Chapter 17

A Lust that Led to Double Murder 1573

George Browne was obsessed with Anne Saunders. He would later admit that he could not resist ‘the appetites and lustes of his sinfull flesh.’ And one chronicler tells us that he was desperate to marry Anne ‘whome he seemed to love excessively.’ Another describes him as ‘addicted to the voluptuousnesse of this vaine world.’ Sadly for George, Anne was already married to another man, also named George. She had wed the merchant tailor George Saunders in around 1560 at Harefield in Middlesex and by 1573 the couple already had ‘manie children’ together. A wealthy man, Saunders was related to some of the leading dignitaries of the time. He was, for example, the cousin of Sir Edward Saunders, Chief Justice of the Queen’s Bench, while his wife, born Anne Newdigate, was also from a family that boasted good connections. These were important people in Elizabethan society.

Little of Browne’s background is known, though there are indications that he was an army captain and came originally from Ireland. He also seems to have had some connections at court. Intriguingly, his brother Anthony achieved notoriety after being hanged in York for some ‘notable felonies’. It’s probable that Browne fell for Anne Saunders after seeing her at the house of a friend and widow called Anne Drewry, (referred to as Anne Calfield in official records) and then orchestrated matters so that he dropped in to visit her at the Saunders’ home, in London’s Billingsgate, while her husband was away.

The main facts of what happened next have down come to us from Elizabethan translator Arthur Golding in his work A briefe discourse of the late murther of master George Saunders written shortly after the events. It alleges that George Saunders himself did not know Browne. What remains unclear is whether Anne was as infatuated with Browne as he was with her. There is certainly no convincing evidence that she and Browne had actually engaged in sexual relations. Yet there is no doubt that Browne was consumed with a real passion for Anne. In fact he was so determined to be with her that he resolved to murder her husband. Drewry, for her part, encouraged the enterprise and promised to help pave the way for a marriage to Anne once Saunders was out of the way.

On Tuesday 24 March, 1573, Browne received a letter from Drewry informing him that on that very evening Saunders would be lodging at the home of a Mr Barnes in Woolwich. The next day he would be making his way on foot to St Mary Cray, a village that lay to the south in Kent. What business he had there is not known.

By seven o’clock on the morning of Wednesday, 25 March Browne was lying in wait in the thick undergrowth, near Shooter’s Hill – already infamous as a place frequented by brigands who preyed on wealthy travellers. Soon, he saw Saunders coming towards him. He also observed, perhaps with surprise, that there was another man accompanying his quarry. This was John Beane, a servant of Mr Barnes. Both Saunders and Beane were, no doubt, armed. But Browne caught them by surprise, attacking with his sword drawn, rushing upon Saunders and running him through. Golding tells us that Saunders was ‘striken quite and cleane through at the first blowe.’ Falling to his knees he just had time to ask for God’s mercy before collapsing, dead. Realising he could not leave a witness Browne attacked Beane too, leaving him mortally wounded, and then fled.

Despite suffering ‘ten or eleven wounds’ Beane was still just about alive and managed to crawl away from the scene until he was, according to the chronicler John Stow, found by an old man and his daughter and taken back to Woolwich. Here Beane was able to give the authorities a description of Browne.

Meanwhile Browne was reeling from the shock of what he had done. Golding says that he was ‘striken with suche a terrour and agonie of hart’, that he ‘coulde brooke nother meate nor drink’ for the rest of the day. He seems to have been rather at a loss as to what he should do next. Golding says that first he sent a message via Roger Clement (also known as Trusty Roger and in official records of the time as Roger Symes), a servant of Anne Drewry, telling her that he had carried out the killing as planned. Presumably, Trusty Roger had been stationed near to the scene of the murder waiting for instructions. Stow reports that Browne’s next move was to make his way to Greenwich, where Elizabeth was holding court and where he could hide among the multitude of hangers on. Soon news of the murder arrived in Greenwich and Browne now decided to head for Drewry’s house in London, which was probably not part of the original plan. It is likely she realised the danger because she refused to see him herself, sending Browne away again and dispatching Trusty Roger to give him £20. Clearly she thought it best for the killer to lie low somewhere until the coast was clear.

