[continued from previous message]

bound her the more tightly when she was suspended. There would be no
slow, gasping, death here. It was the last gift I could give her, save
one. She looked me in the face, tears of gratitude in her eyes, and
whispered "thank you."

I escorted her and the man to the gallows. The crowd was but a dozen;
this is a small town, and it was harvest season, so most were busy. We
mounted the steps, and then I positioned them carefully on the trap.

As Your Majesty knows, the gallows here are mine own invention, created
both for efficency and for pleasure, after long experiment and thought.
In the center of the floor is a double trap, each half swinging to the
outside. The area below the floor, above six feet in height, is entirely enclosed, permitting me to be alone within it. The trap is secured by a
a post which I can remove, when below, with the tug of a rope.

I positioned each of their feet on the center line. Then I quickly
noosed the man and tied the rope to the beam. I took much more care with
the lady, gently slipping the nose over her head, lifting her hair
through it, letting her feel the silk caress rather than scratch her
soft flesh. I knotted it like the other, to allow her to drop knee deep
below the floor. That and the silk should seal her throat in an instant.
By now she was trying to conceal her panting. Finally, I slowly tied the blindfold about her eyes, sealing her off from the world. All
distractions were removed; she was alone with and in her so beautiful body.

I stepped to one side and read the death warrants, the orders to me from
Your Majesty's judges that the two be taken to the customary place of
execution and hanged by the neck until dead. I read as slowly as I could.

I made the mistake of glancing at her while I read, and became too
choked up to continue. She cut a stunning figure there, a slender form
with long legs, securely bound, her neck fastened to the beam, the noose
that would kill her encircling her pale throat. Completely helpless, she trembled, from fear, passion, or both. Her breathing was causing her
beautiful breasts to heave within their cloth confines. The wind lofted
her hair a bit, the red silk contrasted with the paleness of her neck. I finished and stepped forward to take the hangman's prerogative, the kiss
of forgiveness. It was long, slow, and moist, as I gently held her body
against mine.

I went down the steps into the interior of the gallows.

Here I was temporarily in darkness, the only light being that
penetrating between the boards and the gap between the halves of the
trap. Overhead I heard her breathing, panting, a faint moan of pleasure
or groan of terror, I could not tell. I took a grip on the rope and
stepped back out of the way of the trap.

I gave the rope a hearty tug, and the post came away. The traps sprung
to the sides, and as the light flashed through the opening I saw the
legs of the condemned drop suddenly into sight. I stepped over to her.
Her feet hung, toes down, at height of my chest.

I could see that the silk had functioned perfectly. Her head was pitched forward toward me, her hair falling across her breasts. Not a trace of
breath could be heard; the slippery noose had sealed her throat as
perfectly and as gently as could be done. Invisible to the onlookers, I
lifted her dress to her knees and extended my right hand under it, while
my left held one leg.

My hand lightly traced the skin of her thighs as it slowly rose upward.
I may assure Your Majesty that other things were rising upward, too, and
not slowly! I could feel the smoothness of her flesh, the softness of
the down-like hair. As I neared my object I could feel her thighs
moistened with the dew of extraordinary passion, which must have spread
there while she stood awaiting the drop. I parted her lips and placed my fingers within the warm cleft of her womanhood, parting the warm petals
of her flower, and then began to move my fingers back and forth.

She responded to my carress with a jerk of her body. I moved more
rapidly, questing upward toward the soft ridge that marked the center of
her pleasure. When I felt that, I began a gentle massage from side to
side. She jerked again. My hand was now covered in her woman's dew. I
continued with the massage as she began to jerk her hips from side to
side. Only my steadying hand kept her from swaying from one side of the
trap to the other as the jerking of her hips accelerated. I could see
her belly jerking as well, its muscles twitching in tune to her rising pleasure.

Then her feet swung back, her hips forward. I felt her thighs clamp my
hand, her muscles tighten. I continued my caress, now with fingers only, pressing her body back as it hung. She held there for some time; I was
too absorbed to tell Your Majesty how long it was, for at the time it
seemed an eternity and a few moments later seemed so brief. Then her
legs lowered and relaxed. They jerked back again, held for a few
moments, and then relaxed and went limp. She had experienced her last
such pleasure. Her legs were beginning to tremble from another force. I
still kept up the caresses, hoping to prolong her joy for as long as was humanly possible, perhaps even make it her last conscious memory of this
life.

Looking up, I could see her breasts above me and, beyond that, her face.
Her breasts were beginning to thrust outward as her lungs fought for
air. Her mouth puckered as she desperately tried to pull in the air of
life, but the noose was strangling that from her lungs.

