The morning of January 6, 1927. Robert G. Elliott woke up early, had breakfast with his family, then boarded a train to Massachusetts. At Charlestown Prison, he electrocuted three inmates before noon. Then he caught a train back to New York, stopped by to see his wife and children for a few hours. That evening, he arrived at Sing Sing Prison and electrocuted three more men before midnight.
Six people. Two states. One day.

Then he went home, watered his garden, and went to sleep.
The Man Who Wanted to Be a Minister — But Chose Electricity Instead
Robert G. Elliott grew up in a prosperous family on a large farm in upstate New York. He studied mathematics and physics, but his true passion was electricity — at a time in the late 19th century when electrical transmission was an exciting and promising new technology. Theava
His father was a devout Methodist who had once hoped his son would enter the ministry. But Elliott chose to become an electrical engineer instead. He traveled across New York and New England installing power systems for cities — decent, civilized, entirely ordinary work. Wikipedia
Until the prison called.
Called in as a consultant for an execution in New York State, and having read about the suffering and failures of previous electrocutions, Elliott realized that the trick of a successful execution was to adjust the application of electricity continuously and judiciously throughout the process — rather as an anesthesiologist controls the flow of gas to a surgical patient — so that the subject was rendered unconscious instantly, then extinguished gradually in a comparatively peaceful manner. Theava
He had found the formula. And no one would ever do it better than him.
“The Elliott Method” — When Science Met the Death Penalty
Elliott usually began an execution with 2,000 volts for 3 seconds to render the condemned immediately unconscious. He would then lower the voltage to 500 volts for the remainder of the first minute to heat the vital organs. Then raise it again to 2,000 volts for another 3 seconds, drop back to 500 volts for the second minute, and once more surge to 2,000 volts before cutting the power entirely. He recommended an ideal amperage of around 8 amps. Wikipedia
This technique became known as “The Elliott Method” — and was adopted by every one of his successors.

He often carried his own electrodes with him, including a headpiece made from a cut-down football helmet, lined on the inside with a moist sponge. Wikipedia
A gardener. A churchgoing Protestant. A man who played with his grandchildren on weekends. And also the man who designed the most precise electrocution procedure in American history.
The Biggest Names in America All Passed Through His Hands
On August 23, 1927, Elliott electrocuted two Italian immigrants — Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti — at Charlestown State Prison in Massachusetts. The case had drawn international protests from millions who believed the two men had been wrongfully convicted due to political bias against anarchists. Grokipedia
Then came Ruth Snyder — the woman who conspired with her lover to murder her husband for his insurance money. On the night of Snyder’s execution, over 3,000 people crowded around the gates of Sing Sing. A press photographer had smuggled a camera into the death chamber, hidden on his body, and snapped a photo at the precise moment Snyder was electrocuted. That photograph appeared on the front page of the New York Daily News the following morning — becoming one of the most famous images in the history of American journalism. Crime Library
And then there was Bruno Hauptmann — the man convicted of kidnapping the infant son of aviation hero Charles Lindbergh, in what was called “the crime of the century.” Right up until the final moments before he was led from his cell, Hauptmann still believed a reprieve was coming. It never did. Elliott described him as a bewildered, almost insensible figure. Crime Library
The Man Who Hated His Own Job More Than Anyone in America
The most extraordinary thing about Robert Elliott was not the 387 executions he carried out.
It was what he said about them afterward.
Despite his profession, Elliott was deeply opposed to capital punishment. In his memoirs, he wrote: “I hope that the day is not far distant when legal slaying — whether by electrocution, hanging, lethal gas, or any other method — is outlawed throughout the United States.” Wikipedia
After the execution of Sacco and Vanzetti, persons unknown planted a bomb beneath his house that destroyed his front porch. For some time afterward, the State of New York paid for a 24-hour guard posted around his home. Wikipedia
And yet he kept going. Because no one else could do this job as well as he could — and in his view, if someone had to do it, it was better to be someone who would make it as painless as possible.
He found no satisfaction in killing people — quite the reverse — but he had an ability, more or less unique, to dispatch them gently. Theava
The Quiet End of an Extraordinary Life
Elliott remains the most experienced state electrician in American penal history. He became notorious statewide — easily as well-known in New York as any of the people he had executed. Substack
Elliott remained on the job until 1939, when he fell ill. He died later that year in Queens, New York, at the age of 66. Crime Library
His memoir, Agent of Death — published after his death — remains one of the rarest documents ever written: an insider account of a professional executioner’s world, meticulous, cold-eyed, and written by a man who spent 13 years opposing the very thing he was paid to do.
A gardener. A devout Protestant. A father, a grandfather. And the only man in American history to electrocute 387 human beings — then spend the rest of his life telling the world that no one should ever have to do it at all.
Robert G. Elliott’s memoir “Agent of Death” was published in 1940, the year after his death. His custom-built electrodes — including the football helmet headpiece he carried to every execution for 13 years — were his constant companions throughout his entire career.