the High Street, and the numbers pouring, almost rushing into it from
every quarter, gave the immediate vicinity a very busy and animated
appearance. Among the arrivals, there were many whose appearance
betokened that they did not belong to the usual class who attend
such scenes. In this number were included many well dressed ladies,
who by and bye made their appearance at the windows of the lofty and
sombre looking lands in the Lawnmarket, as well as those of the county
buildings, and gave an unexpected variety to the picturesque scene. We
understand that windows commanding a view of the place of execution
were eagerly inquired after, and engaged at prices varying according to
their locality, from five to thirty shillings each, while some who had
engaged a window retailed a view at the rate of half a crown a head.
The great numbers who were constantly arriving up before seven o’clock
seemed principally to disperse themselves in this manner, as no very
sensible addition was made to the mass up to this hour.
About six o’clock the weather had become less inclement, and though it
was a cold raw disagreeable morning, the showers were only partial and
less violent than they had been during the night. After seven o’clock,
when the rain almost entirely ceased, the crowd became rapidly larger
and more dense, and about eight o’clock the area contained between the
West Bow and the Tron Church, presented an aspect of such an immense
and closely wedged mass of human beings--such a living and moving sea
of uncountable multitudes as could very seldom be witnessed, and we
should suppose has never been known on a similar occasion, or perhaps
on any other in the city, excepting perhaps at the king’s visit. All
along the street the people were packed more closely than could have
been conceived, and as far as the eye could reach, every vantage
ground that could command a view was thickly studded. In the immediate
neighbourhood of the scaffold, looking downwards, the crowd presented
a dark appearance from the great proportion of males who composed it,
but few females, much under the number that usually attends on similar
scenes were present. Farther out, however, where the pressure was
not so great, the usual proportions of the sexes seemed to be more
nearly maintained. Some few females were sprinkled even in the most
dense parts of the crowd, and their screams and unavailing efforts
to extricate themselves, sometimes gave a painful interest to their
appearance. We noticed one boy who was with great difficulty preserved
from being trampled under foot. Another unlucky youth had by some
chance got elevated above the heads of the crowd, and cut a grotesque
figure as sprawling on the top of the mass, he was tossed by its
movements from side to side; at last he was cast up against the houses
and secured a more stable station on a lamp iron. At the movement of
any part of the mob, a correspondent and simultaneous motion seemed to
be imparted to it in nearly all its parts, and some action continually
happening, imparted an appearance of a vast substance continually
waving to and fro.
The numbers collected at this time have been computed at from twenty
to thirty thousand individuals; we were disposed at first to consider
this calculation excessive, but, upon consideration, we are inclined
to believe that the amount has been under rather than overrated. Any
idea of counting is quite out of the question, and guessing by the
appearance in such a case, is nearly equally fallacious. The only
way that tolerable accuracy can be obtained, is by calculating the
superficial extent of the space occupied by the crowd.
We believe that we are not far wrong in assuming, that the High Street,
from the West Bow to the Tron Church, is about three hundred yards in
length, and averages about thirty yards in breadth. This would give for
the superficial contents of the area, nine thousand square yards. The
people did not quite extend to the Tron Church, but they were higher
than the West Bow, and some standing on the Castle Hill; and taking the
number in Bank Street, and those pushed out of the line in front of
the Advocates’ Library, and into closes and stairs, and throwing off
one thousand square yards, as an ample compensation for the deficiency
about the church, there is still left eight thousand square yards.
The mean density cannot be taken at less than four individuals to the
square yard,--indeed, from the close packing for a considerable way
round the scaffold, we are convinced that this is rather under than
over the mark. This computation will give thirty-two thousand persons
standing on the streets. We imagine that it is reckoning within the
number when we calculate five thousand additional for the crammed
windows, and those adventurous individuals who occupied the house
tops. In all, we arrive at the enormous number of thirty-seven thousand
persons. We do not give this calculation as strictly correct. It cannot
under these circumstances be so, but we believe that it is nearer the
truth than any guess, and that the whole number approximated more
nearly to forty thousand souls than to thirty-five thousand.
This immense multitude presented certainly nothing of the appearance
of having come for the purpose of witnessing a sad solemnity, and
differed very widely in demeanour from that which is usually exhibited
by the spectators of an execution. In ordinary cases, a great degree
of sympathy for the sufferer is usually manifested, and even in the
worst a respectful and solemn deportment is observed, as if it was
recognised that they were met upon a melancholy occasion. In this it
was totally different. Every countenance bore an expression of gladness
that revenge was so near, and the whole multitude appeared more as if
they were waiting to witness some splendid procession or agreeable
exhibition. Rude jokes and puns were bandied about, and any opportunity
for fun and frolic to while away the time was immediately seized upon.
