CHAPTERLXXXIX.CHARLES PEACE AND THE DYSONS.Everybody will agree with us when we declare that Peace’s acquaintance with the Dysons is altogether incomprehensible.How he managed to force himself upon these two persons, how he contrived to have so strong a hold on Mrs. Dyson, appears to be the strangest and most inexplicable part of his career.He persecuted her with a pertinacity which was almost unparalleled.Whether he was really attached to her it is not possible to say, but it must be admitted that his conduct at this time was more like that of a madman than of a rational being.Mr. Dyson, the ill-fated gentleman who was murdered in 1876 by the miscreant Peace, was married in 1866 at Cleveland, Ohio, and took a house at Finsbury. From thence he removed to Highfield, afterwards to Heeley, and again to Darnall, and from Darnall they moved to Banner-cross-terrace.There is just a short period of the history and phase in the existence of Mr. Arthur Dyson after his arrival in this country from America, says a fellow countryman of his, which may not be uninteresting. Soon after his arrival he made application to the resident engineer of the North-Eastern Railway Company at York for employment as a civil engineer and surveyor, and his credentials were of such a character that an engagement was entered into with him. The character of his occupation in America led to the anticipation that he would be able to find “his way about here,” and that in fact his services might prove to be of a most useful character.On presenting himself for the purpose of commencing his duties, his personal appearance was the source of considerable curiosity and surprise amongst the remainder of the officials in the engineer’s office.He was extremely thin and singularly tall, measuring over six feet; and he wore a low felt hat, as he afterwards explained to one of the staff, for the purpose of abstracting from his great height and from the observation which it had led to amongst those with whom he had to associate.He cut a singular figure when engaged in his occasional duties as a draughtsman at the table which was general to the rest of the staff, and to mitigate the inconvenience which must have attended his tallness in the performance of this part of his duties, some special arrangements were made by which he might be able to keep a more upright position. Despite his great height, he is described as being as “straight as a poplar.”The general bearing of Mr. Dyson was that of a gentleman, and whether in conversation or written communication with those around him, he never bent from this position, and, as a consequence, commanded general respect.When he took his engagement in York, he dated from the Firs, near Rotherham, where he said that his wife was residing; and whilst he remained in the ancient city he lodged with a Mr. Waddington, of Holgate-lane.He was engaged there for only about two months, much of the time being occupied in surveying various stations on the York and Whitby line.He had at last been sent for this purpose to Grosmont Station, and as after his departure, as it was expected, for that place, nothing was heard of him for a fortnight, inquiry was made at Grosmont, and it was found that he had not been there.This led to an intimation being sent to him at the address near Rotherham that his return to duty was not required, and to the termination of his engagement with the North-Eastern Railway Company.Peculiarity was noticed about the unfortunate gentleman, which gave rise at the time to the impression that something preyed upon his mind, and he on more than one occasion, in intimating to one of his superiors a desire that he should be allowed weekly to visit his wife, hinted that he suffered from some domestic trouble.What the nature of this domestic trouble was it is not easy to say.Possibly it might be in some way connected with the mischievous, tormenting little rascal, Peace.While the Dysons were at Darnall Peace was a frequent visitor at their house.Mr. Dyson, for some considerable time after his first becoming acquainted with our hero, conceived a certain amount of partiality for him, and, in consequence of this, Peace soon became on intimate terms with both husband and wife; his connection with the latter has never been clearly established.It is, however, quite certain that his attentions to Mrs. Dyson were most marked and persistent.She went about with him to various places of amusement, and was with him also at the Sheffield summer fair, 1876, and also to several public-houses—this was proved at the magisterial examination.This familiarity with Peace greatly annoyed Mr. Dyson, who was a discreet, equably-disposed, well-conducted man.He was greatly incensed at his wife’s intimacy with our hero, and as time went on he spoke his mind pretty plainly, but Peace was not a man to be snubbed easily—he openly defied Mr. Dyson, and continued his persecutions of his erratic wife.It is certain that for a considerable period he had a powerful hold of her—not of her affections perhaps, but her vanity was such that she continued on friendly terms with him long after her husband had expressed his dislike to the man.One afternoon she had been with him to his brother’s public-house, where, it appears, there were singing and dancing.She bent her steps in the direction of Darnall. Peace insisted on accompanying her, and as the pair were proceeding along they came in sight of a well-known roadside inn, with a garden in its front; here they stopped and had some refreshment.“It’s no use your thinking of giving me the cut, old woman,” said Peace. “I’ll stick to you while I’ve life, and I’m not going to be shunted.”“I wish you’d hold your tongue, or, at any rate, not speak so loud,” cried his companion. “I never met with such a man in all my life.”“I am devotedly attached to you, and you know it,” whispered Peace; “and nothing in the world shall make me give you up.”“You are talking like a fool.”“No matter about that—I’m saying what I mean. I tell you again, I won’t be cast off. I love you too well for that. Do you hear?”“I hear, of course; but I have a kind good husband, and must not listen to your nonsense.”“It is not nonsense—it is the solemn truth. You don’t know what sort of man you have to deal with. I would give up everything for your sake. Can a man say fairer than that?”“I don’t want you to give up anything for my sake. All I want is for you to keep at a respectful distance.”“Then I won’t do anything of the sort,” cried Peace, in a fury, and making such a hideous grimace that his companion was frightened.“I won’t—not for you or any one else,” he repeated in a louder tone.“Do, for goodness’ sake, mind what you are saying,” murmured his companion.“I do mind, and I hope you do also. I tell you again, I won’t give you up. We’ve been companions and friends for a long time, and it is not because your stately, mighty big fellow of a husband has taken a dislike to me that our friendship is to cease. Listen; I’ve got a good lump of money, and it will be yours if you’ll only consent to fly with me.”The woman burst out into a loud laugh.