In March of 1782 a man called Nathan Andrews had a jewellers shop at the top of the High Street, Sheffield. Among those who lingered in front to the jewellers window ogling the contents, was a young apprentice called Frank Fearne. He lived at Bradfield along with several members of his own family. He was a young man with an eye to the easy life and that month he came up with a plan to enrich himself. Going inside the shop, he convinced Andrews that he had started a ‘watch club’ in Bradfield and was looking for someone to supply the watches. These clubs was for people who could not pay the full cost of an expensive watch outright, but would instead be supplied with the item and pay a small sum every week, until it was paid for.

Fearne told Andrews that he himself was a member of such a club and there were at least twenty more interested customers. Andrews, with an eye to a bargain, quickly agreed to supply the watches that were needed. The area around the village of Bradfield in those days was far more wild and lonely that it is in the present day, but Andrews had no concerns as the pair set off. Around 4 pm they had almost reached the area known as Kirk Ridge when Fearne saw and greeted an acquaintance of his, a young fellow named Wood. Shortly afterwards, he complained of having a pain in his side and fell behind his companion. Consequently Andrews did not see as Fearne pulled out a pistol and shot him in the back.

He fell to the ground and in order to make sure his victim was dead, his companion stabbed him several times before taking up a heavy hedge stick and beating out his brains. Once Fearne had assured himself that Andrews was dead, he rifled his pockets and took possession of all the watches the jeweller had in his pockets. Then the apprentice left Sheffield altogether. However what the murderer had not anticipated was that Andrews should be found as quickly as he was. Within a couple of hours the body had been recovered and taken to the mortuary of a neighbouring workhouse.

So when Wood read the description of the murdered man in the local newspapers a day or so later, he immediately recognised him as the same companion he had last seen with Frank Fearne. He gave this information to the Sheffield police and was invited to identify the remains. Only when he reached the workhouse did Wood see clearly the man he had seen with Fearne a few hours earlier. Needless to say, the Coroner was informed and an inquest was held on the body. After hearing all the evidence, the jury brought in a verdict of manslaughter. Meanwhile Fearne, thinking he was now safe had since returned back to Bradfield to visit his relatives.

He did not know that Wood had given his description to the Sheffield police. Consequently he was shocked a night or two later when he was visited by two constables and taken into custody for the murder. However his fate was sealed when they made a search of his rooms and found some of the missing, stolen watches. Fearne had been in bed and was still in his bedclothes, so he was ordered to dress and handcuffed before being marched off to the old Sheffield Town Hall. This building, which was pulled down in 1808, stood slightly within the Parish Churchyard and partly projected out into the middle of the road.

A description of the building was given in the newspapers of the time. It seems that the ground floor held three cells and in one of them Fearne was placed:

The cell itself was one of the largest, which was still only eight feet, six inches in diameter and had little light, even at noon-day penetrated inside. These cells were so dark that gaolers were obliged to take a candle in with them when inspecting the prisoners or taking them food.’

The same description also states that the present Town Hall (1782) was reached by a set of steps and it was common for local people to make, or listen to, speeches made from the top of these stairs. It was known that William Wilberforce had made a speech condemning slavery from those very steps. Also adjoining the Town Hall and facing down the High Street were a set of stocks. These were put into use regularly by the Vicar of Sheffield as Justice of the Peace to punish those who had been guilty of minor offences against the law. These same stocks were later removed and erected in Paradise Square.

Frank Fearne remained locked up in this cell at the Town Hall, until he was removed to York Castle to take his trial. At his trial, Judge Eyre listened to all the evidence, which was mostly circumstantial (as no one had actually witnessed the murder) before sentencing the prisoner to death. Frank Fearne was hanged on the gallows at York, the judge ordering that after his execution had been carried out that his body should be handed over to the anatomists for dissection. However as a deterrent to others, before he died the same judge changed the sentence to:

‘After death, his body should be hanged in chains inside a gibbet which was to be erected in some conspicuous spot on Loxley Common in the parish of Ecclesfield, in the county of York, at a convenient distance from the highway.’

Consequently Frank Fearne was kept at the Town Hall for another week whilst his gibbet was made. On the day of his execution he was told that three other felons would be hanged at the same time. Just before the executioner placed the white cap over his head, Fearne held held up his hands before taking off his shoes and tossing them amongst the crowd, waiting to see him hung. He told them ‘my master often said I would die with my shoes on, so I have pulled them off to make him a liar.’

After hanging, Fearne’s body was brought from York already fastened up in the iron gibbet. This ghastly cavalcade journeyed through the town of Sheffield, before arriving at Loxley Common. This cage and its grisly contents was then erected ‘swinging and creaking in the rough winds that almost always blow in that exposed and dreary region.’ It hung there until Christmas Day of 1797 when the gibbet finally disintegrated and it and the remains fell to the ground.

To read about Spence Broughton’s equally grisly death, check out the post on my website dated 11 January 2025.

The White Hart Inn in Rotherham is only of the oldest licensed houses in the town, as it stands in between the church steps leading into College Street and Church Street itself. It has long been a favoured and well patronised watering hole by both locals and visitors to the town. On Saturday 13 November 1886 the town of Rotherham was mostly quiet and the only people around were those visiting the local pubs in the town centre. Needless to say, the White Hart Inn was doing a good trade as landlord Mr Harry Smith and his wife Harriet, along with the barmen were kept busy filling pots of ale and dispensing spirits to thirsty customers.

As well as the patrons in the bar there was also a party going on upstairs, so as well as serving in the bar room downstairs, staff and customers were also kept busy going upstairs to the clubroom. It was around 9.30 pm when Harriet had occasion to go to her bedroom. As she climbed the stairs she could not help but notice that her bedroom door was around six inches ajar. Pushing the door fully open and entering the darkened room, she saw a man standing there. Harriet immediately asked him what he was doing and told him he had no business in that room. The man muttered something about ‘going into the wrong room by mistake’ but as he was talking he suddenly pushed against the landlady.

Harriet was having none of it and held onto him tightly clasping her arms around his waist. She screamed and shouted for help at the same time as the man struggled to free himself. Thankfully Harry heard his wife’s cries and soon rescued her. The burglar was captured and held by one of the barmen. Only when he was detained, did the landlady go inside the room to see what was missing. Thankfully she knew that was the only room in which Smith could have entered, as all the other bedrooms were secure. Inside, she found two of her locked drawers had been forced open with some kind of implement, and a gold watch and chain taken from the stand on top of the chest of drawers.

