and Hare’s cupidity could not be satisfied with this comparatively
innocent method of supplying their wants. They were apparently too
indolent or inexpert, or lacked courage too much, to adopt the ordinary
but hazardous mode of raising the dead from church-yards. Still, with
this easy, and apparently unlimited means of acquiring money opening to
them, they could not betake themselves again to the pursuits of honest
industry; and, stimulated by the greatness of the reward, and the
prospect of their sensual indulgences being so readily gratified, they
formed the desperate resolution of committing murder, and of continuing
to imbrue their hands in their fellow-mortals’ blood, as their ordinary
and sole means of procuring a livelihood.
Before commencing the revolting narrative of their appalling crimes, we
may mention, that previous to the period in which they engaged in them,
their neighbours used to observe them only to notice the squalor and
wretchedness of their appearance; but all at once, there was a sudden
change, and Burke and M‘Dougal especially assumed a different aspect.
They appeared well dressed, and spent money freely. Whisky, which
however much it may be relished, can only be procured at intervals by
men in his situation, seemed to be constantly at their command; and
even credit at a neighbouring spirit-dealer and grocer’s, was obtained,
to an extent that almost no individual in his situation would have
ventured to hope for or request. At this time, Burke mentioned to the
wife of an old acquaintance, whom he met accidentally, that he had
spent fourteen pounds within the last fortnight; and if he had known
where her husband lived, would have been glad to come and spend three
or four pounds in company with him. Of course, all this apparent
affluence was not exhibited, without exciting the speculation of those
who observed it; and they were troublesome in their inquiries into the
secret, that enabled them to live well, and drink continually, without
working. Various were the excuses that were made; for they never
appear to have been at a loss for an answer. On one occasion, when the
question was put to Burke, and suspicions intimated, that he followed
the trade of a resurrection man, he neither would give a denial nor an
affirmative to the proposition, but contented himself with remarking,
that the querist was as bad as the rest. On another, he would ask
Mrs. ---- “Can you keep a secret,” and when the curious inquirer,
expecting to be entrusted with the whole mystery, eagerly answered,
“Yes,” he would reply, with an air of secrecy, that he smuggled a
little small-still whisky.
Nelly M‘Dougal had a different way of accounting for it. She averred
that she had a property in Stirlingshire, which had been left to her by
her former husband, and which produced twenty pounds a year; and that
it was from the rent of it the money came. It was afterwards observed
to her by some of the neighbours, that this story would scarcely
account for their abundant supply of money, as the rents of such
properties, as she described, were usually drawn at definite terms,
and they seemed to get money much more frequently. She then alleged
that the money was the proceeds of a legacy that had been lately left
her, and that she drew part of it when she pleased. To humour this
story, she used to announce to her acquaintances, from time to time,
that their money was expended, and that she had written off for a
fresh supply. In a few days, accordingly, she intimated that the money
had arrived, and new vigour was imparted to their drunken disorderly
courses.
It must be perfectly apparent what the dispatching of the letter meant,
and if these proceedings does not amount to a guilty knowledge and
accession to the murders, so far as knowledge of, and sharing in the
proceeds goes, we do not comprehend what can constitute participation.
At another time she intimated that William [Burke] was the favourite
of a lady in the New Town, who never allowed him to want money, and
sometimes she had known him receive twenty pounds at a time from her.
Burke states, that Hare and he had often talked over the subject of
murder, and had consulted upon the best mode of effecting it. It may
well be credited, as their first essay seems to have been conducted
with as much coolness and deliberation, as much cautious management in
effecting it, and as little compunction in the execution, as if they
already had been adepts in the art. It was perpetrated on an elderly
woman, belonging to the village of Gilmerton, whom Hare had observed a
little intoxicated on the streets. She was a pensioner to a gentleman
in the New Town, from whom she received 1s. 6d. a week. Hare accosted
her, and easily succeeded in enticing her into his house, here they
gave her spirits to drink, and afterwards Mrs. Hare, purchased, for one
shilling and sixpence, a small cann of _kitchen-fee_ which she had
received at the house of the gentleman already mentioned. The price
of it was also laid out in liquor, and the poor woman speedily got
altogether intoxicated, and commenced singing in the exuberance of her
mirth. She told them that she had a very fine young daughter at home,
and, with maternal feeling, was loud in her praises. Hare represented
himself as an unmarried man, and said, that upon her representation,
he would marry her daughter: The poor woman readily consented to the
match, when the heartless fiend, expressed great kindness for her,
and alleged that his bride and he could not live without her, and
that when the daughter came home, she must come to reside with them.
