CHAPTER XXV.

The Interest in the Trial—Public Feeling as to the Remit—Press Opinions—Attack on Dr. Knox’s House.

The news of the result of the trial spread rapidly. All the Edinburgh newspapers gave lengthened reports of the proceedings—putting the “affairs of State” to a side for once—and in those cases where the usual publication day of a journal was on the Thursday, the day on which the trial closed, second editions containing the verdict and sentence were issued. TheEvening Courantwas at the pains to obtain statistics of the circulation of the newspapers. Between the Thursday morning and Saturday night it was calculated that not fewer than 8000 extra copies were sold, representing a money value of nearly £240. This was certainly surprising when the high price charged for the journals is taken into account, and is a testimony to the intense interest taken in the trial by the people at large.

The result of the trial was received with mingled feelings. The liveliest satisfaction was felt at the conviction of Burke; but the dismissal of M‘Dougal, and the probable escape of Hare and his wife through having become informers, caused a great amount of discontent. The evidence given by the two principal witnesses showed that they were as much guilty of the offence as Burke himself, and an impression began to get abroad that Hare was after all the leading spirit in the conspiracy, and that he had, as the counsel for the defence had suggested, made Burke his last victim. This strong dislike, or rather detestation, to Hare did not, however, have a compensating effect by producing sympathy for Burke—the popularmind was too deeply convinced of his guilt to think that he other than fully deserved the doom that had been pronounced upon him. And the peculiar feature of the matter was this, that while there was no need for the Lord Advocate proceeding further against Burke in respect of the first and second charges on the indictment, since he had been condemned on the third, the great mass of the people pronounced an unmistakable verdict of guilty against him for the murder of Daft Jamie; and theCourantshortly after the trial deepened the impression by stating that it was Burke himself who enticed the poor natural into his den, though there is every reason to believe that this was a mistake. The disappearance and cruel fate of that unfortunate lad had perhaps more to do with the “prejudice,” as it was called at the trial, against the two prisoners and their accomplices than any other item in the case.

TheCaledonian Mercuryof Thursday, the 25th December, the day on which sentence was passed, had the following among other comments on the proceedings of the previous twenty-four hours:—

“No trial in the memory of any man now living has excited so deep, universal and (we may also add) appalling an interest as that of William Burke and his female associate. By the statements which have from time appeared in the newspapers, public feeling has been worked up to its highest pitch of excitement, and the case, in so far as the miserable pannels were concerned, prejudiced by the natural abhorrence which the account of a new and unparalleled crime is calculated to excite.... At the same time, it is not so much to the accounts published in the newspapers which merely embodied and gave greater currency to the statements circulating in Society, as to the extraordinary, nay, unparalleled circumstances of the case, that the strong excitement of the public mind must be ascribed. These are without any precedent in the records of our criminal practice, and, in fact, amount to the realization of a nursery tale. The recent deplorable increase of crime has made us familiar with several new atrocities: poisoning is now, it seems, rendered subsidiary to the commission of theft: stabbing, and attempts at assassination, are matters of almost everydayoccurrence; and murder has grown so familiar to us, that it has almost ceased to be viewed with that instinctive and inexpressible dread which the commission of the greatest crime against the laws of God and society used to excite. But the present is the first instance of murder alleged to have been perpetrated with aforethought purpose and intent of selling the murdered body as a subject of dissection to anatomists; it is a new species of assassination, or murder for hire; and as such, no less than from the general horror felt by the people of this country at the process, from ministering to which the reward was expected, it was certainly calculated to make a deep impression on the public mind, and to awaken feelings of strong and appalling interest in the time of the trial. Of the extent to which this had taken place, it was easy to judge from what was everywhere observable on Monday and Tuesday. The approaching trial formed the universal topic of conversation, and all sorts of speculations and conjectures were afloat as to the circumstances likely to be disclosed in the course of it, and the various results to which it would eventually lead. As the day drew near, the interest deepened; and it was easy to see that the common people shared strongly in the general excitement. The coming trial they expected to disclose something which they had often dreamed of or imagined, or heard recounted around an evening’s fire, like a raw-head-and-bloody bones story, but which they never, in their sober judgment, either feared or believed to be possible; and they looked forward to it with corresponding but indescribable emotions. In short, all classes participated more or less in a common feeling respecting the case of this unhappy man and his associate; all expected fearful disclosures; none, we are convinced, wished for anything but justice.”

