The law has been obeyed.
The general attitude of tenseness is relieved. The guards quickly
unbuckle the straps and carry the body to the autopsy room, and after
placing it upon the stone-topped table begin to remove the clothes. The
hum of conversation becomes general. The witnesses are departing.
I commence the autopsy, feeling that my report will be, “Autopsy upon the
body of ⸺ No. ⸺, convicted of murder, first degree and today executed at
this prison, showed all organs and tissues to be normal.”
As I begin my long sweeping incision, the thought always strikes me:
“This must also be done because it is the Law,” and the invariable
question comes, “Is it really the Law, or is it to insure the carrying
out of the Law?”
In other words, if the Chair fails, the post mortem succeeds.
* * * * *
There is little left to tell. The evening papers will state that
“So-and-so, convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to death, was
electrocuted at Sing Sing Prison early this morning.” They will rehearse
the grewsome history of the crime and will tell how the murderer, with
firm step, entered the execution chamber at 5:44:10 a. m., and was
strapped in the chair at 5:45:00 a. m.
These details are quite correct. I can vouch for them, for I let the
reporters take my notes, which are official, and they copy the data and
embody it in their stories.
They invariably dress up the “first contact,” however, so their stories
read about like this, “At 5:45:10 Warden Blank threw the switch, pressed
the button, or dropped his handkerchief, as a signal” (it is always one
of these three).
Well, I’m rather glad that they credit it to the Warden, and I really
feel better that I and my new, bright yellow pencil, freshly sharpened,
have been overlooked.