_The End Approaches--Proposed Extension of Business--Mrs. Docherty
claimed as Burke's Relative--The Lodgers Dismissed--The Murder of Mrs.
Docherty._
But the end was near. This wholesale slaughter of human beings in the
metropolis of a civilised country was almost finished. The only marvel was
that it had lasted so long.
The work had been conducted with so much impunity, however, that the prime
movers in this dreadful conspiracy against human life had made
arrangements for the extension of their operations. They found a ready
market for their goods, and when they took a body to Surgeon's Square they
were always encouraged to bring more. Their efforts in the cause of
science were thus appreciated by the scientists themselves, and it matters
little whether these scientists were aware of the diabolical means their
favourite merchants used to obtain possession of the bodies they brought
for their use. To rob a churchyard of its ghastly contents was as much a
crime, though it was certainly not so serious, against the laws of the
country and the public sense of morality, as the murder of a
fellow-creature for his mortal remains. And then Burke and Hare found
their work comparatively easy, and very remunerative, though perhaps a
little risky. It was much easier than the cobbling of boots and shoes, or
travelling about the country as a pedlar. They enjoyed themselves looking
for victims, and the process of getting one into a fit state for
"disposal" was quite suited to their tastes. When it came to the
point--when the person to whom so much attention was paid was stupid and
helpless--there was, as a rule, little to be done. Burke described the
method very simply in his _Courant_ confession:--"When they kept the mouth
and the nose shut a very few minutes, they [the victims] could make no
resistance, but would convulse and make a rumbling noise in their bellies
for some time; after they ceased crying and making resistance, they [the
murderers] left them to die by themselves; but their bodies would often
move afterwards, and for some time they would have long breathings before
life went away." And every one can re-echo the sentiment of the remark by
Burke, made almost in presence of that death he had so often invoked on
others:--"It was God's providence that put a stop to their murdering
career, or he did not know how far they might have gone with it, even to
attack people on the streets." All these circumstances, then, added to the
freedom from suspicion which Burke and Hare hitherto enjoyed, render it
not at all surprising that these desperate men should have laid their
plans for an extension of their business. Burke and another man, with whom
they had arranged, were to go to Glasgow or Ireland, and "try the same
there," forwarding the subjects to Hare in Edinburgh, who was to dispose
of them to Dr. Knox. The "other man" was popularly believed to be David
Paterson, Dr. Knox's porter, and he was openly charged in the public
prints of the time with being in complicity with Burke and Hare, although
he strenuously denied it. But more of that at the proper time. The
contract with Dr. Knox, also, was highly satisfactory. They were to
receive ten pounds in winter and eight pounds in summer for as many
subjects as they could supply. This scheme, however, was not carried into
effect, for the end came suddenly.
The last of the West Port tragedies was the murder of Mary Campbell or
Docherty, an old Irishwoman who had come to Edinburgh to look for her son.
On the morning of the 31st October--the Friday of the Sacrament
week--Burke was in Rymer's grocery store near his own close-mouth, talking
to the shop-boy while he sipped a tumbler of liquor. As he was doing this
an old woman entered the shop, and asked for assistance. Burke, ever on
the outlook, saw the poor beggar was in every way suitable for his
purpose--she was an old and frail stranger who would never be missed
because she was not known, and her very frailty would make her a sure and
easy victim. He soon got into conversation with her, asked her name, and
what part of Ireland she came from. She answered him readily, and he,
having thus got the cue, said she must be some relation of his mother,
whose name was also Docherty, and out of what appeared to be pure
friendliness--out of a feeling of patriotism or kinship--he invited her
to his house to partake of breakfast with him. The poor woman was thus
offered what she most needed, and delighted to find she had met a friend,
she accompanied him to the house once occupied by Broggan, but which,
since that person had left the city, had been tenanted by Burke and Helen
M'Dougal. Mrs. Docherty was made welcome by M'Dougal, who seemed to
understand everything. Burke set the breakfast, but the stranger would not
touch it until noon, as it was Friday. Leaving Helen M'Dougal to look to
the comfort of their guest, Burke went in search of Hare, whom he found in
Rymer's public house. They had a gill of whisky together, and Burke then
told his colleague that he had at home "a good shot to take to the
doctors." Hare, of course, was ready to participate in the work, and went
with his colleague. By the time they arrived at the house they found that
M'Dougal and the old woman had, after their breakfast, set about cleaning
up the room, and had everything as neat and tidy as the ill-furnished,
tumble-down structure could well be. Burke again visited Rymer's for some
provisions, and preparations were made for a night's junketting, to be
followed by the usual tragedy.
