+Source.+--_Autobiography of the Rev. Dr. Alexander Carlyle,
Minister of Inveresk, 1722-1770_, p. 33. (Edinburgh and London:
1860.)
I was witness to a very extraordinary scene that happened in the month
of February or March 1736, which was the escape of Robertson, a
condemned criminal, from the Tolbooth Church in Edinburgh. In these days
it was usual to bring the criminals who were condemned to death into
that church, to attend public worship every Sunday after their
condemnation, when the clergyman made some part of his discourse and
prayers to suit their situation; which, among other circumstances of
solemnity which then attended the state of condemned criminals, had no
small effect on the public mind. Robertson and Wilson were smugglers,
and had been condemned for robbing a custom-house, where some of their
goods had been deposited; a crime what at that time did not seem, in the
opinion of the common people, to deserve so severe a punishment. I was
carried by an acquaintance to church to see the prisoners on the Sunday
before the day of execution. We went early into the church on purpose to
see them come in, and were seated in a pew before the gallery in front
of the pulpit. Soon after we went into the church by the door from the
Parliament Close, the criminals were brought in by the door next the
Tolbooth, and placed in a long pew, not far from the pulpit. Four
soldiers came in with them, and placed Robertson at the head of the pew,
and Wilson below him, two of themselves sitting below Wilson, and two in
a pew behind him.
The bells were ringing and the doors were open, while the people were
coming into the church. Robertson watched his opportunity, and, suddenly
springing up, got over the pew into the passage that led in to the door
in the Parliament Close, and, no person offering to lay hands on him,
made his escape in a moment--so much the more easily, perhaps, as
everybody's attention was drawn to Wilson, who was a stronger man, and
who, attempting to follow Robertson, was seized by the soldiers, and
struggled so long with them that the two who at last followed Robertson
were too late. It was reported that he had maintained his struggle that
he might let his companion have time. That might be his second thought,
but his first certainly was to escape himself, for I saw him set his
foot on the seat to leap over, when the soldiers pulled him back. Wilson
was immediately carried out to the Tolbooth, and Robertson, getting
uninterrupted through the Parliament Square, down the back stairs, into
the Cowgate, was heard of no more till he arrived in Holland. This was
an interesting scene, and by filling the public mind with compassion for
the unhappy person who did not escape, and who was the better character
of the two, had probably some influence in producing what followed; for
when the sentence against Wilson came to be executed a few weeks
thereafter, a very strong opinion prevailed that there was a plot to
force the Town Guard, whose duty it is to attend executions under the
order of a civil magistrate.
There was a Captain Porteous, who by his good behaviour in the army had
obtained a subaltern's commission, and had afterwards, when on half-pay,
been preferred to the command of the City Guard. This man, by his skill
in manly exercises, particularly the golf, and by gentlemanly behaviour,
was admitted into the company of his superiors, which elated his mind,
and added insolence to his native roughness, so that he was much feared
and hated by the mob of Edinburgh. When the day of execution came, the
rumour of a deforcement at the gallows prevailed strongly; and the
Provost and Magistrates (not in their own minds very strong) thought it
a good measure to apply for three or four companies of a marching
regiment that lay in the Canongate, to be drawn up in the Lawnmarket, a
street leading from the Tolbooth to the Grassmarket, the place of
execution, in order to overawe the mob by their being at hand. Porteous,
who it is said, had his natural courage increased to rage by any
suspicion that he and his Guard could not execute the law, and being
heated likewise with wine--for he had dined, as the custom then was,
between one and two--became perfectly furious when he passed by the
three companies drawn up in the street as he marched along with his
prisoner.
... The street is long and wide, and there was a very great crowd
assembled. The execution went on with the usual forms, and Wilson
behaved in a manner very becoming his situation. There was not the least
appearance of an attempt to rescue; but soon after the executioner had
done his duty, there was an attack made upon him, as usual on such
occasions, by the boys and blackguards throwing stones and dirt in
testimony of their abhorrence of the hangman. But there was no attempt
to break through the guard and cut down the prisoner. It was generally
said that there was very little, if any, more violence than had usually
happened on such occasions. Porteous, however, inflamed with wine and
jealousy, thought proper to order his Guard to fire, their muskets being
loaded with slugs; and when the soldiers showed reluctance, I saw him
turn to them with threatening gesture and an inflamed countenance. They
obeyed, and fired; but wishing to do as little harm as possible, many of
them elevated their pieces, the effect of which was that some people
were wounded in the windows; and one unfortunate lad, whom we had
displaced, was killed in the stair window by a slug entering his head.
His name was Henry Black, a journey man tailor, whose bride was the
daughter of the house we were in. She fainted away when he was brought
into the house speechless, where he only lived till nine or ten o'clock.
We had seen many people, women and men, fall in the street, and at first
thought it was only through fear, and by their crowding on one another
to escape. But when the crowd dispersed, we saw them lying dead or
wounded, and had no longer any doubt of what had happened. The numbers
were said to be eight or nine killed, and double the number wounded; but
this was never exactly known.
This unprovoked slaughter irritated the common people to the last; and
the state of grief and rage into which their minds were thrown, was
visible in the high commotion that appeared in the multitude.... The
sequel of this affair was, that Porteous was tried and condemned to be
hanged; but by the intercession of some of the Judges themselves, who
thought his case hard, he was reprieved by the Queen-Regent. The
Magistrates, who on this occasion, as on the former, acted weakly,
designed to have him removed to the Castle for greater security. But a
plot was laid and conducted by some persons unknown with the greatest
secrecy, policy, and vigour, to prevent that design, by forcing the
prison the night before, and executing the sentence upon him themselves,
which to effectuate cost them from eight at night till two in the
morning; and yet this plot was managed so dexterously that they met with
no interruption, though there were five companies of a marching regiment
lying in the Canongate.
This happened on the 7th of September, 1736; and so prepossessed were
the minds of every person that something extraordinary would take place
that day, that I, at Prestonpans, nine miles from Edinburgh, dreamt that
I saw Captain Porteous hanged in the Grassmarket. I got up betwixt six
and seven, and went to my father's servant, who was thrashing in the
barn which lay on the roadside leading to Aberlady and North Berwick,
who said that several men on horseback had passed about five in the
morning, whom having asked for news, they replied there was none, but
that Captain Porteous had been dragged out of prison, and hanged on a
dyer's tree at two o'clock that morning.
This bold and lawless deed not only provoked the Queen, who was Regent
at the time, but gave some uneasiness to Government. It was represented
as a dangerous plot, and was ignorantly connected with a great meeting
of zealous Covenanters, of whom many still remained in Galloway and the
west, which had been held in summer, in Pentland Hills, to renew the
Covenant. But this was a mistake; for the murder of Porteous had been
planned and executed by a few of the relations or friends of those whom
he had slain; who, being of a rank superior to mere mob, had carried on
their design with so much secrecy, ability, and steadiness as made it be
ascribed to a still higher order, who were political enemies to
Government.