EATEN BY CROCODILES
Natives of the Ibo tribe of Nigeria, on committing adultery, were sentenced by the elders to this ghastly method of execution. The couple were stripped naked and, tied together, were forced to copulate before the crowd of villagers, to the accompaniment of a cacophony of sound from drums and whistles. Eventually, the witch doctor and two executioners would approach the couple, the latter men proceeding to drive a long wooden stake through their bodies as they lay on the ground.
Leading a procession formed by all the villagers, and subjected to shouts of abuse and vilification, the victims would then be half-dragged, half-carried to the banks of the sacred pool where, the smell of blood having attracted the crocodiles, the two would be hurled into the water, there to be dragged below the surface in a swirling mass of foam and blood, never to be seen again.
ELECTRIC CHAIR
‘To an accompaniment of a dull droning sound, the victim’s body lurches, thrusting hard against the restraining straps; the smell of scorching flesh fills the chamber…’
It was hardly surprising that when electricity was discovered, its application was not solely confined to providing illumination and powering wireless sets; the electric chair just
had
to be created.
When the first English settlers arrived in the American colony, they brought with them traditional methods from home: how to bake a cake, how to build a cottage – and how to dispatch those who broke the law, namely with the noose and gallows. But by 1888 this method, with its unpleasant overtones of lynching, became repugnant to many people, and alternative ways to execute criminals were sought.
The guillotine conjured up too bloody a spectacle to consider, the garotte was little more than a mechanical noose, and even firing squads weren’t always accurate. Eventually, a vote by the learned men of the day decided in favour of electrocution. This newly discovered agent of power (Edison had perfected the lightbulb nine years earlier) promised a quick and clean death, and experiments on animals, using both AC and DC current, proved that it worked, conclusions reinforced by the accidental deaths of American householders who, while incorporating the new system in their homes, inadvertently connected a live wire to the earth terminal.
The first chair to be constructed was of oak, fitted with two electrodes – metal discs each sandwiched between a rubber holder and a pad of damp sponge. The first man to be dispatched by this new device was murderer William Kemmler. On 6 August 1890 in Auburn Prison, New York, he was led into the execution chamber and strapped into the chair. The two electrodes were attached, one to his shaven head, the other to the base of his spine, where his shirt and waistcoat had been split in readiness.
After the black mask had been put over his face, the signal was given and in an adjoining room Edwin Davis, the executioner, switched on the current, delivering about 700 volts for nearly 17 seconds. The effect was immediate, witnesses reporting how the condemned man strained at the straps; how they smelled burning cloth and charred flesh. The current was switched off, to be followed by a second charge of 1,030 volts through the electrodes. After about two minutes, smoke was observed rising from the head electrode, and only when the body was seen to go limp was the power disconnected and the body removed from the chair.
The post-mortem revealed that the portion of the brain beneath the headpiece had hardened, the flesh under the lower electrode being burned through to the spine. The authorities, though satisfied with the general efficacy of the method, realised that much technical development was necessary, and so over the next few years specialists improved the equipment.
One of the most important aspects concerned the electrodes, one school of thought considering that two electrodes were not sufficient. Accordingly, experiments were carried out in later executions, the victims having their hands placed in jars of salt water to which electric wires were connected, and the electrodes attached to head and leg were also moistened to improve conduction of the current. Eventually, it was concluded that three contacts would be enough, one to the head and one to each ankle. A leather helmet lined with copper screening and moistened sponge material was designed, a connection at the apex of the helmet allowing for the attachment of the vital wiring. The ankle electrodes also included sponge material, similarly dampened when the time came.
The amount of voltage, too, was reassessed. As with hanging, where too short a rope brought pain and too long a rope spelled disaster, so with the electric chair: too little current caused agony, too much literally grilled the flesh and fried the brain. It was calculated that in order to bring about unconsciousness within a split second, thereby reducing pain to a minimum, at least 2,000 volts AC were essential. And instead of a continuous flow of current, two charges each of one minute’s duration, separated by a ten-second interval, would bring about a rapid death, usually immediately after the first jolt.
As word of the new and more humane method of execution spread, other states invested in the equipment. Electric chairs were employed in Ohio in 1896, New Jersey in 1906, Virginia in 1908 and North Carolina in 1910. Not all chairs were identical. Some had headrests, some had perforated seats to facilitate the natural bodily reactions experienced during any type of execution. In some chairs the victim was secured by heavy leather straps, in others by a full harness arrangement.
Electrodes were modified in an attempt to prevent the overheating that otherwise caused sparks to arc around the chair. The executioner’s switch panel was sited within the death chamber, eliminating the need for a signalling system to an adjoining room.
But as was only to be expected with such an untried method, opinions differed as to the extent of pain likely to be experienced by the occupants of the chair. Dr Squires, chief physician of Sing-Sing Prison, who attended more than a 138 executions there, averred that such a method of dying was more humane and less painful than any other, some other doctors agreeing. Dr C. F. MacDonald stated that it destroys both conscious and organic life in a shorter space of time than is possible by any other known method, it being the surest, quickest, most efficient and least painful method of inflicting the death penalty that as yet had been devised.
Others disagreed, the distinguished French scientist Professor L. G. Rota writing in 1928: ‘I do not believe that anyone killed by electricity dies instantly, no matter how weak the subject may be; this method of execution is a form of torture.’