Suddenly she kicked spasmodically, striking me in the chest. Yes, it was
time to be gone and let her life end. I withdrew my hand, quickly
running it one last time down her thigh in a final caress.

Her jerking quickly went into the throes of death. Her legs kicked back
and forth as she slowly rotated on the silk, and her arms twisted in
their bonds. One shoe and then the other went flying as she fought. It
was as much as I could take to watch her dying slowly, her beautiful
slender form convulsing, as it twisted helplessly. I looked to my hand
and sadly reflected that the women whose passion had moistened it was in
dying in anguish within my view. A few more minutes of agony as the
noose dragged the life out of her body, and it would be done. I mounted
back atop the scaffold to watch the finish.

Her struggles left her swinging back and forth in a wobbling circular
course. On occasion her heels or toes struck the traps as she flailed
about. At least her face had relaxed, telling me that she had by now
slipped into unconsciousness. From here on it was simply the struggles
of a body that felt life being torn away from it. Beyond her, the man
was dying, hard, but to him I gave little thought.

I was startled by cries from the crowd. A horseman was among them, and
they and he were shouting "Pardon" at me. "For who?" I cried back as I
mounted the steps. "Antoinette, the girl. Get her down, and quickly!"

He did not need to coax me! But my gallows were built to string victims
up, not to easily get them down. Seconds counted. I leaned over, grabbed
the silk, and pulled it toward me. Getting as firm a grip as I could, I
slashed it apart. The girl's weight nearly pulled me into the trap, but
I kept my footing and lowered her down until her feet reached the floor
below, then released the silk.

Echewing the stairs, I leaped into the trap opening. I could hear her
beginning to suck air past the knot. I pulled it from about her neck,
and she took a full breath, expelled it, and took another in a terrible
groan. She still lived! I spread a blanket that I had left in there and
placed her upon it.

Then she began to twitch over her entire body. Soon she thrashed about
like a beached fish as the life flowed back into her body. I rolled her
over and cut her bonds to make breathing easier. She continued to fight,
her heels drumming against the floor and her arms pulled up tight, her
clenched hands pressed against her chest, her perfect breasts swelling
with each inhalation. At length her struggles stopped, and her breathing
slowed to normal.

I stood transfixed at her beauty there, knot still about the neck, her initimate regions yet warm and moist with passion.

Her eyes opened, and she asked me "Am I alive? What happened?" I
answered with a deep kiss and our lips melted together. I felt her arms
wrap around me, and then her legs.

May I have the honor, when next at court, of introducing your Celestial
Self to Antionette, Fourth Lady of Vanois?




The end for Miss Lescombat
Posted: 8-Aug-2011 - 1 comment(s) [ Comment ] - 0 trackback(s) [ Trackback ] Based on a true event in 18th century France:

Marie-Catherine Lescombat had spent the night in weeping and
prayer, begging forgiveness. The young hangman had visited the night
before, "so that I will not come as a stranger," as he put it. He bore
word that she would go to the gallows at 10 A.M.. Holding her hands, he
gave her instruction. She should keep her hair as it was, baring his
neck. He would permit her to ride in a carriage rather than be hauled in
his cart. Her family could bring a coffin, so that she could be properly buried, not cast into the paupers' pit. She could wear a veil to shield
her face from the leering crowd.




These were special privileges; being one of the most beautiful ladies of
Paris, and having an 18 year old hangman, had its advantages. She had
shown him a special favor in return; he could forever boast that he was
Mme Lescombat's last lover, the last to nuzzle her jet-black hair or
kiss her pale bosom, or lie between the legs that tomorrow would kick in
agony.



As they lay together afterward, his hand slowly stroking her glowing
form, she summoned up her courage and, in a quivering voice, asked "how
. how long will it take, tomorrow?" He caressed her throat before
replying. "I have no experience with women. Your neck is dainty, not
like that of the men I have hanged. I would imagine it would be quick,
four or five minutes. I will try to make it quick."



She had been haunted by the thought all night. Four or five minutes
without air. Every second would be one of mounting, convulsive agony.
She had seen hangings. How much agony did it take to make a man convulse uncontrollably? And that came on in the first seconds. How much worse
did it get after that? She thought of the men kicking and dancing,
erecting and cumming. how much agony were they experiencing for their
bodies to become so unconstrollable?



Five minutes . three hundred seconds, until the unbearable hunger for
air ended in the blackness of death, and she hung limp like a marionette
after the show was done.



