The Man They Couldn't Hang.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVI, Issue 272, 21 November 1904, Page 2

The Man They Couldn't Hang.

The news that John Lee—"tho Babacombe murderer"—who is now »n----dergoing a sentence of penal servitude for life, is about to be recused on license recalls un event unique in criminal annuls. In February, .LBBS, Lee was convicted of murdering Miss Keyse, an old lady in whose employ he had been for soniu years. To many it did not appear that the evidence against Lee was at all conclusive, and throughout the trial his bearing was thai of a man confident of beng able to clear himself of the charge. After his conviction he continued to assert his innoccnse right up to the time he was placed on the fatal scaffold and the white cap was drawn over his face. His last words to the clergyman in attendance wore "I ain quite innocent."

Then commenced for Lee perhaps the most horrible ordeal a man could experience. A few minutes before hud been brought to the scalTold Berry, the executioner, had tried the drop, and it worked perfectly. ilut when Lee was placed upon the trup and the lever was 1 dtaw n the trap refused to move. A second pull at the lever gave no 'better result, u .i»d when Merry and his assistant jumped upon the boards they still refused to move. So, with the fatal noose still round his neck, Lee \viu» marched away, and Berry and his helpmate set to work to discoverthe cause, of the failure of the drop to act. Tiiej' could find notiliing the matter, and when the lever was pulled again the traps acted satisa'aKtorily. Once more U'o was placed on tiho scaffold, once again- Berry jerked the lever over, but to the -horror of all present the trap again refused to move. Hangman, warders, priest, and all present were by ihis time sick with horror, but it was decided jonco more to try to obey the mandate of the judge to hang John Lee by the neck till he was dead. Tho hapless prisoner was taken back to his cell, and Berry once more closely examined the scaffold. As the weather was damp it occurred to him that the ndges of the trap might be a trifle swollen, so a saw 1 was run all round them to make sure. Then, the trup having been tried several times with satisfactory results, ke was placed on the scaflold lor the third time, and the service for the burial of the dead recited again. But the trap would not move an inch. Kerry and his assistant were now on the verge of collapsing, the attendant cleric was shaken as with ague, the laces of Ihe warders were ashenrhued, and the governor of the prison and the under-sherill , were in a pitiable I plight. A hurried consultation took i place between them, and John Leu was immediately relieved of the white cap and noose and taken back to his cell. His face was drawn and baggard, but he was by far the most composed of all present, in spite of the hideous ordeal he bnd undergone during the twenty minutes preceding his linal removal from the scalTold. The under-sherill' hurried to London, and there laid the laets belore the Ifome Secretary, who at once commuted the death' penalty to one of penal servitude for life, und'Tor the past twenty .veal's Lee has laboured in Portland Prison, hoping against hope Unit his innocence would one day be established. But the verdict of the jury still stands, though a great many people who took a , very keen interest in Lee's trial are convinced that his was not the hand that slew Miss Ke.vse.

There was by tho way a strong love interest in the case. Ijec had a sweetheart, a. buxom lassie named Kate Farmer, one of whose letters to him was read at tho trial. She wrote

"If it was your lot to crack stones in the street, and you will still take me to be your wife I will not say no. . . I shall never be tired of waiting for you Jack. .

Perhaps if I -had loved you less you would have loved mo more." It is not known whether Lee's sweetheart is still alive, and even if she is it seems scarcely possible that she has not "tired of waitingV for the lover of her youth, whose miraculous escapo from the abyss of death is now being retold after a lapse of twenty years.—London Telegraph.