The Sun. — 1863-09-21 (London, England)

EXAMINER.—OnIy fifty years ago the spectacle of the execution of a murderer was not thought sufficient, and was followed by the more lasting spectacle of the body dangling in chains from a gibbet. The banks of the Thames were studded with these hideous exhibitions, and there was a whole grove of gibbets at Bugsby's Hole, in the bend between Blackwell and Woolwich Reach, under which parties used to be made to drink tea, the tarred remains swinging over their heads, and the irons creaking a dismal accompaniment. The gibbet was meant to be a sort of scarecrow of crime, but when ample experience proved that it had no terror for the jail birds, but that familiarity with the sight made it their laughing stock, while it struck with disgust or horror the better part of the community, the hateful thing was abolished. In another fifty years public executions will probably have disappeared like the gibbet, which in consistency they should have followed off the stage, both being of the same nature, and best put out of sight. But let it not be supposed that the gibbet was unfriended. It had its advocates who prized it even more than the execution, to which it was supplemental. The effect of the spectacle of execution, they said, is at least transitory, and the numbers who witness it keep up each other's spirits, and find more matter of jest and ribaldry than grave reflection; but the gibbet is a permanent warning, and many a criminal shudders as he sees its hideous burden, or hears its irons at night croaking, raven-like, of an ignominious death. Such eves the theory, but the fact being proved to be quite the other way, and that familiarity, as usual, bred contempt of these exhibitions, they were abolished in spite of the most vehement protests, especially from that learned Recorder of London of whom it was said, that he was never known to shed a tear but once, and that one of disappointment at the reprieve of Macheath in the " Beggar's Opera," when he fondly hoped to see the finale of a hanging. We are sorry to see the Times treating as kindred proposals the abolition of capital punishment and the substitution of private for public execution. We believe the retention of the punishment of death for murder to be necessary, and have often stated our reasons for that belief; but we cannot think any one good object effected by public executions. We see nothingin them but what is objectionable and counter to the purpose. A public execution answers no purpose of example. The example is in the fact, published throughout the realm, that the criminal has suffered, not in the sight of his dying convulsions, witnessed by a few hundreds or thousands, who, when all is over, go away laughing and joking, and with the light reflection, " Well, after all, it is not much to make a fuss about," or " he, died game and plucky." There is, indeed, nothing impressive in a public execution. All the circumstances are mean and vu!gar, and death is deprived of all its dignity. Of all the sensation-mongery it is the lowest. The sight may meke some worse, tend to harden some hearts, bat none can it make better. It serves to collect the worst of every district, and to mix a good deal of levity and morbid curiosity with sheer brutality. Upon the last occasion, the execution of four murderers, a largo proportion of the mob were women, and many of them of the appearance called respectable, that is to say, well dressed. There were excursion trains too, as for a fair, or races, or a prize fight. It was a gala day. There were hampers of provisions, and drinks, and al! jolly doings, to see four wretches make their last struggle. It was well for the public of that choice neighbourhood that four murders had been committed, to give them such a treat in the spectacle of the retribution. A single execution would not have attracted such a concourse.