Crime Classics: The Shrapnelled Body of Charles Drew, Sr

Good evening. This is crime classics. I am Thomas Highland. I'm going to tell you another true crime story Listen The sound you hear is that of a man having his right hand hook filed It's Saturday night in London town and he wants to be gleaming and presentable The year is 1739 when a well-sharpened hook in London town was considered prudent and Captain Rat

That's R-A-T-T, besides being a drunkard, scoundrel and a smuggler, was a prudent man. The young man handling the file is named Charles Drew Jr., and he is performing this intimate little iron-monger because he needs a favor doubt.

Captain Rat can help him out. He can supply the youngster with an alibi, and Jr. badly needs work, for he has just shot his father dead. Tonight, my report to you on the shrapnel body of Charles Drew Sr.

Crime Classics, a new series of true crime stories taken from the records and newspapers of every land from every time. Your host each week, Mr. Thomas Hylen, on a sort of crime, student of violence, and teller of murders.

Now once again, Mr. Thomas Hylen. Here, as I've told you, is 1739, and the place? Long Melford in the County of Suffolk. Long Melford was a small, quiet town near London, and in it, a manor, and in the manor, a high-vaulted room of roaring fire, great shadows, and flying buttresses.

Directly beneath the buttress that flew toward the west, two men, father, son. Charles Drew Sr., Jr. Yes, Father. The time has come for you and I to have a talk. I'm grateful. There are things vexing me.

Perhaps what I have to tell you will answer your vexation. I'm very fortunate. I've tried to be a good father. Most excellent father. There's no one richer than you in Longrelford. This is what I want to talk with you about. I know. I've drawn my latest will. This.

What a gentle and most excellent father I have. Have you ear to what they say of you in the square? No, what do they say? That you are gentle and most excellent. What are the will?

I'm leaving everything to your five sisters and to you sixpence, to lend to spend to start your fortune. But the last will, the one before this you left me everything. everything. There may be a kind word to my five sisters. That was when you were eleven.

Now you are nineteen. And a good son. To whom good? To you good. Nay. To the cutthroats and smugglers with whom you cut. It is not so. This is so. I know it. You can sort with people of ill-fame. And also with Mr. Richardson's housekeeper. Shall I explain this of Mr. Richardson's housekeeper to you.

It would be well. She is the most excellent housekeeper and I wish to employ her for our own household. And this you have been trying to do for the last year. Oh, she demands high payment.

Our family can afford high payment. But I personally cannot, Father. Not until I inherit your fortune. And which with this new will will never be. Father, I don't scare some. See that gun, old man.

A smattering of intelligence concerning 1739 ballistics. Ammunition was chiefly of two types, round or irregular. The former was manufactured by dropping chunks of molten lead from a great height, and when it reached the vat of water at the bottom of flight, it was round, due to centrifugal forces and gravity.

young men who puttered with this sort of thing, round shot was considered pretty fancy. Mostly guns were loaded in this era by whatever iron junk was to hand. It should be recorded that Charles Drew Jr. had stopped at a small junkyard on his way to talk with his dad.

This is the reason the coroner found numerous pieces of irregular junk iron in dad's corpse. Let's see what dad's son is up to now. seen ye old Bunnery, a rundown bake shop on Abernathy Lane, the time two hours later.

Principles, Charles Drew Jr. and the Mr. Humphrey, Bun Baker. That brings you to ye old Bunnery, Charlie. I want to know a thing, and that is what? Humphrey, how would you like a hundred pounds?

You ever sang a hundred pounds? All you must do is say you killed an end. I killed a man. My 100 pounds, please. You must say you killed my father. I killed your father. My 100 pounds.

To the police. She aren't they. 200 pounds now and 200 pounds after you've been to the police. You killed your poor old dad, Charlie. With this pistol. Huh? Leave you to be a welly rich man.

If someone were to go to the police and said he killed my father, he would be rich too. With his neck and the jibbit, I would guarantee that the man would be released. Inside of a week he would be released. There are jailers who would release such a man persuaded correctly with enough money.

I guarantee I. I know a guarantee. Right near confession that you killed your poor dear old dad. I've allied it. I will go to the police and confess that deed. If I'm still in jail in a week, I will tell the jail and verify your confession.

Let me up for half a dozen of your excellent buns, Humphrey. And I will give you 200 pounds, plus the price of them." There upon Humphrey plucked a quill from his favorite goose in the back goose coop, sharpened it, and presented it to Charlie.

