_The Fate of Hare--Mrs. Hare in Glasgow--Rescued from the Mob--Her
Escape to Ireland, and Subsequent Career--Helen M'Dougal--Burke's Wife
in Ireland._
In a previous chapter the escape of Hare from Scotland, and the stirring
events that accompanied it, have been minutely described. What became of
him after that is not really known--he dropped out of sight as rapidly as
he had emerged into public ken. Long afterwards it was stated that an old
white-haired blind man, led by a dog, was in the habit of frequenting one
of the busiest corners in London, begging from the passers-by, and this
poor unfortunate was identified as Hare. The statement, however, was made
on no definite authority. Again, some twenty years ago a London newspaper
gave currency to a statement that Hare had died shortly before in Canada,
whither he had found refuge; but whether the fact was as given to the
public was never authoritatively known. If it were the case, he would at
the time of death be a man of between sixty and seventy years of age. But
while he thus escaped from the scene of his crimes to some land where he
was unknown, the memory of his deeds impressed itself strongly on the
minds of the people of Scotland, and there was a tendency to blame him and
his wretched accomplices with offences of which it must be assumed they
were innocent. Thus, in the _Edinburgh Evening Courant_ of the 14th of
February, 1829, it was stated that an investigation was then going on in
the city relative to a murder committed some time before in Shields, the
manner being similar to that adopted by the West Port experts. The object
of the inquiry was said to be to ascertain whether Hare or Burke were in
or out of Edinburgh at the time the crime was committed. It was even
rumoured that Hare had been apprehended in Newcastle on a charge of being
concerned in the deed; but this was not the case, and it would seem as if
nothing came of the inquiry in Edinburgh, for no further mention is made
of it.
As for Mrs. Hare, we must go back a little, and trace her liberation and
the adventures through which she had to go before she left the country.
She was detained in custody for some time after the trial, for, of course,
it would have been unwise and unsafe for the authorities to have risked
her life at the mercy of an excited and unreasoning mob. On Monday, the
26th of January, two days before the execution of Burke, she was liberated
from Calton Hill Jail. Unfortunately for her, she was recognised while
crossing the bridges, and an immense crowd gathered round her. The day was
convenient for people showing their ill-feeling in a comparatively mild
way, for the streets were under a thick covering of snow. Once the cry of
recognition was raised, she was pelted by heavy volleys of snowballs, and
only a feeling of sympathy for the child the woman carried in her arms
prevented the mob from proceeding to more extreme measures. The police
interfered, and for safety took Mrs. Hare to the lock-up, where she
remained until the evening. As twilight was coming over the city she
slipped out of the office, and left Edinburgh.
What became of Mrs. Hare and her helpless infant during the next fortnight
is not known, but nothing was heard of her until the _Glasgow Chronicle_
of Tuesday, 10th February, announced that on that day she had been rescued
by the police from the fury of a Glasgow mob. She must have travelled on
foot between the two cities, a weary, miserable pilgrimage, avoiding
discovery, and often sleeping by roadsides and hayricks, with the
inevitable feeling of a misspent, if not a criminal life. The _Chronicle_,
speaking of her, spoke of her as "the celebrated Mrs. Hare," and stated
that the Calton (Glasgow) police had to lodge her in a police cell to save
her and her child from an infuriated populace. Her statement was that she
had been lodging in the Calton for four nights, "with her infant and her
bit duds," and that those with whom she resided were not aware of her
identity. She had managed so well thus far that she had hoped to be able
to leave Glasgow without detection. In order to ensure this she had been
in the habit of keeping the house during the day, and occasionally in the
early morning, or in the twilight, she had ventured to the Broomielaw, to
see when a vessel would be ready to sail for Ireland, whither she hoped to
be taken. Hitherto she had been disappointed. She had gone out that
morning with the same object, and while returning to her lodgings by way
of Clyde Street, she was recognised by a drunken woman, who shouted
out--"Hare's wife; burke her!" and set the example to the large crowd that
rapidly gathered by throwing a large stone at the unfortunate woman. The
people were not slow to set upon Mrs. Hare, and heaped upon her every
indignity they could imagine. She escaped from her persecutors, and fled
into the Calton, but she was pursued there, and was experiencing very
rough treatment when the police rescued her. In the station-house she
seemed to be completely overcome, and occasionally bursting into tears
she bewailed her unhappy situation, which she declared had been brought
about by Hare's profligacy. All she desired, she told her listeners, was
to get across the channel to Ireland, where she hoped to end her days in
some remote spot near her native place, where she would live in retirement
and penitence. As for Hare, she would never live with him again.
