Pang Styit
Pang Styit (Shinasthana: 枋 室; pang styit, also Frederick PS; Nov. 29, 1832 – Jul. 2, 1907) was the final owner of Hing-kem-stang Sweets Store of Kien-k'ang and most famously the last Themiclesian person to be selected as executioner for 34 executions on Dec. 10, 1853.
Much of what is known about Styit's early life comes from several interviews he gave to the International Committee for the Abolition of Capital Punishment between 1899 and 1906. However, as Styit himself conceded, his memory was already encumbered by his advanced age, and not everything can be considered absolutely accurate. The store that he owned, Hing-kem-stang, stayed in the family since 1661 and was a well-known vendor of candies of both domestic and foreign extraction. As a boy, Pang was frequently sent to the docks to spy on the unloading of competitors' wares and report on developing dietary fashions at "large houses" (the houses of the nobility were usually open to outsiders during daytime).
In 1848, his father died of injuries from being trampled by a horse. As a minor, he could not yet legally claim his intestate father's estate, which was therefore placed under the stewardship of his uncle. The records of the Supreme Court of Themiclesia show a brief being filed on Nov. 30, 1851 by the barristers Krum and Pyut to restore his inheritance.
Account of the last execution
In the winter assizes of 1853, held in Kien-k'ang from 7th to the 10th, November 1853, now fully 20 years of age, Styit was presented to the local assessment board and asked to declare if he had any ailments or lawful excuses from service. Styit's formulaic answer on record was that he had not any ailments or lawful excuses from service and would therefore make himself available in the lawful manner. The answer was heard and accepted by the board and reported to the winter assizes; he was therefore ordered to remain at a fixed address within the city "or its vicinities" until his service that year was discharged. This would have been an annual routine for both Themiclesian men and women of the day.
Between Nov. 10 and Nov. 12, a lottery in the Kien-k'ang City was held after the assizes to determine the defrayment of public duties on the assized men of the year. Prior to the reform of the Kien-k'ang Senate in 1856, the city's magistrates met once a year to discuss the city's agenda for the year ahead and to assign resources, whether money or labour, to the various expenses identified. It was during this lottery that Styit's name was drawn for the 34 executions scheduled for the year. Having been drawn, the summons to appear for service was issued to him shortly after.
Being acquainted of this appointment, Styit was counselled by his friends as to what should be done. Some maintained that Styit should quit the city as soon as possible, but Styit felt unable to liquidate his newly-inherited store that he just started tending (which also generated a decent income of about £300 per year). Styit asked if his friends knew what happened to the people selected as executioners in the past, but all the information they were able to gather were profoundly negative—some went insane and had to be committed lunatic asylums, others committed suicide at home, and still others were hounded by their victims' associates or even their ghosts, etc.
But another friend, Mrek, a jurist, maintained that most of negative information is speculative or unwarranted, and by his estimation nothing very bad happened to most executioners. His argument, per Styit, was as follows:
By the law, every city that has scheduled executions in a given year would see one person performing this duty, which would be no fewer than 75 or 80 per year and therefore over 1,500 within the last two decades. Most of the stories we hear about executioner suicide are scattered over decades and even centuries before. But we must remember people go mad or commit suicide for other reasons anyway. So it appears to me, Styit, that most did not go insane or commit suicide, and still fewer can be ascertained to have gone insane or committed suicide over being chosen as executioners. There are many more people who die of the dock-miasma each year, but that did not prevent them from visiting the docks.
Mrek seems to have had a dark sense of humour that Styit remembered well, as he said further:
And if you should be visited upon in your dream by the victims of the day, you should ask the murderers amongst them if they have yet been visited by the ghosts of their victims.
In preparation for the day, some of his friends took it upon themselves to visit other people who have been in this capacity and ask what preparations should be done. But few previous executioners, being informed of the nature of the call, were willing to entertain them. One said that Styit would be best advised to follow what the prison officials say without hesitation, which would only be likely to cause anguish; another offered his sympathy but said there was no useful advice and quickly ejected them; a third said Styit should bring food and drink for himself. Styit therefore reported to Tlang-qrum Prison at dawn time, Dec. 10, according to the terms of the summons, essentially ignorant of what is to happen that day. Other irregulars reported at the same time, such as apothecaries and religious consellors.
