reached his own house about nine o’clock, where he once more changed his
attire, putting on the fine white suit he usually wore. He then hurried
to the house of his mistress, Jean Watt, in Libberton’s Wynd, where he
remained till the following morning. Meanwhile, at Smith’s house the
other three were discussing the disappointing result of the night’s
expedition and indulging in mutual recriminations. The non-appearance of
Brodie added to their uncertainty, and they parted for the night in no
amiable mood, Ainslie and Brown going over to the New Town, where, in a
tavern kept by one Fraser, they sought consolation in a bowl of punch.
The next day--Thursday--the Deacon came to Brown and Ainslie’s lodging
in Burnet’s Close and laughingly told them that Smith had accused him of
deserting his post the previous night. He was received but sourly by
Brown, who made no secret of sharing Smith’s opinion. These, however,
were minor matters, the vital question being whether or not suspicion
would be directed to themselves. It was arranged that they should all
meet at Smith’s the following night, when the sixteen pounds--miserable
recompense of so much risk and labour!--was to be equally divided among
them.
Accordingly, upon the Friday evening, in the upper room of Smith’s
house, each man received his share, amounting to a little over four
pounds. Ainslie, to whom Brodie owed a “debt of honour,” took occasion
to require payment, and got one of the five-pound notes and some gold
from him. The Deacon, who had staked infinitely more, thus made less
than any of them by the adventure. Brown, so soon as he had received his
share, went out, like Judas, and for a similar purpose.
The reader may remember the two trunks in which the silks stolen from
Inglis & Horner’s shop were packed with a view to transmission to John
Tasker at Chesterfield. One of these had been despatched some time
before by the Berwick carrier, the other had been forwarded that week by
the Newcastle waggoner, and Smith’s wife was to leave for England on the
Saturday in order to treat personally with the proprietor of the “Bird
in Hand,” who was probably a difficult customer to deal with. Smith and
Ainslie therefore proceeded to the New Town, where, at the inn kept by
William Drysdale, they purchased a ticket for Mrs. Smith by the
mail-coach to Newcastle on the following day. The five-pound note was
tendered in payment, and they received the change, less the price of the
ticket.
* * * * *
Let us now see how prudent Mr. Brown had been improving his time. Daily
since the 25th of January there had appeared in each of the three
Edinburgh newspapers advertisements offering £150 reward and a free
pardon to whoever should disclose the robbers of Inglis & Horner’s shop.
The excitement occasioned by that crime had been revived and increased
tenfold by the discovery of the attack upon the Excise Office, which was
made by ten o’clock on the night of its occurrence, and the vigilance of
the authorities was proportionally augmented.
Brown stood in a more ticklish situation towards the outraged majesty of
the law than any of his companions, for over him hung the sentence of
transportation, which he had hitherto successfully evaded; and it would
go hard with him if he fell into the hands of justice in connection with
any of his later villainies, which might happen at any moment. He was,
moreover, profoundly disgusted with the manner in which the Excise
business had miscarried through no fault of his own, and would not be
sorry to steal a march on his cowardly associates. He was also cunning
enough to foresee that, if he turned informer, he would not only earn a
handsome reward, but enjoy immunity for his past performances, as it
would be necessary for the public prosecutor to obtain a pardon for his
old offence also, before his evidence could be made available against
his fellow-criminals.
Having carefully considered his position, therefore, and immediately
after securing his dividend at Smith’s, Brown proceeded to William
Middleton, of the Sheriff-Clerk’s Office, and informed him that he had
certain discoveries to make concerning the robberies recently committed
in the city. Late as it then was--eleven o’clock--Middleton at once took
Brown to the Procurator-Fiscal, to whom he told the whole story,
suppressing, however, in the meantime, all mention of Deacon Brodie’s
name in connection with the crimes. His object in taking this course was
doubtless to secure a hold upon the Deacon which would enable him, at
his leisure, to blackmail that respectable gentleman with impunity. At
his own request the Procurator-Fiscal and Middleton went with him that
same night to Salisbury Crags, where Brown pointed out a number of false
keys underneath a stone, hidden there by Smith after the affair at the
Excise Office, of which the Fiscal took possession.
