Southend Standard, January 17th 1899
The following is an abbreviated version of the report published in the local newspaper following the inquest into my great grandmother's death.
SAD DOMESTIC TRAGEDY AT SOUTHEND
A HEARTBROKEN WIFE ENDS HER LIFE “FOR HIS SAFE”
STRANGE AND PATHETIC LETTERS
THE HUSBAND “MORALLY GUILTY OF CAUSING HIS WIFE’S DEATH”
It appears that for some little time past a newly married couple named Elsegood, with a baby, have lived in rooms at 67 Milton Street, Porters Town. The landlady, Mrs King, did not notice any disagreement between the couple until Thursday last, when she retired to rest and listened in bed to high words between man and wife. The row continued fitfully all through Friday, until the woman left the house with her child. She returned on Saturday morning, but another scene occurred in the afternoon, and after tea the husband was seen by the landlady to take his box out of the house with the help of his brother, but not before he had taken his presents from her; left her without food for Sunday, without money, and without goods; his parting words being that she was have to go to service, as he intended to be free in future. Mrs King went on: at half past eight, and on her return, Mrs Elsegood had gone. An hour afterwards her mutilated body was discovered near Hastings Road Crossing.
Tom Elsegood, said deceased was his wife and 22 years of age. She was married to him on November 5th 1898. Witness last saw her alive at ten minutes to six on Saturday evening in his house. He had no conversation with her before he left and there had been no disagreement between them.
Witness added that he came home between ten and eleven and missed his wife. In the bedroom he found two notes and her wedding ring.
One of the letters ran: “My dear husband - These are the last lines I ever shall write to you. I am very sorry that I ever left you. I know that it did not seem nice to come after you, but when I found you had gone I got so wild I scarcely knew what I did. I should have forgiven you yesterday morning had you been in a little better temper than you was. Now, you see you have got back your freedom. I hope and trust; please God, you will have a better wife than a ‘penny prize packet’”. At this the husband burst out crying. The coroner passed the notes to the jury so they could read them.
Tom Elsegood denied at length that he had ill-treated his wife or denied her money or food.
Was your wife an excitable woman? - Not excitable, but she took to heart a lot about her father’s death. She always said every night, before she went to bed, that she always believed her stepmother poisoned her father. She always took it to heart about that.
The Coroner: Who is Fred? - The child. It was her child, and not mine. It was born two years before we were married. I knew about the child. She came to my work the day after I first took her out and she gave me a letter that explained everything. She told me to burn it.
The Foreman: Who was the child’s father? - Frederick Allen, painter, of Southchurch Road.
Mrs King, the landlady gave evidence that she had seen Mrs Elsegood in a very distressed state on the three days prior to her death. She told the jury that Mrs Elsegood had told her the reason for this; that her husband had gone to the theatre on Thursday night despite the fact she had not wanted him to, and that they had quarrelled for three days since, culminating in his departure.
P.S. Theobald said he went to the Hastings Road Crossing on Saturday night and with the assistance of P.C. Hoy removed the body to the mortuary. In the dress pocket there was a purse containing three halfpence, a small brooch, and a bill. Next morning, underneath the Brewery Road arch, he found a hat and inside it a letter addressed to Mrs Goodeve, North Road, deceased’s sister. In the letter was a keeper ring. The appearances of the line showed that the body had been dragged for 230 yards.
At the request of the Foreman, the Coroner read as much as he could decipher of the letter left under the railway bridge.
My dearest sisters and brothers - From my very heart I am writing this letter. I am very sorry to do what I have done. I only hope and trust, please God, that I may be forgiven. I am trying to join my mother in Heaven if I can do so, but, of course, I shall be dead, so I cannot tell you. I only ask you to remember me in your prayers. Dear Lizzie, you must not grieve for me. It is the love that I have for my husband that I am doing it. Then he can have his freedom back as much as he likes, and I hope he will get something better than a “penny prize packet”, which is what he told me I was, and nothing else, but it is my wish to have Tom’s photo in my coffin with me, and also the buttonhole that he wore at his wedding. You will find them in the hat box with my hat and things. I want you to burn my wedding dress and also the white hat that I was married in, but you can have everything else that belongs to me. Mrs King will tell you which are mine and which are hers. There is only cups and saucers that belong to me; the inkpot and plates are mine. Alice may have the ring that I left in the letter as a little memento. Tell her she is doing a very wise thing not to get married. Dear Lizzie, you must give Hattie something.
Directions followed to burn her marriage lines and break a cheese dish after her death. The letter went on:
There is more I wish to say. If Fred lives, try to keep him in ignorance of his mother’s death. I hope he will not live long after me. I have not got any life left in me. He has completely broken my heart. I never thought I should have to end my life like this, but I shall be at rest, thank God. I could not go out and face the world any more. It has taken the life out of me. The only thing I hope and pray of God is that He may receive my soul so I shall be at rest.
