The bull-like man with a mane of white hair, dark clothes and a dog-collar sat impassively in the dock at the Central Criminal Court on 10 January 1872 as the case against him was presented by the Prosecution, the Hon G. Denman, QC.
Mr John Selby Watson was a 67 year-old clergyman and was charged with the wilful murder of his wife, Anne Watson, aged about 63 on 8 October 1871. He had been a school master.
John Selby Watson (1804-1884) was brought up by his paternal grandfather, a Dartford auctioneer. On his grandfather’s death he was left £300, a brace of pistols and some books. He enrolled at Trinity College, Dublin, studied Classics and became one of the Gold Medallists. After he graduated he was ordained priest by the Bishop of Bath and Wells in 1840.
He became a teacher and was appointed Headmaster of Stockwell Grammar School in 1844, and the next year he married Anne Armstrong, a highly strung woman some three years younger than he.
They settled in the Schoolhouse where his £300 a-year salary, although meagre, gave them a style of life that made Anne relatively happy. His basic salary was increased because of his good reputation and thus the increased amount of students at the school, to £400 between 1863 and 1869. He also added to his income by writing articles in magazines and biographies on George Fox, Richard Porson, William Wallace and Bishop Warburton – the last being his most successful.
Mrs Watson, however, wanted her own house. Accordingly they moved to 28 St Martin’s Lane, a short walk from the school in Stockwell. Gradually, Anne became shrewish, taking to the bottle and ranting at the staff and sometimes at her husband.
He contented himself with the knowledge that, during his tenure as headmaster, the school had thrived; some students even attaining national prominence His charges also respected him as he was one of the few masters of the age who didn’t believe in corporal punishment, preferring to encourage his students.
The school and Governors had presented him with a silver salver at the school assembly on 30 September 1870 and spoke glowing words of his accomplishments.But alas, this was not to last. The letter came asking him to vacate his position as from the end of term!
He tried to reason with the Governors to no avail. His wife ranted and he locked himself in the study as his secure lifestyle disintegrated around him. He cut down on his house staff, only keeping on two, including the devoted Ellen Pyne, and tried to convince his wife that they needed to move to smaller premises she would have none of it.
The crunch came on 8 October 1871. In a fit of rage at one of Anne’s drunken tirades Watson killed her with the butt of one of his pistols. He then tried to commit suicide with Prussic acid three days later, but Ellen Pyne found him and called for a doctor. It was then that his wife’s body was found in a trunk, and Dr Watson was taken to Horsemonger Jail.
He pleaded not guilty. Various doctors were called to the stand. None of them was willing to say whether he could be declared insane. But they did admit that he might have been suffering from ‘Melancholia’ – despondency at his predicament. What did emerge was that Mrs Watson was of a ‘rather hasty temperament’ difficult and quarrelsome.
Mr Justice Byles summed up on the third day. Had the prisoner acted in a manner that showed he was in full possession of his faculties when he committed the crime? The jury’s verdict was murder but they asked for clemency in view of the defendant’s age and previous good character. The judge ordered that he be hanged but the sentence was commuted to life imprisonment at Parkhurst Prison on the Isle of Wight. Watson died from a fall from his hammock here on 6 July 1884.
Peter de Loriol’s latest book, South London Murders, is out now