Lorna Poplak

Ontario

FARE AND FOUL: A Christmas Nightmare in Six Parts – Part 1

Part 1: The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time? 

The front page of Toronto’s Saturday Star on December 26, 1981, recorded the heartwarming story of a Rexdale couple who received the Christmas gift of twin boys. The new parents were understandably overjoyed, as the article put it, when the stork “dropped in” on them not once, but twice. Much less overjoyed was a Toronto taxi driver who had four men drop in on him on Christmas night. This report also appeared on page 1 of the Star, beneath the bold headline “Murderer three others flee Don Jail.”

As 28-year-old Leslie Peter Sheppard of Pickering explained, it was simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was Sheppard’s first day on the job, moonlighting as a cab driver for Diamond Taxis in Toronto. He had just dropped off a fare at Riverdale Hospital on Broadview Avenue north of Gerrard Street East, and, in the spirit of Christmas giving, had escorted the wheelchair-bound patient to the entrance door of the hospital. Returning to his cab, parked on the narrow roadway between the hospital and the red-brick wall of the Toronto (Don) Jail to the south, he began writing up his trip sheet. That was when several men “in the biggest hurry of anyone you ever saw” piled into his cab. The first guy, he told reporters, “was huffing and puffing and said, ‘Help us — the bikers are after us. They want to knife us.’” As if to underscore this statement, he noticed that another of the men was shirtless, with a large slash across his chest and stomach. “Go! Go! Go!” they yelled and he took off, heading west along the laneway, before turning onto Gerrard Street and dropping them off at Sherbourne Street. The fare for the two-to-three-minute ride was $1.70, and he scored a 30-cent tip.

Sheppard told the media that he was gob-smacked to learn, when police stopped him 12 minutes later, that he had inadvertently helped four “extremely dangerous” inmates to escape from the Don Jail.

The desperadoes had squeezed through a narrow ventilation shaft, sawed through a steel bar with a hacksaw, and used a rope of blankets and bedsheets spliced together to reach the yard of the adjoining old Don Jail, closed since 1976. They then scaled a 20-foot wall to freedom — and that conveniently idling taxicab.

A Canada-wide alert was issued, with Metro Toronto Police out in force to follow up on every lead. They warned the public not to confront the escapers or “get them upset in any way.”

On December 29, an astonishing new development hit the headlines: police had charged the so-called “30-cent-tip” cabby with being an accessory after the fact and assisting in an escape. He was to appear in court early in the new year to have a trial date set.

Leslie Peter Sheppard’s long Christmas nightmare had begun.

 

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

CANADIAN EH?

Following the publication of The Don, I was pleased to receive an invitation for an interview from Craig Baird, host of Canadian History EhX, one of the top podcasts on Apple Podcasts Canada. After a few days’ delay (“thanks” to the effects on Craig’s internet connection of a snowstorm in rural Alberta, where he lives), we finally got together for a zoom chat. Craig’s questions ranged from what inspired me to write The Don to what I hope readers will take away from the book. And he was very interested to hear about George Hedley Basher, who governed the Don Jail with an iron fist between 1919 and 1931!

You can listen to Craig’s podcast on Apple podcasts or on Craig’s podcast website.

 

MEMORABLE MAY MOMENTS

To mark the May rollout of my new website, here are a few memorable May moments from my Horrible History of Hanging in Canada:

    • May 3, 1867: Ten thousand people turned up at the public hanging of Modiste Villebrun of St-Zephirin, Quebec, convicted of poisoning his lover’s husband. Even though this execution took place two months before the actual date of Confederation on July 1, 1867, it is officially listed as the first hanging in the newly formed Dominion of Canada.

 

    • May 12, 1885: Métis and First Nations rebel forces led by Louis Riel were defeated by Canadian government troops at the Battle of Batoche in Saskatchewan, and the Northwest Rebellion was over. Louis Riel was arrested by the North-West Mounted Police a few days later. He was tried for high treason, found guilty and hanged in November of that year.

 

 

 

 

    • May 2, 1923: Emilio Picariello and Florence Lassandro were hanged for the murder of Steve Lawson, a constable with the Alberta Provincial Police. Lassandro worked for Picariello, a notorious rum runner during the dark and desperate days of Prohibition in Canada. She became the first, and last, woman ever to be hanged in Alberta.

