In the afternoon of Tuesday 23 May 1876 a respectable looking, twenty six year old woman with long flowing hair, stepped down from the Sheffield train and went to the Station Hotel Rotherham. There she reserved rooms for herself giving the name of Edith Groves. The landlady, Mrs Taylor was delighted when she told the woman the price for lodgings and was informed that lodgings in Sheffield were much more expensive. Edith then request a tea of ham and eggs and asked for it to be served around 5 pm, which was agreed. Edith told the landlady that she was anxious to post a book back to a person in Sheffield from whom she had borrowed and forgotten to return.

She asked Mrs Taylor if the hotel could supply her with a shillings worth of postages stamps in order to post it immediately and was supplied with sufficient stamps from the hotel’s cash box. The woman told the landlady that she would go for a walk around Rotherham whilst her tea was being prepared. Only after the woman had gone out did Mrs Taylor began to suspect that her elegant lodger might not be as respectable as she claimed. Although she had taken lodgings with her she had brought no luggage with her. Her suspicions were confirmed when two pairs of boots were delivered. It seems that upon leaving the hotel, Edith had gone into a boot shop which adjoined the hotel, and ordered two pairs of boots to be delivered next door.

Mrs Taylor advised the boot boy to take them back again, which he did. Unbeknownst to the landlady her errant lodger then went to the Ship Hotel, Rotherham and ordered lodgings there for the night. Once more she ordered a tea to be prepared for her and whilst waiting for it, the landlord supplied her with a glass of port wine. Again she asked him for postage stamps in order to return a book and was given 2s 6d worth of stamps. Edith then walked along the High Street until she arrived at the shop of Henry Wigfall and Company. There she purchased goods amounting to around £5 to be delivered to the Ship Hotel. By the time the goods were delivered, the respectable looking Edith was nowhere to be found.

The police were notified and thankfully found her at midnight at the Station Hotel waiting for her supper of bread and cheese. She again gave the name of Edith Groves to Police Sergeant Morley and Police detective Hodgson, before being taken to the Police Office and searched. The stamps were found in her possession, as were four pairs of kid gloves, which were found in the corner where Edith had been standing earlier. When asked if the gloves were hers, she denied this most strongly claiming that they had been ‘placed’ there by someone. The prisoner claimed that they were intended to get her into trouble. However these were later identified as being stolen from Henry Wigfield’s shop.

However trying to establish the truth from Edith proved to be much harder than the two officers had, at first anticipated. The woman seemed to change versions every time she spoke. Firstly she said that she was Danish and had just landed in this country, but when the Mayor questioned her, Edith told him she was from Liverpool. When hotel staff were questioned it seemed that the prisoner had said that she was on her way to Edinburgh and another that she came from Bristol. The following morning she was brought before the bench and was defended by solicitor, Mr Packwood. The first witness was an apprentice to Henry Wigfield and he described the prisoner coming to the shop and asking for a pair of gloves.

She ended up selecting two pairs one of black and one of grey silk and once again asked for them to be delivered to the Ship Hotel. The apprentice confirmed that she did not pay for any of the articles that were later delivered by himself on the Wednesday morning. He also identified the four pair of gloves that he had missed after the prisoner had left the shop. At this point the prisoner was simply remanded for a week. When she was brought back into court however on Thursday 1 June the Superintendent of Police, Mr Gillett gave quite a different ‘character’ to the woman now being called ‘the Lady Swindler.’ He had discovered that despite her elegant language, Edith Groves was a convicted felon at present out on ‘ticket of leave.’

This was a prisoner who had served part of a previous sentence before being issued with a certificate stating that she was considered to be trusted with some freedom. When questioned about the postage stamps that were found in her possession the prisoner claimed that she had done the ‘postage stamp business’ before. She therefore considered it not to be a theft, but that she was merely ‘borrowing’ them with the intention of paying the hotel back. It was noted however, that throughout the trial this feisty ‘lady’ questioned all the witnesses who gave evidence against her at considerable length. Mary Farmery the female searcher gave evidence that after the prisoner had been searched the gloves were found under a bench where the prisoner had been sitting.

However when charged with stealing them from Messrs Wigfields and Company, the prisoner once again complained that the gloves had been ‘planted there’ by the female searcher. She went onto claim that the woman had probably stolen the gloves herself. Needless to say Edith was found guilty and sent to take her trial at the Sessions. Accordingly, Edith Groves was brought before the Rotherham Quarter Sessions on Friday 31 June 1876 where Mr Barker prosecuted. He was lucky to get a work in edgeways. Once again the prisoner took charge of her own defence addressing the jury at some length as ‘gentlemen of the jury, before elaborating on three doubtful points in her defence.

It has to be admitted that even the chair to the magistrates, Mr G W Chambers was impressed and later described it as being ‘a very clever defence.’ However, once the jury found the prisoner guilty, only then was her previous criminal career revealed. Mr Chambers told the court that ‘this lady swindler’ had commenced her questionable dealings fifteen years earlier. On 2 August 1861 she had been sentenced to 28 days imprisonment for two different charges of larceny. On 6 January 1869 she was again charged with larceny and sentenced to prison for twelve months. On 14 January 1870 she was sentenced to six months, once again for larceny. On 18 August 1870 Edith was charged with being a rogue and a vagabond and was given six months imprisonment on three different charges.

At the Hampshire Sessions on 11 June 1871 the prisoner had pleaded guilty to three different charges and was given seven years penal servitude followed by seven years police supervision. That was when Edith Groves had been liberated from Woking Gaol as a ticket-of-leave criminal on 4 April of the present year and the offence with which she was now charged took place on 23 May of the present year. Mr Chambers told the jury that they could not sentence her to any less than ten years penal servitude, but the bench had wanted to sentence her for a much longer period.

In the end they had decided on a sentence of ten years penal servitude followed by five years police supervision. The prisoner was then taken downstairs to begin her sentence. However the last word on this matter goes to a Rotherham correspondent to the Sheffield Daily Telegraph dated Saturday 1 July 1876. He wrote about the case describing Edith Groves as:

‘The Lady Swindler, who a few weeks ago spent a couple of days among the hotel keepers of this town, relieving them of their surplus postage stamps, and entertaining them with her engaging manners and pleasant conversation. However that was when she met with her Nemesis. For ten long weary years our bucolic publicans will now sigh in vain for the charms of her voice, and will, no doubt miss her engaging conversation and pleasing manners.’

