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On the morning of the 4th March, 1851, Margaret Dawson was preparing for her wedding day. She was, at thirty-eight years old, about to marry the Reverend Francis Hewgill. Margaret had originally hailed from Yorkshire, although she had spent the last few years in Northumberland. Following her Northumbrian wedding she would move to join her new husband in his parish of Trowell, Nottinghamshire. But the bridegroom was not as sprightly as his bride-to-be, instead he was nearing almost seventy years old. Their marriage would only last seven years before Francis’ death left Margaret a hugely affluent widow.
During the 1830s Francis, already nearing his sixties, had volunteered to take care for his nephew Henry Hewgill, aged twenty-two. Henry, despite his youth, already had a wife and infant son, who Francis also took on. The household Francis brought them into was one of order and substance. He had four domestic staff (a number which would slowly dwindle when he lived with Margaret) and he supported his nephew to the best of his abilities. This careful nurturing resulted in Henry following his uncle’s spiritual footsteps and becoming the curate in Crofton, Fareham Hampshire. But Francis’ efforts to raise a gentleman were marred with scandal when, in 1853, Henry Hewgill was dragged before the magistrates at Fareham charged with obtaining money by false pretenses. This conviction pierced the quiet and subdued existence Francis had been enjoying with his caring new wife.
Need or Greed?
Henry had used both his uncle’s good name and that of the Rev W. M. Cosser to persuade two local men to hand over large amounts of money. He claimed the first amount, taken from a shop owner called Thomas Watters, was requested by Rev W. M. Cosser to pay off debts. Henry had forged Cosser’s handwriting to support his story and tricked the shop keeper into believing him. The second amount was fraudulently received from a church warden, Daniel Bartholomew, supposedly on behalf of Henry’s uncle. Once again he claimed the money was part of an owed payment and copied his uncle’s handwriting. But why did Henry need the money? And what had drove a well-stationed man to criminal behaviour?
Intimate Dealings
Henry had married Frances Decoetlogon on the 22nd August 1836, aged just eighteen years old. Five years later the young couple, and their infant son Charles Henry, were living with Henry’s generous uncle Francis Hewgill. Ten years later the couple, joined by two more children called Antonina and Ellen, had set up their own large household. Also living within this house was Henry’s mother, Harriet, and a selection of domestic staff. By 1853 the couple had added one more child to their growing family and had been settled in the area of Crofton for around eighteen months.
But the move to Crofton had not brought the couple joy, and Francis soon sought affection elsewhere. Retrospective newspaper reports claimed that, whilst covering for the local rector during a bout of sickness, Henry had been required to attend the local school more frequency. It was during these visits that a “close intimacy had sprung up” between the curate and the school’s mistress; Miss Macfarlane.
Henry concocted a desperate plan to elope with his lover; obtaining the money to do so by defrauding the aforementioned men. In the November of 1853 Henry and Miss Macfarlane “suddenly left Crofton” and their disgraced families with the stolen money and headed for Boulogne.
Following the couple’s disappearance their families found a secret diary written by the school teacher, and the scandalous entries were later published in the local newspaper. These entries described the dates, times and places of the couple’s illicit meetings and included notes such as “Dear Harry kissed me for the first time.”
During their absence in France the couple were reported to have been “living in the first style, and frequenting the theatre and other places of amusement”. They returned to London after a few weeks and, upon hearing an arrest warrant was out for his fraudulent tricks, Henry abandoned his lover with no money and fled.
When both were found Henry was apprehended to be placed immediately before the courts. He was convicted of having obtained money by false pretenses and imprisoned for six months. Ironically, upon Francis’ death in 1858, his uncle left a personal estate worth just under £6,000. Had Henry and his lover cooled their passions they may have received some of this legacy and been able to elope ‘legally’ but, instead, this money allowed Margaret to live comfortably on independent means until her own death in 1902. Whereupon, having resided in Ripon for the majority of her widowhood, she used the Dickson, Archer and Thorp firm to settle her legacy and effects totaling £10934 1s 6d.
We would like to thank the volunteers who have tirelessly transcribed the Hewgill’s marriage settlement and related documents. A document retrospectively concerning the original settlement, and Margaret’s assets, can be viewed along with its transcription here.
On the 1st May, 1871, evidence was taken before the Coroner’s Jury to discover why Mr James Turner had been tragically killed on Stamford’s level crossing only five days prior. The inquest saw seven witnesses testify, including James’ thirteen year old son and the seventy-three year old level-crossing gate-keeper. The inquest was focused upon three things; firstly whether James’ had been in a state fit enough to drive the cart, secondly whether Edward Dixon (the gate-keeper) should have shown his semaphore signal (danger signal) or even opened the gate at all, and thirdly whether the oncoming train had sounded its whistle. Changing any of these three variables could have saved James’ life and, by proving safety regulations were not adhered to, could end the careers of three men.
