FREEMASONRY TODAY
Murder and Masonry
Bernard Williamson Investigates the Infamous Seddon Murder Case
In the sparse, hushed courtroom, the judge prepared to pronounce sentence of
death. Looking straight at the prisoner, he said; ‘We both belong to the same
Brotherhood,’ (he faltered here) ‘and though that can have no influence with
me, this is painful beyond words for me to have to say what I am saying, but our
Brotherhood does not encourage crime, it condemns it.’
This was the culmination of a
sensational trial, sensational not only
because of the nature of the crime
committed, but because it was clear that
the accused man had made an appeal for
leniency in the name of the fraternity to
the Judge, a fellow Freemason. In the
course of the trial he had signalled to the
Judge that he was in distress, and thus
was born a legend of masonic collusion
between crime and justice.
Frederick Henry Seddon was an
insurance agent and a mortgage
salesman, who had been initiated in the
Stanley Lodge No. 1325 in 1901, later
becoming a founder of Stephens Lodge,
No. 3089 but resigned from both in 1906.
In 1909 he purchased a fourteen-room
house at 63 Tollington Park, by the
Finsbury Park area close to Seven Sisters
Road in London, for the then princely
sum of £220.
The following year he made the
acquaintance of a forty-nine year old
spinster, Miss Eliza Barrow, who had
been left a legacy enabling her to have
investments in property and stocks. She
and Seddon had at least one thing in
common – they were both very mean and
difficult to get on with. She lived in
lodgings with her cousin, Mr Frank
Vonderahe, but in a conversation with
Seddon let him know that she was having
difficulties with living expenses. Miss
Barrow, who suffered from miserliness
bordering on eccentricity, did not trust
banks, and kept as much as three hundred
pounds in her rooms.
The Lodger
Seddon was not slow to see the
possibilities, and had already sized up the
advantages of having a well-heeled
spinster for a lodger, whose rent
payments could be relied on and settled
in cash. He was persuasive and
personable, and convinced her that it
would be to her advantage to come and
live with him. Accordingly, Miss Barrow
came to live at number 63 on 26 July
1910, bringing with her an adopted boy,
Ernest Grant, together with his uncle and
aunt, Mr and Mrs Hook from Edmonton.
She immediately proved to be an ideal
tenant, who kept to her rooms, only
sitting in the kitchen occasionally
chatting to the charwoman.
A few weeks went by and she seemed
to have settled in well when one morning,
out of the blue, Miss Barrow handed a
letter to the Hooks. This letter, which
was probably from Seddon, told them to
pack their things and leave the apartment.
This resulted in a furious row, which
culminated in the Hooks accusing
Seddon of trying to grab Miss Barrow’s
estate. But relations had now broken
down completely, and the Hooks left in a
most acrimonious atmosphere.
With the Hooks out of the way, the
devious Seddon seems to have
manoeuvred Miss Barrow quite cleverly.
When she expressed concerns at the
value of the investments in her
properties, Seddon was most solicitous,
and for an annuity and a remission in the
rent, offered to oversee these
investments. Early in 1911 he persuaded
Miss Barrow to sink her £3,000 capital
into an annuity which, he told her, would
provide an income of three pounds a
week for life. He made all the
arrangements himself, paying her out
each quarter in gold, but in fact the
£3,000 had gone into Seddon’s own
pocket and not to the insurance company.
The Death
In September 1911, following the
outbreak of an epidemic in the area,
possibly cholera, Miss Barrow became
very ill. The doctor was called, who
prescribed bismuth and morphine for the
complaint. On Saturday the ninth he
visited her again, and by the following
Monday she was weaker. Nevertheless,
she refused to go to hospital. She
improved slightly for a few days, but was
confined to her bed where on 13
September she made a Will dictated to
and administered by the ever-helpful
Frederick, witnessed by his relatives. At
6.15 on the morning of 14 September,
whilst being attended to by Mrs Seddon,
Miss Barrow died. Seddon went to the
doctor, who issued a death certificate
without seeing the body, claiming
overwork brought on by the prevailing
epidemic.