At last she fell asleep. She was startled awake by the sound of a key in
the cell door. Four guards, their faces grim, entered. She was barely
on her feet before two guards grabbed her arms and put them behind her
back. In panic, she began to struggle, but there was no opposing their strength. Another jailer bound her wrists. She had just sense enough to
gasp out, "My veil! Put it over my head. The hangman approves."



Outside, the morning sun was blinding. They bundled her into the
carriage; her hands bound, hoop skirt making her clumsy, she needed
assistance. The guards admired her splendid ankles as they helped her up
the steps.



The horses' hooves rang out as they traveled the cobblestone streets.
She felt the carriage halt, and the cry of gendarmes as they forced a
path through the crowd. Then it began again to move. They must be close
to the gallows. Each breath, once so trivial a thing, was precious now.



At length she saw the gallows through the carriage window. The beam was
twelve feet above the low platform. A ladder rested against it.
Standing on the platform at the top of the steps was the youth to whom
she had made love the night before, wearing the red coat that marked him
as the Lord High Executioner. She began to shiver.



The hangman's assistant opened the carriage door and unfolded its steps.
The guards picked her up and pressed her out, while the assistant held
her arm to keep her from stumbling. Her body shook with dread as she
looked up at the sturdy wooden beam that would hold her aloft, and she envisioned herself hanging from it, swinging like a bell, body in its
dying convulsions. With aid, she walked to the platform. Mounting its
four steps, she nearly fell.



The crowd cheered, then began to protest at her veil. "We want to see
her face" "Her beautiful face!" The hangman gestured for their silence,
but the uproar did not cease. "Let us see it!" "Let us watch her
strangle!" Even "he let the real Marie-Catherine get away, and is
substituting an ordinary wretch!"



Her erstwhile lover put his arm about her shoulders and guided her to
the ladder. He turned her with her back to it, then picked up a rope. He doubled the rope over, put the loose ends through the loop, then put it
over her head. She shivered involuntarily as he whispered "lift up your
chin, Marie-Catherine." She did so and accepted the double noose. He let
it hang down her back as he came before her and lifted the veil to
expose her lips. "The kiss of forgiveness. I pray you will not deny me
that." Their lips remained pressed together for seconds; it was not the victim's usual and reluctant peck. The crowd cheered as the kiss
lingered. They could not see his fingers dally between her breasts. At
length he stopped. "We must get on with it now, dear lady."



He stepped behind her and mounted the ladder. She felt the noose tighten
slowly as he drew her, choking, up the rungs. One at a time, they drew
higher and higher. Her hoop shirt pushed out in front of her legs. Men
in the crowd whistled at the sight of her ankles and even a bit of calf
beneath her petticoats.



Finally they reached the beam, and her hangman lover drew her into his
lap. She could feel him erect at her back as he tied the two ends of the
rope together around the beam. She could feel him shaking, too. He was
new to his role, she was his first female victim. His voice shook as he whispered "I'm so sorry, so sorry, for this. Last night was my first
time. Now I must hang you." "Then I shall be your first women in both
senses," she whispered back, her voice also shaking, "please do it well."



She felt his left leg straighten, no longer holding her in place. Two
shaking hands took their place on her shoulders. She could not see him
looking down at her famous breasts, heaving in fear, as he gathered
courage for what he must do. Through her veil she could see the crowd
far below her, eyes expectant, leering grins on their faces. It would be
the first time they had ever seen a lady of quality dance at the end of
a rope.



Then it happened. His right hand pushed her shoulder forward, and she
pitched off the ladder, spinning to her left. She let out a terrified
cry that stopped as the noose snapped tight. She felt herself swinging, pivoting by the neck as her feet flew ahead, swinging up in a flurry of petticoats. The crowd gasped and cheered as her legs swung back and
forth and she spun, first one way, then the other.



Her neck was brutally wrenched; the knot had slid around to the side,
almost to her chin, tilting her head back. Her neck was being wrung; the
pain was blinding. She tried to inhale; air came, but not enough. She
exhaled it and tried to breath faster and deeper.



Her hangman saw what had happened; the noose had slid into the worst
position for a speedy strangulation. She was still rocking back and
forth, her bound hands beginning to writhe, as her breath came in gasps
and gurgles. As he watched her body began to shake, and her back arched
as she tried better to breathe. Her comely breasts seemed ready to leave
her bodice with each desperate attempt to inhale. Her feet spread and
waved in the air. "So sorry, Marie-Catherine, so sorry." Her hoop skirts
let the crowd see her petticoats and quivering feet. "We already figured
she had pretty legs," one man shouted, "we want to see more!"



