Farm Labourers Fatal Fight

A Saturday drinking session by colleagues ended in tragedy when one died following a fight between two of them, with the killer being sentenced to just six months in gaol.

On the evening of Saturday 11th October 1873 a group of Irish farm labourers were drinking at the Hightown Hotel (photo by Adam Bruderer) when a dispute arose and two of them started fighting. The two men, 24 year old Michael Cruse and 35 year old Martin Brennan were ordered out by landlady Emma Thomas but agreed to continue their fight at a nearby farmyard.

One of the group tried to stop the fight but was unable to do so and ran for help, but on hearing a scream he turned back and saw his Martin on the floor and bleeding from the head. Martin was taken a considerable distance to Rose Vale in Everton where his brother James resided.  He was suffering from pains in the chest and head, saying that Cruse had kicked him whilst he lay on the ground.

Dr Cormack from the East Dispensary attended and was of the opinion that Martin's condition was critical and it was too dangerous to move him. The following day he entered an insensible state and remained that way until the Thursday when he died. Cruse was picked up that day in Woolton and told the arresting officer 'I was standing in my own defence. It was a bad job, we were fighting and I knocked him down and kicked him.

A post mortem revealed that Martin had a dislocated eyeball, broken nose and skull fractures. The cause of death was inflammation of the brain and the injuries were too severe to have been caused by a fall. At the inquest Dr Cormack described his chances as 'hopeless from the first.' A verdict of manslaughter was returned and Cruse, who had once lived next door to Martin in Ireland, was committed to the assizes for trial.

At the Liverpool Assizes on 12th December Mrs Thomas gave evidence but was unable to say who had struck the first blow. Cruise was found guilty, but was sentenced to just six months imprisonment with hard labour by Justice Quain.

Killing of a Dragoon

A night out in Liverpool by two soldiers turned into tragedy when one of them was killed by a punch thrown at him outside a pub.

On 21st August 1873 Edward Burn, a private with the 7th Dragoon Guards stationed in Everton barracks, went into Liverpool with a corporal from the same regiment. They were drinking in the Ring O' Bells pub in Peters Lane, where a Dr Patterson was visiting a patient. The soldiers asked Patterson the way to Williamson Square and he offered to show them.

When they got there the two soldiers went into the Rainbow pub but were refused drink even though they were more merry than intoxicated. On coming outside they then got into a row with a local 25 year old fish dealer named William Wilson, who punched Burn, knocking him clean out and his fall was broken by his comrade.

Burn was put into a cab and taken back to the barracks and checked over by a medic. Then on the 23rd he entered a state of delirium and an examination found that he had bruising behind the ear and blood seeping from it. He lingered until the 30th November when he died, a post mortem concluding that it was from effusion of the brain, caused by the blow.

Wilson had been apprehended soon after Burn went into his delirious state and told the police he had ejected the two soldiers from the Rainbow at the request of the landlord, then was assaulted by one of them outside. When he was tried for manslaughter on 13th December, Dr Patterson was a key witness, stating that Burn had not struck Wilson. He also described the punch thrown as 'a scientific prize fighting blow, given straight from the shoulder.' 

After the jury found Wilson guilty of manslaughter he was sentenced by Justice Quain to a term of eighteen months imprisonment.

Killing of an Unknown Seaman

In 1873 a man was convicted of manslaughter after causing the death of a seaman whose identity was never established.

On the 23rd November that year the schooner Emma was lying in Garston Docks when William Sargent, a 32 year old ship's mate, got into a row with a fellow crew member over a flannel shirt. The other seaman, an Irishman who had joined that day and whose name wasn't even known, struck a blow on Sargent and mentioned that he had a knife.

Sargent, who was scrubbing the deck at the time, then hit back with his brush and inflicted a wound over the right eye. This was not thought to be serious and was dressed by a chemist, with the man then going to bed but he died in the night. 

The following month Sargent found himself up before Justice Quain at the Liverpool assizes, charged with manslaughter. Witnesses agreed in cross examination that the deceased was drunk at the time and had said on shore that it was his fault he was attacked. However in summing up the judge said that there was no evidence a knife was produced and Sargent had time to escape the situation.

After the jury returned a guilty verdict, his defence counsel passed a reference from Sargent's officer at the Royal Navy reserve, saying he had been a member since 1867 and always attentive at drill. Justice Quain then said that due to the previous good character and the rashness of the act which he acknowledged did not intend to cause serious harm, he would be lenient. He then sentenced Sargent to three months hard labour.

Son Hanged For Murder of Mother

Thomas Corrigan murdered his mother in 1873 following a drinking spree and paid for his crime with his life. 

  

For the previous two years 23 year old Corrigan, a dock porter, had been seeing a lady called Martha Knight, with whom he had already had two children. When Corrigan began taking her back to his parents' property in Chisenhale Street, Vauxhall, his mother Mary remonstrated with him, leading to the tragic killing.