By this time news of the plucky actions of the landlady had been circulated and, as a result quite a crowd had collected along Church Street. They were just in time to see the prisoner being marched to the Rotherham police station by two officers, Police Constables Stainsby and Hepburn. The crowd followed and shouted and jeered at the prisoner all the way to the station. Once there, he gave his name as William Smith. A description of the prisoner was issued to all the local police stations in the area. He was described as being around thirty five years of age and about 5 feet 5 inches in height. It was reported that there was a cut mark in the centre of his chin and appeared to be well built and of respectable appearance.

Once at the station, the prisoner was searched and the inside pocket of his jacket a jemmy was found and in the other pocket was the landlady’s gold watch and chain. A spare pair of socks were also found, which many burglars of the period would fit over their shoes to muffle their footsteps if required. In his absence a leather satchel which contained £3 or £4 was later found hidden on the landing where the prisoner had been captured. That same evening Detective Inspector William Smith arrived from Sheffield and identified the prisoner as being his namesake. He told his colleagues that the man had only been released from Wakefield prison the previous July where he had been incarcerated for twelve months for a similar offence.

Consequently, burglar William Smith appeared before the magistrates at the Rotherham Borough Police Court on Monday 15 November, simply giving his address as ‘living in Sheffield.’ He was charged with burglary and it was reported that in total he had stolen goods up to the amount of £23.
When asked if he had anything to say in his own defence, the prisoner pointed out to the court that he had not used any violence towards the landlady when he had been captured. Witnesses confirmed how Mrs Smith had held onto the burglar until help arrived. As a result, Smith was remanded until Thursday 18 November 1886. When he next appeared, the prosecution, Mr F Marsh brought forward the same witnesses who gave same evidence.

However just as Mrs Harriet Smith was about to be called upon, the prisoner asked for an adjournment in order that he could change his plea to guilty and to appoint a counsel to defend him. However his request was denied, as if the prisoner might be found guilty and sent to take his trial, a defence counsel would be appointed for him anyway. Smith also claimed in mitigation that he had only used the jemmy on two of the drawers. However the bench were having none of it and he was committed to take his trial at the next Sheffield Sessions. The chair to the magistrates, Mr Neill also complimented Mrs Harriet Smith on her brave capture and the courage which she had displayed.

The Sheffield Weekly Telegraph picked up the theme of the same surnames in its edition published on Saturday 27 November 1886. Some clever reporter stated that instead of the well known saying ‘Set a Thief to catch a Thief’ it should now be quoted as ‘Set a Smith to Catch a Smith.’ He pointed out that:

‘Landlady, Mrs Harriet Smith found burglar William Smith in the bedroom of the White hart at Rotherham. Landlord Mr Henry Smith caught fast hold of William Smith and prevented him from escaping as his wife called in the local police. Detective Inspector Smith (also called William) of the Sheffield Police force immediately recognised William Smith, a well known local burglar.’

However the matter came to an end on Saturday 4 March 1886 at the Sheffield Sessions when burglar William Smith was sentenced to twelve months imprisonment with hard labour at the Wakefield House of Correction.

On the morning of Sunday 7 October 1883 a forty five year old man called William Ratcliffe was found lying in the gutter of his house in a court off Boden Lane, Sheffield. Local newspapers described the yard as being ‘one of those miserable looking courts off Rockingham Street and one of the worst of its class in the town.’ The man was unconscious and multiple bruises were found about his head, so it was suspected that he had been attacked. Ratcliffe had also earned a reputation in the area as being a bit of a performer. He claimed to be a fortune teller and had also appeared as a ‘bearded lady’ travelling the country and appearing in various theatres and music halls under the name Poll Ratcliffe.

However because of his disreputable lifestyle, the deceased man had developed a reputation as being a bit of a wastrel. It was known that in his youth his doting father had given him £10 in order to forward his prospects. At first Ratcliffe had worked assiduously until he married a woman with some money of her own, and that was when he took up more idle pursuits. He squandered the money and, as a result his wife had left him years earlier. According to local gossip she was now living in America. Local newspapers also pointed out that Ratcliffe had a very effeminate appearance with his small face, thin long hands and an effeminate mode of speech.

This also added to the way in which he was successful by earning a living as a female impersonator. It was also rumoured that at one time Ratcliffe had walked about the streets of Sheffield dressed as a woman. At the same time he was known to eke out an existence by gathering herbs which he sold when telling fortunes in the public houses of the town. It was also reported at the time that:

‘Ratcliffe’s vaunted powers as a herbalist and a fortune teller do not appear to have caused him to be feared like the witches of old were by the lower classes. However he has been an object of scorn and banter to many “roughs” on account of his womanish ways. Altogether he was an extraordinary character and just as his career was singular, so is his death shocking.’

It was also known that Ratcliffe’s usual habits were to go to a public house called Wallace’s Vaults in Campo Lane, Sheffield. Sometimes, if he had no money to purchase beer, the landlord would often allow him to sit down and ‘hold court’ at one of the tables in the bar area.

On Saturday night, 6 October Ratcliffe had gone there and the landlord had served him a free glass of liquor. He seemed to be in a lively mood and it was reported that he stayed there for some time, having a couple of glasses of beer paid for by his friend Thomas Parkin. Around 9.30 the pair left for another public house called the Paradise Vaults where they both had more to drink. Eventually the pair left around 9.30 pm as Ratcliffe was known to not like to stay out late. As the Sheffield Independent stated once more ‘lest he should be set upon by some of the “rough’s” that infest that neighbourhood.’

Much later a neighbour, Mrs Darwent had heard a cry of ‘Oh, poor Poll’ at some time around midnight, but as she heard no more, forgot about it till the next day. Her husband Mr Frederick Darwent had been engaged to clean out the engine and boiler at Askhams Works, so he left the house around 6 am. Suddenly he saw his neighbour lying in the doorway face downwards in a pool of blood. Calling out to others they managed to bring the unconscious man inside and lay him out on the settle. Medical help was sought for him, but nevertheless he died shortly afterwards. Needless to say the death was reported at the police station and the Borough Coroner Mr. D Wightman was asked to arrange an inquest on the body.

Accordingly, it was held at the George and Dragon Inn, on Broad Lane, Sheffield on the afternoon of Wednesday 10 October 1883. However before the coroner arrived at the inquest, the jury was taken to view the body which lay on some boards, still at the house on Boden Lane. The members of the jury also noticed that there were large crowds of people collecting in the streets around the courtyard, all curious to see what had taken place. Police officers soon arrived to attempt to keep the crowd back and to stop them from trying to enter the house where the dead man had lived. As the inquest opened, it was noted that also present were Detective Inspector Thompson and Inspector Bird to watch the enquiry on behalf of the police.

