INTERESTING INSTANCES
Description of the new gallows at Newgate—"The fall
of the leaf"—Great crowds at the Old Bailey, and as
brutal as of old—Enormous crowd at Governor Wall's
execution—Execution of Holloway and Haggerty—Terrible loss
of life in the crowd—Awful levity displayed—Amelioration
of the criminal code—Executions more rare—Capital
punishment gradually restricted to murderers—Dissection
of the bodies abolished—Public exhibition of bodies also
discontinued—Exhibition of the body of Williams, who
murdered the Marrs—Hanging in chains given up—Failures at
executions—Culprits fight for life—Cases of Charles White, of
Luigi Buranelli, of William Bousfield—Calcraft and his method
of hanging—Other hangmen—The cost of a hangman.
The discontinuance of the long-practised procession to Tyburn, and the
reasons for this change have already been fully set forth. The terrible
spectacle was as demoralizing to the public, for whose admonition
it was intended, as the exposure was brutal and cruel towards the
principal actors. The decision to remove the scene of action to the
immediate front of Newgate was in the right direction, as making the
performance shorter and diminishing the area of display. But the Old
Bailey was not exclusively used; at first, and for some few years after
1784, executions took place occasionally at a distance from Newgate.
This was partly due to the survival of the old notion that the scene
of the crime ought also to witness the retribution; partly because
residents in and about the Old Bailey raised a loud protest against the
constant erection of the scaffold in their neighbourhood. As regards
the first, I find that in 1786 John Hogan, the murderer of a Mr. Odell,
an attorney who resided in Charlotte Street, Rathbone Place, was
executed on a gibbet in front of his victim's house. Lawrence Jones, a
burglar, was in 1793 ordered for execution in Hatton Garden, near the
house he had robbed; and when he evaded the sentence by suicide, his
body was exhibited in the same neighbourhood, extended upon a plank on
the top of an open cart, in his clothes, and fettered. From 1809 to
1812, Execution Dock, on the banks of the Thames, was still retained.
Here John Sutherland, commander of the British armed transport "The
Friends," suffered on the 29th June, 1809, for the murder of his
cabin-boy, whom he stabbed after much ill-usage on board the ship as
it lay in the Tagus. On the 18th December, 1812, two sailors, Charles
Palm and Sam Tilling, were hanged at the same place for the murder of
their captain, James Keith, of the trading vessel "Adventure," upon
the high seas. They were taken in a cart to the place of execution,
amidst a vast concourse of people. "Palm, as soon as he was seated in
the cart, put a quid of tobacco into his mouth, and offered another to
his companion, who refused it with indignation. . . . Some indications
of pity were offered for the fate of Tilling; for Palm, execration
alone."
But the Old Bailey gradually, and in spite of all objections urged,
monopolized the dread business of execution. The first affair of the
kind on this spot was on the 3rd of December, 1783, when, in pursuance
of an order issued by the Recorder to the sheriffs of Middlesex and
the keeper of His Majesty's gaol, Newgate, a scaffold was erected in
front of that prison for the execution of several convicts named by the
Recorder. "Ten were executed; the scaffold hung with black; and the
inhabitants of the neighbourhood, having petitioned the sheriffs to
remove the scene of execution to the old place, were told that the plan
had been well considered, and would be persevered in." The following
23rd April, it is stated that the malefactors ordered for execution on
the 18th inst. were brought out of Newgate about eight in the morning,
and suspended on a gallows of a new construction. "After hanging the
usual time they were taken down, and the machine cleared away in
half-an-hour. By practice the art is much improved, and there is no
part of the world in which villains are hanged in so neat a manner, and
with so little ceremony."
A full description of this new gallows, which was erected in front
of the debtors' door, is to be found in contemporary records. "The
criminals are not exposed to view till they mount the fatal stage.
The last part of the stage, or that next to the gaol, is enclosed by
a temporary roof, under which are placed two seats for the reception
of the sheriffs, one on each side of the stairs leading to the
scaffold. Round the north, west, and south sides are erected galleries
for the reception of officers, attendants, etc., and at the distance
of five feet from the same is fixed a strong railing all round the
scaffold to enclose a place for the constables. In the middle of this
machinery is placed a movable platform, in form of a trap-door, ten
feet long by eight wide, on the middle of which is placed the gibbet,
extending from the gaol across the Old Bailey. This movable platform
is raised six inches higher than the rest of the scaffold, and on it
the convicts stand; it is supported by two beams, which are held in
their place by bolts. The movement of the lever withdraws the bolts,
the platform falls in;" and this, being much more sudden and regular
than that of a cart drawn away, had the effect of causing immediate
death. A broadsheet dated April 24th, 1787, describing an execution on
the newly invented scaffold before the debtors' door, Newgate, says,
"The scaffold on which these miserable people suffered is a temporary
machine which was drawn out of the yard of the sessions' house by
horses; . . . it is supported by strong posts fixed into grooves made in
the street; . . . the whole is temporary, being all calculated to take
to pieces, which are preserved within the prison."