“Fly with you!” she exclaimed. “You must be mad to make such a proposition. No, no, my friend; I know what is right and proper.”“I’ll make you do so,” he exclaimed, making another grimace, and regarding her with a malicious grin, which was more like that of a satyr than a human being.He caught her by the arm, which he pinched with savage grip.“Leave go!” she ejaculated. “What have I done that you should treat me thus?”“I’ll never leave you, never give you up as long as I have life,” he returned.“Oh! you tormenting man! I will not remain with you any longer.”“You shall!” he returned quickly. You shan’t leave; I won’t let you. Don’t think to get the better of me, my lady. You shan’t go.”Mrs. Dyson gave utterance to a faint scream, when, to the surprise of her and her pertinacious companion, Mr. Dyson came in front of the arbour in which they were seated.“What is the matter?” he inquired. Then, for the first time, catching sight of Peace, he said, in a tone of anger—“How is it I find you, sir, annoying my wife again?I must request you to abstain from this unseemly conduct. If you do not, I shall take means to prevent you.”“Shut up!” cried Peace, “and mind your own business. This is a public place, and as such, I have as much right to be here as you have. So shut up, I say.”“You are an impertinent fellow,” said Mr. Dyson, seizing him by the collar, and dragging him forcibly from the alcove, “and deserve a thrashing.”Peace slipped deftly from the grasp of his assailant, and retiring back for some little distance, he bent down his head, and rushed forward, making a full butt at him.The attack was so sudden and unexpected, that Mr. Dyson fell to the ground with considerable force, and was for the space of a few minutes utterly powerless and prostrated.One of the waiters of the establishment came to his assistance, helped him up, and there was a general expression of surprise and disgust at the cowardly action. A search was made for Peace, who had however, deemed it prudent to beat a retreat.He was nowhere to be found.“The contemptible, despicable little wretch!” exclaimed Mr. Dyson. “The spiteful, malicious scoundrel!”“He is the torment of our lives, dear,” returned Mrs. Dyson. “Oh, I do wish we could find means of being rid of the ruffian.”“I’ll get a summons against him, and punish him, as he deserves to be punished.”“That’s the best plan, sir,” observed the landlord. “There are plenty of witnesses who can speak to the assault.”“The man is our evil genius, I do believe,” said Mr. Dyson. “I have thought so for some time. He has been the bane of our existence, and has caused us more anxiety and trouble than I can at the present moment describe. He’s a most venomous creature.”“He’s a reptile, that’s what he is!” cried Mrs. Dyson. “But, never mind, dear, we can take measures to bring him to justice.”Mr. and Mrs. Dyson returned home; the former was greatly disgusted with Peace’s conduct, and upbraided his wife for having consented to be his companion. The latter offered every possible excuse, and said that it was no fault of hers, that she was afraid of him, that he was a dangerous designing man, who persecuted her in a manner which was altogether unaccountable.In his reply to this Mr. Dyson said she must have given him some encouragement, or he never would be so pertinacious.After a wrangle Mr. Dyson left the house and proceeded in the direction of the line where his services were required, and his wife strove to calm herself as best she could.Evening came on, and as she sat at her toilette in one of the upstairs rooms of her domicile, she was suddenly aroused by some sand or gravel being thrown violently against the window panes of her bedroom.She looked out and beheld Peace at the side of the house.“What do you want now?” cried she, opening the window.“You,” he returned, whereupon he threw a pebble stone, round which a piece of paper was wrapped, into the open casement.“Go about your business; I will have nothing to say to you,” said Mrs. Dyson.“Won’t you? I know better than that. Read!”She unfolded the paper, and read its contents, which were as follows:—“Don’t flatter yourself that you can elude me. I am here, as you see, again. Come down, or it will be worse for you.”“Go away!” said Mrs. Dyson, looking out. “I don’t want to have any conversation with you, and I positively refuse to come down.”“You do?” screamed Peace, making a face at her. “You refuse?”“Most positively.”“I’ll break into the house, and force you to hear me!” he cried, with a malicious grin. “You know enough of me that I am not likely to take such an answer. I will make you do what I wish.”“Oh, you horrible man!”“Horrible—am I?” He drew a revolver from his pocket. “You will make me do something horrible if you don’t mind,” he ejaculated.“I’ll call my husband, and let him answer you,” returned Mrs. Dyson.“Your husband, the poor fool!” said Peace, in a jeering tone. “Do you think I am to be deceived? Your husband is far away. But if he were at home it would be much the same. Come down and let me in.”The wretched woman was so alarmed, that she went down from the upper room and opened the front door.“For mercy’s sake, Peace, do go away—there’s a good fellow. I must not and will not have anything to say to you, after your cowardly conduct.”He tormentingly laughed at this last observation.He placed one arm round her shoulders, drew her towards him, and endeavoured to embrace her.She was a powerful woman, and struggled desperately to release herself from his grasp.A violent struggle ensued, in which Mrs. Dyson struck Peace repeatedly with her clenched fist; but his perseverance was beyond all bounds.He fought like a demon, and his conduct, taken altogether, was like that of a perfect madman.How long the conflict would have continued, and what would have been its issue, it is not possible to say, had it not been for the unlooked-for assistance arriving.A policeman, who happened to be passing, attracted Mrs. Dyson’s attention. She called to him, and he at once came to the rescue.“Take this man away,” she said.“Do you charge him?” inquired the constable.“No. All I want of you is to take him away. Remove him from these premises.”“Now then, you sir,” said the officer, “move on, or I’ll lock you up.”He gave Peace a push, which sent him reeling.“You keep your hands to yourself, and don’t assault me,” said he, “or I’ll lodge a complaint against you; mind you that.”“Will you go? If you don’t—well I shall know what to do.”“You’re a big man in your own estimation, but a very little one in everybody else’s,” returned Peace, who, however, thought it best to get clear off; and so, making mocking gestures as he went along, he went his way without further ado.It was a great relief to Mrs. Dyson when he was out of sight; but she was not at all certain about his returning shortly.However, he did not trouble her again that night.This attack, together with a variety of others of a similar nature, was the reason the Dysons had for leaving Darnall.They took a house at Bannercross, to be farther removed from their tormentor.The trouble and misery brought upon the Dysons by Peace is almost incalculable. We cannot do better than place before the reader Mrs. Dyson’s own account of her connection with the murderer of her husband:—“When we went to Darnall,” said Mrs. Dyson, “our troubles began.