Josef Husnik had been a native of Prague before coming to Sheffield in 1877. Six years later he found himself living in lodgings in Sheffield. His landlord, Mr Oates thought a lot about his lodger, although he noted that the twenty seven year old lad could easily become very depressed on occasions. When in this mood, Josef tended to sit close to the fire smoking his pipe incessantly, sometimes quiet and other times talking quite wildly. More worryingly, he told Mr Oates that he got into the habit of carrying a gun, a practise his landlord was well aware of, as he would often practice shooting in the back yard of the lodging house.

Nevertheless Josef was very popular mainly due to his polite and nice manners and was ready to say ‘thank you’ to anyone he interacted with. However at some point he started to drink regularly at the Royal Hotel on West Street, which was described as being ‘a beerhouse of something more than average size.’ The landlord of the Hotel was a man called John Jubb and he lived there with his wife Margaret and their four children. Like most landlords in the town Jubb had two jobs. During the day he had been employed at Messrs Rogers Works as a table knife hafter and in the evening helped his thirty one year old wife to serve customers.

Around the beginning of June 1884, instead of just calling in at the Hotel for a drink, Josef moved in as a lodger. Apparently the young Austrian had formed a strong attachment to the landlady, which was quickly noticed by her husband. Consequently in July of 1886 Jubb gave him notice to leave and Josef was forced to find new lodgings in St Phillips Road, Sheffield. However he continued to visit the Royal Hotel a couple of times a week. On Wednesday 1 December 1886, Josef came down to breakfast where his landlady, Mrs Oates noticed that he seemed rather morose. Nevertheless he managed to eat a good breakfast of three eggs and a rasher of bacon,

However when he left the house he bid Mr and Mrs Oates ‘good morning’ in a cheery manner and raised his hat to them both. He then left around 9 am stating that he would be back at dinnertime. When Josef got to the Royal Hotel, he appeared to be very restless and paced around for a time as if he could not settle in one place. He went from the public bar into the dram shop, almost as if he had something heavy weighing on his mind. About noon, when the public house was almost empty of customers, he saw Margaret Jubb talking to a tailor, called Freeman who leased a workshop in the Hotel yard.

When the landlady returned back inside the hotel she joined her servant, fourteen year old Mary Ellen Whitaker in the kitchen with the couple’s four children. Suddenly there was a knocking on the dram shop window and Mary Ellen answered. She said to her mistress, that ‘someone wanted her’. A few moments later, completely out of the blue, five shots were heard. Mary Ellen ran into the passage which separated the kitchen from the hotel dram shop where she met Mrs Jubb clutching at her bleeding chest. She told the girl ‘Oh Ellen, I’ve been shot!’ The poor woman managed to stagger into the kitchen where she sank to the floor and immediately became unconscious.

Mary Ellen ran out into the yard to get help, but the shots had already attracted the attention of Mr Freeman and another worker called Marriott, who both ran into the house. They lifted the poor woman onto the settle and Freeman ran to call an ambulance, whilst Marriott attempted to staunch the woman’s bleeding. Husnik was seen at this point staggering into the dram shop. Later his dead body was found by the servant girl Mary Ellen lying behind the door which led out into West Street. Just at the same time, Police Constable Candlin arrived with several other officers. Husnik’s body was lying on the floor with the revolver still clutched in his hand.

It was quite clear that he had shot himself in the mouth. PC Candlin arranged for the body to be taken to the Dispensary in West Street along with the body of his victim, Margaret Jubb. That afternoon the house surgeon Mr Harry Lockwood, carried out post mortems on both bodies, the results of which were given at the inquest held the following day. The surgeon told the Coroner that the cause of death for Margaret Jubb was internal haemorrhage from the wound in her chest. In the case of Husnik, he gave the cause as two bullet wounds which had passed through his lungs and lodged in his spine.

Mrs Harriett Oates told the inquest that her lodger had been a ‘steady man’ up to three weeks ago. On the previous Sunday she had found him firing a gun at the wall in the back yard. When she asked him what he was doing, he told her that he was testing the revolver to see if it still worked alright. The next witness was the young servant, Mary Ellen Whitaker who told the inquest that Josef had been a frequently visitor to the Royal Hotel on West Street, She said that he was such a frequent visitor that he did not pay for his beer at the bar. Then the young girl described the night in question and finding her mistress shot.

At this point the coroner said that there was little doubt that Margaret Jubb died at the hands of Josef Husnik, even though there were no actual witnesses to the act. He told the jury that the first thing for them to decide was firstly had the deceased man shot Mrs Jubb and secondly what was his state of mind at the time. Police Constable John Candlin told the coroner that on the body he had found a letter and asked permission to read it out. The coroner acquiesced, and it seems that the letter was in the form of a confession which was dated November 29 1886. It stated that the writer, Husnik had been a lodger at the Royal Hotel for two years.

He said that during that time he had been very kind to Mrs Jubb and had often lent her money. The letter claimed that in return, she sent him love letters expressing her feelings for him. They had, at first been very passionate, however for the last five weeks they had quarrelled. Since 27 November she had told him that she only said she loved him for his money as ‘it was very useful to her.’ The letter stated that since that time Husnik had found out that she had done the same to three other men. In conclusion he had written that he had left the other letters from his former paramour at his lodgings to prove that what he had said was true.

The coroner then told the inquest that he had read the letters, and although they were clearly love letters, that Mr Jubb had claimed they were not in his wife’s handwriting. He told the jury that nevertheless it was their duty to decide how these two people came to their deaths. Accordingly the jury returned a verdict that:

‘The woman Margaret Jubb was wilfully murdered by Josef Husnik and that the said Josef Husnik committed suicide by shooting himself. But as to the state of his mind at the time, there is not sufficient evidence to show.’

In a final act to what was now being referred to as the West Street Tragedy, the body of the deceased Austrian was interred in the cemetery at Intake. As he had no relatives in this country it was reported that the burial had been paid for by the Sheffield workhouse authorities. But perhaps what is most poignant of all was that because the service had not been advertised, there were no spectators at the ceremony and no funeral service was read out either in the chapel or at the graveside itself.

The Doncaster Michaelmas Quarter Sessions were being held on Monday 22 October 1849 when a mother and her twelve year old son were brought before the Magistrates. They were both charged with feloniously inciting another twelve year old boy to steal two half crowns at Rotherham, the property of Abraham Jackson. The elder prisoner was a forty five year old woman called Mary Linten who pleaded guilty, although her son, Henry pleaded not guilty to the charge. The prosecution, Mr Overend told the court that he was acting on behalf of his client, Mr Jackson the proprietor of the White Swan on Westgate, Rotherham.

