The Terrible Execution Of "William Ockold" For The Murder Of His Wife.
William Ockold, a tailor, was 70 years old and his wife, Sophia was 73 or 74. The couple had been married almost 50 years and lived in Halesowen Street, Oldbury which was then in Worcestershire.
She was last seen alive on the evening of Friday the 9th of November 1862. A neighbour had called and found Sophia lying on the floor moaning in pain. She asked Sophia’s son and his wife to go round which they did and made her some tea and got her to bed. This aggravated Ockold who was heard to say that she only went to bed to prevent him sleeping.
Around 4.00 a.m. on the Saturday morning a policeman was grooming his horse when he heard the sounds of a beating going on next door. He heard Ockold threaten Sophia and heard her cry out “Oh Bill don’t kill me!” At 8.00 a.m.
Maria Glazebrook, a young woman who knew the Ockolds well called and asked about Sophia who she called “grandmother”. Ockold said he did not what she was doing and supposed she was in bed. Maria went upstairs to check and found Sophia’s body lying on the bedroom floor, covered in blood.
A broken mop-stick was laying nearby.
Maria ran out of the house, and fetched in some neighbours, Mr. Weston, butcher, who lived next door, with his wife, being the first to come into the house. In the meantime Ockold went upstairs, took up the body of his murdered wife, and laid it upon the bed.
Police Sgt.
Simmons was soon on scene and saw the old man standing in the chimney corner apparently careless of what was going on around. A crowd of from 200 to 300 persons had assembled outside the house. Simmons arrested Ockold.
Ockold was tried at the Worcestershire Winter Assizes, before Mr. Justice Mellor on the 13th of December 1862.
His counsel, Mr. Benson, argued that there was no motive for the murder nor any premeditation and that therefore the crime was one of manslaughter, in the heat of the moment. It took the jury an hour to reach their verdict of guilty to murder, but they recommended the prisoner to mercy on account of his extreme age.
On the 27th of December it was announced that the Secretary of State for the Home Department, Sir George Grey, had found no reason to reprieve Ockold. The execution was then scheduled for Thursday the 2nd of January 1863.
Some 4-5,000 people had turned up to watch the spectacle which was originally to take place at 8.00 a.m., however the Governor had deferred the execution till after the arrival of the morning post, hoping to the last that a reprieve would arrive.
The execution was reported as follows : “A procession formed up inside Worcester Gaol. First came six javelin men, who ranged themselves in front of the scaffold, then six warders, who ranged themselves behind it.
Then came the Governor of the Gaol and the Under Sheriff, and then Calcraft leading along the old man, at sight of whom, bare-headed, pale and trembling, his long white hair fluttering in the morning breeze, the very crowd who came to see him hanged sent up, with one consent, a long low utterance of pity.
Still he was led on, along the scaffold, up the rude steps, beneath the gallows, on to the drop. Once there, while the burial-service was being ended, he looked calmly down upon the thousands of upturned faces before him.
The Chaplain, who, though not seen could be distinctly heard, then paused, and Calcraft came forward, with some difficulty drew a too small cap over the white flowing hair, over the furrowed face, down to the thin gaunt neck of the old man, quietly dropped the noose upon his shoulders, while the victim trembled in every joint drew it tight around the throat adjusted the knot with deadly nicety upon the blue scaly prominent vein
flipped the other end of the rope over the cross-beam, looped it into a knot around it grasped the shrivelled hand in token of farewell — buckled a strap around the thin weak legs — grasped the hand again — and was about to retire, when the old man questioned him. “I suppose I’m goin now, aint I?” he asked.
“I’ll let you know that,” replied the hangman, and retired.
Then there was one moment in which the chaplain’s voice rose up in the midst of the surrounding silence, and the old man’s weaker voice joined with it, in the antiphon, “Lord have mercy upon us; Christ have mercy upon us; Lord have mercy upon us.”
The words were scarcely ended ere there was a rattling of bolts. The drop fell with a horrible clatter; a wild wail, acute, heart-piercing, arose from the crow, and the body of William Ockold, after a few brief nervous contortions, swung lifeless in the breeze.”
After hanging for the regulation hour the body was buried beside those of two other murderers, under the western wall of the prison, hard by the debtors’ promenade.
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