Murder mystery of Warwickshire Police officer which went unsolved
THE George and Dragon wasn’t a bad place to be on duty, especially on a chilly winter’s day. Set right beside the canal wharf in the Warwickshire village of Fenny Compton, it was a popular watering hole, better known to locals as the Wharf Inn, for obvious reasons. Police Constable William Hine arrived mid-morning on Monday, 15th February 1886, with orders from his superiors to keep a discreet look-out for any trouble at the cattle sale being held there. But the day proved to be uneventful.
After waiting to see the last customer off the premises, he said goodbye to landlord Joseph Hardman, and about 10pm set off to walk the mile back to his cottage and waiting family. By midnight, he had not returned home.
The next morning, when there was still no news of him, a team of police officers began to search the fields and surroundings of the pub with its wharf buildings, boathouse and stabling, while men positioned on both banks of the canal with long ropes began systematically dragging the water in 2ft sections. Eventually, on Saturday night, a large pocket-knife was found lying in a ditch hidden under a thick bramble hedge. The weapon had two blades – one was open and smeared with congealed blood. Six feet away, near a footpath, they found spots of blood and signs of a violent struggle. Seven yards further on, a police helmet with a long dent across it was lying on the ground. Superintendent George Hinde went to break the bad news to Emily Hine, who identified the bloodstained knife as her husband’s and then fainted from the shock.
Reinforcements from other Warwickshire Police divisions soon joined a full-scale hunt for the missing constable, together with villagers and labourers who combed coppices, canal banks, reservoirs and bye-lanes. Plain-clothes officers searched several cottages in Fenny Compton, examining the householders’ clothes and bedding. A pair of well-trained bloodhounds, loaned by Mr Gibbins of Ettington, were taken out to investigate a clue discovered at Priors Hardwick, but by this time the scent had gone cold. There was no trace of the murdered man or the murderers, and with no fresh leads to investigate, police confessed they were baffled.
Gossip was now running wild in the neighbourhood. A coachman recalled hearing a horse and trap driven through a nearby village at a mad pace at 11pm on the previous Monday night. Locals knew of a hovel sheltering fowls in the field where traces of blood were discovered, and rumour had it that a gang of fowl-stealers were the most likely suspects and must have killed PC Hine when he disturbed them.
Press interest in the murder mystery spread rapidly, with reports appearing in the London Evening Standard and Pall Mall Gazette, among many others. The Birmingham Daily Post despatched someone for an exclusive interview with William Hine’s parents at their home in Shottery to get the full story. The couple were more than willing to co-operate. Mr Hine was a shepherd at Shottery Farm and explained that their 30-year-old son worked as a labourer in the village before joining Warwickshire Constabulary six years earlier, initially serving at Henley. Later, he was stationed at Shipston where he narrowly escaped with his life when two notorious poachers savagely attacked him with a shovel. Since then, William had feared they would come after him for revenge. About ten months ago, he was posted to Fenny Compton, and recently told a friend, ‘You may depend upon it they mean to do for me some time; that will be my end’.
Finally, nine days after PC Hine disappeared, the drag lines being deployed by the search party on the Oxford Canal snagged on something submerged beneath the water at a bend a quarter of a mile from the pub. The hooks of the drags had caught on his greatcoat and brought the body to the surface, fully clothed in a police uniform, plastered with mud, the left trouser leg torn. Both hands were tightly clenched, and his face was covered with blood.
In the stables of the Wharf Inn, Dr Elkington carried out a post-mortem examination and found abrasions on the fingers of the left hand, a large bruise on the left ankle, marks of a blow to the forehead, and a deep cut to the jugular vein.
Speaking later at the inquest, he said: “My opinion is that the wound in the neck was alone the cause of death, and there is no reason to suppose that wound was self-inflicted. The concussion of the brain was sufficient to cause unconsciousness. The wound could not have been inflicted while the man was in a standing position, and it also appeared as though the head had been held whilst the blood drained away.”
Top brass from Warwickshire Police, including Chief Constable Robert Kinchant (who, a few years later, fled to India to escape bankruptcy), attended the inquest at the Wharf Inn, which was crowded with spectators for the occasion. Among the witnesses was Superintendent George Hinde, who described how he had searched the body after it was brought out of the water and retrieved PC Hine’s staff, handcuffs and whistle, together with a pocket-book from the breast pocket that was quite dry but did not contain any notes, which may have been helpful in the case. He also found a few small coins, a Co-operative cheque for threepence and a watch in the left waistcoat pocket which had stopped at six minutes past 11.
Supt Hinde said he last saw the deceased officer on Friday, 12th February, when he made no complaint and did not say he was dissatisfied with his position in the force: “He never said anything which would lead me to suppose he was likely to commit suicide – quite the reverse. He was particularly happy with his wife, and in very comfortable circumstances.” He was a very provident, careful man with a £30 deposit in the bank, and was a trusted officer with an excellent conduct record. “I specially recommended him to Fenny Compton, where special care was necessary.”
One potential suspect seemed to be unemployed farmer William Albert Kingerise, who was called to give evidence at the request of Supt Hinde and was examined at length. He admitted that he left the Wharf Inn at ten o’clock on the Monday night, but could not state positively what time he arrived home in the village. Nothing could be proved, and at the end of the inquest the jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown.
The Police Illustrated News ran a full report with a photograph of the dead officer and said there was no doubt he was brutally murdered, though robbery was obviously not the motive. The body was discovered halfway between the public house and PC Hine’s cottage. From the nature of the injuries, it appeared he was attacked unawares, as his whistle and staff remained inside his pockets. It was most likely that an unexpected severe kick brought him to the ground, where he was struck on the head with a blunt instrument, stabbed in the neck and thrown into the canal at exactly 11.06pm – a time which could be fixed from the officer’s stopped watch. In the absence of any conclusive evidence, it was just guesswork, of course. And despite a thorough investigation, the case was never solved.
A large deputation of officers from Warwickshire was present at PC Hine’s funeral on 1st March, which went ahead in heavy snow. More than £800 was collected on behalf of his widow and three young children, which was paid out to them at £1 a week.
He was the first man in the county’s force to be killed on duty, but police work everywhere was dangerous, and violent attacks by drunken rowdies or suspects resisting arrest were all too common. By the 1890s, almost a quarter of prosecutions for assault were offences against the police.
In addition to the natural hazards of the job, it entailed long hours on the beat for low pay, harsh discipline enforced by superiors, with dismissal or fines, and until 1887, policemen were not even allowed to vote – a rule intended to prevent political bias. Although the job had its downsides, plenty of young men were attracted to steady employment with a free uniform and boot allowance, which offered excitement, promotion prospects and a more satisfying alternative to the drudgery of factories or farm labour.
Patrolling isolated rural areas had its risks, as PC Hine was well aware. Poachers posed a particular threat and their violent skirmishes with gamekeepers, farmers or police officers were regular occurrences. The game laws provoked widespread hostility in the countryside, especially after the Poaching Prevention Act authorised police to stop and search likely suspects or anyone carrying a gun, snares or nets. Villagers complained that police used these powers without reasonable grounds for suspicion.
However, trying to catch poachers often led to fruitless games of hide and seek, which were never going to deter persistent offenders who wanted fresh meat for the pot.
Author Susan Law, a social historian, journalist and canal volunteer, has spent two years researching the book which covers more than 100 19th century crimes.
For details of he tutoring/mentoring workshops for writers of local and family history, email suelawhistory@btinternet.com.
Copyright Susan C Law 2023.
