EXECUTION of WILLIAM BURKE.taken on the spot.Published by Thomas Ireland Junr. Edinburgh.
EXECUTION of WILLIAM BURKE.
taken on the spot.
Published by Thomas Ireland Junr. Edinburgh.
While this was going on, the yells, which had been almost uninterrupted, became tremendous, accompanied with cries of “hang Hare too;” “where is Hare.” “Burkethe ——, do not waste rope upon him;” “give him no rope.” “You ——, you will see Daft Jamie in a minute.” He seemed somewhat unsteady; whether from terror or debility, we cannot say.
The Rev. Mr. Reid then advanced, and conversed with him shortly, but earnestly. It was then, we presume, that he directed him to say the creed, which he did.
His countenance continued to present a death-like paleness, but appeared composed, and he stood unflinching and motionless. When Mr. Reid retired, the executioner advanced, and offered to draw the cap over his face. He manifested some repugnance to its being done; but, with some little difficulty, this part of the fatal preparations was also completed.
When every thing was ready, and the assistants withdrawn, he uttered an ejaculation to his Maker, beseeching mercy, and immediately gave the signal, throwing the handkerchief from him with an impatient jerk, as violently as his pinioned arms would permit, and was instantly launched into eternity.
Before his removal from the jail, he had said that he would make short work on the scaffold; and, though evidently disconcerted, and his ideas scattered by the appalling shouts of the mob, he kept his word. The whole proceedingson the scaffold occupied only ten minutes, and precisely at a quarter past eight o’clock the drop fell. The fall was very slight, and certainly could not dislocate his neck. It was nearly so imperceptible, that at one instant he seemed standing, and engaged in an active operation; on the next, with almost no change visible, he was hanging helplessly suspended only by the cord that was suffocating him.
Though no sympathy could be felt for such a despicable and cold-blooded monster, it is still a fearful sight to witness death snatching his victim with such circumstance. If any feeling of pity could be aroused by this, it must have been heightened by the terrific huzza raised at the moment he was thrown off, and the populace saw their enemy in the death struggle.
——“One universal cry there rushed,Louder than the loud ocean—like a crashOf echoing thunder.”
——“One universal cry there rushed,Louder than the loud ocean—like a crashOf echoing thunder.”
——“One universal cry there rushed,Louder than the loud ocean—like a crashOf echoing thunder.”
——“One universal cry there rushed,
Louder than the loud ocean—like a crash
Of echoing thunder.”
In all the vast multitude there was not manifested one solitary expression of sympathy. “No one said, God bless him;” but each vied with another in showing their exultation by shouting, clapping of hands, and waving of hats.
This universal cry of satiated vengeance for blood ascending to heaven, rung through the city, and we are assured was distinctly heard by the astonished citizens in its most remote streets. Never perhaps was such a noise of triumph and execration heard, and we may safely say never on a similar occasion. It was followed by a more partial and savage cry of “Off with the cowl;” “let us see his face;” and many appeared desirous of glutting their revenge by gloating on the disgusting spectacle of his distorted features.
The magistrates, clergymen, and executioners immediately upon the drop falling retreated from the scaffold, and left it under the charge only of about half a dozen city-officers, who walked about to keep them from the cold, and looked as if they would willingly have followed the example of their superiors.
There was nothing which could be called struggling observable on the now apparently lifeless body. It seemed as if, slight as was the jerk given by the fall, instantaneous death had been produced, although the neck could not have been dislocated, yet the body swung motionless except from the impetus given by the fall, until about five minutes after the suspension, when a slight convulsive motion of the feet and heaving of the body indicated that vitality was not entirely extinguished. Upon observing this another cheer was raised by the crowd who were anxiously watching the body. It was repeated at intervals as the motions were renewed. This happened we think perhaps twice after the first, each time diminishing in force until the last seemed merely a slight tremulous motion of the feet, imperceptible except to those who were gazing intently upon the body. Notwithstanding that the criminal was now obviously dead, and nothing visible but his wretched carcass hanging at the end of a cord, a disgusting spectacle of the pitch of degradation that guilt and crime can reduce a human being to, the populace showed no disposition to disperse, and comparatively few left the place. They seemed to wait for the purpose of gloating their eyes with the spectacle of the last agonies of this object of their implacable dislike, but after the occurrence of what we have mentioned, there were no indications of sensation, and the very gradual swinging round appeared to be produced by the action of the wind: The head also, as usual, leaned alittle to one side, which added a more miserable character to the scene.