At the time the offence was committed, he said the prisoners lived in a house nearby at a time when Mr Jackson had his nephew Joseph Hobson staying with him. Mr Jackson himself told the court that he understood that the elder prisoner encouraged her son to go out and play with his nephew. He had no objection as both boys were around the same age. What he later established however, was that Mary somehow found out from young Hobson where his uncle kept the public house takings. The boy told her that they were kept in a special drawer at the Inn. It was not long before this evil woman encouraged her son to bet Hobson that he would not be able to take some of his uncles money without being detected.

Mr Overend said that the female prisoner made it seem like a game, but at first Hobson refused to steal from his uncle. However, meeting him in the street one day, Mary told him that she thought that he was a very clever child. She was convinced that his uncle would never even miss the money that had been taken, particularly if he just took a portion of it. This evil woman suggested that if he just took something like a single half crown, and left the rest behind, no one would suspect that it was him. When the nephew demurred, she told him not to worry and that if he was ever found out, Hobson could simply come and live with them.

After much persuasion over the next few days, the nephew finally agreed to do it. Mary convinced him to just steal a half crown and give it to Henry, who was instructed to hand it immediately over to his mother. Finally, under great pressure, the boy gave way and the money was handed over. After praising Hobson again for his astuteness, the female prisoner once again convinced him to do it again and a second half crown was similarly removed successfully. However it was not long before Mary got greedy, and it was on the third attempt that the young nephew was finally caught taking money from the drawer.

At this point Mr Overend reminded the magistrates that although the charge against the younger prisoner was one of incitement to steal, he was in fact only guilty of a lesser offence of aiding and abetting. The prosecution reminded the magistrates that the boy had only committed the offence in the first place under the influence and advice of his mother. Mr Overend therefore suggested that the ends of justice would surely be served by charging the mother alone. With this in mind he said that he proposed therefore not to bring any charges before the court concerning young Henry Linten, to which the court agreed.

Then, it was time for the chairman of the magistrates, Mr E B Dennison MP to address the prisoners. He asked Mary Linten why she had pleaded guilty and she told him that she had received the money and that was all she felt that she was guilty of. Mr Dennison told her:

‘We have no doubt of the fact that you induced your own son to aid you in inciting the boy Hobson to rob his own uncle. For behaving so shamefully to your own child and that of your neighbours, it is the sentence of the court that you be imprisoned with hard labour for six months.’

The prisoner turned to leave, but before she got out of the dock, he told her that on the advice of magistrates on both sides of him, that her son would be set at liberty. The chair concluded that he hoped that

‘His father would now take care and ensure that he is removed from the contaminating influence of such a wretch as you have proved yourself to be.’

Henry Fair worked as a collier’s labourer in Rotherham in March of 1877, where life should have been perfect for him. Six weeks earlier he had married a woman half his age, called Elizabeth Richardson, who despite her young age was already a widow. The wedding had taken place on Sunday 12 February 1877, and the couple settled together in a house in Parkgate. However, since that time they had quarrelled so violently, that they had mutually agreed to separate. Consequently, Elizabeth had gone back to live with her mother and father, Mary and George Richardson on Chapel Street, Parkgate, whilst her husband moved into lodgings in Rotherham.

Henry burned with resentment at what should have been a happy and contented time of his life. On Monday 26 March 1877 he made a most dreadful decision. Going into ironmongers, Messrs Haggard’s shop on the High Street, Rotherham, he asked for 2lbs of blasting powder and a ring of fuse about eight yards long. Mr Haggard, who knew Henry worked as a colliers labourer, thought nothing of supplying him with the dangerous items required. Later that evening when it was already dark, Henry then proceeded to Elizabeth’s fathers house at Parkgate. He then poured the blasting powder into a cellar grating underneath the front window of the house and lit the fuse.

It would be hard to describe his emotions as he was completing his task, as he knew that Elizabeth’s her father also took in lodgers. Therefore he was aware that there would have been at least twelve people in the house at the time. As Henry was lighting the fuse, some children who had been playing nearby, started to shout out a warning to those in the house and consequently some of them rushed outside to see what the matter was. One of them was a lodger who worked at the same colliery as Henry, a man called Thomas Phipps. Henry told him to ‘keep those children back.’ Pointing at the grating he said ‘there’s 20lbs of blasting powder in there, and it will blow us all to hell in about two minutes’.

Without hesitation, Phipps cut the burning fuse and threw it into a nearby pond. George Richardson meanwhile grabbed hold of his son-in-law and held tightly onto him whilst shouting for someone to call the police. Meanwhile George’s brother, Richard who was also at the house, took the grating off and scooped up the powder into a bucket. Incredible as it seem, whilst waiting for the police to arrive, the prisoner got one of the bystanders to buy eight quarts of beer. He shared this with the crowds of people now being attracted to the spot. Thankfully Police Constable Jowett soon arrived and took the prisoner into custody

Henry Fair was brought before magistrate, Mr H Jubb the following day on Tuesday 27 March where he pleaded guilty. The first witness was the police officer who told the court that he had arrested the prisoner at the scene. PC Jowett was asked if the man had been sober at the time, and he gave the bench his opinion that Henry had been drinking at some point, but seemed sober enough to know what he was doing. The officer commented however that throughout the whole proceedings, the prisoner showed absolutely no remorse. In fact, he reported it was just the opposite. All the way to the police station Henry Fair expressed regret that he had not succeeded in his diabolical attempt.

The Chief Constable asked for a remand of seven days for the prisoner which was granted, The case was therefore re-opened on Monday 2 April where the prosecution was Mr C Hoyland, although the prisoner was undefended. Elizabeth Fair was the first witness and she told the court that she had known the prisoner for three years when he lodged at her fathers house. She described him as being very controlling and that five weeks previously she had been forced to take him before the magistrates for using bad language towards her. She stated that he had been bound over to keep the peace for six months. Nevertheless she truly believed that once married, Henry would settle down and make a good husband.

Elizabeth stated that even as a lodger he had been in the habit of drinking too much and she only agreed to marry him on the understanding that he would stop drinking altogether. However within five weeks Henry had broken that promise and since then he had barely been sober. The witness said that at first, she had tried to avoid him, so did not go out of the house for a few days. Then she described hearing the children making a noise outside on the night in question and seeing the powder in the grate. Elizabeth’s younger sister, Ann also described going home on that Monday night and seeing the prisoner lighting a fuse. She ran inside her fathers house and told him what Henry had done.

