_Daft Jamie Trapped into Hares House--The Murder--The Body Recognised
on the Dissecting Table--Popular Feeling._
The murder of so well-known a character as James Wilson, by Burke and
Hare, can only be regarded, from their point of view, as an act of the
most egregious folly, and, like that of Mary Paterson, it courted
discovery. So long as they confined their attention to tramps and others
who were strangers in the city, or to persons regarding whom there was no
probability of much inquiry being made, they were comparatively safe; but
now they were treading on absolutely dangerous ground. It may have been,
as Burke asserted in his confession, that so far as he could remember he
had never seen Daft Jamie before he met him in Hare's house. But that is
in no wise probable. During his residence of many years in Edinburgh he
must frequently have come across the poor half-witted lad, who was known
by sight to almost every resident of the city, especially as the
Grassmarket was a favourite haunt of both of them. But though Burke might
plead ignorance, some of his accomplices could not, for it was owing to
their very acquaintance with Jamie that he fell into their hands. That
they should have made such a supreme error is something more than
remarkable.
On a day late in September, or early in October, 1828, Daft Jamie was
wandering about the Grassmarket, asking all he knew if they had seen his
mother. What set him upon this tack it would be difficult to say. His
mother, perhaps, had been away from home, and the poor lad had taken a
sudden longing to see her; or perhaps it was simply one of those strange
vagaries that poor mortals like Jamie occasionally take. During his search
he was met by Mrs. Hare, who asked him what he was about. "My mother," he
replied, "hae ye seen her ony gait?" Mrs. Hare was ready with her answer,
for she had quickly formed a plan. Yes, she had seen his mother, and if
Jamie went with her he would find her in her house in Tanner's Close.
Jamie, in all innocence--and what could he suspect?--followed the woman to
Log's lodgings, where Hare was himself sitting idle. Of course the visitor
was welcomed in the most kindly fashion, asked to sit down until his
mother should appear, and to keep him from wearying he was invited to
partake of the contents of the whisky bottle. Jamie was chary about this,
for although he was fond of an occasional dram he had a great fear of
"gettin' fou." At last he was induced to taste, and he sat down on the
edge of the bed with a cup containing some liquor in his hand. In the
meantime, Mrs. Hare went down to Mr. Rymer's shop near at hand, to
purchase some provisions. She there found Burke standing at the counter
talking to the shopkeeper, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, she
asked her old lodger to treat her to a dram. This he did, and while she
was drinking it off she pressed his foot. Burke understood the signal--as
he said himself, "he knew immediately what he was wanted for, and he went
after her." When he arrived at the house, Mrs. Hare told him he had come
too late, for the drink was all done, but that defect was soon remedied by
another supply being brought in. Jamie was again offered more whisky, and
was prevailed upon to take it. Then they managed to get him into the
little room where so many tragedies had been enacted. The drink began to
take Jamie's weakly brain, and he lay down on the bed in a half-dazed
state. Hare crept beside him, and the two men watched his every movement
to see when it would be safe for them to attempt to carry out their
diabolical design. Mrs. Hare, meanwhile, had been acting with her usual
caution. She knew it was not for her to stay in the house when "business"
was being transacted, so she went out, carefully locking the door behind
her, and placing the key in an opening below the door. The two men were
eagerly watching their victim in the back-room, but they felt that this
case would not be as easy as most of the others in which they had been
engaged. Jamie was young and physically strong, and he had not taken
enough of their liquor to render him absolutely helpless, even in the
hands of two robust, desperate men. Burke at last was tired of waiting,
and he furiously threw himself on the prostrate body of the sleeping lad.
