held a final consultation, when it was arranged that Clerk should speak
first for Smith, and that Erskine should follow for Brodie, and
strengthen or take up such points as he might think necessary. In order
to put himself in fighting form, Clerk, we are told, drank a bottle of
claret before commencing his address. This speech, the only extant
example of his celebrated method of advocacy, was, in all the
contemporary reports, reduced to a minimum for fear of offending the
judges. Fortunately, however, a later writer, Peter Mackenzie, has
preserved, in his “Reminiscences of Glasgow” (Glasgow, 1866), a full
account of the suppressed passages, which he gives on the unquestionable
authority of Æneas Morrison, the agent for Smith, who himself furnished
the author with these particulars. They have accordingly been
incorporated in the following report.
When Clerk, in the course of his address, came to deal with the evidence
of Ainslie and Brown, a scene, almost incredible to us nowadays,
occurred between the irrepressible young advocate and the overbearing
judge. Clerk informed the jury that, in his opinion, these witnesses
ought never to have been admitted, a statement which the bench naturally
resented, and he went on to insist that, notwithstanding the ruling of
the Court, the jury should discard their evidence entirely, as they (the
jury) were to judge of the law as well as of the fact. In the course of
the discussion which followed, the intervention of the Lord Advocate was
met by a graceful allusion to His Majesty’s Tory Administration as
“villains” likely to contaminate the Crown.
A heated altercation between Clerk and Braxfield ensued, and, finally,
the latter bade him go on with his speech at his peril. On Clerk
refusing to proceed unless allowed to do so in his own way, Braxfield
invited the Dean of Faculty to commence his address for Brodie, which
that gentleman declined to do. Thereupon the Lord Justice-Clerk was
about to charge the jury himself, when Clerk, starting to his feet and
shaking his fist at the bench, cried out, “Hang my client if ye daur, my
Lord, without hearing me in his defence!” These amazing words, the like
of which had seldom echoed in judicial ears, caused the utmost sensation
in Court, and, after an awful pause, the judges left the bench to hold a
consultation. But, on their return, instead of anything tremendous
taking place, his Lordship civilly requested Clerk to continue his
address, and the incident terminated.
Thus was the redoubtable Braxfield forced to yield to the persistence of
the fiery young counsel. On reading the discussion as reported, one
cannot but think that Clerk was clearly in the wrong, and that his
contention as to the jury being judges both of the fact and of the law
was, as Braxfield roundly put it, “talking nonsense.” Nor does it
appear that the line which he saw fit to adopt could in any way benefit
his unfortunate client, whose interests would have been better served by
more temperate methods. Clerk, however, was thoroughly pleased with his
performance, and subsequently observed that it was “the making of him”
professionally.
It is said that Clerk’s indignant repudiation of the prosecutor’s
argument that the King’s pardon made Brown an honest man reached the
ears of Robert Burns, and led him afterwards to write the famous lines--
A prince can mak’ a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that;
But an honest man’s aboon his might,
Gude faith, he mauna fa’ that!
At three o’clock in the morning the Dean of Faculty rose to address the
jury on behalf of Deacon Brodie. In spite of the fact that he had been
continuously engaged upon the case since nine o’clock the preceding
morning, no signs of exhaustion appear in his eloquent and powerful
speech. Every point telling in favour of the prisoner was given due
prominence, and the utmost was made of the somewhat flimsy material of
the _alibi_; the whole address forms a fine example of forensic oratory.
At half-past four o’clock the Lord Justice-Clerk--who is said never to
have left the bench since the proceedings began--delivered his charge to
the jury, which, one is glad to find, notwithstanding what had
previously occurred, was a fair and impartial review of the evidence.
His Lordship having concluded his charge at six o’clock on Thursday
morning, the Court adjourned until one o’clock afternoon; the jury were
inclosed; and the prisoners taken back to prison.
The _Edinburgh Advertiser_ remarks--“Mr. Brodie’s behaviour during the
whole trial was perfectly collected. He was respectful to the Court, and
when anything ludicrous occurred in the evidence he smiled as if he had
been an indifferent spectator.”