The story of James Turner had started long before that fateful afternoon in Stamford. He had been born to Alexander Turner in Wooler, around 1829, and married his wife Mary Moone on the 15th January 1844 at Christchurch in the parish of Tynemouth. The couple had five young children by 1871; John born in 1858, Elizabeth born in 1860, James born in 1862, Margaret born in 1865 and Alexander born in 1867. James had kept his family clothed and fed by working as a ‘hind’ for Mr Davison.
On that fateful day in April 1871 James had let his eldest son, John, accompany him whilst he delivered potatoes from his cart. The thirteen year old John gave a brave and emotional testimony of that fateful day before the packed court. He confirmed that they had been travelling from Stamford to Heifeilaw Bank with three carts of potatoes, and “Father had charge of two carts (second horse tied to the first cart) and I drove the third cart.” After they had delivered the potatoes to Mr Craven they were invited to stay a while in his house. During the inquest John maintained that neither had consumed alcohol whilst on Mr Craven’s premises, but eyewitnesses who saw James later that day noted that he looked “lazy and glazed.” On their way home they crossed the railway at the Stamford level crossing, and John described the harrowing event in vivid detail;
“Father had reins upon his horse but I cannot say he had hold of them. I did not call to my Father. I could not see along the line to the north (there was a big bridge ramp); the Gatekeepers house prevented me. The West gate was open. I saw the Gatekeeper Edward Dixon as the first horse was facing the line standing at the east side of the line below the Gate at the rails adjoining the Gate. I cannot say whether the East Gate was open or not but the West one was. I saw no one with the Gatekeeper …. as the cart got onto the up line the Engine came from the north and struck the horse and the fore part of the cart. I pulled up. I did not see what came of my Father. I cannot say how far the Engine went. The next thing I saw was Father lying on the 6 foot with his head on his right arm on his face. He was clear of the rails – he was senseless. I cannot say he was bleeding – I cannot say who took him off. The Gatekeeper was leaning against the rails. The carts did not stop at all – Gatekeeper was looking towards us – this was a few minutes after 6pm.”
Local news reports also relayed a similar tale; commenting particularly upon the brutality of what his son had to witness. Clearly in shock following the incident, John could not recall who helped his father but those individuals also took the stand before the coroner’s court. One of those was Thomas Carr, a platelayer who lived in the cottage on the west side of the Stamford crossing, he recalled how “my boy shouted out Turner was killed …. I ran out – on the upline I saw the Engine … standing 100 yards from the crossing to the south. The horse was dead & 29 yards from the crossing. Part of the cart was on the west line. James Turner was lying on the 6 foot way – with his head on his right arm on his right side, face downwards. The Gatekeeper was standing on the up line above the crossing. Deceased was insensible, I went away for assistance.” Another, Stephen Rea, was also a resident at the crossing and said that he went to help when he heard the Gate keeper shouting a man had been killed. The men took James home where he was attended by Dr Henry Caudlish, who “found [the] deceased suffering from concussion of the brain and inflammation of both lungs, caused by an accident such as has been described by the witnesses. I saw him also that evening and up to his death – which took place from the injuries received on Saturday the 29th at a few minutes past 12. The deceased was a vigorous man in a healthy state of body.”
Why James had been able to take his cart over the crossing when there had been a scheduled train approaching confused both the coroner and the media. Thomas Carr called the gatekeeper Edward Dixon a “steady man” who had been in the service of the Railway Company for 23 years. Carr attested to knowing of the regulations of the crossing and that; “it is the Gatekeepers duty to ascertain if there is a train coming or an Engine on the line, before he opens the Gates and he must be satisfied none is in sight before he opens either Gate. He should also show his danger signal (semaphore signal) and keep it exhibited till the line is clear. Then he closes the gate and alters the signals. When on the line an Engine can be seen on a clear day ¾ of a mile to the north and about 1 ½ miles to the south. The express was due at Bilton about 6 o’clock p.m. and at the crossing 10 minutes later. Gatekeepers duty is to stand on the 6 feet to look for her coming. The Express was at this time on Thursday night. I was in the cottage at 10 past 6 but I heard no whistling. My cottage looks onto the line to the east.”
