came across a very line lot of-choice Havanas In a house I visited rather late at

night, and I secured them. The chemist got a box of them. “ ‘There, I have kept my word,’ I said. ‘I have stolen these for you. 1 hope you will like them.’ But he only laughed, rather more loudly than before. He did not believe me in the least, and yet from first to last I had told him nothing but the truth.’’ Peace was inordinately jealous of his art Difficulties only existed to be overcome by him. One day when, the panic aroused by his burglaries was at its height a neighbor consulted Peace as to what precautions he should take for the security of his home. PeAce entered his friend’s house, saw the ground plan, advised him as to the best disposition of his plate and jewelry, saw it secreted, and complacently rifled it during the following night. In fact, he practised his art with such breadth and courage as to set him among the immortals. Sufficient evidence was speedily obtained to warrant the trial of this criminal upon the charge of having murdered Mr. JDyaQn, and he .was removed from Pentonville to Leeds to await the assizes. It was during this removal under escort that he made his historical leap through the window of a railroad carriage, leaving his boot in his astonished guardian’s hand, while the train was traveling at express speed. This desperate venture shows the reckless character of the man. If he coulcl have got safely to the ground his subsequent apprehension would have been only a matter of a few hours at most. But his foolhardy attempt failed, and he was picked up as soofi as the train could be brought to a standstill at a place called Shire Oaks, bruised and battered and with one leg broken. Some weeks elapsed before he was sufficiently recovered to be placed upon trial, and during that period all England was ringing with his name and the story of his exploits. Conviction and sentence of death followed with the celerity that characterizes the English criminal trial. When doom was pronounced upon him he surrendered Jiimself wholly to the comforts of religion. Yet when within a few hours of his death he tried to make a barter of an act of justice which he was bound by every consideration to carry out. He had hinted at another crime of which he had been •roilty, but for which an innocent man had been condemned to penal servltude, and had'expressed his intention of confessing. But the magistrates had interfered with the visits of his friends; and Peace declared that unless he were allowed to spend his last hours as he pleased he would say nothing. Finally, however, at the last moment, he confessed that the murder of the policeman, Cock, a crime for which William Habron had been Bened above, had been committed by himself alone. Habron was subsequently released—and Peace obtained due posthumous credit for his magnanimity. "He prayed for his Jailers,” says a biographer, "for his executioner, for the ordinary, for his wife, for Mrs. Thompson, and he went to' his death with the sure step of one who, having done his duty, is reconciled with the world. The mob testified Its affectionabs admiration by dabbing him ‘Char*

ley,' and remembered with effusion his last grim pleasantry. “‘What is the scaffold?’ he asked with sublime earnestness. “And the answer came quick and sanctimonious: ‘A short cut to heaven.’ ” The detective who elicited from Peace his last confession which set Habron free has, however, a different tale to tell. The story goes that he died with a grim jest .upon his lips. Turning to Marwood, the executioner, who was preparing to spring the bolt, be said: “You have fastened my halter too tight; it hurts me/’