This was the expectation of the public, but it was, unfortunately, not altogether realised. True, the mystery attending the murder of Mrs. Docherty had been cleared up, but owing to the legal objections nothing had been said as to how Mary Paterson and Daft Jamie met their death. This had operated against a proper disclosure in more ways than one. The limitation of the indictment confined the informer’s evidence, one-sided though it undoubtedly was, to one crime, andprevented it being given in the case of the others; and, further, that limitation did away with the necessity of calling Dr. Knox and the other medical men whose names were on the list of witnesses, and who were supposed to be mixed up in the transaction. “Where are the Doctors?” was the question when the trial closed without any appearance of them; and it was repeated out of court with threatening emphasis. In the case which went to trial, and on which Burke was condemned, there was really no need for them. The body had been recovered and identified; there was no doubt as to the murder; the whole subject of inquiry was—By whom was it committed? Had the other charges in the indictment gone to the knowledge of an assize, the evidence of the doctors and their assistants would have been required, for they, and they only, could have spoken to the appearance and probable identity of subjects supplied to them about certain dates, and supposed to be the bodies of the unfortunate victims of the persons placed at the bar. Then, they would have been indispensible; as it was, they were not needed, with the result that public curiosity had only been whetted, not satisfied. And a circumstance that helped to make this feeling all the more intense was that the indictment, in so far as it related to the first two charges, seemed to have been framed on information supplied by Hare; while the fact that the Lord Advocate made them part of the libel, and intimated the production of certain articles belonging to the two victims, gave more than reasonable ground for the assumption that he was convinced he had a good case, otherwise he would not have sought to lay it before a jury. This fact, combined with the natural thirst for legal vengeance, gave the public hope that the officers for the Crown would be able to put Hare and his wife upon their trial for some crime other than any that were mentioned in the indictment, but in the same series, and that by this means the whole plot, with all relating to it, would be laid bare.

All these circumstances caused a strong feeling of discontent among every class of the community, but especially among the lower orders, who seemed to think their lives menaced by criminals of the stamp of Burke and Hare. Much excitementconsequently prevailed, but though disturbances were feared by the authorities, no serious breach of the public peace occurred until Sunday, 28th December. On that day a band of young men attacked Dr. Knox’s house in Minto Street, and they were only driven off by a strong force of police after they had broken a great quantity of window-glass.

Burke’s Behaviour in Prison—Liberation of M‘Dougal, and the Consequent Riot—Visitors at Burke’s House in the West Port—Burke’s Idea of the Obligations of Dr. Knox—His Confessions.

All through the trial Burke had seemed callous and indifferent, but when he was removed from the court-room to the lock-up he was considerably agitated. He threw himself on his knees on the floor of his cell and prayed to God, to whom he had long been a stranger, and to whose mercy the judge had so earnestly commended him. After this he appeared to be considerably relieved, and during the rest of the day he was comparatively cheerful. He spoke a good deal to the policeman who was beside him, and said he was pleased at the acquittal of M‘Dougal. Without any hesitation he conversed freely about the murder of Docherty, who, he said, was not murdered by him in the way described by Hare. That individual was himself the murderer, though, he admitted, he had held the unfortunate woman’s hands to prevent her from struggling. The policeman was a fair type of the public, as a question he put to Burke amply proved. He told Burke that he wondered above all things how he could imbrue his hands in the blood of Daft Jamie. That Burke was in a state of semi-delirium is shown by his answer—as he hoped to meet with mercy at the throne of grace, his hand was not concernedin that murder; Hare and his wife were the sole perpetrators of it, though he had decoyed the poor simpleton into their house. That his mind was in a strange state he admitted by adding, that after he was more composed he would make disclosures that would implicate several others besides Hare and his wife in crimes similar to that for which he was condemned; and if he could make sure of the hanging of Hare, he would die happy. How did he feel when pursuing his horrible vocation? was the next query of the constable. In his waking moments he had no feeling, for he drank to deaden conscience, but when he slept he had frightful dreams. He also expressed a wish that one of his counsel should call on him that he might furnish him with notes of his life and adventures, as he desired his history to be published, whether for notoriety or as a warning to others, he did not say. In the course of that evening he read two chapters of the Bible, and afterwards retired to rest. His sleep, however, was not peaceful. He awoke in a frantic state every now and then; but after a short time he became more composed, and fell asleep again.

At two o’clock on Friday morning he was removed quietly in a coach to the Calton Hill Prison, and placed in the condemned cell. Here the frenzy under which he had been labouring since his condemnation took another turn. He threw aside the semi-religious feeling which seemed to sway his mind the day before, and turned fiercely to the jailor—for there was always one beside him, as, before his trial, he had threatened self-destruction—and said: “This is a d——d cold place you have brought me till.” The thirst for vengeance against Hare was still strong in him. He sat thinking over their connection, and broke out every now and again into curses against his one-time associate. Hare, he declared, was more guilty than he was. “Hare,” he said, “murdered the first woman. He persuaded me to join him, and now he has murdered me; and I will regret to the last hour of my existence that he did not share the same fate.” An officer said to him, “I think I could never wish to see that man forgiven who could murder that poor, harmless, good-natured idiot, Daft Jamie.” Burke replied with fierce earnestness:—“My days are numbered. I am soon to die by the hands of man. I have no more to fear, andcan have no interest in telling a lie, and I declare that I am as innocent of Daft Jamie’s blood as you are. He was taken into Hare’s house and murdered by him and his wife. To be sure I was guilty so far, as I assisted to carry his body to Dr. Knox, and got a share of the money.” Later in the day, he dropped into the frame of mind in which he was after his sentence, and willingly acknowledged to his jailors that he was guilty, though beyond that he declined to satisfy their curiosity. As the evening advanced he asked if he would be allowed to pray. There was, of course, no objection, and again he petitioned the Almighty for forgiveness, and specially mentioned Helen M‘Dougal, that her heart might be touched and turned from evil.