 

 

 

    • May 10, 1962: Arthur Lucas, an African-American gangster, was convicted of the murder of Therland Crater, a police informant from Detroit. In spite of the fact that the case against him was purely circumstantial and seriously flawed, all appeals failed. Lucas was executed in a double hanging at the Don Jail on December 11. This was the last execution ever to take place in Canada.

 

 

 

 

 

THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN

BLACK HISTORY AND CAPITAL PUNISHMENT IN CANADA

On July 22, 1903, the townsfolk of Picton, Ontario, were enchanted. The circus was in town! The Great Pan American two-ring circus, museum and menagerie had transformed the main thoroughfare into a grand street parade. But after the music stopped and the lights dimmed and the tents were being packed up, the provincial detective keeping an eye out for the odd pickpocket or other suspicious characters found himself facing a much more serious problem: murder.

One of the Black tent workers, Edward “Yellow” Johnson, lay bleeding to death from a stab wound to the heart. Fellow workers suspected another Black labourer – Edward Clarke, also known as “Side Show Shorty” – and the hunt was on. Clarke was soon found on Picton’s Main Street, clutching a pocket knife, and was fingered by an eyewitness as being the man who had killed Johnson. Others had heard him issuing threats.

The next day, the circus rolled out of town, but another show just as sensational was soon to begin: the murder trial of Side Show Shorty. Throngs of people crammed into the inquest and the police investigation, and the two local papers, the Gazette and the Times, categorically pronounced Shorty guilty.

The trial began in October. On the prosecution side stood Roger C. Clute, QC, an experienced trial lawyer from Toronto, who had won a guilty verdict in an 1883 capital case in Picton, leading to the hanging of the two local men charged with the crime. Edward Clarke was a Black man and, as a citizen of the United States, a foreigner. He had no funds to hire a lawyer, so the local county clerk, E. M. Young, volunteered to take on his case pro bono. Shorty was tried before a white judge and a 12-man all-white jury. Things looked grim.

But gradually Young, David against Clute’s Goliath, chipped away at the prosecutor’s case on the grounds of mistaken identity. His aim was to insinuate a measure of doubt into the jury’s mind.

The judge was totally convinced of Shorty’s guilt, and made his view clear in his charge to the jury. The jury deliberated for 2 hours. On their return to court, the foreman read out the verdict: not guilty. The crowds cramming the courtroom erupted into cheers.

The prosecuting authorities were incensed. The man was guilty! Why was he going to escape the gallows? For their part, the townsfolk were elated to see that this lowly Black American circus worker had been given a fair trial.

But, as in so many of these cases, things were not that simple. Some of the reasons for Clarke’s acquittal did not necessarily have anything to do with the law. In a thoughtful article entitled “Spectacular Justice: The Circus on Trial, and the Trial as Circus, Picton, 1903,” Carolyn Strange and Tina Loo give a detailed analysis of these reasons.

The townsfolk of Picton were in principle opposed to the death penalty. This was partly because they had been traumatized by the previous capital case that had led to the hanging in 1883 of Joseph Tompsett, 35, and George Lowder, 23. It was believed that the investigation had been flawed and the evidence contaminated; the jury’s plea for mercy was disregarded; and the actual hanging was horribly bungled. Also, locals strongly suspected that one of the men executed, George Lowder, may have been innocent. Roger C. Clute had been the prosecutor, and as a result his name was tainted. So the jury in the Clarke case strongly resisted Clute’s efforts to put another man to death.

Further, as the community saw it, the circus murder had been of one Black alien by another. These were not local people, and their fate did not engage or affect the community. The townsfolk saw it as pure coincidence that the murder had taken place in Picton. And they were simply not prepared to take responsibility for it.

Also, in the early 1900s Picton was just taking off as a tourist attraction, and the powers-that-be were very concerned about the town’s reputation. They had no desire for a hanging in the community to derail its economic development.

And so, Strange and Loo conclude, this poor Black man was acquitted, “not because he was innocent, but because a lowly county clerk had worked on the sympathies of a jury that was dead set against capital punishment.”