“But for our going there, Mr. Dyson would probably have been still alive, and I should have been spared all that has happened since.“You will naturally ask how I became acquainted with Peace. It was impossible to avoid becoming acquainted with him.“Besides, at that time I did not know the sort of man he really was. He lived the next door but one to us at Darnall, and he used generally to speak to Mr. Dyson on going in and out.“Mr. Dyson was a gentleman, and, of course, when Peace spoke to him he used to reply.“But Peace wasn’t content with a merely speaking acquaintance. He wanted to force himself upon us. He did all he could until he succeeded in accomplishing this.“One of his favourite means was to place his parrots and his other birds upon a wall. He would then call our attention to them, and to what they could do, and thus get us into conversation with him.“Introduction! you say. No, there was no introduction. He introduced himself, and would have you to talk with him whether you would or no.“At first Mr. Dyson did not object, and Peace became a constant visitor to the house.“He was plausibility itself. To hear him talk you would have thought him the most harmless of men. I am certain that much which he has succeeded in doing, both before and after the murder, is the result of the power which he has been able to exercise by his tongue and manner.“Of course, when we went to Darnall we did not know what he was. To us he appeared to be simply a picture-framer in anything but good circumstances, for he had but little business to do, and his wife used to go out every morning washing bottles.“We considered they were poor. I am, of course, now speaking of the time when we first went to live at Darnall. Mr. Dyson soon begun to tire of him. My husband had travelled much, and could converse well on many subjects.“Peace was plausible enough, but his language was not good; in fact, he very soon began to show that he was anything but a gentleman. Mr. Dyson could not stand that; and, besides, he had seen something which disgusted him.”“Do you mind telling me what that was?”“Well, it was some obscene pictures, and my husband said he didn’t like a man of that kind, and wouldn’t have anything more to do with him. Besides, another thing greatly repelled Mr. Dyson. It was this. Peace wanted to take him to Sheffield to show him what he called the ‘sights of the town.’“Mr. Dyson knew what that meant, and being, as I have said, a gentleman, he became much disgusted at Peace and annoyed that he should force his company upon us.“My husband had been accustomed to different society. But we couldn’t get rid of him. We were bound to show him common politeness. Though he must have seen that we didn’t want his company, he forced himself upon us.“He would, for instance, drop in just when we were sitting down to tea, and we were compelled almost to ask him to have a cup.“His constant visits to the house at last became intolerable to us, and then it was that my husband placed his card in the garden, desiring Peace not to annoy him or his family.“When he found that he could no longer gain access to the house, Peace became awfully impudent.No.47.Illustration: THE BANNERCROSS MURDERTHE BANNERCROSS MURDER—PEACE THREATENING MRS. DYSON.“He would, for instance, stand on the doorstep and listen through the keyhole to what we were talking about, or look through the window at us.“His persecutions at this time became almost unbearable. He did everything he could to annoy us. I was not afraid of him, and should have taken the law into my own hands, but my husband would not hear of such a thing. He always advised me to keep quiet.“I could not stand his impudence and the way in which he went on. I had not been used to such society as his proved to be, and I rebelled against it. I can hardly describe all that he did to annoy us after he was informed that he was not wanted at our house.“He would come and stand outside the window at night and look in, leering all the while; and he would come across you at all turns and leer in your face in a manner that was truly frightful.“His object was to obtain power over me, and having done that, to make me an accomplice of his. I have told you that when I knew him first I thought him to be a picture-framer, and nothing more. Since then, however, I have learnt a good deal, and much that was difficult to understand has been made plain. He wanted me to leave my husband! Positively to leave my husband.“‘What should I do that for?’ I said.“‘If you will only go to Manchester,’ he answered, ‘I will take a store (American for shop) for you, and will spend £50 in fitting it up. You shall have a cigar store, or a picture store. You are a fine-looking woman. You look well in fine things, and I will send you fine clothes and jewellery, and if you wanted to pawn them it would be easy. The pawnbroker would think everything all right. Suppose, for instance, you had a grand pair of bracelets on, all you would have to do would be to go into the pawnbroker’s, take them off your wrist, and say, ‘I want to pawn these things.’ He also said, ‘If you will only do what I want you, there shall not be such another lady in England as you may be.’“At the time I couldn’t understand what was his object. Of course, I see it plain enough now. I did not suspect he was a burglar.“He was living at Darnall, making picture frames whenever he could get any to make, and his wife was apparently assisting to keep the house together by washing bottles at a wine and spirit merchant’s. How could I know that he was anything other than he represented himself to be?“I was suspicious. I remember on one occasion he offered me a sealskin jacket and several yards of silk. Of course, he couldn’t have come by them honestly. I now know they must have been part of the proceeds of a burglary. And well I should have looked if I had accepted them! I should then have been quite in his power.“But I knew better than that. I declined his present, and told him that if he had a sealskin jacket and some silk to spare, he had better make a present of them to his wife and daughter.“I also told him that they wanted them much more than I did, and that if I desired to have a sealskin jacket, I would wait for it until my husband bought it, and that if he couldn’t I was content to go without. Some time afterwards he offered me a gold watch; but I wouldn’t have it. That, of course, was stolen.“I consider that he offered me these presents as one means of getting me into his power. I would have nothing to do with him, and so he tempted me with sealskin jackets, and silks, and watches. I remember when he was speaking to me about Manchester, he said—“‘If you will only go, I’ll fix you up there nice. You will have a splendid business, and will live like a lady.’“‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘I always have lived like one, and shall continue to do so quite independently of you.’“I was getting downright mad with him, because of his constantly bothering me. What he wanted me to go to Manchester for was to pass off his stolen goods—at least that is my opinion. He never said so in so many words, but he could have had no other object.