A gruesome display, but considered one of the most humane forms of execution. The last man in France to be guillotined was executed in 1977.
When one thinks of the French Revolution, one of the enduring images is Madame Guillotine.
Images and popular culture references abound about the tens of thousands of people that felt its blade during the Reign of Terror – – the murdered nuns and priests, as well as aristocrats, the old ladies knitting and laughing at the spectactle – including too, quite ironically, the architect of that descent to madness, Maximillian Robespierre.
To our modern and sometimes revisionist way of thinking, the guillotine, let alone any form of execution, is seen as horrific and barbaric.
In another bit of irony, the guillotine was designed to be a more humane way of despatching of criminals. A pre-dinner conversation with dear hubby (yes, we’re weird like that) had us wracking our brains to find any other form of execution that was as quick, painless and effective as the French method – and we struggled to come up with any.
Hanging, even done well, may cause someone to linger, an executioner’s axe has been known to require more than one whack to do the job, a bullet doesn’t always stop a person instantaneously.
That was also the rationale of Doctor Joseph-Ignace Guillotin, a doctor who advocated for the fairer application of the death penalty and for it to be as humanly administered as possible. His suggestion was ignored for some years until the National Assembly of France revisited it in 1791.
Indeed, the guillotine is not a new device and nor the invention of Guillotin. Similar devices date back in England and Europe since medieval times and went under various names as the sliding axe, the Halifax Gibbet and the Scottish Maiden.
When the National Assembly adopted the idea – mainly because they had a lot of people to execute and quickly – the task to create France’s National Razor fell to Dr Antoine Louis, who hired a German harpsichord maker named Tobias Schmidt to actually construct it from his design.
The prototype built by Mr. Schmidt may or may not have had the characteristic angled blade. The machine was tested on animals and cadavers to insure its reliability. It was first used in the execution of Nicolas Pelletier, a common criminal, on the 25th of April 1792.
Lots of people lost their head of the device, but only some of them literally.
Bicetre Hospital, located just outside the medieval borders of Paris also housed insane men. An upholsterer working there created the straightjacket as an alternative to chaining people to the wall.
Scale versions of the device were given as children’s toys (move over Tickle Me Elmo) and were fashioned for table top entertainments and practical tasks as vegetable and bread slicing.
Developed around the same time, in the same city, for much the same reason was the straitjacket, otherwise known as the chemise-de-force.
Again, popular culture images of manic looking men and woman struggling against the restraints has coloured our perceptions of this contraption. Prior to its development those poor souls who were declared mad or bad were chained in their cells to prevent injury to themsleves and others.
In 1790, a new form of patient restraint was developed by a man named Guilleret, an upholsterer working at the hospital in Bicetre. Its use was advocated by Dr Philippe Pinel, a man with an interest in the discipline we know today as psychiatry.
Its basic design, a jacket with over long sleeves that wrapped and strapped around the body, remains largely unchanged.
Its widespread use didn’t take take place until the end of the 1700s when in 1797 chains were finally removed by the Jean-Baptiste Pussin governor of the Bicetre.
The development of both of these innovations is fascinating and I had to include them in Moonstone Conspiracy even if I had to massage the dates a little. As the Nick Lowe song says: you have to be cruel to be kind.
Below the video is an excerpt from Moonstone Conspiracy.
Excerpt
A period of time passed. Daniel couldn’t say how much. He pulled himself out of his meditative state as he heard the sound of keys being jangled, then inserted into the lock.
He raised himself to his feet and waited for what was to come. Abigail filled his thoughts. In his mind’s eye, he found her face and kissed it. He breathed in deep and instead of the stench of the asylum, he could smell her scent, rose and jasmine, and the warmth of a summer evening they were yet to share.
Two burly men entered, one carrying a rough, heavy canvas shirt with overlong sleeves. Was that the chemise the man called Philippe had mentioned? One of the men grasped Daniel in a tight headlock while the other removed his shackles. Then they quickly manhandled him into the shirt, but in reverse, with the opening at his back.
Dr Philippe Pinel, one of the pioneers of the mental health field, advocated for the use of straitjackets in the late 18th century.
As he resisted the urge to struggle—he knew it would be useless—he realized the too-long sleeves were sewn closed at the ends where they were reinforced with leather and there were leather straps and buckles. The men drew the straps behind his back, causing him to wrap his arms involuntarily around his own chest, and as they buckled them he understood the purpose of the garment.
Released by the men, but constrained by the chemise, Daniel sank to his knees. He shrugged and twisted against the canvas, but it restrained him as effectively as any iron shackles. Daniel spied movement in a dark corner of the cell near the door. The man Philippe stepped forward.
“There, there, my friend, you will find this more comfortable than being chained to a wall, let me assure you. It is for your benefit until we can find the thing that will make you well.”
He turned to one of his orderlies. “Get him a half draught of laudanum. Not too much though, Colonel Roux will want to question him shortly.”
As the man left the room, Philippe turned back to Daniel and looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments.
“Dr. Pinel?” said the remaining orderly, interrupting his cogitations. “You will be wanted in the wards shortly.”