The gurgles became more anguished; saliva was filling her mouth. Her
feet were now jerking rapidly, her hands clenched; her fingernails drew
blood from her palms. She struggled to keep her legs from flying about
and giving the crowd what it wanted, but she was losing control.



Her body began to jerk uncontrollably. Then her legs began to churn the
air. A strange sensation seized her as her legs rubbed together and, in
so doing, stroked her most intimate parts. She stiffened for a moment as
the climax hit her, just as it had come to the men she watching hanging.
It felt its force blast down her dancing thighs and warm her convulsing
belly. Her mind floated as if the struggling body were that of someone
else, and for a moment her air hunger passed from her mind.



Her lover did not miss the signs.



Then the air hunger returned. Her entire body exploded in convulsions,
chest heaving, shoulders hunching up and down, legs kicking as fast as
they could move. The crowd was silent as her petticoats were kicked up
and down, exposing her body to the waist. The gasping faded into gurgling.



The hangman realized her death would take a long time, extra minutes
added on by her ability to breathe. It gave the excuse he wanted; now it
would seem like an act of mercy. He grabbed the rope, steadying her
body. Then he carefully towed her convulsing form back onto the ladder.
Her jerking feet could not hold to the rung, so her pulled her up into
his lap, arms wrapped around her. With the noose's grip relaxed, the
breath exploded from her lungs. She was still convulsing when he slipped
his hand over her breast and began lightly stroking it, fingers astride
her nipple. "Relax, Marie-Catherine, relax for a moment."



After a time, her breathing slowed. He felt her nipple stiffen with each stroke. Then her breath began to halt with each inhalation. Her legs
came up slowly. He recognized it from the night before, when she had
wrapped them around him, using them to add force to each thrust.



Prepared by her strangulation, even now noosed, Marie-Catherine felt as
if lightning bolts were descending from her breasts to her moist inner
warmth. Then suddenly it spasmed, sending waves of pleasure sweeping
over her form. Time after time it came, as she sighed and moaned, until
she went limp, exhausted. Her hangman, his manhood pressed against her squirming back, exploded as well, clutching her convulsively as he came.



Some in the crowd guessed what had happened and applauded. It was not
every day they saw one of the most beautiful women in the city climax on
the gallows - or at least, knew it for certain.



They relaxed together for a moment. Then, whispered in her ear, she
heard "it is time, my love." Again his hands turned her into the air.
This time he kept a hand on the knot as he launched her. Again she swung
back and forth, limp legs swinging high as the crowd roared its
approval. Beneath her veil, she saw the world rotate as the noose
compressed her throat, driving her tongue up until it sealed her
windpipe. She tried for a breath, and none came, only a tiny squeak. As
she spun she could see the ladder and her lover's feet. She wobbled as
she tried to drive her feet toward the ladder, but she only bumped its side.



Her air hunger worsened by the second. She worked her bound hands around
to her side, but they could get nowhere near the rope. The double noose
held her in its firm hempen grip. She felt hands and feet jerking as she
fought for air that did not come. Her lungs began to burn as her chest
heaved helplessly.



Then her arms and legs convulsed, Her arms clenched up, trapped by their
ropes. But her legs were free, and they kicked wildly. Someone in the
crowd shouted, "At last we saw it - the cutest one in France!" Another answered, "and the most moist one as well!"



Airless agony worsened by the second. Her body was buckling under its
impetus, her entire torso doubling up, knees to her breast, letting the
crowd see everything. Then the kicking returned. Her hangman lover
reached over to stroke her neck. "Let it go, Marie, let it go."



Still she fought, convulsing in her dying agonies. Her bladder released,
and her flailing toes sprinkled the crowd with her last gallows' dew.
The end was near. She had been four minutes without air, and her muscles
were burning from its lack. Her mind was wracked with asphyxia's agony
as her body stiffened.



Her hangman lover saw the time was ripe. With both hands on the beam he
lifted himself up, then carefully placed both feet upon her shoulders.
Last night he had gripped them in climax, today he must give her climax
of a different sort. He lowered himself, adding his weight to hers. The
noose drew even tighter.



She felt the weight, and the incredible wrenching of her neck. Her body summoned one last spasm in which every muscle clenched tight. The
stronger muscles overpowered the weaker, and her body bent backward,
until her quivering heels almost reached her shoulders. "Let it go, Marie-Catherine, let it go." The crowd, seeing her long, and now blue,
legs, and knowing that the climax of the hanging was nigh, watched in
silence As she rotated slowly, her chest heaved in her last spasms,
trying desperately to draw in air. The hangman saw the beautiful breasts
he had just caressed bouncing with each convulsive agony.