This contrivance appears to have been copied, with improvements,
from that which had been used in Dublin at a still earlier date; for
that city claims the priority in establishing the custom of hanging
criminals at the gaol itself. The Dublin "engine of death," as the
gallows are styled in the account from which the following description
is taken, consisted of an iron bar parallel to the prison wall, and
about four feet from it, but strongly affixed thereto with iron scroll
clamps. "From this bar hang several iron loops, in which the halters
are tied. Under this bar at a proper distance is a piece of flooring
or platform, projecting somewhat beyond the range of the iron bar, and
swinging upon hinges affixed to the wall. The entrance upon this floor
or leaf is from the middle window over the gate of the prison; and
this floor is supported below, while the criminals stand upon it, by
two pieces of timber, which are made to slide in and out of the prison
wall through apertures made for that purpose. When the criminals are
tied up and prepared for their fate, this floor suddenly falls down,
upon withdrawing the supporters inwards. They are both drawn at once
by a windlass, and the unhappy culprits remain suspended." This mode
of execution, it is alleged, gave rise to the old vulgar chaff, "Take
care, or you'll die at the fall of the leaf." The machinery in use in
Dublin is much the same as that employed at many gaols now-a-days. But
the fall apart and inwards of two leaves is considered superior. The
latter is the method still followed at Newgate.
The sentences inflicted in front of Newgate were not limited to
hanging. In the few years which elapsed between the establishment of
the gallows at Newgate and the abolition of the practice of burning
females for petty treason, more than one woman suffered this penalty
at the Old Bailey. One case is preserved by Catnach, that of Phœbe
Harris, who in 1788 was "barbariously" executed and afterward burned
before Newgate for coining. She is described as a well-made little
woman, something more than thirty years of age, of a pale complexion
and not disagreeable features. "When she came out of prison she
appeared languid and terrified, and trembled greatly as she advanced
to the stake, where the apparatus for the punishment she was about to
experience seemed to strike her mind with horror and consternation,
to the exclusion of all power of recollectedness in preparation for
the approaching awful moment." She walked from the debtors' door to
a stake fixed in the ground about halfway between the scaffold and
Newgate Street. She was immediately tied by the neck to an iron bolt
fixed near the top of the stake, and after praying fervently for a few
minutes, the steps on which she stood were drawn away, and she was left
suspended. A chain fastened by nails to the stake was then put round
her body by the executioner with his assistants. Two cart-loads of
faggots were piled about her, and after she had hung for half-an-hour
the fire was kindled. The flames presently burned the halter, the body
fell a few inches, and hung then by the iron chain. The fire had not
quite burned out at twelve, in nearly four hours, that is to say. A
great concourse of people attended on this melancholy occasion.
The change from Tyburn to the Old Bailey had worked no improvement as
regards the gathering together of the crowd or its demeanour. As many
spectators as ever thronged to see the dreadful show, and they were
packed into a more limited space, disporting themselves as heretofore
by brutal horseplay, coarse jests, and frantic yells. It was still the
custom to offer warm encouragement or bitter disapproval, according
to the character and antecedents of the sufferer. The highwayman,
whose exploits many in the crowd admired or emulated, was cheered
and bidden to die game; the man of better birth could hope for no
sympathy, whatever his crime. At the execution of Governor Wall, in
1802, the furious hatred of the mob was plainly apparent in their
appalling cries. His appearance on the scaffold was the signal for
three prolonged shouts from an innumerable populace, the brutal
effusion of one common sentiment. It was said that so large a crowd
had never collected since the execution of Mrs. Brownrigg, nor had the
public indignation risen so high. Pieman and ballad-monger did their
usual roaring trade amidst the dense throng. No sooner was the job
finished than half-a-dozen competitors appeared, each offering the
identical rope for sale at a shilling an inch. One was the "yeoman of
the halter," a Newgate official, the executioner's assistant, whom Mr.
