mentioned; and that of Hare has also been described in terms
sufficiently glowing by the Counsel for M‘Dougal. Hare is indeed one
of the most squalid-looking wretches we have ever seen; and when he
gave his evidence, he had a sinister expression in his look which
made his presence peculiarly revolting. After being warned not to
answer any questions which might criminate himself, except with
regard to the murder of Docherty, instead of answering Mr. Cockburn’s
interrogatories, he repeatedly gave a silent diabolical nod with his
head; and on his way from the witness-box to the Lock-up-house in
the custody of the macer, he had a look of evident satisfaction in
his imagined escape; and he even chatted and conducted himself with
the most hardened levity. He repeatedly, when giving his evidence,
distinguished Docherty by the contemptuous appellation of “the old
wife.” His appearance betokens the greatest effrontery, while
it is altogether that of a low blackguard; and all his demeanour
fully justifies Mr. Cockburn’s account of him as an embodiment of
“penury and profligacy.” His wife is a short, stout, round-faced and
fresh-complexioned personage, but withal has a look of coarse and
determined brutality, fitting her to be a suitable consort to such
a mate. From their demeanour and aspect it is perhaps less to be
marvelled at that some of the jury, led away also by the eloquence of
the Dean of Faculty and Mr. Cockburn, should have been unwilling to
convict even Burke on the testimony of such wretches to whom falsehood
seemed more familiar than truth.
The honest Irishman Gray, and his wife, to whom alone the public are
indebted for the disclosure of this base murder, and the exposure
of the gang of miscreants engaged in this trade of blood, forms an
interesting contrast to the party with whom their miseries made them
for a time bed-fellows. And when it is known, that in addition to the
temptation for concealment which their poverty and the promised reward
for secrecy supplied, there was the additional one of screening a near
relation, their honesty assumes a higher character. Hitherto they have
not met with the applause nor the reward to which their integrity
and valuable services entitle them. They both gave their testimony
with a clearness and precision, and in a manner which bespoke a clear
conscience, and no one could see and hear them without sympathising
sincerely with these poor but honest people, whose destitution
subjected them and their child to repose on the bloody bed of straw,
on which perhaps they were destined, at no distant period, to have
perished, if they had not been providentially the means of bringing
those hidden deeds to light. It has been well observed, that the
fiendish gang gave a powerful though unwilling testimony to their
uncorrupted honesty when they found it necessary to put them out of the
way until their deeds of darkness were perpetrated.[2]
* * * * *
Blame has sometimes been cast upon the periodical press for raising a
popular excitement by exaggerated statements. In this case, no such
charge could be made. The press, up to the time of the trial, remained
nearly silent, and the dreadful and revolting crimes then divulged
were beyond the conceptions almost of the most fertile imagination.
Popular feeling was however excited; and the interest universally
expressed, has seldom been equalled in intensity. At an early hour
in the morning, the avenues to the Court were crowded; judicious
arrangements had been made for the jurymen, witnesses, and those who
were concerned, procuring admittance by private entrances; and due
precautions used to prevent a rush and inconvenient crowding into the
Court. Still, however, the court-room, which is small, was excessively
crowded; and although very few were suffered to pass the cordons of
policemen, who guarded the approaches, it continued in this state
till the result was known. The usual good nature and sympathy towards
a criminal were laid aside in this instance, and a universal desire
seemed to pervade all classes, that both pannels should be convicted,
and a regret that Hare also and his guilty partner could not share the
same fate. All day, the streets in the neighbourhood of the Parliament
Square were thronged by anxious groupes, who eagerly questioned those
proceeding from the Court as to the progress of the trial, and their
reports speedily found their way to the remotest parts of the city.