“To do this, he wanted first to get me in his power, and not only did he try, but other members of his family did their best. When he found that he could not succeed by fair means, then he tried what threats and persecutions would do.“He once came into my house, and said as I would not do what he wanted, he would annoy and torment me to the end of the world.“‘Don’t you ever come into my house again,’ I said, ‘or ever darken its doors.’“But it was no use my saying that. He still came whenever he could get in, and when he couldn’t, he watched for me and followed me wherever I went. I have known him to go to the railway station and say to the booking clerk after I had taken my ticket, ‘Give me a ticket for where she’s going.’ That’s how it was he followed me to Mansfield, and then came into the same house there where I and my companion were staying. That was, too, how it was that he was seen with me in the streets.“So it was as regards his being with me in the fair ground, about which so much has been made. I went to the fair with a neighbour and her children, and when we got into the photographic saloon my intention was to have the children photographed. I had no intention whatever of having myself taken with Peace, but he stood behind my chair at the time my likeness was taken.“That was quite unknown to me, though, at the time. You can have no idea, unless you know the man, how he persecuted me and attempted to get me within his power. I remember doing something in the kitchen, and my back was turned to the door. Hearing a slight noise, I turned round, and then I saw Peace standing just inside the door.“The expression on his face was something dreadful. It was almost fiendish—devilish. He had a revolver in his right hand, and he held it up towards me and said, in an excited and threatening manner—“‘Now, will you go to Manchester? Now, will you go to Manchester?’“I did not shriek, but I cried out ‘No, never! what do you take me for?’“Finding that I was firm, he dropped his hand, and went out; but I can assure you I was frightened at the time.“He had a way of creeping and crawling about, and of coming upon you suddenly unawares; and I cannot describe to you how he seemed to wriggle himself inside the door, or the terrible expression on his face.“He seemed more like an evil spirit than a man. I have told you that when we knew him first we thought him a rather nice old man; but I soon found out, after he had taken against me, that we were sadly mistaken in our impression of him.“He turned against me solely because he could not make me do as he wanted. I would not have done as he wished for anything in this world. He wanted me to be an accomplice in his doings.“That has been his endeavour all through, and because he could not succeed he turned round on me and was determined to have his revenge. He thought he could handle me as he liked, that I was a weak sort of a woman, and could be got over like others who have been associated with him; but he found he was mistaken.“I was terribly tried by him, though, and at last I was frightened—I don’t deny it. There have been times when I haven’t feared him, and when I should have thrashed him if Mr. Dyson would have allowed me.“I once did give him a good hiding, because he had insulted and annoyed me, but perhaps I had better not say much about that now. I used to be especially afraid of him at nights, because he had a habit of continually prowling about the house, and of turning up suddenly. He would, too, assume all sorts of disguises.“He used to boast how effectually he could disguise himself; and I was afraid of his coming in some guise or other at night, and carrying out his threats.“He was very determined. I never saw anything like it in my life. I have been about a good deal, but I never saw such determination and persistency as he has. It seems to me there was scarcely anything which he couldn’t accomplish if only he was determined to succeed.“He once said, ‘I never am beaten when I have made up my mind. If I make up my mind to a thing, I’m bound to have it, even if it cost me my life.’ You could not shake him off, do what you might. The only way to get rid of him was to knock him down as I once did.“Determined as he was one way, I was equally determined the other, and that was why he never succeeded with me. He once made use of this expression to me: ‘I don’t care how independent you are, I’ll get hold of you some way or other.’ But I said as firmly as I could, ‘Never!’ and so I have always said.“We went to Bannercross because we were afraid of Peace. Before going there, my husband took out a warrant against him. That was in July, 1876, and as soon as Peace knew of the warrant he left the town. It was soon after this that Mr. Dyson decided to go to Bannercross.“What became of Peace I never knew, except that I heard he had gone to Manchester. He suddenly disappeared, and I did not see him again until on the very day that our furniture was being removed to Bannercross. I and my husband saw him coming out of our new house there.“So annoyed and irritated was I at this that I really should have caught hold of him, and held him until a policeman could have been fetched. But my husband would not hear of such a thing.“Just fancy Peace coming out of the house we were going into! I really felt quite mad at it. This was on the 25th October, and I did not see him again till the night of the murder.“I didn’t really know that Peace was a burglar until after the murder. If I had he would never have entered our doors. But what I know now explains a good deal. For instance, when we were out walking together, if I happened to look into a shop window, he would say to me, ‘Is there anything there you would like? If there is I will get it for you before morning.’“He would say that if I looked into a jeweller’s or a draper’s shop. I did not know what he meant then, but I do now. My suspicions were aroused, for I used to see him leave his house at Darnall in the evenings with a little satchel under his arm, and he would come back early in the morning carrying a large bundle. The satchel, I suppose, contained his housebreaking implements. He often used to go to Manchester with this satchel. He came to my door one morning just as he was going to Manchester. He then had his satchel with him. Looking into the room where I was, he said—“‘I’ll have you alive or dead. I’ll have you, or else I’ll torment you to the end of your life.’“On another occasion, when I had defied him, he said—“‘I’ll make you so that neither man nor woman shall look at you, and then I’ll have you to myself.’“I answered, ‘Never. What can you do? What are you capable of?’“‘No matter,’ he replied, ‘I’ll do it.’“My opinion of Peace is that he was a perfect demon, not a man.”
Everybody will agree with us when we declare that Peace’s acquaintance with the Dysons is altogether incomprehensible.
How he managed to force himself upon these two persons, how he contrived to have so strong a hold on Mrs. Dyson, appears to be the strangest and most inexplicable part of his career.