J. T. Smith, who was present at the execution, describes as "a most
diabolical-looking little wretch—Jack Ketch's head man." The yeoman
was, however, undersold by his wife, "Rosy Emma, exuberant in talk and
hissing hot from Pie Corner, where she had taken her morning dose of
gin-and-bitters." A little further off, says Mr. Smith, was "a lath
of a fellow past threescore years and ten, who had just arrived from
the purlieus of Black Boy Alley, woebegone as Romeo's apothecary,
exclaiming, 'Here's the identical rope at sixpence an inch.'"
Whenever the public attention had been specially called to a particular
crime, either on account of its atrocity, the doubtfulness of the
issue, or the superior position of the perpetrator, the attendance at
the execution was certain to be tumultuous, and the conduct of the mob
disorderly. This was notably the case at the execution of Holloway
and Haggerty in 1807, an event long remembered from the fatal and
disastrous consequences which followed it. They were accused by a
confederate, who, goaded by conscience, had turned approver, of the
murder of a Mr. Steele, who kept a lavender warehouse in the city,
and who had gardens at Feltham, whither he often went to distil the
lavender, returning to London the same evening. One night he was
missing, and after a long interval his dead body was discovered,
shockingly disfigured, in a ditch. Four years passed without the
detection of the murderers, but in the beginning of 1807 one of them,
at that time just sentenced to transportation, made a full confession,
and implicated Holloway and Haggerty. They were accordingly apprehended
and brought to trial, the informer, Hanfield by name, being accepted as
king's evidence. Conviction followed mainly on his testimony; but the
two men, especially Holloway, stoutly maintained their innocence to the
last. Very great excitement prevailed in the town throughout the trial,
and this greatly increased when the verdict was known.
An enormous crowd assembled to witness the execution, amounting, it
was said, to the hitherto unparalleled number of forty thousand. By
eight o'clock not an inch of ground in front of the platform was
unoccupied. The pressure soon became so frightful that many would have
willingly escaped from the crowd; but their attempts only increased
the general confusion. Very soon women began to scream with terror;
some, especially of low stature, found it difficult to remain standing,
and several, although held up for some time by the men nearest them,
presently fell, and were at once trampled to death. Cries of Murder!
murder! were now raised, and added greatly to the horrors of the scene.
Panic became general. More women, children, and many men were borne
down, to perish beneath the feet of the rest. The most affecting and
distressing scene was at Green Arbour Lane, just opposite the debtors'
door of the prison. Here a couple of piemen had been selling their
wares; the basket of one of them, which was raised upon a four-legged
stool, was upset. The pieman stooped down to pick up his scattered
stock, and some of the mob, not seeing what had happened, stumbled over
him. No one who fell ever rose again. Among the rest was a woman with
an infant at the breast. She was killed, but in the act of falling she
forced her child into the arms of a man near her, and implored him
in God's name to save it; the man, needing all his care for his own
life, threw the child from him, and it passed along the heads of the
crowd, to be caught at last by a person who struggled with it to a cart
and deposited it there in safety. In another part of the crowd seven
persons met their death by suffocation.
In this convulsive struggle for existence people fought fiercely with
one another, and the weakest, of course the women, went under. One
cart-load of spectators having broken down, some of its occupants fell
off the vehicle, and were instantly trampled to death. This went on for
more than an hour, until the malefactors were cut down and the gallows
removed; then the mob began to thin, and the streets were cleared by
the city marshals and a number of constables. The catastrophe exceeded
the worst anticipations. Nearly one hundred dead and dying lay about;
and after all had been removed, the bodies for identification, the
wounded to hospitals, a cart-load of shoes, hats, petticoats, and
fragments of wearing apparel were picked up. St. Bartholomew's Hospital
was converted into an impromptu morgue, and all persons who had
relatives missing were admitted to identify them. Among the dead was a
sailor lad whom no one knew; he had his pockets filled with bread and
cheese, and it was generally supposed that he had come a long distance
to see the fatal show.
A tremendous crowd assembled when Bellingham was executed in 1812
for the murder of Spencer Percival, at that time prime minister; but
there were no serious accidents, beyond those caused by the goring of
a maddened, over-driven ox which forced its way through the crowd.
Precautions had been taken by the erection of barriers, and the
posting of placards at all the avenues to the Old Bailey, on which
was printed, "Beware of entering the crowd! Remember thirty poor
persons were pressed to death by the crowd when Haggerty and Holloway
were executed!" The concourse was very great, notwithstanding these
warnings. It was still greater at Fauntleroy's execution in 1824, when
no less than 100,000 persons assembled, it was said. Every window
and roof which could command a view of the horrible performance was
occupied. All the avenues and approaches, places whence nothing could
be seen of the scaffold, were blocked by persons who had overflowed
from the area in front of the gaol.
