The Road to Oblivion

Nearly a quarter of a century after John Billington despatched the once aspiring executioner Samuel Dougal, who was not deterred by capital punishment from committing murder, Thomas Pierrepoint, who was persuaded to become a hangman by his brother Henry, put the noose around the neck of another who should have been deterred if it worked – a corrupt former police officer.

James Power was hanged in Winson Green Prison in Birmingham in January 1928. The jail overlooked the site of the crime that cost Power his life. While walking by a canal at around 9.45 on July 2^nd 1927 in Hockley, Charles Broomhead and 18-year-old Olive Turner were approached a man claiming to be a police officer.

He told them that he was arresting them for trespass, although other couples were left alone, but then he raised Broomheadʼs suspicions by demanding money to let them off. Broomhead told Turner to run off and tried to give her a head-start, but Power turned and thumped him before chasing the defenceless Turner, whose body was discovered in the canal the following day.

Broomhead came round to see Power abduct Turner. Fortunately for him others had too. Her watch had stopped at 11.41 indicating the time of the attack. Turner had been raped before being thrown unconscious into the canal. Broomhead was an initial suspect, but other witnesses supported his claims that another man had dragged Turner away.

The description fitted Power and he quickly emerged as a suspect to former colleague Detective Sergeant Albert Edwards. Police knew that he had still been masquerading as a police officer – he had previously been a policeman, but was dismissed for corruption. A street identification was arranged and Broomhead confirmed Edwardsʼ suspicions. Other witnesses identified him as well. Power insisted that they had all been mistaken, but Turnerʼs murder was only one of his crimes.

A Disgrace in Uniform

Born in Ireland in 1894, Power emigrated to England. After the police struck for better pay and conditions in 1919 – the last time they went on strike in Britain – Power joined the force in March 1920. Trained officers, some of whom were exemplary, were dismissed over the strike. That had unfortunate repercussions.

It created vacancies that were exploited by people who were not fit to wear the uniform. Power undoubtedly belonged to that category of officer and soon abused his authority. Just over a year after joining the force he failed to complete his beat. Six months later he was punished – his pay was reduced for a year.

It was a comparatively minor offence, but his next was not – it cost him his career and revealed the character flaw that would lead him to destruction. Within six months of being disciplined over his beat offences his conduct towards a servant named Clara Hammersley marked the beginning of the end.

Her employer, Frederick Taylor, insisted on making a complaint, but had the misfortune of making it to Power who promised to pursue the matter, claiming to know who the miscreant was. The incident occurred on December 14th 1922. Just over a week later Power was suspended. His police career was all but over.

On January 10^th 1923 the Joint Standing Committee dismissed him instantly. His career as a police officer was over, but Power was not averse to impersonating an officer, a trait that helped to send him to the gallows.

A Menace

Power had been a menace to the society he had sworn to protect just a few years earlier. The former police officer had been terrorising courting couples on the tow-path: demanding money with menaces from them along with committing more serious offences as well.

A young woman came forward claiming that Power had raped her. His reign of terror relied on his ability to impersonate a police officer, but finally his luck ran out. In December 1927 Power appeared in court in Birmingham, charged with Turnerʼs murder – the lesser offences lay on the file. He was prosecuted by the eminent barrister Norman Birkett KC¹. Power was rapidly convicted of Turnerʼs murder after a two-day trial. He was sentenced to death by Mr Justice Swift.

Powerʼs appeal failed and the 32-year-old former police officer was hanged by Thomas Pierrepoint, assisted by Robert Wilson on January 31^st 1928. He was the first former police officer to be executed in Britain in the twentieth century. If capital punishment could not prevent a former police officer from committing murder, despite knowing what the penalty was and that a shameful death on the gallows (in his case) was the likely result, can the death penalty really be the ultimate deterrent?

The Toll on the Executioner

Nothing deters like capital punishment, right? A comfortable notion that needed to be investigated, so I did. If it works then surely people close to the system would be deterred, especially executioners and would-be hangmen. So were they? Months after his resignation as Chief Executioner John Ellis, tried to commit suicide in 1924 – then a criminal offence – after a bout of drinking.

Ellis promised not only to curb his drinking, but never to attempt suicide again, but Ellis died by his own hand eight years later. He threatened to kill his wife and daughter with a cut-throat razor. They fled before the former executioner who had participated in over two-hundred executions turned the razor on himself in September 1932. Had he succeeded in killing his wife and daughter rather than himself, he would probably have faced execution at the hands of his bitter rival Tom Pierrepoint.

The Applicant

Ellis escaped the gallows, but one would-be executioner was not so fortunate. In previous centuries some executioners had committed worse crimes than the people they were hanging and at least two ended their lives on the gallows.

As the twentieth century approached villainy was no longer a recommendation, but one criminal had aspirations of a career on the other side of the rope. Samuel Dougal applied to become a hangman in the 1890s. He was rejected as unsuitable. Nevertheless, he plainly knew the consequences for murder.

While France celebrated the 114^th anniversary of the storming of the Bastille, Dougal finally got his own tour of the execution chamber, but from the wrong side. He was there to be hanged by William Billington, assisted by Ellis, although an over-enthusiastic prison chaplain delayed it by thrice demanding to know if Dougal was guilty or not. After refusing to answer twice Dougal confirmed his guilt from beneath the hood and the lever was pulled. The chaplainʼs behaviour infuriated Billington.

The Road to the Gallows:

He was the only applicant to become a hangman to go to the gallows in the twentieth century in Britain. In 1885 Dougal buried two wives who had died in mysterious circumstances in Canada. Seven years later he married again in Dublin – the most fortunate of his partners. Falling on hard times he saw the inside of a prison cell for forgery. Sarah White left him soon after his release and Dougal set his sights on the wealthy Camille Holland, or rather her money and property.

They moved in together and Dougalʼs roving eye settled on servant Florence Havis. His attempt to molest her was thwarted by Holland on May 16^th 1899. Three days later Holland went missing. Dougal soon moved his wife in and enjoyed access to Hollandʼs bank account. He had a succession of girlfriends, but seemed to have a charmed existence.

Eventually the police investigated Hollandʼs disappearance – forged cheques proved the beginning of the end. He was arrested on March 18^th 1903 at a bank in possession of bank notes with serial numbers the police had informed banks to be alert for. Arrested on a holding charge of forgery his Moat House Farm in Essex was searched and the decomposing body of Camille Holland was finally discovered.

She had been shot in the head with Dougalʼs gun. After a two-day trial Mr Justice Wright donned the black cloth and sentenced the applicant executioner to be hanged. Dougal was hanged in Chelmsford Prison on July 14^th 1903. The ultimate deterrent could not prevent a would-be hangman from committing murder and ending his life on the gallows.