She willingly consented to this arrangement, and expressed herself
quite overjoyed at meeting with such a good provision for herself and
daughter, and promised to return and get the marriage consummated.
They took care to ply her well with liquor, in order that being made
completely drunk, she might remain after the other lodgers had departed
in the morning. Next day, the spirits had the effect, and she was sick
and vomited. The monsters had not abandoned their purpose, however, and
after stupifying her with more whisky, when all the others had left the
house, they put her to death in the way they pursued ever afterwards,
by covering and pressing upon the nose and mouth with their hands. The
body was afterwards conveyed to Surgeons’ Square, and the money readily
obtained for it. This happened in December 1827.
In the whole story, we see none of the hesitations and misgivings of
men engaged in a first attempt, at such a horrible crime; every thing
appears rather like the acts of those, whom long familiarity with a
course of iniquity had rendered completely callous; and yet there does
not seem any sufficient ground for supposing that either of them had
been engaged in such crimes before. Burke asserts strenuously, that
he never was concerned in like transactions, and expresses his belief
that Hare also was guiltless up to this time, so far as he knows, of
the blood of his fellow-creatures; and, after what has happened, he
assuredly will not be much inclined to favour Hare. This opinion is
also corroborated, when we recollect that they proceeded like novices
in the disposal of the pensioner who died naturally.
The next unfortunate victim to be inserted in the horrid catalogue was
an Englishman, a travelling pedlar or _packman_, who had lodged
also in Hare’s house. The process which they had now ascertained to
be most easy and efficacious was also gone through with him. He was
enticed to drink to intoxication at night; and when the house was
cleared, he was suffocated in the usual manner.
Success in these instances made them more eager, and Burke describes
himself at this time as thirsting continually after his prey.
A connected or chronological account of their murders cannot now be
obtained; the copartnery kept no books to which reference can be
made, and were not curious in inquiring into their victims’ names or
circumstances; but such distinctive marks of every one of them has been
furnished, as to enable us to lay before our readers some notice of all
the individuals murdered, though it may not perhaps be exactly in the
order in which they occurred; even in this particular, we believe, it
will be found nearly correct. They in all amounted to sixteen; fewer
than what some have asserted, but far above what any one could have
conceived of before this atrocious system was unveiled. One of this
number was effected by Hare at the time that Burke was absent in the
country; how it was accomplished, remains only known to that demon
himself, as it was only by accident that Burke discovered anything of
it. It has been often said, that there is honour among thieves: this
does not, however, seem to hold good regarding murderers, as Hare
appropriated to himself the price of this subject; and upon being
challenged by Burke for his breach of contract, audaciously asserted
that nothing of the kind had taken place. It was only after his
comrade applied at Surgeons’ Square that the truth transpired. This
is understood to have been the minister’s servant, to which public
attention has been attracted.
Another, and probably the third one sacrificed, was a dissipated
character, who used to infest the Grassmarket and neighbourhood, called
Mary Haldane; she was enticed into the house, and fell an easy prey;
her previous habits caused her readily to imbibe a sufficient quantity
of ardent spirits, and little difficulty was found in despatching her.
It is singular, that among their victims should be ranked a mother and
her daughter, and at different times too, but so it is that the child
of this Mary Haldane was kidnapped into the house where her mother had
been formerly murdered--she was unconscious of her mother’s fate, and
was deprived of life in the same way. She was a woman of the town, and
led a very dissolute life; one of her sisters was transported to Botany
Bay not long before the murder of the mother and sister.