I HAVE READ MY PRAYER BOOK:
I HAVE READ THE 55TH PSALM
I SANG THE ROCK OF AGES
KISSED THE BABY AND BID HIM GOODBYE
I would like one last kiss from Tom though I would not ask him for it. He has not kissed me since Thursday morning. Little did I know that was the last I gave him. I gave him my wedding ring back. He has taken it, and I could not give him more. I have kept my - for him till the last and may God forgive him for what he has drove me to do. Dear Lizzie, will you tell Mrs King I am sorry to leave the place, as it was very clean for me to come into but perhaps his sister will be so kind as to go and scrub it for me so Mrs King can have it clean again as I have not got the heart to do it. This marriage, instead of bringing happiness to me, has brought misery, but if I have to suffer in the next world it will be for his sake and for his happiness. You must not fret for me, but keep it away from the children, if you can. There is no more I can tell you. I thank you for what you have done for me, and also Dick. I don’t know if Alf will take Fred back, but I have left him at Mrs King’s. I must say goodbye for the last time. I remain your affectionate brokenhearted sister, Annie Elsegood. I hope my soul will be forgiven, so pray for me.
Lizzie Goodeve, the deceased’s eldest sister, testified that Mrs Elsegood had spent the night with her on Friday. She had been in a “fainting state” and had been unable to talk for at least an hour. They had been forced to give her some port wine for her condition. Mrs Goodeve disagreed with Mr Elsegood’s assertion that he had never had a cross word with his wife. She told the jury that he treated her very cruelly and that she was always hungry.
The coroner surmised that Elsegood’s evidence seemed at odds with that of the other witnesses and that he was probably guilty of perjury, but that the outcome of the enquiry would probably serve as sufficient punishment.
Elsegood was put up and the Coroner addressing him said: You have heard the verdict the jury have returned, and you have probably heard their opinion of you, and that opinion I heartily endorse, for I think a more heartless way, a more unmanly way to have treated a woman could not possibly have been found than that in which you treated her. You may not have struck her, but by your conduct towards her you were the means of driving her to commit this act. It is a terrible thing, and I think it will be a terrible punishment to you to the end of your days. I quite agree with every word the jury has said. You were the person who drove her to do it and you are morally guilty for the cause of her death. (Applause.)
The man commenced to cry but was quickly removed and the enquiry closed.
Fred did live. Alf, Annie's brother, did take him, and brought him up as his own. As was Annie's wish, he was never told the circumstances of his mother's death. Fred was my great grandfather.
Tom Elsegood married again three years later.
Alice failed to heed Annie's advice and married an American.
Annie's stepmother did not poison her father. He was a painter and decorator, and poisonous lead was an ingredient of paint at that time. This is what killed him.
67 Milton Street is now a car park.
I have no idea what the significance of the cheese dish was.
SAD DOMESTIC TRAGEDY AT SOUTHEND
A HEARTBROKEN WIFE ENDS HER LIFE “FOR HIS SAFE”
STRANGE AND PATHETIC LETTERS
THE HUSBAND “MORALLY GUILTY OF CAUSING HIS WIFE’S DEATH”
It appears that for some little time past a newly married couple named Elsegood, with a baby, have lived in rooms at 67 Milton Street, Porters Town. The landlady, Mrs King, did not notice any disagreement between the couple until Thursday last, when she retired to rest and listened in bed to high words between man and wife. The row continued fitfully all through Friday, until the woman left the house with her child. She returned on Saturday morning, but another scene occurred in the afternoon, and after tea the husband was seen by the landlady to take his box out of the house with the help of his brother, but not before he had taken his presents from her; left her without food for Sunday, without money, and without goods; his parting words being that she was have to go to service, as he intended to be free in future. Mrs King went on: at half past eight, and on her return, Mrs Elsegood had gone. An hour afterwards her mutilated body was discovered near Hastings Road Crossing.
Tom Elsegood, said deceased was his wife and 22 years of age. She was married to him on November 5th 1898. Witness last saw her alive at ten minutes to six on Saturday evening in his house. He had no conversation with her before he left and there had been no disagreement between them.
Witness added that he came home between ten and eleven and missed his wife. In the bedroom he found two notes and her wedding ring.
One of the letters ran: “My dear husband - These are the last lines I ever shall write to you. I am very sorry that I ever left you. I know that it did not seem nice to come after you, but when I found you had gone I got so wild I scarcely knew what I did. I should have forgiven you yesterday morning had you been in a little better temper than you was. Now, you see you have got back your freedom. I hope and trust; please God, you will have a better wife than a ‘penny prize packet’”. At this the husband burst out crying. The coroner passed the notes to the jury so they could read them.
Tom Elsegood denied at length that he had ill-treated his wife or denied her money or food.
Was your wife an excitable woman? - Not excitable, but she took to heart a lot about her father’s death. She always said every night, before she went to bed, that she always believed her stepmother poisoned her father. She always took it to heart about that.
The Coroner: Who is Fred? - The child. It was her child, and not mine. It was born two years before we were married. I knew about the child. She came to my work the day after I first took her out and she gave me a letter that explained everything. She told me to burn it.
The Foreman: Who was the child’s father? - Frederick Allen, painter, of Southchurch Road.
