condemned by the High Court of Justiciary to die on Wednesday the 14th of
April 1736. Hall was reprieved, but Wilson and Robertson were left to
suffer the extreme penalty of the law. A plan was concocted to enable them
to escape out of the Tolbooth, by sawing the iron bars of the window; but
Wilson, who is described as a "round, squat man," stuck fast, and before he
could be disentangled the guard were alarmed. It is said that Robertson
wished to attempt first the escape, and there is little doubt he would have
succeeded, but he was prevented by Wilson, who obstinately resolved that he
himself should hazard the experiment. This circumstance seems to have
operated powerfully on the mind of the criminal, who now accused himself as
the more immediate cause of his companion's fate. The Tolbooth stood near
to St Giles' Church; it was customary at that time for criminals to be
conducted on the last Sunday they had to live to church to hear their last
sermon preached, and, in accordance with this practice, Wilson and
Robertson were, upon Sunday the 11th of April, carried from prison to the
place of worship. They were not well settled there, when Wilson boldly
attempted to break out, by wrenching himself out of the hands of the four
armed soldiers. Finding himself disappointed in this, his next care was to
employ the soldiers till Robertson should escape; this he effected by
securing two of them in his arms, and after calling out, "_Run, Geordie,
run for your life_!" snatched hold of a third with his teeth. Thereupon
Robertson, after tripping up the heels of the fourth soldier, jumped out of
the pew, and ran over the tops of the seats with incredible agility, the
audience opening a way for him sufficient to receive them both; in hurrying
out at the south gate of the church, he stumbled over the collection money.
Thence he reeled and staggered through the Parliament Close, and got down
the back stairs, which have now disappeared, often stumbling by the way,
and thus got into the Cowgate, some of the town-guard being close after
him. He crossed the Cowgate, ran up the Horse Wynd, and proceeded along the
Potterrow, the crowd all the way covering his retreat, and by this time
become so numerous, that it was dangerous for the guard to look after him.
In the Horse Wynd there was a horse saddled, which he would have mounted,
but was prevented by the owner. Passing the Crosscauseway, he got into the
King's Park, and took the Duddingstone road, but seeing two soldiers
walking that way, he jumped the dyke and made for Clear Burn. On coming
there, hearing a noise about the house, he stopt short, and, repassing the
dyke, he retook the route for Duddingstone, under the rocks. When he
crossed the dyke at Duddingstone, he fainted away; but, after receiving
some refreshment, the first he had tasted for three days, he passed out of
town, and, soon after getting a horse, he rode off, and was not afterwards
heard of, notwithstanding a diligent search.
Upon Robertson's getting out of the church door, Wilson was immediately
carried out without hearing sermon, and put in close confinement to prevent
his escape, which the audience seemed much inclined to favour.
Notwithstanding his surprising escape, Robertson came back about a
fortnight afterwards, and called at a certain house in the neighbourhood of
Edinburgh. Being talked to by the landlord touching the risk he ran by his
imprudence, and told that, if caught, he would suffer unpitied as a madman,
he answered, that as he thought himself indispensably bound to pay the last
duties to his beloved friend, Andrew Wilson, he had been hitherto detained
in the country, but that he was determined to steer another course soon. He
was resolved, however, not to be hanged, pointing to some weapons he had
about him.
It was strongly surmised that plots were laid for favouring Wilson's
escape. It was well known that no blood had been shed at the robbery; that
all the money and effects had been recovered, except a mere trifle; that
Wilson had suffered severely in the seizure of his goods on several
occasions by the revenue officers; and that, however erroneous the idea, he
thought himself justified in making reprisals. Besides, Wilson's conduct
had excited a very great sympathy in his favour; and the crime for which he
was condemned was considered very venial at that time by the populace, who
hated the malt-tax, and saw no more harm in smuggling, or in robbing a
collector of excise, than in any matter of trifling importance. The
magistrates of Edinburgh, in order to defeat all attempts at a rescue,
lodged the executioner the day previous in the Tolbooth, to prevent his
being carried off; the sentinels were doubled outside the prison; the
officers of the trained bands were ordered to attend the execution,
likewise the city constables with their batons; the whole city-guard,
having ammunition distributed to them, were marched to the place of
execution with screwed bayonets, and, to make all sure, at desire of the
lord provost, a battalion of the Welch Fusiliers, commanded by commissioned
officers, marched up the streets of the city, and took up a position on
each side of the Lawnmarket; whilst another body of that corps was placed
under arms at the Canongate guard. A little before two o'clock, Porteous
came to receive Wilson, the prisoner, from the captain of the city prison.