Among the rest, was an old man, who was usually known by the name
of Joe. He had been a miller, but old age and infirmities had
incapacitated him from working at his trade. In an evil hour he entered
Hare’s lodging-house, and never departed from it; he was also plied
with liquor, and when in a drunken slumber, his breath was stopped.
Among the other melancholy stories, there is one of a peculiarly
touching description, which Burke, remorseless as he has been, often
talks of, and deplores as the one that hangs heaviest upon his
conscience. It is that of the poor Irishwoman, and her deaf and dumb
grandson, which has been already noticed, though incorrectly, in the
newspapers. The poor woman, with her helpless charge, had been met
by Hare on the street, and though her circumstances as a destitute
country woman, and the protectress of the helpless boy, might have
melted the hardest heart, he does not seem to have felt any compunction
in marking her and her child out for slaughter. She was invited to
the house, and to her seeming, hospitably entertained. She seemed
perfectly well pleased, and even expressed to them the satisfaction
she felt at her good fortune in meeting with a kind countryman, who
behaved so generously to her, and in whose house she could repose safe
from the dangers of this wicked town. But their feelings could not be
touched by such appeals, and the unfortunate woman was put to death at
night, and allowed to remain in bed as if sick or asleep. The youth
did not comprehend what had taken place, but seemed to imagine that
his grandmother was unwell. Next morning he was, almost charitably,
dispatched also. Burke took him upon his knee, and broke his back. He
describes this murder as the one that lies most heavily upon his heart;
and says that he is constantly haunted by the recollection of the
piteous manner in which the boy looked in his face. The lad was laid
in the bed alongside of his grandmother; and when the time arrived for
conveying them to the dissecting-rooms, the bodies were tumbled into an
old herring barrel.
A curious incident happened in connection with this murder which had
well nigh put a stop to their career, and, in looking back upon the
circumstances now, it appears astonishing that it should not have led
to a complete discovery of their infamous transactions. The herring
barrel containing the two bodies was placed on a cart. An old horse
which Hare possessed, and which he used in his traffic in fish and
crockery-ware was yoked to it, and the two set out at darkening to
Surgeons’ Square with their cargo. They proceeded along the West
Port, without any thing remarkable happening, but when they reached
the market-place at the entrance to the Grassmarket, the horse
stopped, and, notwithstanding all their efforts, would not proceed
a step farther. It may be easily conceived that they were in a sad
quandary, with nothing before them but instant exposure. As Burke has
since said, they “thought the poor old horse had risen up in judgment
against them.” Unfortunately for the public, though luckily for them,
as it gave them a respite for some time longer, the assembled crowd
were so much engaged in attending to the horse, that none of them
thought of inquiring into the contents of the cart; and when it was
ascertained that nothing could induce the horse to move forward,
two porters were allowed to bear off his burden without attracting
particular observation, and, like M‘Culloch, they bore their load to
the dissecting-rooms without being troubled with any scruple upon the
subject, or once venturing to ask either themselves or their employers
what it was composed of. The miserable horse, which it is probable age
and hard usage, and insufficient diet, had arrested in its progress,
rather than any suspicions or unwillingness to comply with the assigned
task, was, in revenge for the fright it had given its masters, and the
trouble it had put them to, led to a neighbouring tannery and shot.
The subjects, however, reached their destination, and, notwithstanding
this untoward event, and the imminent risk the guilty pair had
incurred, the next opportunity found them as eager for slaughter as
if no cause of terror or subject for reflection had occurred: indeed,
by this time probably any feeling of compunction, which appears--if
such ever existed--to have been of a very evanescent description,
had disappeared. They had tasted the sweets of an abundant supply of
money, and ample means of gratifying their sensual appetites, without
the irksome operation of working for the necessary means; and it was
not likely that any temporary alarm would divert them from practices
which supplied all their wants. With their hearts seared, if such an
operation ever was requisite, by the habitude which former crimes had
given them, and assured by the impunity which had hitherto attended
their speculations, it was unlikely that any scruples should assail,
or any dread dismay them. Reflection was quite out of the question.
