Double Murder on the Great Indian Peninsula Railway
The "Precious Bane"
Facile descensus averno:"The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way." -DRYDEN.
The descent into hell is easy. This famous maxim of Virgil is forcibly illustrated by the criminal career of the principal culprit in what is known as the G.I.P. Railway Murder Case. Two men were put up for trial on a charge of murder at the Criminal Sessions of the Bombay High Court in November 1921 before Mr. Justice Marten and a special jury. One of the two accused was a Eurasian named Morris, and the other was a young Englishman named Donnison. Morris was at one time Baggage Inspector in the Bombay Customs. His duty was to examine and search the baggage of persons arriving by boat and disembarking at the Ballard Pier, to see if they contained any contraband goods. But that was some time ago. At the time of the murders, Morris was apparently without any job and in impecunious circumstances. Donnison, the other accused, also appeared to be a waster without any settled job, although at the time of the murder, he was working in a motor-garage in Bombay.
The two men were charged with having committed the double murder of a pay-clerk and a peon in the employ of G.I.P. Railway Co. These men were travelling from Bombay in charge of a box containing money in cash and currency notes, which was being carried by train to an upcountry station. According to the prosecution, while the train was proceeding from Igatpuri onwards, the two accused forced an entry into the compartment in which the pay-clerk and the peon were travelling with the cash-box. It was late at night while the train was in motion between two stations. According to the prosecution, Morris and Donnison first smashed the head of the poor peon. Gagging him, and tying up his hands and feet, they left him in a pool of blood on the floor of the compartment. They also attacked the pay-clerk and similarly smashed his head by giving him several blows with a wooden club. A jemmy was also used. They then forced open the money-box and transferred the money from the box into a canvas bag which they had with them. The box contained Rs. 36,000 and odd in currency notes and coin. The murderers took all the currency notes amounting to about Rs. 32,000 and left the rest of the money, about Rs. 4,000 and odd, it being in coin. They then closed the compartment and went back to their own compartment and travelled on until the train reached Manmad the next morning at about 8 or 9 o'clock.
In the meanwhile, early in the morning of 20th of July 1921, the murder was discovered at a way-side station, Pachora. The railway staff and railway police were immediately informed. They appeared on the scene and the compartment in which the murders were committed with the bodies of the victims was detached; and the train was allowed to proceed. The two murderers alighted at Manmad with the canvas bag; and walking along the railway track, buried the canvas bag in a nullah covered with bushes at some distance from the railway station. They then returned, Morris going to Igatpuri where he was residing, and Donnison came down to Bombay.
It appeared that Morris was fairly well known to the station staff at various stations as also to guards and engine drivers on the line from Igatpuri to Deolali. The railway police made vigorous inquiries at the stations and in the railway quarters at Igatpuri. The inquiries showed that for several days preceding the murders, Morris had been observed loitering along the line, and keeping a watch on the through night trains from Bombay at Deolali, as if on the look-out for something or somebody. His movements prior to the crime had excited the curiosity if not the suspicion of the station staff at Deolali. It appeared that on the fatal night of the 19th of July, Morris along with another European had purchased two first class tickets to Manmad, and boarded the train by which the pay-clerk and the peon were travelling. As a result of the investigations made at Deolali, Manmad and Igatpuri, Morris was arrested about the beginning of August, while he was watching a cricket match at Deolali. He was questioned as regards his movements on the night of 19th/20th July. He saw that the game was up; and practically confessed his part in the transaction to the police. He was taken to Manmad, and he pointed out the spot where the money bag and the jemmy were buried. Two days later, on information given by him, Donnison was arrested at his residence at Colaba in Bombay.
This case, like the De Ga case, falls into two parts. Prior to this bloody exploit, Morris was the villain of a heartless case of fraud and cheating. It seemed that while he was in the employ of the Bombay Customs as Baggage Inspector, he had to deal with an old Arab who alighted at Ballard Pier from a boat. During the First World War, and for some time thereafter, the Customs were keeping a strict watch on persons arriving from abroad, particularly from East Africa and the Persian Gulf; and the inspectors were instructed to search carefully the baggage of all passengers arriving by boat, to see if it contained any smuggled or contraband goods. On searching the baggage of the Arab, Morris found that he was carrying a bag containing 2,000 gold guineas. On discovering this contraband gold, Morris threatened to arrest the man and hand him over to the police; and he was also given to understand that, besides being sent to jail, his gold would be confiscated by government. Frightened by this threat, in his despair, the man begged of Morris to let him go; and if he did so, he would give him 200 guineas out of the 2,000. Morris agreed. But, he asked the man, "I will let you pass; but how will you pass through the customs barrier where other men may again search your baggage?" He then told the old man that the only way in which he could pass out with his guineas would be to leave the bag of gold with him (Morris); and he should pass out of the customs barrier with the rest of the luggage. Morris assured him that he would meet him outside at a spot which he indicated, as soon as he got an opportunity of slipping out without being observed with the bag of gold. He asked the old Arab to wait for him outside. The man trusted him and waited. He waited and waited. The day wore on, evening came, but there was no sign of either Morris or the bag of gold. He hoped that perhaps the inspector was unable to get out in daylight and he would meet him after darkness had set in. In this hope, he waited. The night advanced. He waited the whole night. No trace of the inspector-cum-imposter. He waited the next morning. He made inquiries about an inspector giving the description of the man; but he got no satisfactory answer. He dared not inform the police or the customs authorities. With a sinking heart, he went on waiting and hoping against hope the whole of the next day, next night, and for some more days in succession. But the inspector and the gold had vanished. It was clear that the poor old man had been cheated out of his life's savings.