On the afternoon of 1st November, Corrigan went to bed with Martha before coming downstairs at 6.30pm and demanding his supper from Mary, who told him it was in the oven. When Corrigan opened the oven door and saw nothing was there he punched her to the floor before kicking, stamping and jumping on her, acts that were witnessed by two lodgers, James Harris and James Canavan. 

Harris tried to intervene, meaning that Mary managed to crawl to the apparent safety of her lodger's room, but Corrigan followed her and threw her down the stairs before taking off his belt and beating her about the head with the buckle. He then jumped on her again before holding a knife to her throat, but Harris's wife managed to dissuade him from stabbing her. Corrigan was in a complete rage and had locked the front door to prevent anybody escaping and raising the alarm, and was also able to terrorise others in the house into remaining totally still as he carried on his attack.

Despite Mary's screams no neighbours contacted police, probably because such sounds were commonplace in the vicinity, especially of a Saturday evening. When Corrigan had finally finished the assault Mary was placed in bed and a priest sent for, who was told by him that she had fallen down the stairs. The priest, Father Ross, didn't believe Corrigan's story and on leaving the property went to the Chisenhale Street bridewell, telling the desk sergeant of his suspicions. 

Police Constable McDowell was dispatched the the property and met Corrigan in the street, who told him that Mary had died suddenly. McDowell immediately arrested Corrigan and sent for Inspector McAuley from the Dale Street bridewell, who found a frightful sight on arrival at 30 Chisenhale Street. Mary's face was mashed to a pulp, her eyeball was ruptured, hair was all over the floor and ribs were broken. Corrigan was charged with murder and replied 'No sir you are wrong, who can prove that? I only came to the officer to get a doctor.' The following day, thousands of people came to Chisenhale Street to look at the house where the atrocity had occurred. 

At his trial, Corrigan's defence was that he was in a 'fit of horrors' due to alcohol and as such should only be found guilty of manslaughter. This didn't cut any ice with the jury and when he was sentenced to death by Justice Quain he was told that his mother was somebody he was 'bound to love and cherish' and that the crime had 'disclosed such a state of brutality so shocking that I have never heard anything like it before.' Quain told him to expect no mercy and sentenced him to death. Whilst awaiting execution at Kirkdale he was attended to by Father Bonte, whilst his own father forgave him for the crime and requested the prison take a photograph of his son so he could have a keepsake. Corrigan was hanged on 5th January 1874.

Music Hall Murderer Hanged Twice

In 1873 a Good Samaritan came to the aid of a woman who was being attacked but was stabbed to death. His killer then had to be hanged twice when the rope snapped at the first attempt.

On Monday 11th August 1873 Mary Shears, the wife of a ship's steward, attended the Cambridge Music Hall in Mill Street, Toxteth, where she was spotted by James Connor who asked her to join him for a  drink. When she refused he followed her out of the hall and accused her of stealing money before punching her twice and causing her to fall to the floor.

The incident was witnessed by a man named James Gaffney and he and a friend crossed the road to assist. Gaffney asked why Connor had done what he did, leading to Connor taking a knife from his pocket and stabbing Gaffney in the neck. He then stabbed Gaffney's friend Metcalf but the knife failed to penetrate his clothing.


Connor calmly walked away but two other passers by managed to apprehend him and hand him over to police. Gaffney was taken to the Southern Hospital where he died the following morning, the knife having penetrated the spine.

The trial took place just a week later, with the jury debating for a considerable time over whether Connor should be found guilty of murder or manslaughter. After querying the aspect of provocation Justice Brett directed that a manslaughter verdict could only be returned if the jury could be satisfied that Gaffney had touched Connor. If they believed Gaffney had only threatened to touch him, then a murder verdict had to be returned. After initially telling the judge they could not reach a verdict he refused to discharge them, leading to a further hour of deliberations after which Connor was found guilty of murder.

Connor had shown a total indifference during his trial and scowled 'you make me laugh' as Justice Brett passed the death sentence. Connor was a local prizefighter who spent most of his days drinking, but life could have been so different. Born in Ireland and raised in London, he arrived in Liverpool via Birmingham and Sheffield, working as a boilermaker where wages were lucrative, sometimes as much as £1 a day. The Liverpool Mercury described the family who had attended the trial as 'most respectable people', but although he found work when he first arrived in Liverpool he soon got in with the wrong crowd and began to spend his days drinking, making money from boxing and wrestling instead.

The execution was fixed for 8th September at Kirkdale Gaol, with Calcraft, who it was believed had retired, turning up late the night before. Connor walked calmly to the scaffold, even helping with those pinioning him and smiling as the white cap was placed over his head. Then after the lever was pulled the rope snapped and he fell to the floor. Connor was helped back up, blood visible from the rope marks on his neck but eight minutes later they were ready to try again. This time the rope didn't snap but Connor didn't die easily, writhing around for several seconds after he had dropped.

Calcraft, who was 73 years old, could not account for the rope snapping but the prison authorities believed he had miscalculated Connor's weight. He was not used by Kirkdale Gaol again.