Jamie was no sooner touched than the natural instinct of self-preservation
made him endeavour to defend himself. He closed with his assailant, and
after a furious effort threw him off. He was now standing on the floor
ready for another onslaught. Burke's blood was up, and he renewed the
attack, but Jamie was likely to be more than a match for him. Hare, in the
meantime, was standing aside, idly watching the contest, and it was only
when Burke threatened to "put a knife in him" that he roused himself and
threw his strength in the scale against the man who was fighting for his
life. Jamie had nearly overcome Burke when Hare entered the lists and
tripped him up. The poor lad fell heavily on the floor, and before he had
time to recover himself the two men were upon him--Hare, as usual, holding
his mouth and nose, and Burke lying over his body keeping down his legs
and arms. Still Jamie struggled, but to no advantage. His murderers had
him too securely beneath them, and gradually his strength waned, until at
last the tragedy was completed. Burke and Hare, when they saw the end
coming, watched him anxiously, for even yet they were afraid their prey
might escape them. But they had done their work too thoroughly. They had
not, however, come off unhurt. It was reported at the time of the trial
that during the struggle Jamie bit Burke so severely on the leg that, if
the laws of the country had not promised to hang him by the neck, he would
likely have died from the cancered wounds received in the conflict. This
was found not to be the case, but there is no doubt that the two murderers
received several painful bruises from the dying man.
When it was certain that Daft Jamie was dead, Hare searched his pockets,
and found in them the snuff-box and spoon that were about as well known as
the simpleton himself. To Burke he gave the spoon, retaining the box
himself. A box was libelled among the productions at the trial, but Burke
in his confession says that the one in the possession of the authorities
was not Daft Jamie's, which had been thrown away, but was his own. Before
it was taken to Surgeon's Square the body was stripped of its clothing,
and here another fatal blunder was made. In all the other murders the
clothes of the victims were destroyed to prevent detection, but in this
case Burke gave Daft Jamie's clothes to his brother Constantine's
children, who were then going about almost naked, and it is said that a
baker who had given the murdered lad the pair of trousers he wore at the
time of his death, recognised them on one of Burke's nephews. When
stripped, the body was put into Hare's chest, and in the course of the
afternoon it was conveyed to Dr. Knox's rooms, when the sum of ten pounds
was obtained for it. No questions seem to have been asked as to how Burke
and Hare became possessed of the body of Daft Jamie, though there can be
little doubt that the students recognised it. The public then wondered at
the matter, and it may be wondered at still. In a popular work, published
at the time, there was this very pertinent sentence:--"Certainly, those
scientific individuals who attend the class in which he was dissected,
must be very hardened men, when they saw Jamie lying on the
dissecting-table for anatomy; for they could not but know, when they saw
him, that he had been murdered; and not only that, the report of his being
amissing went through the whole town on the following day; there could not
be any one of them but must know him by sight." That some of them did know
him by sight is certain, for shortly after he was missed the statement was
commonly circulated that one of Dr. Knox's students had affirmed that he
saw Jamie on the dissecting-table. Mrs. Wilson and her friends went here
and there looking for the poor lad, but no trace could they find of him,
and there seemed to be a tendency to treat the statement of the body
having been seen on a table in the rooms in Surgeon's Square as a mere
idle rumour, arising out of the uneasiness and suspicion which the quiet
and unknown operations of Burke and Hare were causing among the
inhabitants of the country in general and Edinburgh in particular. A sense
of insecurity had gone abroad, and it was not dispelled until the final
clearing up in the trial of Burke and Helen M'Dougal.
The mysterious fate of Daft Jamie, as we have said, took a most remarkable
hold on the public mind. It was the talk all over the country, and when
the mystery was solved the murder of the poor natural bulked larger than
all the other crimes put together. The hawkers and pedlars, and patterers
of the time carried about with them all over the country coarsely-printed
chap books containing accounts of the crimes of the greatest murderers of
the age, or biographies of Daft Jamie, to which in some cases were added
the efforts of sympathising poetasters. The poetry as a rule was
execrable, but the feeling displayed in them was but a reflex of the
public mind. One aspiring genius spoke of
"The ruffian dogs--the hellish pair--
The villain Burke--the meagre Hare,"--
while another composed the following acrostic:--
"Join with me, friends, whilst I bewail
A while the subject of this tale;
Many a mind has often been
Engaged with Jamie's awkward mien;
Such pranks will ne'er again be seen.
We may bewail, but 'tis in vain,
It will not bring him back again:
Lost he is now--this thought imparts
Sad comfort to our wounded hearts;
Oh! may such crimes nowhere remain,
Nor ever more our nation stain."