formerly a Smith by occupation, and made the keys that opened the Excise
Office and other places; neither of which are true. I never was a
Smith, nor ever made a key. Old keys were bought, and the wards of them
altered; but I was not by any means the best in the execution.
It may be remembered against me that I tried to break out of prison.
But, not to dwell upon the love of life, and the dread of an ignominious
execution, both of which are so natural and strong, I not only sincerely
repented of having made the attempt, but, as a proof of my sincerity,
and, I humbly trust, as some kind of atonement, I prevented Peter Young
and three others from doing so--who, with myself, could afterwards have
escaped from prison--by freely discovering the plot to the turnkey.
I have, moreover, been falsely accused of advising my unfortunate wife
not to speak at all when she should be brought to this Court; but I
solemnly declare that the worst advice I ever gave her on that head, was
to speak the truth. I have no fear of her evidence affecting my life. To
make the wife the witness in law against the life of her husband, would
be barbarous in any country. My great security here is that the justice
and humanity of this country forbid it.
It was my full confession on my first imprisonment, that has made my
offences capital. I have destroyed myself, otherwise no evidence could
have condemned me.
I made that confession to prevent more dreadful mischief being done to
this injured country from persons whom it least suspected; for God, who
seeth in secret, only knows where the evil would have stopped. And, if
possible, to make some small reparation for the violent wrongs I have
myself been guilty of, I request the indulgence of the Court to suffer
me to read over a list of such robberies as my accomplices and myself
had determined to commit, had we not been timeously prevented.
1. On Dalgleish and Dickie, Watchmakers.
2. On White and Mitchell, Lottery Office keepers.
3. On a rich Baker near Brodie’s close,--the name forgot.
4. The Council Chamber, for the Mace.
5. The Chamberlain’s Office, for money.
6. Forrester and Co.’s, Jewellers.
7. Gilchrist and Co.’s, Linen-drapers.
[Besides these, and as depredations of greater magnitude,]
8. The Bank of Scotland (or Old Bank) was to have been broke into.
9. The Stirling Stage Coach, carrying a thousand pounds to pay the
Carron workmen, was to have been stopped and robbed.
10. Mr. Latimer, Collector of Excise for the Dalkeith district, reported
to have generally from one to two thousand pounds, was to have been
robbed.
* * * * *
I do not here speak of those felonies which are set forth in my
declarations, because some of them were made known by another.
With all humility, therefore, and a trembling heart, I urge the plea of
having been the true cause--whatever may seem, or may be endeavoured to
be proved to the contrary--of this wicked and dangerous confederacy
being discovered and broken up, trusting my life to this one plea, and
secure that it will have its full weight in the breasts of a discerning,
unbiassed, and merciful Jury.
My most thankful acknowledgments are humbly returned to your Lordships
for the appointment of such able and humane Counsel to plead for me.
Forgive me for declining their kind help.
I have no warrant to be farther troublesome. My guilty conscience, in
place of every other accuser and distress, has brought me to confess
crimes for which avenging justice will sentence me to die, and I deserve
my doom. I throw myself entirely on the mercy of the Court.
My Lords, to the charge brought against me in the Indictment, I Plead
Guilty.
APPENDIX XV.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE EXECUTION OF THE PRISONERS, AND THEIR
BEHAVIOUR AFTER THEIR CONVICTION.
(From Contemporary Sources.)
WILLIAM BRODIE appears to have been a man of a most singular and
unaccountable character. During his confinement, and from the time of
his receiving sentence till his execution, which was thirty-four days,
he showed a mixture of character almost incredible. At times serious and
sensible of his situation; and the next moment displaying jocularity and
humour. He appeared to possess an undaunted resolution and at times even
a daring boldness, frequently turning to ridicule his situation and the
manner of his exit, by calling it “a leap in the dark.” This disposition
continued with him till almost the last moment of his existence.