When the Court met again at one o’clock, the Chancellor of the jury
handed in their written verdict, sealed with black wax, which
unanimously found both panels guilty of the crime libelled, and the Lord
Advocate formally moved for sentence.
A final effort was now made on behalf of the prisoners. Counsel for
Brodie stated a plea in arrest of judgment, in respect that the verdict
found the panels guilty “of breaking into _the_ house in which the
General Excise Office for Scotland was kept,” whereas it appeared from
the evidence that there were, in fact, two separate and distinct houses
occupied as the Excise Office. This objection was, after argument,
repelled by the Court, and the prisoners were sentenced to death, their
execution being appointed to take place on Wednesday, 1st October.
When the sentence was pronounced, we are told “Mr. Brodie discovered
some inclination to address himself to the Court, but was restrained by
his counsel,” and contented himself with bowing to the bench. The
prisoners were then removed to the Tolbooth, escorted by the City Guard,
amid a great concourse of spectators, and the proceedings terminated.
Æneas Morrison, the agent for Smith, adds the following
particulars:--“The panels behaved in a manner different from each other,
Smith appearing to be much dejected, especially at receiving his
dreadful sentence, although in many instances he showed very great
acuteness in his remarks upon the depositions of the witnesses and in
the questions to them which he suggested. Mr. Brodie, on the other hand,
affected coolness and determination in his behaviour. When the sentence
of death was pronounced he put one hand in his breast and the other in
his side and looked full around him. It is said that he accused his
companion of pusillanimity, and even kicked him as they were leaving the
Court. Thus ended a trial which had excited the public curiosity to an
extraordinary degree, and in which their expectations were not
disappointed. During the space of twenty-one hours--the time it
lasted--circumstances continually followed each other to render it
highly interesting, and more particularly to the gentlemen of the law,
on account of the great variety and importance of the legal topics which
were discussed and decided.”
The prisoners were lodged in the condemned cell of the Tolbooth, along
with two men, James Falconer and Peter Bruce, then under sentence of
death for breaking into and robbing the office of the Dundee Banking
Company. They were each chained by one foot to an iron bar, but a
contemporary account records that “Brodie’s chain is longer than the
rest, as he can sit at a table and write by himself. They have behaved
tolerable well, considering the small room they have on the goad, which
goes across the room, very securely fixed from one end to the other in
the wall, and hath four divisions or places on which the chains are
fixed, with strong iron supporters fastened into the stone floor, and
each has a mattress to lie on opposite to himself.”
A terrible change this, for the unfortunate Deacon, from the comfortable
chambers of his house in Brodie’s Close and the social advantages which
he had so long and undeservedly enjoyed. He seems, notwithstanding, to
have kept up his spirits, and is said to have been as particular as ever
in the matter of his dress. Having contrived to cut out the figure of a
draughtboard on the stone floor of his dungeon, he amused himself by
playing with any one who would join him, and in default of such, with
his right hand against his left. The author of “Traditions of Edinburgh”
states that this diagram remained in the room, where it was so strangely
out of place, till the demolition of the Old Tolbooth in 1817. Many of
his friends came to see him, for, until the time of his execution drew
near, no restriction was placed upon their visits, and every effort was
made by them to obtain a commutation of the death sentence to one of
transportation for life.
In furtherance of this object Deacon Brodie, on 10th September, wrote
letters to the Right Hon. Henry Dundas, afterwards Viscount Melville,
and to the Duchess of Buccleuch, soliciting their influence in support
of an application then being made to the Government on his behalf.
Copies of these most interesting documents, which have never before been
published, will be found in the Appendix--that addressed to the Duchess
being also given in facsimile. This lady was Elizabeth, daughter of
George, Duke of Montague, and wife of Henry, third Duke of Buccleuch,
the friend of Sir Walter Scott, whose daughter-in-law, when Countess of
Dalkeith, inspired “The Lay of the Last Minstrel.” It is noteworthy
that, in spite of his position and presumed education, the Deacon’s
spelling is more remarkable for originality than accuracy. His friends’
“aplication above,” however, proved unsuccessful, and the inevitable end
had to be faced.
