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John Lee: the man who wouldn’t hang

For a decade, James Berry, a police constable from Yorkshire, England, created numerous friendships and rivalries. Among his acquaintances was William Marwood, an elderly executioner from the City of London, who enjoyed sharing detailed narratives of the methods he used to hang criminals with Berry.

Upon Marwood’s death in 1883, 32-year-old Berry realized that a career in the police force was not suited for him and chose to leave. Faced with the challenge of finding a new path, he turned to a grim profession; that of a hangman. Armed with the knowledge gleaned from Marwood regarding the gallows, Berry boldly applied for the position vacated by his deceased friend, but was rejected. Undeterred, the former policeman remained committed to his unsettling ambition and was thrilled to receive his first assignment worth 21 guineas – to execute two men at Calton Prison in Edinburgh. This assignment also included a second-class return rail ticket from his hometown of Bradford and funds for accommodation and meals.

The night before he was scheduled to carry out the hanging, James Berry experienced a vivid nightmare regarding his newfound occupation of taking lives. In this disturbing dream, he discovered he could not proceed with the hanging because the gallows’ trapdoor refused to open. This unsettling dream would revisit Berry and disturb his sleep on numerous occasions throughout the years.

The next morning unfolded without a hitch, and the two condemned men were executed successfully. On the night of November 15th, 1884, Miss Emma Whitehead Keyse, a former maid of honor and a friend of Queen Victoria, was found brutally murdered with her oil-drenched clothes set ablaze at a villa known as ‘The Glen’ in Babbacombe, Devon. The cook, Elizabeth Harris, discovered Miss Keyse’s lifeless body in the dining room after awakening in her own smoke-filled quarters. She reported that Miss Keyse had suffered severe head injuries, and her clothes were soaked with lamp oil, evidently ignited by the murderer. Following a statement from the cook, police proceeded to interrogate the deceased woman’s other servant, a 19-year-old footman named John Lee, who was also the half-brother of Elizabeth Harris.

Lee had a reputation for minor theft and was employed by Miss Keyse out of sympathy. Despite having tried to extinguish the flames on the night of the murder and breaking down in tears upon learning of his mistress’s death, he quickly became the primary suspect in the police’s eyes. “I have lost my best friend,” was what a tearful Lee expressed to the village constable, who was the first to arrive on the scene.

However, the police formulated a different narrative, fueled by accumulating circumstantial evidence against the young footman. Lee’s clothing bore blood stains, and an empty can, once containing lamp oil, was discovered in the pantry where Lee had been seen shortly before the fire erupted. Lee attempted to clarify the situation, informing police that the blood on his clothes was his own, as he had injured his hand while breaking a window to allow smoke to escape. Yet, he struggled to explain the presence of the empty can of lamp oil. Consequently, Lee was arrested and charged with murder. During the ensuing trial, the prosecution asserted that only John Lee possessed a motive. Just prior to her violent death, Miss Keyse had halved Lee’s weekly pay of four shillings due to suspicions of theft. Thus, it was implied that Lee had killed her in a fit of anger.

Despite his protests, Lee’s appeals fell on deaf ears. The jury returned a verdict of guilty, and just before the sentence was rendered, Lee declaredair deeply before gripping the lever once more. As he pulled it, a collective gasp echoed from the witnesses. The trap door beneath John Lee finally gave way, and he plunged downwards.

The execution had begun. The crowd witnessed the macabre event with bated breath, and the air was thick with tension. Time seemed to stretch infinitely as anticipation hung heavily, but moments later, Berry’s grim task was completed; death was now upon Lee.

As the process unfolded, whispers flew among the onlookers regarding the strange occurrences of the day. Some speculated that fate was intervening on behalf of the condemned. Others merely shook their heads in disbelief, struggling to grasp the severity of what had just transpired.

Afterward, the officials conferred in hushed tones, debating the incomprehensible flukes that had plagued the execution. Reports of misfortune and chaos echoed in the confines of the prison as they pondered the implications of this unusual event.

In the midst of it all, John Lee’s name became synonymous with the inexplicable as tales of his near-execution spread like wildfire, adding an eerie legend to the pages of history. The ordeal sparked discussions far beyond the prison walls, as communities grappled with the themes of justice, fate, and the supernatural that had unfolded before them that fateful morning.

While some rejoiced in the apparent divine intervention, others were left questioning the reliability of the justice system and the implications of such an ambiguous outcome. As the day drew to a close, the story of John Lee became more than just a recounting of events; it evolved into a narrative filled with moral and existential ponderings that would linger long after the dust had settled.air, and then he pulled the lever with all his strength. The chaplain averted his gaze as the greased bolts moved as anticipated. To his utter disbelief, however, the chaplain noticed that Lee remained standing on the trapdoor that had yet to open. The holy man collapsed, but a warder managed to catch him before he could hit the ground.

A decision was made to dispatch a messenger to London to notify the Home Secretary about the failed execution attempts. While everyone awaited the messenger’s return, Lee was asked if he would like to have a last breakfast, which he later enjoyed a hearty meal. Ironically, the hangman James Berry declined the meal offered to him due to his nerves. Consequently, Lee ended up eating Berry’s meal.

Approximately nine hours later, the messenger returned from London to inform Lee that the Home Secretary had granted him a reprieve. His death sentence had been changed to life imprisonment. However, after serving twenty years, Lee was released. He emerged in 1905 and married a childhood sweetheart who had waited for him patiently. The couple moved to America, and until his death in 1933, John Lee, the man who could not be hanged, insisted he was not a murderer. Whenever people asked him about the three narrow escapes from the rope, Lee would declare that it was not luck or mere mechanical failure that saved him, but rather divine intervention.

By Sasha Dubronitz

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