Part 2

Whitehead and his accomplices had opened premises as a stationer's shop. Colonel Majendie, in company with Dr. Dupré, found that at the back they were carrying on a snug little business in the manufacture of the most deadly explosive. In a copper was a quantity of sulphuric acid, with nitro-glycerine floating on the top. The experts carefully skimmed the nitro-glycerine off, when they were faced with a still more serious trouble. In another room they discovered a large number of carboys, one of which contained no less than 170lb. of nitro-glycerine. It was by no means pure, and the question arose, What was to be done? Colonel Majendie and Dr. Dupré were forced to go down to Liverpool that night to give evidence. The nitro-glycerine they dared not remove as it was. If it were left it might possibly explode--while if the discovery were announced it would cause a fearful scare.

It was decided to get a large quantity of ice and pack it round the explosive in order to keep it as cold as possible. So with this terrible load on their minds the experts left for Liverpool, and returned to find that they had done the right thing. They had kept down the temperature sufficiently to ensure the safety of the nitro-glycerine. With the aid of kieselguhr--an infusorial earth of a very porous character and the inert ingredient of dynamite, and considered by Mr. Alfred Nobel the best vehicle to use as an absorbent of nitro-glycerine--the experts caused the nitro-glycerine to be made into dynamite. It was conveyed to an isolated site near Birmingham, spread out on a tract of land, burnt, and so got rid of.

The occupier of the "stationer's" shop and others were subsequently convicted and sentenced to penal servitude for life.

October of 1883 brought about two explosions--both on the Metropolitan Railway. The first of these occurred between Charing Cross and Westminster, fortunately resulting in no personal or serious structural injury. That, however, on the same night at Praed Street resulted in three carriages being practically smashed, whilst sixty-two persons were injured by the broken glass and _débris_. An important discovery was made on the 16th January, 1884, of some slabs of Atlas Powder of American make in Primrose Hill Tunnel, and it is surmised that these were thrown away by a conspirator as being of no use for the moment, seeing that it is probable that everything was cut and dried for the somewhat alarming events which occurred in the following month--a quartette of attempted outrages at four London stations, one of which was tolerably successful. On the 26th February, 1884, an explosion occurred in the cloak-room of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway at Victoria Station (Fig. 12); whilst on the 27th February, 28th February, and 1st March, discoveries of bags containing Atlas Powder, with clockwork and detonators, were made at Charing Cross, Paddington, and Ludgate Hill stations respectively.

In all these cases the clock was used--and that here reproduced is the one found at Paddington--which was left in various cloak-rooms in a portmanteau. The authorities were for the moment at a loss to discover how the explosion occurred, until the police communicated the fact that a portmanteau had been seized at Charing Cross Station.

The following extract from the official report will be read with interest, seeing that it also describes how an infernal machine of the clockwork pattern works:--

"The portmanteau, which had been deposited between 7 and 9 p.m. on Monday, the 25th February, was fastened with two straps and was not locked. On being opened it was found to contain some packages or slabs of a peculiar description, and the searcher at once reported the matter to the police, who rightly concluded that the slabs were probably an explosive of the dynamite order. The police caused the portmanteau to be at once conveyed to the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, and a telegram was sent requesting our attendance.

"An examination of the portmanteau showed that it contained (in addition to one or two rather worthless articles of clothing) forty-five slabs of the material which had excited suspicion. They consisted each of a paraffined paper packet 6 in. by 3 in. by 1/2 in. (thick), containing a substance which proved to be a description of lignin-dynamite not used or licensed for use in or importation into this country, but largely manufactured and employed for industrial purposes in America. Each packet had the words 'Atlas Powder A' printed on it, and was open at one end, and weighed rather under half a pound. The packets were carefully packed into one side or compartment of the portmanteau and surrounding what proved to be a box of tinned iron, measuring 6 in. by 5 in. by 5 in., and having the exterior lacquered yellow. The box had a hinged lid and the junction of the lid and box was roughly luted with a material of the character of cobbler's wax.

"We proceeded to remove the box and to open it with suitable precautions. In the interior was a circular American alarum clock, face uppermost, and with the alarum bell removed. The clock subsequently proved to be one made by the Ansonia Clock Company of New York, and of the pattern designated by them 'Peep of Day.' These clocks can be readily purchased retail in London for 10s., or even less. On taking out the clock and turning it over we found that the metal back had been removed, and that a small nickel-plated vest-pocket pistol (the woodwork of the stock of which had been removed) was fastened by means of copper wire to the movement, and the winding handle of the clock had been turned down and so fixed (also by copper wire) that when the alarum ran down one end of the handle, as it travelled round, would impinge upon the trigger and fire the pistol. This, in fact, had actually been accomplished so far as the impact of the winder and trigger was concerned, the trigger had been pulled, and the hammer of the pistol was resting upon the copper rim-fire cartridge with which the pistol was loaded, and which, on being extracted, proved to have missed fire. The alarum was set to run off at 12 (at which hour the pistol hammer had presumably fallen); the clock itself had stopped at about 4.14.

