Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in London's West End Read online

  Yours faithfully,

  Richard A. Prince

  As time went by Princes appeals to the Committee of the Actors’ Benevolent Fund showed his increasing decline:

  Dear Sir,

  I shall not get an engagement in London now. You might ask the gentlemen of the committee if they would kindly lend me a pound to take me home. The ship goes today. After they have been so kind, they might do this if you will ask. Thanking you for your kindness,

  Yours faithfully

  R. ARCHER PRINCE

  In all the Committee of the Actors’ Benevolent Fund made him four payments, of £1, £1, 10/- and 10/-.

  On 13December Prince went to the Vaudeville Theatre, which was under the same management as the Adelphi, presented his card and demanded a complimentary ticket. When he was refused he became extremely abusive and threatening and had to be physically ejected from the building.

  On the morning of 16 December, Prince left his lodgings, after being refused hot water by Mrs Derby. He was behind with his rent and she had had enough. He paid a final visit to the Actors’ Benevolent Fund, but was told that his application for assistance had been rejected. He asked who had chaired the meeting and was told Mr Terry (Fred Terry – the actor and light comedian. Perhaps Prince mistook this for Terriss). It has been suggested that Prince murdered Terriss by mistake and his intended victim was in fact Fred Terry, and this story was widely circulated. Although Prince did write to Fred Terry and to his wife Julia Neilson, after they had turned down a play he had written. Fred Terry received the following letter from Prince:

  Sir,

  Please return play Countess Otho at once. If you are hard up for the money will send it. Terriss, the Pope, Scotland Yard. I will answer in a week.

  And Terry’s wife received the following:

  Madam,

  I thank you as a Highlander and a gentleman, in the name of the Almighty God, our Queen, and my rights for play Countess Otho.

  Shortly after Prince had made that final visit to the Actors’ Benevolent Fund he went to see the agent C St John Denton, in Maiden Lane, seeking work. His visit proved fruitless. He walked into the Strand and by an unlucky chance, came face to face with his sister, Maggie. He asked her for money but after several years of such requests, and an increasing amount more recently, she replied ‘I would rather see you dead in the gutter than give you a farthing. ’This final rejection was too much for him. He walked back to Maiden Lane and positioned himself opposite the private entrance.

  During this period Terriss had every reason to be pleased with himself. His company was to appear in a Command Performance on Christmas Eve, before the Queen, at Windsor Castle. The word was out, he was to be knighted. On 16 December Terriss was discussing moving from his West London home Bedford Park, in Turnham Green to a larger house in Maida Vale, with John Graves. They played poker with Fred Terry at the Green Room Club and afterwards went to Jessie Millward’s flat in Prince’s Street, Hanover Square. She provided them with a light meal and left them playing chess. Miss Millward recalled:

  When seven o’clock came I rose: “I must go down to the theatre, ”I said. “I hate being rushed,” and left them finishing their game of chess. I drove up in my hansom to the pass door in Maiden lane, which opened near my dressing-room. At the pass door I saw standing the man Prince, whom I recognized as a former super. Only a night or two previously I had heard a man speaking in a loud voice in Mr Terriss’s dressing-room, and as I came out of my room I met him in the passage with Prince. I had asked him: “What is the matter?” “This man is becoming a nuisance,” he had told me, and I had guessed it was a case of begging. Just as I reached the pass door Prince came towards me, and I half thought of giving him some money so that he should not delay Mr Terriss when he arrived, but as he came towards me there was something in the man’s face that frightened me, and instead of waiting to open the pass door I rushed to the stage door, and on entering my dressing-room I told my maid, Lottie, of my encounter with Prince.