The next morning, Saturday, 8th March, Brown, accompanied by Middleton,
left for Chesterfield in pursuit of Inglis & Horner’s goods by the very
coach in which Mrs. Smith was to have performed the same journey. How
they fared upon their errand is not recorded, but it would have been
interesting to know what happened when John Tasker’s unexpected guests
dropped in at the “Bird in Hand.”
The same day Ainslie, Smith, and his wife, and servant-maid were
apprehended; and, having been examined before the Sheriff, were
committed to the Tolbooth, the two women being subsequently set at
liberty.
That Saturday evening the rumour of the prisoners’ arrest spread like
wildfire through the city, and on Deacon Brodie, confident in his fool’s
paradise, the intelligence must have fallen like a thunderbolt. Apart
from his temporary loss of nerve at the Excise Office, he was
undoubtedly a man of courage and resource, and the step he now
determined to take might well have daunted a less intrepid character.
This was to visit the Tolbooth in person and obtain speech with Smith
and Ainslie, so as to induce them, if it were not too late, to hold
their tongues. To do this, knowing nothing of where he stood or how much
had come out, was to put his head into the lion’s mouth; but he saw
that, at all costs, he must ascertain what had happened. Accordingly,
having taken his cane and cocked hat, the Deacon, with that “particular
air” which characterised his walk, sallied forth upon his desperate
errand. The Tolbooth was but a few paces from his own door, and he was
familiar with the jail, both as a Town Councillor and in the ordinary
course of his employment. Arrived there, he congratulated the officials
on their capture, and expressed his curiosity to see the redoubtable
burglars with whose deeds all Edinburgh was then ringing, but was
informed that no one was allowed access to them. He was therefore
compelled to return home no wiser than he went, where, it is probable,
the owner of the house in Brodie’s Close passed a sleepless and
remorseful night.
Next morning, realising that the game was up, and that he must prepare
for the worst--for he might now be arrested at any moment--Deacon Brodie
sent for his foreman, Robert Smith, at eight o’clock, told him that he
was about to leave town for a day or two on business, and gave him a
message about a waistcoat and a pair of breeches he required for the
journey. He then casually asked “if there were any news about the people
who had broke into the Excise.” The foreman answered that Smith was in
custody, and that Brown had been sent to England; and, knowing his
master’s intimacy with these men, added that he hoped he (Brodie) was
not concerned with them, to which the other made no reply.
If he was to fly the country it was essential that the Deacon should be
in touch with his relations in Edinburgh, upon whose assistance he would
principally have to rely. He therefore promptly called upon his
cousin--whose name was considerately withheld in the subsequent
proceedings--and explained the situation. This gentleman’s feelings, as
he listened to the disclosures of his respectable relative, may readily
be imagined. But the honour of the family was at stake, and he seems to
have done everything he could to further the Deacon’s plans. The
necessary arrangements made, early in the forenoon of Sunday, 9th March,
while the good folks of Edinburgh were still in church, Deacon Brodie
burnt his boats and stole secretly out of the city.
Had the Deacon’s confidence in the loyalty of his late companions been
stronger, it is possible he might even yet have weathered the storm, for
neither Smith nor Ainslie in the declarations emitted by them on the
Saturday had admitted their guilt or made any reference to his
connection with them. So far, therefore, the statements of Brown were
uncorroborated; and if, in modern parlance, Brodie had decided “to face
the music” and remain in Edinburgh, his fortunes might have taken a
different turn.
In the course of Smith’s first examination before the Sheriff a curious
incident occurred. He was confronted with the ploughman, John Kinnear,
whose coulter had been stolen by Ainslie and Brown as before narrated,
in order to try if that person could identify him. Kinnear, never having
seen him before, failed to do so. At this moment, however, Smith’s dog
“Rodney,” having followed his master to the Sheriff-Clerk’s Office, came
into the room, and the ploughman at once recognised it as the black dog
which he had seen with the men in the field at Duddingston. The animal
ran up to Smith and fawned upon him, thus, in spite of his denial,
establishing the fact of his ownership. “Rodney” figures in Kay’s sketch
of the first meeting of Brodie and Smith.
On Monday, 10th March, Smith, learning that the Deacon had decamped, and
no doubt hoping to secure more favourable terms for himself, sent for
the Sheriff and informed him “that he wished to have an opportunity of
making a clean breast and telling the truth.” He thereupon emitted his
second declaration, laying bare the whole operations of the gang, and
implicating Brodie to the fullest extent, his admissions being
afterwards confirmed by Ainslie.