[Illustration: The Old Tolbooth of Edinburgh, showing the beam upon
which criminals were executed.
(From a Drawing by D. Somerville.)]
Deacon Brodie continued to bear up bravely, referring to his approaching
exit as “a leap in the dark,” and is said to have only once broken down,
when he was visited by his eldest daughter, Cecil, on the Friday before
his execution. On the Sunday preceding his death, the other two
prisoners, Falconer and Bruce, who were to have been executed on the
same day, were granted a respite of six weeks. Smith observed that six
weeks was but a short time; whereupon the Deacon exclaimed, “George,
what would you and I give for six weeks longer? Six weeks would be an
age to us!” On the Tuesday he was visited by a friend, when, we are
told, “the conversation turning upon the female sex, he began singing
with the greatest cheerfulness from the ‘Beggar’s Opera’ ‘‘Tis woman
that seduces all mankind,’ &c.”
The “Beggar’s Opera,” the well-known work of the poet and dramatist,
John Gay, appears to have been a special favourite with the Deacon, for
it will be remembered that he sang a stave from it on the night of the
robbery of the Excise Office. The opera was frequently performed at the
Old Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, at this period, and he had, no doubt, had
many opportunities of hearing it. Commenting on this incident, the
_Edinburgh Advertiser_ remarks--“Brodie seemed to take the character of
Captain Macheath as his model, and the day before his death was singing
one of the songs from the ‘Beggar’s Opera.’ This is another proof of the
dangerous tendency of that play, which ought to be prohibited from being
performed on the British stage. It is inconceivable how many highwaymen
and robbers this opera has given birth to.” The editor of the
_Advertiser_ was evidently less gifted with a sense of humour than the
Deacon, and had never read Fergusson’s lines “To Sir John Fielding, on
his attempt to suppress the ‘Beggar’s Opera.’”
* * * * *
On the night before the execution, Deacon Brodie complained of the noise
made by the workmen in effecting the alterations on the gibbet
necessitated by the reprieve of the other prisoners, Falconer and Bruce;
and it is stated in a contemporary report of the trial, published by
Robertson on 2nd October, 1788, the day after the execution, that Brodie
then said “he planned the model of the new place of execution, he
purchased the wood, and gave his assistance in finishing it--but little
did he imagine at the time that he himself would make his exit on it.”
The _Edinburgh Advertiser_ of 3rd October, 1788, describing the
execution, says--“It is not a little remarkable that Brodie was the
planner, a few years since, of the new-invented gallows on which he
suffered”; and Robert Chambers, in his “Minor Antiquities of Edinburgh,”
(1833, p. 168), remarks--“As the Earl of Morton was the first man
executed by the ‘Maiden,’ so was Brodie the first who proved the
excellence of an improvement he had formerly made on the apparatus of
the gibbet. This was the substitution of what is called the ‘drop’ for
the ancient practice of the double ladder. He inspected the thing with a
professional air, and seemed to view the result of his ingenuity with a
smile of satisfaction.” William Chambers, however, in his “Book of
Scotland” (1830, pp. 327-8), takes a different view, holding that the
drop was first employed at Newgate in 1784, and had already been used in
Edinburgh at an execution in 1785.
Popular tradition, with a fine sense of the requirements of poetic
justice, has steadfastly held that Deacon Brodie was the first to test
the efficacy of the drop which he himself invented, and was thus, in a
double sense, the artificer of his own downfall. And although such a
circumstance would be well in keeping with the Deacon’s singularly
dramatic career, it must unfortunately be dismissed as a picturesque
improvement on the literal truth.