Surgeon, Mr W Skinner of Brookhill was the first witness and he told the inquest that on the night in question he had received a parish order from the Workhouse Guardians requesting a visit. When he arrived at the house, he found Ratcliffe still alive, but in a dying condition. He stated that shortly after 8 am on Monday morning he visited again. He said that he found Ratcliffe still unconscious although, sadly he died around 9.30 am. The surgeon stated that he had also undertaken the post mortem on the man’s body. He made an external examination of the man’s body and described the severe bruise over his left eye.

Internally he found a fractured skull over the roof of the eye, under the bruised area. Mr Skinner reported that the skull was flooded with blood and his membranes very extended. He suggested that Ratcliffe’s fracture had been so severe, that he could not have moved after receiving that death blow. The coroner asked the surgeon if the fracture could have been caused by the man simply falling onto the ground, but Mr Skinner shook his head. The neighbour, Frederick Darwent stated that he had known the deceased man ever since he went to live at the house in Boden Lane about eighteen weeks previously.

The witness described finding him around 6 am the previous Sunday lying against his own, open front door. He described Ratcliffe as being fully dressed with his legs still inside the house, but his head and shoulders outside. Darwent was asked by Inspector Bird whether or not he had noticed any implements around the body, such as a poker, a brick or anything of that kind? However Darwent made it clear that there was nothing of that sort anywhere near the body. The witness said that he heard Ratcliffe earlier call out ‘poor Poll, oh poor Poll’ around half past midnight. The witness explained the fact that the deceased man had gone by the name of ‘Poll’ Ratcliffe.

At this point the coroner stated that the police were still continuing in their enquiries, so therefore he would adjourn the inquest for a week until Friday 19 October. On the afternoon of Friday12 October the funeral of William Ratcliffe took place at the Sheffield Township Burial Ground on Intake Road, Sheffield. In order not to encourage crowds of people at the house on Boden Road, the body had been removed the night before and taken to the home of his sister, Mrs Siddons on Milton Street. Thankfully there was only a small group of about forty women and children in attendance at the graveside. Indeed the funeral would have passed off without incident, apart from one strange occurrence.

During the graveside ceremony an unnamed young man, who it was reported had been a companion to the deceased, fell backwards into a fit. Thankfully someone nearby grabbed him quickly in order to prevent him from falling into the empty grave. When the inquest was resumed once again at the George and Dragon, another neighbour called George Richardson was the first witness. He described being called to help after the body had been found. He stated that he had not seen the deceased on the Saturday night, but had been called upon by Darwent around 6 am on Sunday morning. He confirmed that Ratcliffe was not dead then, as he had helped to carry him inside, although he could offer no explanation as to how he had come by his injuries.

In his summing up the coroner told the jury ‘that was all the evidence that could be produced and the only difficulty about the case was the evidence of the surgeon Mr Skinner.’ He had made it clear that the deceased man had not died from natural causes, but had been unable to state what had actually killed him. He said ‘if that were so, it was equally certain he did not inflict his injuries on himself. Therefore they must have been caused by another party.’ As the jury were considering this statement, one of the jury told the inquest about something which had happened earlier in the week, which threw a spanner into the work.

This unnamed juror said that a woman had approached him and asked him if he had been part of the jury in the inquest, and the man admitted that he was. She told him that she had spoken to William Ratcliffe on the Saturday night and he had told her that someone had threatened to kill him ‘between that night and the morning following’ and that he was in great fear. The juror stated that he had informed Sergeant Thompson about this conversation. The sergeant confirmed this and told Mr Wightman that he knew about the man’s statement, but had not been able to find anything else out about it all.

It seems that this unknown woman had met Ratcliffe by the Grapes Inn in Portobello around 11.15 pm as she was going home. The woman, knowing his aversion to being out late, asked him what he was doing out at that time of night. He replied that a man with the nickname of ‘Pork Pie’ had threatened him and he was anxious to get home. However the Mr Wightman dismissed this statement and told the jury that the police had enough time to make all their enquiries which had all come to nothing. Therefore the jury must arrive at a verdict or he would have to adjourn the inquest once again.

Sergeant McManus told the inquest that he had three officers who had devoted the whole of their time to the case, yet had come up with nothing. The matter of a reward was brought up for the name of the person who had killed William Ratcliffe, but once again the coroner stated that there was not sufficient evidence to show that the deceased had indeed been killed. If it had been proved to be a murder or an aggravated case of manslaughter, Mr Whiteman would be glad to have a reward issued, but he could not order a reward in a case of mere supposition. Finally the coroner once again requested the jury to decide on a verdict according to the evidence and the evidence alone.

The jury then retired before returning back around twenty minutes later. The verdict which they had decided on was that: ‘the deceased man, William Ratcliffe had died on the sixth instance from a fractured skull. But as to how the injury was inflicted, there is no evidence to show.’ Finally the coroner thanked the jury for their effort before terminating the inquest on William Ratcliffe – the bearded lady!

Local newspapers dated Monday 27 April 1925 reported the death of twenty three year old Nora Beeby of Oxford Street, East Dene, Rotherham. She had died in the hospital the day before from alleged poisoning given to her by twenty-eight year old Patrick Galvin, who was soon arrested and charged. The poison was to intended to be used as an abortion inducing drug. Although both parties were married to other people, for the past five weeks they had been living together in lodgings in Oxford Street. Galvin, who was originally from Denaby, was employed in Rotherham by a local firm of refrigerator manufacturers as a joiner.

On Wednesday 22 April 1925 Nora had been taken ill, but because of the dubious substance she had taken, it was not until Saturday that a surgeon was sent for. Dr Core attended her and he could see that her condition was fatal and immediately ordered her to be removed to the hospital. Her dying state was also reported to the police authorities and Detective Sergeant Emsley of the local police force was dispatched to the Rotherham hospital without delay. He arrived around 5.13 p.m. and found Galvin at Nora’s bedside. The man agreed to make a statement, and after being cautioned by the sergeant, he said:

‘I have been living with her for five weeks, but I have been keeping company with her for some time before that. She has been taking rat poison. I know she has been taking that, for I bought it for her a fortnight ago today. She has taken several lots, sometimes in tea and sometimes in water. The last time she took any was last Wednesday, and she had a miscarriage later that night. I was responsible for her condition. We came into town on Saturday and I bought the poison for her.

After Nora confirmed these events, Galvin was arrested and brought before the Rotherham magistrates on Monday 27 April 1925. The Chief Constable of Rotherham, Mr E Weatherhogg told the court that the prisoner was charged with ‘obtaining a poison knowing that it was to be used for an unlawful purpose’. The poison in question contained phosphorous which was a vermin killer. The prisoner admitted to the arresting officer that Nora had told him that she was ‘expecting their child’ a few weeks previously. Consequently Galvin had told her that to get ‘rid of it’ he would buy something for her to take.