This was yet another unexpected twist in the tale of capital punishment in Canada, which Strange has referred to elsewhere as “the lottery of death.”

REMEMBERING ELIZABETH WORKMAN, 145 YEARS ON

June 19, 1873. Executed this day for the murder of her husband was Elizabeth Workman of Mooretown, Ontario.

A coroner’s inquest into the death of James Workman found that he died from “excessive violence,” administered by his wife or by Samuel Butler, the owner of a barbershop where Elizabeth did part-time work as a cleaner, or by both of them. There were bruises on James’s legs, indicating that they had been tied together with rope. The coroner found it necessary to mention that Butler was a Black man, the implication being that this was relevant to the case. Both Elizabeth Workman and Samuel Butler were taken into custody and charged with murder.

Witnesses at Elizabeth’s trial testified that a couple of days before his death in October 1872 James arrived drunk and belligerent at Butler’s shop, where Elizabeth was hard at work cleaning the floors. He insisted that she should come home with him. The barber intervened with some force, pushing James out into the street. Possibly not wanting a scene, Elizabeth left with her husband. However, she was so furious with him that, according to her young son, Hugh, she beat him severely with a mop handle, so severely that James was obliged to take to his bed. James was down but certainly not out. He continued to lash out verbally at his wife, and she responded by hitting him. She told a neighbour that she merely wanted to teach James a lesson to prevent him from hurting her in the future. Butler visited the house a couple of times during that period, but he was not there when James died.

The trial judge, Adam Wilson, ruled that although there seemed to have been an “improper intimacy” between Samuel and Elizabeth, the man should be acquitted as there was no evidence against him. However, when it came to Elizabeth, the judge was caustic. He characterized her as an adulterous and sadistic woman who tied her husband up and battered him for hours with a mop handle, finally killing him. Despite the jury’s plea for clemency, the judge followed up his negative statements at the trial with a letter to the minister of justice saying that he had nothing favourable to say about Elizabeth, and that she alone committed the acts she was charged with.

However, as Scott Gaffield points out in his thoughtful article “Justice Not Done: The Hanging of Elizabeth Workman,” the facts of the case were far more nuanced, and a vigorous defence might have brought these subtleties to light in court. The marriage of Elizabeth and her much older husband was very troubled. James laid claim to his wife’s earnings and was physically as well as verbally abusive to her, a trait very much exacerbated by his excessive drinking. Elizabeth, on the contrary, was described by all as a devoted wife and mother who was obliged to work outside the home to help her family survive.

Most of the evidence against Elizabeth was circumstantial and could have lent itself to alternative interpretations in the hands of a skilled lawyer. Did Elizabeth tie her husband down to brutalize him, or was this merely an act of self defence?  Did Butler visit the house to protect Elizabeth rather than to cuckold her husband? And talking of Butler, the man had a fierce temper and he had been heard threatening James. Was the judge correct in dismissing the case against him, or did he actually have a hand in James’s death? Much of the physical evidence was gone. A neighbour and James’s daughter cleaned his body before the authorities arrived, and the alleged murder weapon, the mop handle, was thrown away.

But Elizabeth Workman’s defence was very much less than vigorous. When her trial opened in March 1873, the court found that she had no lawyer, and she could not afford to hire one. A local barrister, John A. Mackenzie, was hastily recruited to act as her lawyer. Mackenzie had a few short hours to familiarize himself with the facts and come up with a defence. All he managed to do was provide a statement of Elizabeth’s innocence. He did not question or challenge witnesses during the two-day trial, nor mention his client’s good character or the fact that she was more than likely a battered wife.

There was a huge groundswell of support for Elizabeth, not just from the public (118 people from the Mooretown area alone signed a petition protesting against her sentence) but from prominent members of the community such as the mayor and the sheriff, and even the future prime minister of Canada, Alexander Mackenzie.

These efforts were all in vain: on June 19, 1873, clutching a small bunch of flowers, Elizabeth Workman was hanged. She fell directly into her grave through a trap in a purpose-built scaffold at the Sarnia Gaol in Ontario. She has gone down in history as the only woman executed in Canada despite a jury’s plea for mercy.

LinkedIn
LinkedIn
Share
Back to Top