There was some support for the petition, and among those who signed it were several of the town’s magistrates, members of the Town Council, a number of local ministers, and one of the jury members who had found Wakefield guilty. However, the Home Secretary was unmoved and the petition failed. The execution was scheduled for Monday, 16 August.
Following his conviction, Wakefield was visited on just two occasions by his mother and brother, who did so for the last time on the Saturday afternoon before his execution. They had great difficulty in coming to terms with what he had done, but he refused to answer their questions about the crime. The executioner, William Marwood, also arrived at the gaol that afternoon.
On the eve of his execution, Wakefield went to bed early and seemed to be sleeping well, but at one o’clock in the morning he awoke suffering from a terrible toothache, which lasted throughout the night. He dressed at 5 a.m., and ate a light breakfast two hours later. Just before 8 a.m., the prison officials arrived to accompany him to the scaffold. He retained his composure throughout, and the execution was carried out without incident. Within minutes of the black flag being raised, the crowd outside the gaol, which was estimated to number 2,000, dispersed. While Wakefield was being buried, Marwood left the gaol, unnoticed, by a side door.
Since his arrest Wakefield had given no indication as to a motive for the crime, saying nothing to the police, his family or his lawyers. However, a few days before he was hanged he told Revd Moore that he had grown tired of life but did not have the courage to commit suicide. He had therefore decided to commit a crime so heinous that his own death, at the hands of the hangman, would inevitably follow.
The Wakefield case was the cause of a dispute between two local newspapers, which was as fierce as any involving today’s tabloids. Since public executions had been abolished in 1868, the governors of those prisons at which hangings took place had the authority to decide on the number of journalists who could attend them. By 1880, the Home Office was discouraging the presence of the press at executions, as their reports focused on the distressing scenes on the scaffold and other unfortunate mishaps that sometimes occurred on such occasions.
The governor of Derby Gaol had decided to invite just one reporter to Wakefield’s hanging, from the Derby Daily Telegraph, who, it was proposed, could provide an account for other newspapers to use. However, this infuriated rival publication the Derby Mercury, which accused the editor of its fierce rival of having resorted to sharp practice in order to obtain the invitation, and it complained bitterly to the governor. This appears to have had the desired effect as journalists from all of the local newspapers were invited to executions until the practice finally stopped several years later.
8
THE DROWNING OF A LOVED ONE
Bonsall, 1880
In May 1877 Mary Wright, a single young woman, gave birth to an illegitimate daughter, Adeline. The baby’s father had deserted Mary when first told of the pregnancy. However, her family remained supportive and she did not therefore have to consider the dangerous option of an illegal abortion, the tragedy of infanticide, or entry into the workhouse, which were the choices facing many women in her situation in Victorian England. Her father, James, was a wealthy farmer who owned twenty acres of good farmland on Bonsall Moor, where he lived with his wife and two other daughters, Alice and Elizabeth.
All went well for the next three years, as not only did her family provide Mary and Adeline with a loving home, but their neighbours did not ostracise Mary and they also became very fond of Adeline. However, Mary’s seducer returned to the area, and such was her infatuation she feared she was once again pregnant by this man. When she told him that she bore his second child, he again abandoned her and refused to face up to his responsibilities, and absconded for a second time.
For weeks she worried what she should do, until at breakfast on Sunday, 4 July 1880 Mary broke the news to her appalled father. This was too much for him to bear, and in a rage he accused her of bringing shame on the family. He insisted that she make arrangements to leave the family home as soon as possible, and that she would have to take Adeline with her. A subdued Mary told him she and the child would leave, as he wished. Given the age in which they lived, her father’s reaction was perhaps understandable, but this outburst and its aftermath would no doubt haunt him until the end of his days.
Bonsall. (Author’s collection)
Following the confrontation with her father, Mary went to her room, taking Adeline with her. She remained there for several hours until 5.30 p.m., when she left the house with her daughter to milk her father’s cows. Two hours later her father saw her and his granddaughter from a distance, walking towards Grange Mill. The distance between them was too great for him to speak to Mary, but he presumed she was going to her uncle’s house, which she visited regularly. However, he would learn in just a few hours that this was a mistaken belief, and he was unaware at the time that, before leaving the house earlier, Mary had left a letter addressed to her mother in which she gave details of her plans, and which would only be found some hours later.
Mary spent the next few hours wandering about the district, and was seen by a number of people who knew her. Cousins William and Thomas Bunting were out for an evening stroll and met Mary and Adeline. As they passed, William teased her by calling out, ‘Mary, you will be getting lost up here’. She replied that she knew the lanes too well to become lost. Both men described her as being apparently cheerful, without any worries seemingly preying on her mind. One hour later, she was seen carrying Adeline in her arms by another friend, John Worthy, who later would also say that she seemed to be in good spirits.
Mary’s parents and sisters went to bed at half-past ten and although Mary and Adeline had not returned home, they believed she must have decided to spend the night at her uncle’s home at Grange Mill, which she had done on several occasions in the past. Sadly, this would prove not to be the case.