Hare seems to have been both mentally, from original organization, and
physically from his incessant use of ardent spirits, incapable of it;
and Burke, though possessing a more active and acute mind, was yet
endowed with an unstable rambling disposition, which incapacitated him
from any continuous mental exertion, and besides, at this time he was
in the constant habit of “steeping his senses in forgetfulness,” and at
the same time banishing reflection and the warnings of conscience, by
the indulgence of his inordinate appetite for stimulants.
Whatever might be their feelings, or whether they felt at all or
not, the next opportunity found them actively engaged in what had
now assumed the character of a regular trade. The narration must be
proceeded in, and the disgusting catalogue gone through, however
revolting to humanity, and we hasten to lay before our readers the
remainder of the intelligence we have obtained respecting these murders.
Another one was effected upon the body of a poor old woman who had
unhappily drank too freely, and not being in a condition to behave
discreetly, had subjected herself to the surveillance of the police,
who, as a last resource, were in the act of conveying her to the
office; Burke happened to be in the way, and apparently commiserating
the situation of the unfortunate woman, proffered his good offices in
taking charge of her and furnishing her with a night’s lodgings. The
officers were doubtless glad to get their troublesome charge so easily
off their hands, and readily acceded to his request; she was conducted
to the ordinary slaughter-house, Hare’s, and speedily put out of a
condition to give any further annoyance to the police.
Another victim was a cinder gatherer, whose occupation caused her
to wander about the streets at all hours, and while Burke prowled
abroad at the early hour we have mentioned, many opportunities must
have occurred to form an acquaintance with her, and we may suppose
that little inducement would be requisite to cause her to leave her
wretched employment for a season, and partake of his good cheer: she
was destined never to return to it.
If there be any gradation in their wickedness it appears more
incredible and unnatural that a near relation of the one, and
connection of the other, should have been selected as a sacrifice;
yet it is well ascertained and admitted by Burke, that a young woman,
a cousin of M‘Dougal’s was also put to death, after having been
intoxicated. Some relations, we believe her mother and sister, after
the nefarious system was developed, came to Edinburgh in fearful
apprehension, endeavouring to ascertain the fate of her whom they had
long anxiously mourned over, and applied at the house of Constantine
Burke, when her relative Helen M‘Dougal was present. She, in answer
to their agonised inquiries, replied, that they need not trouble
themselves about her, as she was murdered and sold long before.
One of the remaining murders was perpetrated on the body of a woman who
came from the country, and took up her lodgings also in Hare’s.
We have already given, at page 125–137, a description of the murders
of Mary Paterson and James Wilson, or Daft Jamie, and it will be
unnecessary here to repeat what has already been inserted. Burke has
admitted, that he was intoxicated when he suffocated Paterson, and
that it was done in the presence of Hare, while she was in a slumber,
which the excessive quantity of spirits he induced her to swallow had
produced. All legal proceedings regarding her may be considered to be
at an end. Should it be resolved upon, however, to indict and try Hare
for the murder of Daft Jamie, a farther development of some of the
circumstances connected with him may be anticipated. As it stands at
present, we may assert that no additions can be made to the narrative
formerly given. It is singular that he was the only individual murdered
who had sense enough to refuse the liquor that was pressed upon
him, and apparently the only one that they found any difficulty in
dispatching. Burke has latterly, in allusion to this, remarked, “that
they found more trouble with a sober fool than a drunk one.”
During the progress of this wholesale butchery, Burke and M‘Dougal
removed from Hare’s, or as it was more commonly called Mrs. Log’s
house, to that of a relation or connection of theirs, named Broggan,
the father of the witness of that name. We cannot determine whether
there had really occurred such a quarrel between Hare and them as to
induce them to separate in disgust, as has been asserted, or whether
it was imagined that another establishment would furnish additional
opportunities for accomplishing their designs; but if a disagreement
actually did take place, it had been of short continuance, and their
operations appear to have suffered no interruption in consequence.
