Dorset Murders (6 page)

Fooks was committed for trial at the Spring Assizes at Dorchester before Mr Serjeant Shee. Mr Collier and Mr Prideaux prosecuted, while Mr Coleridge and Mr Stock handled Fooks's defence.

The crux of the defence was that Fooks was insane and at the time of the murder had been completely delusional, believing that Stone was constantly laughing and jeering at him and was also slandering him to other people in an attempt to discredit him.

Several Walditch villagers testified at the trial to the effect that Fooks was often heard threatening to shoot people, Stone in particular. He had apparently stated several times that shooting people meant no more to him than shooting a rook or a stray cat and, when asked if he knew what the consequences of shooting someone would be, had replied that perhaps he should shoot himself.

Martha Hallett, Fook's niece, had lived with her bachelor uncle for fifteen years, leaving his home the day before the murder because, she claimed, she had come to fear him. She told the court that for the past eight years Fooks had suffered from nervousness and unbearable pains in the head, which he had treated himself with repeated applications of vinegar. His bedroom was kept almost sealed, with blankets and carpets hung at the windows to prevent air entering, contrary to the advice of his doctor who believed that fresh air would be beneficial to him.

In the years that she had lived with her uncle, Martha had heard him threaten to kill himself numerous times. He was very fond of shooting and had been known to shoot out of his front door in the past. She had even heard him threaten to shoot Stone if he ever walked past the farmhouse.

Fooks had banned Martha from speaking to Daniel Stone and, although she had respected his request, he had still frequently accused her of secretly conversing with Stone. Another niece, Jane Fooks, stated that while her uncle was always kind to her, she had noticed him becoming more and more nervous over the last few months.

Villager Stephen Hawker had met Fooks shortly before the shooting and testified that Fooks had complained to him that he ‘barely knew what he was about' and was struggling to control his temper. Both of Fooks's nieces spoke of the ‘fits of passion' that Fooks flew into if anyone upset him and, at such times, he would wildly threaten to shoot anyone and everyone.

On the evidence of those who had known Fooks for many years, it certainly appeared as if a diagnosis of insanity would be an appropriate one. However, doctors who had seen him in prison since the murder seemed to disagree among themselves as to the extent of Fook's insanity.

Dr Harrington-Tuke, who saw Fooks in prison, had introduced himself to the accused as a ‘mind doctor' but stated that Fooks had not been particularly interested in him, paying more attention to the prison doctor who was in the room at the time. Fooks had received Harrington-Tuke as if he had just arrived for a pleasant morning visit. The doctor had said that Fooks looked well, to which he replied that he was far from well, having pains in his head and stomach.

The murder was freely discussed, with Fooks commenting to the doctor that he would never have believed he could have hurt anybody. Asked if Stone had ever done anything to hurt him, he had hesitated before replying, ‘No, not exactly.' He then went on to elaborate that his main grievance with Stone was that the man was always mocking him and scoffing at him and that he had spread reports intended to take away Fooks's character.

Asked by the doctor to name a specific incident, Fooks again struggled to recall one. Eventually, he remembered an occasion when an acre of his fields had been planted with docks, something he suspected Stone of having done. Asked if this was the reason why he had shot Stone, Fooks said that it wasn't and again stated that the reason for the shooting was that Stone was taking away his character.

‘Were you insane at the time?' asked the doctor.

‘Oh no, no sir, I'm not mad', replied Fooks, although he admitted to feeling ‘in a daze' just before he had fired the fatal shot.

It was Harrington-Tuke's opinion that Fooks was of unsound mind and that he possessed homicidal and suicidal tendencies that could surface at any time, but especially if he were under stress. The effects of these tendencies were to negate any self-control in the prisoner, thus making him not responsible for his actions.

When it was pointed out to Harrington-Tuke in court that Fooks had had access to weapons for many years but had never before attempted to kill anyone, the doctor tried to explain himself in simpler terms, stating that he did not believe that Fooks had homicidal mania, but an ordinary mania with occasional homicidal tendencies. When he raised the gun to shoot Stone, he was well aware that the gun could – and probably would – kill him, but was incapable of resisting the urge to fire.

Asked if he was, as a man of science, prepared to swear on oath that at the time Fooks raised the gun he didn't know that what he was doing was wrong, Harrington-Tuke baulked at going quite that far. Telling the court that he had the greatest difficulty in answering that question, all he was prepared to say was that Fooks now knew that what he had done was wrong but at the time of the murder was acting on an uncontrollable impulse.

The final witnesses to appear were Dr Good, the prison surgeon, and his deputy, Mr Kyme. Good testified that he had seen and spoken to Fooks almost every day of his incarceration. He had seen no indications whatsoever to make him suspect that Fooks was insane. He was not incoherent, was not suffering from delusions and appeared perfectly rational at all times.

Mr Kyme gave exactly the same evidence, adding that the prisoner was always quiet and never appeared excited in any way. He was attended at all times by two warders, but only because he had attempted suicide before being admitted to prison. Since his imprisonment, he had shown neither homicidal nor suicidal tendencies.