The following paragraph appeared next day in the _Edinburgh Evening
Courant_:--“The depredations that have been committed by housebreakers
in and about this city for this some time past have been no less
alarming than the art with which they have been executed, and the
concealment that has attended them has been surprising. From a
discovery, however, just made, there is reason to hope that a stop will
soon be put to such acts of atrocious villainy. With what amazement must
it strike every friend to virtue and honesty to find that a person is
charged with a crime of the above nature who very lately held a
distinguished rank among his fellow-citizens? With what pity and
compunction must we view the unfortunate victim who falls a sacrifice to
justice for having violated the laws of his country, to which violation
he was perhaps impelled by necessity, when rank, ease, and opulence are
forfeited in endeavouring to gratify the most sordid avarice? For to
what other cause than avarice can we impute the late robbery committed
upon the Excise Office, when the situation of the supposed perpetrator
is considered? No excuse from necessity can be pled for a man in the
enjoyment of thousands, who will run the risk of life, honour, and
reputation in order to attain the unlawful possession of what could in a
very trifling degree add to his supposed happiness.--See the
advertisement from the Sheriff-Clerk’s Office.”
The advertisement to which this article refers--a copy of which will be
found in the Appendix--was the offer by the Procurator-Fiscal of a
reward of two hundred pounds for the apprehension of “William Brodie, a
considerable house carpenter, and burgess of the city of Edinburgh,”
together with the minute and somewhat unflattering description of that
gentleman’s personal appearance, to which we have already alluded. So
the murder was out at last, and the ex-Town Councillor became a fugitive
from justice with a price upon his head.
In consequence of the revelations of Smith, the officers of justice
proceeded on Monday, 10th March, to search the house in Brodie’s Close.
There Smith, who accompanied them, unearthed the Deacon’s pistols,
buried in his woodyard. His dark lantern, several pick-locks, and a
parcel of false keys were also found--the first “in a pen where
game-cocks had been
[Illustration: Deacon Brodie’s Dark Lanthorn and False Keys.
(From the originals in the Museum of The Society of Antiquaries of
Scotland.)]
kept”--together with “a black case, with a lid to it, the case full of
potty,” with which it had been the Deacon’s amiable habit to take
impressions of his friends’ door keys, and of which Smith remarked that
he “approved of Brodie keeping the potty in a case, as the lid prevented
an impression of a key, when taken, from being defaced.” On a subsequent
occasion, Smith conducted the sheriff-officers to the foot of
Warriston’s Close, where the iron crow--“Little Samuel”--the “toupee
tongs,” and the false key for the Excise Office door were discovered
hidden “in an old dyke.” The Deacon’s dark lantern and twenty-five false
keys were, on 13th December, 1841, presented by the then Clerk of
Justiciary to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, in whose museum
they still remain.
On Tuesday, 11th March, George Williamson, King’s Messenger for
Scotland, was deputed to search for the missing Deacon. He tried several
of Brodie’s haunts in Edinburgh and Leith--even examining the enclosed
tombs in Greyfriars Churchyard, which had more than once sheltered
living offenders against the law--but without success. Prosecuting his
inquiries along the London Road, Williamson first got scent of his
quarry at Dunbar, which the fugitive had left at four o’clock on the
Sunday afternoon in a post-chaise, and afterwards traced him to
Newcastle, where he had taken the “Flying Mercury” light coach for York
and London. From the coachman of that vehicle Williamson learned that
Deacon Brodie had left the coach at the foot of Old Street, Moorfields,
instead of proceeding to the “Bull and Mouth,” where the coach stopped,
and there all trace of him was lost. His pursuer repaired to the
billiard tables, hazard tables, cock-pits, tennis courts, and other
likely places, without hearing anything of him, and pushed his inquiries
as far as Margate, Deal, and Dover, with the like result. Finally, after
eighteen days’ fruitless search, the King’s Messenger was compelled to
return to Edinburgh and confess himself at fault.