At Courvoisier's execution in 1840 it was the same, or worse. As early
as six o'clock the number assembled already exceeded that seen on
ordinary occasions; by seven o'clock the whole space was so thronged
that it was impossible to move one way or the other. Some persons
were kept for more than five hours standing against the barriers, and
many nearly fainted from exhaustion. Every window had its party of
occupants; the adjoining roofs were equally crowded. High prices were
asked and paid for front seats or good standing room. As much as £5
was given for the attic story of the Lamb's Coffee House; £2 was a
common price for a window. At the George public-house to the south of
the drop, Sir W. Watkin Wynn, Bart., hired a room for the night and
morning, which he and a large party of friends occupied before and
during the execution; in an adjoining house, that of an undertaker,
was Lord Alfred Paget, also with several friends. Those who had hired
apartments spent the night in them, keeping up their courage with
liquids and cigars. Numbers of ladies were present, although the public
feeling was much against their attendance. One well-dressed woman fell
out of a first-floor window on to the shoulders of the crowd below, but
neither she nor any one else was greatly hurt. The city authorities
had endeavoured to take all precautions against panic and excitement
among the crowd, and caused a number of stout additional barriers to be
erected in front of the scaffold, and although one of these gave way
owing to the extraordinary pressure, no serious accident occurred.
But there is little doubt that as executions became more rare they made
more impression on the public mind. Already a strong dislike to the
reckless and almost indiscriminate application of the extreme penalty
was apparent in all classes, and the mitigation of the criminal code,
for which Romilly had so strenuously laboured, was daily more and more
of an accomplished fact. In 1832 capital punishment was abolished for
forgery, except in cases of forging or altering wills or powers of
attorney to transfer stock. Nevertheless, after that date no person
was executed for this offence. In the same year capital punishment
was further restricted, and ceased to be the legal sentence for
coining, sheep or horse stealing, and stealing in a dwelling-house.
House-breaking, as distinguished from burglary, was similarly
exempted in the following year; next, the offences of returning from
transportation, stealing post-office letters, and sacrilege were no
longer punishable with death. In 1837 Lord John Russell's Acts swept
away a number of capital offences, including cutting and maiming,
rick-burning, robbery, burglary, and arson. Within two years the
number of persons sentenced to death in England had fallen from four
hundred and thirty-eight in 1837 to fifty-six in 1839. Gradually the
application of capital punishment became more and more restricted, and
was soon the penalty for murder alone. While in London, for instance,
in 1829, twenty-four persons had been executed for crimes other than
murder, from 1832 to 1844 not a single person had been executed in the
metropolis except for this the gravest crime. In 1837 the death penalty
was practically limited to murder or attempts to murder, and in 1841
this was accepted as the almost universally established rule. Seven
other crimes, however, were still capital by law, and so continued till
the passing of the Criminal Consolidation Acts of 1861.
With the amelioration of the criminal code, other cruel concomitants
of execution also disappeared. In 1832 the dissection of bodies cut
down from the gallows, which had been decreed centuries previous, was
abolished; the most recent enactment in force was that which directed
the dissection of all bodies of executed murderers, the idea being
to intensify the dread of capital punishment. That such dread was
not universal or deep-seated may be gathered from the fact that well
authenticated cases were known of criminals selling their own bodies
to surgeons for dissection. This dissection was performed for Newgate
prisoners in Surgeons' Hall, adjoining Newgate, the site of the present
Sessions' House of the Old Bailey, and the operation was witnessed by
students and a number of curious spectators. Lord Ferrers' body was
brought to Surgeons' Hall after execution in his own carriage and six;
after the post mortem had been performed, the corpse was exposed to
view in a first-floor room.
Pennant speaks of Surgeons' Hall as a handsome building, ornamented
with Ionic pilasters, and with a double flight of steps to the first
floor. Beneath is a door for the admission of the bodies of murderers
and other felons. There were other public dissecting rooms for
criminals. One was attached to Hicks' Hall, the Clerkenwell Sessions'
House, built out of monies provided by Sir Baptist Hicks, a wealthy
alderman of the reign of James I. Persons were still living in 1855 who
had witnessed dissections at Hicks' Hall, and "whom the horrid scene,
with the additional effect of some noted criminals hanging on the
walls, drove out again sick and faint, as we have heard some relate,
and with pale and terrified features, to get a breath of air." The
dissection of executed criminals was abolished soon after the discovery
of the crime of burking, with the idea that ignominy would no longer
attach to an operation which ceased to be compulsory for the most
degraded beings; and that executors or persons having lawful possession
of the bodies of people who had died friendless, would voluntarily
surrender them for the advancement of medical science.