He declared that, notwithstanding the censures and opinion of the world
he was innocent of every crime excepting that for which he was
condemned; and endeavoured to extenuate his guilt by saying that the
crime for which he suffered was not a depredation committed on an
individual, but on the public, who could not be impressed by the small
trifle the Excise was robbed of. The hopes of obtaining a pardon or an
alteration of his sentence to transportation seems strongly to have
impressed his mind. In this view he immediately occupied himself in
writing letters, and many of them were sensible, forcible, and well
written; in particular, one to the Duke of Buccleugh, requesting his
interest to be sent to Botany Bay. He complained much or the
interruption he met with from the ministers attending him, and his
fellow-convicts’ singing of psalms, &c. Applications were also made to
the jury, to the magistrates, and counsel, and many others, to second
this view; and it was natural and commendable in his friends to use
every exertion in his favour. The examples, however, of a Lord Ferrers,
a Dr. Dod, the Perreaus, and Ryland, the King’s engraver, are convincing
proofs that the laws are not to be infringed with impunity, and that
justice is impartial.
The situation of criminals in the prison of Edinburgh, after
condemnation, is, from unavoidable circumstances, peculiarly irksome.
They are chained by one leg to a bar of iron, along side of which they
may walk; and their bed is made by the side of it. Mr. Brodie was
allowed a longer chain than usual, a table and chair, with pen, ink, and
paper; and the visits of any of his friends and acquaintances he wished
to see, till the night before his execution, when none were permitted to
visit him but clergymen.
To the same bar of iron on which he was chained, were, on this singular
occasion George Smith, and two men condemned for robbing the Dundee
Bank. Brodie was offered a separate room, but declined it.
Smith was uniformly devout and penitent--relished the conversation of
clergymen, and joined fervently in religious exercises. Brodie said,
upon some of these occasions, that he was so much employed with his
temporal concerns he could not attend to them; but, when his business
was finished, he would hear the clergymen. He remarked that the best of
men had not thought it improper to employ even their last moments in the
concerns of this world; that he was standing on his last legs, and it
behoved him to employ his time sedulously; that he was determined to die
like a man, and recommended the same to his fellow-sufferers. At times,
however, he conversed with the clergy, and joined in their devotions.
His conversation upon these occasions was directed to the principles of
natural religion, not to the doctrines of revelation.
He lamented to a friend the impropriety of his first pursuits in life;
that his inclinations at an early period led him to wish to go to sea;
and though he did not possess much bodily strength, yet his courage and
resolution were undaunted; that, instead of being in that disgraceful
situation, his country might have looked up to him with admiration, and
he might have been an honour to himself and family.
In the course of this trial he appears to have been naturally mild
tempered and humane, but without principles of conduct, and easily led
to crime. He writes in his letters affectionately of his children.
On the Friday before his execution he was visited by his daughter,
Cecil, a fine girl of about ten years of age. The feelings of a father
were superior to every other consideration, and the falling tears, which
he endeavoured to suppress, gave strong proofs of his sensibility; he
embraced her with emotion, and blessed her with the warmest affection.
On the Sunday preceding his execution a respite of six weeks arrived for
Falconer and Bruce, the two people condemned for robbing the Dundee
Bank. The news made Brodie more serious for a little time than he had
before been, and he expressed his satisfaction at the event, declaring
that it gave him as much pleasure as if mercy had been extended to
himself. On Smith observing, “Six weeks is but a short period,” Brodie,
with some emotion, cried out, “George, what would you and I give for six
weeks longer? Six weeks would be an age to us!”
He made frequent inquiries about the alterations that were making at the
place of execution, which his friends declined answering out of
tenderness. He observed that the noise made by the workmen was like that
of shipbuilders; but for the short voyage he was going to make he
thought so much preparation was unnecessary. On being visited by a
friend on the Sunday evening he, with great calmness and composure, gave
the needful directions respecting his funeral, and acknowledged with
gratitude the attention that had been paid him during his confinement.
On the Monday preceding his death, at the request of George Smith, the
two prisoners, Falconer and Bruce, for whom a respite had been obtained,
were removed from the room in which they had all been confined. They
parted from their companions in misery with great feeling and
sensibility, and during the process of taking off their chains, Mr.
Brodie, with great calmness, remained an unaffected spectator. Nothing
appeared capable of shaking that fortitude which had attended him during
the whole of his confinement.
On Tuesday morning, the day before his execution, a gentleman, who was
visiting him, occasionally remarked the fatal consequences of being
connected with bad women, and in how many instances it had proved
ruinous. He began singing, with the greatest cheerfulness, from the
“Beggar’s Opera”--“‘Tis woman that seduces all mankind.” The gentleman
reproved this levity, but he sang out the song.