He was in a terrible rage, first against Wilson, who had affronted his
soldiers, and next against the mob, who were charmed with Wilson's generous
action in the church, and had favoured Robertson's escape. They are always
on the side of humanity and mercy, unless they are engaged themselves.
Porteous was also infuriated because the Welch Fusiliers had been brought
to the Canongate, as if he and his guard had not been sufficient to keep
down any riot within the city. The manacles were too little for Wilson's
wrists, who was a strong, powerful man; when the hangman could not make
them meet, Porteous flew furiously to them, and squeezed the poor man, who
cried piteously during the operation, till he got them to meet, to the
exquisite torture of the miserable prisoner, who told him he could not
entertain one serious thought, so necessary to one in his condition, under
such intolerable pain. "No matter," said Porteous, "your torment will soon
be at an end." "Well," said Wilson, "you know not how soon you may be
placed in my condition; God Almighty forgive you as I do."
This cruel conduct of Porteous' still more embittered the minds of the
populace, who were sufficiently exasperated against him before, and the
report of it was soon spread over town and country.
Porteous conducted Wilson to the gallows, where he died very penitent, but
expressing more sorrow on account of the common frailties of life, than the
crime for which he suffered. His body was given to his friends, who carried
it over to Pathhead in Fife, where it was interred; George Robertson
having, as we have seen, rashly attended the funeral before going abroad.
During the melancholy procession of the criminal and his guard, accompanied
by the magistrates, ministers, and others from the Old Tolbooth, which
stood in the Lawnmarket, to the scaffold, which was placed in the
Grassmarket, there was not the slightest appearance of a riot, nor after
Wilson had been suspended, until life was extinct, did the least
manifestation of disturbance occur on the part of a vast crowd of people
collected from town and country to witness the execution. The magistrates
of Edinburgh had retired from the scaffold to a house close by--concluding,
with reason, that as all was over with poor Wilson, no disturbance could
then happen, and the executioner was actually on the top of the ladder,
cutting Wilson down, when a few idle men and boys began to throw pebbles,
stones, or garbage at him (a common practice at that time,) thinking he was
treating the affair rather ludicrously; whereupon Captain Porteous, who was
in very bad humour, became highly incensed, and instantly resented, by
commanding the city-guard, without the slightest authority from the
magistrates, and without reading the riot act or proclamation according to
law, to fire their muskets, loaded with ball, and by firing his own fuzee
among the crowd, by which four persons were killed on the spot, and eleven
wounded, many of them dangerously, who afterwards died. The magistrates,
ministers, and constables, who had retired to the first storey of a house
fronting the street, were themselves in danger of being killed, a ball, as
was discovered afterwards, having grazed the side of the window where they
stood. The lord provost and magistrates immediately convened, and ordered
Captain Porteous to be apprehended and brought before them for examination;
after taking a precognition, his lordship committed Porteous to close
imprisonment for trial for the crime of murder; and, next day, fifteen
sentinels of the guard were also committed to prison, it clearly appearing,
after a careful examination of the firelocks of the party, that they were
the persons who had discharged their pieces among the crowd.
On the 25th of March 1736, Captain Porteous was put on trial, at the
instance of the lord-advocate of Scotland, before the High Court of
Justiciary, for the murder of Charles Husband, and twelve other persons, on
the 14th of April preceding, being the day of the execution of Andrew
Wilson; and after sundry steps of procedure, having been found, by the
unanimous voice of the jury, guilty, he was, on the 20th of July following,
sentenced to suffer death in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh, on Wednesday the
8th of September in the same year--that was, about five months after
Wilson's execution.