A lodger called Thomas Phipps also gave evidence of seeing the prisoner near to the Richardson’s house through their front room window. Some children were shouting and looked frightened, so he went outside to see what the matter was. That’s when he saw that the fuse attached to the grating was burning. As an experienced collier, he estimated that it would have taken just two minutes to have ignited the blasting powder. He also knew from experience that it would have blown up the whole house along with all the people inside. Phipps stated also that where the prisoner had been standing at the time, he too would also have been killed in the explosion, if the powder had ignited.

At this point the prisoner pointed out that the powder had not been confined to a small area, but through open grating and therefore Henry argued that it would not have blown the whole house up. He said at the very best it might have blown the grating out of its setting. John Allen, an assistant at Messrs Haggard and Sons at Rotherham gave evidence that at the time the prisoner bought the powder and fuse ‘he appeared confused.’ The bench concluded that Henry Fair was to take his trial at the Assizes for ‘maliciously placing into or against a building a quantity of gunpowder, with intent to do bodily harm.’ Accordingly the prisoner appeared at the Wakefield Sessions on Wednesday 4 April 1877.

Henry’s defence was that he was well experienced in using blasting powder in his line of work and that if he really intended to blow up the house, he would undoubtedly have succeeded. He claimed that instead of having a settled married life, his honeymoon had barely been over before Elizabeth had taken him to court for his controlling behaviour. Henry also stated that his wife had then stripped the house of all the furniture, just leaving him a few necessary items. Despite his denials of any intention to blow up the house, the bench found the prisoner guilty and sentenced him to five years imprisonment.

But that was not the end of Henry Fair.

In May 1877 he was taken to the Model Prison at Pentonville in order to serve his time. However on Monday 27 August, Elizabeth Fair was informed that her former husband had died. It seems that Dr Hardwick the London Coroner had held an inquest into the prisoner who had died at the prison, barely three months into his sentence. Newspaper reports stated that since Henry had arrived, he had slowly declined in health and died on 23 August 1877. After hearing evidence from the staff and other inmates of Pentonville, the verdict was given that Henry Fair ‘died by the visitation of God.’

Sarah Stones had been married to a man called George, although by June of 1877 they had not lived together for the past seven years. Following her own code of conduct, she had numerous affairs, sometimes living with the man concerned and sometimes not. Since March of that year, however she had lived with a twenty seven year old man called John Smith, a steel roller by trade who lived in Millsands, Sheffield. Sarah had hoped to marry him but, it would seem that he was equally fickle in his affections. Prior to that she had also lived with a man called Walter White, but sadly that didn’t end in matrimony either.

On Saturday 16 June, she and Smith were following their usual weekend routine of touring several Sheffield hostelries, and drinking throughout the day. Needless to say both were very drunk before Smith told her that he had enough and was going to leave. He told her that he was already planning to move in to live with another Sheffield woman anyway as he left her alone. Hearing this, Sarah continued to drink hoping to console herself. Suddenly, she was surprised to meet up with her former paramour, the man called Walter White. He lived in Rotherham, so it was not often he came to Sheffield. Needless to say Sarah was delighted to renew her acquaintance with him.

Indeed, the pair got on so well that she ended up taking White home at the end of the evening. They returned back to the same lodgings in which she had lived with John Smith, possibly in revenge for the fact that she now believed he was in the arms of his new lover. Consequently, the pair shared some ale that they had bought back with them, before ending up in bed together. Suddenly, around midnight, Sarah heard a noise and to her complete surprise, Smith walked into the bedroom. Seeing the pair in bed together Smith picked up a piece of iron and smashed White on the head with it, before attacking Sarah with the same implement.

What he hadn’t realised in his agitation was the weapon was a bedstock, a hard, strong metal piece of the bed frame. Sarah screamed so loudly, that the noise attracted two of the other lodgers who broke down the door and pulled the man away from the couple in the bed. The police were called and John Smith was arrested and taken into custody. The police surgeon, Mr Harrison also attended the scene and arranged for Sarah to be taken, by now in an almost unconscious state, to the Infirmary. It was thought for many days, that her recovery was in grave doubt.

Accordingly, John Smith appeared before the Sheffield magistrates at the Town Hall on Monday 25 June, charged with committing a murderous assault upon both Walter White and Sarah Stones. However he was simply remanded for a week. Subsequently on Monday 25 June 1877 Smith was brought back before the bench where thankfully Sarah had, by now recovered from her attack. She was the first to give evidence, and it was reported that some of her injury’s were still evident on her face. The witness described the events of the night and stated that when she took White home, she genuinely thought that Smith would be spending the night with the other woman, as he had threatened.

Sarah then described how the prisoner had attacked White with the heavy piece of iron before turning his attentions to her. She told the court that, as a result she had been confined to bed for some days afterwards. The next witness was Walter White, who also stated that Smith had attacked him first with the iron bar. He claimed that he had simply tried to defend himself, before Smith turned his anger on Sarah, who he pulled out of bed, lashing out and kicking her in a brutal manner about the body. The witness described how all the time he was doing this, he swore at her, stating that ‘he would kill her’ in the process.

The two other, unnamed lodgers then gave their evidence and described how they had been forced to break down the door. The police surgeon Mr Harrison gave the court a list of injuries that both White and Sarah had received at the hands of the prisoner and told the bench that for some days, her life in particular had been in great danger. After hearing from these witnesses, John Smith was ordered to take his trial and the next Sessions. Consequently, on Friday 6 July 1877, the prisoner was brought before the Rotherham Midsummer Sessions at the Court House in Rotherham.

He was charged:

‘firstly with the unlawfully and maliciously wounding of Sarah Stones on the night of 16 June and secondly with attacking Walter White at the same time and place.’

Mr Fenwick prosecuted the case and described the events of that evening. After hearing all the evidence the jury found the prisoner guilty of the two assaults consequently, the chair to the magistrate Mr W Overend sentenced John Smith to twelve months imprisonment with hard labour.

The night of Sunday 15 September 1907 was a quiet and peaceful night in Mexborough, as three police officers met near the Prince of Wales theatre around 10.30 pm. It was a regular meeting place at the top of the High Street, where these officers could have a quiet smoke before continuing with their night time shift. This informal meeting place also gave Sergeant Matthews a chance to have an update with his men during their night patrol. Accordingly, he handed round his cigarette packet to his brother officers, Police Constables Haigh and Burrows. However they barely had time to take a first drag before a man approached them.