On the Tuesday evening, the 30th of September, the magistrates gave an
order that none should be admitted to him but clergymen--a report having
prevailed that there was an intention of putting self-destruction in his
power. But of this order he complained, appearing to have full
conviction of the dreadful consequences attending the crime of suicide;
and declared that if poison was placed on one hand and a dagger at the
other he would refuse them both, and not launch into eternity with the
horrid crime of self-murder to account for--he would submit to the
sentence of the laws of his country, and would wait his fate with
calmness and composure.
The nearer the fatal moment approached the greater his resolution and
fortitude appeared, without any adventitious aid, his manner of living
being rather abstemious. He astonished every one that conversed with
him, and his courage and magnanimity would have rendered his name
immortal had he fallen in a good cause.
Late in the evening, while he was inveighing with some acrimony on the
cruelty of not admitting his friends to him, he was suddenly agitated by
hearing some noise, and, turning to Smith, he said, “George do you know
what noise that is?” “No,” said Smith. “Then I’ll tell you; it is the
drawing out of the fatal beam on which you and I must suffer to-morrow!
I know it well.” Soon after eleven he went to bed, and slept till four
in the morning, and continued in bed till near eight o’clock without
discovering any symptoms of alarm at his approaching fate.
At nine o’clock the next morning (Wednesday, 1st October) he had his
hair fully dressed and powdered. Soon after a clergyman entered and
offered to pray with him. Mr. Brodie desired he might use despatch, and
make it as short as possible. During the remainder of his time he was
employed in the most painful of all trials--parting with his friends,
which he did with the utmost fortitude and composure.
At eleven o’clock he wrote the following letter to the Lord Provost, in
a strong, firm hand:--
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 goal; that he and my friends may have it
decently dressed and interred. This is the last favour and request
of
Your most obedient,
but most unfortunate,
WILL. BRODIE.
About eleven o’clock the chains which had been on Mr. Brodie’s legs
since his condemnation were taken off. He was then visited by a few
select friends, with whom he conversed with the greatest composure.
About one o’clock he ate a beef-steak and drank some port wine, and
during this last repast he made some ludicrous remarks to Smith.
At two o’clock the guard marched up and surrounded the place of
execution, at the west end of the Luckenbooths, and soon after the
captain on duty informed the magistrates, in the Council Chamber, that
all was ready. The magistrates then put on their robes of office; with
white gloves and white staves, and followed by the clergymen in black
gowns and bands, proceeded from the Council Chamber to the prison,
attended by the proper officers.
At two o’clock a message came from the magistrates that they were in
waiting, upon which Mr. Brodie said he was ready. He accordingly went
downstairs, insisting that Smith should go first. Upon passing the room
that Bruce and Falconer were in he took his farewell of them through the
grate of the door, observing that, as His Majesty had given them a
respite of six weeks, he did not doubt but he would at last grant them a
pardon. When he entered the west stair a glass of cinnamon water was
given him by some of his friends, with whom he still conversed most
familiarly.
The magistrates reached the scaffold about ten minutes after two. The
two senior magistrates only attended, as the other two gentlemen in the
magistracy happened to have been on the jury of the unfortunate
criminals; and in this singular case it was certainly a very becoming
delicacy to excuse their attendance.
About a quarter past two the criminals appeared on the platform. When
Mr. Brodie came on his scaffold he bowed politely to the magistrates and
the people.
Brodie, at the first view of the immense multitude of spectators and the
dreadful apparatus, said, “This is awful!” On passing a gentleman he
asked how he did, and said he was glad to see him. The gentleman
answered he was sorry to see Mr. Brodie in that situation. Brodie
replied, “It is _fortune de la guerre_.”
Brodie had on a full suit of black, his hair dressed and powdered; Smith
was dressed in white linen with black trimming. They were assisted in
their devotions by the Rev. Mr. Hardie, one of the ministers of the
city, and the Rev. Mr. Cleeve, of the Episcopal, and Mr. Hall, of the
Burgher persuasion. They spent some time in prayer, with seeming
fervency. Brodie knelt, laying a handkerchief under his knees. He prayed
by himself, nearly as follows:--“O Lord,-I acknowledge Thee as the Great
Ruler of the world; although I lament much that I know so little of
Thee, This much, however, I know, that Thou are a merciful God, and
that, as I am a great sinner, Thou wilt have mercy upon me, through the
merits of Thy Son Jesus Christ. O Lord, receive my soul! Into Thy hands
I resign it. Amen.”