"Opposite to the muzzle of the pistol, inside the tin box and resting against it, was the greater portion of one of the slabs of 'Atlas Powder,' into which, immediately opposite to the pistol's mouth, were embedded seven powerful detonators, mouths outermost, and by way of further insuring the action of the machine a piece of ordinary quick-match had been bent into several of the detonators, which, on examination, proved to contain an exceptionally heavy charge (over 13 grains) of fulminate of mercury and chlorate of potash.

"This slab was intended to act as the primer, and its function would be to produce (through the agency of the detonators) an initial explosion by means of which the mass of dynamite with which the tin box was surrounded would be exploded.

"It may be interesting to note that the use of a clockwork apparatus as a means of effecting a deferred explosion is no novelty. Thus the idea was applied in the infernal machines which were surreptitiously imported into Liverpool from America in 1881, and Thomas's machine, which exploded with such terrible effect at Bremerhaven on December 11, 1875, was fired by a similar agency. There exists also in the Museum of Artillery at the Rotunda, Woolwich, a model of a clockwork apparatus attached to a flint lock for firing a submarine mine or torpedo, which was designed by Sir William Congreve, probably in the early part of the present century. But the particular combination adopted in the present instance is, so far as our knowledge goes, original."

After Colonel Majendie had seen this clock he was enabled to attach a special significance to a piece of metal which he found in the _débris_ at Victoria Station, and which proved to be a particle of steel spring. This is an admirable example of the usefulness of the magnet, which is always employed when searching _débris_. It is a curious fact that the Charing Cross clock went off, that the trigger of the pistol was released, but the cartridge had not exploded. On dissecting the cartridge, it was found that the fulminate had been omitted from the particular part of the rim on which the trigger had fallen. At Paddington the hammer had also fallen, but the cartridge did not go off. Upon testing a score of these cartridges nine went off at once, six did not explode until the vital part was touched by the trigger, and five refused to explode at all.

A still more remarkable circumstance associated with the Paddington discovery must be recorded. When the clock was found it was ticking away merrily (Fig. 13). The dynamite had not exploded owing to the fact that the winder had caught against a little knob which failed to release it.

Colonel Ford expressed a desire to take the clock home with him to show it to his wife. On his way, the jolting of the cab was sufficient to partially release the winder, and the hammer of the pistol descended during the night. Of course, the cartridge and dynamite had been previously removed by the Inspectors.

Before referring at length to the next important event in the history of dynamiters for the year 1884, we would remind the reader that we have only dealt in detail with two types of infernal machine: the clock system, which may be set in advance to act some hours later; and the burning fuse, which was employed in some of the earlier explosions alluded to. The infernal machine found at Cork and preserved at New Scotland Yard shows this method of working very clearly (Fig. 14). It is a wooden box about a foot square and separated into divisions. One compartment is fitted with clockwork, to which a fuse is attached and which passes through to the other part of the box filled with gunpowder. This box would hold about 8lb. of powder. When the lid is removed the clockwork starts, the fuse is fired, and the gunpowder explodes. A fuse is a series of strands of hemp with a column of gunpowder running through. There are many varieties, and every manufacturer has a special mark on the fuse he makes, so that the authorities can always trace it. We lit a fuse and found that it burnt at the rate of a yard a minute; it can, therefore, easily be adjusted to any time required.

We now, however, come to the most deadly of all weapons used by dynamiters--the bomb, which explodes instantly on falling. These bombs--as the shrapnel shell, used in artillery--can only be designed for one purpose, the destruction of human life: they are essentially man-killing infernal machines. On April 11th, 1884, three metal bombs, containing dynamite, were found in the possession of Daly, at Birkenhead, who was subsequently sentenced to penal servitude for life.

The old-fashioned bomb was of a shape resembling an egg, with nipples like gun nipples and percussion caps. It was weighted at one end to insure its falling on the point intended. The Barcelona bomb was spherical, but similarly fitted with nipples. This is the Orsini type.

