Sunday, 6th May, 1838

What is wrong with this town that nothing can possibly happen without some damned fool of a jackanapes turning it into a circus? Can we do nothing without it descending into the sort of farce that would be jeered from the stage in the lowest theatre in London?

On Wednesday last it was time for Michael Magee to meet the awful eternal judgement that awaited him in the life to come.

During the past week I have heard many a Colonist tell me that the sentence of death might have been the law, but it was too severe for the nature of the crime. "He took a shot at Sam Smart and missed, Governor. Why should he die for that?" A fair question and one I could not really answer with anything other than "The law must be seen to be done."

It being a Wednesday a crowd of people who had, it seems, nothing better to do had made their way to the execution spot, just down from Strangways Terrace, on the side of the hill by the River. I did not attend, but plenty of witnesses have informed me of what transpired. There are - what? - four or five thousand people in the township and there must have been at least a thousand of them there. Men and women, families, all of them with blankets to sit on and baskets of food, all of them there to see the show. And about nine hundred and ninety-five of them have waylaid me in the streets since to give me the benefit of their opinion regarding the matter.

Naturally the question at the forefront of all 1000 minds was the same. "Who would be the hangman?" No-one had heard if anyone had put their hand up for the £10 on offer and many thought that there was ever the possibility that the whole thing was for naught and they would all go home at the end of the day with no hanging and Magee's sentence commuted. The suggestion also circulated that Bushranger Morgan would be called on to do the deed as a condition of his own death sentence being commuted. The only thing everyone seemed to agree on was that it would be in the poorest taste for Sam Smart to act as hangman. I heard the phrase "conflict of interest" bandied about freely.

Well, at around nine o'clock all was clear, as a procession was seen coming through the trees towards the hanging location. At the head, our 10 mounted police rode in double file, sabres drawn. Behind them, freshly sobered up and with uniforms as spotless as could reasonably be hoped for, came the Marines.

Remarkably, they had bayonets fixed, which seemed a risk to all present, but they had complained about the police sabres "and how will it make us look Governor if the police are armed and we're not?" with the result that compassion over-ruled common sense and they were given permission to fix bayonets on the grounds of "sauce for the goose".

Behind them walked Charlie Howard, decked out in full kit and behind him came a wagon, pulled by two of Mr. Fisher's £500 ponies. And in the wagon was Magee, accompanied by as demonic a figure as has ever been seen in this Colony. 

The hangman.

The fellow had clearly decided that anonymity was the watchword for the day and had done all he could to ensure that none could identify him. He wore a black mask, seemingly fashioned from a cotton sack and painted with grotesque markings below the eye holes, suggestive of a nose and grinning mouth. He wore a shirt, belted, and trousers tied around the waist and ankles, both several sizes too big, but stuffed with, I imagine, straw, so that he had the appearance of a hunchback.

When the cart stopped it was seen that this Mr. Punch had been sitting on the coffin packed on board for the disposal of Magee's body, which seemed macabre enough, but even more so was the sight of Magee himself being forced, by lack of space, to sit next to his own executioner, atop his own coffin, which seemed not merely grotesque, but worse, in the poorest of taste.

At this point, as though the scene was not dreary enough, the Reverend came to life with the Service for the Dead. On hearing about ashes and dust and the resurrection, all rose to their feet. Partly from respect and partly to be ready to make a run for it if Howard went on to "make a few remarks". The only one present who seemed to take Charlie seriously was the Catholic Magee, who listened to the Reverend for a time, then fell to his knees in fervent prayer, probably thinking he could do better himself.

Charlie did not get to make any remarks, however, as, to the relief of all, he was interrupted by a clatter and a degree of swearing as Mr. Punch attempted to get down from the cart. It seems that he could not see properly through the holes in the mask and was unable to find how to descend.

Magee's hands had been tied tightly behind him, but in order that he could assist the hangman in the descent from the conveyance, his bonds were loosened to allow him use of his hands.

Magee then stood and addressed the crowd with a surprising degree of eloquence and, the which we are unused to, brevity.

He admitted his guilt and the justice of the sentence, but denied vehemently that he was an escapee and "on the run". He had never, he insisted, been in trouble with the law.

