Instantaneous and Painless? Execution Procedure After 1880
The hangman at Adelaide Gaol in the 1880s and 1890s was one person who was keen to try out the new techniques outlined in the Colonial Office’s documents. At the execution of William Burns in 1883 the journalist remarked how:
The old hangman’s knot in use on former occasions, gave place in this instance to the style of noose adopted by [William] Marwood, the English hangman.
The knot is replaced by a thimble neatly spliced at one end of the rope, and the other end being passed through this thimble forms the noose... This has proved to be a far better arrangement than the old one.[272]Moreover, a decade later in 1894, the newspaper remarked on how the hangman was now using a rope fixed by a �copper eyelet' paired with a �closely fitting leather washer' to prevent it from slipping.[273] Both remarks suggest a technique that aligned closely that was suggested by the Colonial Office over a decade earlier.
Despite help from the Colonial Office to make colonial hangmen less error-prone, it is still unclear whether it was entirely painless and instanÂtaneous exercise from the perspective of the condemned criminal. Take the execution of Joshua Beard in 1897 at Adelaide Gaol. It made use of these improved methods and it was said to have gone smoothly by the journalist present—or at least nothing was noted to the contrary.[274] However, Dr. W. Ramsay Smith testifies that Beard's heartbeat did not expire until precisely 14 minutes and 45 seconds after the drop had been activated. As the medical officer on duty he stood alongside the criminal the moment the drop fell, immediately checking him for physiological signs of death. Beard's declining heart rate was noted as 160 beats per minute at two minutes after the hanging, 120 at three minutes and 60 at 11 minutes. After 11 minutes his heartbeat became irregular before finally stopping at the stated 14-minute mark.
Upon publishing his findÂings in a small pamphlet Ramsay argued that this fact challenged the idea that the heart ceases to act after death.[275] Later commentary on his publication from the local press offered this as conclusive proof to its readers that hanging was not â€?instantaneous, as is imagined popularly, but is really strangulation'.[276]The belief that hanging may not be the best way to execute society's criminals was not a new one and the 1890s saw a plethora of new suggestions for the Australian colonies to consider. Indeed, each new method promised to be more painless and less confronting than that of hanging. â€?HUMANITY', in a Letter to the Editor of The Brisbane Courier, suggested that drowning the criminal in an iron tank would avoid any disfiguration of the body, be both â€?certain' and â€?painless', while also being â€?devoid of all risks from bungling or miscalculation' that currently existed with death by hanging.[277] In a letter sent to the same newspaper the previous year, â€?D.H.F.' suggested â€?asphyxiation with carbonic acid gas' in an airtight shaft would be â€?rapid, painless, and unaccompanied by disgusting concomitants'.[278] The peculiarly American form of death by electrocution that was emerging late in the nineteenth century was rejected by the South Australian Register for there was an even greater risk of error.[279] The Sydney Morning Herald, also commenting on developments in America, thought that not enough was known about electricity to guard against its misuse at executions.[280] The guillotine, a very effective killing machine, was far too French to be given a fair hearing in the Australian colonies.
Colonial authorities stuck firmly to the punitive methods bestowed on them by England and a legal heritage that privileged hanging over other forms of execution. The response of Australian authorities was thereÂfore not to adopt a new method of execution altogether but to bury the practice of hanging further away from public view.
For instance, by the early 1890s, newspaper reports of executions at Melbourne Gaol begin to reference the existence of a â€?curtain' below the drop.[281] The warder, stationed on the platform itself, would release the curtain the very same moment the trap door was activated. It completely hid the full-body contortions undertaken by the criminal in death. A full-length curtain hiding the body was something of an upgrade on the calico hood that had—for as long as executions were conducted in Australia—prevented the contortion of the eyes and mouth from being seen by the onlooker. Across the border in South Australia a similar arrangement with a black cloth was in place for the execution of William Burns inside Adelaide Gaol.[282] Even into the 1960s the use of obscuring tarpaulins were being referenced in journalist’s accounts of executions.[283] Once the curtain was installed the rope leading into the newly hidden space below the drop was the only way for journalists to make a judgement on the extent of the criminal’s suffering. Whether it twitched violently or swayed slowly back and forth spoke too much of what was going on behind the curtain. The curtain prevented anyone but medical men and experienced gaol offiÂcials from viewing the bodily spasms typical at executions but alarming to journalists and their readers.* * *
Australian executions were practised in order to communicate to both the criminal and onlooker the consequences of crime. However, if this was indeed a didactic exercise, mistakes were frequently made in its impleÂmentation. Faulty equipment and a lack of technical guidance until late in the nineteenth century made it an even chance whether a solemn display of state justice would morph into a gory spectacle. By circulating the 1880 Memorandum, the Colonial Office in London was attempting to rectify long-standing procedural mistakes it had witnessed taking place at the Australian gallows from afar. For colonists striving to be seen as more refined and in step with the age, the unnecessary suffering inflicted upon the body of a criminal through frequent procedural mistakes was difficult to stomach. This was certainly the case even in circumstances far less dramatic than Joseph Mutter’s decapitation in Queensland that opened this chapter. To repeat the words of the Colonial Secretary who signed off on the 1880 Memorandum, it was hoped that â€?humanity and decency’ might be restored to the gallows by following the docuÂment’s instructions. In order to restore the communicative potential of capital punishment, professionalism and expertise needed to replace the amateurism that had characterised execution practice for the majority of the colonial period. It seems that by the time Australia entered the twentieth century, an execution performed â€?correctly’ was one that was entirely painless for the criminal to undergo.