Another brutal practice had nearly disappeared about the time of the
abolition of dissection. This was the public exhibition of the body,
as was done in the case of Mrs. Phipoe, the murderess, who was executed
in front of Newgate in 1798, and her body publicly exhibited in a place
built for the purpose in the Old Bailey. About this time we find that
the bodies of two murderers, Clench and Mackay, "were publicly exposed
in a stable in Little Bridge Street, near Apothecaries' Hall, Surgeons'
Hall being let to the lieutenancy of the county for the accommodation
of the militia." In 1811 Williams, who murdered the Marrs in Ratcliffe
Highway, having committed suicide in gaol to escape hanging, it was
determined that a public exhibition should be made of the body through
the neighbourhood which had been the scene of the monster's crimes.
A long procession was formed, headed by constables, who cleared the
way with their staves. Then came the newly-formed horse patrol, with
drawn cutlasses, parish officers, peace officers, the high constable of
the county of Middlesex on horseback, and then the body of Williams,
"extended at full length on an inclined platform erected on the cart,
about four feet high at the head, and gradually sloping towards the
horse, giving a full view of the body, which was dressed in blue
trousers and a blue-and-white striped waistcoat, but without a coat,
as when found in the cell. On the left side of the head the fatal
mall, and on the right the ripping chisel, with which the murders had
been committed, were exposed to view. The countenance of Williams was
ghastly in the extreme, and the whole had an appearance too horrible
for description." The procession traversed Ratcliffe twice, halting
for a quarter of an hour in front of the victims' dwelling, and was
accompanied throughout by "an immense concourse of persons, eager
to get a sight of the murderer's remains. . . . All the shops in the
neighbourhood were shut, and the windows and tops of the houses were
crowded with spectators."
Hanging in chains upon the gibbet which had served for the execution,
or on another specially erected on some commanding spot, had fallen
into disuse by 1832. But there was an attempt to revive it at that
date, when the act for dispensing with the dissection of criminals
was passed. A clause was inserted to the effect that "the bodies of
all prisoners convicted of murder should either be hung in chains, or
buried under the gallows on which they had been executed, . . .
according to the discretion of the court before whom the prisoners
might be tried." The revival of this barbarous practice caused
much indignation in certain quarters, but it was actually tried in
two provincial towns, Leicester and Durham. At the first-named the
exhibition nearly created a tumult, and the body was taken down and
buried, but not before the greatest scandal had been caused by the
unseemly proceedings of the crowd that flocked to see the sight. A sort
of fair was held, gaming-tables were set up, cards were played under
the gibbet, to the disturbance of the public peace and the annoyance
of all decent people. At Jarrow Stake, where the Durham murderer's body
was exposed, there were similar scenes, mingled with compassion for the
culprit's family, and a subscription was set on foot for them then and
there at the foot of the gibbet. Later on, after dark, some friends of
the deceased stole the body and buried it in the sand, and this was the
end of hanging in chains. After this a law was passed which prescribed
that the bodies of all executed murderers should be buried within the
walls of the gaol.
Although these objectionable practices had disappeared, there were
still many shocking incidents at executions, owing to the bungling and
unskilful way in which the operation was performed. The rope still
broke sometimes, although it was not often that the horrid scene at
Jersey at the beginning of the century was repeated. There the hangman
added his weight to that of the suspended culprit, and having first
pulled him sideways, then got upon his shoulders, so that the rope
broke. "To the great surprise of all who witnessed this dreadful scene,
the poor criminal rose straight upon his feet, with the hangman on his
shoulders, and immediately loosened the rope with his fingers." After
this the sheriffs sent for another rope, but the spectators interfered,
and the man was carried back to gaol. The whole case was referred to
the king, and the poor wretch, whose crime had been a military one, was
eventually pardoned. A somewhat similar event happened at Chester not
long afterwards; the ropes by which two offenders were turned off broke
a few inches from their necks. They were taken back to gaol, and were
again brought out in the afternoon, by which time fresh and stronger
ropes had been procured, and the sentence was properly and completely
carried out. Other cases might be quoted, especially that of William
Snow, _alias_ Sketch, who slipped from the gallows at Exeter and fell
to the ground. He soon rose to his feet, and, hearing the sorrowful
exclamations of the populace, coolly said, "Good people, do not be
hurried; I am not, I can wait."
