Female Executions: Martyrs, Murderesses and Madwomen

by Abbott, Geoffrey

  Graham, Barbara (USA)

  Doomed to an unhappy life from the very beginning, Barbara Graham’s end was equally tragic. Born in 1923, she was brought up by neighbours when her mother was imprisoned. She ran away and when caught, was held in the same reformatory as was her mother. After release she was repeatedly arrested on minor charges such as luring passers–by into gambling dens, vagrancy and prostitution, and was introduced to drugs by her fourth husband Henry Graham. Going morally downhill fast, in March 1953 she joined three criminals in a planned robbery on the residence of an elderly widow, Mrs Mabel Monahan, in Burbank, California, and during the raid she repeatedly struck the woman with the gun she carried in an attempt to find out where her victim’s jewels were hidden. She was later caught and arrested on a charge of murder, the widow having died in hospital.

  In order to make her incriminate herself, an undercover agent offered to provide her with an alibi for the night of the robbery; she accepted, and in doing so, demolished whatever defence she might have brought in court. As if that weren’t sufficient to bring about her ultimate downfall, one of her criminal confederates, in order to be granted immunity, threw all the blame for the killing on her.

  Because of her relative youth – she was only 32 – and her wretched upbringing, much of the media and the public supported her claim that she was innocent. In San Quentin’s condemned cell she wrote poetry and listened to classical music, while outside petitions were raised and appeals held. But all to no avail, for on 3 June 1955 she rose and breakfasted. Replenishing her bright red lipstick, at 10 a.m. she prepared to be taken to the gas chamber – when news came that because her lawyer was still making efforts on her behalf before the State Supreme Court, the execution was postponed.

  Filled with hope, though doubtless tinged with apprehension, Barbara was returned to her cell – only to be informed 45 minutes later that her lawyer’s request had been rejected. Again the warders started the regulation procedure preparatory to leading her to the gas chamber, and just as they were securing the pad of the stethoscope over her heart that would signify when the gas had done its work, she was told that a further delay had been granted so that a new petition could be considered. What state her mind must have been in at this stage can only be imagined.

  ‘Why do they torture me?’ she exclaimed piteously. ‘I was ready at ten o’clock.’ And it was not until 11.30 a.m., all pleas having failed, that Barbara entered the sinister green-painted room where the chair, with the ominous-looking receptacle positioned beneath it, waited.

  Rather than have to meet the eyes of the many official witnesses seated on the other side of the large glass window, Barbara had requested that she be blindfolded; gently guided to the chair, straps were then secured around her body, arms and legs. The rubber tube extending from outside the chamber was connected to the stethoscope positioned over her heart, and the warders left the chamber. The valves of the mixing bowls were opened to allow sulphuric acid and distilled water to flow into the receptacle by the chair; the cyanide eggs were released, their immersion in the acid allowing the toxic gases to rise; and Barbara died.

  With head bowed, her body, slumped against the restraining straps, was left there for a further two hours after the doctor had confirmed that he could hear no further heartbeats.

  Although many American newspapers sided with Barbara Graham, others denigrated her, variously describing her as a ‘rat’ and a ‘rattlesnake’ who ‘took her last walk as if going on a shopping trip, clad in a skin-tight dress and wearing jangling, dangling earrings’.

  Grese, Irma (Germany)

  Although born in the same year as Barbara Graham, 1923, Irma Grese was of a totally different calibre. Brutal, ruthless and sadistic, she became a supervisor in the Ravenbruck, Auschwitz and Belsen concentration camps during the Second World War, a post which gave her the opportunity to punish without reason or restraint, any of the thousands of men and women who were incarcerated therein. Well-built and muscular, she gloried in donning the essentially masculine Nazi SS uniform and high boots, a pistol at her waist and whip in hand. Barbara Graham might have been called a rattlesnake – Irma Grese was given the unenviable title of the ‘Beast of Belsen’, one in which she undoubtedly gloried. Any excuse – or often none at all – was sufficient to allow her to terrorise the inmates with her two half-starved Alsatian dogs, never hesitating to let them off the lead.