* * * * *
We must now, in our turn, set forth in search of Mr. Brodie; and as to
his doings after leaving Edinburgh we have the evidence of his own
letter to Michael Henderson. He writes--“Were I to write you all that
has happened to me, and the hair-breadth escapes I made from a
well-scented pack of bloodhounds, it would make a small volume. I
arrived in London on Wednesday, 12th March, where I remained snug and
safe in the house of an old female friend until Sunday, 23rd March
(whose care for me I shall never forget, and only wish I may ever have
it in my power to reward her sufficiently), within five hundred yards of
Bow Street. I did not keep the house all this time, but so altered,
excepting the scar under my eye, I think you could not have rapt [swore]
to me. I saw Mr. Williamson twice; but although countrymen commonly
shake hands when they meet from home, yet I did not choose to make so
free with him notwithstanding he brought a letter to me. He is a clever
man, and I give him credit for his conduct. My female gave me great
uneasiness by introducing a flash man to me, but she assured me he was a
true man, and he proved himself so, notwithstanding the great reward,
and was useful to me. I saw my picture [his description in the
newspapers] six hours before, exhibited to public view, and my
intelligence of what was doing at Bow Street Office was as good as ever
I had in Edinburgh. I make no doubt but that designing villain Brown is
now in high favour with Mr. Cockburn [the Sheriff], for I can see some
strokes of his pencil in my portrait. May God forgive him for all his
crimes and falsehoods.” It is evident that the impartial terms of this
description were unpalatable to its subject.
The scar to which the Deacon here alludes was a souvenir of his
membership of the club in the Fleshmarket Close, and the occasion of his
receiving it is thus referred to in the answers of Hamilton, the master
sweep, in the process before mentioned--“Mr. Brodie, in all his innocent
amusements, never met with any person who, after having been fleeced of
money to the amount of a hundred pounds, and detected of the vile and
dishonest methods by which it had been abstracted from him, received, as
a return for his moral rectitude, a very handsome incision on the
eye--never he, indeed! He never was in such company, nor ever met with
such an accident--not he!” This scar may be observed in the portraits of
the Deacon by Kay.
Deacon Brodie had brought with him to London an introduction from his
cousin to Mr. William Walker, attorney in the Adelphi, who busied
himself in the fugitive’s affairs, lent him twelve guineas, and
arranged to have him shipped safely off to the Continent so soon as the
coast was sufficiently clear.
On Sunday, 23rd March, that “constant trader,” the sloop “Endeavour,” of
Carron, John Dent, master, bound for the port of Leith, lay at her
anchor at Blackwall. About twelve o’clock that night the captain, who
had gone ashore, came aboard with the owners, Messrs. Hamilton and
Pinkerton, and an elderly gentleman, apparently in feeble health. After
a short conversation the owners left the ship; the passenger, who had
been “allotted a bed in the state-room near the fire, as he was sick,”
withdrew to the privacy of his cabin; and the “Endeavour” began her
voyage. Off Tilbury Point, however, she went aground, and did not clear
the Thames for a fortnight. No one seems to have thought this
misadventure at all remarkable, and such incidents were doubtless common
enough in those spacious days, when time, generally speaking, was no
object.
The only other passengers on board were John Geddes, a tobacconist in
Mid-Calder, and his wife, who were returning to Leith after a visit to
the metropolis. The leisurely methods of the “Endeavour” afforded ample
opportunity for cultivating the acquaintance of their fellow-passenger,
whose name they found was Mr. John Dixon. They passed the time agreeably
together, and Mr. Dixon on one occasion entertained his fellow-voyagers
to dinner at a neighbouring village, though for the most part, while the
vessel was aground, he remained on board.
At length, having been successfully refloated, the “Endeavour” resumed
her interrupted voyage. No sooner, however, were they well out at sea
than Mr. John Dixon produced and handed to Captain Dent sealed orders
from the owners, wherein he was instructed to make sail for Ostend,
where Mr. Dixon was to be landed, before proceeding to Leith, and the
vessel was accordingly headed for the coast of Flanders. Owing to thick
weather and cross winds, she failed to make that port, and finally put
in to Flushing. Even this fresh delay appears in no way to have
disturbed the equanimity of the easy-going Geddeses; and, having arrived
on the 8th of April at their unlooked-for destination, they improved the
occasion by making some purchases of contraband goods as a memento of
their visit. Mr. John Dixon, meanwhile, before leaving the ship, wrote
three letters--which he entrusted to the care of Geddes for delivery on
his arrival in Edinburgh--directed respectively to Michael Henderson,
stabler in the Grassmarket; Mrs. Anne Grant, Cant’s Close; and Mr.