He persecuted her with a pertinacity which was almost unparalleled.
Whether he was really attached to her it is not possible to say, but it must be admitted that his conduct at this time was more like that of a madman than of a rational being.
Mr. Dyson, the ill-fated gentleman who was murdered in 1876 by the miscreant Peace, was married in 1866 at Cleveland, Ohio, and took a house at Finsbury. From thence he removed to Highfield, afterwards to Heeley, and again to Darnall, and from Darnall they moved to Banner-cross-terrace.
There is just a short period of the history and phase in the existence of Mr. Arthur Dyson after his arrival in this country from America, says a fellow countryman of his, which may not be uninteresting. Soon after his arrival he made application to the resident engineer of the North-Eastern Railway Company at York for employment as a civil engineer and surveyor, and his credentials were of such a character that an engagement was entered into with him. The character of his occupation in America led to the anticipation that he would be able to find “his way about here,” and that in fact his services might prove to be of a most useful character.
On presenting himself for the purpose of commencing his duties, his personal appearance was the source of considerable curiosity and surprise amongst the remainder of the officials in the engineer’s office.
He was extremely thin and singularly tall, measuring over six feet; and he wore a low felt hat, as he afterwards explained to one of the staff, for the purpose of abstracting from his great height and from the observation which it had led to amongst those with whom he had to associate.
He cut a singular figure when engaged in his occasional duties as a draughtsman at the table which was general to the rest of the staff, and to mitigate the inconvenience which must have attended his tallness in the performance of this part of his duties, some special arrangements were made by which he might be able to keep a more upright position. Despite his great height, he is described as being as “straight as a poplar.”
The general bearing of Mr. Dyson was that of a gentleman, and whether in conversation or written communication with those around him, he never bent from this position, and, as a consequence, commanded general respect.
When he took his engagement in York, he dated from the Firs, near Rotherham, where he said that his wife was residing; and whilst he remained in the ancient city he lodged with a Mr. Waddington, of Holgate-lane.
He was engaged there for only about two months, much of the time being occupied in surveying various stations on the York and Whitby line.
He had at last been sent for this purpose to Grosmont Station, and as after his departure, as it was expected, for that place, nothing was heard of him for a fortnight, inquiry was made at Grosmont, and it was found that he had not been there.
This led to an intimation being sent to him at the address near Rotherham that his return to duty was not required, and to the termination of his engagement with the North-Eastern Railway Company.
Peculiarity was noticed about the unfortunate gentleman, which gave rise at the time to the impression that something preyed upon his mind, and he on more than one occasion, in intimating to one of his superiors a desire that he should be allowed weekly to visit his wife, hinted that he suffered from some domestic trouble.
What the nature of this domestic trouble was it is not easy to say.
Possibly it might be in some way connected with the mischievous, tormenting little rascal, Peace.
While the Dysons were at Darnall Peace was a frequent visitor at their house.
Mr. Dyson, for some considerable time after his first becoming acquainted with our hero, conceived a certain amount of partiality for him, and, in consequence of this, Peace soon became on intimate terms with both husband and wife; his connection with the latter has never been clearly established.
It is, however, quite certain that his attentions to Mrs. Dyson were most marked and persistent.
She went about with him to various places of amusement, and was with him also at the Sheffield summer fair, 1876, and also to several public-houses—this was proved at the magisterial examination.
This familiarity with Peace greatly annoyed Mr. Dyson, who was a discreet, equably-disposed, well-conducted man.
He was greatly incensed at his wife’s intimacy with our hero, and as time went on he spoke his mind pretty plainly, but Peace was not a man to be snubbed easily—he openly defied Mr. Dyson, and continued his persecutions of his erratic wife.
It is certain that for a considerable period he had a powerful hold of her—not of her affections perhaps, but her vanity was such that she continued on friendly terms with him long after her husband had expressed his dislike to the man.
One afternoon she had been with him to his brother’s public-house, where, it appears, there were singing and dancing.
She bent her steps in the direction of Darnall. Peace insisted on accompanying her, and as the pair were proceeding along they came in sight of a well-known roadside inn, with a garden in its front; here they stopped and had some refreshment.
“It’s no use your thinking of giving me the cut, old woman,” said Peace. “I’ll stick to you while I’ve life, and I’m not going to be shunted.”
“I wish you’d hold your tongue, or, at any rate, not speak so loud,” cried his companion. “I never met with such a man in all my life.”
“I am devotedly attached to you, and you know it,” whispered Peace; “and nothing in the world shall make me give you up.”
“You are talking like a fool.”
“No matter about that—I’m saying what I mean. I tell you again, I won’t be cast off. I love you too well for that. Do you hear?”
“I hear, of course; but I have a kind good husband, and must not listen to your nonsense.”
“It is not nonsense—it is the solemn truth. You don’t know what sort of man you have to deal with. I would give up everything for your sake. Can a man say fairer than that?”
“I don’t want you to give up anything for my sake. All I want is for you to keep at a respectful distance.”
“Then I won’t do anything of the sort,” cried Peace, in a fury, and making such a hideous grimace that his companion was frightened.
“I won’t—not for you or any one else,” he repeated in a louder tone.
“Do, for goodness’ sake, mind what you are saying,” murmured his companion.
“I do mind, and I hope you do also. I tell you again, I won’t give you up. We’ve been companions and friends for a long time, and it is not because your stately, mighty big fellow of a husband has taken a dislike to me that our friendship is to cease. Listen; I’ve got a good lump of money, and it will be yours if you’ll only consent to fly with me.”
The woman burst out into a loud laugh.
“Fly with you!” she exclaimed. “You must be mad to make such a proposition. No, no, my friend; I know what is right and proper.”
“I’ll make you do so,” he exclaimed, making another grimace, and regarding her with a malicious grin, which was more like that of a satyr than a human being.
He caught her by the arm, which he pinched with savage grip.