Hardly surprisingly, defects and disasters occurred right from the word go. On 27 July 1893 murderer William Taylor was strapped in the chair at Auburn Prison, the impact of the current causing him to stiffen so violently that the front legs of the chair collapsed. Having wedged the chair, the officials continued with the execution, but worse was to follow when it was discovered that the generator had failed.
While electricians were hastily connecting the chair to the mains supply, the unconscious man was carried to a nearby room and drugs were administered to ease any suffering. But shortly afterwards the doctor in attendance checked his condition, only to find that he had died. Nevertheless, his body was carried back into the death chamber, once more to be strapped into the chair and subjected to a further charge of current for over half a minute, thereby complying with the death sentence which, in general terms, stated: ‘It is considered and ordered by the Court that you,—, suffer the punishment of death by the passage of a current of electricity through your body within a week beginning on Sunday, the — day of — in the year of our Lord —. This is the sentence of the law.’
Neither premature death nor even semi-consciousness was allowed to deprive the law of its rights. In March 1936 Mary Creighton, found guilty of disposing of her lover’s wife by having rat poison administered to her, feigned madness in prison, screaming and hurling herself against the bars of her cell. But her acting was to no avail, and when the guards came for her she fainted, and had to be carried to the execution chamber, to be strapped in the chair, there to die, mercifully still unconscious.
Perhaps the most horrific tragedy was played out in Florida State Prison on 4 May 1990 when murderer Jessie Tafero was executed. As to be expected, with reporters forming the greater part of the witnesses, media coverage was extensive, with few grisly details omitted. One journalist described how, after the first surge of current, the victim’s body jerked backwards, smoke and sparks emanating from behind the hood. The next charge produced more smoke and even small flames, but it was evident to all the spectators that the man was still breathing. It was not until a third burst of electricity quelled all movement of the man’s heaving chest that the doctors eventually, and belatedly, declared him to be dead.
In April 1983 three jolts of power were also needed to extinguish the life of John Evans. This was necessary because during the execution the wiring on the leg electrode burned through and had to be repaired while Evans remained strapped into the chair. Upon recommencement, smoke and sparks were seen coming from the victim’s hood, two further applications of electricity being required until the body sagged in its restraining straps.
One execution that attracted media attention all over the United States was that of Ruth Snyder in 1927. Ruth, known as the ‘granite woman’ by the press, had persuaded her weak-willed lover Judd Gray that should they be successful in eliminating her husband Albert, not only could they marry but she would also be able to claim the large life insurance she had taken out on his behalf.
Ruth had already tried three times to kill her husband, by gassing and giving him poison, but somehow he had survived, making Ruth even more determined. Having enlisted Gray’s aid, she purchased a length of curtain wire, a lead window-sash weight and some chloroform and then put her plan into effect.
While she and her husband were out, Gray hid himself in the family home, emerging when Albert, drunk, had retired to bed. The two conspirators entered the bedroom and forthwith attacked him with the weight, having to finish him off by chloroforming him, then strangling him with the wire.
Putting the second part of the plan into operation, Gray bound and gagged his lover, hoping to deceive the police. But the police found Gray’s details in Ruth’s diary and arrested him. Both confessed, Ruth claiming that Gray had committed the actual murder.
Both were sentenced to death, and so widespread was the account of the trial and its attendant publicity that Ruth received no fewer than a 164 proposals of marriage. However, she had an admirer at much closer quarters than those outside in the free world, for Dummy Dugan, the death-house cook, was madly in love with her. A small-time gangster, he believed her to be innocent, and worshipped her blue eyes and blonde hair.
Although male and females prisoners were kept strictly apart, Dugan watched her from his window as she sat in the women’s exercise yard, and eventually steeled himself to call out to her, to announce how much he loved her.
At first she ignored him but soon was returning his remote kisses. In seventh heaven, Dugan smuggled love-letters to her, hiding them in the sandwiches he made for her, or taping them to the underside of the tray. In one of them he proposed to her; he received her answer later, in a paper napkin, saying how much she would love to have him as her husband.
On the night of 12 January 1928 he prepared her last meal. Excelling himself, the supper started with cream of mushroom soup, followed by slices of succulent roast chicken with mashed potatoes accompanied by olives and celery; the pudding was strawberry shortcake, and the meal ended with coffee.
Earlier that day she had had her hair done and passed the time by playing cards with the matron. Now, at one minute past eleven at night, wearing a long khaki tunic over a black skirt, she calmly allowed herself to be escorted by the warden, Lewis E. Lawes, and the female guards to the death chamber. Her calmness contrasted with that of the matron who, detailed to stand in front of her prisoner to shield her from the gaze of the many male spectators once she had been strapped into the chair, was overcome with emotion and had to be helped from the room.
While 3,000 people packed the streets surrounding the prison, the proceedings in the death chamber ran their course. The executioner, Robert Elliott, slipped the headpiece over the condemned woman’s head, while his assistant attached the other electrode to her bare calf, her black cotton stocking having previously been rolled down in readiness. The signal was given, the switch was operated. And two minutes later Ruth Snyder was dead.
Four minutes later her paramour, Judd Gray, was led in, to be strapped in the same chair; the current surged through his body and after three minutes his body too went limp in the straps as life departed.