  The original stage door of the Adelphi Theatre in Bull Inn Court. The author

  Terriss and his companion were dropped off at the end of Maiden Lane and walked the short distance to the private entrance. It was a little after seven o’clock. Terriss took the key from his pocket and, as he was bending to put the key in the lock, a figure emerged from across the narrow lane and hurriedly stabbed him twice in the upper back. These wounds were superficial. Indeed, Terriss’s companion (John Henry Graves [Terriss’s godfather, architect and lifelong friend]), took the blows to be in friendship. Terriss turned to confront his assailant and, in doing so received a third blow to the chest, which pierced his heart. Then, Terriss cried out ‘My God! I am stabbed.’ Graves, realising what had happened, took hold of Prince and held him until a constable arrived. Prince offered no resistance. Several passers by called out ‘Murder!’ and ‘Police!’. The cries were heard by Police Constable Bragg. He was quickly on the scene and took Prince into custody on Graves’ accusation. Sometime later Graves followed them to Bow Street, where he gave his evidence to Inspector French.

  On hearing the commotion outside, and seeing something was amiss, Jessie Millward sped down the staircase. She found Terriss leaning against the wall, just inside the private entrance. Some years later in her autobiography, she described the scene:

  The rear of the Adelphi Theatre, August 2005. The door on the right was the Royal Entrance, where members of the Royal family could gain access to their box without attracting attention, if they so wished. The present-day stage door is next to it and the ‘Private Entrance’ to the left, just before the sliding shutter of the scene dock. The author

  The ‘Private Entrance’ of the Adelphi Theatre in Maiden Lane, where William Terriss was fatally stabbed. The plaque, unveiled by Sir Donald Sinden, exactly a hundred years after the murder, reads:

  WILLIAM TERRISS

  1847 – 1897

  HERO OF THE ADELPHI

  MELODRAMAS

  MET HIS UNTIMELY END

  OUTSIDE THIS THEATRE

  16 DEC 1897

  The author

  “Sis”, he said faintly “Sis, I am stabbed.” I put my arms round him to support him, when we both fell to the ground on the bare boards at the foot of the staircase leading to our dressing-rooms.

  Medical help was quick to arrive, having been summoned from nearby Charing Cross Hospital. The Senior House Surgeon, a Mr Hayward, realised very quickly that the third blow was fatal, nothing could be done to save Terriss. He was too ill to be moved to his dressing-room. The end came a few moments before eight o’clock. Jessie Millward described his last moments:

  He was lying on my right arm, and I held his hand in my left hand. We were now alone. He opened his eyes, and faintly squeezed my hand. “Sis! Sis!” He whispered. And that was all.

  Terriss’s son-in-law, Seymour Hicks was, at the time the stabbing took place, walking along Henrietta Street, which runs parallel to Maiden Lane, on his way to the Gaiety Theatre, where he was appearing in The Circus Girl. Being totally unaware of what had happened, he arrived at the theatre and made up for his part. On coming down to the stage, he was surprised to find his understudy dressed ready to go on in his place. The stage manager told him it would be impossible for him to appear as something terrible had happened.

  Hicks recalled:

  The first thought which flashed across my mind was that the news was of my wife, who at that time was lying very ill at Eastbourne, only just out of danger, and grief-stricken at the loss of our little baby boy, which had occurred a fortnight previously. I stood staring and speechless, waiting for the blow to fall which I knew would kill me. Seeing, I suppose, the terror in my eyes, for a minute no one spoke, and when at last I was able to summon up enough courage to say, “Well, tell me,” I heard a voice through the noisy chorus of a comic song whisper, “Old man, Bill Terriss has been killed.”

  Hicks although profoundly shocked at the news and despite its gravity felt a sense of relie
f, that his beloved wife Ellaline was not the object of the evening’s tragic events. He commented:

  It may seem strange, but having lived a lifetime of agony in a terrible minute, so great was the relief to know that the one I loved most on earth was safe, that the only emotion I felt was one of great thankfulness, and though I trembled, no one about me guessed the real reason why.

  Being the only relative close at hand that evening, he was firstly called upon to identify Prince. He could not recall ever having seen him before. Hicks described the scene:

  I found myself in a small room facing a raving lunatic being held against the wall by two policemen. Had he been sane, so distraught was I, my first impulse would have been to have taken his life, and this I am bound to say was in my mind as I hurried to the station, knowing, as I did, nothing of the circumstances. When however, I was within a few feet of a savage animal, for Prince, foaming at the mouth, looked little else, I became calm amidst the turmoil and commenced to think of all that was going on in a curiously detached way.

