Two stories of Sheffield hanged

And could a Darnall man have beheaded Charles I?

For a large city it may be surprising that Sheffield (other than the holding cells under police stations and the old Town Hall) has never really had a criminal prison - only several debtors prisons in the 18th and 19th centuries; including those near Moorfoot, on King Street, and Scotland Street in Shalesmoor. Serious crimes committed in Sheffield still see those convicted taken elsewhere, including to Doncaster, Leeds, or Wakefield. In the past this meant something else as well - death sentences were carried out in prisons, and before 1868 in public. Judicial executions have not been carried out in Sheffield, at least not in recorded history, however we have some connections with infamous executions and executioners. On two notorious occasions the bodies of criminals from the old town were hanged in public as a warning to others - but after their executions, and in a gibbet.

The 1751 Murder Act banned the burial of murderers, with their remains instead ‘to be publicly dissected or left hanging in chains’. Later the practice of ‘gibbeting’, keeping the body in cage, developed as a means to keep the grisly spectacle lasting as long as possible. The first of the Sheffield cases was that of Frank Fearn, who in March 1782 lured a High Street watchmaker, Nathan Andrews, to a supposed business meeting in a Bradfield pub and murdered him as they walked together along Kirk Edge Road, stealing the collection of watches Andrews was carrying. He was hanged at York in July 1782, with his body ordered to be prominently displayed on Loxley Common, close to the scene of the crime, which attracted a large crowd to witness the hoisting of his corpse. His bones are said to have finally fallen from the gibbet on Christmas Day 1797, although the rattling cage remained on the common for some time afterwards.

The best known case of the kind in Sheffield is that of Spence Broughton, a Lincolnshire man who in early 1791 together with an accomplice, John Oxley, robbed the mail coach making its way to Rotherham from Sheffield across Attercliffe Common. Broughton and Oxley then headed south, committing more robberies along the way, before being captured in London in October the same year. Oxley escaped from captivity, but Broughton was tried in York in March 1792 and executed three weeks later. He too was sentenced to be displayed near the scene of the crime. On April 16th 1792 Broughton’s body was gibbeted in Attercliffe (close to present day Clifton Street), where it was reported that an estimated 40,000 people came to view the display on the first day alone. Spence Broughton was to hang there for an incredible 36 years (long enough for the gibbet to appear on plans of the area), not being removed until 1827 by the new landowner who was fed up with unwanted sightseers. The last cases of gibbeting in the UK were recorded in 1832, and the practice abolished by Parliament in 1834.

A depiction of Broughton’s body (right) hanging on Attercliffe Common

On the other side of the coin Sheffield has a couple of reputed links with executioners of old. The Pierrepoint family of hangmen were from Bradford, and it appears that it may be that a branch of their relatives were here in the city. Certainly for many years in the first half of the 20th century there was a Pierrepont firm of grocers and fishmongers in Attercliffe and Darnall, and not withstanding the slight difference in the spelling it does seem that they were distantly related (probably unsurprisingly with such an uncommon name). Researchers have found the two names appearing interchangeably, especially in the 19th century, with the Pierrepoints gaining an ‘i’ along the way - either way it would certainly have been a name that attracted notoriety and attention at the time. The frontage of their former shop on Attercliffe Road still stands some 60 years after closing down.

Former W. Pierrepont grocers shop, Attercliffe Road

Sheffield’s history is full of tantalising possibilities and intriguing characters, and someone who was albeit briefly a resident of Darnall, William Walker, is thought by some to be the man who beheaded King Charles I in 1649. An extraordinary claim - could it possibly be true? Walker, who died in November 1700, and said to be have been born in 1621, arrived in Darnall late in his life. He attracted attention by having an interest in astronomy and books, and rumours soon circulated. At the regicide trials after the restoration of the monarchy in 1660 an unknown man named Walker was accused of being the axeman, and it appears that a connection was made with the quiet old man living in Darnall. In 1768 the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ carried an account from older local residents further claiming that Walker had confessed; that on his deathbed he was unable to make his peace until ‘he had openly confessed that King Charles was beheaded by his hand’. There isn’t much more to back up the claim than that, but it could be true - unlikely maybe, but possible.

The execution of King Charles I, January 1649

Returning to one of our Sheffield hanged there is a long-held assumption in the city that Broughton Lane, very close to the site of Spence Broughton’s gibbet, is named after the man himself. However there are conflicting theories, not helped by the lack of records regarding the naming of Sheffield’s streets. Until the mid-19th century the road was called Greenland Engine Lane (a nearby section of the canal was called the Greenland Arm) and other streets in the area were named after the Duke of Norfolk’s family, in which there was a Broughton. It is said that the Duke would have been unlikely to have named the road after Spence Broughton, however he would have known the story only too well - it was only a generation earlier that the gibbet was removed. Even if the Broughton concerned was a family member, the Duke knew how it would appear to many. I wonder what the thinking was? These days the road has a ‘Noose and Gibbet Inn’ pub with a mock-up of Spence Broughton’s gibbet and body outside, so it’s hardly surprising that people still think the road named after an executed highway robber.

The Noose and Gibbet Inn, Broughton Lane

It often strikes me how historically recent shocking past practices can be. Only a decade after Broughton’s bones were still being exhibited in public the General Cemetery and Botanical Gardens were opened, the first Redmires reservoir was built, and Sheffield’s first railway station opened at Wicker - less than two centuries ago isn’t a very long time in historical terms. There was also an overlap of Fearn and Broughton’s bodies hanging in chains; from 1792 and 1797 both gibbets were in use at the same time, one on each side of the old town. It also worth considering the difference between the two in that Broughton hadn’t killed anyone, or even badly hurt anyone in the pursuit of his crime. He tied up a young mail lad, who escaped unharmed to report the crime - robbing the mail was treated in the same manner as vicious murder in the late 18th century.

There may be a further macabre link between the cases; Broughton’s accomplice John Oxley was said to have fled the country after his escape, but it appears he may have returned to the Sheffield area. Local newspapers reported in January 1793 that he had been found dead on Loxley Common, possibly by his own hand. It is interesting that one of the gibbet sites is now built-up, whereas Loxley Common has remained pretty similar to how it would have looked at the time. There are ghost stories surrounding the common, unsurprising for such an atmospheric spot, and I find myself thinking about Oxley. If indeed he did conceal himself away there, he would have been fully aware of Broughton’s fate. Desperate and alone, perhaps the end was near when he came across Frank Fearn’s long-dead skeleton hanging in his gibbet - an encounter that would surely have shaken the most hardened criminal.