“Leave go!” she ejaculated. “What have I done that you should treat me thus?”
“I’ll never leave you, never give you up as long as I have life,” he returned.
“Oh! you tormenting man! I will not remain with you any longer.”
“You shall!” he returned quickly. You shan’t leave; I won’t let you. Don’t think to get the better of me, my lady. You shan’t go.”
Mrs. Dyson gave utterance to a faint scream, when, to the surprise of her and her pertinacious companion, Mr. Dyson came in front of the arbour in which they were seated.
“What is the matter?” he inquired. Then, for the first time, catching sight of Peace, he said, in a tone of anger—
“How is it I find you, sir, annoying my wife again?
I must request you to abstain from this unseemly conduct. If you do not, I shall take means to prevent you.”
“Shut up!” cried Peace, “and mind your own business. This is a public place, and as such, I have as much right to be here as you have. So shut up, I say.”
“You are an impertinent fellow,” said Mr. Dyson, seizing him by the collar, and dragging him forcibly from the alcove, “and deserve a thrashing.”
Peace slipped deftly from the grasp of his assailant, and retiring back for some little distance, he bent down his head, and rushed forward, making a full butt at him.
The attack was so sudden and unexpected, that Mr. Dyson fell to the ground with considerable force, and was for the space of a few minutes utterly powerless and prostrated.
One of the waiters of the establishment came to his assistance, helped him up, and there was a general expression of surprise and disgust at the cowardly action. A search was made for Peace, who had however, deemed it prudent to beat a retreat.
He was nowhere to be found.
“The contemptible, despicable little wretch!” exclaimed Mr. Dyson. “The spiteful, malicious scoundrel!”
“He is the torment of our lives, dear,” returned Mrs. Dyson. “Oh, I do wish we could find means of being rid of the ruffian.”
“I’ll get a summons against him, and punish him, as he deserves to be punished.”
“That’s the best plan, sir,” observed the landlord. “There are plenty of witnesses who can speak to the assault.”
“The man is our evil genius, I do believe,” said Mr. Dyson. “I have thought so for some time. He has been the bane of our existence, and has caused us more anxiety and trouble than I can at the present moment describe. He’s a most venomous creature.”
“He’s a reptile, that’s what he is!” cried Mrs. Dyson. “But, never mind, dear, we can take measures to bring him to justice.”
Mr. and Mrs. Dyson returned home; the former was greatly disgusted with Peace’s conduct, and upbraided his wife for having consented to be his companion. The latter offered every possible excuse, and said that it was no fault of hers, that she was afraid of him, that he was a dangerous designing man, who persecuted her in a manner which was altogether unaccountable.
In his reply to this Mr. Dyson said she must have given him some encouragement, or he never would be so pertinacious.
After a wrangle Mr. Dyson left the house and proceeded in the direction of the line where his services were required, and his wife strove to calm herself as best she could.
Evening came on, and as she sat at her toilette in one of the upstairs rooms of her domicile, she was suddenly aroused by some sand or gravel being thrown violently against the window panes of her bedroom.
She looked out and beheld Peace at the side of the house.
“What do you want now?” cried she, opening the window.
“You,” he returned, whereupon he threw a pebble stone, round which a piece of paper was wrapped, into the open casement.
“Go about your business; I will have nothing to say to you,” said Mrs. Dyson.
“Won’t you? I know better than that. Read!”
She unfolded the paper, and read its contents, which were as follows:—
“Don’t flatter yourself that you can elude me. I am here, as you see, again. Come down, or it will be worse for you.”
“Go away!” said Mrs. Dyson, looking out. “I don’t want to have any conversation with you, and I positively refuse to come down.”
“You do?” screamed Peace, making a face at her. “You refuse?”
“Most positively.”
“I’ll break into the house, and force you to hear me!” he cried, with a malicious grin. “You know enough of me that I am not likely to take such an answer. I will make you do what I wish.”
“Oh, you horrible man!”
“Horrible—am I?” He drew a revolver from his pocket. “You will make me do something horrible if you don’t mind,” he ejaculated.
“I’ll call my husband, and let him answer you,” returned Mrs. Dyson.
“Your husband, the poor fool!” said Peace, in a jeering tone. “Do you think I am to be deceived? Your husband is far away. But if he were at home it would be much the same. Come down and let me in.”
The wretched woman was so alarmed, that she went down from the upper room and opened the front door.
“For mercy’s sake, Peace, do go away—there’s a good fellow. I must not and will not have anything to say to you, after your cowardly conduct.”
He tormentingly laughed at this last observation.
He placed one arm round her shoulders, drew her towards him, and endeavoured to embrace her.
She was a powerful woman, and struggled desperately to release herself from his grasp.
A violent struggle ensued, in which Mrs. Dyson struck Peace repeatedly with her clenched fist; but his perseverance was beyond all bounds.
He fought like a demon, and his conduct, taken altogether, was like that of a perfect madman.
How long the conflict would have continued, and what would have been its issue, it is not possible to say, had it not been for the unlooked-for assistance arriving.
A policeman, who happened to be passing, attracted Mrs. Dyson’s attention. She called to him, and he at once came to the rescue.
“Take this man away,” she said.
“Do you charge him?” inquired the constable.
“No. All I want of you is to take him away. Remove him from these premises.”
“Now then, you sir,” said the officer, “move on, or I’ll lock you up.”
He gave Peace a push, which sent him reeling.
“You keep your hands to yourself, and don’t assault me,” said he, “or I’ll lodge a complaint against you; mind you that.”
“Will you go? If you don’t—well I shall know what to do.”
“You’re a big man in your own estimation, but a very little one in everybody else’s,” returned Peace, who, however, thought it best to get clear off; and so, making mocking gestures as he went along, he went his way without further ado.
It was a great relief to Mrs. Dyson when he was out of sight; but she was not at all certain about his returning shortly.
