CALCRAFT, THE ENGLISH EXECUTIONER.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LIII, Issue 5952, 24 March 1880, Page 6

CALCRAFT, THE ENGLISH EXECUTIONER.

Tor]: Herald.) Calcraft, the English executioner, who expired a few days since of sheer old age, was a man about whom the outside world was always most curious, but of whom, outside Ms official functions, little or nothing was known save by the select few that had a personal acquaintance.with him. All sorts of ridiculous tales have been told about Calcraft. He was a fiend that hanged people for the mere enjoyment of the brutish pleasure of gloating over their expiring struggles.. He had committed a crime «o unspeakably awful that hie father confessor had enjoined him that no ordinary penance could clean his soul of its. burden and guilt,hence he had undertaken these awful .duties with a view of mentsjly scourging himself. Others again maintained that Calcraft had himself been found guilty of murder,'and pardoned on his undertaking too duties of a common hangman for life. But all this is, df course, mere idle talk. The real facts are that something less than fifty years ago the then Sheriffs of the City of Lorn don found themselves in the unpleasant position of being left, without a hangman to officiate at Newgate, through’ the clashing of executions at York and London. Calcraft, a young shoemaker of some twentyfive years of age, on the evening preceding the execution, happened to call at Newgate ■./ith a pair of boots that he had made for one of the warders. The sheriff’s dilemma was at that moment a fruitful source of discussion among the prison officials, and Galcraft at once volunteered to undertake the job. At. this time the common hangman was the especial object of the execrations of the lower orders of society, and the sheriffs were then sitting, in Newgate ruefully discussing the immediate probability of their, being compelled to " do ” the culprits to death on

I, the,following .mornipg., f fhb ..yW®'?,, I maker’s voluntary offer was eagerly .accepted The next morning, in the presence ot i ■ howling, shrieking multitude of deprayei r wretches, Calcraft launched into eternity tpi '* two malefactors whose legal extinction hat t caused such perturbation in the minds Of tui t sheriffs* For p period of close. uppn , fit tj r years; from that ' date, almost eyerj ‘ criminal that was sacrificed on the shrmt • of the offended majesty of the law. mel I his, death .at the hands of Calcraft > For many years after he assumed the position ' of public executioner the position was a luera : < tiveono. Ho received £lO for each execution, ! and a liberal allowance for travelling expenses . when the dire work was performed out o . London,. In addition to this, the ootbeso| ’ the culprit, being part and parcel of the ■ felon’s estate forfeited to the prown, reverted 1 to the hangman as bis ghastly perquisites: i These cast-off, garments, of criminals were ' readily saleable, at high prices, to the. proj ' prietorsof waxwork exhibitions, who pandered ! then, as now, to the morbid sensibilities of,the people. Many a hundred pounds, too, found its way into Caloraft’s pocket when he hupg some plutocratic murderer whose relatives rather than see the coat and boots of their departed kinsman figuring on his waxen effigy in the stately saloon, of Mme. Tussaud, in Baker street, or standing ohoek-by-pwl with the Queen of Sheba and the Man in the .Iron Mask, in the booth of a travelling wax-work exhibition, outbid the speculative, of . these .establishments for the possession of the culprit’s garments. r J Calcraft established a course of etiquette fo be observed in his intercourse with raurdereifs in which he persisted throughout his careef. The governors of the jails .and sheriffs with whom in the prosecution of , his ghastly profession he came in contact, now jand then would attempt to interfere with bis urrangernents, but Calcraft always had his own wav, OS he met all their suggestions and oppositioh with his one _ stereotyped and ever effectual argument— ' ' ’ ... “If you don’t like my way of doing the business, you can hang-the; man yquMplf-”, | It was the hangman’s usual custom to time his arrival in the town where his deadly, week was to be done so,as to get there late on the evening preceding,.the, execution. He would go straight from the depht to the prisop, where,’ if the then"Quyernor; kneyr.hjm.ja waroi. welcome awaited liim.. o v’pr ■ a pipe and a glass of ‘steaming hot gin and watek, with a slice of lemon and a liberal allowande of suoar —for even ■ hangmen have their favourite beverages—-Calcraft would speedily get his “points ■ from his, host for the time being. Was the man morose or cheerful? truculent or easily handled ? repentant or defiant? What was his height,.weight, arjd so on ? Would his relatives be present at the execution? Had he the sympathy of the