This was the night on which M‘Dougal was liberated. It was feared that the infuriated mob that paced the streets of the city after the close of the trial would tear her to pieces, and she had, as a matter of safety, been detained in the lock-up. Immediately on her liberation, she returned to her house in the West Port, and remained there unmolested until the next night. Then she went out to a shop in the neighbourhood for the purpose of purchasing some whisky—Burke’s prayer had not yet been answered. The shop-keeper refused to supply her, and on her way home she was noticed by a number of boys, who, recognising her, raised the cry—“There’s M‘Dougal.” Speedily a crowd assembled—a rough, tumultous crowd, strongly under the sway of Judge Lynch. Fortunately for her, the police came to her rescue, and, again for safety, took her to the watch-house in Wester Portsburgh. The infuriated mob endeavoured to prevent this, and sought to tear the woman from the grasp of the officers in order that they might execute summary justice upon her; but her guardians drew their staves, and by laying about them in a determined manner, attained their purpose. At last the watch-house was reached, but still M‘Dougal was not safe. The crowd, which had grown to huge dimensions, attacked the place from every side, smashed the windows, and seemed so determined to gain admittance and work their will upon the unfortunate woman, that the officers, judging themselves unable to make sufficient stand, had her dressed in men’s clothes, and she escaped by aback window unobserved. A show of resistance was made for a short time to allow M‘Dougal to reach a place of safety, and then it was announced to the mob that she was being detained in order to give evidence against Hare. This pacified the passions of the people, for they were willing she should escape in the meantime if there was any chance of making sure that Hare would be punished, and they quietly dispersed. M‘Dougal, though out of the office, was still under police protection, and on Sunday, 28th December, she was accompanied outside the city, on her way to Stirlingshire, with, it was stated, between ten and twelve pounds in her possession.

Up till the Friday night following the trial, the house occupied by Burke and M‘Dougal, in the West Port, was visited by great crowds of people, who wished, out of curiosity, to see the place where such foul crimes had been perpetrated. On that night, however, the person who had the key gave it up to the landlord, as he wished to escape the imputation cast upon him by some, that he had been making money by showing it off. On the following Sunday, also, the street was crowded by well-dressed people, all attracted to the scene by its evil reputation. Here is the description given by one of the Edinburgh newspapers of that period, of the houses occupied by Burke and his accomplice:—“The immediate entrance to it [Burke’s house] is appropriate—namely, through a dark passage, where the women stood while the murder of the Irish woman was being perpetrated. The dwelling is one small room, an oblong square, which presents the exact appearance it had when the culprits were apprehended. There is still the straw at the foot of the bed, in which the murdered woman was concealed. Altogether, it has an air of the most squalid poverty and want of arrangement. On the floor is a quantity of wretched old shoes, of all sizes, meant by Burke, perhaps, to indicate his being a cobbler; but they are so wretchedly worn, that we cannot suppose they were left with him to be mended, or that he designed to improve their appearance, for the purpose of selling them. We incline to think that they belonged to some of his victims. The dwelling is most conveniently situate for the murderous trade he pursued—there being many obscure approaches to it from different directions. Hare’sdwelling, also, has attracted many visitors. Its appearance is equally deplorable with that of Burke. It is on the ground-floor, consists of two apartments, and overlooks a gloomy close. Beside it is a sort of stable, used by Hare as a pig-stye, and secured with a large padlock. In this it is believed Hare and Burke committed many of their butcheries; and here, we are inclined to think, Daft Jamie encountered his fate.”

But to return to Burke in the condemned cell. As the time passed on, his mind appeared to be agitated for brief intervals, though in general he seemed resigned to the fate his crimes so richly deserved. On one occasion he broke out in a curious manner. He had been sitting quietly, apparently thinking over his past life, and of the near approach of its end, when he startled his attendant by saying—

“I think I am entitled, and ought to get that five pounds from Dr. Knox which is still unpaid on the body of Docherty.”

“Why, Dr. Knox lost by the transaction, as the body was taken from him,” was the reply of the amazed warder.

“That was not my business,” said Burke. “I delivered the subject, and he ought to have kept it.”

“But you forget that were the money paid, Hare would have the right to the half of it,” argued the other.

“I have got a tolerable pair of trousers,” explained Burke, musingly, “and since I am to appear before the public, I should like to be respectable. I have not a coat and waistcoat that I can appear in, and if I got that five pounds I could buy them.”