It has been already stated, that Broggan’s house presented admirable
capabilities for carrying on the work, provided the inmates could be
relied upon, but as it only consisted of one small apartment, this was
indispensable. There was also the dark passage, furnishing a place of
retreat for the women, when that should be considered convenient.
Previously to occupying their new lodgings, however, they seem to have
spent a short time in Constantine Burke’s house in the Canongate, as
they were residing there when Paterson and Brown were enticed into
it in April. Soon after Whitsunday they removed to Broggan’s house,
and not long after commenced using it for the purpose that Hare’s had
been formerly applied to. A decent woman, the widow of a porter, named
Ostler, who lived in the Grassmarket, and who had died shortly before,
was the first victim in it. She gained her living in an industrious
laborious way, mainly by washing and dressing, and eked it out by any
sort of work she might be employed in, and during harvest engaged in
country work. She had been accustomed to frequent Broggan’s house in
her vocation of a washer-woman, and was well known to the neighbours
from her long residence about the neighbourhood, and from her often
coming to Mrs. Law’s, where she got her clothes mangled. One day she
was observed to enter Broggan’s house, and was noticed afterwards
singing “Sweet Home” in company with Burke. This was the last time that
she was seen. After having been persuaded to drink, she was dealt with
in the usual manner.
Those who lived in the neighbourhood cannot divest themselves of
the idea that Broggan, or at least his wife, was cognizant of this
affair. Their characters were not good, he being a rude, brutal and
drunken personage, who made the place the scene of a continued series
of brawls; his wife also was not held in good estimation. The time
of the murder, they argue is pretty well ascertained by the fact of
Mrs. Ostler’s having been known to enter the house, and never seen to
depart, and her disappearance from her usual places of resort, as well
as Mrs. Law’s mangle, a place which her occupation required her often
to visit; and it is alleged, that at that period, though Broggan might
be out of the house, his wife could not, as she had lain in about the
time. It is but justice, however, towards the Broggans to state, that
Burke has never implicated them in any knowledge of his nefarious
proceedings, and in this particular case, he says, that the accouchment
had taken place some time before the murder, and that Mrs. Broggan, as
well as her husband, was absent from the house at the time.
Some time after Burke’s coming as a lodger to this house, he became
the sole occupier. Broggan had been unable to pay his rent at
Martinmas, and Burke and Hare, who were cautioners for it, were under
the necessity of satisfying the landlord. Broggan immediately after
this decamped with his family, though it could not be to evade the
landlord’s claim, or from inability to meet it, as we have seen that
the rent was already paid by his sureties. He left Burke in undisturbed
possession of the house, and furniture.
After his removal, it might have been supposed that no inmate
would have been admitted whose presence could possibly prevent the
accomplishment of their designs; yet with strange inconsistency they
shortly after invited Gray and his wife to lodge with them. It could
scarcely have been with the hope of mastering them, as Gray appears
too stout a man to have been attempted single-handed, even by both of
the villains, and the notion of his being an accomplice is equally
out of the question. It is true that when a “_a shot_,” as their
abominable cant termed it, was obtained, they were sent out of the
way, but this must have been inconvenient, and after being felt so,
it is probable that they would not have occupied their lodgings long.
The girl that Hare murdered, when Burke was absent in the country,
completes the number of sixteen; and this, according to Burke’s
confession, makes up the whole number. The amount is sufficiently
horrifying, and the details abundantly fearful.
The account of the trial, furnishes ample details of the murder of
Margery Campbell, or Docherty. It was the last committed, and afforded
the means of detecting and putting an end to their wicked career. It is
fearful to contemplate to what lengths it might otherwise have gone, or
how long it might have continued.
To the notices which have been given, we may subjoin a list of the
whole; and although, as we have already premised, we cannot vouch for
the order in which they happened being strictly observed, we believe
that it will be found otherwise perfectly accurate.
The first subject sold was,
The pensioner who died a natural death.