At a particular part of the crowd a cry of “to Surgeons’ Square,” was now raised by some individuals, and a large body detached themselves from the mass and proceeded in that direction. The signal was not imparted to any other part, and the movement confined to the quarter in which it originated. We are informed that the detachment which thus broke off, though large when it left the Lawnmarket, was gradually diminished by stragglers who dropped off in its progress, until upon reaching its destination it was not able to cope with the party of policemen who were stationed there in anticipation of such an attack. Though they removed from the thickest part of the crowd, their defalcation did not produce a sensible difference in the appearance. At this time a baker had the hardihood to attempt a passage down the street with a board on his head and a few rolls in it, and, contrary to expectation, succeeded in accomplishing it. At one time his board was nearly capsized, but an escort of fellow tradesmen quickly rallied round him, and guarded him safely past the danger. A chimney-sweeper with his ladder was not so fortunate as the baker, as his brethren probably did not muster so strong, and he had to retreat without accomplishing his purpose. With such incidents the mob were amused, while the melancholy spectacle was exhibited before them, and their laughter and glee continued unabated up to their dispersion.
At the time this was passing we observed a person dressed in a drab great coat hallooing and encouraging the mob to persevere in these manifestations of their feelings, from a window on the second floor of a house, a little to the eastward of the scaffold, on the oppositeside. This individual, who seemed anxious to render himself conspicuous by prompting fresh ebullitions of the popular sentiment, persevered indefatigably in his exertions until the body was cut down; but the vengeance of the mob appeared to have been satiated with the death of the criminal, and the shouts, though renewed at intervals, gradually became fainter and fainter.
After hanging a considerable time, some individual from below the scaffold, the under part of which was boxed in for the reception of the body when it should be cut down, gave the body a whirl round, but no motion except what was thus given was observable. From the same place was handed up to the town-officers on the platform shavings and chips taken out of the rude coffin underneath. These were held up to the populace, and some chips thrown over among them;—conduct which did not appear very decorous from the official attendants upon such a solemnity. At five minutes to nine o’clock, Bailies Crichton and Small again came up Libberton’s Wynd, still habited in their robes and with their staffs, but did not ascend the scaffold. The executioner mounted it and immediately commenced lowering the body, which was done by degrees and rather leisurely. Again the people made the welkin ring with three hearty cheers when they saw their vengeance completed. A few cries of “Let us have him to tear him in pieces” were heard, but there was no colour for what has been said in a newspaper account, that there appeared indications of a riot to effect this. There was perhaps never a tithe, or a twentieth part of the same number collected in Edinburgh who showed less disposition to disturb the public peace. So far from the bold front of the policemen deterring them from their purpose, the policemen stood all the time with their backs to the crowd, and we believe had not to interfere in a single instance. Had the purpose of the mob been evil, and had they acted simultaneously, no boldfront of the detachment of police, though it was strong, could have prevented them attaining their object: the physical force and pressure of such a mass would have overwhelmed all the officers present. But the crowd were in perfect good humour, and never was there one that thought less of rioting. Their desires were gratified—their aspirations were answered, the arch-criminal had met with his doom, and there was for the present nothing to ruffle their tempers. Accordingly after the body was lowered, the people commenced dispersing quietly, and in an orderly manner, until the streets were perfectly cleared. The body was lowered precisely at five minutes before nine o’clock, having hung exactly forty minutes. Upon its falling into the space under the scaffold, which was boxed in, a scramble took place among the operatives for relics, consisting of pieces of the rope, shavings from the coffin, &c. &c. The body was placed in a shell and almost immediately carried down on men’s shoulders to the Lock-up-house.
The populace, upon seeing this winding up of the business, quietly dispersed. All Wednesday, however, large groupes visited the scene.
Instantly after the tragedy was closed, the men who were to remove the scaffold and other erections appeared and commenced operations; such was their celerity that by half-past eleven o’clock all traces of it were removed.
We have abstained in the foregoing account of the exit of this notorious criminal, from expressing any opinion upon the very remarkable and unusual display of feeling which was manifested by the immense majority of the spectators present, but have contented ourselves simply with describing these ebullitions along with the other incidents attendant on it, conceiving that to our readers whodid not witness it, they would form part and parcel of the transactions, aye, and a more important part than either some of the actions of the culprit, or the doings of the officials engaged in it. No one who witnessed the unprecedented conduct of the crowd, could have hindered himself from being impressed with it: and assuredly we did not survey it with indifference, nor refrain from forming an opinion. Some of the journals who record such events, appear to have felt very wrathful upon the occasion, and to have lavished every term of vituperation upon those whose conduct ran counter to their fine drawn sentimentality. We confess that we cannot see any reason for indulging in such excessive sensibility. It is not customary certainly to behave so; and this departure from the etiquette of an execution is probably what has shocked them; but then we must recollect that ordinary executions are very different things from what this was, and that in them the expression of feeling and sympathy for the sufferer is genuine and heartfelt; and if those who exhibit it are entitled to any praise for honesty and sincerity in that case, they have not forfeited it in this, as there can be no doubt that the behaviour complained of was an unpremeditated and simple expression of detestation for the crime, and exultation that punishment had overtaken it.