The poison was manufactured under the name ‘Rodine’ and Nora had taken some on the Wednesday and had died on the Sunday. Mr Weatherhogg told the bench that as the police were continuing with their enquiries, he asked for a remand until the following Wednesday and this was granted. Accordingly the Coroner, Mr W J Bradford held an inquest on the remains of Nora Beeby on Tuesday 28 April 1925. Patrick Galvin was defended by Mr W J Clarke and he pleaded ‘not guilty’ to the charge. The first witness was Nora’s father, Thomas White, who gave his address as Norwood Street, Dalton Brook.

He told the inquest that in September 1923 his daughter had been married to a man called Edward Beeby. However, White said that the marriage had failed after only six months and the couple parted. He was asked by the coroner if he was aware that his daughter had been living with the prisoner for the last five weeks and Thomas admitted that he had. He told the inquest that he had last seen his daughter alive on Tuesday 21 April. At that point Mr Bradford announced that he would adjourn the inquest until the police had finished their enquiries. Accordingly the inquest reconvened on Wednesday 29 April, and the first witness was Dr James Hagan, a house surgeon at the hospital.

He gave evidence to the effect that Galvin had admitted to him that Nora had been taking rat poison before she died. The prisoner had also added that she had taken it in the form of a paste. The surgeon told the coroner that on Monday 27 April he had undertaken a post mortem on the body and found there were clear signs the woman’s death was due to having ingested an acute, irritative poison. Needless to say Patrick Galvin was found guilty of manslaughter and ordered to take his trial at the Yorkshire Assizes to be held at Leeds and bail was refused. The prisoner was brought before the judge on Monday 18 May 1925.

Although Galvin found himself in a most serious position, it seems that his honesty about supplying the rat poison had given him a slight advantage in the grand jury’s eyes. This was mitigated in Dr Hagan’s evidence, when he admitted that as far as he knew no analysis had been made of the rat poison. The judge, Mr Justice McCardie told the grand jury that the case could not proceed on the evidence offered so far. The poison should have been tested and the contents of the girls stomach should also have been compared with the poison to see if the analysis corresponded in any way. He therefore directed the jury to return a verdict of ‘not guilty’ to which the jury complied. Patrick Galvin, who had never denied what he had done, was therefore discharged.

This case was widely reported in the newspapers of the period and the couple were rightly condemned for their part in it. However throughout, there is no mention in the evidence of the desperate measures which Nora would have gone through in ingesting rat poison. By its very nature it was not meant to be taken internally by a human being. Consequently the agony which Nora would have suffered in imbibing an ‘ingested an acute, irritative poison’ (to use the words of Dr Hagan) must have been terrible both to go through and to witness.

In the summer of 1883 an elderly widow called Elizabeth Cross lived in Brightside Lane with her fourteen year old daughter Hannah. Elizabeth was an elderly widow who earned a living by keeping lodgers. Hannah had been a good girl and rarely caused her mother any trouble until she made the acquaintance of a good looking, nineteen year old miner called Thomas Hodgson. The pair had met when they were both lodging with Elizabeth on Brightside Lane. However when Hannah left to stay with her older, married sister, a woman called Annie Lucas at Carbrook, Thomas was quick to join her there in July 1883.

When Hannah returned back to live with her mother in September, Thomas quickly followed her again, and it was only at that point that her mother understood the close relationship which had developed between her daughter and the young miner. Elizabeth Cross had been very occupied with the Salvation Army and attended evening services, so the couple had taken advantage of her absences to go out in an evening with each other. When she did find out however, Elizabeth was very concerned as Hannah was still only fourteen, and a very naive fourteen year old at that. On Saturday 24 November the matter came to a head, when her daughter was getting ready to go out again with Thomas around 3.30 pm.

Elizabeth tried to reason with her, but when Thomas returned home from work, he told the elderly landlady that he intended to marry Hannah and if she tried to stop them, he would simply ‘take her away.’ With that the pair went out together, holding hands. When they returned around 6.30 pm and had some tea, yet another argument broke out. After the meal, Thomas simply told Hannah to bundle up some clothes for them both. When Elizabeth objected, she told him that he could go, but her daughter was only fourteen and was too young to leave home. In an effort to keep her daughter safe, as Thomas left the house, Elizabeth rushed to lock the door behind him.

However, Hannah was so determined, that she managed to escaped through the front room windows and the pair ran off. For several days Elizabeth searched for her daughter until Wednesday 28 November when she finally reported the girl missing at Attercliffe Police Station. She told Police Constable John Barlow that she suspected that the pair had gone back to lodge with her older daughter Annie Lucas. So that officer accompanied her to the house at Carbrook where, sure enough they found the pair. The officer, who was well aware of Hannah’s young age, sternly instructed her immediately to put on her hat and return home with her mother, or he would be taking her into custody.

Thankfully the girl immediately complied, nevertheless Thomas Hodgson was charged with ‘the abduction of Hannah Cross, a girl being then under the age of 16 years.’ Accordingly, he was brought before the Sheffield Magistrates Court at the Town Hall on Monday 3 December 1883. There he was described as being ‘a good looking youth, who gave his age as nineteen, but that he appeared to be several years younger.’ The prisoner gave his address as Amberley Street, Sheffield. After hearing Elizabeth’s account of the abduction, Thomas was asked if he had anything to say in his own defence.

He immediately told the bench that almost all of Elizabeth’s statement was completely untrue. He claimed that instead that she had turned her daughter Hannah out of the house and told her to ‘go.’ Thomas stated that he had never encouraged Hannah to leave her mother, but the pair just wanted to ‘walk out’ together without interference. The girl Hannah herself was the next witness and she was merely described as being ‘a pretty little girl.’ She confirmed that on the night in question her mother had turned her out and told her to ‘go back no more.’ Another younger daughter, called Elizabeth after her mother, was the next witness.

She stated that she was eleven years of age but denied that her mother had told Hannah to leave. Once again Elizabeth was recalled and confirmed that Hannah had gone away without her permission and against her will. However two neighbours on Brightside Lane were then called to give their evidence which turned out to be damning. They both stated that Elizabeth was in the habit of ‘knocking Hannah about and pulling at her hair.’ After hearing all the evidence, the bench committed Thomas Hodgson for trial at the next Assizes, although they were prepared to allow him bail.

However he told them that he had no friends in Sheffield, who would pay his sureties, so he was removed still in custody. Consequently Thomas Hodgson was brought before judge Mr Justice Day at the Yorkshire Assizes at Leeds on Saturday 9 February 1884. Mr Ryalls, who prosecuted the case, told the court that ‘being under 14 years of age Hannah’s own consent was not material to the case’. He then outlined the details before Elizabeth gave her own account of her daughters abduction.

