CHAPTER XXXII.

_Popular Feeling against Hare--His Behaviour in Prison--Withdrawal of

the Warrant--His Liberation and Flight--Recognition--Riot in Dumfries,

and Narrow Escape of Hare--Over the Border--Ballad Version of the

Flight._

The warrant _in meditatione fugæ_ by the relatives of James Wilson against

Hare was withdrawn quietly on the afternoon of Thursday, the 5th of

February, and the authorities at once made arrangements for his

liberation. They knew that to place him outside the prison gates and allow

him to shift for himself would only be to endanger his life at the hands

of the excited mob of Edinburgh, who would, under the high feeling then

prevailing, have scrupled little about hanging the detested criminal and

informer from the bar of the nearest lamp-post, or to have thrown him from

the Castle-hill. Hare knew the feeling that was against him, but he

affected to treat it with scorn. Even while the proceedings were being

taken against him, and it was doubtful if he would not be put upon trial,

which would have meant certain conviction, he displayed a levity

altogether unbecoming a man in the critical position in which he stood. He

asked his agent, with a sneer, what was the value of Daft Jamie, and

remarked that the price given by the doctors was surely too much, as if

the poor lad been offered alive to any one he would not have been bought

at any price. His opinion of the proceedings, therefore, was that the

judges were wasting their time and their talent about a thing of no value.

On another occasion Hare and several fellow-prisoners were walking in the

court-yard when some visitors were being shown through the establishment.

One of his companions turned to the strangers, and, pointing with his

finger to the notorious criminal, said, "Here's Hare; look at him!" The

eyes of the party were immediately turned upon the man whose crimes had

made him so infamous, but he, with brutal nonchalance, stared them out of

countenance, and remarked, "Pitch a shilling this way, will ye?"

It was but natural that in the state of public feeling the decision of the

High Court of Justiciary in Hare's petition should cause dissatisfaction

in many quarters; and the fact that two of the judges took a different

view of the law from the majority of their colleagues, only tended to

prolong the controversy. Many were the bitter comments made on the case,

but none was more forcible than the remark that the judges came to decide

on the case drunk with law, and kicked sober justice out of court. Clever

although this statement was, and partially true, it involved a fallacy

which was admitted after the excitement occasioned by the disclosures of

the conspiracy had spent itself.

But notwithstanding this feeling on the part of the public, the law had to

be carried out, and Hare had to be set at liberty. The prison officials

took an outside place for him, under the appropriate name of Mr. Black, on

the coach for England; and shortly after eight o'clock on the night of

Thursday, the 5th of February, Hare left Caltonhill Jail. To prevent

identification he was muffled up in an old camelot cloak; and in his hand

he carried a small bundle of clothes. Accompanying him was John Fisher,

the head turnkey, who was charged to see him safe out of Edinburgh. At

Waterloo Bridge they called a hackney coach, and in it drove to Newington,

where they waited the arrival of the mail. When the coach came up it was

stopped, and Hare took his place on the outside. As the guard called out

to the driver, "All's right," the turnkey shouted out a cordial farewell

to his _quasi_ friend--"Good bye, Mr. Black, and I wish you well home."

Away the coach went, and Hare was free and out of Edinburgh without it

being known to any but the prison officials that he was even at liberty.

What a tumult there would have been had the people suspected that the man

for whose death they clamoured was posting from them! Had they even had an

inkling of what was going on it is problematical if he would have been

allowed to leave the city without marks of their vengeance which he would

have borne to his dying day, possibly he would have been torn to pieces.

However, the plans of the authorities had been carried out with such

secrecy that no one was aware of what was being done, and Hare might have

left the country without recognition, had it not been for his own

imprudence. The night was bitterly cold, and in the frosty air a seat on

the top of a rapidly travelling coach was far from comfortable.