Henry and Elizabeth Spencer lived fifty yards from the Wright’s farmhouse, and knew all of the family very well. Shortly before midnight, Mrs Spencer was woken by loud knocking at her front door. When she opened it she was surprised to find Mary standing alone in the porch, and who in a calm voice asked if she could come inside. She was drenched from head to foot, and Mrs Spencer looked outside to see if it was raining, but it was not. Mary told her that she was wet because she had been in the pond in one of her father’s fields. She then added that she had left Adeline there, and Mrs Spencer noticed that her visitor was carrying the child’s bonnet and shawl, both of which she recognised.
An alarmed Mrs Spencer rushed to Mary’s home, which she found in darkness. Her repeated shouting and knocking at the door eventually roused the young woman’s parents, and James appeared at the bedroom window. Mrs Spencer explained that Mary was at her home, and he and his wife should come immediately as it seemed that something was terribly wrong. When the Wrights arrived at their neighbour’s home they found Mary standing by the fire drying herself and trying to keep warm. Her mother was by now weeping as she realised instinctively that something dreadful must have occurred. She asked Mary where Adeline was, to which Mary replied, ‘Don’t cry mother, as no one is to blame but me’. Mrs Wright wrapped her arms protectively around Mary’s shoulders and took her home. Meanwhile, James and Henry ran to the field in which the pond was located.
When they reached the pond the moon was hidden behind clouds, and it was so dark that the two men could see nothing. They both waded into the pond, which was just 3ft deep in the middle. They felt under the water, and after a few minutes, Henry felt something under the surface, and he lifted the small lifeless body of Adeline from out of the freezing pond. The men wrapped her in a shawl before making their way to the Wrights’ home. One can only imagine what thoughts were going through the mind of the little girl’s grandfather, who a few hours earlier had ordered his daughter and her child out of his house.
By the time they arrived at the house, Mary had been put to bed, and wa
s being soothed by her mother and Mrs Spencer. Mary cried out, ‘Oh Mrs Spencer, I did not throw her into the water. I took her into my arms and meant to die with her. I have heard people say that drowning is an easy death.’ She continued by saying that she had been in the water for more than two hours, trying to drown herself after Adeline’s death, but had been unable to do so.
It was now after one o’clock in the morning and Adeline’s body was carried into the parlour. Another near neighbour, Matilda Wagstaff was called on to help, and she laid out the child’s body. With Mrs Spencer, she went upstairs to help Mary undress and as the two women did so they found Mary’s clothes to be extremely wet and filthy, suggesting that she had indeed been immersed in the mud and water of the pond. Mary’s sister Alice opened a drawer to take out a nightdress, and found the letter Mary had written earlier that day, and which was addressed to her mother. In it she wrote that she had been abandoned once more by her seducer, and she ended the letter by saying that her family and friends would not see her again as she was intending to drown Adeline and herself.
A message was sent to Constable Hall, the local police officer, who arrived within a few minutes. On arrival he found Dr William Gregson examining Mary, who advised the officer that the young woman could be moved and taken to the lock-up if the constable so wished. However, Constable Hall was obviously a sensitive and understanding man, and he decided to let Mary get some sleep before having to face the ordeal that awaited her in the days ahead.
He sat by her bedside throughout the night, but Mary did not seem to be aware of his presence. She was restless and muttered a great deal to herself and repeatedly moaned that she wished she had saved Adeline. She also cried out, ‘Oh my poor mother! Oh my poor child!’ When she awoke the next morning, she was arrested and charged with her daughter’s murder.
The inquest into Adeline’s death took place on the following Tuesday at the Barley Mow Inn, Bonsall, before the area’s deputy coroner, Mr Brookes. The court heard evidence from Mary’s parents, Mr Spencer, whose wife was ill and could not attend, and Miss Wagstaff, all of whom described the events of Sunday night and the early hours of Monday morning. Constable Hall repeated what Mary had mumbled during the night and of her arrest the following morning on suspicion of murder.
Dr Gregson, who had performed a post-mortem on Adeline, gave details of his findings. There were no external signs of violence, although there was some slight discolouration to the side of the little girl’s face, which he believed was a result of being held tightly against her mother’s breast. The child’s lungs were congested, but the rest of her organs were healthy. There were no signs of strangulation, and death was the result of being immersed in water. At the conclusion of the evidence the jury returned a verdict of ‘found drowned’.
There was also a hearing before the magistrates at Matlock Bridge on Wednesday, 15 July, when a very pale Mary was brought into the dock. She showed no emotion as the witnesses were called to give their evidence, which was similar to that given at the inquest. However, Mrs Spencer had recovered and she was able to tell the court about the confession Mary had made to her. At the conclusion of the prosecution case, Mary’s solicitor, Mr Skidmore, stated that he would not be calling any witnesses and that at the trial the defence would be relying on a plea of insanity.
