James Morton looks back at the dark past that mysterious lawyer william howe left behind before embarking on a brilliant, but chequered, career in America


The recent jailing of a barrister for perverting the course of justice reminded me of the great English-born New York lawyer William Howe. In 1874, Howe – whose finances were generally as shaky as many a bank today – was sued by the white-slaver Adelaide Beaumont for the return of $3,200 she had paid for her defence. Some of the money, she claimed, was to bribe a judge. A civil action was settled, with Howe repaying $2,000. This did not satisfy her and she claimed she had been misled over the settlement.



She sued again and a good deal of information about Howe was uncovered. He claimed that he had read law at King’s College, London and, after graduation, had entered the office of George Waugh, ‘a noted barrister’, where ‘I had the good fortune to meet the commendation of Mr Waugh, and I was consequently placed at the head of his corps of assistants, and frequently appeared in the London courts in place of my employer’. He went on to say that, ‘in pursuance of an intention long prior formed’, he returned to America ‘in the early fifties’. No, he was neither William Frederick Howe wanted for murder in England nor the William Frederick Howe convicted in Boston of forgery.



Howe accepted he had been a witness in two murder cases. This was, indeed, a clue to his past and what is certain is that, when in England, he was a thoroughly nasty piece of work. In April 1849, he gave evidence at the trial of James Blomfield Rush, accused of the murder of the Recorder of Norwich, Isaac Jermy.



Rush, who lived with his mistress-cum-servant Emily Sandford and nine children, had farmed nearby at Potash Farm. He had fallen behind in his mortgage repayments and had been made bankrupt by Jermy. Due to be evicted within the next 48 hours, he went to Stanfield Hall, where he shot and killed Jermy, as well as injuring his wife and maid. Howe wrote to the Mayor of Norwich, offering to appear for the prosecution.



On 2 April, he gave the sort of evidential tittle-tattle which does immense damage because it cannot be properly challenged. Waugh, a solicitor not a barrister, had been acting for Rush in the property dispute. Howe said he had been with Rush in December 1847 at a refreshment house in the Strand with the prize-fighter Samuel Simmonds when Rush came in and bought the pugilist a glass of claret before remarking: ‘If I could strike like Simmonds, I would knock Jermy down as I would a bullock.’ Later, Rush had told him: ‘It will not be long before I serve him with an ejectment.’ Or, thought Howe, it might have been ‘an ejectment for another world’.



Rush, representing himself, did what he could. Had Howe been accused of forging a theatre pass at the Lyceum in the name of the actor-manager Charles Mathews? Yes, but it had been a joke and the charge had been withdrawn. He had never posed as a barrister, but he agreed he had worn a wig in a ‘Judge and Jury Club’ trial. He had had calling cards in the name of Abraham Leistrow printed but he had never used them. No, he had never been indicted at the Old Bailey for perjury.



Rush now called Waugh, who said of his former employee: ‘I would not believe him on oath if contradicted by reputable testimony.’ He also called Arthur Hyde. Howe had told him he had evidence which would hang Rush, and that he would go to Norfolk for £20 and swear either way. Rush’s efforts did him little good. The other evidence was overwhelming. The jury retired a bare six minutes and Rush was hanged on 21 April 1849.



Howe lasted as a solicitor’s clerk for another five years, getting into increasing difficulties. In 1853, he was involved in a case of theft in which a man, Collins, was seen by an omnibus conductor stealing a woman’s purse. A young boy, Henry Brown, had seen Collins throw away the purse. Howe got to the boy, who changed his evidence. Asked if he was now saying he could not identify Collins, Brown replied that it was because Howe had told him to say that and had given a guinea to his father. Counsel threw up the brief in disgust. Howe left court in disarray and Collins went to prison.



By June 1854, there were other serious problems. Apart from the Collins fiasco, there was the matter of a perjured bail affidavit in the case of Mary Blatchford, accused of robbery, along with general allegations that the unqualified Howe had been posing as a solicitor. In September 1854, he was convicted at the Old Bailey and received 18 months’ imprisonment with hard labour.



And the allegation that he was wanted for murder in England? There does not appear to be anyone by his name wanted in the years following 1854. Perhaps the confusion arose with the death of George Waugh, who was shot dead near his office in Holborn.



His attacker was a former client, Westron, for whom he had obtained a substantial settlement in a long-running action. Westron was in no way grateful, claiming that Waugh had cheated him and, as a result, he was forced to live on bread and cheese. He began threatening the solicitor.



On 16 January 1856, Westron saw Waugh approaching and ran out of Hand Court where he had been lying in wait, firing point blank into Waugh’s chest. He was immediately detained by the beadles. In March, the death penalty was commuted to penal servitude for life. Westron was said to be ‘predisposed to insanity’.



But now, Howe was on his way to America for what would turn out to be a quite brilliant, if chequered, career.



James Morton is a former criminal law specialist solicitor and now a freelance journalist