On the 26th of August, the Duke of Newcastle, one of the secretaries of
state, wrote a letter to the right honourable the lord justice-general,
justice-clerk, and other lords of justiciary, of which the following is a
copy:--"My lords, application having been made to her Majesty[G] in the
behalf of John Porteous, late captain-lieutenant of the city-guard of
Edinburgh, a prisoner under sentence of death in the gaol of that city, I
am commanded to signify to your lordships her Majesty's pleasure, that the
execution of the sentence pronounced against the said John Porteous be
respited for six weeks from the time appointed for his execution. I am, my
lords, your lordships' most obedient, humble servant, (Signed) Holles,
Newcastle."
On receipt of this letter, the lords of justiciary granted warrant to the
magistrates of Edinburgh for stopping the execution of Porteous till the
20th day of October following.
The effect of this respite on the minds of the people of Scotland was to
induce the belief that the government did not intend to carry out the
sentence of death against Porteous at all--that it was merely a
preliminary step to his pardon and liberation--and that, so far from
condemning him, the government had rather taken up a prejudice against the
town of Edinburgh, on account of the proceedings, and in some measure
against all Scotland. A number of persons, therefore, who were never
discovered, resolved to take the matter into their own hands, and on the
7th of September 1736, a body of strangers, supposed to be from the
counties of Fife, Stirling, Perth, and Dumfries, many of them landed
gentlemen, entered the West Port of Edinburgh between nine and ten o'clock
at night, and having seized the Portsburgh drummer by the way, brought
along his drum with them, and his son. Some of them advancing up into the
Grassmarket, commanded the drummer's son to beat to arms. They then called
out, "Here! all those who dare to avenge innocent blood!" This probably
was a signal for their associates to fall in. It was followed by instantly
shutting up the gates of the city, posting guards at each, and flying
sentinels at all places where a surprise might be expected, while a
separate detachment threw themselves upon and disarmed the city-guard; and
seizing the drum, beat about the High Street to notify their success so
far at least. At that instant, a body of them proceeded to the Tolbooth,
called for the keeper, and finding he was gone, fell a-breaking the door
with fore-hammers; but making no great progress in that way, they got
together a parcel of dried broom, whins, with other combustibles, and
heaps of timber, and a barrel of pitch, all previously provided for the
purpose, and taking the flambeaux or torches from the city officers, they
set fire to the pile. When the magistrates appeared, they repulsed them
with showers of stones, and threatened, if they continued in the streets
and offered resistance, they would discharge platoons of fire-arms among
them; and it is even reported they placed sentinels on the magistrates to
watch their motions.
Upon the prison door taking fire, two gentlemen made up to the rioters, and
remonstrated with them on the imminent danger of setting the whole
neighbourhood on fire, insinuating that this outrage was likely to be
deeply resented, and might bring them to trouble; to which it was answered
that they should take care no damage should be done to the city, and that
as to the rest, they knew their business, and that they (the gentlemen)
might go about theirs.
Before the prison door was burnt down, several persons rushed through the
flames, ran up stairs, demanded the keys from the keepers; and though they
could scarcely see one another for the smoke, got into Captain Porteous'
apartment, calling, "Where is the murdering villain?" He is said to have
answered, "Gentlemen, I am here; but what are you going to do with me?"