Styit was brought to the execution yard by a sergeant, and there on a table lay two lengths of rope. The sergeant said he was required by the law to advise Styit that, if there are any defects with the tools now being lent to him, they should be identified now, as he would be responsible for any that appear when he returns them afterwards. The cost of the ropes were 2d each.
In the 1850s, any person could obtain admission to a prison to see executions, but otherwise they were not done at places where casual viewing was possible. Viewing executions was not popular and was only usually done by implicated persons. But the crowd that turned out at Tlang-qrum Prison on Dec. 10, 1853 was unusually large and diverse and consisted, above families of victims and prisoners, of groups that lamented the abolition of capital punishment and the vociferous abolitionist committees. According to accounts, children were not barred from viewing executions, and Pang later stated that he was able to hear children's jeering.
Even before the executions began, accounts state that exclamations of "shame" and "come on" were heard from the crowd, and from the prison staff there were no efforts to calm the crowd. The layout of the execution yard was such that the crowd could only view from a recess and therefore at a restricted angle, and so Styit was able to to avoid turning to see the crowd, to retain some personal dignity. He recounted that the greatest source of anguish was from the attending public, rather than from the prisoners.
The first prisoner was taken from the waiting area where they were chained to iron stakes and fastened, in a kneeling position and with hands behind their backs, to a shorter iron stake in the ground that only came up to their backs. With a bat and whip in hand, the sergeant bade Styit pick up the rope and walk over to the stake. The prisoner, a young gang leader nicknamed the "Dire Wolf", suddenly turned to glare at Styit and muttered obscenities, causing Pang to back off into the sergeant's batted hand. Styit asked if the sergeant could turn the prisoner's head away, but he said it would be easier if Styit turned his own head away instead. Then Styit inquired if there was a particular way the rope should be applied, to which the sergeant said he may do so any reasonable way, as long as he did not intentionally cause undue pain to the prisoner.
The sergeant said both of them are monitored by the Commission, and anything action beyond the terms of the death warrant will expose him to prosecution. The sergeant then reminded Styit that the Imperial Commissioners were present to witness the execution and that no further delay would be admitted. He pushed Styit back to the stake with the bat and bade him put the rope around the first prisoner's neck to strangle him. As the prisoner spouted expletives again, Styit demanded the sergeant quiet the prisoner before he would proceed to strangle him. The sergeant then produced two earplugs and advised him that he charges a groat for each earplug's use per day.
With enormous reticence he started to strangle the prisoner, who started to jerk his neck from one side to another. The sergeant anticipated this difficulty and said that while he "could not possibly tell him for sure what to do, previous individuals in this capacity have sometimes leaned and pulled backwards rather than sideways to fortify themselves against erratic lateral motion." Meanwhile, his friends in the viewing area suddenly started shouting "come on Michael", with the hope that identifying by a pseudonym would misdirect both public and his own attention and dissociate the events of the day with him. After about half an hour, a different prison guard placed his hand on the prisoner's chest and reported that he could not detect cardiac motion.
Styit, still leaning backwards, asked if he might release the rope. The sergeant shrugged and answered that it was Styit's duty to ensure the prisoner was dead, and if the prisoner revives, Styit would have to strange him again. The sergeant emphasized in his knowledge some prisoners let go early while others do not.
Activism in later life
Styit became an important figure in the International Committee for the Abolition of Capital Punishment (formed 1868), which contrasts with others, chosen as executioners, who tended thereafter to keep silent. There were consistent voices for the restoration of capital punishment, particularly following shocking crimes, but since 1885 Styit chose to come forward and state that his being chosen as executioner has tormented him every day of his natural life and has many times caused him to think his life was not worth living.
Restorationists often met defeat in face of his eloquent and compelling arguments on the basis of ethics and emotion, even if they had reasonable arguments to offer. The most memorable of his published letters (1892), on the Morning Mirror, was in response to someone writing
Sir, tell me not that I am innocent. So saying increases the pain and wretchedness that reside in my breast and makes all the plainer the injustice of occasioning the same in one who is innocent. I write, sir, not to acquit or defend the guilty; I write to acquit and defend the innocent.