The trial before Baron Huddleston took place at the Derby Assizes on Tuesday, 28 July, which was a little over three weeks since Adeline’s death. None of the prosecution witnesses were challenged by the defence barrister Horace Smith, who set about convincing the jury that at the time Adeline was drowned, an act for which he acknowledged his client was responsible, Mary had been temporarily insane. He also emphasised that this had been no sham attempt at suicide by Mary. After holding her daughter under the water until she died, Mary had genuinely intended to drown herself, but despite being in the pond for over two hours, she had found it impossible to do so in just 3ft of water.
The Crown’s medical witness, Dr Gregory, had examined Mary within two hours of the drowning, and he was of the opinion that she may have been suffering from brain fever, but he was not convinced she was insane at the time. However, the defence called Dr Webb, who had known Mary for many years, and he was firmly of the belief that she had not been sane at the time she drowned her daughter. He suggested that feelings of dejection or depression could indicate that insanity may possibly occur in an individual later. Those who did become insane frequently changed their disposition and might behave inappropriately towards those they loved best. Feelings of distress and anxiety, which Mary must have experienced on the Sunday morning she told her father about her second pregnancy, could accelerate any tendency towards insanity.
Other witnesses were called to give evidence on this issue. Elisabeth Spencer stated that as soon as she opened the door to Mary on the night of the killing, she had realised immediately that something was amiss and that the young woman seemed in very low spirits and was not in her right mind. Mary’s father described his daughter as a devoted and loving mother who had until recently seemed very happy. However, in recent weeks she had become depressed and had taken to spending many hours alone in her room. She had always slept with Adeline in her bed, but her parents had become so concerned at this change in her personality that they arranged for their daughter Elizabeth to sleep in the room. Elizabeth described her sister as being bright and cheerful, who loved Adeline dearly. However, more recently she too had noticed her become withdrawn. Of course at this time none of the family knew the reason for her depression.
The defence was attempting to convince the jury that Mary had become dejected having realised she was pregnant once more, and this was exacerbated when her lover deserted her yet again. The unsympathetic response of her father had resulted in her becoming temporarily insane, which in turn led to her drowning Adeline, but failing to kill herself as she had genuinely wished to.
Even the prosecution was sympathetic, and in his final speech to the jury, Mr Weightman for the Crown said to them, ‘It is a painful case and I would be glad if you could find a verdict in her favour, but you have your duty to do’. He pointed out that it was natural for a young woman in the accused’s situation to become dejected, but there was no history of insanity, and he insisted that she had not been insane at the time she killed Adeline.
In his summing up, the judge told the jury that he acknowledged that as individuals he and they would no doubt wish to help any young woman who found herself in such distressing circumstances as the prisoner in the dock had done after first her lover abandoned her, and then her father told her she must leave the family home. However, he and they were concerned with justice on this occasion and he warned them, ‘If you failed out of tenderness and weak-kneedness to do your duty, the time might come when the same thing will be turned against you in bitter reproach’. The jury heeded his words, for after deliberating for a little under thirty minutes they returned with a verdict of guilty to murder, but this was accompanied by a strong recommendation for mercy.
Baron Huddleston turned to Mary and said:
Prisoner at the bar, you have been convicted of the most serious offence known to the law. I quite agree with the verdict of the jury. In all probability you, overcome by the shame and dread of being turned out into the world, went into that mere. You wandered about irresolute for a long time, but ultimately entered the water with the intention of taking your own life and the child’s too, and in the result you were saved, and the child was drowned. That in the eyes of the law is murder, but the jury have accompanied the verdict with the strongest recommendation for mercy, and that recommendation shall be forwarded to the proper officer of her Majesty, who I have no doubt will pay great respect to the recommendation of the jury, and to the circumstances of the case, and to the representation which I feel it to be my duty to make.
The only sentence available to the judge was the death penalty, and he asked Mary if she wished to say anything before it was passed. In a low, faltering voice Mary
said simply that she was pregnant. English law forbade the execution of a pregnant woman, and in such cases the sentence was deferred until the condemned had given birth. In later years a doctor would examine the prisoner to confirm this, but in the 1880s, a jury of matrons was called upon to do so. Members of the court staff were no doubt prepared for Mary’s statement, given the nature of the evidence heard during the trial. The High Sherrif was able to empanel twelve married women within a very short space of time. The women went into a side room with Mary, and following their examination of her they confirmed that she was pregnant when they returned to the court. The judge thus directed that her execution should be postponed until after she had given birth to the child.
The case had understandably generated a great deal of interest throughout the county, and it emerged that public opinion was overwhelmingly sympathetic towards Mary. The Derby Daily Telegraph and Reporter came out strongly in her support, despite some misgivings regarding what it believed to be her loose behaviour. An editorial, in favour of a reprieve, stated that there was overwhelming evidence that she had been temporarily insane at the time of her daughter’s death. The paper did not necessarily believe that her father’s reaction to the news that she was pregnant for a second time was wrong, but it was felt that it did contribute to her state of mind at the time, as she was no doubt deeply worried about the prospect of being left unsupported with two children.
The author of one letter to the editor probably spoke for many. It read as follows:
Derbyshire Murders Page 9