townspeople or otherwise ? These were the hangm&rs “ points," haring got. which. he would retire to the bedroom,. which was always prepared for him in ,the( jail, and presumably sank into most' peaceful slumbers, tip betimes, the “ people’s avenger ” would closely inspect the scaffold, see that the bolts and hinges of the , trap worked easily, and fix a rope of the reqmsife length and strength,ia supply of which hq“ invariably carried with him, and then seeking the Governor hajf hour before the time set down for the execution, carrying in , His hand the little black bag containing his arm and leg, straps, he would blurt out: . 1 “Now, Governor, I’ll get you to introduce me to my patient. . . f These interviews were, if possible, more painful to the executioner than to the culprit, for, strange tbbugb it may appear, Calcraft was of a very sensitive nature, and it was tor this reason.that ho could never be induced jto see the man whom he had to operate on until the last moment, and, further, he alwsiys especially enjoined the officials on no account to notify the prisoner of; his arrival until he himself walked , into the call. Once in the presence of the prisoner, until within the last twelve moptbs of his bolding, his hateful office, when his nervous organisation utterly broke down, compelling his retirement, Calc raft was as cool and self-possessed as though he . was putting the finishing touches to the toilette of a bridegroom instead of adjusting the pprapbernalia jof ignominious death. ,In a remarkable degree, too, this son of St Crispin possessed the power of imparting a portion of his phenomenal self-possession,to his hapless charges. Already prepared, , by, a consideration of the “points” he had gathered from the prison, officials, he would complete his diagnosis; of the case by a rapid surveyjof his subject. j If the man was a,brntal ruffian,.unterrified iby his approaching dissolution, Calcraft would address ham something as follows: | “ Good morning ; my name is Caloraft. You have got to be banged for half an - hour,, and I have got to hang you. You are not the first by hundreds that X have turned off, and if you will take it quietly you will suffer| no pain, and really won’t know when you die. j If you mean to he nasty you will find it a rough job all the way through. Now, I want to know whether you are going to behave yourself ?” Brute as he might be, the man almost instantly and invariably cowed before the cold blue eye and dispassionate tones of the common hangman. As recently as 1877, in conversation with the present writer, the ex-hangman said that out of the hundreds of men .be had executed he bad only to call in the assistance of the warders to adjust the straps in;six cases. Yery different was Oaleraft’s manner when he had to deal with a poor wretch, half dead with fright at the approach; of the terrible ceremony in which he was to play the leading part. In these cases.be would request the Governor to introduce him without reference to his calling, and taking the culprit’s hand, would speak words of kindly sympathy and urge him to summon all his fortitude to his aid, as be must shortly expect the arrival of the' hangman. In a way peculiarly; hiS own, be would gradually break to the doomed man the fact mat he was in the presence of his executioner. With this class of criminals he was gentle as a woman, and that the pool creatures appreciated the kind words and gentle : actions, of the aged 'is vouched for by the fact that they almost always, after the rope was adjusted and thoj were about to take their blind leap into eternity, asked'him to shake hands, with them. : In his domestic relations Calcraft was s devoted husband and an;affectionate father, Two unmarried daughters, who, for the fbtn years before bis death, tended their bedridder . father,'and a servant, comprised the hang'

