The Sun.
London, England, 1869-04-21 00:00:00

EXECUTION OF SHEW ARD.

On Tuesday the extreme penalty of the law was carried
out in the case of William Sheward, convicted at the last
!Norwich Assizes of the murder, under extraordinary cir-
cumstances, of his wife, Martha Sheward, in June 1851.
So long a period—nearly forty years—has elapsed since an
execution took place in Norwich Gaol, that a drop was
actually borrowed from the Norfolk County Prison. The
scaffold was erected at the extreme end of the south-east
angle of the prison, and as Sheward was a patient in
the gaol infirmary, as he suffered from acute rheumatism
in the ankles, he had to be removed for execution quite
across the prison. The condemned man, having apparently
relieved his mind by making a full confession of his guilt,
slept well on the Monday night. He had some bread and
milk at 1.30 a.m. on Tuesday morning, and then went to
sleep again until 4.30 a.m. About half-past five he got
up and dressed himself, but declined to have any further
refreshment. The chaplain of the gaol (the Rev. R.
Wade) arrived at the gaol between six and seven a.m.,
and the next hnnr was passed by the convict in earnest
prayer with the rev. gentleman. On receiving the fatal
summons from Calcraft, the executioner, the convict
made an attempt to walk to the scaffold, but he
could not do so in consequence of the pain in his
ankles, and was carried by two warders to a
room near the drop, where be was pinioned. The
doomed man had shewn a considerable amount of nerve
and composure thtui far, but after he was pinioned
a tremor set in which continued until life had passed
away. On leaving the pinioning-room the officials formed
a short procession, headed by the Under-Sheriff of
Norwich (Mr. F. G. Foster), and comprising the prison
surgeon (Mr. W. H. Day), the chaplain, the governor of
the gaol, Calcraft, the prisoner (supported by his two
warders), and a few reporters. There were no other
spectators of the gloomy scene. As the procession
advanced, the chaplain, who was much moved, read aloud
part of the service for the dead. On reaching the scaffold
the prisoner again appeared to pray earnestly. The last
preparations were then completed, and the convict,
having shaken hands with those about him, was committed
to his fate. His struggles were slight and brief. There
was a struggling crowd of about 2,000 persons outside
the gaol, and an intimation that the extreme sentence
of the law had been carried out was made by the hoisting
of a large black flag. The body of the convict, after
banging the usual time, was cut down, and an inquest was
held upon it, in accordance with the new Act regulating
executions.

On Monday the convict had a farewell interview with
his second wife. The interview was, of course, a very
painful one, and appeared to have been unexpected by the
convict, who had addressed the following letter, dated St.
Giles, April 19, to the poor woman :—" My dear Wife,—
write to you under the impression that it is the last
I ever shall write, and I sincerely beg of you, in the
name of God, to be resigned to your fate, for it is God's
Providence that has brought on this change ; and who
knows but it may be for the best? I want you, by God's
help, to forget me, save knowing that I have gone to
eternal rest. I have by my prayers committed you and
the dear children to the care of Almighty God, and I am
sure He will hear my cries. Put your trust in the Lord,
and He will in no wise cast you out. lam very sorry
and heartily grieved that I should have been de
instrument of drawing you into all this trouble and
affliction, and I sincerely thank you, from the bottom
of my heart, that you have been able to forgive me, so
that now I shall be able to rest in peace with God and
man. I think, if you look back for this past two years,
you will see the handywork of the Almighty in reducing
our stock-in-trade, and taking nearly everything from us,
as a judgment on me for my hidden crime (as I have uf ten
thought) ; but now I have confessed before my Maker, I
hope He will restore unto you and my children I,at peace
of mind which passeth all understanding, ai.t. that He
will, by his Divine will, allow you all to prosper fur the
future. Yon will, I hope, try and keep up a little com-
munication with Mrs. —, and not stop because you
don't get an answer from her to your letters, because
you know she cannot see to write. I should
wish you to correspond with Mrs. -- and Mrs. —,
who, I am sure, would ever receive a note
from you with much pleasure ; and, perhaps, when

the children get older might be the means of finding
them employment. Now it is my painful duty to say good-
bye, and that for ever, for I must turn my mind to higher

things. It will give you great consolation to know

that, by making- all reparation in my power to God, I feel
that I can die happy, in the full assurance of a blessed

Redeemer interceding for me at the throne of grace, and
that I shall be forgiven. May the Lord's blessing ever
attend you, and may you and the children ever be haply
is my utmost wish. Now by God's will, I must bow my
head in peace, and say good-bye. Good-bye from your
unfortunate husband, WILLIAM SREWARD." The term
" St. Giles" in the date of the letter refers to the parish in
Norwich in which the gaol is situated.