Just after midnight on a cold January evening in 1872, a pair of London constables began following two gentlemen who appeared to be touring the "public conveniences" of Regent Street. They shadowed the pair as they made their way through Burlington Mews, Heddon Street, Vine Street, Swallow Street, and Glasshouse Street. After some little time on the tour, the constables decided to arrest the men for "frequenting public urinals for an unlawful purpose." At the Great Marlbourough Street magistrates court, the lead officer justified his suspicions because one of the men, residing in Manchester Square, was a "known frequenter." The public was much more concerned to learn the second gentleman nicked that morning was the Rev. William Dawson MA, the recently arrived rector of St John's, Clerkenwell.
The "Extraordinary Charge Against a Clergyman" was heard several days later by which time Mr Dawson had employed counsel who came to court with an impressive collection of testimonials as to the character of his client. The rector of Clerkenwell was 36, unmarried, new to London, and eager to explore. He brought with him to the great city his "country habit" of talking nocturnal walks. While the alleys off Regent Street were less leafy and wholesome than the lanes of Suffolk, a man must take his walks as he finds them. In no way was he associated with or in the company of the other gentleman, a man he did not know. The magistrate was then presented with effusive statements from the Bishop of Carlisle, Lord Hatherly - the patron of Clerkenwell - and numerous other clergymen, united in their opinion that Mr. Dawson was a man of "saintly purity."
The policemen held to their stories. They were sure of what they had seen; although the details were reserved as unfit for publication. Under firm questioning, however, "little discrepancies" in their accounts were revealed. Mr. Knox, the magistrate, called it one of the most painful cases to ever come before him. That said, and with no imputations intended against the watchers of the night, Knox was going to release the Rev. Mr. Dawson. The police must have misread his conduct on the night in question. Given the character references, there seemed to be no way the clergyman could have been involved in the horrid actions alleged.
The Rev Mr. Dawson remained at St John's for more than two decades and authored a history of the parish in 1891. By far a more celebrated story from Clerkenwell involved the Rev. Robert Maguire of St James who was accused of grossly insulting a young woman in a railway carriage. You can read about "The Clergyman's Wayward Foot" in my new collection of Victorian clerical scandals, How the Vicar Came and Went, available NOW.