The imperfect rumours of the objection made to the relevancy of the
indictment, and the subsequent account of its being confined to one
charge, seemed to create a fear that the criminals were about to
elude the grasp of the law on some technical grounds. Had such been
the case, a popular tumult from the reckless, unthinking part of the
assemblage appeared an inevitable consequence. Towards the evening, the
numbers increased; and about nine o’clock, a gang of blackguard men
and boys proceeded to Dr. Knox’s class-room, in Surgeons’ Square, for
the purpose of destruction. By this time the high constables, and the
other bodies of constables, joined to the ordinary police force, were
in readiness, and the steady front that was exhibited quickly induced
the assailants to withdraw. Some of the mob proceeded to the college,
and broke a few panes of glass in the windows of Dr. Monro’s class-room
and the neighbouring rooms; but the arrival of a party of constables
and policemen speedily stopped their proceedings here also. During
part of the night, the concourse continued; but as the inclemency of
the weather continued, and the night advanced, without bringing a
prospect of a speedy conclusion, the people gradually dispersed. The
hour to which the proceedings were protracted, allowed time for them to
reassemble next morning, and with renewed patience wait the conclusion.
Hasty inquiries about the result were made by those citizens who had
spent the night comfortably in bed, and were now proceeding to their
places of business, of those coming from the direction of the Court,
and whose jaded and pale appearance betokened that they had either
been employed in some capacity, or had been so fortunate as to obtain
a hearing of the interesting proceeding at the expense of a night’s
rest. The citizens of Edinburgh are by no means blood-thirsty, and,
on ordinary occasions, would rejoice to learn that a fellow-being had
escaped the fearful death that the law adjudges to great criminals; but
in this case there was expressed a universal feeling of satisfaction,
and if at all alloyed, it was by the knowledge that the woman, who was
considered equally guilty, should not have been equally punished. It
seemed as if the enormity of their offences had stopped the channels of
pity, and an unanimous requisition for vengeance was made by a whole
population.
The offices of the newspapers published on that day were beset by eager
purchasers, and the presses kept constantly at work could scarcely
supply the unceasing demand. It has been computed, that eight thousand
copies, in addition to their ordinary circulation, were sold in one
week by the Edinburgh newspapers alone.
A general outcry has been raised for the blood of the miscreant Hare,
and if he, who is believed to have been the author and principal
actor in so many murders, be suffered to escape, it will be to the
disappointment of the public; every confidence, is, however, felt in
the Lord Advocate. He, it is understood, is still actively prosecuting
his inquiries, and as long as the ruffian and his wife are detained
in custody, hopes are cherished that it is with a view of putting
them upon their trial. Discussions have taken place as to the policy
and legality of such a course, some of which will be found in the
subsequent parts of this work. It is not our part to decide upon the
question, but apparently nothing will allay the public ferment until
either a resolution to sift the matter regarding them to the bottom be
promulgated, or some official annunciation of its impracticability be
made public.
CONDUCT IN LOCK-UP-HOUSE.
After the trial, Burke and M‘Dougal were removed to the Lock-up-house;
Hare and his wife followed, and were lodged in different apartments.
Burke had hardly been seated, when looking round, he said to the
officers who had him in charge, “this is a ---- cold place you have
brought me till.” The officers had been long inured to moral turpitude,
to bacchanalian frenzy, and wickedness of every description; but lying,
as he then was, under sentence of an ignominious death, for a crime of
unparalleled atrocity, his unseemly levity struck them with horror,
and one of them rebuked him sharply for his conduct. Burke stated,
that from the moment he heard that Hare had been admitted an evidence,
he was aware that escape was impossible, and he was prepared for the
worst. It was stated to him, that as he had for some time lived a
life of unexampled wickedness, a fair confession of his crimes, and
an accurate account of his life, might be read with interest, and be
of service to mankind; he replied that he would make no confession
whatever till he had consulted his priest on the subject. He stated,
that he considered Hare was the most guilty of the two; for, said he,
“he murdered the first woman, he persuaded me to join him, and now he
has murdered me, and I will regret to the last hour of my existence
that he did not share the same fate.” One of the officers stated, in
Burke’s hearing, “I think I could never wish to see that man forgiven
who could murder that poor harmless good-natured idiot, Daft Jamie.”
