The Alnwick Abductions

A Gentleman Esq

William Beresford Orde Lisle was born on June 25th 1886 at 50 Jermyn Street, London. His father, Bertram Lisle, was a barrister-at-law from Alnwick and his mother, Jane Lucinda, was a Australian lady. William grew up between the family home in Jermyn Street, London and Brainshaugh House, Northumberland. Following his father’s untimely demise in 1893 William appears to have floated between various relatives. In 1908 he gave his address as being Bailiffgate, Alnwick the previous home of William Beresford Lisle (potentially his grandfather) who had died in 1903 leaving an estate of £1869 19s 11d. Evidence shows that William the younger received consecutive (and extremely substantial) inheritances from numerous well-placed family members. But William, despite being the wealthy son of barrister, squandered this money and repeatedly found himself on the wrong side of the law.

 

William Beresford Orde Lisle, as drawn by a court sketch artist (1908). Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

His vast fortune brought with it the temptation of fast cars, alcohol and women. His escapades and wild behaviours often saw him placed before the magistrates, where he was regularly defended by the Dickson, Archer and Thorp legal firm. The firm’s partners were very close to William’s family and had kept amongst their personal papers a scrapbook filled with the crimes and lives of Alnwick folk, now held by the Northumberland Archives. Recorded within this book were the criminal adventures of William himself, including a play-by-play account of one of his most infamous jaunts.

Abduction

William’s most scandalous crime by far was a spontaneous road-trip, taken during the summer of 1907. It involved drink driving, an international gun-fight and the abduction of two girls from an Alnwick Street. The girls in question were Louisa Rose Whittle and Theresa Roper. Louisa was a fifteen year old servant girl who, on the 23rd June 1907, was walking in Alnwick with her friend Theresa, then aged seventeen. Both girls were stopped by Lisle who asked if they would like to have a ride in a motor car. Both girls agreed to the short drive, as subsequent news reports published after the abduction explained “the temptation to drive in a motor car was to the child very great.” They were possibly encouraged to join the journey due to the presence of another female in the car (who was either Lisle’s controversial wife Amy or his regular female companion Violet Green alias Eva Green).

 

Reports on the abduction court case, as recorded in the scrapbook belonging to the Dickson, Archer and Thorp Collection. NR0 11343 B/DAT/26

 

Lisle’s offer of a short motor ride soon turned into the journey from hell. In the upcoming months Lisle would face a court accused of abduction, and the two girls would give damning evidence against the social-flyer. They claimed Lisle appeared to have consumed alcohol prior to making his offer, and that once the girls were in the car he directed the driver to go onto the Plough (a pub.) The gentlewomen who had accompanied the group then left the car at the Plough and did not return. The remaining passengers then went onto drink in the public houses of Alnmouth and Newcastle.

Following a heady drinking session Lisle took the girls to a different town – one they had never seen before. This turn of events frightened the girls, who now requested to be returned home. The prosecution theorised that this unknown place was probably Durham, although Lisle contested and claimed it was actually Morpeth.

 

A court cartoon from the 1908 court appearance, Reference: NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

The girls, far from home and in an unfamiliar place, began to panic. They found a policeman, to whom they complained about their treatment and requested to be taken back to Alnwick. But the policeman simply laughed and refused to believe their story. They were forced to return to Lisle’s side as he took them onto Darlington, where the group spent a night in a hotel. The following day Lisle instructed the driver to return them to Newcastle and, once back in Northumberland, Lisle hired another car and driver to take himself and the girls onto York. On the third day the group went to Huntingdon and, having spent the night here, Lisle exclaimed “You are seeing life, you must see London too.”

London was one of Lisle’s favourite haunts. He had a tendency during his teenage years of repeatedly running away from his boarding school to seek adventures in the capital. Once in London Lisle bought both girls new hats having previously “jumped on their own ones,” possibly during a fit of rage or drunkeness. At this point Lisle became “sickened” of Louisa, the youngest of the two, and, without allowing Theresa to say goodbye, put Louisa on a train back to Newcastle. Theresa and Lisle then went onto Dover, where he told her that they were about to board a boat “for Alnwick.” The boat actually took the couple to Brussels, where he proceeded to extract £400 and drink heavily.

