The
Mysterious Bill O’Jacks Murders
The year
is 1832. The place is Saddleworth Moor, overlooking the conurbation of Oldham,
Manchester. Saddleworth is, of course, more closely remembered for the horrific
and sadistic Moors Murders, the memory of which lingers on to this day.
However, not many people know the tale of another, equally disturbing case that
took place one hundred and thirty years previously in a well frequented, yet
remote local pub called The Bill O’Jacks.
The
landlord of the pub was one William Bradbury who was (unbelievably for the
time) eighty four years of age. Let us not forget this was a time when life
expectancy in Cottonopolis was just eighteen for the average adult male.
Bradbury’s son was the local Gamekeeper, his name was Thomas and he was forty
six. It was alleged that Thomas was of ill temper and as a result quite
unpopular with the local community. The Bill O’Jacks wasn’t the pub’s proper
name – locally it was known as The Moorcock Inn, the alternative name comes
about from a tradition in which a place was nicknamed according to father of
the owner. Thus the owner of the pub was William and his father must have been
called Jack, so Bill, son of Jack equals Bill O’Jack.
Bill
O'Jacks, Saddleworth, Oldham (c) Greenfield
Gone By.
What
happened?
On the
evening of April 2nd, 1832 a violent struggle occurred within the
walls of the pub. Reports that followed on later suggested that there was
complete and utter carnage at the scene, with blood and vile gory matter
splattered all over the walls and furniture of the interior.
William,
the father had been discovered lying in his bed with his face beaten in.
Thomas, the son was found lying downstairs with such severe injuries to his
head and body he was virtually unrecognisable – whoever had killed him must
have been of mighty strength, for Thomas stood at over six feet tall and was
heavily built in stature.
Before he
finally expired William was heard to utter the phrase “Patts” or “Platts”. Much
debate surrounded what this could have meant at the time. Some people thought
“Patts” might have referred to Irish Navvies who were working in the area and
had perhaps behaved in a threatening way towards the two men. “Platts” may have
been in reference to Gypsies who were frequenting the area and had had a run in
with Thomas over access to his land. This was a time before such things
as cheap landlord insurance existed, so matters
of money and tenancy were never easily resolved and usually ended up in fisticuffs.
Despite
an inquest and lots of evidence being heard from locals the murders were never
solved and no-one ever brought to account. The only other possible suspect in
the case was another person that Thomas had got into an argument with, a local
poacher who was due to stand trial at Pontefract Court. He’d challenged Thomas
and allegedly told him there was no way he would be brave enough to stand trial
against him. The murders had happened the day before the trial was about to
take place. However, the case against the poacher was simply not strong
enough to warrant either an arrest or a detention and since no other leads were
discovered the mystery, to this day, remains completely unsolved. It still
intrigues locals to the area and is a story that has passed down through
generations of people who live in and around Saddleworth, this most notorious
moorland area of Manchester.
Bill
O'Jacks, Saddleworth, Oldham. (c) Ashley Jackson.
What
happened to the pub?
It was
eventually demolished to make way for a plantation around a hundred years later
in 1937. It must have been very off putting for the locals to go in carousing
after such a gruesome event taking place there – and quite amazing it continued
for so long after the deaths. Many people go to visit the site and indeed where
the bodies are buried in Saddleworth Church Yard, the grave is still in
excellent condition and the inscription on the tomb can be read very clearly
indeed (as you can see from the picture). As folklore had it at the time, songs
and poems were written about the crime as well, which told the story
contemporaneously and still manage to breathe much life into this aged mystery:
"Whoever
did this horrid deed, their blackened souls did save
And took
their morbid secret with them to the grave
So the
mystery still lives on and no-one has a clue
To what happened on that April night in eighteen
hundred and thirty two"
(c) Lowri Welsch
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