Owing to the threatening attitude of the populace, the authorities saw
they must themselves devise means for Mrs. Hare's safe removal to Ireland.
On the afternoon of her rescue an immense crowd surrounded the police
office expecting to see her depart, but it was feared that the spirit of
riot might again break forth with renewed vigour. She was detained in
custody until Thursday, the 12th of February, when she sailed from the
Broomielaw in the steamer _Fingal_, for Belfast, which port was not far
from her native place. Like her husband, in his escape from Dumfries, she
had to leave the country without her bundle of clothing, which had gone
astray when the people attacked her on the streets. While the _Fingal_ lay
at Greenock to take in cargo, Mrs. Hare was under the guardianship of the
local police, and it was to but a few that she was known to have been in
the town until after her departure.
Mrs. Hare thus arrived in Ireland, and all definite traces of her were
lost. Leighton, however, obtained some information which probably relates
to this unfortunate woman. Writing in 1861, the author of _The Court of
Cacus_ says:--"Not long ago, we were told by a lady who was in Paris about
the year 1850, that, having occasion for a nurse, she employed a woman,
apparently between sixty and seventy years of age. She gave her name as
Mrs. Hare, and upon being questioned whether she had been ever in
Scotland, she denied it, stating that she came from Ireland. Yet she often
sung Scotch songs; and what brings out the suspicion that she was the real
Mrs. Hare the more is, that she had a daughter, whose age, over thirty,
agrees perfectly with that of the infant she had in her arms when in
court. In addition to all this, the woman's face was just that of the
picture published at the time."
Helen M'Dougal was no more fortunate in her treatment by the populace.
Mention has already been made of the riot that followed her liberation,
and it has also been stated that she was seen out of Edinburgh by the
police. She returned and offered to supply the Lord Advocate with
information that would hang Hare, and probably among her statements was
the story that was said to have been told by her after Burke's execution.
Burke and Hare were one night drinking heavily, and in the course of a
discussion on their prospects with the doctors, the former asked his
companion--"What will we do when we can get no more bodies?" Hare coolly
replied--"We can never be absolutely at a loss while our two wives remain,
but that will only be when we are hard up." This was overheard by one of
the women, and is another particle of evidence showing they were not so
ignorant of the desperate nature of the enterprise engaged in by the men.
When M'Dougal finally left Edinburgh she went towards the home of her
relatives in Stirlingshire, but they would having nothing to do with her,
and drove her away. She sought an asylum in the neighbourhood of
Carnworth, but she was recognised and roughly treated; and again at
Newbigging she had to run the gauntlet of an infuriated mob. Towards the
end of January, 1829, a woman was severely abused in Lanark under the idea
that she was M'Dougal, and the mistake was only discovered after she had
been severely injured. The unfortunate person turned out to be a woman
recently arrived from Fort-William. About the beginning of February,
M'Dougal passed through Newcastle, on her way south. The police ordered
her out of the town, and escorted her to the Blue Stone, which stood on
the centre of the Tyne Bridge, marking the boundary between the counties
of Northumberland and Durham, and there she was saluted by execrations and
showers of stones from the populace of Gateshead. What became of her after
this is unknown, but long ere now she must have gone to her account.
But perhaps there is no more affecting part of the terrible story of the
West Port murders than is discovered by a letter received by an Edinburgh
gentleman from the Rev. Anthony Corcoran, Roman Catholic curate at
Kilmore, May, near Ballina. This gentleman had written to Ireland
requesting the clergyman to make inquiries regarding Burke's wife. Mr.
Corcoran sent the following reply, dated 26th January, 1829:--"I have
minutely inquired into the conduct of the unfortunate Bourke, and I feel
much pleasure in assuring you that there was not a blot on his character
for the time he lived in Ballina. After the receipt of your letter, I sent
for Margaret Coleman, Bourke's wife, to whom I communicated the sad news
of the awful death that awaited her ill-fated husband. She was prepared
for the shock for some time. She was acquainted with her husband's
criminal intercourse with the notorious M'Dougal. I fear that the
companions of his travels from this country were his companions in blood
in Scotland, and that every religious impression is blotted from their
minds."
By this time the newspapers had ceased to pay much attention to the West
Port tragedies--the Catholic emancipation question beginning to agitate
the country, while Parliamentary reform was being strongly pushed to the
front--but they gave circulation to occasional pieces of gossip. It was
stated that when old Abigail Simpson from Gilmerton was lying intoxicated
in the house in Tanner's Close, Burke and Hare sat carousing by the
fireside. "Do you hear that," remarked Hare to his companion, as he
listened to the woman's heavy breathing, "it would not be difficult to
take her where we took Donald." This was the suggestion for the first
murder.