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.