As the time went on Burke was induced to make a confession of his crimes. On the 3rd of January, 1829, he dictated a confession before Sheriff Tait, the Procurator-Fiscal, and the assistant Sheriff-Clerk; and on the 22nd of the same month he supplemented it by a short statement, made in the presence of the same parties, with the addition of the Rev. Wm. Reid, a Roman Catholic priest. Application was made to the Lord Advocate by an Edinburgh gentleman to obtain admission to Burke’s cell to receive a confession from the criminal, but this was refused; and on an appeal being made to the Home Secretary the refusal was confirmed. On the 21st of January, however, the condemned man made another and fullerconfession, but this time unofficial, and this document had such a curious history that an account of it must be reserved until the proper time. Between his condemnation and execution Burke was visited by Protestant and Roman Catholic clergymen, and he received the ministrations of both without preference.

“The Complicity of the Doctors”—Numerous Disappearances—Dr. Knox and David Paterson—Paterson Defends Himself—“The Echo of Surgeon’s Square”—The Scapegoat.

As time went on the excitement among the public increased, and the newspapers, thoroughly roused to the importance of the West Port murders, and freed from restraint by the decision of the court, spoke out fearlessly. “The complicity of the doctors,” as it was called, came in for a large share of attention and severe comment; while rumours as to the action the authorities intended to take regarding Hare and his wife were eagerly canvassed. It was stated that Hare, after the trial, made important disclosures, confessing to having been concerned in no less than twelve different acts of murder, in some of which he was the principal, in others an accessory; and that he knew of another, though he was not in any way a party to the commission of it. Then it was said that Burke had confessed to having sold some thirty or thirty-five uninterred bodies during the previous two years, and it was argued that these could only have been obtained by murder, notably the murder of unfortunate women, large numbers of whom had mysteriously disappeared in that time, no one knew how. Natural deaths had become very rare among that class, and for some time the interment of one of them was a thing almost unknown. This, it was argued, showed that a giganticconspiracy to murder, for the purpose of obtaining subjects for dissection, had been going on in Edinburgh, and it was suspected that the gang was larger than it really was. A medical man informed a journalist that in the autumn of 1828 the body of a woman was offered for sale by some miscreants—“probably of Burke’s gang,” was the opinion hazarded—to the assistant of an eminent teacher of anatomy in Edinburgh. The assistant did not know them, for they were not regular resurrectionists—he knewthemwell enough—but as he required a subject, he told them to bring the body, and if it were suitable he would purchase it. The body was conveyed to the dissecting-room the same evening, and on being turned out of the sack the assistant was startled to see it was that of a woman of the town, with her clothes and shoes and stockings on. He carefully examined the body, and found there was an enormous fracture on the back of the head, and a large portion of the skull driven in, as if by the blow of a hammer. With an oath he asked them where and how they got the body, and one of them coolly replied that it was the body of an unfortunate who had beenpoppedin a brawl in Halkerston’s Wynd. The “subject” was refused, and the merchants had to take it elsewhere.

This and many similar stories naturally gave rise to a demand for a searching investigation alike in the public interest and in the interests of the teachers of anatomy themselves. It was advocated that all the anatomical teachers, and others who usedcadaverafor their classes, both in and out of the university, ought to be examined as to the manner in which they were accustomed to receive their subjects. In particular, the assistants and students of Dr. Knox during the two previous sessions ought to undergo an examination as to the quarter whence bodies were procured, the state in which they were received, and the manner in which they were dissected. Without such a complete and thorough examination, it was argued, the public could have no guarantee that every anatomical teacher in Edinburgh had not a Burke in his pay; for it seemed to be the impression in the minds of the people “that one gentleman stands in the same relation to Burke that the murderer of Banquo did to Macbeth.”

TheEdinburgh Weekly Chroniclewas especially outspoken in respect to Dr. Knox. “With regard to Dr. Knox,” this journal said, “too much delicacy and reserve have been maintained by a part of the press. When the atrocities in question first transpired, it was stated that Knox conducted himself with the utmost civility towards the police officers who went to his house in search of the body, when the fact is, he swore at them from his window, and threatened to blow their brains out; and it was only upon their proceeding to force the door of his lecture-room, that it was opened by one of the keepers.” From Knox, theChroniclepassed on to Paterson, his curator or porter, who, that journal asserted, “actually offered Docherty for sale to a respectable gentleman in the profession before she was despatched; he saw her in Burke’s house immediately after the spark of life had been extinguished; and he then again offered her for fifteen pounds to the same gentleman, who indignantly ordered him out of his house.” TheCaledonian Mercurywas equally plain, and would give no countenance to the idea that Knox and his assistants had been imposed upon by Burke and Hare, and gave all its weight in favour of the “complicity” idea. It also repeated the story of the supposed negotiations between Paterson and “the most respectable teacher of anatomy” as to the sale of Docherty’s body for fifteen pounds, with this addition that he stated to the gentleman in question, on his second visit, “that the body he wished to dispose of was the body of a woman; and that he had ‘a desperate gang’ in his pay, through whom he could procure as many subjects as he wished for.”