In Ostend he tried to persuade Theresa to share her room with him. When she refused and rebuffed his advances he fired his revolver in a public house, scattering the patrons within. Frightened by his behaviour, and having never been away from her Northumbrian home, Theresa begged Lisle to give her some money and allow her to leave. However he brutally refused, telling her she would “starve” instead. Exasperated with her treatment Roper plotted her own escape; she waited until he was distracted and ran from him. She later claimed to have entered seven shops, but found no one understood her as she attempted to explain her plight. Dazed and frightened she fainted. When she awoke someone had brought her to the British Vice-Consul, she was eventually sent home and upon her return remained ill in bed for three weeks.

Court

Meanwhile Louisa’s parents, horrified at her disappearance, insisted she was examined by a doctor. They refused to believe that nothing “immoral” had occurred between the the girls and Lisle, but the examining doctor was able to confirm that the young girl had been telling the truth and nothing had occurred. Still enraged Louisa’s parents planned to take Lisle to court upon his return to England.

Likewise Theresa’s father, Mr Robert Roper, also took Lisle to court. Because Lisle had taken the girl further then London Mr Roper insisted his daughter gave damning evidence before the judge. In her examination before the court she complained that Lisle had refused to take the girls home, despite them becoming increasingly distressed as the days rolled on. She also said he had repeatedly tried to share a room with the girls but that they had stood firm and refused him entry, something that was verified by the doctors.

 

Theresa Roper and her father, pictured at the 1908 court case. Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

In both cases the girls were awarded large settlements, although one judge brushed off the seriousness of Lisle’s actions by calling the event a “prank” which had went terribly wrong. The court accused the girls of being too trusting of Lisle’s promises, and the subsequent public scandal must have had a profound impact upon their character and reputation. Barely three years later the girls elected to change their names, perhaps trying to obtain some level of anonymity, with Theresa becoming Dorothy and Louisa becoming Lizzie.

 

The information found in this blog has been extracted from original documents held in the Dickson, Archer and Thorp collection, as well as contemporary newspapers.

 

A Life of High Jinks

William Beresford Orde Lisle was born into upper Northumbrian society on June 25th 1886 at 50 Jermyn Street, London. His parents, Jane Lucinda (an Australian lady) and Bertram Lisle (a barrister-at-law from Alnwick), were well connected and their financial standing allowed William to lead a life of luxury and entertainment.

Childhood

William grew up between the family home in Jermyn Street, London and their country seat at Brainshaugh House, Northumberland. One can still visit William’s birthplace in Jermyn Street; just around the corner from St James’ Palace. References to the street first appeared in rate books for St Martin’s parish in 1667. In these documents the street was referred to as ‘Jarman Street’ in reference to the Earl of St. Alban’s, a man called Henry Jermyn, whose trustees had originally leased the land from the crown in the latter 1600s.

Number 50, the place of William’s birth, is now a high-end fashion shop called BOGGI MILANO. During the nineteenth century Jermyn Street was filled with hotels including the notable Waterloo Hotel and Cox Hotel (the latter of which was the Lisle’s contemporary neighbours, occupying numbers 53 – 55). An influx of visitors to the area was therefore facilitated by the wide choice in accommodation, and this allowed the street to develop both financially and culturally.  In the 1890s Messrs J. Lyons and Company decided to capitalise upon the up-and-coming area by expanding their successful teashop in Piccadilly to new premises in Jermyn Street. A museum was even established in the street, thus encouraging a cultural surge. The museum was first established in the 1840s to house a collection of geological specimens although, by the time of William’s birth in 1886, the collection had begun to outgrow its site and the building was eventually demolished in the early 1900s. Numbers 57 and 58 of Jermyn street, although altered significantly over time, were used extensively as workshops. Whilst number 80 had been some form of public house since 1783.