However, he did not trouble her again that night.
This attack, together with a variety of others of a similar nature, was the reason the Dysons had for leaving Darnall.
They took a house at Bannercross, to be farther removed from their tormentor.
The trouble and misery brought upon the Dysons by Peace is almost incalculable. We cannot do better than place before the reader Mrs. Dyson’s own account of her connection with the murderer of her husband:—
“When we went to Darnall,” said Mrs. Dyson, “our troubles began.
“But for our going there, Mr. Dyson would probably have been still alive, and I should have been spared all that has happened since.
“You will naturally ask how I became acquainted with Peace. It was impossible to avoid becoming acquainted with him.
“Besides, at that time I did not know the sort of man he really was. He lived the next door but one to us at Darnall, and he used generally to speak to Mr. Dyson on going in and out.
“Mr. Dyson was a gentleman, and, of course, when Peace spoke to him he used to reply.
“But Peace wasn’t content with a merely speaking acquaintance. He wanted to force himself upon us. He did all he could until he succeeded in accomplishing this.
“One of his favourite means was to place his parrots and his other birds upon a wall. He would then call our attention to them, and to what they could do, and thus get us into conversation with him.
“Introduction! you say. No, there was no introduction. He introduced himself, and would have you to talk with him whether you would or no.
“At first Mr. Dyson did not object, and Peace became a constant visitor to the house.
“He was plausibility itself. To hear him talk you would have thought him the most harmless of men. I am certain that much which he has succeeded in doing, both before and after the murder, is the result of the power which he has been able to exercise by his tongue and manner.
“Of course, when we went to Darnall we did not know what he was. To us he appeared to be simply a picture-framer in anything but good circumstances, for he had but little business to do, and his wife used to go out every morning washing bottles.
“We considered they were poor. I am, of course, now speaking of the time when we first went to live at Darnall. Mr. Dyson soon begun to tire of him. My husband had travelled much, and could converse well on many subjects.
“Peace was plausible enough, but his language was not good; in fact, he very soon began to show that he was anything but a gentleman. Mr. Dyson could not stand that; and, besides, he had seen something which disgusted him.”
“Do you mind telling me what that was?”
“Well, it was some obscene pictures, and my husband said he didn’t like a man of that kind, and wouldn’t have anything more to do with him. Besides, another thing greatly repelled Mr. Dyson. It was this. Peace wanted to take him to Sheffield to show him what he called the ‘sights of the town.’
“Mr. Dyson knew what that meant, and being, as I have said, a gentleman, he became much disgusted at Peace and annoyed that he should force his company upon us.
“My husband had been accustomed to different society. But we couldn’t get rid of him. We were bound to show him common politeness. Though he must have seen that we didn’t want his company, he forced himself upon us.
“He would, for instance, drop in just when we were sitting down to tea, and we were compelled almost to ask him to have a cup.
“His constant visits to the house at last became intolerable to us, and then it was that my husband placed his card in the garden, desiring Peace not to annoy him or his family.
“When he found that he could no longer gain access to the house, Peace became awfully impudent.
No.47.
Illustration: THE BANNERCROSS MURDERTHE BANNERCROSS MURDER—PEACE THREATENING MRS. DYSON.
THE BANNERCROSS MURDER—PEACE THREATENING MRS. DYSON.
“He would, for instance, stand on the doorstep and listen through the keyhole to what we were talking about, or look through the window at us.
“His persecutions at this time became almost unbearable. He did everything he could to annoy us. I was not afraid of him, and should have taken the law into my own hands, but my husband would not hear of such a thing. He always advised me to keep quiet.
“I could not stand his impudence and the way in which he went on. I had not been used to such society as his proved to be, and I rebelled against it. I can hardly describe all that he did to annoy us after he was informed that he was not wanted at our house.
“He would come and stand outside the window at night and look in, leering all the while; and he would come across you at all turns and leer in your face in a manner that was truly frightful.
“His object was to obtain power over me, and having done that, to make me an accomplice of his. I have told you that when I knew him first I thought him to be a picture-framer, and nothing more. Since then, however, I have learnt a good deal, and much that was difficult to understand has been made plain. He wanted me to leave my husband! Positively to leave my husband.
“‘What should I do that for?’ I said.
“‘If you will only go to Manchester,’ he answered, ‘I will take a store (American for shop) for you, and will spend £50 in fitting it up. You shall have a cigar store, or a picture store. You are a fine-looking woman. You look well in fine things, and I will send you fine clothes and jewellery, and if you wanted to pawn them it would be easy. The pawnbroker would think everything all right. Suppose, for instance, you had a grand pair of bracelets on, all you would have to do would be to go into the pawnbroker’s, take them off your wrist, and say, ‘I want to pawn these things.’ He also said, ‘If you will only do what I want you, there shall not be such another lady in England as you may be.’
“At the time I couldn’t understand what was his object. Of course, I see it plain enough now. I did not suspect he was a burglar.
“He was living at Darnall, making picture frames whenever he could get any to make, and his wife was apparently assisting to keep the house together by washing bottles at a wine and spirit merchant’s. How could I know that he was anything other than he represented himself to be?
“I was suspicious. I remember on one occasion he offered me a sealskin jacket and several yards of silk. Of course, he couldn’t have come by them honestly. I now know they must have been part of the proceeds of a burglary. And well I should have looked if I had accepted them! I should then have been quite in his power.
“But I knew better than that. I declined his present, and told him that if he had a sealskin jacket and some silk to spare, he had better make a present of them to his wife and daughter.
“I also told him that they wanted them much more than I did, and that if I desired to have a sealskin jacket, I would wait for it until my husband bought it, and that if he couldn’t I was content to go without. Some time afterwards he offered me a gold watch; but I wouldn’t have it. That, of course, was stolen.