Knox remained silent under all these charges, but Paterson could not, and he wrote a letter on the 15th January to the editor of theCaledonian Mercury. He contended that he had been shamefully wronged by “the many false and cruel accusations made against him,” and stated that he had “only kept silence by advice of Dr. Knox, as he was, according to promise, to espouse my cause, and clear my innocence; but which I now find he has cruelly failed to perform. And I now most solemnly protest, and can prove, that throughout all the services rendered by me to Dr. Knox, I acted entirely under his own guidance and direction.” He also denieda statement to the effect that he had absconded, and had been dismissed from Dr. Knox’s service; and he called upon the authorities, if they conceived him in any way guilty in the transaction, to bring him to a public trial, and either let him be found guilty or have the benefit of an honourable acquittal. To this letter the editor of theMercuryappended some questions, but these will be best explained by a quotation from a letter from Paterson, dated 17th January, 1829, in reply to them. He says:—“After the publication of my letter to you in this day’s paper, I observe you have inserted the following queries:—First, whether it be true or the reverse, that about one o’clock on the morning of 1st November last, I, in conjunction with another individual whom I well know, offered the body of a woman for sale to a highly-respectable lecturer on anatomy? My answer is simply, No. Secondly, whether or not I asked fifteen pounds for the subject, stating at the same time, that Dr. Knox would give only twelve?—Answer, No. Thirdly, whether I did not say, that I wished to have no further dealings with the Doctor, because he had handed us over to his (the Dr.’s) assistants? My answer is, No. And lastly, whether the body so offered was or was not the body of the woman Docherty? To this I answer, that having no body to offer, the transaction could not take place.” Paterson proceeded to explain, however, that about three weeks before the murder of Docherty a friend of the “most respectable anatomist,” referred to by theMercury, called on him and asked where the individuals lived that were in the habit of supplying Dr. Knox with subjects. He did not know, so he could not give any information, but as the sum of fifteen pounds was offered for a subject he promised that the next time he saw the resurrectionists he would mention the matter to them, provided, always, that Dr. Knox was supplied. Paterson again gave a most emphatic denial to the statement of his dismissal, which theMercuryhad reported upon the authority of Dr. Knox himself, and he enclosed a copy of a letter from that gentleman, dated the 11th January, asking him to return to his employment.

Again theMercuryreturned to the charge, and said:—“Now this is not a question of probability but offact;and we again ask him (Paterson),whosewas the corpse he confessedly offered for sale an hour or an hour and a-halfafterBurke had, according to his own evidence in the witness-box, told him he had ‘something for the doctor, which would be ready in the morning.’” Paterson replied to this on the 23rd January, and complained that he was being made “the scape-goat for a personage in higher life.” As his letter is not only interesting in itself, but also because there is introduced in it an account of a transaction with Andrew Merrilees—the Merry Andrew of an early chapter of this work—it is worth quoting pretty fully.

“I will now give you,” says Paterson, “what I trust the public will consider asatisfactoryexplanation of the transaction alluded to in your paper of the 22nd, which will at the same time answer the queries in theCaledonian Mercuryof the 17th. About three weeks before the murder of Docherty, a Mr. —— called upon me, who was very intimate (or appeared to be so) with Dr. ——. During the conversation, in a walk along the Bridges, the topic turned upon the scarcity of subjects amongst the lecturers. I was asked how Dr. —— was supplied; and after informing him to the best of my knowledge, he, Mr. ——, said he understood that Dr. —— could not get one, and that he had offered him fifteen pounds if he could get one for him. My answer was, that I thought there was nothing more easy, as there were plenty of resurrection men came about Dr. ——’s rooms, who might procure one for him. He then requested me to accompany him to Dr. ——’s house, and he would ascertain if Dr. —— had got one. I did so. Dr. —— and Mr. —— talked for some time on various matters, when the discourse turned upon the matter in question. I heard Dr. —— offer fifteen pounds for a subject, as he was in great straits.I took no part in the conversation, nor made any remark; but after we had left Dr. ——, Mr. —— strongly urged me to allow a subject to go to Dr. ——’s rooms, when any should arrive, without the knowledge of Dr. ——, for which no doubtI was to receive a remuneration for my trouble. Dr. —— about that time had fifteen subjects, and I did resolve to allow one to Dr. —— at the first opportunity. Shortly after this time,Burke and Hare brought a subject, but not having an opportunity of speaking to them that night, resolved to do so when I next saw them, or anyotherof the resurrectionists. A few days after a notorious resurrectionist called at the rooms and informed me that he was going to the country upon business, and inquired if the Dr. was in want of goods. I replied that possibly he might, but that I wanted one for a friend, and would pay him when he returned. The bargain was struck, and he received earnest and a trunk, saying he had two customers before me, and it might be eight or ten days before he could supply me, as the grounds were strictly watched. This passed over, and on Friday evening, the 31st October, a person brought a letter addressed to Mr. ——, Surgeon’s Square. This turned out to be from Andrew M——s (or Merry Andrew, as he was styled). The following is a literal copy:—

“‘Oct. 29.“‘Doctor am in the east, and has been doin little busnis, an short of siller send out abot aught and twenty shilins way the carer the thing will bee in abot 4 on Saturday mornin its a shusa, hae the plase open.“‘And. M——s.’

“‘Oct. 29.