No comparison can be drawn between a man who is executed for some petty theft, whom the frequenters of executions cannot bring themselves to consider as a very desperate felon, and a monster who is most justly hanged for one execrable murder, when there are fifteen behind as abominable. The sentiments and opinions of the mob cannot be the same in the one case, as in the other; they cannot enter into nice legal distinctions—if indeed legal distinctions would blame them; but they see one man suffer for stealing a few shillings, and they pity him, and another for murdering sixteen individuals, and they execrate him.There is nothing extraordinary in all this, though it is unusual, almost unprecedented, that an opportunity should occur to call it forth. To show any thing else than an implacable aversion to such great moral turpitude, would have been to manifest a slight perception of evil, and we suspect that those who blame the shouters, were themselves actuated by equally honourable feelings, though they would not permit them to operate in the same way.
We will concede to them, that people of very refined feelings and cultivated minds would not triumph over the last moments of the most depraved man who ever lived, and that Burke was that man, perhaps with the exception of Hare, there can be no question; but then we must recollect that those who jostled each other upon the High Street of Edinburgh on the morning of the execution, make no pretensions to such high refinement. We must also bear in mind, that many of the populace were of the same rank in life as the massacred victims, and that they naturally felt more deeply on the subject than those whose station and habits removed them from the risk of being butchered. Also, that a notion had gone abroad among these people that their bodies were mangled for behoof of a science which is to benefit more peculiarly the rich, and that those obnoxious individuals who exercise the inhuman trade of resurrectionists, are screened by them from the punishment they merit. They believed also that there was a desire to deal too leniently towards this ruthless gang, and that although one of them had been sacrificed, others of the delinquents had been snatched from a deserved fate, because their blood was little accounted of. It had been even imagined that a disposition was cherished of saving the life of Burke, and that he was unwillingly consigned to his fate; now all this is very erroneous, and some of it very absurd, but still these opinions were conscientiously held by numbers, and would be asoperative in dictating an expression of their feelings, as more rational ideas could have been.
It is not wonderful, then, that when they witnessed the preparations for the ceremony, they should indulge in expressions of satisfaction; and that when the culprit himself was exhibited before them, an uncontrollable and simultaneous shout of triumphant exultation should burst forth, and that execration for his enormous guilt should have led the vast multitude, without concert or premeditation, to repeat again and again their acclamations.
The law in such cases justly and wisely, but relentlessly, consigns the perpetrators to death, and the public voice also relentlessly adds to it obloquy and reproach. Nay more, the Lord Justice Clerk, before passing sentence, mentioned that he was prevented only by a sense “that the public eye would be offended by so dismal a spectacle,” from ordering also, “that to satisfy the violated laws of his country and the voice of public indignation, his body should be exhibited in chains, to bleach in the winds, in order to deter others from the commission of similar offences.” His Lordship, so far from having any aversion to posthumous vengeance, adds, “I trust, that if it is ever customary to preserve skeletons, yours will be preserved, in order that posterity may keep in remembrance your atrocious crimes.” And he could scarcely have used other terms in animadverting upon what he justly characterized in the following words: “A crime more atrocious, a more cold-blooded, deliberate, and systematic preparation for murder, and the motive so paltry, was really unexampled in the annals of this country.” His Lordship’s colleagues also expressed themselves in similar terms, and still the people are blamed for acting in unison with their declared sentiments.
Even the hangman seemed to share in the general feeling. His instructions to the porter who assisted him were conveyed in the following petty sentence, “Hold him till I get the rope adjusted, and then let the —— kick.” When fastening the rope about his neck, he did give it an unmerciful tug, so as nearly to strangle him.
It is admitted by those who complain of the violation of decency and good taste, that he was a cold-hearted miscreant, towards whom a spark of sympathy could not be extended, and his atrocities are denounced in eloquent and indignant terms, and yet it appears to have been anticipated that the public, on the only occasion they had of publicly manifesting their sentiments, should have met him with a semblance of pity and forgiveness. They could not have done so without doing violence to every feeling that agitated them, and it would have been an unaccountable piece of hypocrisy to have attempted it. Public detestation unequivocally expressed, is always an important, and sometimes the most important auxiliary of punishment, and the scorn and contumely that is heaped upon a guilty head may be the best ally of the repressors of immorality, and if there was in that assemblage one individual whose sordid soul, could contemplate the commission of enormities which might outrage humanity, and bring on him similar manifestations of disgust, it must have acted as a solemn warning when he made the terrible discovery, that “when it goeth well with the righteous the city rejoiceth, and when the wicked perish there is shouting.”