  When the prisoners were eventually liberated in 1945, appalling stories of her innate cruelty were related; accounts of her sadistic taunting of those about to be marched to the gas chambers, the chimneys of which belched smoke continually; of shooting prisoners for even looking at her; of obtaining the skins of dead prisoners to use as lampshades ‘because human skin was tough and durable, but let the light through perfectly’ one army journalist reported her as saying.

  After capture she maintained her cold, inhuman attitude. As far as she was concerned, the prisoners were little more than animals, far inferior to the pure-blooded members of the Third Reich, the chosen race. She admitted without a hint of remorse that she maltreated them, and listened unmoved as the death sentence was passed on her.

  On 13 December 1945 she was brought out of her prison cell in Hamelin, a small, medieval town nestling on the banks of the River Weser. Even with death so near, she retained her almost robotic disinterest as Albert Pierrepoint, the English hangman who had been given the task of executing many of the Nazi war criminals, approached her. Any qualms he might have had about hanging a young (she was only 21) and outwardly attractive woman must have been quickly dispelled by the knowledge that she had used her authority to slaughter at least thirty inmates a day. He dropped the noose over her head. ‘Schnell!’ (‘Do it quickly’) she exclaimed. He did.

  At the height of the French Revolution the scores of headless corpses were carted away to cemeteries where they were stripped and flung into deep pits. During this operation, wood fires were kept burning and thyme, sage and juniper were thrown on to the flames to mask the appalling stench of decomposing flesh that permeated the air. Worse was reported by the historian Montgaillard, who described how ‘at Meudon there was a Tannery of Human Skins for such of the Guillotined as seemed worth flaying, of which perfectly good wash-leather was made for breeches and other uses. The skins of men were superior in toughness and quality to shamoy [chamois]; that of women was good for almost nothing, being so soft in texture.’

  Gurdemaine, Margery (England)

  It all started when a certain highly ambitious lady named Elianor Cobham, daughter of Reginald Cobham, Lord of Stirbridge, listened intently to Roger Bolingbroke, the renowned mathematician and astronomer of the day who, after studying the stars, forecast that Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, the youngest son of Henry IV, Great Chamberlain of England, would eventually become King. This, she decided, was an opportunity like none other; she had to get closely acquainted, very closely acquainted with Humphrey, despite his being married to Jacqueline of Hainault, and so prepare herself to become Queen of England. Accordingly she contacted a London witch, Margery Gurdemaine, who, after concocting a mixture of various secret ingredients known only to the trade, supplied her with a variety of aphrodisiacs. Elianor managed to have these administered to Humphrey, and so potent were their properties that he succumbed to her charms and made her his mistress.

  How well they got on together – or how sustained the supply of the love philtres became – is evidenced by the fact that in 1428 ‘Good Duke Humphrey’, as he became known, had his marriage to Jacqueline annulled, and forthwith married Elianor. She had achieved her first ambition, that of becoming Duchess of Gloucester; now for the Throne itself!

  She went back to discuss with Margery the best means whereby she could actually sit on that imposing piece of regal furniture, in view of the fact that Margaret, Consort of Henry VI, was currently occupying it. The sorceress came up with a sure-fire solution: she would make a waxen image of Henry and insert pins into various parts of the anatomy, thereby
bringing certain death.

  The weeks became months, then years, Elianor having to put up with being merely a Duchess. And then in 1441 disaster struck: Roger Bolinbrooke, together with Thomas Southwell, a canon of St Stephen’s Chapel at Westminster, and others were arrested on treasonable charges. During interrogation the astronomer accused Elianor of dabbling in witchcraft and, despite her husband’s efforts to intercede on her behalf, she too was punished for being ‘hurtful to the King’s person’.

  Because of her quasi-royal position in society, instead of being executed she was ordered to pay penance, it being described by the historian John Stow:

  She came from Westminster by water and landed at Temple Bridge, from whence with a taper of waxe [weighing] 2 pound in her hand she went through Fleet streete, hoodless, saue for a Kerchefe, to Pauls, where she offered her taper at the High Altar. On the Wednesday next she landed at the Swan in Thamis streete, and then went through Bridge streete, Gracechurch streete, to Leaden Hall, and so to Christ church by Aldegate. On Friday she landed at Queene Hiue, and so went through Cheape [Cheapside] to Saynt Michaels in Corne hill, in forme said [clad as before]; to all which time the Maior, Sherifes and Crafts of London receiued her.