“‘Doctor am in the east, and has been doin little busnis, an short of siller send out abot aught and twenty shilins way the carer the thing will bee in abot 4 on Saturday mornin its a shusa, hae the plase open.

“‘And. M——s.’

Just after I received this letter I went with Mr. —— to spend the evening, and returned home about twelve o’clock. I found Burke knocking at the door of my lodgings.... After my return from Burke’s, which was only a few minutes past twelve o’clock, I went to bed: the letter had escaped my memory. I slept none: the suspicions I had entertained of Burke and Hare, and the determination I had come toto examine the body of the subject they were to send, and a retrospective view of their late conduct, passed before me. The letter now came into my mind; it was betweenthree and four o’clock: I went to Dr. ——; did say I expected a subject from his friend:did not say what place. The Doctor desired it to be sent to his lecture-rooms, as his assistants were or would be in waiting. He did not refuse it, as has been alleged. The Doctor did not receive it, however, as Mr. Andrew M——s thought proper to address it to another quarter—a very common trick with him, especially if he received part in advance.... I confess that the circumstance of the subject coming from theeast at the nick of time Docherty was murdered looks rather suspicious. But when I inform you that I have seen three subjects at the same time of day sent to the lecture-room from different quarters, your suspicions will cease.” For the third time he denied that he had been dismissed by Dr. Knox, and said that since his last letter the Doctor had sent for him, expressing the most friendly intentions towards him.

But a more serious charge than that was made against David Paterson in a communication from Dr. Knox’s principal assistants, also published in theCaledonian Mercury. These gentlemen, after declaring that Paterson was not “keeper of the museum belonging to Dr. Knox,” though he was cited and gave his evidence at the trial of Burke as such, said:—“With regard to his connexion with Burke and Hare, he was so far associated with them, that he was on the eve of entering into an agreement with one of these miscreants to accompany him to Ireland, that they might (as he said) procure a greater supply of subjects, and at less price, the people being poorer there.” Whether this was the case or not was never made clear; but it was certainly stated by Burke in hisCourantconfessions that such a project was on foot, though he did not state who the other party was. Popular belief was that it was Paterson.

Paterson had taken another method of repelling the allegations brought against him. This was a pamphlet, in the form of a letter to the Lord Advocate, under the title of “An Echo from Surgeon’s Square.” TheCourantof Thursday, 22nd January, gave an account of this document, and taking it all in all, after making allowance for the prejudice the paper exhibited in common with the great mass of the public against the man, it is a fair indication of its contents. The statement, it said, had for its object the vindication of Mr. D. Paterson, the late assistant of Dr. Knox, and of course threw the blame on others. The pamphlet contained a good deal of irrelevant matter, and sundry details as to the means of procuring subjects for the anatomical schools which were not of great interest, and rather calculated to do injury. It contained, however, “information of greater importance, if it can be depended on, which we have no doubt will be eagerly soughtafter in the present general excitation.” The document stated that D—— P—— was first in the employment of Dr. —— in the year 1824 or 1825, for about one year, and, on his return from the army at the close of 1827, he applied to Dr. —— for his former situation, and was engaged in the beginning of February, 1828, as museum keeper; his salary was very small, but from the fees paid him by the students, he contrived to make a very comfortable livelihood. He had nothing whatever to do with the subjects (or bodies) brought to the lecture room; his sole duty was to keep the museum. At that time he did not know how the doctor obtained his subjects. Shortly after he saw Burke and Hare (Burke was called John, and Hare, William), and understood from a conversation that passed between them and one of the assistants that they had been in the habit of supplying subjects previous to that time. He threw the blame of negociating with these two men on one of Dr. Knox’s assistants, and said that once, after he began to be suspicious of the true nature of the calling of these two men, he asked Burke where he got the body he was then offering. The man replied sternly—“If I am to be catechised by you where and how I get subjects, I will inform the doctor of it, and if he allows you to do so, I will bring no more to him, mind that.” In other respects the “Echo” was very similar to the letter by Paterson already quoted.

But before concluding this part of the subject it will be proper to give Leighton’s opinion of Paterson’s position in the dispute. Writing in 1860 on the complicity of the doctors, he gives this calm testimony in Paterson’s favour:—“As for the curator, who is still a respectable inhabitant of Edinburgh, and upon whom the short-lived blind fury of some newspapers of the time fell, with much surprise to himself, and much indignation elsewhere, he was, of all the parties concerned, the most free from blame; nor did any one but himself come forward and assist the authorities in the prosecution. Nay, it is understood that, under a passing reflection that the number of apparently unexhumed bodies brought by these men required explanation; he mentioned the circumstance to his principal, and that gentleman silenced him at once by the statement that they had long known of the practice of sale and purchase, andso the suspicion passed away.” Viewing the whole matter after the lapse of fully half a century, there seems no reason to doubt that Paterson, though certain of his acts were, to say the least of it, shady, and morally reprehensible, if not legally punishable, was made, as he himself said, “the scape-goat for a personage in higher life.”

