A K.P.M. group of four awarded to Chief Constable J. H. Watson, C.B.E., Bristol City Police Force, who died in mysterious circumstances in 1930

King’s Police Medal, G.V.R., 1st issue (Ch. C. John H. Watson, O.B.E., Bristol City Police Force); Coronation 1911, County and Borough Police, unnamed as issued; Bristol City Police Long Service medal, silver, 3 clasps, Twenty Two Years, Twenty Seven Years, Thirty Two Years (Ch. Con. J. H. Watson); Association of Professional Fire Brigade Officers Long Service Medal, silver (Chief Constable J. H. Watson. 1923.) mounted as worn; together with the related miniature awards, the recipient’s Chief Constables Association Presidents Medal with 1921 top brooch bar, silver, the reverse engraved ‘J. H. Watson C.B.E. President’ and an International Police Conference New York 1925 Badge, base metal and enamel, light contact marks therefore about very fine (5) £600-£800

C.B.E. London Gazette 3 June 1927.

O.B.E. London Gazette 7 June 1918.

K.P.M. London Gazette 1 January 1924.

John Henderson Watson was born in 1871 in Flintshire, Wales. He was educated at Skipton Grammar School, Yorkshire, and after working for a time as assistant to his father, a civil engineer, he joined the Lancashire Constabulary in 1892. Service as Sergeant and Chief Clerk at Barnsley, and then Inspector at Hyde was followed by his appointment to Chief Constable of Congleton in 1902, and of Devonport six years later. Appointed as Chief Constable of Bristol in 1914, he offered his resignation in March 1930, after 35 years of police service, following an investigation into allegations that he had used the services of policemen and firemen to drive his car on private occasions and perform domestic duties at his house. His defence was that he had had permission from members of the council to do this, particularly his friend the former Lord Mayor Alderman John Swaish. But the monetary value of the perks was £1,500, twice Watson’s annual salary. His resignation was accepted and he agreed to pay back the sum he had allegedly misappropriated.

On 7 October 1930, Watson left his home in Hartfield Square, Eastbourne and never returned home. Despite the efforts of search parties, it wasn’t until three months later, on 19 January 1931, that his badly decomposed body was found approximately one mile from his home, amongst decaying vegetation in Cherry Tree Gardens, a public park in the Old Town district of Eastbourne. The corpse was gripping a razor tightly in its right hand and its throat was cut. There had never been a suicide note and his wife insisted that he was happy, had no money problems, wasn’t missing his job, and she said his religious principles would have made suicide unthinkable. So when the coroner ruled an open verdict the rumour mill began:

‘Perhaps, some say, Watson was murdered and his corpse arranged to make it look like suicide? Perhaps he knew something that could have harmed someone rich and powerful? Perhaps he was killed to cover up some other crime?
One of those theories about what Watson may have known that led to his death, was another rumour-fuelled tragedy - that of the Charfield rail crash.
When the crash took place, on the morning of 13 October 1928, two of the thirteen people - both said to be children - killed in the horror were never identified.
But for years locals told stories of a ‘woman in black’ who for 25 years or more visited a memorial to the accident and laid flowers.
No one ever asked her how she was connected to the tragedy, and it was assumed the ‘woman in black’ who arrived in a chauffeur driven car, was somehow connected to the unidentified children.
The rumour vine flourished with speculation and because of her obvious means - arriving with a driver - folklore of the region decided she was a member of royalty and the children were illegitimate offspring.
The inquiry into the train wreck sparked more gossip after it concluded the driver went through a ‘danger’ signal.
He was charged with manslaughter - despite being adamant that it was on clear - and before it got to trial the judge threw the case out, meaning what had caused the crash that day was also shrouded in secrecy.
When Watson died there was rumour that he had known something about the two unidentified bodies in the crash and that information had somehow led to his death.
But surely the balance of probability is that John Henderson Watson was suffering from depression after the untimely and humiliating end of a long and distinguished career of the utmost respectability.
Watson had been hung out to dry by the politicians on the council; he was made a scapegoat for their incompetence in overseeing the public purse.
Watson may well have felt betrayed by people he had once supposed were gentlemen, and his friends.
You can believe conspiracy theories if you wish, but one thing for certain is that we will probably never know the truth about his death.’ (article in The Bristol Post, 12 August 2017 refers)