His victim felt the explosion of a last, agonized, climax, her internal
parts seizing and releasing, her womb pulsing, the pleasure filling her strangled body with its waves. She saw the world rotating, the ladder
she could not reach, the crowd silent and watching. Then her vision
dimmed and her legs descended, jerking at every stage. Her breasts, now
a pale blue, heaved again, weakly, as her unconscious body still tried
to survive. Once more, and then they were still. Her airless ordeal was finished.



She hung limp at the end of the deadly rope, slowly spinning in the
Spring air. She did not feel her lover step off her shoulders, nor see
the crowd as it watched for any additional struggles, and then began to
leave. The party was over.



An hour later, a sniffling hangman lover drew her onto the ladder,
severed the rope, and lowered her down the rungs she had ascended. He
removed the noose, seeing the cruel marks it had made, untied the hands
that had once caressed him, and lifted her into her family's coffin.



History of hanging
Posted: 7-Aug-2011 - 2 comment(s) [ Comment ] - 0 trackback(s) [ Trackback ] Category: Hanging studies
Technical Aspects

The noose. There is a big difference of opinion and custom here.
Americans traditionally used a very elaborate noose, which tends to
"lock up tight." Most other countries have used a simple slip knot (two
half hitches to you Scouts). The British have in the last century gone
to a metal ring fastened onto the rope, in the belief that the American
knot cushions the blow and makes neck fracture less likely. For some
reason, the American noose seems popular in the Mideast.

There does not appear to be much difference as far as slow hanging is concerned. Photographs of real hangings with a slip knot show the knot
does not really tighten much, but rides up on the back of the neck. The
weight on the front of the neck is the real strangler, not the
tightening of the entire noose.

In 15th-16th century France, a different and very elaborate noose was
often used. It required two ropes. The first was doubled over, then the
loose ends passed through the resulting loop. A second one was tied
around the neck between this loop. The second rope was used to tow the
victim around and up the ladder, whereupon the two ends of the other one
were fastened to the beam. After the victim was kicked off the ladder,
the hangman could haul on the other rope to further tighten matters.

Restraints. The purpose of tying the victim is not to prevent escape
from the noose -- no one has enough strength to haul themselves up the
rope hand over hand, and the effect of hanging is usually to make this
effort impossible anyway. The purpose was rather to prevent the victim
from panicking at the last moment and putting up a fight. It was one
thing for the victim to remain composed while in the jail cell, another
to remain composed as they were expected to mount the ladder, or stand
still on the scaffold as the noose was prepared.

Most countries tie the hands in back. The British, until the late 1800s,
tied the hands in front. The reason is unknown--perhaps a custom from
the days when victims were "turned off" a ladder, with it making it hard
to grab the ladder? Sometimes an additional rope was run around the
victim's body at the height of the elbows. This ensured that the victim
could raise his bound hands in prayer, but would have trouble using them
to fight the noose.

Most modern countries today use a leather harness, buckled on the victim
well in advance. At the last minute, the victim's arms are then quickly
buckled to it in front.

Legs were, in the past, sometimes tied as well, sometimes at the knee as
well as the ankle. A law enforcement friend who served as a hangman
after WWII and witnessed several hangings since said this was not so
much to restrain the person as to prevent the loss of bowel control from
making too big a mess. Tying the legs does not, however, appear to have
been done prior to the 1860s.

Hoods. Up until the late 17th century, no hoods were used, and the
public saw the victim's face as they died. After that it became
customary to put a hood, or at least a large blindfold, over the
victim's head. As it made little difference to the victim, it is assumed
that it was meant to make the hanging more acceptable to the onlookers,
who did not see the victim's face contorting. The hoods were short
enough to leave the neck open. In some cases a simple blindfold was used.

The more recent British practice was to use a longer hood and put the
noose over that. The reason given is to prevent rope-burns on the
corpse, although how that improves things is not clear (as we noted
above, the neck is usually stretched visibly anyway in long-drop hangings).

Method. At least in England, this went through several changes.

Hoist. In the earliest, the victim was simply hoisted up. This meant a
lot of work, and required a team of persons. Hoisting a hundred-plus
pounds is not a one-man task, particularly if the rope is just flung
over a beam (there is no mention of pulleys being used in these cases.)
Likely one person lifted the victim up to make it easier for those
pulling on the rope; there are mentions of this being done in improvised British military executions in the early 19th century.