Here the wretched man stared intently on the officer, and replied with
peculiar emphasis, “My days are numbered--I am soon to die by the hands
of man--I have no more to fear, and can now have no interest in telling
a lie, and I declare that I am as innocent of Daft Jamie’s blood as
you are. He was taken into Hare’s house, and murdered by him and his
wife; to be sure I was guilty in so far, for I assisted to carry the
body to ----, and got a share of the money.”
He stated, in answer to direct questions of course, that it was the
general plan to look after poor and wretched strangers, who were not
likely to be inquired after by any person of consequence; but promptly
refused to state, till he had consulted his priest, whether or not he
had been concerned in any other murders than those with which he was
charged in the indictment, or whether he was in the practice of going
to the country for the purpose of enticing poor wanderers to his house.
He gave rather a different account of the mode in which he put the poor
woman Campbell to death, from that given by his accomplice Hare. He
stated, that after the sham fight was over, she was thrown down on her
back; that Hare seized her by the legs; that he forced the mouth of a
bottle into her throat, and poured down whisky till she was choaked
or nearly so, and that he himself then sat down upon her, stopping
up her nose and mouth so completely that she died in a few minutes.
About three o’clock, he inquired if he might be permitted to offer up
a short prayer; his request was instantly granted, and the unhappy
man prayed with great fervour for a few minutes. In the course of his
prayer, he implored forgiveness for the wicked life he had led, and
more especially for the great crime for which he was about to suffer
on the gibbet. He also entreated that his wretched partner in guilt
might be brought to a full sense of the crimes of which she had been
guilty,--that she might repent, and atone, as far as it was in her
power to do so in this world, by a life of quietness, piety, and honest
industry. At his request, the officer read about half a dozen chapters
of the Scriptures, to which he paid great attention, occasionally
saying, “That passage touches keenly on my crimes.” When preparations
were making for his removal to the jail on the Calton-hill, he
requested the officers to visit him in the prison. On being informed
that there would be no admittance to him, he said, “Well, well, though
I should never see you again, you will see me on the 28th January, at
the head of Libberton’s Wynd. I have now only five weeks to live, and
I will not weary greatly for that day.” While in the Lock-up-house, he
expressed the greatest dread of the heavy irons in the condemned cell.
On reaching the jail, however, he was secured in the usual way, and
every possible precaution will be used lest he should in some degree
defeat the ends of justice by suicide, and add self-destruction to the
appalling list of murders to which he has been accessary. No person
has since been permitted to hold any conversation with him, except
his spiritual instructors. Though he has been brought up in the Roman
Catholic faith, and has intimated his resolution to die a member of
the church, in a belief of whose principles he has been educated, he
receives the visits of the Rev. Messrs. Porteous and Marshall, with
the same pleasure he does those of the Rev. Gentlemen of his own
persuasion. He pays due attention to their exhortations--reads the
Bible or some religious book constantly in their absence, and is making
every preparation for the great and awful change which he must soon
undergo.
* * * * *
The woman M‘Dougal, upon her release from the Lock-up-House, in which
she had been detained for two days for her personal protection, had the
audacity or folly to proceed to her old haunts in the West Port, and
even to venture to the street. She was quickly recognised, and a mob
collecting, was in danger of being roughly handled. Fortunately for
her, the proximity of the place to the police watch-office, enabled
protection to be immediately afforded, and with some difficulty she
was conveyed to the watch-house. The mob increased to a somewhat
alarming size for the slender force that was stationed there, and the
officers had to resort to an expedient to prevent an assault. A ladder
was placed at a back window, by which it was pretended that she had
descended; this induced the populace to depart, when she was escorted
to the head office. Since then she has been several times exposed to
similar danger, and as often rescued by the police officers. Finding
the lower classes too much exasperated to allow her to live in safety
in Edinburgh, she left it, and proceeded to the village of Redding in
Stirlingshire, where her father is now settled. It is said that she
has since left that village, and is living in Glasgow with Constantine
Burke.