Both Good and Kyme stated in court that they had not expected the defence to be one of insanity and had therefore not made any particular study of the prisoner's mind, nor sought any expert opinions, basing their testimony on common sense and previous practice rather than on reading. They were convinced that Fooks was completely sane, both now and at the time of the murder.

Perhaps surprisingly, the jury chose to believe the two prison surgeons over all the other trial witnesses and returned a verdict of ‘Guilty'. Charles Fooks, aged forty-nine, was hanged at Dorchester on 27 March 1863.

Today, with our advanced medical knowledge, it seems reasonable to suggest that Fooks may have been suffering from schizophrenia, since he appears to have displayed many of the characteristic symptoms including paranoia, delusions, depression, confusion, suicidal tendencies, poor concentration and mood swings. He was, as suggested by his defence counsel, just as much or more the object of pity as Stone and was entitled, at the hands of the jury, to ‘that protection which the law of England gave and was bound to give to persons whom it had pleased God to visit with the calamity of insanity'.

[Note: The name Fooks is alternatively spelled Fookes in some contemporary accounts of the murder.]

L
ife had not been kind to Edwin Alfred Preedy. An illegitimate baby, he had moved to London from Warwickshire while still an infant with his mother, Ann, and his aunt, Mary Smith. At four years old he fell downstairs, crashing heavily from top to bottom and colliding head first with a heavy wooden stool. His concerned mother and aunt rushed to see if he was all right, finding him lying unconscious, with blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

Edwin's aunt wanted to call a doctor but his mother pointed out that doctors cost money and they had none. Little Edwin was carried gently back upstairs to his bed, where he was devotedly nursed back to health by his mother and aunt. He was ill for a long time and, even after he had recovered, was never the same cheerful little boy that he had been before the fall. He was nervous and edgy during the day, but his real problems started at nightfall, when he was terrified of being left alone in the dark.

Such was his terror that his mother felt she had no option but to allow the little boy to sleep with her. This arrangement continued until Edwin's mother met and married Bill Edwards. A printer by trade, Edwards was a steady man of good character, but he had one blind spot – Edwin. Edwards complained that Ann was making the boy soft and refused to allow her to comfort Edwin at night. Bill Edwards had his own way of dealing with his stepson's problems and determined to beat the boy's fears out of him, not just with spankings, but by thrashing him over and over again with a heavy cane topped with a metal knob.

Edwin was humiliated at school, being teased cruelly by the other children about his ‘difference'. In the evenings all he had to look forward to were long, dark, terrifying nights and savage beatings. Bill Edwards was not afraid to vent his wrath on Edwin's mother if she tried to intervene, so the poor woman felt she had no choice but to stand by and watch her son being brutalised. When Edwin's aunt saw wounds on his head and threatened to have a word with ‘that brute' Bill Edwards, the new Mrs Edwards was petrified and begged her not to interfere, saying that she would be beaten if anything were said.

Edwin eventually reached the end of his tether at the age of thirteen and ran away from home. For a while he lived rough with a group of other homeless boys, until he was picked up one night and taken to St Giles Workhouse in the West End of London.

When he arrived at the workhouse, Preedy fought desperately to escape, kicking, screaming, biting, foaming at the mouth and growling like an animal. The workhouse doctor diagnosed typhus fever and Edwin was nursed until he recovered. So wild was the boy that, for the most part of his stay, he was tied to his bed, only being released to eat and be washed.

As he recovered, Edwin gradually calmed down until, by the time his physical illness was cured, he was transformed from a raging maniac to a pleasant and likeable boy. The workhouse had managed to establish his identity and, once he was fully fit, released him back into the care of his mother and stepfather. Now too old for school, Edwin was given a job with Bill Edwards and began to learn the printer's trade. However, now he was with the boy all day, Edwards grew ever more vicious and sadistic in his treatment of him. Edwin Preedy seemed to develop a dual personality – normally a charming and engaging young man, when beaten or abused he turned into a raging animal, behaving like a madman.

He soon tired of Edwards's cruelty towards him and ran away from home again, this time forsaking London altogether for the Warwickshire countryside of his birth. Part of his motive for heading to Warwickshire was a desire to find his real father, but, before he had much of a chance to start looking, he was arrested on a charge of larceny and served an eight-month prison sentence in Warwick Castle.

On his release from prison, Preedy signed up for the Army, serving with the 85th Regiment of Foot. He was quickly promoted to Corporal and then promptly deserted. Turning to crime as the only real way to support himself, Preedy was soon arrested and sentenced to serve ten weeks in Carmarthen Prison. There it was discovered that he was a deserter and, understandably, the Army wanted him back so that they could punish him for his crime.

When given this news by the prison governor, Preedy instantly erupted into a maelstrom of violence. ‘I'll swing for you bastards rather than go back in the Army!' he screamed. Wildly swinging his prison issue wooden clogs he began to belabour the warders who had escorted him to the governor's office. He overturned the governor's desk onto the legs of two warders he had knocked to the floor and, as more and more warders came rushing from other parts of the prison, he kept them at bay by clubbing them with chairs.