In order to malign her own married daughter, Annie Lucas in the eyes of the court, Elizabeth told the judge that Lucas kept a house ‘frequented by unmarried couples.’ Hannah, herself claimed that she had left home simply due to her mothers ill treatment of her and the same witnesses confirmed this account. Thankfully after hearing all the witness’s evidence, the grand jury found Thomas Hodgson not guilty and he was dismissed. There is little doubt that the young couple left the court in triumph!

On the morning of Thursday 5 November 1908 a man called Ridgeway was walking along the side of the canal at Tinsley. He was passing a keel boat when a cabin window in the side opened and an elderly man, looking extremely ill shouted to him. He begged Ridgeway to fetch a doctor to his six year old grandchild who was ill. The boy was onboard and suspected of suffering from food poisoning. Ridgeway immediately raced back to Tinsley to a house on Wharf Road where he knew a nurse lived called called Sarah James. She hurriedly put on her coat and hat, at the same time instructing Ridgeway to go to the house of Dr Selby and ask him also to attend.

Once onboard, Sarah found an elderly couple William and Frances Hamshaw stricken with ptomaine poisoning (an old fashioned way of saying food poisoning). Also on board was their six year old grandson Jack Hodson who was also stricken. All of them were in a terrible condition. Despite Dr Selby’s assiduous attentions the little boy Jack died. William Hamshaw told Sarah that they had been travelling from Goole to Sheffield on the previous day, when Jack fell ill. Before he could get any medical attention, all three of them were taken desperately ill for the rest of the night. Thankfully, the next morning he had managed to call the attention of a passing stranger, urging him to find them a doctor.

Sadly, William himself died the following day, but by this time his wife, Frances had thankfully recovered sufficiently enough to go home. Accordingly, an inquest on the body of Jack Hodson was due to be held on Friday 6 November 1908 at the Plumpers Hotel, Tinsley. However before it began, the Coroner, Mr J Kenyon Parker was informed of the second death of the child’s grandfather. He was told that he too had been suffering from a serious case of food poisoning, although from where it had originated was a mystery. Mr Parker told the jury that the case of William Hamshaw would be dealt with first.

The deceased man’s stepson, John Hodgkinson was the first witness and he told the inquest that William was aged 63 years and he had always been a very healthy and active man. He stated that his stepfather had been the master of the keel boat for many years and was well known to people living on the canal. Hodgkinson told the inquest that he had last seen William on Monday at Goole and he had been in the best of health on that day. However he had been told that he had been taken ill on the Wednesday night and shortly afterwards his wife and grandson had begun to display the same symptoms.

Dr Selby was the next to give evidence and he stated that he had been called into the case, and in consultation with the Medical Officer of Health, Dr Weatherbe, they had both concluded that William had died from food poisoning. He said that on Tuesday the family had a meal of roast pork and the following night, cold ham and suet pudding. The pork had then been given to a relative, who had suffered no ill effects after consuming a considerable quantity. He said that the meat had been salted, therefore he did not think it could easily become contaminated on board the keel.

The mother of the deceased boy, Maria Hutchinson told the jury that she had identified the body of her son who was born to her first husband. In his summing up, Mr Parker told the jury that both doctors Dr Weatherbe and Dr Selby did not think it necessary to undertake post mortems on the bodies of the grandfather or his grandson. The symptoms from which they both died showed undoubted that they had died from food poisoning. Accordingly the jury had no option but to return a verdict that both deaths were due to gastro-enteritis.

The rapping case was first reported in the Sheffield Independent dated Thursday 8 December 1881 at a house on Sheffield Moor. The house was in Johnson’s Yard which was situated on Pearl Street and entered by a narrow passageway. On each side of the passageway were two single houses. It was reported that

‘the occupants of these houses had for the past week, had to endure nightly disturbances of incessant knockings. The origins of these disturbances however could not be traced and, not unnaturally, left the people concerned extremely nervous.’

As fame about this phenomena spread, more and more local people came to witness the knockings for themselves. At first it was thought that the sound originated from leaking water pipes, as the sounds originated in the lower rooms. Shortly after the noise became such a nightly nuisance, that plumbers were employed to take up the pavement outside to check the water pipes. However they could find no evidence of leaking, nor any disturbance in the pipework’s at all. The cellars of the two houses were also checked in an effort to discover the origin of these noises, but it was quickly established that no person, apart from the occupants had access to the cellars without being discovered.

As the fame of this ‘nighttime rapper’ spread, it was usual that around ten o’clock there gathered quite a crowd in Pearl Street. Inevitably, amongst them there ‘gangs of youths who prowled here and there, defying the spirit and daring the mysterious phantom to reveal itself.’ Needless to say this resulted in much hooting of the crowd, enough to keep most of the occupants of the two houses wide awake. The occupant of one of the houses was a man called Joseph Hodgkinson, whose daughter at the time was seriously ill. Her father claimed nightly that she was disturbed by the thoughtless hubbub which was happening outside their house.

The local police authorities too were becoming more disturbed at the crowds which collected on a nightly basis, all hoping to hear this phenomena. By Thursday 8 December, it was estimated that almost a thousand people had collected in Johnson’s Yard. Many took the rapping’s as a bit of a lark to be laughed at, whilst others viewed the issue more seriously. They would wait for the disturbance to begin, their faces pinched and full of concern. Suggestions were put forward that the nightly disruptions were the prediction of an earthquake. Whilst other more imaginative theories were that the rapping’s were the work of a previous tenant of one of the houses.

It was said that this unnamed soul was a man, weary of this world who decided to end his existence. As a result he had cut his own throat and it was his spirit that was haunting the place where his ancient spirit roamed. Police officers were now put on duty to watch the large crowds and on that particular night there were four of them in attendance. It was noted that some of the officers were forced to use their truncheons in order to maintain control, as some of the mob became more and more unruly. One woman fainted and many others were clearly terrified.

As news of the ‘ghost’ spread, the sound it made was likened to that of ‘a blow struck with a mallet upon some hard substance.’ This continued for a few moments and then stopped before it was then resumed at the hour of 10 o’ clock where the continued once more for some ten or fifteen minutes. On the following, Friday night the police officers would not allow the crowd to approach the passageway into Johnson’s Yard and they quickly dispersed those who collected there on Pearl Street waiting for the ‘show’ to start. These officers were kept so busy moving the crowd on until midnight, that they hardly noticed when a cold fog descended. Only then did the crowds finally disperse to their own homes.