Sergeant Matthews quickly noted that the man was waving a gun about in a menacing manner.
To his horror he saw the man stop and take aim at him and from almost point blank range the sergeant was shot. As he registered what was about to happen, he automatically turned away, thereby ensuring that the bullet entered the side of his body. At the same time, PC Haigh quickly lunged at the assailant as he too became a target. Thankfully the bullet aimed at him was deflected by a button on his tunic, glancing off his wrist in the process. A third shot simply went through PC Burrows tunic sleeve, before he threw his police lamp at the assailant, hitting him in the face.

The man, who was later identified as Harold Carr, a twenty two year old miner who lived with his mother in Flowitt Street, Mexborough, made off and ran down the High Street. However he had not got far before a fourth officer, PC Ellithorn appeared on the scene. He had been attracted to the spot by the sound of gunfire. Ellithorn too, threw his lamp at the fleeing man, who was quickly overpowered and dragged down onto the floor. There, he was disarmed and handcuffed, before being summarily marched to the police station. By this stage the noise of the shots had reverberated around this quiet night, resulting in several local people gathering around the three offices.

A cab was called, which quickly conveyed Sergeant Matthews to the Montague Hospital.
Police enquiries quickly established that Carr was well known to the Mexborough Police and just a few weeks earlier had threatened to ‘do for’ Sergeant Matthews, who had recently summoned him for using bad language in the street. However that amiable and popular officer had taken little notice of Carr’s threats. Meanwhile the gun was examined and it was found that three bullets out of the six chambered weapon had been fired. When taken to the police station and searched, the prisoner had a further seven bullets in his pocket, indicating that the attack had been pre-meditated.

The prisoner was informed that the following day he would be taken before the Doncaster Magistrates Court, charged with attempting to murder Sergeant Matthews and Police Constables Haigh and Burrows. Accordingly, the following morning Carr was brought out of the police station and stepping outside, was was astonished to see a large crowd assembled in front of the entrance. They were made up of local people all anxious to see the prisoner. The prisoner was still handcuffed as he was placed on the 10.17 am Doncaster train. Once in court, Carr showed no remorse as he stated that he was just sorry that he had not killed the sergeant.

One reporter described Harold Carr as being ‘a thickset youth who appeared to be labouring under the impression that he had been very badly treated by his victim.’ For many days after the attack, the condition of the sergeant was looking quite serious. The surgeon treating him, Dr Dunlop stated to a reporter that the officer was doing as well as could be expected under the circumstance. He said that no effort had been made to extract the bullet, which was situated on his right side just above his liver. However he added that it was hoped that the patient, once he was fully recovered, would be operated upon to remove the bullet.

Meanwhile, Carr was brought into the magistrates court at Doncaster where PC Haigh was the first witness who described the events of the previous night. He stated that there was no attempt to disguise what the prisoner was about to do as he approached them and stood in the middle of the road. He shouted ‘Now Matthews, I have come to kill you’ as he lifted up the gun to take aim. At this point the prisoner interrupted and denied saying anything of the sort. Nevertheless after hearing from other witnesses, the bench found Harold Carr guilty and sent him to take his trial at the next Assizes.

Carr experienced two more remands over the next couple of weeks although thankfully, by the end of September 1907, it was reported that the sergeant had finally had the bullet removed. However prior to this, on Wednesday 9 October it was announced that the four police officers, the sergeant and the three constables had received a Merit Badge for their courage in the attack. (This badge was the equivalent of a Victoria Cross). The four officer had been given this prestigious award from the Chief Constable himself, Captain Metcalfe. However it was not until Friday 11 October that the case was finally brought before the Doncaster magistrates,

Superintendent Hicks acted as the prosecution and he outlined the facts for the bench and described the desperate struggle which had taken place to finally subdue the prisoner. Sergeant Matthews was in attendance and gave his own evidence. That officer stated that he had known Carr for about three years and that he was a man who had been in the habit of taking too much drink. When sober, he was a quiet and inoffensive man who usually drank to excess at the weekends. After hearing the accounts of all the officers involved, the prisoner was committed to take his trial at the Assizes. Accordingly Harold Carr was brought before the judge, Mr Justice Phillimore at the Leeds Assizes on Monday 25 November 1907.

It was reported that the prisoner did not give the impression of being at all disturbed by finding himself in such a serious position. When asked if he had anything to say, he simply stated that he was ‘so drunk he did not know what he was doing.’ The prosecution, Mr C Yarborough told the court that ‘it was the most deliberate attempt to kill a man that they had ever heard of. It was only by mere chance that Carr was not facing a more serious charge.’ After outlining the case for the jury, Mr Yarborough added that the conduct of the police officers was ‘the pluckiest that had come to their knowledge.’

He stated that each officer knew that he was risking his life in tackling the prisoner, but that not one of them had hesitated. Dr J Huey described how, when the sergeant arrived at his surgery that his belt was full of blood. He said that blood was also coming from the wound and that they had difficulty in finding the bullet. In the end an x-ray machine had to be used to locate it. The x-ray specialist then gave evidence that the bullet had travelled eight inches from the point of entry and was found embedded in the muscles of the patients back. However the prisoner still used the same excuse to defend himself. He claimed that he had been ‘boozing solid’ for two weeks before the incident. Mr Justice Phillimore told the jury that excessive drinking could not be used as an alibi.

However he did asked the jury to consider what was the prisoners state of mind at the time of the shooting. The jury did not hesitate to return a verdict that Harold Carr was guilty of shooting with a clear intent to kill. They added a recommendation that the police officers concerned should be recommended for their bravery in following the armed prisoner. It was only at this point did it seem that Carr expressed any remorse for his actions as he pleaded for mercy. The prisoner added that he was glad that the sergeant had ‘been able to get about again.’ But it was all too late. The judge sentenced Harold Carr to 15 years imprisonment for intentionally shooting at three officers with a deliberate intent to kill them all.

Keziah Beal was twenty eight years of age in January of 1877 when she was described as being ‘a woman of medium height, thin with a light complexion.’ At the time she had escaped from Wadsley Asylum and in most of the reports she was simply referred to as ‘the missing lunatic.’ This was a title more in keeping with societies views of such people at the time. It seems that she was well known to the authorities as this was her fourth escape from Wadsley. As a result, a notice was placed in the Sheffield Daily Telegraph dated Tuesday 23 January stating that Keziah had run away at sometime in the evening of 4 January. The report asked for news of her, as it seems that she had escaped through a window in that institution.