Accordingly, when the mail arrived at Noblehouse, the second stage on the

Edinburgh road, Hare, knowing there were twenty minutes to wait, descended

from his perch, and accompanied the inside passengers into the inn. He

seemed to be alive to the dangers of recognition, for at first he sat near

the door, at the back of the company, with his cloak muffled closely

around him, but some of his fellow-travellers, thinking his backwardness

was due to modesty, said he must be perishing with cold, and invited him

to a seat nearer the fire. Hare felt the truth of the suggestion, and in

taking advantage of the invitation he threw aside his cloak and hat to

warm his hands before the roaring fire. This was an injudicious movement

on the part of the fugitive under any circumstances, but it was especially

so now owing to the fact that Mr. Sandford, the advocate, who had been

employed along with Mr. Jeffrey by Daft Jamie's relatives to conduct the

prosecution against Hare, was a passenger in the coach, and one of the

company in the inn. Sandford at once recognised him, and Hare knew that,

for he saw the advocate shake his head ominously at him.

When the guard blew his horn for the renewal of the journey, Hare was

first at the coach-door, and as the night was so bitterly cold, and there

was a vacant seat inside, he was allowed to occupy it. Mr. Sandford,

however, when he discovered the new arrangement, ordered the guard to

"take that fellow out," and although others of the passengers

remonstrated on the hardship of sending the man to the outside of the

coach in such weather, he insisted upon being obeyed, and accordingly Hare

was transferred to his old seat. The coach again started, and the advocate

judging that his fellow-travellers were entitled to some explanation of

his extraordinary conduct, revealed to them the identity of the person he

had dealt with so harshly, and if their sympathies did not altogether

disappear they at least concluded that the position taken up by Mr.

Sandford was to some extent justifiable.

When the coach arrived in the morning at the King's Arms in Dumfries, the

news spread rapidly that Hare was among its passengers, and by eight

o'clock a crowd of some eight thousand people surrounded the inn, all

eager to obtain a sight of the notorious murderer whose terrible crimes

had caused such a sensation in that, as in other parts of the country. It

was known that he was bound for Portpatrick, and the interval of four

hours between the arrival of the Edinburgh mail and the departure of the

Galloway and Portpatrick coach was one of the most exciting in the history

of Dumfries. Meanwhile Hare was inside the inn drinking ale with a number

of stablemen, giving them such ridiculous toasts as "Bad luck to fortune."

Some of them tried to get a story of his crimes from him, but he declined

to say anything about them, as he declared he had said enough about that

before, and had done his duty in Edinburgh.

It was deemed impossible to drive the mail along the High Street, when the

time of departure arrived, if Hare were in it, with safety to the other

persons connected with it, for the people had laid their plans for the

attack. They intended stopping the coach at the bridge and throwing Hare

into the river, or failing that, they had closed the gates at Cassylands

toll-bar where they proposed to deal with him in another manner. Two

passengers were sent forward a part of the way in a gig, and the coach

left the inn empty. The mob surrounded it, but their fury was only

intensified to find that the West Port murderer was not in it. The coach

was allowed to proceed, and attention was again turned to the inn, towards

which a large number pressed their way. An old woman attempted to strike

at "the villain" with her umbrella, and another, after exhausting herself

with verbal abuse, seized him by the collar of the coat and gave him such

a shaking that he was nearly strangled. An hostler addressed the now

trembling Hare:--"Whaur are ye gaun, man? or whaur can ye gang tae? Hell's

ower guid for ye. The very deevils, for fear o' mischief, widna daur to

let ye in; and as for heaven, that's entirely oot o' the question." As he

crouched in a corner a small boy menaced him, and was backed up by the

crowd, who enjoyed the sight. Hare at last became so thoroughly

exasperated that he told his tormentors to "come on," and give him "fair

play." The tormenting to which he was subject became unbearable, and he

seized his bundle and walked towards the door, determined, as he said, to

let the mob "tak' their will o' him," but in this effort he was checked by

a medical man who happened to be present.