When they answered, "We are to carry you to the place where you shed so
much innocent blood, and hang you." He begged for mercy, but they instantly
seized and pulled him to the door in his bed-gown and cap; and as he
struggled, they caught him by the legs and dragged him to the foot of the
stair, while others set all the rest of the prisoners in the Tolbooth at
liberty. As soon as Porteous was brought to the street, he was set on his
feet, and some seized him by the breast, while others pushed behind. He was
thus conducted to the Bow-head, where they stopped a moment, at the
pressing solicitation of some of the citizens, on the pretence that he
might die peaceably, but really that time might be gained, as they expected
the Welch Fusiliers every moment from the Canongate, or that the garrison
of the Castle would come to Porteous' relief. By this time some who
appeared to be the leaders in the enterprise ordered him to march, and he
was hurried down the Bow and to the gallows stone, where he was to
kneel,--to confess his manifold sins and wickedness, particularly the
destruction of human life he had committed in that place, and to offer up
his petitions to Almighty God for mercy on his soul. After which, in a very
few minutes, he was led to the fatal tree. A halter being wanting, they
broke open a shop in the Grassmarket, and took out a coil of ropes, for
which they left a guinea on the counter,[H] and threw the one end over a
dyer's cross-trees close by the place of execution. On seeing the rope,
Porteous made remonstrances, and caught hold of the tree, but being
disengaged they set him down, and as the noose was about to be put over his
head, he appeared to gather fresh spirit, struggling and wrenching his head
and body. Here again some citizens appeared for him, telling that the
troops being now in full march, they must all expect to be sacrificed, and
that the artillery of the Castle would doubtless be discharged among them.
They answered, "No man will die till his time come."
About a quarter of an hour before twelve they put the rope about his neck,
and ordered him to be pulled up; which being done, observing his hands
loose, he was let down again; after tying his hands he was hauled up a
second time, but after a short space, having wrought one of his arms loose,
he was let down once more, in order to tie it up and cover his face.
Stripping him of one of the shirts he had on, they wrapped it about his
head, and got him up a third time with loud huzzas and a ruff of the drum.
After he had hung a long time, they nailed the rope to the tree; then
formally saluting one another, grounding their arms, and another ruff of
the drum, they separated, retired out of town, and numbers of them were
seen riding off in bodies well mounted to different quarters, leaving the
body hanging till near five next morning.
Neither the two gentlemen who conversed with the rioters at the Tolbooth,
nor those who were sent out by the magistrates to see if they knew any of
them, could say they had ever seen any one of them before, though the
flames of the fire at the Tolbooth door rendered it as light as noonday;
so that it was generally believed no citizen acted any principal part in
the tragedy; though, indeed, it is certain that many of the burgesses and
inhabitants of Edinburgh, led by curiosity, went to the streets to behold
the surprising boldness and incredible extravagance of the scene.
Upon the whole, it would seem that the rioters were a body of gentlemen and
others in disguise, some having masons' aprons, others joiners', fleshers',
shoemakers', dyers', and those of other trades, who had concerted their
plot with judgment, conducted it with secresy, executed it with resolution
and manly daring, and completed the whole in the short space of two hours
with unparalleled success.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] The inn or house here referred to is now demolished. It was a back
house which stood behind Mr Thomas Foggo's shop, through which there was a
passage or entry to it; and from its concealed and backlying situation, it
would seem to have been a very likely place for smugglers to resort to with
their contraband goods. And here it may be remarked, that less than 100
years ago, smuggling was very prevalent in the east of Fife; almost every
merchant and trader in the east coast burghs, and farmers from St Andrews
all along the southeast coast, were less or more concerned in the
importation of brandy, gin, teas, silks, and tobacco, &c. The penalties at
one time were only the forfeiture of the goods seized, and if one vessel's
cargo escaped out of two or three, it was a profitable trade. The measures
of Government were then thought to be so stringent and despotic, that men
of principle, of probity, and integrity in all other respects, manifested
great obliquity of vision in viewing the traffic in smuggled goods, and
felt no compunctious visitings in embarking in that trade. In the better
class of houses in the district, hiding holes and places of concealment
were always to be found, and some of these places are only now being
discovered. It is not many years since, that an honest man in Pittenweem,
while employed in his cellar, fell down into a large concealment capable of
holding a great many ankers of spirits and boxes of tea, of which he
previously knew nothing.
[D] The window referred to is still pointed out. It is that at the back of
the house on the second storey, and is near the north-east corner of the
tenement.
[E] Anstruther House, which stood a little west, on the opposite side of
the road, to Mr Russell's printing office, was demolished in 1811.
According to Miss Strickland, Queen Mary passed a night in it; and it is a
well established fact that King Charles II. lodged a night there in 1651.