On previous escapes, Keziah had been quickly traced as she tended to head towards her parents house at Deepcar, Sheffield. However on this occasion she was still missing by 20 March. Her father, James Rydel appeared to care for his daughter as he also inserted a notice requesting that ‘the smallest clue to her whereabouts will be most eagerly and thankfully received.’ Sadly on this final escape the case did not end well, as it was another three months before finally her decomposing remains were discovered in a drift pit at Deepcar on 14 June 1877. It was quickly apparent that her decomposing remains had been in situ for the whole six months that she had been missing.

As a result, the Coroner, Mr D Wightman held an inquest at the Royal Oak, Deepcar on Friday 15 June 1877. However there was little he could do as there was no official from Wadsley Asylum present at the enquiry. Therefore the coroner was forced to adjourn the inquest to the following Monday 18 June. It seems that Keziah had first been admitted to the asylum around the beginning of 1876 suffering from what was termed melancholia, which we would now call depression. At first she was placed in the sick ward, but after making threats that she intended to escape as soon as she could, she was transferred into the refractory ward.

This was a punishment ward situated on the floor above the sick ward, and used by inmates who were known to be disobedient or disruptive. However once Keziah threatened to throw herself out of the window, asylum staff were forced to put her back in the sick ward again, so that she could be constantly monitored. At the resumed inquest, the first witness was her father James Rydel and he told the coroner Mr Wightman that his daughter was the widow of a deceased labourer called Luke Beal. The witness admitted that he had been unable to definitely identify the body, due to the state of decomposition, but he had no doubt that it was his daughter.

One of the nurses at Wadsley called Mildred Hall told the inquest that she had identified the body, as it was wearing clothes which had been issued by the asylum. She told the inquest that she had been in Keziah’s room around 7.30 pm on the night she disappeared. Mildred described how she had gone to the kitchen and about twelve minutes later was told that her patient had gone. It seems that some workmen had been replacing some new panes in the window and Keziah had cleverly removed the still wet putty from a window after workmen had gone. Cleverly she had done this during the day time when staff were still about. Once it had grown dark, she had removed one of the panes and made her escape.

The coroner then questioned Mildred about a previous attempt which her patient had made. She told him that on that occasion, Keziah had climbed through the iron railings of the exercise yard at Wadsley. Once free, she was obviously making her way towards her parents house at Deepcar once again as she had been found at Stocksbridge. The nurse Mildred told the coroner that upon hearing that the patient was missing in January she had gone to her parents house. There she spoke to her mother and asked her if her daughter was there as she wanted the asylums clothing back, but Mrs Rydel knew nothing about her daughters whereabouts.

Dr Mitchell the Medical Superintendent of Wadsley stated that after this latest attempt he had gained discharge papers for Keziah as being too difficult to contain her safely. He explained to the coroner that due to her many attempts to escape she had displayed real cunning. The superintendent added that ‘in that respect she was of very sound mind.’ He went out to explain that once he had heard that she was missing he had sent twelve nurses out to look for her and to bring her back. He had high hopes of finding her as there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. They managed to trace her footprints to the boundary wall, but they could not be traced any further.

Mr Wightman then enquired as to why Keziah’s parents had not been notified that she was missing for four days after she had gone. Dr Mitchell said that as her footsteps to the boundary wall pointed in the direction of her parents house, he assumed she was, once again with her family. He reminded the inquest that she had always headed towards Deepcar on similar attempts. He added that at the time he was in possession of her discharge papers which had been dated 15 December, so he assumed that the law would allow her to stay at home.

When it was time for the coroner to sum up, he told the jury that he was satisfied in his own mind that the asylum was conducted on proper lines. Mr Wightman said that the evidence had shown that Wadsley Asylum was ‘conducted with all the care that could possibly be.’ He emphasised that ‘no more care could be possibly taken to prevent the escape of lunatics generally.’ The jury consulted before returning a verdict that Keziah Beal had died from cold and exposure, being at the time, a person of unsound mind. However they added that whilst no one was to blame, they felt that Dr Mitchell should have warned Keziah’s parents sooner then he did of her escape.

The Sheffield Daily Telegraph dated Monday 13 September 1886 held an exiting account of a capture of a thief by a hotel landlord. He was Mr Richard Elliott who, at the time, was the proprietor of the Black Swan, Snighill, Sheffield. The hotel was a thriving business and consequently the staff were quite busy on the night of Friday 10 September around 8 pm. Elliott was busy serving in the smoke room, when he saw a thirty five year old man he knew called James Richardson enter the bar. The landlord’s antenna was immediately aroused, as he was convinced that the same person had carried out a burglary at the hotel three years previously.

So, when Elliott saw the man go out of the bar and head towards the men’s toilets, he told the barman and a waiter to quickly follow him. The two men saw the customer enter the men’s toilet, which was situated at the bottom of the stairs leading to the bedrooms. They waited and watched, hiding behind a large cupboard. Their wait was rewarded when they saw Richardson come out of the toilet and proceed quietly upstairs to the bedrooms. Elliott meanwhile was still serving in the bar when a few moments later, he heard a loud clattering noise coming from outside in the yard. Handing the customer his pint, the landlord rushed outside to find Richardson sprawled out on the cobbles.

He had obviously jumped from one of the bedrooms, as one of the windows was still open. To his great annoyance, the hotel proprietor saw it was the window to his own bedroom. The burglar was now groaning in pain, as his captor most unsympathetically pulled him to his feet. Richardson cried out, but showing little sympathy, Elliott told him ‘you are alright, the only mistake you made is that you have come here once too often.’ The police were called and the prisoner was confined in a back room until an officer arrived. When Elliott went to his own bedroom, he could not help but notice that the top drawer of a chest of drawers had been jemmied open and some of the contents missing.

Thankfully it was not long before Detective Baker arrived and he and the landlord took the thief into custody. Arriving at the Charge Room at the Town Hall, the prisoner was searched. Elliott was almost dumbfounded by the number of items which were found on Richardson. He told Detective Baker that the man must have been a most accomplished burglar as he had only been upstairs ten minutes at the most. Placing the items in the small pile, they found a cigar case, a pair of glasses, a purse containing three foreign coins and some cuff links, items which were later calculated to the value of £80. Elliott told the prisoner ‘I have been waiting for you for two years. You are the same man who robbed the house once before.’