The position of affairs in Dumfries had now become positively alarming,

and Mr. Fraser, the landlord of the King's Arms, saw that while his

obnoxious guest remained in his house it was in danger of being wrecked,

and he was therefore naturally anxious for his removal. In fact the whole

town and neighbourhood were completely convulsed, and it was impossible to

tell what might be the next movement on the part of the excited people.

The burgh magistrates met to deliberate upon some plan for preserving the

peace of the town. After long consideration they agreed upon a plan which

ran every risk of failure, but which was perhaps the only one they could

have adopted.

A chaise and pair drove up to the door of the King's Arms, between two and

three o'clock in the afternoon. A trunk was buckled to it, and a great

fuss was made. While these movements were going on before the people to

attract their attention from what was the really important part of the

magisterial plan, Hare slipped out of a back window, crept along by the

stable-wall to a chaise in readiness to receive him. Once he was in, the

doors were closed, the postilion whipped his horses to the gallop, and

drove rapidly along the street towards the river. The mob having received

a hint of what was going on from a few boys who had been lounging about

the inn stables, made after the chaise with a rush. Volleys of stones

were thrown at it, and some of the missiles went through the windows of

the vehicle, narrowly missing Hare, who cowered at the bottom of it. On

the horses flew, and, taking a turn sharply, the coach was nearly

overturned, but after running a short distance on two wheels it righted.

At the bridge the fugitives were almost intercepted, but the people were

too late. After some furious driving, the jail door was reached, and the

governor, having been informed that he might expect a distinguished guest,

opened the door immediately. Hare sprang out of the chaise, and in past a

strong chain that had been placed behind the prison gate for greater

security against a rush of the mob. "Into this gulf he leapt," said the

_Dumfries Courier_ of the following week, "hop, step, and jump, a thousand

times more happy to get into prison than the majority of criminals are to

get out of it."

The people now saw how they had been deceived, and they were furious with

rage and disappointment. Hare, if he fell into their hands now could not

hope to escape; but, fortunately for him, the high strong walls of the

prison were between him and the excited populace. The mob laid siege to

the jail, blocked up all the door and gateway, and no one could pass out

or in without considerable personal risk. This began at four o'clock in

the afternoon, and for four hours later the angry mob howled and shouted,

and even sought to break down the prison gates with a heavy piece of iron

which they used as a battering-ram. When the street lamps in the vicinity

were lighted at nightfall, they were immediately extinguished by some of

the rioters, many of whom had now come to the conclusion that the best

means they could adopt for forcing a surrender was to burn down the gate

by lighted tar barrels and peats. About eight o'clock in the evening,

however, the magistrates had made arrangements for dispersing the people.

The militia staff and the police force had been found quite insufficient

to quell the disturbance. A hundred special constables were therefore

sworn-in, and were drafted to assist in the preservation of the peace. The

augmented force quickly cleared the streets, and the people, tired and

exhausted with their exciting day's employment, at last reluctantly

retired to their homes. But their efforts were plainly manifest in the

amount of wreckage about the town, and scarcely a window in the prison or

its neighbourhood was intact.

While the tumult was at its height, Hare, fatigued and weary, slipped away

to the bed provided for him, and soon he was fast asleep, for he had had

no rest since leaving Calton Jail in Edinburgh. About one o'clock on

Saturday morning he was wakened by the officials, who told him that, now

the town was quiet, he must depart immediately. Trembling violently, he

put on his clothes, and before leaving asked for his cloak and bundle. But

these had been left at the inn, and were not at hand. The officers said he

must do without them, and thank his stars into the bargain that he had

escaped with whole bones. They also advised him that--as the whole of

Galloway was in arms, and as the mail-coach had been stopped and searched

the day before at Crocketford toll-bar, probably, also, at every other

stage between Dumfries and Portpatrick--he would be better to take a

different road. With this advice he set out on his journey on foot, and by

three o'clock in the morning he was seen by a boy passing Dodbeck. By

daybreak he was probably over the border. On Saturday and Sunday it was

reported that Hare's identity had been discovered at Annan, and that he

had been stoned to death; but this was a mistake, for the driver of the

English mail, on his return journey, saw him seated on the roadside within

half-a-mile of Carlisle shortly after five o'clock on Saturday afternoon.