Similar cases were not wanting as regards the executions before
Newgate. Others were not less horrible, although there was no failure
of apparatus. Sometimes the condemned man made a hard fight for life.
When Charles White was executed in 1823 for arson, he arranged a
handkerchief in such a way that the executioner found a difficulty in
pinioning his hands. White managed to keep his wrists asunder, and
continued to struggle with the officials for some time. Eventually he
was pinioned with a cord in the usual manner. On the scaffold he made
a violent attempt to loosen his bonds, and succeeded in getting his
hands free. Then with a strong effort he pushed off the white cap, and
tried to liberate his neck from the halter, which by this time had been
adjusted. The hangman summoned assistance, and with help tied the cap
over White's face with a handkerchief. The miserable wretch during the
whole of this time was struggling with the most determined violence,
to the great horror of the spectators. Still he resisted, and having
got from the falling drop to the firm part of the platform, he nearly
succeeded in tearing the handkerchief from his eyes. However, the
ceremony went forward, and when the signal was given the drop sank.
The wretched man did not fall with it, but jumped on to the platform,
and seizing the rope with his hands, tried to avoid strangulation. The
spectacle was horrible; the convict was half on the platform, half
hanging, and the convulsions of his body were appalling. The crowd
vociferously yelled their disapproval, and at length the executioner
forced the struggling criminal from the platform, so that the rope
sustained his whole weight. His face was visible to the whole crowd,
and was fearful to behold. Even now his sufferings were not at an end,
and his death was not compassed until the executioner terminated his
sufferings by hanging on to his legs.
When Luigi Buranelli was executed in 1855, through the improper
adjustment of the rope his sufferings were prolonged for five minutes;
"his chest heaved, and it was evident that his struggle was a fearful
one." A worse case still was that of William Bousfield, who, when
awaiting execution for murder, about the same date, had attempted
to throw himself upon the fire in his condemned cell. He was in
consequence so weak when brought out for execution, that he had to be
carried by four men, two supporting his body and two his legs. His
wretched, abject condition, seated in a chair under the drop, was such
as almost to unnerve the executioner Calcraft, who had been further
upset by a letter threatening to shoot him when he appeared to perform
his task. Calcraft, the moment he had adjusted the cap and rope, ran
down the steps, drew the bolt, and disappeared. "For a second or two
the body hung motionless, then, with a strength that astonished the
attendant officials, Bousfield slowly drew himself up, and rested with
his feet on the right side of the drop. One of the turnkeys rushed
forward and pushed him off. Again the wretched creature succeeded
in obtaining foothold, but this time on the left side of the drop."
Calcraft was forced to return, and he once more pushed Bousfield off,
who for the fourth time regained his foothold. Again he was repelled,
this time Calcraft adding his weight to the body, and the strangulation
was completed.
It was stated in evidence before the Commission on Capital Punishment
in 1864, that Calcraft's method of hanging was very rough, much the
same as if he had been hanging a dog. Calcraft, of whom mention has
just been made, was by trade a lady's shoemaker, and before he took to
hanging he was employed as a watchman at Reid's brewery in Liquorpond
Street. He was at first engaged as assistant to the executioner Tom
Cheshire, but in due course rose to be chief. He was always known as
a mild-mannered man of simple tastes, much given to angling in the
New River, and a devoted rabbit fancier. He was well known in the
neighbourhood where he resided, and the street gamins cried "Jack
Ketch" as he went along the street. While Calcraft was in office other
aspirants to fame appeared in the field. One was Askern, who had been
a convicted prisoner at York, but who consented to act as hangman
when Calcraft was otherwise engaged and no other functionary could be
obtained. It was not always easy to hire a hangman. There is still
extant a curious petition presented to the Treasury by Ralph Griffith,
Esq., high sheriff of Flintshire, which sets forth that the petitioner
had been at great expense by sending clerks and agents to Liverpool and
Shrewsbury to hire an executioner. The man to be hanged belonged to
Wales, and no Welshman would do the job. Travelling expenses of these
agents cost £15, and another £10 were spent in the hire of a Shropshire
man, who deserted, and was pursued, but without success. Another man
was hired, himself a convict, whose fees for self and wife were twelve
guineas. Then came the cost of the gallows, £4. 12_s._; and finally
the funeral, cart, coffin, and other petty expenses, amounting to £7.
10_s._, making nearly £50 as the total expense.