“I consider that he offered me these presents as one means of getting me into his power. I would have nothing to do with him, and so he tempted me with sealskin jackets, and silks, and watches. I remember when he was speaking to me about Manchester, he said—
“‘If you will only go, I’ll fix you up there nice. You will have a splendid business, and will live like a lady.’
“‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘I always have lived like one, and shall continue to do so quite independently of you.’
“I was getting downright mad with him, because of his constantly bothering me. What he wanted me to go to Manchester for was to pass off his stolen goods—at least that is my opinion. He never said so in so many words, but he could have had no other object.
“To do this, he wanted first to get me in his power, and not only did he try, but other members of his family did their best. When he found that he could not succeed by fair means, then he tried what threats and persecutions would do.
“He once came into my house, and said as I would not do what he wanted, he would annoy and torment me to the end of the world.
“‘Don’t you ever come into my house again,’ I said, ‘or ever darken its doors.’
“But it was no use my saying that. He still came whenever he could get in, and when he couldn’t, he watched for me and followed me wherever I went. I have known him to go to the railway station and say to the booking clerk after I had taken my ticket, ‘Give me a ticket for where she’s going.’ That’s how it was he followed me to Mansfield, and then came into the same house there where I and my companion were staying. That was, too, how it was that he was seen with me in the streets.
“So it was as regards his being with me in the fair ground, about which so much has been made. I went to the fair with a neighbour and her children, and when we got into the photographic saloon my intention was to have the children photographed. I had no intention whatever of having myself taken with Peace, but he stood behind my chair at the time my likeness was taken.
“That was quite unknown to me, though, at the time. You can have no idea, unless you know the man, how he persecuted me and attempted to get me within his power. I remember doing something in the kitchen, and my back was turned to the door. Hearing a slight noise, I turned round, and then I saw Peace standing just inside the door.
“The expression on his face was something dreadful. It was almost fiendish—devilish. He had a revolver in his right hand, and he held it up towards me and said, in an excited and threatening manner—
“‘Now, will you go to Manchester? Now, will you go to Manchester?’
“I did not shriek, but I cried out ‘No, never! what do you take me for?’
“Finding that I was firm, he dropped his hand, and went out; but I can assure you I was frightened at the time.
“He had a way of creeping and crawling about, and of coming upon you suddenly unawares; and I cannot describe to you how he seemed to wriggle himself inside the door, or the terrible expression on his face.
“He seemed more like an evil spirit than a man. I have told you that when we knew him first we thought him a rather nice old man; but I soon found out, after he had taken against me, that we were sadly mistaken in our impression of him.
“He turned against me solely because he could not make me do as he wanted. I would not have done as he wished for anything in this world. He wanted me to be an accomplice in his doings.
“That has been his endeavour all through, and because he could not succeed he turned round on me and was determined to have his revenge. He thought he could handle me as he liked, that I was a weak sort of a woman, and could be got over like others who have been associated with him; but he found he was mistaken.
“I was terribly tried by him, though, and at last I was frightened—I don’t deny it. There have been times when I haven’t feared him, and when I should have thrashed him if Mr. Dyson would have allowed me.
“I once did give him a good hiding, because he had insulted and annoyed me, but perhaps I had better not say much about that now. I used to be especially afraid of him at nights, because he had a habit of continually prowling about the house, and of turning up suddenly. He would, too, assume all sorts of disguises.
“He used to boast how effectually he could disguise himself; and I was afraid of his coming in some guise or other at night, and carrying out his threats.
“He was very determined. I never saw anything like it in my life. I have been about a good deal, but I never saw such determination and persistency as he has. It seems to me there was scarcely anything which he couldn’t accomplish if only he was determined to succeed.
“He once said, ‘I never am beaten when I have made up my mind. If I make up my mind to a thing, I’m bound to have it, even if it cost me my life.’ You could not shake him off, do what you might. The only way to get rid of him was to knock him down as I once did.
“Determined as he was one way, I was equally determined the other, and that was why he never succeeded with me. He once made use of this expression to me: ‘I don’t care how independent you are, I’ll get hold of you some way or other.’ But I said as firmly as I could, ‘Never!’ and so I have always said.
“We went to Bannercross because we were afraid of Peace. Before going there, my husband took out a warrant against him. That was in July, 1876, and as soon as Peace knew of the warrant he left the town. It was soon after this that Mr. Dyson decided to go to Bannercross.
“What became of Peace I never knew, except that I heard he had gone to Manchester. He suddenly disappeared, and I did not see him again until on the very day that our furniture was being removed to Bannercross. I and my husband saw him coming out of our new house there.
“So annoyed and irritated was I at this that I really should have caught hold of him, and held him until a policeman could have been fetched. But my husband would not hear of such a thing.
“Just fancy Peace coming out of the house we were going into! I really felt quite mad at it. This was on the 25th October, and I did not see him again till the night of the murder.
“I didn’t really know that Peace was a burglar until after the murder. If I had he would never have entered our doors. But what I know now explains a good deal. For instance, when we were out walking together, if I happened to look into a shop window, he would say to me, ‘Is there anything there you would like? If there is I will get it for you before morning.’
“He would say that if I looked into a jeweller’s or a draper’s shop. I did not know what he meant then, but I do now. My suspicions were aroused, for I used to see him leave his house at Darnall in the evenings with a little satchel under his arm, and he would come back early in the morning carrying a large bundle. The satchel, I suppose, contained his housebreaking implements. He often used to go to Manchester with this satchel. He came to my door one morning just as he was going to Manchester. He then had his satchel with him. Looking into the room where I was, he said—
“‘I’ll have you alive or dead. I’ll have you, or else I’ll torment you to the end of your life.’
“On another occasion, when I had defied him, he said—
“‘I’ll make you so that neither man nor woman shall look at you, and then I’ll have you to myself.’
“I answered, ‘Never. What can you do? What are you capable of?’
“‘No matter,’ he replied, ‘I’ll do it.’
“My opinion of Peace is that he was a perfect demon, not a man.”