With it, the lad rode out his confession, paid up, and left. Humphrey waited for his wife, got permission to leave the shop, stopped at his house for a moment, then walked into the local constabulary, and made history with this statement.

If you boys are looking for a corpus, try 26 Blooms Street. If you're wondering what his name is, it's Charles Drew Seam. If you're wondering who did the murder on him, it's me. And my name is Humphrey.

The police, upon arriving at the appropriate room at 26 Blooms Street, understood immediately that foul play had been done. One of the constables was assigned to look in on the household of Mr. Humphrey. And there saw the Humphrey children at play at Fissle-Dee-Doo, a game usually played with marbles, but by the Humphrey children,

played with pieces of iron junk, which latter were of a size that could easily be rammed down the muzzle of a gun. The gun was there too, under a pillow on Mr. Humphrey's side of the bed.

Mrs. Humphrey, who in the meanwhile had returned home, shook her head philosophically when apprised of the situation. It is recorded that Mrs. Humphrey's parents both been put away as confirmed smugglers, a felony against the crown.

The next day in jail. Nice of you to visit me, Charlie. Yes. What news do you bring? When am I to be released? I went to see Sir Roger Fireplace. Wow, he's Sir Roger. He did.

To the pity too, for he would have gotten your release in an ounce for a few hundred pounds. Don't forget, Laddy. I've got your confession. You've got till Sunday. The youngster, however, knew another man of note, Sir Chauncey Fenwick.

Sir Chauncey was compassionate and understood the situation exactly. But unfortunately had just had one of his periodic fallings out with the magistric's wife. But Sir Chauncey did not send the lad away empty-handed. He suggested an old sea dog named Captain Rat with two teeth.

What's the fire, Mr. Drew? You'll be missing me. You couldn't be scraping my wrist. I'm very sorry, Captain. I knew. What of it's been, sir? I traveled here to London to talk to you. You see, Sir Fenwick sent you to me.

Sir Fenwick took five hundred pounds and you said he could do nothing with it. Sir, you're my last resort, Captain Rat. We bit here, Mr. Drew. Eh? No. What can old Captain Rat do for you?

Do you have any influential friends? What be you needing an alibi? What do you sell for a friend? He's always for a friend What about him? He confesses he killed my father and he be your friend by killing my father. He made me rich. I bear him No, man, and for him you want an alibi

Why Why not let him rot? Why, Zany? You see, you kill your daddy, Zany. He'd never hurt you. You almost stuck me. A parting young gentleman. An only boy you wanted it. For a friend. You see what?

That my friend is making a mistake. But he is having hallucinations that he did not kill my father, because he was with you the night my father died. And where, Mr. Drew, will I leave you?

Oh, since one has confessed to the crime, it is tough for whether I would be charged with it. Oh, Sly one. Bunch you are Sly one young gentleman, Bunch! Oh! I'll travel down to the jail, we here and have a talk with your friend.

How's that? Very good. I, uh... I'll need 500 pounds for expenses. Oh, yes. No. Yes. Ha ha ha! Let his waist in a Saturday night and all coming down here to the Dunneson speaking to you, Mr. Umprey.

But I don't mind. And you're going to furnish me an anti-bire captain. This be a strange one. I explained it all to you, Captain. Who killed your dad? This one he has said he'd own it.

Now the both of you want me to see he couldn't have done it, because he was with me. That lad thought it up. He's a bright man, not me. My plan will work by the time you get Humphrey out of here and the police begin to dig about again. I hope he and Paris.

Lost, I will change my name and with my fortune I will give you. For your fortune, I will do it. But I gave you five hundred pounds. The pittance. Your fortune, Mr. Drew. Except for his promise to me.

What about it, Lyd? I know. May that! May not talk into board of you! It's Saturday night, Charlie. But for you do. It's Saturday night, Charlie. I've got your confession in the way.

In tomorrow's Sunday. But for you do. And they looked at each other there in the dungeon. The jailed and the young visitor. And the question hung there. What would Charlie do? It's Saturday night, and tomorrow is Sunday.

What will you do, Charlie? You are listening to Crime Classics and your host, Thomas Island.

Tomorrow night, here are the premier performance of 21st Precinct, a new hard-hitting mystery series revealing the inner workings of the world's largest police force. Precinct, produced by CBS Radio Team that gave you gangbusters. It's a program you'll want to listen for every Tuesday night on most of these same stations, premier performance tomorrow night on CBS Radio.