On Sunday, after her confinement in the Lock-up as formerly detailed,
this wretched woman related a horrible, but a plausible story, to one
of the subalterns of authority. She stated, that one night Burke and
Hare were carousing in one of the apartments of Hare’s human shambles,
on the profit of a recent murder. In the midst of their unhallowed
orgies, Hare raised his hand, and in a fit of fiendish exultation,
stated that they could never want money, for, when they were at a loss
for “a shot,” (a body for dissection,) they would murder and sell,
first one and then the other of their own wives. Being in the adjoining
apartment, the females overheard, and were petrified by this horrible
resolution, as they had every reason to be assured that the monsters
would certainly carry it into effect. A discussion of some length
ensued, and Hare finally succeeded in persuading Burke to consent,
that when the dreaded emergency did arrive, M‘Dougal should be the
first victim. Hence, this woman may be supposed to have run as imminent
a risk of a violent death by the hands of her inhuman husband, as she
did of an ignominious end on the gallows.
* * * * *
ANOTHER ACCOUNT.
When Burke was removed from the Court-room to the Lock-up house, he was
considerably agitated, and throwing himself upon his knees, addressed
a prayer to God, whom he had so grievously offended. During the rest
of the day he was composed, and even spoke cheerfully to the policeman
who had the charge of him. He expressed his joy at the acquittal of
M‘Dougal. He also said that the Irishwoman was murdered, not by him,
but by Hare, in the manner described in Hare’s testimony; but admitted
that, during the shocking operation he held her hands. He confessed
that he had participated in many more murders than those he had been
indicted for; and said, that after his mind was composed, he would
make disclosures which would implicate several others besides Hare and
his wife, in the same crimes as those for which he was doomed to die.
He was asked how did he feel when he was pursuing his most horrible
avocation? He replied, that in his waking moments he had no feeling,
but that when he slept he had frightful dreams, which previously he had
been unaccustomed to. The fact is, that when awake, by means of ardent
spirits, he steeped his senses in forgetfulness; and his excessive use
of spirits accounts for his absolute penury at the time of his being
apprehended. He expressed a wish that one of his Counsel, whom he
mentioned, would call upon him, that he might furnish him with notes
of his life and adventures, as he was desirous to have his history
published. At night he had short fits of sleep, during which he raved,
but his expressions were inarticulate, and he grinded his teeth in the
most fearful manner. Whenever he awoke he was in a frantic state, but
always recovered his composure; and in the course of the evening he
read two chapters of the Bible. At two o’clock on Friday morning he was
removed in a coach to the Calton Hill Jail, and put upon the gad.
* * * * *
CONDUCT IN JAIL.
Burke since he went to Jail has been remarkably composed and devout.
He has observed that he is by no means a bigot in religion; that
besides Popish churches, he had, when a soldier, attended Presbyterian,
Episcopalian, and Methodist ones, with the peculiar tenets of all which
he appears to be perfectly conversant. He says that he has received
instruction from good men of every faith; and that “real repentance and
a strong belief,” are sufficient to ensure salvation.
He mentioned at first that he would wish to have a clergyman to attend
him; and upon being asked of what persuasion he would like him to be,
expressed indifference upon that point, but wished only one who would
point out the way to salvation. He received the visits of the Reverend
Mr. Marshall, minister of the Tolbooth Church, with whose ministrations
he expressed himself much satisfied, and of the Reverend Mr. Porteous,
chaplain of the Jail. One day Mr. Marshall, and the Reverend Mr.
Stuart, Catholic priest, called to see him; and upon being asked which
he would wish to converse with, he replied that he would have both; he
has also received visits from the Reverend Bishop Paterson, and the
Reverend Mr. Reid, Catholic priests; latterly, since the visits of
clergymen of his own persuasion, he has declined those of Mr. Marshall,
and they have consequently been discontinued. Whether it be that the
horrors of his wretched death have been mitigated in the contemplation
by the familiarity with it, which time must produce after the first
shuddering sensations have passed away and left a comparatively
apathetic calmness, certain it is, that he now displays less concern
about the sin than he did during the first few days; he is penitent
because his crimes have been detected and punishment awarded; but were
not this the case, in all probability he would think little of the
heinousness of the offences.