Needless to say all the excitement generated had an affect on the onlookers, which came to a head on Saturday 10 December when a forty-five year old midwife, a woman called Mrs Coldwell mingled in with the crowd. Suddenly, and without warning, she dropped to the ground in an apoplectic fit. Mrs Coldwell was removed to another house in Pearl Street, but sadly died the following day. It was thought that anticipation and excitement had brought on the fit. Thankfully, by Friday 16 December the Pearl Street rapping phenomena had finally ceased altogether, to the crowds great disappointment.

Thankfully for the police authorities, gradually fewer and fewer people gathered on Pearl Street after it became clear that there was nothing more to hear. Yet even well afterwards, many still sought answers as to what had started the phenomena in the first place. Failing to find any other solution, it was gradually stated that the mysterious rapping must have originated with the ‘afflicted’ daughter of Joseph Hodgkinson. It seems that once she was moved from her bedroom and placed on the sofa in one of the lower rooms, the rapping’s finally ceased altogether and Johnson’s Yard and Pearl Street resumed their former nighttime silence.

On Friday 29 November 1907 around 10 pm, twenty one year old Bill Durose and his step-sister Susannah Davies were on their way to visit their parents at Cross Street, Whinney Hill, Thrybergh. Bill had been drinking heavily and therefore Susannah wanted to make sure that her step-brother reached home safely. Reaching the house, the pair let themselves in, going through the front door, along the passage into the kitchen. It was a short distance, nevertheless Susannah was forced to help Bill, who was so drunk that he could scarcely walk along unaided. Once inside they found Bill’s father, Charles Durose and Susannah’s mother sat in front of the fire.

The elder Durose was a fifty six year old collier who was employed along with his son at Silverwood Colliery. He was described as being a powerfully built man and Susannah’s mother lived with him at the house, although she and Charles were not married. Between them they had five children. There was Charles junior, William or Bill as he was called, as well as two daughters, Lizzie aged 15 and Lydia, aged 13 years. Finally there was another unnamed son who was aged just nine years. On that particular day, it seems that Charles and Susannah had been into Rotherham to spend £3 compensation money that he had received. This was following an accident at work which had kept him at home, unable to work for three weeks.

However once some clothes were bought, the couple who were both heavy drinkers, spent the rest of the day in the several pubs of the town, returning home just before 10 pm. Entering the house, Susannah noted immediately that neither Charles or her mother looked particularly sober. Once inside the kitchen, Bill sat down on the hearth as it was a cold night and his father sat in an armchair close by. Almost immediately his father started to kick out at Bill telling him to move, as he was blocking the warmth from the fire. However when Bill laid down on the hearthrug and closed his eyes, Charles became even more annoyed.

When Bill still refused to move, his father kicked him again until his son finally stood up and rubbed his hands complaining at the same time that he too was cold. Then matters took a turn for the worst. At that point Charles stood up to get another beer from the sideboard, but somehow instead he fell back into the armchair. This went over backwards leaving him and the chair sprawled on its back on the kitchen floor. Bill immediately started to laugh, but by now furious, the elderly man jumped to his feet and lashed out at his son with his fists. In his own mind he was convinced that Bill had tipped the chair backwards somehow.

The blow landed on Bill’s cheek and his son quickly moved to retaliate. An argument quickly ensued as father and son struggled together. Susannah, trying to prevent the fight getting out of hand, stood between Charles and her brother and for her pains received a blow on her right temple. One of the younger girls, Lizzie then got upset and she ran out of the house screaming, as Charles continued to curse and swear at his son. She was quickly joined by her sister Lydia, who were both afraid that the row had got so quickly out of hand that they both began to cry. When a neighbour came out to find out what was the matter, Lizzie told him ‘our Bill has kicked my father under his jaw.’

Susannah came out to comfort her younger step siblings and the three girls, stood outside in the cold for about five minutes, as the sounds of the argument continued inside the house. When they finally went back inside, it was to find Charles unconscious on the floor and Bill standing over him, breathing heavily. As a result, the two young girls were dispatched to fetch Police Sergeant Rowe and Police Constable Stones who were on duty not far away. After hearing the girl’s tale, the two officers immediately went to the house where they saw Charles lying on the floor. Sergeant Roe went over to the body and found the man was dead.

A doctor was immediately called and Dr John Ewing Adams attended the house around 11.35 pm. However by the time he arrived all he could do was to confirm that Charles Durose was indeed dead. The two officers noted that throughout their visit and that of Dr Adams, that Susannah’s mother stayed sitting at the kitchen table almost stupefied with drink. The sergeant could not help but notice that the poor woman had a black eye from an argument which had taken place a few days previously. The surgeon examined the deceased man and noted a slight wound over his left eye and a more serious bruise behind the man’s ears.

Needless to say Bill Durose was taken into custody charged with causing the death of his father, and the next day, Saturday 30 November he was brought before the West Riding Court at Rotherham. Superintendent McDonald of the Rotherham police gave the court a description of finding the deceased man lying on his back in the kitchen, as well as describing the state of the room with the broken chair and a damaged fender. The superintendent then asked for a remand for the prisoner until after the inquest and a post mortem had be held, which was granted. Consequently, the Sheffield Deputy Coroner, Mr Kenyon Parker arranged for an inquest to be held at the Grapes Hotel at Dalton on Tuesday 3 December.

Mr Parker opened the inquest and informed the jury that it was their duty to identify any person or persons who were responsible for the death of the deceased man, Charles Durose. When Susannah stood to give her evidence, the mark of the blow she had received in trying to separate the two men was still visible on her temple. The witness told the jury that her mother and Charles Durose had been living together for twenty-seven years as man and wife. She described the events of the evening in question and was asked by a juror if the father and son had argued before. Susannah told him that there had been frequent quarrels over the previous year, which were usually exacerbated when both the men had been drinking.

She was followed by the surgeon who attended to the deceased, Dr Adams. He stated how the man was clearly dead by the time he arrived at the house. He informed the inquest that he had undertaken the post mortem and described the wounds he had found. Dr Adams said that internally Charles Durose’s organs were quite healthy and there was no fracture of the skull. However, he concluded that the most serious injury was the large swelling below and behind the deceased man’s left ear. He concluded that death was a result of shock from the injury, which had caused bleeding at the bottom of the brain.

The next witness was Police Sergeant Rowe of Wickersley who related how, when he found the elderly man was dead, the prisoner immediately said ‘If he is dead then I have not killed him, he fell off the chair. There has been a right row here tonight.’ The coroner then summed up for the jury and stated that it was very clear that all the parties involved had been drunk at the time. The jury retired in private for just ten minutes before returning a verdict of manslaughter against Bill Durose. On hearing this, the prisoner burst into tears and had to be helped out of the room, before being removed to the cells at Rotherham.