  This being done she was committed to the ward [guardianship] of Sir Thomas Stanley, wherein she remained during her life in the castle of Chester, hauing yerely 100 markes for her finding [upkeep]. In 22 of Henry sixt [1444] she was remoued to Kenilworth to be safely kept, a woman whose pride, false couetise [coveteousness] and lechery, were cause of her confusion.

  She remained incarcerated there until her death in about 1446.

  It was all right for her, relatively speaking, but what of the others? Of those imprisoned in the Tower of London in 1441, Thomas Southwell died in his cell, but Roger Bolinbrooke was carried from the Tower to Tyburn to be hanged, drawn and quartered. Roger’s head was displayed on London Bridge, his quarters being sent to be exhibited on the city gates of Hereford, Oxford, York and Cambridge. Ironically, Henry VI, whose continued existence thwarted Elianor’s ambitious plans, was murdered in the Tower of London – but not until 1461!

  As for Margery; alas, on scouring ancient records, it was found that:

  There was taken also Margery Gurdemaine, a Witch of Eye besides Westminster, whose sorcerie and witchcrafte the said Elianor hadde long time vsed, and by her medicines and drinkes, enforced the Duke of Gloster to loue her, and after to wedde her, wherefore, and for cause of relapse, the same Witch was brent [burned at the stake] in Smithfield, on the twentie-seaven day of October 1444.

  Voicing one’s opinions in public could bring the magistrate’s wrath down on one’s head, but Ann Walker forgot this when, on meeting Andrew Shaw, who had recently brought a prosecution against her father, she called him a cuckoo. And so, on 4 October 1614, she found herself in court in Wakefield, Yorkshire, to hear judgement passed ‘that the Constable of Wakefield shall cause ye said Ann Walker, for her impudent and bold behaviour, to be runge through ye town of Wakefield with basins before her [these being struck to attract everyone’s attention] as is accustomed for common scoldes.’

  H

  Hahn, Anna (USA)

  Many people believe that the number thirteen is unlucky; it certainly was for the thirteen people murdered by Anna Hahn. Being of German descent, she concentrated on befriending German men, usually elderly ones, writing their cheques out for them – and also ‘helpfully’ signing them. Eventually she would add a little toxic flavouring to the meals she cooked for them, thereby acquiring their money and valuables.

  So George Gsellmann, Albert Palmer, George Oberndoefer, Jacob Wagner and others all involuntarily helped to pay her gambling debts and embellish her lifestyle. Nor were men the only ones to sample the food she prepared. Ollie Koehler and Julia Kresckay also died of acute poisoning. So much evidence mounted against her that in late 1937 she was arrested and imprisoned in Hamilton County Gaol. Confident of convincing the courts of her innocence, she invited journalists into her cell one morning, one reporter describing her immaculate appearance, her hair carefully brushed, her fingernails polished, her attitude almost carefree as she exclaimed that this surely was the weirdest breakfast chat she had ever had.

  Searches in the homes of the various victims revealed bottles of poison and stolen belongings, this being testified at her trial which opened on 11 October 1938. Much attention was paid to her appearance by the press; fashion editors dwelling on her brown crêpe dress, the shade of her lipstick, her stylishly long skirt. Eventually the jury retired and needed less than three hours to reach a decision – guilty, with no recommendation for mercy.

  So assured was she that she would be found innocent, that before the trial she had packed her belongings ready to take home; now, her complacency shattered, she broke down in her cell and sobbed uncontrollably, her hair awry, her voice breaking with the shock of the judgement.

