The Plumstead Tragedy

Victorian justice is often thought to have been swift, harsh, and unforgiving. While this was generally true, with murder convictions usually resulting in an execution, there were occasional cases where killers received surprisingly light sentences. In this case from 1890, a 20-year-old machinist named Walter James Lyons was spared the noose on the grounds that his anger had been kindled by his mother’s actions, a decision which offers insight into the behaviours that people of the time considered sufficient provocation to justify violence.

Ellen and Walter Lyons of Conway Road

Walter James Lyons was a slightly built, morose young man, who lived with his Irish-born mother Ellen and younger brother William in a small, terraced house at 32 Conway Road, Plumstead in southeast London, which the family shared with two paying lodgers. Walter’s father had died four months ago, leaving Ellen a widow. The etiquette and duration of grief in Victorian times were socially prescribed, with mourning trends inspired by Queen Victoria’s decision to wear black for the rest of her life after the death of Prince Albert. Widows, for example, were generally expected to mourn their husbands for a minimum of one year and one day, although interestingly, a man was only expected to mourn his wife for three to six months. While this mourning period was most visibly observed in middle- and upper-class families, working class people were also expected to adhere to certain behaviours and dress codes after the death of a loved one.

On a pleasant Friday afternoon in September 1890, Ellen Lyons decided to go and enjoy watching soldiers playing military sports on Woolwich Common, in contravention of these social expectations.  There, she was introduced to John Stewart, a well-built Quartermaster Sergeant of the 51^st Royal Artillery Battery. The pair spent the afternoon together and afterwards, Ellen invited him back to her home.

Around lunchtime the next day, on Saturday 13^th September, Walter wondered why his mother had not yet risen. When he opened her bedroom door to check if she was alright, he was horrified to find her in bed with the military man.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded. His mother calmly replied that she would be marrying John Stewart the next day and they planned to travel to India for their honeymoon. Noting Walter’s discomfort, Sergeant Stewart condescendingly challenged the young man, ‘Are you the master of this house? Or is your mistress here?’. He patted Ellen’s leg as he spoke, the gesture only serving to inflame Walter’s anger. Ellen told her son to leave them alone, but he refused. ‘I will not go out of the room,’ he bellowed, not caring that his words were overheard by one of their lodgers. He thew insults at Ellen, calling her a ‘bloody cow’ and a ‘bitch’, before screaming, ‘Would you like to come home and find a man in bed with your mother?’

‘No,’ Sergeant Stewart replied mildly, though it wasn’t entirely clear to whom the question had been addressed. But the man’s calm demeanour had no effect on the 20-year-old, who continued to rant and rave, threatening to cut Stewart’s head off. He ran into the kitchen, where he was heard rummaging frantically through the drawers and cupboards. Fearing that Walter might be arming himself with a kitchen knife, Ellen Lyons and Sergeant Stewart quickly got dressed. When the angry son returned, they were relieved to see he was wielding only a small hammer, which he brandished at the soldier. Stewart laughed, unconcerned, telling the boy that he had fought in real battles and could easily knock Walter down. Lodger Edwin Phillimore would later report that Stewart warned him, ‘I could kill you with one blow.’

Murder at Conway Road

Seething with fury, Walter stormed back to the kitchen. Sensing the growing tension, his mother felt it would be best to usher her boyfriend out of the house, so the pair walked hurriedly away towards the corner of Conway Road and Griffin Road, where a building site for a new Catholic church was underway. Moments later, they heard running footsteps behind them, and Walter emerged from around the corner, wielding a butcher’s knife and wearing the look of a man who had taken leave of his senses. As he ran past his mother, she tried to stop him by grabbing his coat tails, but only succeeded in tearing his jacket, falling backwards with the fabric clutched in her hands. With an indecipherable yell, Walter flung himself at the soldier, stabbing him so hard with the knife that it penetrated 9” deep, nearly cleaving his heart in two. Distraught, Ellen Lyons bent down to comfort the man, unbuttoning his tunic and desperately trying to stem the bleeding, but he had already died, his life extinguished almost instantly at the moment of impact.