Now, once again, Thomas Highland and the second act of crime classics, and his report to you on the shrapnel body of Charles Drew Sr. It's a short dusty road from Long Melford to London. Not only that, but these days it's hard to find.

In its day, however, it was remarkable for two things. The brother's shoe spooner, Dick and Harry, who embarked on a career of high-woman ship on the morn of June 3, 1735, were hung on the eve of that same day from the highest branch of an elm at a fort on Long Melford Road.

The other historic feature of Long Melford Road is the fact that on a Sunday morning, a young murderer Charles Drew Jr. and his lady love rode a coach down its ruts. Oh, he's a renting, roping lad.

He is a brisk and a bonding lad. Be I what may I will be with, and follow the boy with a white cocks game. Liz. What is it, dearie? Shut up. Everyone's singing that song, dearie.

It's the rage. Please, shut up. Oh, duck. What's the matter? You're the cause of it all. Of what, old duck? Am I killing my father? You wanted a way to have all his money? I told you a way to do. That's all.

Yes. Aw, duck, dearie. You'll see when we get to London what a time I'll show you. Make you forget. Since I've killed him, I've done everything wrong. Will you listen to Liz again? Will you?

Surely I'll listen Poodle. Aw, duck. Even monkey. Will you listen to Liz? Surely. We'll get to London. We'll change your name. And you forget about Amfry. But if I don't get him out of jail tonight, he'll show the police my confession.

But you'll be in London! Stop forgetting about him right now! Alright. And so they fled to London Town, little knowing that they had made a role famous. In London they located a little known hideaway called Bonhom Carter's Thornee Bull Inn on the corner of Asquith and Chiswick.

The lad registered under an alias Thomas Roberts Liz, however, registered in her own name, Elizabeth Bathol. As this was going on back in Long Melford Jail, where Mr. Humphrey was, there transpired this. In run-out of arty, I'm getting out of here.

You be a fool. How? A fool. Would you ever have so much money? What money are you biking, what? This bun. Let's give me your money, or let money, and is good for more. Aye.

All we want. Aye. Either rich one, that's true. We can get more money before you show his confession. Aye. You said he fled. His lids told me they were off to London town. You could write him a letter and say as long as he pied you twenty pounds a day you'd be willing to stay where you are.

Twenty pounds a day! That's a robbery! Ahhh! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! We will go to London and find Master Drew and present him with letter! How will he find him? I will ask you in a barre of him.

Hmm. London I've got it. London? What are the children? Well Mrs. Nickelrod says she will take care of him. You... Low London. Ahhh... So Mrs. Humphrey went to London. A few observations about Mrs. Humphrey.

Wash away the flower and the excess dough. Put on long sleeves to hide the muscles made prominent from needing bundle. Home the hair, exchange shoes for boots, and Gertrude Humphrey was rather presentable. When she went to London Mrs. Humphrey did all of these things.

Plus making a metal note not to laugh too much. Not only because of the horrible sound she made, but also because of the mischievous twitch it brought on, which she could not control. So, off she went to this place, to that, to this pub, to that, asking for a Mr. Drew.

I should like to comment here that in 1739 the gin was of an excellent pollen distillation. However, its chemistry had a peculiar reaction with Gertrude Humphrey. Though she fought it, and though she laughed not at the most hilarious joke, including the historically famous one about Lady Mumbly and the Troubadour, the jinn caused her to twitch mischievously. This attracted to her London dandies,

who plied her with more Holland jinn, and who promised her help in finding Mr. Drew, and who never did. But Gertrude never lost sight of her mission, And one night in a pub in Covent Garden.

Mr. Mr. What's your present dear? One hour dear? I want to gin. Gin forl eight eight. What's your name dearie? Gratty. Gratty. Hi. As you did gratty. Pick up. Well now dearie. Is your name, Drew?

Know what you want one a to be? I'm looking for Mr. Dro. Mr. Dro, is there a Mr. Dro? Yeah. Oh, now, go. They... I've the one who's bought you the gin. Yes. My name is Dro.

You like the Dro I'm looking for. Now, why do you say that? Oh, here, darling. I'm the fellow who's bought her the gin. Here's the guinea malaise. Find another lady who likes gin. Oh. Oh, I will. That go, do.

Thank you. Bye, Gertie. Nooo. Oh, now, now, why do you weep, pretty one? You're so beautiful. Always cry at beautiful things. Gin for the lady. Now, now, now, now, stop that weeping. Ah, here's your gin.