But the Daly bomb was a far more delicate piece of mechanism. Inside the bomb was a little bottle containing sulphuric acid with a small piece of lead, so that when the bomb was thrown the weight of the lead caused the bottle to break and the acid came in contact with a composition, which immediately ignited. This ignition fired a detonator, which in turn fired the dynamite. Although the various moves in the interior of the Daly bomb were many, yet we were assured by Colonel Majendie that in some experiments he made, from the moment the bomb struck the ground to its explosion there was no appreciable interval of time. The deadly wrecking powers of this bomb were proved by Colonel Majendie at the trial of Daly. The Colonel took a bomb and exploded it in an iron room, which is used for testing shells at Woolwich. A dozen dummy wooden figures--of the size of living men--were placed round the apartment. The bomb was exploded by electricity, and the twelve figures received no fewer than one hundred and sixty-eight wounds!

The relics of the Daly case, at New Scotland Yard, are amongst the most treasured of such items in the possession of the police. Some of them are reproduced here. There is the bomb (Fig. 15), and a very formidable weapon it appears, though it would easily fit in an overcoat pocket; the written instructions found on Daly are fairly legible (Fig. 16), though in the case of one or two words the sulphuric acid has partially obliterated several of the letters. However, its intention is sufficiently intelligible. Furthermore, there are set out a number of pieces of metal--any of which would be capable of killing a man--which were extracted from some of the dummy figures experimented on at Woolwich (Fig. 17).

It should be stated that Daly, at his trial, suggested that these bombs might be used for killing fish.

"Yes," said Colonel Majendie pointing to those found on Daly; "but nobody would care to fish with those."

In this same year--1884--no fewer than three explosions occurred on the night of the 30th May, whilst on the same evening a bag was found in Trafalgar Square containing Atlas Powder, with fuse and detonators. The first was at the Junior Carlton Club, St. James's Square, where about fourteen persons were injured. The second--which occurred about fifteen seconds after that at the Junior Carlton--at the residence of Sir Watkin Williams-Wynn, St. James's Square (Fig. 18), which the perpetrators evidently mistook for a part of the Intelligence Office. It is probable that the charge used was thrown over the area railings, but it accidentally lodged in a window recess of the morning room, where the most serious effects of the explosion were felt, although the windows of the house were much shattered. As the official report states:--

"Although a party were assembled in the morning-room at the time the explosion occurred, they fortunately escaped injury with the exception of one lady, who had her hand slightly cut by some broken glass. This remarkable escape (as it must appear to anyone who had an opportunity of examining the room before the _débris_ had been disturbed, or who has seen the photographs of this room) can only be attributed to the fact that the party did not happen to be seated directly opposite to the window under which the explosion occurred, but rather in the other part of the room, where they were to some extent sheltered from the effects (Fig. 19). Two servants who were standing on the front doorstep were also injured, one of them somewhat severely, making a total, so far as is known, of three persons injured by this explosion."

The third explosion of this eventful night took place at 9.20 p.m., at Old Scotland Yard. The charge was placed outside a room used by some of the detective staff. The explosion brought down a portion of the building, doing considerable damage to some carriages standing there at the time and to neighbouring buildings, and injuring several persons (Figs. 20 and 21).

The last explosion of 1884 was on December 13th, and took the form of a considerable charge of dynamite or other nitro-compound under London Bridge. Very little damage was done, but there is no reasonable doubt that the perpetrators of this deed were themselves killed, and Colonel Majendie found what he believed to be the remains of a human being who was blown up with the boat employed in the transaction. Curiously enough, just previous to this outrage, circumstances led the authorities to believe that some of the bridges which span the Thames required special protection, and Her Majesty's Chief Inspector of Explosives was directed to visit them, and advise as to the precautions to be taken. Colonel Majendie found that London Bridge contained certain gully holes which were used for the purpose of draining out water. These gully holes possessed peculiar advantages for the secretion of an infernal machine. Accordingly, upon Colonel Majendie's recommendation, strong iron bars were placed over these holes, so that it was impossible to place the dynamite in the required position. The would-be perpetrators--and there were three of them--bungled so much that, as has already been hinted, little damage was done save to themselves. The facsimile of the bent bars and hooks (Fig. 22), much reduced, will give a good idea of the force of the explosive used on this occasion, and some idea of what the effects upon the bridge would have been if the bars had not been affixed and the charge had acted within the gully hole.

The last of the three bad years was 1885, in which year a brass tube or fuse for firing nitro-glycerine compound was found at Liverpool (Fig. 23): a very ingenious contrivance (here reproduced), in which sulphuric acid is used, the time at which the acid will act being governed by the number of folds of paper stuffed round the hole allowing the fluid to escape through, and so firing a detonator in conjunction with the explosive proper. Similar tubes had undoubtedly been used at Glasgow, at the Local Government Board Explosion, and at the _Times_ office.

