Good evening. I was hoping you’d stop by. Pull up a chair, pour yourself a cuppa and let me tell you about one of the most peculiar cases in British criminal history. It’s a murky tale of murder and an execution that simply refused to happen. The man at the centre of it? John ‘Babbacombe’ Lee, otherwise known as the man they couldn’t hang.
A grisly murder in Babbacombe
Our tale begins in 1884 in Babbacombe, Devon, a quiet seaside village. The peace in Babbacombe was shattered, however, when a housemaid found her employer, Miss Emma Keyse, an old spinster, brutally murdered in her own home. The scene was grim; Keyse’s throat had been slashed and her body set on fire. But who had wanted to harm her?
As you’d expect, the police wasted no time and it wasn’t long before they zeroed in on one person in particular as a suspect: John Lee, a 20-year-old former sailor with a chequered past. He had been in Miss Keyse’s service and, crucially, had been previously imprisoned albeit for theft. A cut on his arm and some damning circumstantial evidence surfaced and with that the authorities decided they had their man.
It didn’t seem to matter that Lee vehemently protested his innocence from the moment he was accused to when he was facing the hangman’s noose. A trial quickly followed and with Lee unable to provide a solid alibi, the verdict was inevitable: the jury found him guilty. The judge wasted little time and Lee was sentenced to death by hanging.
A gallows that refused to work – on a first attempt
Now, here is where the tale turns from the macabre to the truly bizarre. Having been found guilty three months earlier, Lee was set to meet his maker on 23 February 1885. The noose was prepared meticulously taking into consideration Lee’s height, weight and the length of the drop to ensure a swift result and the trapdoor mechanism was checked as always. Everything was in order, or so it seemed. A large crowd formed outside the gates of Exeter Prison, waiting with bated breath to see the black flag raised.
The condemned man was led to the gallows; pale and weak, he climbed the stairs, the noose was put around his neck and a hood placed over his head. When asked if he had any last words, despite protesting his innocence up to this point, Lee seemed to accept his fate and is reported to have told the hangman to “just drop away”. The executioner, James Berry, pulled the lever; nothing happened.
Despite moving a couple of inches the trapdoor remained shut. Anxious glances were exchanged and total panic ensued. Prison officers were instructed to stamp on the trapdoor and yet it would not budge. Lee was moved to one side, Berry checked the mechanism and the trapdoor swung open.
Two more attempts to hang Lee also failed
A second attempt was made which proved even less of a success than the first when the lever handle bent. By now officials were at a total loss. Carpenters were called and after more tests, the mechanism yet again proved to be in full working order. With Lee standing back on the spot, a third attempt was made and still the trapdoor refused to open.
Three times they tried to hang him; three times the gallows failed. The medical officer refused to participate any further and the watching officials, including the prison governor, decided enough was enough. Lee had survived his own execution but questions remained: was it by mechanism failure or divine intervention? Sir William Harcourt, then Home Secretary, took this as a sign that the young man was not meant to die and commuted his sentence to life imprisonment.
Was John Lee guilty?
Now, my learned friend, this is where we must put on our detective hats. Was John Lee truly guilty of murder or was he a convenient scapegoat? Was he the victim of circumstance and bad luck that allowed the police to be sure of a quick conviction?
The evidence against Lee was, at best, circumstantial and, at worst, it was convenient. He had a prior conviction for theft and was also reported to have expressed resentment towards Miss Keyse. The prosecution eagerly seized on this and presented it as motive. But did he actually kill her? No one saw him commit the crime. No murder weapon was conclusively linked to him. And let’s not forget, he always maintained his innocence.
One alternative theory suggests that Lee’s half-sister’s lover, a man named William Richards, may have been the real killer. Richards had a criminal past and a violent streak, but he curiously avoided suspicion. Reports at the time indicate that some of Lee’s statements were inconsistent, but inconsistencies do not necessarily prove guilt. Did the prosecution truly prove Lee’s guilt beyond reasonable doubt? One has to wonder if the rush to find a culprit led to a grave miscarriage of justice.
Lee’s life after prison remains an enigma
With his sentence reduced to life imprisonment, Lee served his time in various prisons. He eventually gained his freedom in 1907 after over 20 years behind bars. One would think that surviving an execution would grant a man some peace, but exactly how Lee spent the rest of his life remains a mystery.
Some say he moved to America, others claim he lived out his days quietly in England under an assumed name. Some accounts suggested Lee never managed to shake off the label of being the man they couldn’t hang and tried to capitalise on this by telling his story. He was even thought to have become the subject of a silent film about his life, but others say he faded into obscurity. Very little is known about what happened to him and we can only speculate as to where he ended up. His final resting place also remains a mystery, adding to his already unbelievable story.
His later years may have been obscure, but one thing is certain: John ‘Babbacombe’ Lee escaped the hangman’s noose. The explanation for what happened still defies us today.
The Babbacombe legend lives on
The tale of John Lee has been told and retold, turned into books, plays, an album, even films. But after all these years, it remains an enigma. And the enigma is still pulling crowds. We may never know the full truth of what happened on that night in Babbacombe or why the gallows failed.
Perhaps his story serves as an example of the fallibility of justice. Perhaps it is a testament to fate’s unpredictability. Either way, it captures our imagination and remains one of the most extraordinary cases in British legal history.
And that, my friend, is a tale worth telling. Now then, what do you say to one more cuppa for the road?
