DEATH BY BOILING

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 219, 16 September 1939, Page 6

DEATH BY BOILING

BOILED to death! In this present humane age, where prisoners and criminals are treated almost as gentlemen, it is hard" to believe that once they suffered such an inhuman and monstrous death, but it is a fact.

In 1531, when King Henry VIII. sat on the throne of the most influential country in the world, an Act was passed for boiling prisoners to death. The reason for this extreme measure was that poisonings were becoming far too frequent and popular as a means of removing an unwanted person.

If John Brown, pantry-hand to the Most High the Lord of the Manor, wished to rid the world of his master's presence, he had only to add a pinch of some mysterious substance purchased from the local apothecary's, and hey, presto! the Lord of the Manor was no more. It was so infinitely easy and so manifestly definite. Even if one dose should only prove partly effective, there was always the certainty as to the fefEcacy of the second.

By -- George Murliss

The culprit who was the real cause ot the statute being passed was Richard Roose, a cook. This unworthy gentleman took a dislike to the Bishop of Rochester, but not only to him, but to the bishop's flock as well. Situated as he was, it w r as child's play to serve up beef flavoured with arsenic in lieu of salt.

What was the result? Not the death of His Lordship of Rochester, but the death of several of his servants in His Lordship's palace in Lambeth Marsh. As well as this, many were suddenly stricken with griping pains, but not so the cook. He alone resisted the ravages of his own cuisine.

Immediately, he was summoned before the Court, underwent his trial, and was sentenced to be boiled to death. Quite often in cases such as this, a man gained exemption from severe punishment by

A Terrible Medieval Punishment

claiming "benefit of clergy"—that is, because of his ecclesiastical connection. In this case, however, it was denied him, and in the gaze of all the public, he was boiled to death in the market square at Smithfield.

Richard Roose, the unhappy cook, was borne to the centre of the town, where he was enclosed in the stocks. In this exposed position he was subject, not only to uncomplimentary epithets and oaths from the mouths of vitriolic women, but to all the filth that boys and men alike could "lay hand to. Decayed vegetables, stones, sods, all helped to make the position of the culprit unbearable. , In the meantime, soldiers had been busy building a lire. The work was not left to them alone. Everyone lent a readv and helping hand. Old" branches, pieces of timber, broken chairs, all helped to make a good pile.

In the midst of all this was set an iron cauldron full of water, and in this cauldron Roose met his ghastly and lingering death.

Great were the shrieks of the vengeful crowd as they danced round the fire with the ferocity of savages. In the same year, a girl, a servingmaid, met iier fate in the same manner, by being boiled to death in the marketplace of King's Lynn. She had been found guilty of placing an unknown ingradient in her mistress' soup. Although she to explain that it was only pepper, she was given no hearing and condemned at her trial.

Continental records also show that this method of punishment was not uncommon in France, Holland and Italv.

There is on record the case of Leon Chappell. a young man living in the city of Lyons. Of an infinitely jealous nature, he hated to see a man more handsome than himself. Whenever he did so, he would lay in wait tor him at a rarely frequented spot, pounce up him and mutilate his oppoaaaefc. wvth & sharp knife.

At first it was thought tint tlKf« assaults were made with robbery as the motive. However, as no valuable* were ever taken, and as the victim was ahrays disfigured in the same way, it was evident that the mysterious attacker was nothing but a madman. For a year the crimes went unsolved until the anger of the populace made it imperative that the criminal be arrested.

At last an old man was arrested — caught, it was said, in the act. It should have been obvious that such an old manwith grey whiskers, wrinkled lac® and weak arms could not have had sufficient strength, but so heated were the people that any arrest seemed like the right one.

The old man, protesting to the last, was rushed, through a parody of a trial, condemned to death and hurried to his doom.

It was not until after his death that his innocence was proclaimed —another young lad was found murdered, with cuts all over his face.

Anger rose afresh, and peopl# demanded the life of the unknown assailant. With renewed vigour, searches were made in every corner of the city 01 Lyons.

At last a clue was found. A nobleman named Leon Chappell was drinking one night in a tavern. So excited did become, that he began bragging about his appearance, and saying that he was the finest-looking gentleman ia France. He went on to say that it he who was cunning enough to deceive everybody.

As in many cases, talk and boasting were his downfall, and before morning he found himself in a cell. His trial was an uproar. Injured relatives of the wrongly-accused man, parents of the many victims, friends mad for revenge, all combined to make the trial a foregone conclusion. The following scene in the market square of Lyons wa-s unparalleled lor ferocity and barbarity. Before the was lit, and before the pot had claimed the victim. Chappell was almost tor o limb from limb.

No doubt, he deserved death, but Eoi one as cruel as he did suffer.

In England, the law did not rem«in m force for long, and it was a blessing when in 1547, in the reign of King Edward it was repealed.