The very next day Seddon visited the
undertakers and arranged a cheap funeral
for £4.10s of which he pocketed 12/6d
commission. The burial took place in a
common burial plot, despite there being a
family vault in Islington, and she was
hardly cold in her grave when the Seddon
family left for Southend for a fortnights’
holiday. Shortly after Seddon’s return Mr
Frank Vonderahe, on arriving to visit his
cousin, was dumbstruck to hear of her
sudden death, and to learn that everything
had been made over to Seddon. The
Vonderahes demanded fuller
explanations, but none were forthcoming,
whereupon they voiced their suspicions
to the authorities. On 15 November 1911
Miss Barrow was exhumed and examined
by Sir William Willcox, who discovered
two grains of arsenic in the body which,
by his calculations, pointed to there being
at least five grains present at the time of
death. The inquest was adjourned on 29
November, Seddon was arrested on 4
December, and his wife six weeks later.
They were both committed for trial at the
Old Bailey in March, under Mr Justice
Bucknill.
The Trial
The trial commenced, the prosecution
lead by the Solicitor General, Sir Rufus
Issacs, who started his case by noting that
although the case lacked hard evidence,
who else in the world had anything to
gain by the death of Miss Barrow? He
tried to demonstrate that Seddon was a
devious, callous and ruthless person, who
would be perfectly capable of murder,
and who had appropriated money and
valuables belonging to Miss Barrow.
The renowned Barrister Marshall Hall
opened for the defence, trying to cast
doubt on the evidence referring to the
arsenic found in the body, which Sir
William Willcox had given. He proposed
that the amount could have been smaller
and ingested over a period of time in the
normal course of nursing, rather than in
one dose designed to kill. Seddon was
advised not to give evidence, but he
ignored this advice, and his conceited and
condescending demeanour lost him
sympathy with nearly everyone in the
courtroom.
When Mrs Seddon went into the
witness box, the image she presented
was of a woman whose passage through
life had made of her a drudge. She
looked much older than her 34 years of
age, and one commentator wrote; ‘The
impression that she gave was that she
didn’t know why she was there, and that
she neither attempted to seek her way out
nor evade dangerous questions. I think
this is what really saved her. As Mr
Justice Bucknill summed up he left the
jury a loophole for her by saying “I
should be astonished if you do not acquit
her.”’
Seddon himself had proved to be his
own worst enemy, and by giving
evidence had provided the prosecution
with their best witness.
It took the jury one hour to find
Frederick Seddon guilty and acquit his
wife. On hearing the word ‘guilty’,
Seddon turned pale but was unmoved.
On hearing that his wife was free he
kissed her, and with that he finally earned
the sympathy of those present in the
courtroom, but of course by then it was
too late.
The Sentence
Before sentence was passed, Seddon
was asked if he had anything to say, and
according to the records gave ‘a carefully
and well prepared speech, during which
he appealed to the judge, as a brother
Mason, for a reversal of the jury’s
finding’. Bucknill suddenly looked
utterly bewildered, and staring straight at
Seddon, broke down completely.
Seddon concluded his speech with the
words; ‘I declare before the great
Architect of the Universe I am not guilty’
and at this point he raised his arm and
gave a Masonic sign.
The report continues ‘The silence
which followed these most unusual
events was total and seemed to last
forever when ... Mr Justice Bucknill, in
a stilted and emotional manner,
pronounced sentence of death’. When,
some half an hour after the Court had
been cleared, the Clerk to the Court went
to meet the Judge in his chambers, he
found that Justice Bucknill, fully robed,
was sitting at his table and ‘his eyes were
red with weeping’.
No reprieve came and Seddon was
hanged by John Ellis and Thomas
Pierrepoint at Pentonville Prison, just a
short walk from his home, on 18 April
1912 with over 7,000 people assembled
outside.
The crowd would undoubtedly have
been larger, were it not for the fact that
news of the sinking of the Titanic three
days earlier was uppermost on
everybody’s mind.
Bernard Williamson is a freelance journalist, and
an initiate of Strong Man Lodge, No. 45. He is a
founder member of the Goose and Gridiron
Society, an organisation researching masonic
inns and taverns, has written several papers on
masonic subjects and had papers published in the
transactions of Quatuor Coronati Lodge. He
lives in a quiet village in Essex, where he devotes
his time to masonic research.
Issue 25, Summer 2003
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