The absence of a whistle, and the need for a semaphore signal, was also noted by other witnesses. Stephen Rea did not hear a whistle or see any signals before the unfortunate event, but he also asserted that Dixon was “perfectly steady, I never saw anything amiss … Dixon’s age is about 70 years, his sight and hearing are perfect. From half past 5 in the morning till 10 at night, his duties last, no person attends between times 10 at night and half past 5 the next morning. He gets one Sunday in the month to himself.” Had a twenty-three years of long hours and stressful work finally overcome the aging gatekeeper? Was he guilty of incompetence by not raising the semaphore signal and forgetting that there was a scheduled train?
The train drivers, Richard Dobson and Hugh Laing, certainly believed that fault lay with the gatekeeper. They confirmed that they had “left Newcastle on Thursday last with train leaving at 1.30 p.m. We left Tweedmouth a 5.12p.m … When we got to the back signal before coming to Stamford Laing blew the whistle – I am certain of it. That is about 600 yards before coming to the crossing. The rule does not say he is obliged to whistle and the Drivers act on their own discretion. At that time the rate would not exceed 24 or 25 miles an hour.” The driver, Hugh Laing, had been 23 years in the service of North Eastern Railway and tragically recalled how “When we were about ½ way between the back signal and the crossing I saw the Gatekeeper cross from the west side to the east side of the line – he had no white signal in his hand that I saw. Nor yet was the semaphore signal up I would have topped. The Gatekeeper went to the east gates and I expected he was going to shut them. I then stepped to the left side of the Engine & I saw the Gateman return to the line holding up his hands as if to stop something coming from the west. I was about 50 or 60 yards north of the crossing. I then saw almost immediately the horse & cart come on to the down line. I couldn’t see anyone in it. It kept on and the Engine struck it at the crossing. I had reversed the Engine and pulled up at about 60 yards past the crossing and then went back and saw the deceased on the 6 foot. I assisted in taking him off the line. No notice of the Engine and tender was given to the Gatekeeper. I applied the brakes before the collision as soon as I saw the horse and cart. I could have seen a man if he had been on the cart. It was impossible to stop the Engine sooner.”
This damning evidence of witnesses proved that Edward Dixon, the gate keeper, had failed in at least some of his duties. Edward had been born in the Bamburgh parish and, like Mary Turner, had been widowed with a young family. He had flitted between residing with his daughter Julia and a family called the May’s. Following the subtle indications of his guilt, Edward was finally able to address the coroner’s court as its final witness;
“I am the crossing keeper at Stamford station on the North Eastern Railway. I have been there 10 months. I go on at half past 5 and my duties end at 10p.m. I am 73 years of age. My sight and hearing are not impaired, I can see and hear as well as ever I did. My duty is to watch the gates and shut and open them on anything crossing the line. I have no instructions as to which Gates to open first. I think not, but I generally open the far one first. On Thursday last about 10 past 6 I was opening the East Gate. I saw the carts a minute or two before coming towards the West Gate and I saw the man lying with his head on the fore part of the Cart with his back to the North, he did not speak. When I observed him coming on the line the West Gate was open and I crossed to open the East Gate. I saw nothing coming till I turned round from the Gate. I then saw the Engine & Tender coming perhaps 100 yards from the crossing. I then shouted to deceased and held up both my hands at the last shout he looked over his shoulder lazily and came onto the line. When I shouted first he was just coming in at the West Gate. I heard no whistling. I could have heard a whistle from the back signal post. The wind was from the West but there was a goodish breeze which might carry the sound away. It is my duty to look both ways North and South before opening the Gates. I looked both ways and saw nothing. From the time I went to open the West Gate till the Engine and Tender came up it would scarcely be a minute I could have seen them if they had been at the back signal. He was not within the signal. I was watching the Express…. Unless I see something on the line I do not use the semaphore signal. I have been occasionally a Crossing Keeper before I came here. I live at Lucker but I lodge at the Gate. I never saw the semaphore used unless there was something on the line. I feel no inconvenience from the hours. About 8 or 10 Carts in a day, about 14 or 15 vehicles each way will cross. The semaphores are not used unless there is danger and I saw no danger. There is no rule that I am to put up the semaphore signal every time to open the Gates, that I know of. There is a copy of the Rules in the cabin, but partly defaced, I have read them. I always use the semaphore signal when stock (cattle or sheep) are crossing but not when Carts are crossing. I had no knowledge of the Engine and Tender coming back. I have 12/- a week. Rule “175 says” When the Railway is required to be crossed the Gatekeeper shall before opening the Gates shall satisfy himself that no Engine is in sight – he shall then show his Danger Signals and keep them exhibited until the line is clear when he shall close the Gates and after the signals.”
The inquest duly listened to all the witness statements that day and returned a verdict which found severe failings in the way the Railway Company treated its staff. They concluded that James had died from his injuries sustained at the crossing, and called to the Company’s attention the long hours Edward was required to work and the fact that he was not informed when “special” services were running.