At this point in the story there are some unfortunate unknowns. What, for instance did Browne do with his murder weapon? Why exactly did he go to Greenwich, only to leave again? More importantly, how did suspicion fall upon Browne, for it certainly did and very quickly. As soon as the day after the murder, the Council at Greenwich issued ‘A letter to the mayor of London to cause diligent inquiry to be made for a murdre donne the day before upon one Saunders, an honest merchaunt man, one Browne being vehemently suspected.’ It may have been that in the course of the day Browne had been observed acting oddly and that was why he moved on to London. Perhaps somebody in Saunders’s circle or family were aware of his affections for Anne and suggested his likely involvement.

Drewry herself was also quick to learn that Browne was now a wanted man and Trusty Roger again came to Browne – wherever he was hiding – giving him more money and advising him to take flight abroad. At first he refused, presumably because he knew this meant an end to his hopes for a union with Anne. He must have been persuaded in the end, because by the Saturday he was at a relative’s house in Rochester, Kent, seeking passage out of England on a ship to Holland. His pursuers might easily have guessed that he would take this route. Golding relates that the Privy Council ordered ‘so speedie and narrow searche to be made for hym in all places,’ that Rochester’s mayor, acting on information that Browne was on his patch, quickly went to the house where the wanted man was lodging. Browne was promptly brought back to Woolwich where he was identified by John Beane. The culprit’s apprehension hadn’t come a moment too soon. After naming Browne as the man who had attacked himself and Saunders, Beane died just two days later.

Browne was then taken to Greenwich where he was questioned by the Privy Council, which had shown itself unusually interested in the case. On 1 April, Browne was thrown into the Tower of London where he eventually confessed, perhaps under torture. Strict instructions were issued for his incarceration there. He was not, the orders said, to be allowed to see anyone, though interestingly, friends of Saunders were to be allowed in to witness the questioning, suggesting they had some useful knowledge of Browne’s intimacy with Anne Saunders. Browne duly confessed and must have revealed that his motive in attacking had not been robbery, but love. He implicated Anne Drewry as his accomplice in the killing, admitting that he had ‘oftentymes before pretended and soughte to do the same, by the instigation of the said widowe’. This suggests it was not the first plot they had devised and suggests that any relationship with Anne might have been long standing. In his A View of Sundry Examples, published in 1580, the chronicler Anthony Munday states as a fact that Anne had consented to the murder and was therefore also an accomplice. But if Browne had been tortured there was one thing he refused to confess under duress. He vehemently denied that Anne knew anything about the conspiracy to murder her husband. She was, he maintained, not ‘privie or consentyng’ to the slaughter.

Arraigned on 17 April at the Queen’s Bench in Westminster, Browne admitted his guilt. Three days later he was brought to Smithfield to be hanged. Even on the scaffold he took the opportunity to reiterate – in front of the massed crowds – that the object of his affections was innocent. Browne not only denied that Anne had been involved in the murder but also refuted the idea that they had enjoyed carnal relations. Stow says he ‘laboured by all meanes to cleare mistres Saunders of committing evill of her body with him’. Was he telling the truth, given that he now had nothing to lose, or was his simply trying to protect the woman he loved? Once he had been hanged, Browne’s body was hung in chains at Shooter’s Hill.

In the meantime, Anne Drewry and Trusty Roger had been brought in for questioning. In his confession Roger implicated Anne Saunders, but when the authorities approached her they discovered that she was pregnant. The wheels of justice were now brought to a halt, but not for long. As soon as Anne had been delivered of her baby she ‘was upon mistresse Druries man’s confession, and other great likelihoods, likewise committed to the Tower.’

The trial of Drewry and Anne Saunders took place on Wednesday 6 May at the Guildhall where they both pleaded not guilty. The case against them was that they had, by letter, procured the murder, knew that it had been done and then helped the murderer financially. They were accessories before and after the fact. Trusty Roger was brought in to give his evidence against Anne who made a ‘stoute deniall.’ Nevertheless the jury found both her and Drewry guilty.

If Trusty Roger had thought helping the prosecution would see him win a reprieve he was sorely mistaken. On 8 May he himself was arraigned at Newgate and condemned as an accessory to murder. He was also found guilty and told he was to be put to death on the same day as his mistress. The execution date was set for the 9 May. However, the trio’s execution was delayed for four days on the basis that George Saunders’ account book, showing his financial transactions, had not been found. The real reason was so that the authorities could extract a confession from Anne. This was important as a warning to others and to help maintain faith in the system of justice. She was still stubbornly refusing to admit her guilt. And perhaps what happened next had something to do with a bid to blacken her name, proving to the public that the correct verdict had been made in a controversial, much debated, case.