A careful examination of the Council records discloses the following
facts, now for the first time published:--On 18th August, 1784, the Town
Council remitted to Convener Jameson (mason), Deacon Hill (wright), and
Deacon Brodie to inspect the west wall of the Tolbooth and consider in
what manner a door or passage could be made in order that criminals
might be executed there, and to report. Up till that time all public
executions had taken place in the Grassmarket at the foot of the West
Bow; and it was now proposed that criminals should be executed upon a
platform to be erected on the low building which projected from the west
gable of the Tolbooth. The report of the committee on the subject does
not appear on the record; but in September the new Council was elected
for the ensuing year, and Deacon Brodie was not chosen a member of it.
On 24th November, 1784, “pursuant to a late remit to the Magistrates to
consider as to fitting up a place adjoining to the Tolbooth of this city
for the execution of criminals,” estimates by Convener Jameson and
Deacon Hill (who were members of the new Council) were accepted for the
mason and wright work respectively. On 11th April, 1785, estimates by
the same two Councillors were accepted for rebuilding the shops affected
by the proposed alterations, “exclusive of the wright work for the
platform and the machinery for an execution, conform to a former
estimate.” On the 13th of the same month, the Dean of Guild having
inspected the work and reported favourably upon it, the magistrates
passed an Act of Council appointing the west end of the Tolbooth to be
the common place of execution in all time coming; and ordained Archibald
Stewart, then under sentence of death for housebreaking, to be executed
there in pursuance of his sentence. The execution was accordingly
carried out on 20th April, 1785, but not, it would appear, upon the
moveable platform or drop. On 7th September of that year, five months
after Stewart’s death, the Council for the first time authorised Deacon
Hill “to make a _moveable_ platform for the execution of criminals in
terms of his estimate”; and among certain accounts ordered to be paid by
the City Chamberlain on 13th September, 1786, we find one due “To Thomas
Hill for erecting a _second_ platform, west end of the Tolbooth,
twenty-one pounds, seven shillings and elevenpence halfpenny”--his
account for the former work being also mentioned.
This was, without doubt, the drop upon which, two years later, Deacon
Brodie was to suffer the penalty of the law. It is possible, and indeed,
from the contemporary evidence already quoted, probable that he himself
designed the model, adopting the improvement recently introduced in
England. He may even have sent in an estimate for the work, but, as he
was not that year a member of Council, Deacon Hill had the better chance
of securing the contract, and certainly obtained it.
It was, therefore, on the platform above referred to that the execution
of William Brodie and George Smith took place, at half-past two o’clock
on the afternoon of Wednesday, 1st October, 1788, in presence of an
immense crowd of spectators, great numbers having come from all parts of
the country to witness the event. The _Caledonian Mercury_
observes--“The crowd on this occasion was the greatest ever known; the
whole space from the prison to the Castle Hill being filled with
spectators, pressed together in one compact and immoveable column.” The
proceedings were conducted with more than usual solemnity; the
magistrates attended in their robes of office, “with white gloves and
white staves”; ministers of divers denominations were present in their
gowns and bands; and the City Guard formed a cordon round the place of
execution. We read that “the great bell tolled during the ceremony,
which had an awful and solemn effect.” This is said to have been the
first occasion of the kind on which the bell of St. Giles’ Church was
tolled. It is characteristic of the man that, on his last public
appearance, we are informed, “Mr. Brodie appeared in a handsome suit of
black clothes, and had his hair powdered and dressed with taste.” Twice,
owing to some defect in the adjustment of the ropes, did the Deacon
descend from the platform and enter into conversation with his friends;
but, notwithstanding this dreadful delay, his fortitude remained
unshaken, and he met his fate with a courage and equanimity worthy of a
better cause:
Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it.
With his hand thrust carelessly into the open front of his vest, as we
see him in his portrait, the Deacon calmly took that step out of the
world which his own ingenuity is said to have shortened.
The _Edinburgh Evening Courant_ of 2nd October, 1788, voices the popular
sentiment of the time as follows:--“Thus ended the life of William
Brodie, whose conduct, when we consider his situation in life, is
equally singular and contradictory. By the low and vicious connections
he formed he had everything to lose--he could gain little even if
successful; for, from the moment he embarked in the enterprises of his
desperate associates, his property, his life, was at their mercy.