The Legal Position of Hare and his Wife—Gossip about Burke—Mrs. Hare and her Child—Constantine Burke—Anatomical Instruction—Mrs. Docherty’s Antecedents.

But in addition to this outcry against Paterson, the public mind was, as has already been indicated, agitated by the rumours that no further action was to be taken against Hare, and that he and his wife were to be liberated. TheCaledonian Mercurywas greatly exercised over the following passage in the charge given to the jury at the trial by the Lord Justice-Clerk:—“They (the jury) had been told of the Hares being concerned in the murders. With what murders they might be chargeable, he did not know; but to a certainty they could not be libelled on either of the charges contained in the indictment now under trial, and which had not been sent to the jury.” TheMercuryargued, and quoted legal authorities, too, that Hare and his wife were liable to be tried for the murders of Mary Paterson and Daft Jamie, regarding which they had not given evidence; and that the protection of the court only extended to any self-crimination in the case in which they had given evidence. “The public prosecutor,” it was contended, “has discharged all title to molest them in regard to the murder of Docherty, the only part of the libel against Burke which went to trial, because they gave evidence and criminated themselves in regard to the crime; but he has not dischargedthis title to pursue them for the murder of Paterson or Daft Jamie; and, accordingly, when Mr. Cockburn proposed to interrogate Hare in his cross-examination, concerning his connection with the latter crime, the Court interposed, by telling the witness that he was entitled to decline answering such a question as tending to criminate himself, and as beyond the reach of the protection afforded him for his evidence in the case of Docherty. It was frequently stated from the bench, that his answering the question put by Mr. Cockburn would implicate himself in the crime. And how else could he have been entitled to decline answering it? As a protectedsocius, he was bound to answer every question that should be asked him within the compass of that protection; and if it had extended to and included the murder of Jamie, which was included in the same charge, the obligation to answer would, of course, have been co-extensive with the protection.” TheEdinburgh Weekly Chroniclelamented “the acquittal of the fiend M‘Dougal,” and said there had been some very painful suspicions that the investigation of these murders was not to be further prosecuted. “We happen to know,” they said, “that a certain public functionary (not the Lord Advocate, whose zeal in forwarding the late trial is beyond all praise) remarked the other day thattheywere perfectly sick of the business, and were resolved to stir no further in it, lest it should bring shame on the city!... In the present state of the public mind, no Lord Advocate will dare to say, ‘Thus far—(to the death of Burke)—shall the tide of public vengeance flow, and no farther.’... It is satisfactory to reflect, however, that our law has wisely restricted the Lord Advocate’s prerogative, so that, even were he disposed, he cannot screen a murderer from justice, if the deceased’s relations incline to prosecute him. The law says that murder shall not go unavenged, if either the public, represented by the Lord Advocate, or those who have been deprived by it of a near relative, insist for punishment. Will not, then, the friends of some of the butchered individuals, whose blood calls to Heaven for retribution, be roused to prosecute the butchers? No one candoubt that money would be liberally provided by the inhabitants to defray all expenses.”

The rumours which so alarmed these newspapers, and, it must also be said, a large portion of the public, had foundation in fact. After Hare and his wife had given evidence against Burke, they were recommitted to jail under a warrant of the Sheriff. This was done, probably, to allow the Lord Advocate time to consider in what relationship he stood towards them—whether he could try them on the first two charges in the indictment, or whether he was bound to release them, they having turned King’s evidence. He seems to have come to the conclusion that he must liberate them, and, accordingly, on the 19th of January, the commitment was withdrawn. This was a wise decision, notwithstanding all that was said to the contrary at the time in the public prints and elsewhere. If the Crown could not gain a conviction against Burke of the murder of Docherty without the aid of two of his accomplices, it was not at all likely that it would be able to convict Hare and his wife without similar evidence. Thus, so far as the public prosecutor was concerned, the two informers were free; but proceedings of another kind were taken against Hare, who was detained in prison pending their settlement, though his wife was liberated on the 19th of January.

Other matters were also attracting the attention of the people, for every issue of the newspapers gave circulation to gossipy stories about Burke or his accomplices, or relating to circumstances bearing in some way or other upon the subject which was causing such universal interest. It was stated, for instance, that at one time Burke made considerable sums of money among the unlettered inhabitants of the West Port by writing begging petitions, and that while working at the construction of the Union Canal he for the first time engaged in the trade of a resurrectionist. Whatever truth there may have been in the first part of this statement, there is good reason to believe that the latter part was founded upon mere idle rumour. It was also alleged that in the course of the preceding summer Burke made an attack upon an unfortunate girl in St. Cuthbert’s Entry, at the head of the West Port, evidently with murderous intent. She escaped from his grasp, and ranto the watch-house, where she gave a particular description of her assailant to the police, who would certainly have been able to apprehend him had he not judiciously left the city for a time until the hue and cry was given up. It is difficult to believe that Burke would have acted so incautiously—that he should have sought to dispense with that drugging with whisky which so often did half his work for him. His friendly relationship with certain members of the police force was emphasised by a statement that he was in the habit of going home at any hour of the night or morning, always accompanied by the constable on the beat, to whom he gave a glass or two of whisky out of a bottle he carried with him, and it was urged that an inquiry should be made into this breach of discipline.