Detective Baker took Richardson away, still protesting his innocence all the way the Town Hall. Once charged, Richardson was soon placed in on of the cells below. Consequently, the prisoner was brought before the Sheffield magistrates on Saturday 11 September 1886. However they were to find this prisoner a most unusual thief. Appearing in the courtroom, one local newspaper described him as being ‘a tall, well dressed man in a light suit, who gave his name as James Richardson and said he was a confectioner of City Road, London.’ The Chief Constable Mr John Jackson produced a chisel which had been found on the prisoner, and stated that the marks on the drawers corresponded with the same implement.

He told the bench that the prisoner had been probably been busy robbing the bedroom when he heard a noise from the two staff following him up the stairs. In order to make his escape, he had consequently jumped out of the bedroom window. Mr Jackson then asked for a remand for the prisoner for a week in order to enquire into his record, which was granted. It was a good job that he did. During that time it was quickly established that James Richardson had several convictions for public house robberies. On Saturday 18 September 1886 the prisoner was brought back into court where various witnesses, whose bedrooms at the Black Swan had been entered, then gave their evidence.

One was a veterinary surgeon called Mr Joseph Absom who had been staying in bedroom number two. He stated how on the day in question, he had been out all day from 8 am to 9 pm. When he returned back, he discovered his writing desk had been broken open. Although nothing was missing from the desk, several items of clothing had been removed to the value of £15. Another witness Andrew Clayton stated that he had been in bedroom number six when the prisoner entered. Seeing the man in bed, the thief apologised stating that he had gone into the wrong bedroom. Other witnesses also swore to seeing the prisoner in the bar on the night in question.

However what was most curious about this crime was that some other people staying at the hotel claimed that some expensive items of jewellery had been stolen from them, which were never recovered by the police. Nevertheless the evidence against James Richardson was so complete that he was committed to take his trial. Subsequently, on Friday 15 October 1886 the prisoner was brought before the Sheffield Quarter Sessions. At first he claimed intoxication as a reason for the crime. He stated that he had been drinking for two days and had fallen out of a window whilst walking along an upstairs passage. Seeing that this was not going to gain him any sympathy, Richardson then changed his story.

The prisoner now claimed that whilst lying on the cobbles of the yard, he was in a very stunned state. He remembered being picked up by two men, but did not know where he was until he felt someone’s hands in his pockets. Richardson concluded that he had never seen most of the jewellery which he had been accused of stealing. Instead he said that the real thief had escaped with most of the expensive booty, leaving just a few paltry items in his pocket for the police to find. The prisoners defence, Mr Ellison admitted that his clients admission was most improbable, but that didn’t make it untrue. He reminded the court that there was no evidence of him having any of the most valuable pieces on his person. However the Chief Constable suggested that the prisoner might have either hidden them somewhere inside the hotel, in order to arrange for an accomplice to later taken them away.

His defence also pointed out that the landlord claims he had only been in the upstairs area for ten minutes before he heard the sounds in the yard was equally as improbable. The Recorder, in summing up the case admitted that the prisoners defence was difficult to believe, particularly given his abysmal criminal record. Mr Jackson had by this time established that James Richardson had committed similar thefts at Liverpool, Derby and Derby and other places. For these crimes the prisoner was wanted by the police forces of Liverpool, Wigan and Derby. The jury, without hesitation found the prisoner guilty. Accordingly, the Recorder sentenced him to imprisonment for twelve months with hard labour.

There had been so many reported stabbings in Rotherham of 1861 that the Sheffield Daily Telegraph dated Tuesday 23 April was forced to comment about it. Under the heading of ‘Another Serious Stabbing Case’ the reporter noted that the town:

‘Had been lately gaining an unenviable notoriety from the numerous instances on the use of a knife. On Sunday evening, another lamentable case of this kind occurred, and one in which it is feared will end fatally.’

The name of the person concerned was twenty seven year old Michael Deavers who, had been stabbed by a twenty eight year old acquaintance called Isaac Prendergast. It was reported that both local men worked as labourers at the Parkgate Ironworks and had formerly been great friends. Also, they were both were married men with children. Needless to say the results of such knife crimes made a devastating impact on the families of both victim and perpetrator alike. It was stated that Deavers left a wife and three children and Prendergast, a wife and two young children. As often happens, a drunken quarrel had developed between the two men on the evening of Saturday 20 April 1861.

They had both been drinking, firstly at the Wellington Inn, Westgate and then at the nearby house of a workmate, someone called John Martin. As a result neither of them were particularly sober, nor could remember what had actually started the argument. What was clear was that, at some point Prendergast went to smack Deavers although thankfully he ran away down a backyard and hid until his opponent had gone. The next day Deavers was walking to Parkgate when he met Prendergast again. He was standing talking to three or four other men and Prendergast challenged his former friend once more to a fight. Deavers had no wish to renew the argument, but he could see that his opponent was intent on it.

As if to prove it, Prendergast brought his knife out and threatened his workmate that he would ‘stick him if he came anywhere near him.’ With that, the two men began to scuffle with each other during which Deavers received a stab in his side. He was taken to his house nearby by two of his companions, and Dr Henry Darwin of the Rotherham Dispensary was called out to attend to him. The surgeon found that the knife had penetrated the second and third ribs of the injured man and probably had penetrated his lungs or spleen as a result. Prendergast, having seen what he had done, rapidly made his escape. However he was apprehended by police officers around 2 am, hiding under the bed at his lodgings on Westgate.

Later the same day Isaac Prendergast was brought before the Rotherham magistrates where he was formally remanded in custody until the following day. However Deavers’ condition deteriorated so badly that it was deemed necessary for someone to take his dying deposition. Accordingly, the Rev. W Howard went to his home on Monday 22 April. Prendergast was also in attendance in the custody of a police officer. In such circumstances the Rev. Howard reminded the dying man that he was not expected to live. This was a normal procedure, as it was thought that on the brink of eternity, most people would be forced to tell the truth.

As if to confirm this, Deavers first words were ‘I believe I shall die’ before he outlined the quarrel that had taken place. He described the fight stating that at one time he was on the floor holding onto Prendergast’s hair, as his opponent had his hands around his neck. Suddenly, Deavers confirmed that he had felt his former friend stab him, before two other men separated them and he went home. On Monday 6 May 1861, Isaac Prendergast was brought before the Rotherham magistrates charged with stabbing Michael Deavers with intent to murder him. Dr Henry Darwin told the court that on Sunday 21 April around 5.30 am he had gone to see the injured man and found him suffering from a stab on his left hand side.