Even the disagreeable and almost suffocating pressure was borne with
equanimity, and the glances that were cast at St. Giles’ clock rather
betokened an impatient desire to glut their vengeance by the spectacle
of the arch-fiend’s death-struggles, than an anxiety to be released
from their uncomfortable situation.
Eight o’clock at last struck solemnly, and commanded universal
attention; all eyes were directed towards the scaffold. It now remains
for us to describe what took place there, and
THE EXECUTION.
We left the _cortege_ proceeding up Libberton’s Wynd, the windows
of which were also filled with spectators. When Bailies Crichton
and Small, who were foremost in the procession, reached the top of
the wynd, and were observed by that part of the crowd who were in a
situation to see them, a loud shout was raised, which was speedily
joined in by the whole mass of spectators. When the culprit himself
appeared ascending the stair towards the platform, the yells of
execration were redoubled, and at the moment that he came full in
view, they rose to a tremendous pitch, intermixed with maledictions,
such as “the murderer! _Burke_ him! choke him, hangie!” and other
expressions of that sort. The miserable wretch, who looked thinner
and more ghastly than at his trial, walked with a steady step to the
apparatus of death, supported between his confessors, and accompanied
by the Rev. Messrs. Marshall and Porteous, and seemed to be perfectly
cool and self-possessed.
When he arrived on the platform of the scaffold, his composure seemed
entirely to forsake him, when he heard the appalling shouts and yells
of execration with which he was assailed. He cast a look of fierce and
even desperate defiance as the reiterated cries were intermingled with
maledictions, such as we have already described. His face suddenly
assumed a deadly paleness, and his faculties appeared to fail him.
Deafening cries of “hang Hare too,” “where is Hare?” “hang Knox,” were
mingled with the denunciations against Burke.
His appearance betrayed considerable feebleness, whether from disease
or emotion we cannot say.
He was dressed in the suit of black that we have already noticed, which
was rather shabby in appearance. The coat had been made for a man of
a much larger size, and from the looseness gave a look of weakness to
his person. His appearance was that of a short man, narrow about the
shoulder and chest; this proceeded from the dress, as he was really a
well formed muscular man. His head was uncovered, and his hair, which
was of a light sandy colour approaching nearly to white, along with
his dress, gave somewhat of a reverend aspect to him. The resemblance
to the portrait which was given in our third number, was universally
acknowledged by those who were around us, and we cannot give a better
idea of the man at this time to those who did not see him than by
referring to it, allowing for the colour of the hair, the cadaverous
hue, and some alteration which disease, confinement, and the murderer’s
fare, had produced. He wore a white neckcloth, and boots which seemed
to have lain uncleaned for a length of time in some damp place until
they had become mouldy.
It was precisely five minutes after eight o’clock when they ascended
the scaffold. Having taken his station in front of the drop, he
kneeled with his back towards the spectators, his confessor on his
right hand, and the other Catholic clergyman on his left, and appeared
to be repeating a form of prayer, dictated to him by one of these
reverend persons; the position called forth new shouts and clamours
of “stand out of the way,” “turn him round.” Mr. Marshall, in the
meanwhile, offered up a fervent supplication to Heaven in his behalf.
The bailies, and other persons on the platform, stood round and joined
in the devotions, with the exception of Williams the executioner, and
his assistant, who kept their station all the time at the back of
the drop. During the prayer a partial silence was obtained, although
there was still considerable confusion and uproar, which Bailie Small
in vain endeavoured to repress, by turning repeatedly and waving his
hand. Mr. Marshall’s prayer occupied exactly five minutes, when he and
the others, excepting the Catholic clergyman, retired from around him,
Burke and the priests still continuing to kneel. His prayers seemed to
be very fervent, and he mentioned to one of the priests, that he died
in the full assurance that he would be saved through the mediation of
our Saviour.
When he arose from his kneeling posture, he was observed to lift a
silk handkerchief on which he had knelt, and carefully put into his
pocket. He then cast his eyes upwards towards the gallows; and took
his place on the drop, the priest supporting him, though he did not
seem to require it from any bodily weakness. There was some hesitation
displayed in his manner, as if loath to mount; one of the persons who
assisted him to ascend, having rather roughly pushed him to a side, in
order to place him exactly on the drop, he looked round at the man with
a withering scowl which defies all description. While the executioner,
who was behind him, was proceeding with his arrangements some little
delay took place, from the circumstance of his attempting to unloose
the handkerchief at his breast. Burke, perceiving the mistake, said,
“the knot’s behind,” which were the only words, not devotional, uttered
by him on the scaffold, and the only time he spoke to any one excepting
the priests.
When the hangman succeeded in removing the neckcloth, he proceeded to
fasten the rope round his neck, which he pulled tightly, and after
adjusting it, and affixing it to the gibbet, put a white cotton
night cap upon him, but without pulling it over his face.
[Illustration: EXECUTION of WILLIAM BURKE.