man’s household for the- past twenty years, he having heen a widower about that length of time. The house where he died. No. 2, Toole Place,Poole street, Hoxton, a district of London lying east of the Gity road, between Islington ■ and Shoreditch, was hia own property, as well t as several of the adjacent houses. At' the ) corner of Poole street and the new North I road stands a large public house, called r the Princess Alice. Here, up to some ■ four years since, when age and increasing s infirmities kept him a total prisoner in; the I house, the veteran hangman would walk in ; almost every evening about eight o’clock] and f betaking himself to a semi-private parlour ) reserved 1 by the host for specially-favoured • customers, would sit down to enjoy a game of 5 whist. It was tacitly understood by the I regular habitues of the room that no refer- > enoe to his calling: should ever be made in . Oalcraft’spresence. Now and again, how I overman injudicious comer would allude to I the tabooed subject. When this oceukred, i Calcraft, without comment, would immedi- , ately rise from the table, dud, taking his;hat, ) abruptly leave the room and the house] In > Hoxton he was always spoken of and; cd- ■ dressed as “ Galley,” and it is not too much ; to say that no man residing in this denselypopulated neighbourhood was better thought i of among the labouring classes ithan old “ Galley.” At some period of his life he ■ had acquired the recipe of a nostrum fpr removing the aches and pains with which rheui rustic subjects are afflicted. Of this liniment 1 he always kept a large supply on hand] and . gratuitously distributed it alike among; rich and poor, to all who chose to coll at his house and ask for it. To this house very few hut ) -toe immediato members of his family; were i ever admitted, and fewer still were per- ) mitted to inspect the ghastly array of hempen i cariosities that in a small “ Blue Beard dham- ; her” were neatly labelled and arranged I around the walls. . It has been the hangman’s i custom to preserve a piece of rope os a me-

mouto of each execution hebad conducted,; I and whek he did hap|>te ;to unbend to. a i favoured guest from his habitual taciturnity, he would chatter on by the hour, Paob piece , of labelled rope he handled giving tho name ’ of its victim and date of hie execution, ' affording fresh food for the relation of start* irigincidents. , t On the scaffold Coloraft always appeared in Vault of the darkest blue serge, and these habiliments. were known in. Hoxton as his hanging clothes. He would put them on when leaving his homo to start for the scene of, the execution, and. take them off, Kfitmoi} his return, arid never wore them on occasion. No one over, saw him outside his house .during the three days immpfl#«jf succeeding an execution, and , stolidly as he oomported himself during the progress of thp dread scene ho invariably arrived home suffering from extreme riervousness and great mental prostration. ■ If on a 'fine summer evening the aged hangman, with: downcast eyes, bowed shoulders,, and. his, chin sunk ,on bis breast,, arrayed in' his; hanging clothes, and carrying.- his little. black - bag, was spori looking down Poole street, ; on, his; way- .to his house, his humble neighbours i gathered .on the, sidewalk smoking-; their pipps, and i chatting 1 after, ,thaT day’s , toil, ; Would standiaside, sand,;>pausingi in their conversation, make way for the old man to pass without, so much as bidding him good evening, for it was Well known that on these , occasions he was .a silent [man, and : would -not px- - change a word oven with his most intimate friends* iln appearance,, as the writer knew bim any time during* the last flfteejiyears,. Oaloraftwas a stout,[ powerful, built- man of some five feet eight, with.-a - long snow-white, beard and,whiskers, the -upper lip.only hping cleanly shaven. • He had an unusually -broad -forehead, a coarse, thick nose, and eyes of a .peculiar cold blue: tint j> a mouth -expressing . determination and seqrctiveness in its.tightly compressed, thin. lips, and absence; of curve,, and a full, fleshy .face, utterly, -wanting in colour, pretty accurately describes the general appearance of this remarkable man* ~ , ; In addition, to .the bouse property belonging to him In PqolP-street, Oaloraft owned; oon--siderable"houses arid lands at Phipps’ Bridge,-, a mile and W half west of Mitohen, nine, miles: from London, in the .county of Surrey, andaltogether he ; has probably died worth£2o,ooo. y »V- -* ' - j