Ladder. Up through the 18th century, a ladder was used. The victim was
made to climb the ladder, facing away from it. They could be pushed onto
the ladder, or beaten (a French custom) or the hangman could mount the
ladder first and use the noose as a leash to drag them up: to breath,
the victim had to follow. The noose was tied to the beam, usually with
only about two feet of rope between beam and noose. Then either the
ladder was turned over ("turning off") or it was kicked down, or the
hangman pushed the victim off the ladder. Sometimes for convenience two
ladders were used, or a double-wide one, so that the hangman had his own
secure footing. In other cases, he would have essentially drawn the
victim into his lap, then tied off the rope and pushed them into the air.

At the execution of Mary Blandy, in 1752, her town had no regular
gallows, so a beam was simply put between two trees near the jail. She
was hanged with her toes only a few feet off the ground for a reason:
"On her ascending the gallows she begged that she might not be hanged
high, "for the sake of decency"; and on her being desired to go a little higher, expressed her fear that she should fall. The rope having been
put round her neck, she pulled her handkerchief over her face, and was
turned off on holding out a book of devotions which she had been
reading." (The report also mentions her being noosed by a woman, who
also helped adjust the blindfold. The sheriff probably felt that, as a
woman of quality, she should be touched by a woman, not an executioner.

Victims had to be hanged one at a time, with the others forced to wait
in line as their predecessors struggled, choked, and slowly died only a
few feet away.

With the ladder, victims were hanged high, on only a short length of
rope. With women victims, this made for a show (beyond a slip-like
garment known as a shift, women wore no undergarments until Victorian
times). Their feet were usually well above their viewer's heads, so as
their legs thrashed the audience got a view of their legs and loin. If
the convulsions included knees snapping up to chest, they would be fully exposed as they hung there dying.

Men had a similar problem. They often erected and ejaculated as they
died (see blog post on medical studies, below), and there was a legend
that the mandrake plant grew from hanged men's semen. Again, clothing
gives an explanation. In the medieval period, male commoners wore a pair
of tights, one for each leg, tied together with laces at the waist.
Since this would have left a man exposed, a sort of breechcloth covered
the loins. A hanging man's erection could easily find its way around the breechcloth, or the breechcloth might come free as he convulsed and fall
away. Either way, the jerking victim would be left spewing his semen
into the air.

Cart. Starting in the late 17th century (and thus overlapping with the
ladder method), the cart was used. It was traditional for the victim to
be driven to the gallows on a cart -- why make them get off the cart and
then climb back up the ladder? This was seen as more humane, since often
the victim grew terrified at the sight of the ladder they must mount,
and had to be forced up it.

In this approach, the hangman simply had the victim stand, usually
facing forward on the cart (often toward a clergyman reading the rites
for the dead). Facing forward ensured that the noose would not slip
around to the front of the neck when the cart departed.

The rope was fastened to the beam (sometimes by an assistant sitting
straddling the beam, if the gallows were too high for the hangman to
reach the beam) and at the right moment the hangman led the horses
forward, pulling the cart away. The noose tightened and dragged the
victim off the cart.

This also had the advantage that several victims could be hanged at
once, and the terror of waiting was reduced. On the other hand, victims
tended to be slowly dragged off the cart, since horses pulling a cart do
not make a "jackrabbit start," and the victims were usually at the
center or at the front of the cart. Reports of the time mention people
crying out or taking other actions as the cart was being pulled away
from under them. In the case of Thomas Carr and Elizabeth Adams (1738)
it was reported:

"They were both remarkably composed for people in their dreadful
situation, and just as the cart began to draw away they kissed each
other, joined hands, and thus were launched into eternity."

And with Sarah Malcolm, a 22 year old hanged in 1733,

"At the place of execution, near Fetter Lane, she behaved with the
utmost devoutness and resignation to the Divine will; but when the
ordinary, in his prayers, recommended her soul to God she fainted, and
with much difficulty recovered her senses. On the cart driving off she
turned towards the Temple, crying out, " Oh, my mistress, my mistress! I
wish I could see her!" and then, casting her eyes towards heaven, called
upon Christ to receive her soul."

With the older high gallows still in wide use, the victim usually wound
up hanging on six or eight feet of rope, with their feet two or three
feet above ground. (Sometimes there were newer gallows, where the beam
was lower). The difference also meant that a helper up on the beam was

[continued in next message]

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