Our sentiments concerning the character of the unhappy wretch, and his crimes, has been explicitly stated in the foregoing part of this narrative, but it may not be unacceptable to our readers that a brief view of the opinions of others should be furnished. We subjoin, therefore, thefollowing observations, the merit of which may well justify their insertion.
The atrocious murderer, Burke, whose hands were more deeply dyed in innocent blood than those of any other homicide recorded in the calendar of crimes, has undergone the sentence of the law; and from the narrative of the concomitants of the tragedy, it will be seen that the circumstances attending his exit were as extraordinary as his guilt was transcendant and unprecedented. Essentially and in his real character an ignoble, base, mean-spirited wretch, this wholesale assassin, by the mere extinction or obliteration of every moral principle and feeling of his nature, and by a consequent abandonment of the faculties bestowed upon him to the commission of crime, has succeeded in obtaining “a bad pre-eminence,” even among those who had prostituted and degraded far higher endowments to the ways of iniquity; and a name which ought never to have been heard of beyond the precincts of the lowest and meanest compartment of society, is now damned to immortal infamy, and stands out in strong relief from the long and black catalogue of those who have most signalised themselves by their daring violation of the laws both of God and of man. In fact, it was reserved for this incredible monster and his associate fiends to reduce murder to a system, and to establish a regular traffic in the bodies of their victims. Ordinary homicides slay from passion or revenge; the murders they commit are the product of an ungovernable and overmastering impulse, which hurls reason from her seat, and, in the wild conflict of guilty passion, precipitates them into the commission of acts which are no sooner done than they would perhaps give the universe were they undone. But Burke and his crew possess the horrid and anomalous distinction of having, withoutthe palliation of passion, or of any other motive which a just view of human infirmity can admit in extenuation, and from a base and sordid love of gain, and of acquiring the means of rioting in profligacy and iniquity of every sort, established a traffic in blood upon principles of cool calculation, and an utter recklessness of either God or man, which would have done no discredit to Mammon himself. Hence it is, that Burke is perhaps the only criminal who has died, not only without exciting an emotion of pity in a human bosom, but amidst the curses, both loud and deep, of the assembled thousands who witnessed the ignominious termination of his guilty career. The wild shouts of exultation which saluted him upon his appearance on the scaffold, and which rung in his ears with still fiercer acclamations when the world was closing on him for ever, must have appalled even the heart of ice within his worthless bosom, and sounded as the knell of a judgment to come, where the spirits of the slain would rise up before him to demand a just retribution. Yet at that awful moment, when his deeds of blood must have arisen before him, and when the unknown future must have presented itself to his mind as the past was about to close, the wretch seemed almost calm, and looked defiance, nay, scorn at those who, yielding to their overpowering sense of his crimes, blasted his last moments with their shouts of wild triumph and exultation.
It will be long ere such a scene as this occur again, unless, indeed, as is the devout wish of every one, a similar spectacle be produced by the execution of Hare. There never, perhaps, was such a signal and appalling expression of a whole populace’s indignation as on this occasion. The nature of the feeling by which they were actuated, indeed, could only be estimated by looking at the species of crime,at once so novel and so aggravated, of which the wretch has been convicted. History, even in its blackest record, theNewgate Calendar, has disclosed nothing similar or equal in atrocity to the late transactions at the West Port, if we except one or two straggling and doubtful cases, which the progress of inquiry, stimulated by the recent events, has since elicited. The commission of such horrors, and the state of mind and feeling which could bend to their commission, formed, as it were, a new era in the history of human nature and of human crime. A proportionate impression was communicated to the multitude, who literally stood for a season “in pitiless horror fixed.” Found guilty of a tissue of enormities, at the very least, of which one would require to be something more or less than human to refrain from shuddering, the execution of this monster was anticipated by thousands without any of those sentiments of commiseration which usually accompany such spectacles. After all was granted that the advocates of science could demand, still the barespecies facti, and no sophistry could pervert or soften that, was narrowed and nailed down to this, that Burke had done a deed which stands highest in the code of crime, by the laws both of God and man,—that he had done so, not from any of these various motives or temptations which the indulgence of mankind is often apt to admit as palliatives to guilt, but from the basest of all considerations, the procurement of a paltry pittance,—and that he had contracted this heavy villany, not once or twice, or from sudden or casual impulses, but coolly and deliberately had gone about exercising the work of murder as a trade—dealing with human creatures as a butcher deals with cattle—shedding their blood and selling their flesh for bread.