Two witnesses stood numbly on the street, having been drawn to the scene by Walter’s shouts of rage, arriving just in time to see him viciously stab the soldier. Walter turned to one of them and, his anger now having left him, placidly said, ‘I have done what I intended to do. Call a policeman.’ When two constables arrived on the scene, Walter willingly handed over the knife and announced simply, ‘Take me, I know my doom.’ At Woolwich Police Station, he made a full statement, making no attempt to lessen his responsibility.

Public Outrage and the Coroner’s Inquest

The coroner’s inquest was held at Plumstead Workhouse on Tuesday 16 September, and suspecting that public opinion would be against her, Mrs Ellen Lyons arrived three hours early to avoid the rowdy crowds that would flock to watch the proceedings. Ellen told the coroner that her son Walter was subject to fits of passion and that several of his father’s relatives were in lunatic asylums, but it was clear that she felt personally accountable for the incident. The Illustrated Police News reported, ‘She is deeply grieved for the consequences of her folly and takes all the blame, without reservation, upon herself. So slight was her acquaintance with the murdered man that she could not at first say whether his name was Stewart or Sheppard.’ The jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against Walter James Lyons, but expressed hope that the judge would be merciful. The public vehemently agreed that Ellen was to blame and seemed to endorse the killing, applauding Lyons while booing and hooting at his mother, who, given the mood of the crowd, might have been lynched had she not been under police protection.

The Old Bailey Trial of Walter Lyons

Walter Lyons was charged at Woolwich Police Court on Saturday 20 September, his pale face reflecting a painful awareness of the gravity of his situation. A month later, he stood trial at the Old Bailey before Justice Stephens, defended by Gerald Geoghegan. Geoghegan was known to be an alcoholic and would later commit suicide in his chambers in 1902 by taking an overdose of an opioid sedative. Nonetheless, he proved a formidable counsel for Lyons, reminding the jury that the law was made for the man, not the man for the law, and that an English jury’s duty was to be kind and merciful. He used emotive language to mitigate the crime, arguing, ‘Nothing could exaggerate the nauseous horror of tragedy. The mother dishonoured and degraded her late husband’s memory and disgraced her living son’s fame.’

In his summing up, Justice Stephens agreed that speaking as a human being, not a judge, he felt the provocation given by the mother was as great as could possibly have been given to a son. He remarked that although this was as deliberate and vicious an act as he had ever seen, the behaviour of Ellen Lyons was disgraceful and was undoubtedly the cause of Walter’s violent outburst.

The jury found Walter Lyons guilty of manslaughter with a recommendation to mercy due to his youth, and he was sentenced to seven years’ penal servitude. The Illustrated Police News ran the story for three consecutive weeks, capitalising on the public’s ghoulish fascination with the case. There was next to no sympathy for the victim, and it seemed that in the eyes of the population, Ellen’s decision to enter into a new relationship just months after her husband’s death was a crime far worse than murder, and young Walter, on finding his mother in bed with another man, had only done what any son in his right mind would have.

What Became of Walter and Ellen Lyons?

Ellen Lyons continued to live with her younger son, William, and worked as a laundress, presumably leading a quiet life as she made no further appearances in the newspapers. When Walter Lyons was released from prison, he secured work as an engineer – a notably prestigious role for an ex-convict. He married a local girl named Annie Rickwood and the couple settled in Hammersmith, later having a daughter named Ethel Maud, who became a dressmaker’s apprentice. It is unclear whether Walter ever reconciled with his mother, and he died in 1929 at the age of 58.

Researched and written by Prash Ganendran
© Prash Ganendran. All Rights Reserved.

Video documentary version of this case

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Sources

Ancestry
Gloucester Citizen – Tuesday 16 September 1890
Nottingham Evening Post – Tuesday 16 September 1890
Cheltenham Chronicle – Saturday 20 September 1890
Dorking and Leatherhead Advertiser – Saturday 27 September 1890
London Evening Standard – Friday 24 October 1890

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