Matthew Sheriff, upholsterer in Edinburgh. Having taken a cordial
farewell of each other, Mr. Dixon and Geddes parted company, the
former--in whom the astute reader has ere now discerned the perfidious
Deacon--setting out for Ostend in a skiff, and the latter resuming his
protracted voyage.
When the “Endeavour” eventually arrived at Leith, where her
non-appearance had caused considerable anxiety, Geddes, on perusing the
newspapers, saw the Deacon’s description; but, though satisfied that the
letters he carried were written by the notorious William Brodie, for
three weeks after making the discovery he did nothing further in the
matter. Perhaps a dilatory habit had been induced by his late
experiences, or his conscience may have required some persuasion. Having
at last decided to open the letters, he showed them to various persons,
and subsequently delivered them over to the Sheriff. In taking this
course, Geddes was probably actuated less by a sense of duty to his
country than by a desire to secure the reward. If so, it is satisfactory
to find that he did not receive it. The authorities had now, through the
Deacon’s singular imprudence, obtained the necessary clue to his
whereabouts, and no time was lost in following it up.
What were the contents of the letter to Anne Grant we have now no means
of knowing, for that document was not produced at the trial, but the
other two letters will be found at length in the following report. In
all the contemporary accounts of the trial the names of persons referred
to by Deacon Brodie in his letters were, for obvious reasons, omitted.
These are now printed in full for the first time from the originals in
the Justiciary Office, Edinburgh. In that addressed to his
brother-in-law, Matthew Sheriff, dated 8th April, the Deacon writes--“My
stock is seven guineas; but by I reach Ostend will be reduced to less
than six. My wardrobe is all on my back, excepting two check shirts and
two white ones; one of them an old rag I had from my cousin Milton, with
an old hat (which I left behind). My coat, an old blue one, out at arms
and elbows, I also had from him, with an old striped waistcoat and a
pair of good boots. Perhaps my cousin judged right that old things were
best for my purpose. However, no reflections; he is my cousin and a
good prudent lad, and showed great anxiety for my safety; rather too
anxious, for he would not let me take my black coat with me. I could not
extract one guinea from him, although he owes me twenty-four pounds for
three years past. He cannot help his natural temper.” Evidently the
spruce and dapper gentleman keenly felt the sartorial straits to which
his cousin’s parsimony had reduced him. He requests that wearing
apparel, tools, and certain articles connected with his trade be
forwarded to him at an address in New York; desires that his remittances
may be as liberal as possible--“for without money I can make but a poor
shift”; and adds in a postscript, “Let my name and destination be a
profound secret, for fear of bad consequences.”
To Michael Henderson he writes, on 10th April, after the passages
already quoted, asking what is likely to become of “poor Ainslie, Smith,
and his wife; I hope that neither you nor any of your connections has
been innocently involved by these unfortunate men. Write me how the Main
went; how you came on in it; if my black cock fought and gained, &c.,
&c.”--from which we are pleased to note that the Deacon, amid the ruin
of his fortunes, retained his kindly disposition and sporting instincts.
One hopes that the black cock came off victorious. It is interesting to
find in the _Edinburgh Evening Courant_ of 5th April, 1788, the
following advertisement of the “Main” to which the Deacon refers:--
COCK FIGHTING.
The LONG MAIN betwixt William Hamilton, Esq., of Wishaw, and
Captain Cheap of Rossie, begins at twelve o’clock on Monday, the
7th curt., and will continue at the same hour every day during the
week, at HENDERSON’S PIT, Grassmarket.
SUNLEY and SMALL, Feeders and Handlers.
Brodie concludes his letter thus--“I am very uneasy on account of Mrs.
Grant and my three children by her; they will miss me more than any
other in Scotland. May God in His infinite goodness stir up some
friendly aid for their support, for it is not in my power at present to
give them the smallest assistance. Yet I think they will not absolutely
starve in a Christian land, where their father once had friends, and who
was always liberal to the distressed. My eldest daughter, Cecil, should
be put apprentice to the milliner or mantuamaking business; but I wish
she could learn a little writing and arithmetic first. I wish to God
some of my friends would take some charge of Cecil; she is a fine,
sensible girl, considering the little opportunity she has had for
improvement.” Here we have a glimpse of another and better element in
the complex character of this extraordinary man.