When he was next appeared before the magistrates again on Wednesday 11 December, thankfully he was now defended by solicitor, Mr W J Bradford. His defence stated that when the prisoner was in the fight with his father, he denied having his boots on his feet at the time. Therefore the statement by Lizzie that he had kicked his father under the jaw could not be true. Instead he suggested that the injury behind the deceased man’s ear must have been caused by his fall. Dr Adams pointed out that there had been a stone sink in the corner of the room and said that might well have caused such an injury.

Despite his defence able attempts, Bill Durose was found guilty of manslaughter and ordered to take his trial at the next West Riding Assizes. These were to be held at Leeds Town Hall on Wednesday 25 March 1908. The prisoner was charged with the manslaughter of his father and he was defended by Mr Bramley. The prosecution Mr Leader addressed the jury and told them it would be for them to decide whether the prisoner had just been defending himself, or whether he was angry and had attacked his father in his turn. He pointed out that if he struck a blow in self-defence then the jury must find him not guilty.

Mr Bramley reminded the jury that the prisoner had taken his boots off before lying down on the hearthrug to sleep. Police Sergeant Rowe confirmed the fact that when he had gone to the house and found the deceased man, that the prisoner had no boots on. They were found by the sink, close to where the prisoner was standing. When asked what he had to say in his own defence, Bill simply stated that even he could not say how his father had got the wound behind his ear. He said that they had been rolling about on the floor and struggling together for a quarter of an hour or so and that at one point his father had got hold of him by the throat.

In retaliation he agreed that he had given him a shove, and that was when his fathers chair went over and Charles lay there and did not get up again. Mr Justice Sutton summed up for the jury and said that if the prisoner had indeed just been defending himself that would not be manslaughter and it would be a verdict of accidental death. He said that the evidence had shown that the deceased was a quarrelsome, violent man and that he was strong, powerful and muscular in build.

His Lordship said that to find the prisoner guilty the jury would have to prove that he had caused his fathers death by some direct act, not in self defence. Nevertheless they would have to say what had caused his death. No instrument had been found or anything to account for the swelling at the back of the deceased man’s ear mentioned by the medical evidence. The grand jury retired to consider their verdict at 3.15 pm and after just thirty minutes absence, they returned with a verdict of not guilty. Bill Durose was therefore discharged, to his own and his families great relief.

In Sheffield in November of 1872 there lived a widow called Ann Smith who made a living from running a lodging house in Harvest Lane. Generally speaking, she had few problems with her lodgers, as she was well able to keep them under control. However, over the last few months one particular man had been causing her particular headaches. Fifty five year old labourer Peter Williams thought nothing of getting drunk every Saturday night and using bad language in front of his landlady. However when he started to do it in front of her children, that was a completely different matter.

On Saturday night 22 November the lodger came in roaring drunk and when one of Ann’s sons remonstrated with him, Williams lashed out at the child. The boy had simply told the drunken man that ‘he ought not to conduct himself in such a manner.’ As Williams lifted his fist, Ann stepped between the pair and as a result received a violent blow in the mouth for her trouble. Only when she took down a heavy pot basin and threatened Williams with it, did he finally sit down and become quiet again. Ann had just began to relax, when glancing out the window she spotted another lodger called John Maugham standing in the yard.

There had already been some sort of feud between Williams and the sixty one year old carter, Maugham, so she went outside and begged the man to go away. He played little heed and the poor woman went back into the kitchen, and taking down the key she firmly locked the door. However Maugham had already seen that the landlady’s face was bleeding, and seeing Williams inside, he knew who the person was who had initiated such an injury. Maugham kicked at the locked door and demanded that Williams come out and fight ‘like a man’. Hearing this the lodger forced the key out of Ann Smiths hands before unlocking the door and going outside.

However, once outside and being confronted by the larger man, Williams took to his heels and ran down Harvest Lane. Maugham was having none of this and he ran after and caught hold of him before the two men immediately began to struggle fiercely together. Thankfully, two other lodgers saw what was happening and quickly separated the pair. Nevertheless during the short struggle, the two men and their landlady quite clearly heard Maugham say that Williams had bitten him. As they dragged the two men apart, it was clear that Maugham’s thumb was bleeding. Thankfully, that seemed to be the end of the argument, and matters soon settled down at the lodging house.

Nevertheless, the condition of Maugham’s bitten thumb did not improve and steadily got worse. Only after Ann had nagged at him for a full three weeks, did he finally take her advice and go to seek medical advice. He went to see Dr Kemp at the workhouse hospital on 12 December. The surgeon saw that the man’s whole arm from his hand to his elbow was now swollen and inflamed. Dr Kemp diagnosed ‘erysipelas’ and did what he could to save his patient, but almost from the beginning he knew the wound was a fatal one. Sadly Williams condition was so frail by this time that four days later, on 16 December 1872 John Maugham died from his injury at the Workhouse hospital.

As a result, an inquest on the body of the deceased man was opened at the Alma Hotel by the Coroner, Mr J Webster two days later. However only evidence of identification was taken, before the inquest was adjourned until Wednesday 22 January 1873. On that day Ann Smith found herself the first witness at the resumed inquest, as she described the fight between the two men. The landlady told the inquest that both men were quiet, inoffensive kind of persons until they had been drinking, when they would both become quarrelsome.

Surgeon, Dr Kemp described his treatment of erysipelas for the deceased man at the workhouse hospital and admitted that he knew from the start that the case was a hopeless one. He told the coroner that by the time he saw that man’s injured thumb, he was in such a poor physical condition that he could not even contemplate having the infected arm amputated. Other witnesses gave evidence of the two men struggling together in the street. After hearing all the evidence, Mr Webster told the jury that the only question they would have to decide was whether Peter Williams was guilty of manslaughter or not.

The coroner gave his opinion that he did not think that the prisoner was guilty of manslaughter as it was clear from the evidence of witnesses that he was not the aggressor in the case. He pointed out that it was John Maugham who had followed Williams after he had run away and forced him to into the fight. However, some members of the jury disagreed, and felt that they were of the opinion that Williams had not needed to fight, if he had not wished to do so. Hence they returned a verdict that Peter Williams was guilty of manslaughter. As a result on Friday 25 January, the prisoner was brought before the magistrates at Sheffield Town Hall.

The details of the case was gone into once more, before Williams was asked if he had anything to say in his own defence. He simply shook his head, before the bench found him guilty and remanded him on bail for a week, in his own recognizances of £40 and two other sureties of £20 each. Finally, Peter Williams was brought before the Leeds Assizes on Thursday 27 March 1873 to take his trial. He was charged with the manslaughter of John Maugham before being placed in a cell.