The Jermyn Street familiar to the Lisle’s would therefore have been a bustling centre full of people and trade. Moreover, its close proximity to the Royal buildings would have made it a nucleus for political activity and the perfect base for an up-and-coming barrister such as Bertram. In comparison, the Lisle’s home in Brainshaugh House offered a completely different pace of life; in a rural setting with greater space. This second property is now a grade II listed building close to a picturesque ruined priory.

Family Connections

Bertram, William’s father, was a well-established member of Northumberland society. In the 1889 electoral poll for his local area he was registered as being one of only two “Ownership Voters, Parliamentary.” He also sat on the Board of Governors for the Alnwick Infirmary and chaired the Alnwick Ragged School Board. In 1882 he was involved in a terrible cart accident along with another gentleman (most likely his father or brother). During the accident the two passengers, along with their driver, were thrown from their vehicle when the horse became spooked. The out-of-control the horse and cart then trampled a passing regiment of the 3rd Northumberland Fusiliers; leaving two seriously injured.

Bertram survived the accident seemingly unscathed but, following the birth of his only child, it seemed to “intimates” that “Mr. Lisle’s brain was weakening, and for a prolonged period he was under the night and day supervision of three male nurses in his own home.” Frightened at his son’s rapid decline Bertram’s father allowed for him to be operated on at Morningside Royal Infirmary. He survived barely a fortnight before dying in his Edinburgh hospital bed during November 1893. Upon his death the barrister-at-law left an estate equaling £1745.8s.6d to his widow Jane Lucinda and Thomas Alder Thorp, a friend from his Alnwick legal circle. Thomas Alder Thorp was a main partner in the county’s well-known Dickson, Archer and Thorp legal firm. Found amongst the firm’s papers, now held by the Northumberland Archives, was a scrapbook of newspaper clippings. This fascinating item traces the history of Alnwick folk through their criminal misdemeanors, and William Lisle was by far its most prolific character.

 

A tragic description of William’s childhood trauma, taken from a scrapbook of newspaper clippings. Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

Following his father’s untimely demise William appears to have floated between relatives. In retrospect, relatives stated that they knew his father’s early death meant Beresford would likely become “a troublesome lad.” William did not disappoint – running away from his boarding school twice. In 1908 he gave his address as Bailiffgate, Alnwick – the previous home of a William Beresford Lisle (potentially his grandfather) who had died in 1903 leaving an estate of £1869.19s.11d. There is substantial evidence to support the notion that William the younger received consecutive inheritances made up of substantial amounts. But this constant flow of money only seemed to fuel his desire to live a ‘fast’ life.

Living on the Wrong Side of the Law

William’s string of good financial fortune brought with it the temptation of fast cars, alcohol and women. His leisurely lifestyle was a one of high jinks and increasingly wild escapades – activities which often found him stood before a judge. Alongside him, pleading his defense, were usually the Dickson, Archer and Thorp firm. These men were clearly close to William’s late father and often persuaded the presiding judges to act with clemency, whilst repeatedly encouraging William to find help from rural rehabilitation centres. Court records repeatedly mentioned a mystery ‘illness’ suffered by William, and often used to explain his wild behaviour. It would appear that this ‘illness’ may have been some form of addiction.

William’s first crime, and arguably his most scandalous, was a motor jaunt taken in the summer of 1907 which led to accusations of drink driving, the abduction of a child and an international gun-fight. Barely two months later Lisle and his motor-car were in trouble yet again when, on August 30th 1907, Lisle arrived in Chester-le-Street from Durham to visit the Lambton Arms. Accompanying him were his chauffeur and a young gentlewoman – possibly his wife. Upon leaving the premises Lisle got into the car and attempted to start it. When the vehicle refused to start he became increasingly agitated, and was further irritated by onlookers querying what was wrong. He eventually got the car to move but, as he did so, it creeped backwards crashing into a shop window. The window belonged to John Byers, a tobacconist and “fancy-goods” dealer, and the accident resulted in £64.11s.3d of damage. At first Lisle accepted liability, but in the days which followed, he changed his story and wholly denied his role. Yet witnesses to the accident attested to seeing him commit the crime, and the judge presiding over the Byers’ compensation case slammed Lisle’s actions labelling him as an inexperienced driver who should not have been behind the wheel.

