Death Report - Bucks Standard

Note: The report is essentially the same as that printed in the Special Edition of Monday July 22nd, 1912. There are however several important additions, as this version appeared at the end of the week, after the Inquest, and after the reporter had had a chance to interview people in more detail. The extra sections are reproduced in red.

Appalling Tragedy at Hanslope

SQUIRE WATTS MURDERED BY HIS GAMEKEEPER

The Murderer takes his own Life

'This is the Fatal Day'

The usually peaceful village of Hanslope, situate in one of the beauty spots of North Bucks, was thrown into a state of consternation yesterday (Sunday) by the report of a terrible tragedy, the news of which rapidly spread

At first it was hoped that the story was an exaggerated tale of the gossips anxious to create excitement and develop the spirit of curiosity. But unhappily the report proved only too true, and just as the village folk had retired from worship in their parish church or in the Nonconformist chapels they had to face the hideous fact that their beloved "Squire" - Edward Hanslope Watts, Esq. - had been shot in cold blood, that his assassin had ended his own life, and that only by a miracle had Mrs. Watts escaped injury.

The Motive a Mystery

The motive of the crime is shrouded in mystery. "Squire" Watts was known as a model landlord; one of nature's gentlemen, whose only desire was to promote and advance the happiness of his parishioners and to do everything that would make for their material benefit and good.

He was regarded as the friend of all and the enemy of none; and certainly no one ever dreamt that there was one of the villagers - much less one of his own workmen - who, without warning of any kind, would be capable of such a cruel and dastardly action as to rob the parish with such tragic suddenness of one whose whole life had been bound up in the interests and welfare of those among whom he lived.

From the Church to Death

With buoyant spirits Mr. and Mrs. Watts attended Divine service at Hanslope Parish Church yesterday morning. They had returned invigorated and refreshed from a week's holiday only two days previously, and they had been cheered by the message that the Bible had revealed in a striking sermon by the Rev. W. J. Harkness, the vicar of the parish. They were returning together to their beautiful home, situate in charming grounds, studded with stately elms and surrounded by verdant pastures

A Report of a Gun

As he entered the church which he served as a warden, and again on leaving, Mr. and Mrs. Watts had a cheery smile and a kindly word for the village. They returned from the service on foot and were accompanied a portion of the journey by Dr. Rutherford. The good Squire and his wife had got to within twenty yards of the Park Lodge entrance when the report of a gun shot was heard from the adjacent woodland, and the next moment Mr. Will Green, whose father was coachman to Mr. Watts, and who lives with his parents at the Lodge, rushed out, only to find that his father's beloved and considerate master was lying prone on the grass by the roadside, without any sign of life.

"He's Shooting Again."

As Mrs Green rushed out of the house close on the heels of her son she heard Mrs. Watts crying out in alarm, "He's shooting again." The words had scarcely passed Mrs. Watts' lips when she is said to have fallen on her knees.

Then there was a second report from the gun, the discharge entering the unwarned and unarmed squire's back.

Mrs. Watts, distracted by the unwarrantable and unprovoked attack upon her husband, had what can only be described as a marvellously miraculous escape.

She was found leaning over the lifeless body of her beloved husband, with his head resting on her breast, the stream of blood which was flowing from his fatal wounds saturating her clothing. She refused to be comforted by the consoling words and sympathetic utterances of Mrs. Green, who was horrified by the awful spectacle which the crime revealed.

Immediately the second shot was fired an ominous sound came from the thick undergrowth of the spinney - two of which skirt the roadway leading from Hanslope Park to the village and abut also on the Tathall End - Wolverton thoroughfare. These tiny woodlands, which give charm and beauty to a truly old world country district, are removed but a few yards from the entrance to the stately home of Mr. E. H. Watts.

The Murderer in Hiding

In the largest of the two spinneys, the one on the left hand side of the road as Mr. Watts was walking with his wife from church, William Farrow, a man 45 years of age, and employed as gamekeeper on the estate, had secreted himself. Behind the hedge, and under the shadow of the spreading branches of a fir tree Farrow evidently waited for some time in order that he might accomplish the dreadful crime.

Farrow, a man standing but 5 feet 5 inches high, and of strong build for his height, was a native of the Wigan district of Lancashire, and prior to coming to Hanslope had been engaged as gamekeeper by the Selby-Lowndes family at Whaddon, who are relatives of Mr. Watts. Of a morose and taciturn character he is said to have been drinking heavily the week prior to the awful tragedy. His wife had remonstrated with him.

"This is the Fatal Day"

That the crime was premeditated and carefully planned there can be no doubt. Since the awful affair two important statements made by Farrow have been divulged. Early on Sunday morning --the day when the people of Hanslope were plunged into a state of uncontrollable grief -- Farrow's eldest daughter, a bright little girl of some eleven or twelve summers, got up early and took her father a cup of tea. To the child Farrow is said to have remarked. "This is the last cup of tea you will bring me. You may hear I am in Northampton Gaol tonight." Little Miss Farrow regarded the utterance as a joke.

A little later, when handing his weekly wages to his wife, Farrow said, "This is the last lot of money you will have from me. This is the fatal day." Like her daughter, Mrs. Farrow paid little heed to her husband's strange talk. He had been drinking, and had taken little, if any, food the day previously, and such words -- remarkably significant when the subsequent dreadful events are considered -- did not arouse fears nor excite suspicion.