However, before the trial could begin the judge, Mr Justice Denman opened the assizes and gave his address to the Grand Jury. He made a particular mention of the case of Peter Williams, as he told them that the case would require more than the jury’s ‘ordinary attention’. He told them that they had to decide whether Maugham’s death was from the erysipelas or the bite from the prisoner. Thankfully the following day the Grand Jury threw out the case against Peter Williams and he was discharged. There is little doubt that he returned back to Sheffield a wiser and more careful kind of man.

John French was a thirty year old labourer who had been a collier by trade in Cardiff, Wales before coming to Sheffield at the beginning of February 1907. In fact he was destitute in the city when he was approached by a kind and merciful man called Owen Fitzsimmons. He took pity on the poor young man and took him back to his house in Bailey Street. There he not only gave him lodgings for the night, but also a change of clean clothes as well. Fitzsimmons and his wife, Elizabeth made a living by running a grocers shop on Bailey Street as well as taking in lodgers. At the time they also had living with them two elderly ladies. They were Fitzsimmons mother, Sarah Ann and another elderly widow called Rose Ann Horan.

In order to help them they also employed a twenty- year old servant, a girl called Alice Cole, towards whom French immediately displayed some affections. Thanks to Owen Fitzsimmon’s charity, it was not long before the new lodger found employment at Birley Colliery. An agreement was soon reached that French would continue to lodge with the family and that he would pay them 12s a week. His circumstances now having improved, it was not long before the lodger asked Alice to go out with him, but she appeared more frightened of him than affectionate, and refused. However French pressed the girl until finally she gave in.

On that occasion, although Alice had agreed, she asked Owen to follow them. His lodger had told Fitzsimmons that he was taking the girl into Rotherham, but as they left the house, Owen saw they were heading towards Endcliffe Woods. Thankfully around 11.30pm that they both returned safely back to Bailey Street. At some time around the beginning of March, French managed, possibly using threats to get Alice to come out with him again and this time his purpose was more sinister. He took her to the Westbar Registry Office and once there and without consulting her beforehand, he made arrangements for a wedding to take place a fortnight later.

Throughout this sinister romance, he had tried to prevent Alice from saying anything to her employer about their relationship, so she said nothing to the family until Saturday 9 March. However when the wedding arrangements came to light, a confrontation happened which resulted in French seeking lodgings across the road with a woman called Mrs Clark. He slept there on the Sunday night and as he went over in his head the events of the previous few days, he plotted his revenge. What he did not know however was that his determination to retaliate himself on the whole Fitzsimmons family, including Alice Cole had already been foreseen.

Owen’s mother, Sarah Ann Mrs Fitzsimmons, had a remarkable dream on the Saturday night, which foretold the tragedy. On Sunday morning, 10 March she told her son that she had a dream where she saw shots being fired, and described the kitchen as being ‘full of smoke.’ She told other people about the dream and said that she had also seen blood streaming all over the floor. So vivid was the dream that she warned Alice not to go out with French that night. What she didn’t know was that on Monday 11 March, French had bought a revolver. He was spotted at some time before noon going into the Fitzsimmon’s back kitchen, situated in a yard at the back of the house.

Entering he found Owen Fitzsimmons and his wife, who was nursing her young baby. Mrs Horan and Alice were also in the kitchen, although Owens elderly mother was reportedly still upstairs in bed, the dream of the previous Saturday night having disturbed her considerably. French was described as ‘looked excited’ as he confronted Alice and asked her point blank if she was going to marry him at the Register Office as arranged. Taking courage from the other people present, the girl told him that she wouldn’t marry him and French flew into a rage as he pulled out the gun. Standing at the doorway, the lodger fired several shots, although thankfully most of them missed the target due to his agitation.

He fired at, and thankfully missed, Owen Fitzsimmons and then at Elizabeth his wife, who still had the baby on her knee. The bullet struck her on the nose before she ran out screaming, and then he turned his attention to the young domestic servant. French fired three more times at her as she lay on the floor pleading for mercy. How she survived was a miracle, but after knowing that he now only had one bullet left, French thankfully turned it on himself. Placing the muzzle against his right temple, he pulled the trigger and immediately fell down dead. The shots were clearly heard in Bailey Street and so it was a matter of just fifteen minutes before the police arrived.

Deputy Chief Constable of Sheffield, Mr G H Barker and Inspector Henley with several constables took charge. In French’s pocket was found a gun license which had been taken out that same morning at 9.30 am. John French’s body was removed and an inquest was arranged on his body on Wednesday 13 March at the Mortuary where the identification was made by Owen Fitzsimmons himself. He was the first witness and he admitted to the Coroner Mr D Wightman, that he had made a big mistake with French, and in particular with having brought him into his family. He had thought that he was a good man, but he had been mistaken.

The witness also said that the deceased man was given to ‘romancing’ about incidents which had happened in his life, so that it was impossible to trust anything he said. He also admitted that his former lodger had always wanted to carry on his affair with Alice Cole in a secret way, and had made arrangements to marry her without telling anyone else. He was angry with her when she refused to keep himself and his wife in ignorance of their affair. Fitzsimmons then described the shooting and how, after his wife had been shot, that he picked up his child and ran outside. Thankfully the witness told the coroner that French was so drunk that it caused him to shoot wildly or they would all be dead.

Alice Cole gave evidence that the deceased had proposed that they should live together in Rotherham soon after she went out with him for the first time, but she refused. As a result, French had threatened her several times, during their short acquaintanceship. She readily told the inquest that she had always been frightened of him. When she told the deceased man that she wanted no more to do with him, he threatened her again. He told her ‘I will pawn this ring and buy something in its place that will finish you.’ Mr Wightman told the jury that French appeared to have acted like a fool throughout, and it was a wonder that he had not killed more people.

The coroner advised the jury that the only question they had to decide at the point was what was his state of mind at the time. The jury consulted together for a short while, before returning their verdict of ‘suicide during temporary insanity.’ It was hoped that was the end of the terrible affair, but a month later there was a completely surprised revelation. French had told everyone that he was a single man, however a letter was sent from Maryport, Cumberland from his abandoned wife. In the letter sent to Sheffield Mrs French described her husbands tattoo on his arms of ‘JLF’. These were his initials (John Lawson French) as well as she described other identifying details.

Concluding the letter, Mrs French stated that ‘true to form’ her husband had left her with a six week old child taking all his wages and leaving her penniless. Thankfully Alice Cole survived her ordeal as did her employer Mrs Elizabeth Fitzsimmons. It was reported thankfully that the disfigurement of having part of her nose shot off ‘was much more serious than her pain.