_taken on the spot._
_Published by Thomas Ireland Jun^r. Edinburgh._]
While this was going on, the yells, which had been almost
uninterrupted, became tremendous, accompanied with cries of “hang
Hare too;” “where is Hare.” “_Burke_ the ----, do not waste rope
upon him;” “give him no rope.” “You ----, you will see Daft Jamie in a
minute.” He seemed somewhat unsteady; whether from terror or debility,
we cannot say.
The Rev. Mr. Reid then advanced, and conversed with him shortly, but
earnestly. It was then, we presume, that he directed him to say the
creed, which he did.
His countenance continued to present a death-like paleness, but
appeared composed, and he stood unflinching and motionless. When Mr.
Reid retired, the executioner advanced, and offered to draw the cap
over his face. He manifested some repugnance to its being done; but,
with some little difficulty, this part of the fatal preparations was
also completed.
When every thing was ready, and the assistants withdrawn, he uttered an
ejaculation to his Maker, beseeching mercy, and immediately gave the
signal, throwing the handkerchief from him with an impatient jerk, as
violently as his pinioned arms would permit, and was instantly launched
into eternity.
Before his removal from the jail, he had said that he would make short
work on the scaffold; and, though evidently disconcerted, and his
ideas scattered by the appalling shouts of the mob, he kept his word.
The whole proceedings on the scaffold occupied only ten minutes, and
precisely at a quarter past eight o’clock the drop fell. The fall was
very slight, and certainly could not dislocate his neck. It was nearly
so imperceptible, that at one instant he seemed standing, and engaged
in an active operation; on the next, with almost no change visible, he
was hanging helplessly suspended only by the cord that was suffocating
him.
Though no sympathy could be felt for such a despicable and cold-blooded
monster, it is still a fearful sight to witness death snatching his
victim with such circumstance. If any feeling of pity could be aroused
by this, it must have been heightened by the terrific huzza raised at
the moment he was thrown off, and the populace saw their enemy in the
death struggle.
----“One universal cry there rushed,
Louder than the loud ocean--like a crash
Of echoing thunder.”
In all the vast multitude there was not manifested one solitary
expression of sympathy. “No one said, God bless him;” but each vied
with another in showing their exultation by shouting, clapping of
hands, and waving of hats.
This universal cry of satiated vengeance for blood ascending to heaven,
rung through the city, and we are assured was distinctly heard by the
astonished citizens in its most remote streets. Never perhaps was such
a noise of triumph and execration heard, and we may safely say never on
a similar occasion. It was followed by a more partial and savage cry of
“Off with the cowl;” “let us see his face;” and many appeared desirous
of glutting their revenge by gloating on the disgusting spectacle of
his distorted features.
The magistrates, clergymen, and executioners immediately upon the drop
falling retreated from the scaffold, and left it under the charge only
of about half a dozen city-officers, who walked about to keep them
from the cold, and looked as if they would willingly have followed the
example of their superiors.
There was nothing which could be called struggling observable on the
now apparently lifeless body. It seemed as if, slight as was the jerk
given by the fall, instantaneous death had been produced, although the
neck could not have been dislocated, yet the body swung motionless
except from the impetus given by the fall, until about five minutes
after the suspension, when a slight convulsive motion of the feet
and heaving of the body indicated that vitality was not entirely
extinguished. Upon observing this another cheer was raised by the crowd
who were anxiously watching the body. It was repeated at intervals
as the motions were renewed. This happened we think perhaps twice
after the first, each time diminishing in force until the last seemed
merely a slight tremulous motion of the feet, imperceptible except to
those who were gazing intently upon the body. Notwithstanding that the
criminal was now obviously dead, and nothing visible but his wretched
carcass hanging at the end of a cord, a disgusting spectacle of the
pitch of degradation that guilt and crime can reduce a human being to,
the populace showed no disposition to disperse, and comparatively few
left the place. They seemed to wait for the purpose of gloating their
eyes with the spectacle of the last agonies of this object of their
implacable dislike, but after the occurrence of what we have mentioned,
there were no indications of sensation, and the very gradual swinging
round appeared to be produced by the action of the wind: The head also,
as usual, leaned a little to one side, which added a more miserable
character to the scene.
At a particular part of the crowd a cry of “to Surgeons’ Square,” was
now raised by some individuals, and a large body detached themselves
from the mass and proceeded in that direction. The signal was not
imparted to any other part, and the movement confined to the quarter
in which it originated. We are informed that the detachment which thus
broke off, though large when it left the Lawnmarket, was gradually
diminished by stragglers who dropped off in its progress, until upon
reaching its destination it was not able to cope with the party of
policemen who were stationed there in anticipation of such an attack.
Though they removed from the thickest part of the crowd, their
defalcation did not produce a sensible difference in the appearance.