Whether Dixon or the train men were to blame was immaterial to James’ widow Mary. She had lost her husband and the family’s main provider, but the coroner’s inquest gave her a platform upon which to receive compensation from the railway. She was also awarded the jurors fees for her loss. But her recovery from despair was short-lived; as in June 1871 she also lost her daughter Margaret to sickness. This was a sad turn of events which was recorded in the notes of solicitors working for the Dickson, Archer and Thorp firm.
We would like to thank the volunteer who kindly transcribed the documentation around this case and provided additional information through careful research. We would also like to thank the volunteer who digitised the items to enable us to share them with you.
On Saturday, 6th March 1875, a disturbance in the Angel Inn was to end with the death of a local man.
The events that took place that afternoon were described by the Alnwick Mercury published on the 13th March as ‘RIOT AT THE ALNWICK MARCH HIRING’.
March hiring’s were a common practice in England, it was a time for farmers to hire workers for the next twelve months. The 1875 hiring’s saw a great number of agricultural labourers arriving in Alnwick as well as large number of pitmen from the surrounding collieries. The Alnwick Mercury described that Saturday as “such a concourse evidently contained the elements of tumult and disorder; and what made matters worse was that there was more than the ordinary drunkenness, as the rain that fell heavily during great part of the day drove the people to resort to the public-houses to a much greater extent than would otherwise have been the case.”
The disturbance in the Angel Inn was down to two brothers, John and Thomas Waite. John Waite had been drinking in the Angel and was worse for the drink that he had consumed. The Alnwick Mercury reports that he behaved in a “riotous and noisy manner” in a downstairs room and even worse when he went upstairs. The article continues with “he was so violent that at length Mr (John) White, the landlord, sent for the police to put him out.” When the police arrived, they asked Waite to leave the premises but he refused and continued to act in a violent manner. Waite was taken hold of by the two constables with a view to eject him from the inn but as they walked down the stairs, he broke free and returned to the upstairs room. The constables recaptured him and this time were able to get him downstairs where he was pleaded with to go home quietly. Instead of doing so, Waite punched one of the constables, P C Robinson, causing him to stagger. Waite grappled with the constable and unable to shrug him off, P C Robinson drew his baton and struck Waite on the side of the head.
The constables then brought their prisoner out of the Angel Inn yard onto Fenkle Street with the intention to escort him to the police station on St. Michael’s Lane. To do this, they had to cross an open space which was crowded with people. It was at this stage that Thomas Waite grabbed his brother in an attempt to rescue him and a number of the crowd joined in to help him. The constables were able to hold onto their prisoner and tried to make their way through the drunken crowd. It was at this stage that Police Sergeant John Hately and two other constables made their way through the crowd to assist P C Robinson and P C Connell. The report states that the route to the police station was packed with almost two thousand people, most of whom were drunk and jostling the policemen. Due to the pressure of the crowd, the policemen and their prisoner were forced to the Shambles on the opposite side. It was here that John Waite was rescued from the police by his friends.
The police formed a line in front of John Dickman’s shop and wielding their batons, were able to clear a space in front of them. Not wanting to provoke the crowd further, Sergeant Hately decided that he and his men should make their way over to the entrance to the nearby Correction House Yard where they could more easily defend themselves should the need arise. Leading his men forward, Sergeant Hately found himself surrounded by the mob and whilst defending himself he fell to the ground, ashen faced. The constables rushed forward to assist but the jeering crowd made it difficult. P C Robinson was first to reach Hately and as he was trying to lift Hately to his feet, he was kicked and jostled by the drunken crowd. Eventually the constables were able to carry Hately and force their way to the police station. Medical assistance was called but to no avail, he was declared dead. The post mortem was held on Sunday, 7th March by Dr A J Main who found no wounds on Hately’s body, but an examination of Hately’s heart found evidence that he had died of a heart attack. Sergeant John Hately left a widow and eight young children.
It was nearly 5 o’clock before the riotous crowd dispersed into smaller groups, both John and Thomas Waite were apprehended and taken to the cells in the police station. The next day, Monday 8th March, saw both brothers in court where the magistrate, Mr H Lisle, ordered them to be remanded for eight days. The Waite brothers, together with six others were charged with assaulting and resisting Police Constables Robinson and Connell in their execution of their duty. All eight appeared in front of the town’s magistrates on Saturday, 20th March and after hearing the evidence, John and Thomas Waite and the other six were all fined the sum of £10 with failure to pay would result in three months imprisonment. All paid their fines except for one, a Thomas Dunn, who was sent to prison.
This piece has been researched and produced by a volunteer working on the Dickson, Archer and Thorp Project. We would like to thank him for his work.