  After visiting Bow Street Police Station, Hicks was taken to the Adelphi Theatre. Terriss’s body had been carried up to his dressing-room. Fred Latham, the acting manager of the theatre accompanied Hicks to the dead actor’s dressing-room. He left Hicks alone with his father-in-law’s body. Hicks said he felt a great terror as the door was slowly opened:

  Ellaline Terriss. Author’s collection

  Left alone, however, with all that was mortal of the man I had been so fond of, fear left me, for, as I knelt by the couch on which he lay, the calm on his face and the smile upon his lips seemed to bid me take a message to his loved ones not to grieve, for he was happy. In the serenity and quiet of that room I to this day feel sure I heard a voice say to me, “Are there men living such fools as to think there is no hereafter?” That night I knew beyond all shadow of doubt that William Terriss and myself would meet again.

  The original stage door of the Adelphi Theatre in Bull Inn Court. The author

  Hick’s dresser was sent to Terriss’s house in Bedford Park, where Terriss’s twenty-five-year-old actor son, Tom, had returned from rehearsals. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the son of his father’s death but brought him back to the Adelphi, where the news was broken to him.

  The funeral took place five days later at Brompton Cemetery, being preceded by a service at the Chapel Royal of the Savoy. Terriss was laid to rest on the East Terrace, sharing a vault with his mother and his baby grandson who had been buried there two weeks previously. Terriss’s wife did not attend the funeral. This was not unusual, as at that time close female relatives often did not attend funerals, which were essentially male occasions. Jessie Millward went in a carriage with Seymour Hicks and Sir Henry Irving. The official list of mourners included only two other women. The Times reported that some 50,000 people lined the streets to watch the funeral procession and pay their respects to their lost favourite of the London stage. Even the cemetery was crowded with people. The list of the great and the good, who sent flowers, was headed by the Prince of Wales. Eva Moore recalled in Exits And Entrances:

  The murder scene. The Illustrated Police News

  … his funeral was a proof of the affection in which he was held – it was practically a “Royal” funeral. When, a few months ago, Marie Lloyd was buried, the crowds, the marks of affection, the very real and very deep regret shown everywhere, reminded me of another funeral – that of “Breezy Bill Terriss”.

  Seymour Hicks wrote:

  “Mr. A,” the fellow-player who had been the indirect cause of his death, must, to do him justice, have suffered remorse beyond words, for James Beveridge and Charles Somerset, two of William Terriss’s oldest comrades, years afterwards informed me of the terrible interview they had with him the day after the funeral, for when telling him that they lay their friend’s death at his door he completely and utterly broke down.

  Nothing was mentioned to the police about the affair and Abingdon was not called to give evidence at the trial. However, Prince’s sister Maggie conveniently disappeared, sometime between the murder and the trial.

  The inquest took place on the afternoon of Monday 20 December, at St Martin’s Town Hall, before Mr John Troutbeck, coroner for Westminster. It was brief, as there was no doubt how Terriss had died and who had killed him. Witnesses having given their evidence and the coroner having summed up, the jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against Prince. The press had had a field day with such a sensational murder to write about. On Christmas Day, a more sober report was given in The Illustrated Police News:

  For a very large section of the British public the gaiety of Christmastide has this year been sadly abated by the terrible end of the popular actor, Mr William Terriss, the hero of a hundred stage fights, who was stabbed to death on Thursday evening in last week outside the Adelphi Theatre.

  The report goes on to describe the events of the evening and then goes on to say:

  The tidings spread over London and thence throughout the kingdom like wild-fire, received everywhere first with incredulity and thence with indignant sorrow. To few even of fortune’s favourites in the theatrical profession does it fall to be so closely in touch with the great heart of the playgoing public as the leading representative of British heroism had long been, and the dastardly nature of the crime, committed out of an unreasoning jealousy by a good-for-nothing, who had in the past received much kindness at his victim’s hand, stirred the deep indignation even of those to whom the dead player’s personality meant nothing.