The bizarre twist to the story was that a minister called George Mell had been allowed into Anne Saunders’ cell at Newgate prison, where she had been taken after the trial. He had been given the job of offering spiritual guidance to the prisoner. In effect, he was expected to encourage Anne to make a full confession to the murder. But Mell had failed to stick to the script. Instead he had become convinced of her innocence. Some chroniclers say that he had even fallen in love with Anne himself. Golding tells us that the pair came up with a cunning plan to get her pardoned. Directed by Saunders, Mell went in to Drewry’s cell and tried to convince the widow to take all the guilt on herself, so that Anne could be spared. Mell pointed out to Drewry that she was going to the gallows anyway and that if she saved Saunders a dowry would, in turn, be provided for her daughter’s marriage. Eventually he persuaded Drewry to go along with it.

The ruse was apparently uncovered when Mell unwisely told another gentleman, who he thought was sympathetic, about the plan; he went straight to the authorities with what he had learned. When Mell came forward with his appeal, he was exposed and the pardon turned down. Mell himself was then committed to Newgate for his ‘lewde practises with Saunder’s wife.’

The ploy having failed, Anne Saunders was not yet prepared to give in. Overhearing some workmen talking about the strength of the gallows awaiting her she went to Drewry’s cell herself and pleaded with her friend to stick to the plan and tell the authorities that she was not guilty. Drewry however was now more concerned with the state her own soul than in prolonging Anne’s time on earth. She refused. Deflated, Anne Saunders now gave the authorities what they wanted, confessing her guilt in front of the Dean of St Paul’s. She went further, admitting her ‘unlawfull luste and liking of Browne’. When her husband’s family were brought forth she contritely asked for their forgiveness.

Finally, on Wednesday 13 May, Saunders and Drewry were paraded through London to Smithfield on a cart. Golding tells us that a huge throng gathered along the route. ‘For almoste the whole fielde, and all the way from Newgate, was as full of folke as coulde well stande one by another.’ There were people hanging on to the gutters, sitting on tops of houses, clinging to the steeple of St Bartholemew’s and even bashing down walls so that they could get a look.

By now Drewry had made her confession too, though at the Smithfield gallows she denied the rumours that she had dabbled in witchcraft or had poisoned her late husband. Trusty Roger also confessed. All three were then hanged simultaneously ‘by drawing away the cart whereon they stoode.’ Looking on from the pillory nearby was Mell who had been forced to endure the humiliating punishment for trying to tamper with the course of justice. He had a paper pinned on his chest which read: ‘For practising to colour the detestable factes of George Saunders wife.’

Golding tells us that the case caused ‘great occasion of talk among all sorts of men, not only here in the towne, but also farre abrode in the Countrie, and generally through the whole Realme.’ There seems to have been open debate as to whether Anne Saunders really was guilty with some believing she was innocent or had ‘brought hir selfe in danger of lawe through ignorance, and not through pretended malice.’

The case certainly caught the imagination of writers at the time. As well as Golding’s report another pamphlet on the murder, called A Cruell Murder Donne in Kent, hit the streets in 1577. It was also given plenty of space in the chronicles of Holinshed and Stow. The crime was still remembered well enough in the 1590s that it became the basis of a play called A Warning for Fair Women.

On the basis of the evidence it might be concluded that Anne Saunders and George Browne had been engaging in an adulterous relationship for some time and even that Browne was the father of the child born prior to her execution, hence the urgency of the lovers to get rid of her husband. Drewry’s motive would have been financial, getting a pay-out for arranging the killing. Yet there is a ring of truth in the absolute denial of both Browne and Saunders that Anne knew anything of the planned murder. Anne’s latter-day confession in which she regretted her ‘sinfulness of life’ committed with Browne can probably be taken with a pinch of salt given the pressure she was under. It seems likely that while Saunders had known of or even indulged Browne’s affections she had never expected him to murder her husband and merely felt guilty that any feelings she had shown him had led to such a tragic turn of events. In such instances, Tudor courts were primed to demonstrate that women were at the root of all evil. Yet there’s no reason to doubt that Browne was the main driver in the horror that befell both George Saunders and John Beane.