I say, Mr. Pusswink, you have? Is that truly your name? Truly, Lady Bird. It is. Lady first, lady first. And you were looking for me. My name is Drew and you shouted for Mr. Drew.

So beautiful you are. What do you want of me? I've let it for a man I've drew. Really? Oh, I want you David. I really do. Then give it to me. And you must turn me back now.

and Rachua. Yeah. You want to connive you all. His name really was Drew. Timothy Drew.

It's one of those coincidences in history which gave rise to the old saw. Truth is stranger than fiction, as they say. And he was a curious man, and a proud man jealous of his name, Drew.

He had heard his name mentioned and he was forced to find out why. He read the letter then and there. He read it again a little later, out loud, to the police. And my Mrs. told you have gone to London with Liz Bathall.

But, Charlie, my lad, you shall pay me twenty pounds a day. Else, I will tell that you have murdered your poor daddy. I have your paper which you confessed you did, right where nobody but me knows where.

So when my wife hands you this letter, you better give her money and find a way to keep giving it to her, your faithful, Mr. Walter Humphrey. Gentlemen, here in London is a man named Charles Drew.

He has murdered his father and he bears the same surname as I. I cannot permit this deed to go unpunished. Even in 1739 the London police were thorough. And, goaded by the enormity of the crime and spurred and accompanied by a man whose name had been besmirched, they combed the alleys, hustlers, pubs, denies.

It was late on a moist Thursday morning when Timothy Drew happened into Bonham Carter's thorny bull inn on the corner of Ask With and Chizzy. Bonham Carter denied the presence of a Mr. Charles Drew but affirmed that Elizabeth Al was most certainly a guest there. He directed Timothy to Elizabeth's chamber.

Open the door. No games there, it's too early. How is it? Representative of the police. What did you say? May I come in? If you'll be the police, you can do anything, ain't it so?

Thank you. I ain't done nothing. Is your name Elizabeth Bathour? It is. You know a man named Charles Drew? What's he look like? I don't know. Now can I tell if I know him? Sort you take me for.

There's no one in me closet. What is this young man doing under your bed, madam? A man? What's he? Quiet woman. Is your name Charles Drew? I'm talking to you under the bed there. Is your name Charles Drew?

Come out, Commander there, sir. That's right, sir. My name is Charles Drew, sir. And did you kill your father? It would be a small life living as I had been. Yes. Yes, I killed my father.

I have the original issue of a gazette dated January 22, 1740, from which I'd like to read. The melancholy proof that when a man has abandoned all religious principles and has suffered his depraved appetites and passions to govern his reason was shown yesterday when Charles Drew Jr. was hanged in Long Melford. Since the hanging elm on Long Melford Road had recently

been demolished to make a keel for the British Navy, a new jibbit was erected. This jibbit was equipped with a new mechanical device invented by Mr. Douglas Langford of Eastburn. Mr. Langford is to be congratulated.

In just a moment Thomas Highland will tell you about next week's crime classic. The shrapnel body of Charles Drew Sr. tonight's crime classic was adapted from the original court reports and newspaper accounts by Martin Fine and David Friedken.

The music was adapted from themes of the period and conducted by Bernard Herman and the program is produced and directed by Elliot Lewis. Thomas Highland is portrayed on radio by Lou Merrill. Charles Drew Jr. was played by Terry Kilburn and Liz by Betty Harford.

Featured in the cast were Paul Freeze, Van Wright, Irene Tedrow, William John Stone and Anthony Ellis, Bob Lamont speaking. Here again is Thomas Highland. Next week the office directly below that occupied by Oliver Wendell Holmes is the scene of the catastrophe. The place Harvard Medical School, the time 1849. My report on the terrible deed

of Dr. Webster. Thank you. Good night. It's big news when a former publisher, soldier and congressman, the famous son of a famous father, stars in a new radio series. In this Wednesday night, you'll want to listen with all your might when CBS radio stars Will Rogers Jr. as Rogers of the Gazette over most

of these same stations. Rogers of the Gazette tells the story of a small town newspaper editor what he stands for and also what he refuses to stand for. Remair performance this Wednesday on CBS Radio. Stay tuned now for Gary Moore with Arthur Godfrey's talent scouts which follows immediately over most of these same stations. And remember

American now listens to 110 million radio sets and listens most to the CBS Radio Network.