The surgeon told the bench that he had dealt with the man’s loss of blood and did his best to make him comfortable. Police Constable George Kershaw of the Rotherham police force described arresting Prendergast on Monday 22 April and taking him into custody. When charged with the offence, the prisoner had told him that ‘he might be charged with it, but he didn’t do it.’
Nevertheless after hearing all the evidence, Isaac Prendergast was committed to take his trial at the next assizes. Subsequently he was brought before the judge, Mr Baron Wilde at the Yorkshire Assizes on Saturday 11 July 1861.

He was charged with the lesser crime of cutting and wounding and Mr Vernon Blackburn was the prosecution, who outlined the case for the court. After hearing all the evidence, the Grand Jury found the prisoner guilty although sentencing was deferred. Isaac Prendergast was consequently brought back into the assize courtroom on Monday 13 July. Mr Baron Wilde addressed the prisoner and told him that he had thought long and hard about this matter, but had come to the conclusion that it had been a case of ‘six of one and half a dozen of the other.’

He told the court that all too often when men had been drinking and were carrying knives, that a stabbing which ended fatally was usually the outcome. Thankfully in this case the injured man, Michael Deavers had fully recovered. However in order to teach Isaac Prendergast a lesson, the judge ordered him to be sentenced to just one months confinement in York Castle prison.

On the night of Saturday 29 January 1791, post boy George Leasley arrived at the Ickles, a deserted spot between Rotherham and Attercliffe Common, Sheffield. Suddenly the young man was stopped by a robber and roughly pulled off the mail cart. He had his hands and feet bound with cord and a handkerchief tied over his eyes. Leasley was then tied to a strong hedge and told not to move or try to escape for two hours, when an accomplice would safely release him. However this plucky lad only waited a short while before successfully releasing himself.

The post boy found the horse a short distance away, but the Rotherham mail had gone. He proceeded to alert the police at Rotherham, where a search was quickly made for the man responsible. Leasley described him as being dressed in a smock frock with a white cap on his head. The Rotherham post bag was later found underneath the arch of a bridge over a brook. Thankfully the letters had fallen where it was relatively dry, so the mail was still readable. The letters had all been opened and the only one found to be missing was a cheque from Messrs Walkers and Son for the sum of £123.

This was a massive amount of money for the time and the equivalent of £23,500 today. It was therefore supposed that the robber would have difficulty in cashing it undetected. However this proved not to be case. A few days later, the company was informed that the cheque had been cashed in London just thirty six hours after it had been stolen. Extensive enquiries finally resulted some months later in two men being implicated in the robbery. They were Spence Broughton and John Oxley, who were found living together in a house on Tottenham Court Road, London. On Monday 20 October 1791 they were brought before the Public Office in Bow Street and were interrogated by man called Sir Sampson Wright.

John Oxley stated that five or six days before the robbery of the Rotherham mail, Spence Broughton had mentioned to him that he was very familiar with the area between Sheffield and Rotherham. He suggested that they robbed the mail coach which travelled over the remote areas between the two towns. Oxley agreed and the pair made their plans accordingly. He told Sir Sampson Wright that he and Broughton reached Sheffield on Friday 28 January 1791 and spent the night there. The next day they were walking towards Rotherham, when the mail coach passed them at the Ickles.

Taking this as a sign, they determined to rob it on its return journey. Oxley described how Broughton had pulled out a smock frock and hat which he usually carried with him to don as a disguise. He then physically pulled a gate off the hinges to a nearby field. He did this with the intention of bringing the post boy and the coach into that field to rob it. Broughton then gave his coat to Oxley and told him to wait in a corner of the field. According to the plan, he then robbed the mail coach before the two robbers headed in the direction of Mansfield.

Oxley described how, after reaching a quiet little place, they opened the letters they had stolen and found the cheque for £123. The rest they threw away. After hearing the evidence, Sir Samson Wright handed the two men over and they were placed in custody. Broughton was imprisoned in Newgate and John Oxley was sent to Clerkenwell prison. However it was not long before Oxley escaped and disappeared into the night, leaving Broughton to face the charges alone. Accordingly on Monday 16 March 1792 Spence Broughton was taken to York under a very strong guard. He was imprisoned in the castle in order to wait until the Assizes began.

The prisoner was brought before the judge, Mr Justice Buller just over a week later on Saturday 24 March. After hearing all the evidence, the judge sentenced him to be executed and ordered that his body was to be hung in chains on Attercliffe Common, as a warning to others intent on following his example. The judge gave his reason for hanging the executed body in chains. He said that:

‘In order to deter others, his punishment should not cease at the place of execution, but his body should be suspended between Heaven and earth, as unworthy of either, to be buffeted by winds and storms.’

Accordingly Spence Broughton was executed at Knavesmere, York, a place that became infamously known as the ‘York Tyburn’ on Wednesday 18 April 1792. It was reported that to the last, his behaviour ‘was marked with a degree of fortitude and resignation, seldom observed in persons in such unfortunate circumstances.’ His body was then removed from York to Attercliffe Common where it was hung in a gibbet. This was a cage like shape, made up of chains and metal bars which were placed around the dead body. Then the whole thing was suspended into the air attached to a large pole. This resulted in the remains being visible for miles around.

On the night before his execution Spence Broughton wrote a letter to his wife Eliza, which was printed in the Sheffield Register dated 20 April 1792. In it he expresses how he is not afraid to die, but that:

‘The one thing that chills me with horror, when I reflect my poor remains must not sleep in peace, but be buffeted by the storms of heaven or parched by the summer sun, while the traveller shrinks from them with disgust and terror. This considerably freezes my blood.’

He had every right to dread this part of his execution. It was quickly reported that such was Spence Broughton’s notoriety, that many thousands of people walked from both towns of Rotherham and Sheffield to view the grisly remains. Indeed it was recorded that 40,000 local people went to view it in the first few days alone. It was also stated that ‘the public houses of Attercliffe and Rotherham will have plenty of reason to rejoice in the event.’

Incredibly the short life of Spence Broughton was not remembered just for the gruesome way in which his body was treated after death. It was more for the fact that his gradually decomposing body was left hanging in the gibbet for THIRTY SIX years. Indeed, it was only removed in 1827 by the landowner Henry Sorby, who finally got tired of people trespassing over his land in order to view the macabre remains!