When the devotions were over the great bell began to toll at half-minute
pauses, which had an awful and solemn effect. When the executioner
proceeded to bind his arms, Mr. Brodie requested that it might not be
done too tight, as he wished to have the use of his hands, at the same
time assuring his friends that he should not struggle. The criminals put
on white night-caps; and Smith, whose behaviour was highly penitent and
resigned, slowly ascended the platform, raised a few feet above the
scaffold, and placed immediately under the beam where the halters were
fixed. It is said Brodie tapped Smith on the shoulder, saying, “Go up,
George; you are first in hand.” He was followed by Brodie, who mounted
with alertness, and examined the dreadful apparatus with attention,
particularly the halter designed for himself, which he pulled with his
hand. It was found that the halters had been too much shortened, and
they were obliged to be taken down to alter. During this dreadful
interval Smith remained on the platform trembling, but Brodie stepped
briskly down to the scaffold, took off his night-cap, and again entered
into conversation with his friends, till the ropes were adjusted. And
though the dreadful moment of death was thus prolonged, he did not
complain, but apologised himself by saying that it was on a new
construction, and wanted nothing but practice to make it complete. He
then sprang up again upon the platform, which was raised much higher
than on former executions, but the rope was still improperly placed, and
he once more descended, showing some little impatience, and observed
that the executioner was a bungling fellow, and ought to be punished for
his stupidity--but that it did not much signify.
Before he ascended the platform the last time he was addressed by his
fellow-sufferer, George Smith; they then shook hands, and parted. Having
again ascended, he deliberately untied his cravat, buttoned up his
waistcoat and coat, and helped the executioner to fix the rope. He then
took a friend, who stood close by him, by the hand, bade him farewell,
and requested he would acquaint the world that he was still the same,
and that he died like a man. Then pulling the night-cap over his face,
he folded his arms, and placed himself in an attitude expressive of
firmness and resolution. Smith (who during the interruption, had been in
fervent devotion), soon after the adjustment of the halters, let fall a
handkerchief as a signal, and a few minutes before three o’clock the
platform dropped, and they, were launched into eternity, almost without
a struggle.
The crowd of spectators within the street, in view of the place of
execution, it has been calculated, could not have been less than 40,000,
great numbers having come from all parts of the country. Luckily no
accident of any consequence happened, which was much to be feared from
the greatness of the crowd. One of the city officers fell from the
platform to the top of the building where it was erected, and was
considerably cut and bruised, but we hear not dangerously.
Brodie neither confessed nor denied the crime for which he suffered. To
a gentleman who visited him the day before the execution, he said he
thought it was hard to suffer for such a paltry sum, and appealing to
Smith, he said, “George, it was not more than four pounds a piece.”
Smith answered he did not think it was so much, but he (Brodie) should
know, for he counted the money.
Smith, with great fervency, confessed in prayer his being guilty and the
justice of his sentence.
Much anxiety was shown that Brodie’s body might not be detained in
prison, and after the magistrates retired a vein was opened. It is said
other means of recovery were used after it was taken away, but the neck
was found to be dislocated.
Thus fell William Brodie, a just sacrifice to the laws of his country,
and whilst we lament his fate we cannot but admire that impartiality,
that integrity with which justice is administered; for however great,
respected, or exalted the culprit, it affords no shield to protect from
punishment or save from disgrace. This feeling would here suggest to
bury with his bones his crimes, his follies, and his errors; and whilst
we profit by his example, we cannot but lament how improperly those
abilities were applied which might have done an honour to himself and
family. His untimely fate claims the tribute of a tear, for if those who
possess fortitude, courage, benevolence, and humanity claim our
admiration, such was William Brodie.
APPENDIX XVI.
THE OLD EXCISE OFFICE.
(From the _Daily Review_ of 24th January, 1873.)
One after another houses rich in historical associations and of a
character that rendered the Old Town of Edinburgh remarkable, are being
swept away by our Improvement Trustees. Their disappearance, while
undoubtedly required for the sake of the sanitary welfare of their
neighbourhoods, must excite in the minds of many a twinge of regret on
several accounts; and as in the case of remarkable men, we cannot suffer
their removal from the places that knew them so long to take place
without directing attention to their distinctive features and history.