[F] Bailie Johnston's house was that now occupied by Mr William Russell,
with the brewery behind the same. It was formerly a house of one storey,
and was rebuilt and heightened on the walls by the late Mr James Rodger, or
Mr David Rodger his son.
[G] This was Queen Caroline, who was regent of the kingdom during the
absence of her husband, George the First, at Hanover.
[H] The person who did this was a man of the name of Bruce, belonging to
Anstruther, who returned some time after to the town, and was well known to
the late Mrs Black, the mother of the late Admiral Black.
THE STORY OF CHARLES GORDON AND CHRISTINA CUNNINGHAM.
On the 21st of March, 1743, Captain Richard Dundas, commander of the
frigate _Arethusa_, carrying forty-four guns and 250 men, sailed from
Deptford with that vessel in perfect order and condition, and bound for
Leith. The ship was one of the finest in the service, and the commander a
man of great energy and intelligence. Mr Charles Gordon, superintendent of
his Majesty's dockyard at Deptford, a young officer of distinguished
ability and exemplary character, was one of the passengers. No incident
worthy of notice occurred until they reached St Abb's Head, when they were
overtaken with a strong adverse gale of wind and heavy snow storm, which
unfortunately drove them from their course, and prevented sight of land for
a considerable time. The wind continued to increase in violence, but the
snow ceased falling for a little, when it was discovered that they had been
driven past the mouth of the Firth of Forth and were now in St Andrews Bay.
They then close-reefed their sails, and made all snug; and Captain Dundas,
declaring that they should have to encounter a strong south-easter, all
their efforts were directed to double the headland of Fifeness and the
dreaded Carr Rock, and get into the Forth; but their utmost endeavours were
unavailing, so that the best part of a day was spent in tacking and veering
to, close in with the land, to no purpose.
The sun set angrily, and the wind veering more adversely, to their utter
dismay, brought them on a lee shore. The storm increased with the night.
The snow began again to fall, and neither the stars nor the lights of Tay
or of the Firth could be seen. The sea was lashed into tremendous fury.
There was a fearful sullen sound of rushing waves and broken surges--"Deep
called unto deep." At times the black volume of clouds overhead seemed rent
asunder by flashes of lightning that quivered along the foaming billows,
and made the succeeding darkness doubly terrible. The thunders bellowed
over the wild waste of waters, and were echoed and prolonged by the
mountain-like waves. As the ship was seen staggering and plunging among
these roaring caverns, it seemed miraculous that she regained her balance,
or preserved her buoyancy. Her yards dipped into the water--her bow was
buried almost beneath the waves. Sometimes an impending surge appeared
ready to overwhelm her, and nothing but a dexterous movement of the helm
preserved her from the shock.
"The impervious horrors of a leeward shore" they were doomed to experience
during a moonless and starless night. They reduced their sails to a few
yards of canvass, and lowered their yards on deck. The waves, that rolled
the vessel with irresistible force, threatened to swallow them up; a
tremendous sea carried away the boat which was hoisted up at the stern, and
broke in all the bulkheads of the quarters. For safety of lives and
property, all hands, after being revived with a glass of rum, began to
throw overboard the guns. The long-boat was then released from her
lashings; and, as they wished, the waves soon swept her from the deck. The
two large anchors were cut from the bows, and the vessel, thus eased of a
heavy top-load, danced more lightly over the tremendous billows, and
inspired them with fresh hopes. The crew were all ordered to the after part
of the deck, and again refreshed with another glass of rum and water.
A little before daylight, the captain, who had been anxiously looking out,
acquainted the officers, so as not to be heard by the crew, that he saw
breakers nearly ahead, and had no thought of being able to weather them. Mr
Gordon coincided in this opinion, to which some one said, "Well, we are all
born to die; I shall go with regret, but certainly not with fear."
The breakers were soon visible to all the crew, being not more than a
quarter of a mile distant on the lee bow, when Captain Dundas remarked,
"Our only chance is to put away a point before the wind, or we are sure to
go broadside into the surf and perish at once."
A heavy sea now struck the vessel, swept the deck fore and aft, and carried
overboard five of the crew, who instantly sank to rise no more.