I must admit that I was rather astonished at the matter-of-fact and yet complacent way in which Marwood described the execution, and modestly referred to his own dexterity; but I was anxious to know by what method he had obtained such success as an executioner, and endeavoured to glean from him the mysteries of his art.
The explanation is explicit, but rather embarrassing. The old system on which Calcraft rested his faith was, he told me, the system of strangulation, which frequently resulted in great suffering, especially when the short drop did not kill the man, and the executioner had to pull at his legs until the miserable being was lifeless.
“But my process is humane,” says Marwood, “for it entails no suffering whatever. My principles are rapidity and dislocation.
“When the neck is dislocated the man does not suffer at all—at least, that is my opinion. I have no doubt that if you examined Peace you would find the spinal cord severed. It is done in this way. I attach the rope to the cross-bar; the noose at the opposite end is formed by a brass ring woven in the rope, and this is placed on the left side of the neck towards the chin.”
Anxious to give me a correct idea of his process, he placed his finger on my own neck to signify the exact locality, and I began to grow nervous, and to wonder whether I had committed some diabolical murder or other, and was about to suffer for my sin. I suddenly became very wise as to the adjustment of the noose, and told Marwood that I had a very vivid idea of the perfection of the arrangement, with the intention of leading him to speak on some topic not quite so personal, but he said he had made this subject the study of his life, and he continued to point out the merits of the long drop, compared with the short drop, and to speak earnestly of the advantages derived from the alteration.
I am not very easily frightened, but I found this dissertation on the science of hanging oppress me. I had a desire to get outside the house—to get into a freer atmosphere.
I could almost imagine that if I didn’t, and that speedily, I should not escape the long drop myself.
Still there was nothing terrible about Mr. Marwood, as he reclined in his easy chair, and spoke in his soft, pleasant tones of the strange experiences he had gone through.
“I am doing God’s work,” he said, “according to the Divine command, and the law of the British Crown. I do it simply as a matter of duty, and as a Christian, and I think no more of it than I do of chatting to you now.”
Such is the affable man who executed Peace. Conscious that he is doing his duty, the character of the profession he follows has no influence upon him, and he claims to be a benefactor to society.