 

Chester-le-Street crash newspaper clipping, taken from a scrapbook held within the Dickson, Archer and Thorp collection. Reference: NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

The year of 1907 did not close quietly for Lisle, as he was once again hauled before the courts to stand alongside George Taylor and Albert Ferguson when accused of poaching game and trespassing. The men were said to have used a motor-car to stalk the countryside and woodland surrounding Felton and gun down game. These activities resulted in a judge binding Lisle over with a hefty sum; in return for good behaviour. When passing his sentence the judge commented that Lisle had many more upcoming court dates for additional crimes of a more ‘serious nature’.

 

Accusations and court appearances for game hunting, as reported and recorded in the scrapbook. Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

It was during the October of 1908 when Lisle really began to spiral and developed a certain notoriety for criminal high jinks. At the beginning of the month he was placed before Bow Street Police Courts for attempting to steal an automatic money box attached to one of the lavatories in Leicester Square’s Tube Railway Station. A witness claimed to have seen him attempting to release the box from its fixings using a chisel. The court heard that Lisle, who gave no fixed address and was listed as being twenty two years old, had been reduced to stealing the money box having inherited a vast fortune of £5,000 with a £10,000 annuity which he had completely blown within eight months. He was described as looking “ill and dejected as he stood in the dock, … leaned heavily on the rail, with his head bent” and his solicitor Mr Dixon (possibly a mispelling of Dickson) had advised him to admit his guilt. Mr Dixon argued that the crime had been the result of heavy drinking and that Lisle did not need or want the money in the box. The solicitor claimed that, should the young man need money, he could ask his friends in the North. He then argued that his client needed medical attention not jail, and the judge praised Dixon (Dickson) for his kind and considerate treatment of a client. The judge then agreed with the defense, and bound Lisle over with a value of £200.

 

Newspaper reports regarding William’s theft from a public toilet. Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

Following this particular court case Lisle sought treatment and entered himself into a rehabilitation hospital. But, after only two days, he discharged himself and headed straight to Romano’s restaurant in London where he enjoyed a lavish meal. However, upon receiving the bill, he “suddenly realised” that he lacked the sufficient funds to pay and was hauled once again before the Bow Street Police Court for obtaining credit by fraud. The judge once again acted leniently and this time he was forced to enter a rehabilitation retreat for twelve months.

 

Newspaper reports regarding his fraud in Romano’s restaurant in London Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26.

 

During his time in treatment another case was heard against him, this time in Newcastle’s magistrates court. Here he was accused of discharging a revolver in the “danger of passengers” on Shields Road West, Newcastle during the previous April. Lisle was represented in this case by a Mr Lambert, yet he received no formal punishment on accord to being forcibly housed in a protected rehabilitation center. After discharging the revolver Lisle appears to have gone on the run. The police, working on false information, believed him to be hiding in Eleanor Maud Reidford’s lodging house on Westgate Road. The house was popular with theatrical workers and the police decided to storm and search it. Involvement with the police in such a violent crime caused the business to loose clients, and the whole affair tarnished Reidford’s reputation. Reidford would later bring a case of defamation against the Newcastle Corporation for her treatment.

 

Shields Road Incident, detailed in newspaper reports. Reference NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

In 1909 Lisle was again held before the court for the offence of theft; reportedly committed against his own family. This crime took place at the home of Lisle’s father-in-law in Lish Avenue, Whitley Bay. During the court case Lisle’s in-laws testified to his odd behaviour, and claimed that Lisle had stolen money and goods before wrecking the dwelling to make it unlivable.