Such were the items of gossip about Burke, to which publicity was given by the newspapers, but a charge of a serious kind was made against Mrs. Hare in the issue of theCourantpublished on the 1st January, 1829. It was stated that Mrs. Hare, after Log’s death, and at the beginning of her relationship with Hare, bore a child, which the people of the neighbourhood asserted was murdered by her. So confidently was this allegation put forward that it was added that there would be no difficulty in obtaining sufficient evidence to establish a case against her for destroying the life of the infant. A singular fact was mentioned in the same paper in connection with Hare. His mother and sister from Ireland arrived in Edinburgh a day or two before, purposing to visit him, and it was not until they were within two miles of the city that they were apprised of the fact that he was involved in a series of the most shocking murders. Another statement was that Hare, in the course of the summer of 1828, had murdered a young woman who was a servant to one of the city clergymen. This, if true, would point to the identity of the body over the proceeds from the sale of which Burke quarrelled with his colleague.

Another person who came in for a share of public attention was Constantine Burke, the brother of the condemned man, in whose house in the Canongate, it has been seen, Mary Paterson was murdered. After the trial he was continually in danger of being maltreated by the mob, and at last the Sheriff gave him asmall sum of money to enable him and his family to leave the city. According to theCourant, Constantine had always been a sober, industrious, poverty-pressed man. He admitted having once taken a chest to Surgeon’s Square, being conducted to the place by his brother and Hare, although he was not aware of its contents or its destination. Receiving ten shillings for his trouble, he suspected his employers were resurrectionists, and he then declared he would do no work for them again.

While all these stories were in circulation, thoughtful persons were considering the revelations in their most practical bearing. They admitted the necessity for teachers of anatomy being supplied with a sufficient number of subjects for dissection, for it was apparent that had the legitimate supply been adequate, there would have been little temptation to any one to enter upon a career of crime. Theories were started as to how the evident defect was to be remedied, letters on all aspects of the subject were sent to the newspapers, and a wordy battle was fought out. Amid all this clamour, on the 5th of January, 1829, several of the anatomical teachers in Edinburgh had an interview with the Lord Advocate; and on the 7th of the same month the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons held a meeting at which they passed resolutions expressing regret that anatomical instruction, which they conscientiously believed to be an essential part in the education of medical men, should ever have furnished a temptation to such unexampled atrocities, and calling upon the Legislature to remove the restrictions under which such instruction was then given.

This, however, was only one side of the question, and the resolutions, right and proper in themselves, only served to inflame the public mind, for they showed that bodies obtained at least in a surreptitious manner were being used. Other incidents added to the general excitement. Several boys, belonging to respectable families, disappeared suddenly, and the conclusion at once jumped at by their despairing relatives was that they had been stolen away to supply the dissecting tables of the teachers of anatomy. No other explanation seemed at all tenable, until the missing lads were discovered, some days later, in a village some miles from Edinburgh, whither they had gone to hawk broadside or pamphlet accounts of the trialof Burke and M‘Dougal. Another matter which gave additional cause for anxiety was an attempt to steal the body of a man from a house in Edinburgh. Early on the morning of Tuesday, the 20th January, some passers-by observed a curious-looking package being lowered by means of a rope from the upper window of the house. On examination, it was found to be the body of a man named M‘Donald, better known locally as “Nosey,” on account of the size of his nasal organ, who had died the day before. The thieves had broken into the house, where the corpse was lying unattended, and were in the act of removing it when the discovery was made. They managed to escape by the back of the house and were never captured.

This desultory chapter may be brought to a close by an interesting item regarding Mrs. Docherty, the last victim of the West Port murderers, to which publicity was given by theGlasgow Heraldshortly after the conclusion of the trial. “The poor woman Sally Docherty or Campbell,” it was stated, “was well known amongst the inhabitants of the Old Wynd, Glasgow, about two years ago, where she kept a lodging-house for indigent people. She was a thin-faced woman, generally wore a red duffle-cloak, and had, of course, experienced a great deal of hardships in the station of life to which she was habituated. At the period alluded to, she had a son, a shoemaker, and a young man for a husband, of the name of Campbell. The last time she appeared in the Glasgow police office was as the complainer against this fellow, who is still living, for demolishing all the crockery, and pulling down her grate from the fire-place.” It was in search of the son mentioned in this notice that Mrs. Docherty went to Edinburgh, where she met with a death the violent nature of which was not inconsistent with the sad life she had lived. But it is a remarkable fact that while the murder of this poor woman was the crime which led to the discovery of the dreadful conspiracy in which Burke and Hare were engaged, and to the execution of the former, the popular mind speedily lost hold of the fact, and oral tradition in many parts of the country—in the city of Edinburgh itself—even to this day, has it that Burke suffered the last penalty of the law on the scaffold for the murder of Daft Jamie.

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