Indeed, his crimes appear to be rather the result of infatuation than
depravity; and he seemed to be more attracted by the dexterity of
thieving than the profit arising from it. To excel in the performance of
some paltry legerdemain or slight-of-hand tricks, to be able to converse
in the cant or flash language of thieves, or to chant with spirit a song
from the ‘Beggar’s Opera,’ was to him the highest ambition. Those who
knew him best agree that his
[Illustration: Deacon Brodie.
(_After Kay._)]
disposition was friendly and generous, and that he had infinitely more
of the dupe than the knave in his composition; and was, indeed,
admirably fitted for designing and wicked men to work upon.” The Deacon,
even in his own day, did not lack apologists. And though there may be
some diversity of opinion regarding the precise shade which that unhappy
gentleman had stained a character in other respects not without
redeeming traits, there can be none as to the monstrous injustice of the
penalty exacted by the law for his offence. In these more merciful
times, when conscientious juries hesitate to convict the guilty upon a
capital charge, and rather than deliver a fellow-being to an irrevocable
doom will sometimes evade responsibility by the _via media_ of “not
proven,” it is difficult to realise the callous indifference to human
life for which our criminal code was formerly notorious. At that period
a man might, literally, as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb; and
that the Deacon should suffer a punishment so disproportionate to his
deserts would, however repugnant to modern feeling, seem natural enough
to his stoical contemporaries.
* * * * *
In explanation of the singular degree of coolness exhibited to the last
by Deacon Brodie, a curious story became current. Much anxiety had
undoubtedly been shown both by himself and others that his body might
not be detained in prison, but should be delivered to his friends so
soon as the execution had taken place. With this view the Deacon, on the
forenoon of the fatal day, addressed to the Lord Provost the following
remarkable letter:--
“Edinburgh Tolbooth,
“Oct. 1, 1788, Eleven o’clock.
“My Lord,
“As none of my relations can stand being present at my dissolution,
I humbly request that your Lordship will permit ---- to attend, it
will be some consolation in my last hour; and that your Lordship
will please give orders that my body after be delivered to and by
no means to remain in gaol; that he and my friends may have it
decently dressed and interred. This is the last request of
“Your most obedient
but most unfortunate,
WILL. BRODIE.”
“Both of which requests,” we are told, “his Lordship most readily
granted.” It is said, by the author of the letterpress in “Kay’s
Portraits” (1877, vol. 1., pp. 262-3), on the authority of an
eye-witness of the execution, that Brodie had been visited in prison by
a French quack, Dr. Peter Degravers, who undertook to restore him to
life after he had hung the usual time; that, on the day preceding the
execution, this individual had marked the Deacon’s temples and arms with
a pencil, in order to know the more readily where to apply his lancet;
and that with this view the hangman had been bargained with for a short
fall. “The excess of caution, however, exercised by the executioner in
the first instance in shortening the rope proved fatal by his
inadvertency in making it latterly too long. After he was cut down his
body was immediately given to two of his own workmen, who, by order of
the guard, placed it in a cart and drove at a furious rate round the
back of the Castle. The object of this order was probably an idea that
the jolting motion of the cart might be the means of resuscitation, as
had once actually happened in the case of the celebrated ‘half-hangit
Maggie Dickson.’ The body was afterwards conveyed to one of Brodie’s own
workshops in the Lawnmarket, where Degravers was in attendance. He
attempted bleeding, &c., but all would not do. Brodie was fairly gone.”
The irregular practitioner above mentioned was certainly in Edinburgh
about that time, for we read in the newspapers of the day
advertisements, which he issued from his rooms in Charles Street,
offering his professional services to the public at the moderate fee of
half-a-crown “in all cases.” Judging by the testimonials from grateful
patients which he also published, the doctor must have given wonderful
value for the money; but in the somewhat exceptional circumstances of
the Deacon’s case he would, if successful, have surely been entitled to
a larger fee.