 

Whitley Bay theft against relative, recorded in the newspaper scrapbook. Reference: NRO 11343 B/DAT/26

 

The scrapbook obsessively records other court appearances, extending into the 1920s, which clearly exasperated the Dickson, Archer and Thorp lawyers. One of whom, Thomas Alder Thorp, told an assembled court in 1907 that “It appears nobody can prevent him from doing these things if he wishes to do so.”

A Timeline of Crime

1907, June: Abducts Louisa Rose Whittle, 15 years old, and Theresa Roper, 17 years old.

1907, August: Car crash at Chester-Le-Street, causing considerable damage to a shop window.

1907, December and 1908, January: Repeated offenses of trespassing and poaching game.

1908, October: Attempts to steal an automatic money box, attached to one of lavatories at Leicester Square Tube Railway Station.

1908, October (only a few days after prior offence): Stands accused of obtaining credit by fraud at Romano’s Restaurant, London.

1908, October (following prior two offences): He is taken to a ‘home’ at Huntingdon (probably some form of rehabilitation retreat) to stay for twelve months.

1908, November: A case against him is heard before the magistrates but he does not appear. He is accused of discharging a revolver during the previous April in the “danger of passengers” on Shields Road West, Newcastle.

1909: At the Northumberland Assizes Eleanor Maud Reidford accuses the Newcastle Corporation of slander and defamation of character having lost business from the police (working on false information) circling and entering her lodging house on Westgate Road in their search for Beresford Lisle.

1909, October: Lisle is accused of attempted theft from his father-in-law’s property on Lish Avenue, Whitley bay.

 

The information held in this blog has been extracted from original documents held in the Dickson, Archer and Thorp collection as well as contemporary newspapers. A special credit is given to British History Online for access to Survey of London: Volumes 29 and 30, St James Westminster Part 1 ed. by FHW Sheppard (London, 1960).

Private stocks and gallows – crime and punishment in the Manor

We have covered a little about how law and order was kept by the manorial system when we looked at customs in a previous blog, but what about crimes that broke laws, not just customs? The manorial court or court Leet met around twice a year and dealt with minor boundary issues and scuffles. Most manor courts, though not usually recording such punishments, seem to have kept stocks, pillories and tumbrels for punishing those guilty of smaller crimes. Stocks trapped the prisoner around the ankles, while a pillory held them around the neck and wrists. In both the prisoner would be further subjected to abuse and refuse thrown from the crowd. The tumbrel was a two-wheeled manure cart, which would be used to transport the prisoner and perhaps tip them into a pond – the practice often referred to as ‘ducking’. Tuggal Manor was fined 1 shilling 8 pence in 1683 for not keeping a pair of stocks. Presumably they would have been a common sight as you travelled around the country, and some towns like Berwick still have theirs on display.

From an engraving of Defoe in the pillory in the early eighteenth century, SANT/BEQ/15/4/40. Daniel Defoe was pitied for his charge of seditious libel, and the crowd threw flowers, a vast improvement on their usual weapons of choice.

However in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries a manorial court could, with royal permission, become a franchised law court dealing with more serious cases, and we have found evidence of a few of these as we have been researching the manor authority files. The whole picture of medieval law is too complex to delve into in a short blog post, but the various parts of the machine can be grouped into three types of legal administration: the central courts of law; different types of smaller courts held by itinerant commissioned justices as they progressed around the country; and permanent local franchise courts. The franchise of the legal responsibility for a particular area might be given by the crown to a hundred, borough, or the feudal courts of the Court Baron or manorial court. Some lords held the ancient right of ‘infangthief’ and ‘outfangthief’, where if they caught thieves from within or from outside the manor red-handed on their land, they could try and fine them. Those whose manor was franchised held royal permission to maintain a gallows and tumbril to execute anyone found guilty. This was possibly a hangover from the Anglo-

Read morePrivate stocks and gallows – crime and punishment in the Manor