The fugitive was then seated talking to two stone-breakers, and as the

coach passed he held down his head, but was recognised by the driver and

an outside passenger. On the Sunday morning he was again seen about two

miles beyond Carlisle, having skirted the city, the inhabitants of which

were stated to be prepared to give him as cordial reception as the men of

Dumfries. It is believed that after this Hare turned eastwards towards

Newcastle, but as a matter of fact nothing is authoritatively known of his

subsequent movements.

There is a story which an old resident of the east end of Glasgow, who

died over eighty years of age, in the autumn of last year (1883), used to

tell with great gusto. In his younger days this old gentleman was of a

wandering disposition, and travelled on foot over the greater part of the

island. In the spring of 1829 he passed through Berwick-on-Tweed, and put

up for the night at a lodging-house there. He was told by the landlady

that he could not have a bed for himself, but would require to sleep with

another lodger who was, of course, a stranger to him. On retiring to the

room, M'A----, the Glaswegian, found that his bed-fellow was before him,

and was sound asleep. This, however, was of little consequence, and he was

soon himself in a similar condition. In the middle of the night he was

awakened by his companion grasping him firmly by the throat, and, greatly

alarmed, he flung off his assailant, sprung out of bed, and demanded to

know what such behaviour meant. The stranger replied, in an apologetic

tone, that he must have had the nightmare, for he knew nothing about what

he was doing until he was thrown off. After a little conversation the two

men became quite friendly, and again retired to rest. The night passed

without further incident. In the morning, when he awoke, M'A---- found

that his bed-fellow was gone. He told the landlady at breakfast of the

adventure, and she then informed him that the man with whom he had slept

was none other than the notorious Hare. He shivered with horror, but the

danger was past, and, for more than half a century, M'A---- told how in

his youth he had spent a night with Hare, the accomplice of Burke. If the

identification was correct, it was probably the case that Hare was really

suffering from the nightmare, for it is not at all likely that he would

attempt murder among strangers so soon after his narrow escape in

Edinburgh.

In the preceding pages the story of Hare's departure from Scotland has

been told, very much as given to the world in the columns of the _Dumfries

Courier_; but the ballad-makers had another version which may prove

interesting now, as it did at the time of its publication. Here are a few

verses:--

"Dark was the mid-night, when Hare fled away,

Not a star in the sky gave him one cheering ray,

But still now and then blue lightning did glare,

And strange shrieks assailed him like shrieks of despair.

"But still as the fugitive ran down the wild glen,

Not a place did he fear like the dwellings of men;

Where a heap lay before him all dismal and bare

The ghost of Daft Jamie appeared to him there.

"'I am come,' says the shade, 'from the land of the dead,

Though there be for poor Jamie no grass-covered bed;

O'er hills and o'er valleys I'll watch thee for ill,

I will haunt all thy wanderings, and follow thee still.

" . . . . . .

. . . . . .

'I am come to remind you of deeds that are past,

And tell you that Justice will find you at last.

"'When night darkens the world, oh, how can you sleep?

In your dreams do you ne'er see my poor mother weep?

And long will she weep, and long will she mourn,

Till her wandering Jamie from the grave can return.

"'From the grave, did I say? Ah, calm is the bed

Where sleepless and dreamless lie the bones of the dead;

Their friends may lament them, and their sorrows may be,

But no grave grows green in the wide world for me.

"'Oh, Hare, go and cover your fugitive head,

In some land you're not known by the living or dead;

For the living against thee will justly combine,

And the dead will despise such a body as thine.'"

The History of Burke and Hare, and of the Resurrectionist Times A Fragment from the Criminal Annals of Scotland · 第 32 / 43 章