It seemed that as soon as the bag of gold containing the 2,000 guineas was handed over to Morris, his cupidity was aroused; and he thought within himself, "why should I take 200 guineas only, when I have got all 2,000 in my possession?" Morris of course had managed to slip out of the customs barrier with the 2,000 guineas in his possession. He then converted the gold guineas into rupees, realising about Rs. 32,000 at the then rate of exchange. He next applied for leave pretending illness, and took a passage to Europe to make merry with his ill-gotten money. He enjoyed a gay time in London, Paris and other places, spending freely the money he had fraudulently secured, on drink, dance and all sorts of dissipations, until his funds were nearly exhausted. After that he returned to Bombay. In the meanwhile, the poor Arab, who had come to Bombay with his life's savings in the hope of enjoying the evening of his life with the money which he had saved, cursed his ill-luck, and he cursed the scoundrel who had robbed him of his substance by such a heartless trick.
This constitutes the first chapter in the criminal career of Morris. We shall presently see how nemesis and the curse of the old Arab whom he had reduced to destitution and perhaps beggary, overtook the villain before long in a terrible way. The inordinate greed. of gold-sin-suggesting, saint-seducing gold-urged him on to another horrible and bloody crime. One sin suggests another; and in this way accelerates one's passage down the slippery slopes of vice and crime, until he plunges into the black pit of perdition: facile descensus averno. "Let none admire that riches grow in Hell: That soil may best deserve the precious bane" -- Milton.
After his return to Bombay, having recklessly run through the greater part of the 32,000 rupees, Morris's mind constantly dwelt upon the magnificent time which he had in Europe. He found no job. Very likely he never tried for any honest job, and employed himself in loafing and looking out for some such other windfall as the devil had thrown in his way in the past. The prospect and the taste of poisoned pleasures, purchased with stolen money, ultimately suggested the crime, which brought Morris to the gallows. To replenish his depleted resources and repeat the course of vicious pleasures, which he had once tasted with the gains of robbery, he hunted for some other victim whom he might rob; and the Devil, always at the elbow of seekers after sinful pleasures, pointed to him the pernicious path of dalliance and dissipation through a terrible crime. Morris's search for another easy haul of unearned money at last centered upon the pay-clerks of the G.I.P. Railway, constantly travelling from Bombay with money boxes in their charge. He thought out the plan of robbery, secured a willing assistant in Donnison; and the two miscreants proceeded to accomplish their bloody business on the fateful night of 19/20 July 1921.
At the trial of the two accused before Mr. Justice Marten and a special jury in November 1921, Morris was ably defended by V. F. Vicajee, a well-known criminal lawyer of the time; and Kenneth Kemp defended Donnison. But the evidence against them was overwhelming; and counsel could do little in the face of such cogent and clear evidence. Both were found guilty. It was a cold-blooded, calculated, preplanned murder from the meanest of all motives.
Morris was sentenced to death, and he was ultimately hanged. His companion in crime, Donnison, was sentenced to penal servitude for life in view of his youth, and the fact that he had participated in the murders under the dominating influence of Morris, who had planned the whole transaction.
A very curious coincidence of the two crimes committed by Morris was the fact that the amount of money which he secured by cheating, robbery and murder on the two occasions was about the same, viz. Rs. 32,000. Another very striking feature of the case is the sinister role of the notorious number 13 in this bloody business. The train by which the ill-fated clerk and peon travelled on their last journey on earth, was the 13 Down Passenger Train from Bombay to Jubbulpore; and the number of the carriage, which contained the compartment of death, was 3613. This was noted by Mr. Justice Marten in his admirable summing up to the jury. Apart from the last '13' in '3613' the total of the digits (3 + 6 + 1 + 3) also comes to 13. It is such coincidences that keep alive ancient superstitions and give them a fresh vitality; and facts, on occasions, are stranger than fiction.
Author unknown; believed to be out of copyright. Previously included in the compilation, 'Famous Judges, Lawyers and Cases of Bombay: a Judicial History of Bombay during the British Period' by P.B. Vachha published by N.M. Tripathi Pvt. Ltd., Bombay in the year 1962, and also published at Railways of the Raj and on the Bombay High Court web site.