To be asserting this when standing on a scaffold with the expectation of a noose at any moment certainly suggests a degree of boldness of character that can only be admired and it was clear that the assembled crowd found themselves warming to the man.

While this was happening our hangman was clearly having second thoughts, the nature of the deed sinking in. As he greased the rope and swung from the end of it, the hunchback was heard to say "How it haunts me!"

The hanging being scheduled for ten, Sam Smart had set the alarm on his watch to sound, which it now did, as did several others scattered through the crowd. "The bells! The bells!" cried the Hunchback, who lurched toward the prisoner.

Using a ladder against the tree he climbed up onto the cart, Magee offering him a helping hand, and placed a bag over the prisoner's head and then the noose about his neck. 

He then partly climbed and partly fell down the ladder and whipped up the horses.

Mr Skipper's sketch of the Execution

It was at this point that the thing became less "the law must be seen to be done" and more "the law must be seen to be believed".

In an ideal world the horses would have set off at a canter, Magee would have dropped sharply, allowing the noose to snap his neck and all could have gone home knowing that they had enjoyed a grand day out and that all was right with the world.

Instead, Mr. Fisher's small and sickly ponies walked forward so slowly that Magee simply slid gently off the back of the cart and hung there by the neck, still alive.

Mr. Punch, clearly deciding that he had performed all that £10 could buy, jumped onto the back of a nearby horse and high tailed it as fast as he could.

Meanwhile, it became obvious that the buffoon had put the noose on wrongly, meaning that the knot, instead of tightening and killing the prisoner, was positioned under Magee's chin, both supporting the head and digging in to his windpipe.

Then, because Magee's hands had been loosened, he was able to reach up, grab the rope and lift himself up to ease the pressure on his throat. And, being able to breathe, he began to scream out, "Christ have Mercy! Save me someone!" as he slowly twisted in the wind like a joint before the fire.

So distressing was the scene that the crowd began to call out, demanding that something be done. There were cries of "Cut him him down!" and demands of the Marines to render the coup de grace and shoot him.  (I may add that it speaks well of the trusting nature of the people of Adelaide, bless them, that, all evidence to the contrary, they still believe the Marines to be capable of aiming and hitting a moving target.)

FInally someone had the bright idea of bringing back the hangman and one of the Police Troopers set off on horseback, riding like the devil himself. And all the while there came the screams of "Jesus, help me!" from Magee as he pulled himself up by the rope.

Sam Smart came forward and tried to address the crowd, telling them to remain calm, but the people were in no mood for placation and the whole scene threatened to become most ugly.

Then the Hangman was seen being escorted back by the Police Trooper. I say "escorted", but it seemed far more like he was being forced back at sabre point! When he arrived at the gallows he stood back and surveyed the situation for a moment and then, obviously deciding on a course of action, suddenly leapt up at Magee, grabbing at his legs and swinging from them.

 Magee, unable to support the weight of two by holding the rope, was forced to let go and the two men hung there while Magee slowly choked to death. It is said that it took nearly a quarter of an hour for the man to succumb and that during that time, even when all thought he had breathed his last, the body would twitch and low murmers were heard from beneath the sack covering his face.

And all the while Mr Punch hung from Magee's legs, while the angry crowd called out "Murderer!".

Is it worth pointing out that Magee's offence was only "attempted murder"? It seems to me that when the hangman is so incompetent that, in the course of his duties he is accused of a worse crime than the prisoner he is hanging, then we really do need to ask if we chose the right man for the job.

As it was the crowd was so incensed that, when Jack Ketch the Hunchback finally finished using the Prisoner as a Fairground Swing, he only managed to get away from the scene under Police Escort. Then, rendered sombre and dismal by the whole sorry business, the crowd slowly dispersed, few even waiting for Magee's body to be cut down and placed in his coffin. As one witness said to me, "We were there for a nice family outing to the execution. We thought that, in years to come, the children would appreciate being able to say that they had been present at the first public hanging in the Colony. And instead we had to watch barbaric horrors!"

They were quite upset by the whole incident. But not quite as upset, I imagine, as MIchael Magee.