  Prior to execution day, one of her pyjama legs had been slit to permit the attachment of one of the electrodes. On the morning of the day itself, another warder cut away some of the hair on the back of her neck to accommodate the other electrode. As the time approached she was so near to collapse that she had to be supported as she was led to the execution chamber. There, Anna collapsed completely. Her escort managed to prevent her from falling to the floor, and as quickly as possible placed her in the electric chair, stopping her from slumping forwards while the guards strapped her into it. Momentarily recovering, she cried, ‘Don’t do that to me!’ but the prison warden, sympathetic despite the appalling crimes she had committed, replied, ‘I’m sorry, but we can’t help it.’

  As the black mask was placed over her face she felt her hand held by the priest; although doubtless longing to have his comforting grasp until the very last moment, nevertheless she realised the risk: ‘Be careful, Father, you’ll be killed!’ she exclaimed.

  As he moved away, the warden gave the signal, and she jerked against the restraining straps as the powerful current surged through her body. In accordance with regulations, two doctors monitored her condition using stethoscopes, and within seconds confirmed her death.

  Let it never be said that women are more squeamish than men! If proof were needed, one need look no further than the case described above. Eleven of the jury were women, yet not one of them apparently batted an eyelid when the exhibits were passed round for them to examine, despite them consisting of a jar containing Albert Palmer’s brain, and bottles filled with some of Jacob Wagner’s internal organs!

  Hamilton, Mary (Scotland)

  Also known as Mary Lennox, she was so short of money that she stole £20 from her sister-in-law’s bank by forging her signature. Then, on 7 June 1849, either having been found out or fearing discovery, she poisoned her relative with arsenic.

  On 31 January 1850 she was led from her cell to the gallows, which had been positioned in front of Glasgow’s High Court. There, hangman John Murdoch waited, and on seeing him she pleaded with him to be gentle and not to hurt her. Then nervousness overcame her and she fainted. With one warder each side of her, holding her upright until the last minute, Murdoch, despite being 82 years old and needing a walking stick to climb the scaffold steps, was not too decrepit to operate the drop, and his unconscious victim descended into the pit.

  Prison reformer John Howard visited Berkshire’s County Gaol at Reading in the 1770s, where he found that women prisoners were not only chained together by their wrists but also had heavy irons on their ankles when they were taken to the court house. For clothing they were issued with ‘linsey woolsey gowns and petticoats, flannel petticoats for winter, two dowlas shifts and two pairs of yarn hose.’ Their own clothes were labelled and put away until the quarter assizes, to be worn again when they appeared on trial. When prisoners were discharged, the regulation clothing was washed, mended and purified in an oven for the use of future occupants.

  Harris, Phoebe (England)

  It must have been a macabre sight to the throng, reportedly twenty tho
usand people, massing outside Newgate Gaol on 22 June 1786 when, as so vividly described by the Chelmsford Chronicle:

  Five men and one woman were to be executed, four of the men for robbery, one man for coining and counterfeiting [making a halfpenny with the filings he had scraped off other coins], and the woman for assisting in counterfeiting some shilling pieces. Soon after the men had died, twelve people clambered on to the scaffold and had the hands of the deceased repeatedly rubbed by the hangman on their faces and necks as a supposed cure for the protuberances called wens, or warts.

  About a quarter of an hour afterwards, the woman, Phoebe Harris, was led out of Newgate by two warders. She was a well-made little woman, something more than thirty years of age, of pale complexion, and not disagreeable in features, and she appeared both languid and terrified, and trembled greatly as she advanced towards the stake, where the apparatus for the punishment she was about to experience seemed to strike her mind with horror and consternation to the exclusion of all power of recollectness in preparation for the awful approaching moment.

  The stake had been fixed in the ground about midway between the scaffold and the pump. The stake was about eleven feet high and at the top of it was inserted a curved piece of iron to which the other end of the rope around her neck was tied. The prisoner stood on a low stool which, after the prison Ordinary, the chaplain, had prayed with her for a short while, was taken away, leaving her suspended by the neck, her feet being scarcely more than twelve or thirteen inches from the pavement. Soon after the signs of life had ceased, two cart loads of timber were placed around her and set alight. The flames presently burned through the halter and the victim fell a few inches and was then sustained by an iron chain which had been secured around her waist and affixed to the stake. Some scattered remains of her body were perceptible in the fire at ten o’clock; the fire had not quite burnt out even at twelve.’