Mrs King, the landlady gave evidence that she had seen Mrs Elsegood in a very distressed state on the three days prior to her death. She told the jury that Mrs Elsegood had told her the reason for this; that her husband had gone to the theatre on Thursday night despite the fact she had not wanted him to, and that they had quarrelled for three days since, culminating in his departure.
P.S. Theobald said he went to the Hastings Road Crossing on Saturday night and with the assistance of P.C. Hoy removed the body to the mortuary. In the dress pocket there was a purse containing three halfpence, a small brooch, and a bill. Next morning, underneath the Brewery Road arch, he found a hat and inside it a letter addressed to Mrs Goodeve, North Road, deceased’s sister. In the letter was a keeper ring. The appearances of the line showed that the body had been dragged for 230 yards.
At the request of the Foreman, the Coroner read as much as he could decipher of the letter left under the railway bridge.
My dearest sisters and brothers - From my very heart I am writing this letter. I am very sorry to do what I have done. I only hope and trust, please God, that I may be forgiven. I am trying to join my mother in Heaven if I can do so, but, of course, I shall be dead, so I cannot tell you. I only ask you to remember me in your prayers. Dear Lizzie, you must not grieve for me. It is the love that I have for my husband that I am doing it. Then he can have his freedom back as much as he likes, and I hope he will get something better than a “penny prize packet”, which is what he told me I was, and nothing else, but it is my wish to have Tom’s photo in my coffin with me, and also the buttonhole that he wore at his wedding. You will find them in the hat box with my hat and things. I want you to burn my wedding dress and also the white hat that I was married in, but you can have everything else that belongs to me. Mrs King will tell you which are mine and which are hers. There is only cups and saucers that belong to me; the inkpot and plates are mine. Alice may have the ring that I left in the letter as a little memento. Tell her she is doing a very wise thing not to get married. Dear Lizzie, you must give Hattie something.
Directions followed to burn her marriage lines and break a cheese dish after her death. The letter went on:
There is more I wish to say. If Fred lives, try to keep him in ignorance of his mother’s death. I hope he will not live long after me. I have not got any life left in me. He has completely broken my heart. I never thought I should have to end my life like this, but I shall be at rest, thank God. I could not go out and face the world any more. It has taken the life out of me. The only thing I hope and pray of God is that He may receive my soul so I shall be at rest.
I HAVE READ MY PRAYER BOOK:
I HAVE READ THE 55TH PSALM
I SANG THE ROCK OF AGES
KISSED THE BABY AND BID HIM GOODBYE
I would like one last kiss from Tom though I would not ask him for it. He has not kissed me since Thursday morning. Little did I know that was the last I gave him. I gave him my wedding ring back. He has taken it, and I could not give him more. I have kept my - for him till the last and may God forgive him for what he has drove me to do. Dear Lizzie, will you tell Mrs King I am sorry to leave the place, as it was very clean for me to come into but perhaps his sister will be so kind as to go and scrub it for me so Mrs King can have it clean again as I have not got the heart to do it. This marriage, instead of bringing happiness to me, has brought misery, but if I have to suffer in the next world it will be for his sake and for his happiness. You must not fret for me, but keep it away from the children, if you can. There is no more I can tell you. I thank you for what you have done for me, and also Dick. I don’t know if Alf will take Fred back, but I have left him at Mrs King’s. I must say goodbye for the last time. I remain your affectionate brokenhearted sister, Annie Elsegood. I hope my soul will be forgiven, so pray for me.
Lizzie Goodeve, the deceased’s eldest sister, testified that Mrs Elsegood had spent the night with her on Friday. She had been in a “fainting state” and had been unable to talk for at least an hour. They had been forced to give her some port wine for her condition. Mrs Goodeve disagreed with Mr Elsegood’s assertion that he had never had a cross word with his wife. She told the jury that he treated her very cruelly and that she was always hungry.
The coroner surmised that Elsegood’s evidence seemed at odds with that of the other witnesses and that he was probably guilty of perjury, but that the outcome of the enquiry would probably serve as sufficient punishment.
Elsegood was put up and the Coroner addressing him said: You have heard the verdict the jury have returned, and you have probably heard their opinion of you, and that opinion I heartily endorse, for I think a more heartless way, a more unmanly way to have treated a woman could not possibly have been found than that in which you treated her. You may not have struck her, but by your conduct towards her you were the means of driving her to commit this act. It is a terrible thing, and I think it will be a terrible punishment to you to the end of your days. I quite agree with every word the jury has said. You were the person who drove her to do it and you are morally guilty for the cause of her death. (Applause.)
The man commenced to cry but was quickly removed and the enquiry closed.
Fred did live. Alf, Annie's brother, did take him, and brought him up as his own. As was Annie's wish, he was never told the circumstances of his mother's death. Fred was my great grandfather.
Tom Elsegood married again three years later.
Alice failed to heed Annie's advice and married an American.
Annie's stepmother did not poison her father. He was a painter and decorator, and poisonous lead was an ingredient of paint at that time. This is what killed him.
67 Milton Street is now a car park.
I have no idea what the significance of the cheese dish was.