Again came a trio of events. On the 24th January, 1885, an explosion occurred at the Tower of London, doing serious damage--scattering the stands of arms and playing great havoc with other implements of warfare. Great was the wreckage in the old Banqueting Hall (Fig. 24). There is every reason for the belief that the man who introduced the explosive did so in an apron fitted with pockets and worn under his greatcoat. On the same night a charge of Atlas Powder, similar to that used at the Tower, created no small havoc in Westminster Hall; while the third explosion was the well-remembered event at the House of Commons. Fortunately, the House was not sitting at the time. The Strangers' and Peers' Galleries were severely injured, and to give an idea of the wreckage, the Estimates of the following year provided a sum of £6,125 for repair of damage done to the House of Commons, and £2,500 for Westminster Hall. Two men were convicted and sentenced to penal servitude for life.

We give a reproduction of the Salisbury infernal machine discovered in this year--a machine of exceptionally rough make (Fig. 25). A series of minor events had taken place in Wiltshire and Hampshire, which caused the police some trouble for a couple of years. They were not believed to be of any political significance, but done simply out of pure mischief. Still, this sort of fun does not pay, as the two ringleaders found when they were sentenced at the Salisbury Assizes to twelve and two months' hard labour respectively.

The year 1886 was fairly clear; but 1887 brought about the discovery of a conspiracy between Callan and Harkins to commit an outrage by means of dynamite. The police found at 24, Brixton Road, some 28lb. of explosive in the dust-bin and garden, which had been left as a legacy to Callan. Callan's empty portmanteau--also left him by the same person who bequeathed him the dynamite, a man named Cohen--condemned him, for on a microscopical examination by Dr. Dupré and the Government Inspectors, the tell-tale kieselguhr was found.

There was little of serious moment in 1888. The most important event of this kind in 1889 was on November 18th, when an effort was made to blow up the police and bailiffs engaged in carrying out evictions on Lord Clanricarde's estate in Co. Galway. The charge was intended to be exploded under the ground, and 25lb. of powder was to be used. The mine was to be actuated by opening a door. As the officials entered--the door having a string connecting it with the machine in use--the mine would be exploded. Happily, it failed to go off. The infernal machine used on this occasion was of a type to be found amongst the accompanying illustrations--showing a knife and string, the knife cutting the cord and releasing the trigger of a small pistol, which was designed to fire the necessary detonator.

There is little to note in the two following years until 1892, when March 24th brought about the conviction of persons at Walsall who were in possession of explosives which could only be used for a wrongful purpose. The sample of bombs shown (Fig. 26) was photographed from those which convicted the prisoners, and which are now at New Scotland Yard.

On Christmas Eve, 1892, an infernal machine exploded outside the Detective Office, Exchange Court, Dublin, which resulted in the death of poor Sinnott. As he was proceeding to the office he saw a parcel. It is probable that he examined it--not kicking it, but handling it--for one of his fingers was blown into an upper window. Only a very small charge was used--about a pound--but it did some damage and cost a life.

The last two events of any importance at the time of writing were the explosion at the Four Courts, Dublin, in May, 1893, which Colonel Ford investigated, and considered very similar to that of the previous Christmas Eve; and that at the Aldboro' Barracks, Dublin, towards the end of last November.

I.

"Nothing more to-night, thank you, Robert; I shall require nothing more, except to be left alone."

"Very well, sir."

The old servitor withdrew, and Arthur Dalziel threw himself into his lounging chair with a weary look in his eyes. For a long time he gazed into the fire, muttering now and then between his teeth: "If--yet, no, it is impossible, impossible! Yes, Arthur, my boy, you'd have to give it all up, lands, position, prospect of a title--that London life you love so much--and go back to dreary Scotch law. But you're a fool to think of such things, a confounded fool!"

He rose, and going to a side table poured out a glass of wine, which he drained hastily.

The wine seemed to relieve him of his disturbing thoughts. He glanced more cheerfully round his luxurious sanctum--half library, half music-room--and strolled up to the piano, where he stood carelessly fingering the keys.

One or two chance chords evidently awoke some old memories of half-forgotten melody, for he turned to a canterbury and searched among the heterogeneous mass of music it contained. Music is somehow always hard to find, but at length Dalziel drew out a single leaf of faded manuscript, which he set on the stand and, seating himself, began to play.