But there was a serious difficulty in the way, and that must be got rid of
before anything further was done. At that time there were lodging with
Burke an old soldier named James Gray and his wife. The man was a native
of the Grassmarket, who, after an attempt to learn his trade as a
jeweller, had enlisted in the Elgin Fencibles, transferring afterwards to
the 72nd Regiment, and who had returned with his wife to Edinburgh after
an absence of about seventeen years. He met Burke in the High Street about
a fortnight before the affair with Mrs. Docherty, and had lodged with him
for nearly a week. The difficulty, therefore, was to get this couple out
of the house without creating suspicion, for they could not be trusted.
Burke explained to them that he had discovered the old woman was a
relation of his mother, and certainly the animated conversation carried on
in Irish by him and the woman seemed to confirm the statement that some
relationship, however distant, existed between them. Of course it would
not do for Mrs. Docherty to seek accommodation anywhere else than in her
relation's house, and it would be a matter of obligement if Mr. and Mrs.
Gray would find quarters in some other place for a night or two. Gray and
his wife readily acquiesced in the suggestion, and Burke went out to look
after lodgings for them. These were easily obtained in Hare's house, and
the unwelcome couple, towards evening, left for their new abode. Thus far
the arrangements had worked admirably, and now that the way was clear the
tragedy could begin at once.
In the evening Mrs. Hare joined the company, and the fun began. The whisky
circulated rapidly, Burke indulged his musical tastes by singing his
favourite songs, and the old woman crooned over some of the Irish ballads
she had learned in her youth. Dancing, too, was engaged in; and once or
twice visits were paid to the house of a neighbour, where the revelry was
continued, and where Docherty hurt her foot when endeavouring to emulate
the sprightliness of her more youthful companions. As the night wore on
they kept more to their own house. The neighbours, between ten and eleven
o'clock, heard a great disturbance proceeding from Burke's dwelling, and
some of them, though used to the sounds of drunken riot from that quarter,
had the curiosity to look through the keyhole of the door to see what was
going on. One of them, a woman, saw--or thought she saw--Helen M'Dougal
holding a bottle to the mouth of Docherty, pouring the whisky down her
throat. After a while the disturbance ceased, but not for long. About
eleven o'clock Hare quarrelled with Burke, and the dispute could only be
settled by an appeal to blows. Whether this was a real quarrel or not it
would be difficult to say, for, though Burke himself declared "it was a
real scuffle," it has been pointed out as a suspicious circumstance that
this "quarrel" is in a sense the counterpart of the one that took place
between Burke and M'Dougal immediately before the murder of Mary Paterson.
While the two men were fighting, Mrs. Docherty, tipsy though she was,
tried to interfere. She rose from the stool on which she had been sitting
by the fireside, and asked Burke to sit down, as she did not wish to see
him abused. The fight, however, still continued, and Hare, whether by
design or not, knocked the old woman over a stool. She fell heavily, and,
owing to the amount of drink she had taken, was unable to rise. Whenever
this had been done the fighting ceased, Mrs. Hare and Helen M'Dougal
slipped out of the house, and Burke and Hare set to work on the prostrate,
helpless woman. It was after the old method, but a fatal mistake was made.
One of them grasped her violently by the throat, leaving the mark of the
undue pressure. Soon the woman was dead. Burke undressed the body, doubled
it up, and laid it among a quantity of straw beside the bed. The women
then returned to the room, and Burke went to see Paterson, Dr. Knox's
porter, brought him to the house, and, pointing to the place where the
body lay, told him that there was a subject which would be ready for him
in the morning. When Paterson left, the four human fiends resumed their
debauch, and for the last time together they spent a riotous night. The
murder was committed between eleven and twelve o'clock on Hallowe'en
night; and they brought in the month of November with heavy drinking.
About midnight they were joined in their cups by a young fellow named
Broggan, a son of the man to whom the house had once belonged, and who, as
we have seen, was bought off when the first murder--that of M'Dougal's
cousin, was committed in it. At last, when the morning was far advanced,
they were all overcome by sleep, and the party lay down to rest, with the
body of the murdered woman beside them.