In other respects Farrow showed no signs on Sunday morning that he contemplated murder. He did some unimportant work in his garden and then left home to go through the preserves and woods of which he had charge.

The Fatal Cartridges

At 10.30 o'clock he returned home and informed his wife that he wanted some cartridges for Mr. Whitbread, a tenant of Mr. Watts, and whose land adjoins the spinney from the seclusion of which he murdered his master an hour later in cold blood.

Farrow took the cartridges with him but no gun. He seemed happy when he left his home, and there was nothing in his demeanour to show that he contemplated doing harm to anyone.

It is known that Mr. Whitbread had no need of cartridges, and that he had never approached Farrow with a view to being loaned anything of the kind. What is conjectured is that the gamekeeper walked back to the spinney where he probably had previously secreted his double-barrel gun and there awaited the arrival of his master and mistress, with whose movements he was well acquainted and familiar on Sabbath mornings.

Mrs. Watts was in the habit of walking just a yard or so behind her husband when going or returning from church. Farrow, looking over the spinney hedge, watched his master coming down the road, and when he had just passed him must have brought his gun to his shoulder and fired. The shot was undoubtedly deliberate and intended to kill Mr. Watts, and immediately the report was heard at the lodge there was a woman's scream. Mrs. Watts was distinctly heard by Mrs. Green to exclaim, "He's shooting again."

Will Green was shaving at the time, and he looked out of the window and up the road. Before he had time to realise what was happening there was a second report from the gun and Mr. Watts was seen to be lying on the ground with his distracted wife in a kneeling position by his side overcome with grief. Green and his mother rushed out, but they were too late to render assistance, for the assassin's shots had done their dread work, and the village squire had breathed his last.

Suicide of the Murderer

As Mrs. Green and her son ran up the road they saw Farrow hurrying into the seclusion of the woodland. Then there was a third report from a gun and later it was found that the murderer of Mr. Watts had taken his own life.

He was lying on his back with a dreadful wound in his head, and with his gun lying full length on his stomach the muzzle pointing to his head, from which blood was pouring in profusion. The murder of Mr. Watts was committed with a sliver-mounted double barrelled gun, borrowed by Farrow a day or two previously from Mr. J. Ruff, one of the farmers of the parish. The murderer took his own life with his own gun, the barrel of which must have been placed close to the mouth. The front teeth were blown out, and the charge found an exit near to the base of the skull. The man's face was not disfigured in any way. Death must have been instantaneous.

Dr. Rutherford, who but a quarter of an hour previously had left Mr. and Mrs. Watts, was promptly summoned, but he could only confirm the dread fear that the beloved squire had entered on his last long sleep. Police Constable Cooper was acquainted of the tragedy and residents of the parish were soon on the scene. Mr Green, the Lodge keeper and trusted servant of the squire, had gone into the village, but he hurried back when the story of the murder was communicated to him. It was Mr. Green who later went into the spinney, and found the lifeless body of the gamekeeper.

Mrs. Watts was conveyed home in a state of collapse, and the dead body of her husband was removed with care and reverence on an ambulance litter to the home where he had lived so long, and where his hospitality and kindness were free to any of his neighbours. Messrs. Clifton, Green, Webb, A. Dightam, F. Garratt and other assisted in carrying the body to the Park. Meanwhile the body of Farrow - murderer and suicide - was taken to his little cottage at Tathall End on a hurdle. His removal was undertaken by, among others, Messrs. Joe Lane, W. Young, and H. Warner.

Farrow was a man of reserved character and had little intercourse with the other employees on the estate. He had been in Mr. Watts' employ just under two years. It is said he was under notice to leave his employment, but this circumstance is not generally regarded as having any connection with the crime.

A Sunstroke

Last August he was out shooting on Linford Wood on the Hanslope estate and was seized with a very severe sunstroke. He was picked up unconscious in a wood, in which condition he remained for some time.

It is believed that the recent heat might have brought on a recurrence of the sunstroke attack, and that in a period of mental aberration, and without knowledge of what he was doing, he shot his master and then took his own life.

Whatever motive there might have been for the crime we are unable to say. It is known that Farrow left a note in his game book, but the purport of this had no bearing on the tragedy. During the time Farrow's dead body was being conveyed home his two eldest children were on their way to the Parish Church Sunday School. Theirs must have been a sad homecoming. Nothing was known that he had a grievance or any ill-will against Mr. Watts, and in the village the cause for the crime will probably for ever remain a mystery.

A Model Landlord

Mr E.H.Watts was one of the best known of our North Bucks country gentlemen. He was a Justice of the Peace for Buckinghamshire, and only a few months ago succeeded his Grace the Duke of Grafton, K.G., as chairman of the Stony Stratford Bench of Magistrates. He interested himself in county affairs generally, and anything for the public good had in the dead squire a friend in the truest sense of the word. He is a brother-in-law of that distinguished soldier General Sir John French, Lady French being a sister of Mrs. Watts. Their only daughter married Mr. Mark Poore, a brother of the Duchess of Hamilton, and of Lt.-Col Poore, the well-known Hampshire cricketer.

In the village of Hanslope the tragic death of Mr. Watts was heard of with profound grief, for his great-heartedness and his unremitting kindness to the poor had won for him the love of all classes, rich and poor alike. He was a model landlord, considerate to his tenants to a degree, whilst the employees on the estate found him to be the kindest of masters.