At this time a baker had the hardihood to attempt a passage down the
street with a board on his head and a few rolls in it, and, contrary
to expectation, succeeded in accomplishing it. At one time his board
was nearly capsized, but an escort of fellow tradesmen quickly rallied
round him, and guarded him safely past the danger. A chimney-sweeper
with his ladder was not so fortunate as the baker, as his brethren
probably did not muster so strong, and he had to retreat without
accomplishing his purpose. With such incidents the mob were amused,
while the melancholy spectacle was exhibited before them, and their
laughter and glee continued unabated up to their dispersion.
At the time this was passing we observed a person dressed in a drab
great coat hallooing and encouraging the mob to persevere in these
manifestations of their feelings, from a window on the second floor of
a house, a little to the eastward of the scaffold, on the opposite
side. This individual, who seemed anxious to render himself conspicuous
by prompting fresh ebullitions of the popular sentiment, persevered
indefatigably in his exertions until the body was cut down; but the
vengeance of the mob appeared to have been satiated with the death of
the criminal, and the shouts, though renewed at intervals, gradually
became fainter and fainter.
After hanging a considerable time, some individual from below the
scaffold, the under part of which was boxed in for the reception of
the body when it should be cut down, gave the body a whirl round, but
no motion except what was thus given was observable. From the same
place was handed up to the town-officers on the platform shavings and
chips taken out of the rude coffin underneath. These were held up to
the populace, and some chips thrown over among them;--conduct which
did not appear very decorous from the official attendants upon such
a solemnity. At five minutes to nine o’clock, Bailies Crichton and
Small again came up Libberton’s Wynd, still habited in their robes and
with their staffs, but did not ascend the scaffold. The executioner
mounted it and immediately commenced lowering the body, which was done
by degrees and rather leisurely. Again the people made the welkin ring
with three hearty cheers when they saw their vengeance completed. A few
cries of “Let us have him to tear him in pieces” were heard, but there
was no colour for what has been said in a newspaper account, that there
appeared indications of a riot to effect this. There was perhaps never
a tithe, or a twentieth part of the same number collected in Edinburgh
who showed less disposition to disturb the public peace. So far from
the bold front of the policemen deterring them from their purpose, the
policemen stood all the time with their backs to the crowd, and we
believe had not to interfere in a single instance. Had the purpose of
the mob been evil, and had they acted simultaneously, no bold front of
the detachment of police, though it was strong, could have prevented
them attaining their object: the physical force and pressure of such
a mass would have overwhelmed all the officers present. But the crowd
were in perfect good humour, and never was there one that thought
less of rioting. Their desires were gratified--their aspirations were
answered, the arch-criminal had met with his doom, and there was for
the present nothing to ruffle their tempers. Accordingly after the body
was lowered, the people commenced dispersing quietly, and in an orderly
manner, until the streets were perfectly cleared. The body was lowered
precisely at five minutes before nine o’clock, having hung exactly
forty minutes. Upon its falling into the space under the scaffold,
which was boxed in, a scramble took place among the operatives for
relics, consisting of pieces of the rope, shavings from the coffin, &c.
&c. The body was placed in a shell and almost immediately carried down
on men’s shoulders to the Lock-up-house.
The populace, upon seeing this winding up of the business, quietly
dispersed. All Wednesday, however, large groupes visited the scene.
Instantly after the tragedy was closed, the men who were to remove the
scaffold and other erections appeared and commenced operations; such
was their celerity that by half-past eleven o’clock all traces of it
were removed.
We have abstained in the foregoing account of the exit of this
notorious criminal, from expressing any opinion upon the very
remarkable and unusual display of feeling which was manifested by
the immense majority of the spectators present, but have contented
ourselves simply with describing these ebullitions along with the other
incidents attendant on it, conceiving that to our readers who did
not witness it, they would form part and parcel of the transactions,
aye, and a more important part than either some of the actions of the
culprit, or the doings of the officials engaged in it. No one who
witnessed the unprecedented conduct of the crowd, could have hindered
himself from being impressed with it: and assuredly we did not survey
it with indifference, nor refrain from forming an opinion. Some of the
journals who record such events, appear to have felt very wrathful upon
the occasion, and to have lavished every term of vituperation upon
those whose conduct ran counter to their fine drawn sentimentality. We
confess that we cannot see any reason for indulging in such excessive
sensibility. It is not customary certainly to behave so; and this
departure from the etiquette of an execution is probably what has
shocked them; but then we must recollect that ordinary executions
are very different things from what this was, and that in them the
expression of feeling and sympathy for the sufferer is genuine and
heartfelt; and if those who exhibit it are entitled to any praise for
honesty and sincerity in that case, they have not forfeited it in
this, as there can be no doubt that the behaviour complained of was an
unpremeditated and simple expression of detestation for the crime, and
exultation that punishment had overtaken it.