He continues to be particularly anxious that his associate Hare should
be brought to trial, and receive the punishment he merits for his
misdeeds, but asserts that it is not from any vindictive or revengeful
feeling that he cherishes towards him, but from motives of humanity.
When conversing lately upon the subject, he stated his perfect
conviction, that if Hare should again be let loose upon society, he
would recommence his murderous career when he wanted money; at the same
time he declared that he was afraid the spirits of his future victims
would reproach him in the regions of bliss, for not having taken means
to get Hare executed, and thereby preventing their violent and untimely
deaths.
A day or two after conviction he sent his watch and what money he
possessed to M‘Dougal; and when informed that his mission was executed,
expressed satisfaction, and observed, “poor thing it is all I have to
give her, it will be of some use to her, and I will not need it.” He
speaks in terms of great affection towards her, and anticipates that
she will be allowed to have an interview with him before he suffers.
He is free and communicative to those who are necessarily about him,
though strangers coming from motives of curiosity are excluded. Had
liberty been afforded to the turnkeys to admit those who came, they
might have cleared a handsome sum: so much as two guineas has been
offered for admittance. He is watched day and night: and throughout
the night it is ascertained every half hour that the watchman does not
slumber at his post. Any thing by which self-destruction could possibly
be effected is sedulously kept out of his way.
He is afflicted with a cancer which has been incorrectly stated to
have been produced by a bite from Daft Jamie. It is of long standing,
and distresses him much, and would, in all probability, have ended his
days at no distant period, if he had escaped the gallows; and there is
little doubt that Hare would have had no compunction in transferring
his comrade’s body to the dissecting-rooms, as well as those he had
so frequently trafficked in. This sore keeps him in great pain, and
along with some of the adjuncts of prison fare and treatment, tends
to divert his mind from his spiritual state to his bodily discomfort.
The condemned cell, as he observed, is but a comfortless place, cold
and cheerless and dreary, where hope, at least in such a case as his,
never enters to enliven it; chained in such a place to the gad--much
confinement to bed is necessary to produce a little warmth, especially
at this season; while coarse bread and cold water are but unpalatable
food for one who was accustomed to spend his profligate gains in
debauchery and drunkenness. The very deprivation of ardent spirits
must be felt as an intolerable grievance, and while it is properly
withheld, food, that could in some degree supply the craving for
stimulants that such a long course of indulgence cannot fail to have
produced, might surely be afforded. It is not from any notion that his
appetite should be pampered that we mention this, but from a desire
that a man in his awful situation, standing on the brink of eternity,
and to whom a few calm days may be of eternal import, should not have
his mind distracted by any needless bodily mortifications. The law in
this part of the island humanely allows a period for the purpose of
giving an opportunity of repentance to the criminal, and time to make
up his peace with God, while it at the same time annexes conditions
which in some degree renders the indulgence nugatory for the purpose.
The statute is a British one, and probably the legislators did not
contemplate that an interval of six weeks should be spent upon this
hard regimen.
Captain Rose, the Governor of the Jail, does all that humanity dictates
to alleviate his situation.
* * * * *
HARE’S BEHAVIOUR.
When the officers were removing Hare from the Courthouse to the
Calton-hill jail, he is reported, to the horror even of those men
accustomed to vice in its most hardened and depraved forms, to have
been seized with a fit of diabolical glee at his fancied escape from
justice. There is something awfully appalling in the merriment of a
being who a few minutes before, had, to save himself from a merited
fate on the gallows, by his testimony consigned his guilty partner
to an ignominious death,--the comrade too whom he had lured to the
commission of the crimes, and instructed in the manner of executing
them. It might even have been supposed, that the recollection of the
appearance he made in the witness’ box, when he could only escape from
the avowal of numberless murders, by skulking under the privilege of
his situation, would have prevented his unseasonable mirth. His wife
and he have since been kept in confinement, and inquiries have been
instituted, apparently for the purpose of attempting to prove some of
the numerous charges of murders alleged against him, which, although
unauthenticated and unproved, have assumed such a shape as to be worthy
of official investigation.