  The Illustrated London News also reported:

  The Prisoner in the dock at Bow Street. The Illustrated Police News

  In private life Mr. Terriss was as much beloved as by his friends of the playgoing public. Until the sudden outbreak of homicidal fury on the part of the man who now awaits trial for his dastardly act, it would have taxed the dead actor’s friends to name the man who was his enemy. Sincere and generous, he led a simple, unaffected life, which in itself commanded respect, and was, in brief, one of whom –

  … Nature might stand up

  And say to all the world, “This was a man!”

  Mr. Terriss leaves a widow, two sons, and a daughter. One of the sons has given some promise as an actor, and the daughter Miss Ellaline Terriss (Mrs. Seymour Hicks) is already known to fame as a comedienne of exceptional charm.

  In those days justice was far swifter than today. The trial took place on 13 January 1898, less than a month after the murder and lasted one day. It was an extremely disturbing affair. Prince was tried at the Old Bailey before Mr Justice Channell. The prosecutor was Mr C F Gill, assisted by Mr Horace Avory. Richard Archer Prince, swathed in an Inverness cape was represented by Mr W H Sands. On 22 January 1898, The Illustrated Police News reported:

  Immediately the prisoner took his seat at half-past ten he was called. He entered the box with the same air of self-importance that he assumed before the magistrate, and on the charge being read to him and the question of guilty or not guilty asked, he answered in a clear voice, “Guilty with provocation.” Addressing the judge, he then claimed by the law of England the right to be defended by a Queen’s counsel. “I have no friends of my own, and cannot pay a penny for my defence. If he must be paid, those who drove me to it should pay. ”The judge pointed out that this was not the law of the land, and advised him to be advised by his counsel. Prince, after again exclaiming that he was guilty with the greatest provocation, ultimately took the advice of the judge and exclaimed, “I must say, then, not guilty.”

  John Henry Graves gave details of the actual killing. Three medical experts from Holloway, the Doctors Bastian, Hyslop and Scott, gave their opinions on Prince’s mental state. Another medical expert, Doctor Fitch, superintendent of a lunatic asylum in Salisbury, explained the circumstances surrounding the death of James Archer, Prince’s half-brother, which served to highlight the mental instability believed to have been inherent in that family. Prince’s step-sister, Maggie was absent from the
trial. Referred to as ‘Mrs Archer’, she was represented by a servant, Mary Waller. She testified that she

  had heard that he was Mrs Archer’s step-brother. He confirmed that he had visited the house five or six times in November and December, but not for a fortnight or so before the murder.

  Other witnesses gave evidence concerning his theatrical and working background, and several family members, including his mother, brother and niece, as well as neighbours from Dundee, gave testimony to his strangeness. George Lauberg, who had sold Prince the knife with which he stabbed Terriss, was also a witness. The Illustrated Police News reported that the prisoner’s mother in her evidence said:

  … her son was always peculiar, and when a child suffered from sunstroke. He often, when he grew up, complained of people blackmailing, and once said he was the Lord Jesus Christ and that she was the Virgin Mary. When he had his turns he would sing, be violent, write plays, and his eyes would stare out of his head. He said she poisoned his food.

  The same publication also reported:

  Harry Archer said [the] prisoner, his brother, several times attacked him, and once used a knife and a poker. Witness went for the police at the time, but they took no steps because the prisoner had cooled down.

  All the evidence having been presented, Mr Justice Channell gave his summing up. The Times reported:

  Having referred to the evidence and to the testimony of the medical experts, who had expressed the unanimous and undoubted opinion that the prisoner was insane, the learned Judge concluded by observing that the questions were, first, whether the jury were satisfied that the prisoner committed the act and, secondly, whether it had been made to appear to them that, at the time he committed it, he was not responsible, according to law, by reason of disease of the mind.