It is impossible, without adverting to all these facts, to form any conception of the popular fury on this occasion. It might be possible to imagine a case in which a criminal, although exhibiting the very highest depravity, might yet be not improperly looked upon with the eye rather of pity than of condemnation,—as one whom nature had given instincts and passions such as she gives alike to man and brute, but for whom subsequent events had done worse than nothing. In fact, such is the strong tendency of mankind to revolt from the idea of such unnatural enormities being committed in aught of human shape, that when the system of traffic which had been practised by Burke and his associates first flashed in a full disclosure on men’s understandings, not a few were inclined to search, in some extenuating circumstances of this kind, for a cause of palliation of this unparalleled felon’s iniquity. It was at least not an impossible supposition, that the wretched man might have been labouring under a total insensibility of moral and even of intellectual feeling, arising from an entire want of education—from a mind dull and inert in its perceptions originally, and not only in after life allowed to lie waste, but rendered still more callous and impassive every day by a constant contact with scenes of infamy. Could we indeed imagine that Burke had been left to have his character formed under an accumulation of influences fatal and awful to contemplate as these are—that his life had been always spent in profligate habits and profligate haunts—that he had been born with a ferocious and indocile nature, and bred in situations which barred all progressive movements to good—that, in short, he had never had ideas poured into his intellect, or any humane feelings generated in his bosom—then perhaps it might furnish matter of curious investigation to the metaphysicians, whether he was not, after all, a case which called for deep sympathy. Butenough has transpired of the history of this extraordinary man, to show that he at least was placed in no such deplorable predicament. His education and rank in life, instead of having been by any means of the lowest order, were such as, in the judgment of the world, and on the authority of experience, are held of necessity to humanize and inform the mind, and to communicate perfectly just conceptions of moral distinctions. In addition to this, many people hold it to have been made out that Burke was a man of strong mind, of an understanding much superior to his condition. When, therefore, he stood convicted before his country as one who, for his livelihood, had been a wholesale dealer in human slaughter, he stood without the benefit of one single mitigating circumstance, to weaken the profound sense of horror and indignation which pervaded all hearts. He had known the full measure and enormity of the guilt which he was perpetrating, and the whole practical amount of human suffering which he was inflicting day by day on bereaved families and friends; and, appearing in this light, every one felt that it was idle to talk of mercy, and the most charitable were disposed to say, Let the law take its course.
During the whole of Wednesday the College was beset by numbers anxious to catch a glimpse of the body as it was conveyed to Dr. Monro’s Anatomical Theatre. It was resolved, however, that the removal should not take place upon that day, but should be effected in the subsequent night, when there was no probability of a crowd collecting. Still, however, the people continued to stand and gaze at the building in which they believed him to be, as if they expected the inanimate body to appear to them.
Early on Thursday morning the corpse was removed from the Lock-up-house to the College, and placed in one of Dr. Monro’s rooms. Several scientific gentlemen attended at an early hour to examine the appearances before the promiscuous entry of the students should prevent their undisturbed examination; among others we noticed Mr. Liston, Mr. George Combe, and his philosophical opponent Sir William Hamilton; Mr. Joseph the eminent sculptor, was also present, and took a bust of the criminal. Sketches were likewise taken by more than one young gentleman.
The body was that of a man you might call stout or sturdy. The neck was one of those that are usually denominated a bull-neck. The chest and the upper part of the arms were extremely muscular. The lower parts were so also, but not in the same proportion. The lower part of his body was thin, but his thighs were extremely large, the leg and foot small. Altogether he exhibited any thing but the appearance of an emaciated body, and every one was astonished to find it display such plumpness and stoutness, differing very materially from the aspect he had upon the scaffold,—but then, as we have already noticed, the size of the clothes making them hang loosely upon him, gave a look of feebleness and narrowness to the chest which it did not possess.
The countenance was not so much altered after death as is usually the case, or as was generally expected. It presented the appearance of great placidity, without the slightest thing which could indicate that he had suffered a violent death, excepting the discoloration of the neck where the cord had surrounded it and made a livid mark; nor was there that fulness of the features generally attendant on those who have suffered a similar death, owing,perhaps to his head having been supported in a perpendicular position after being cut down. The countenance betokened the same meanness and low wickedness which it exhibited at the trial.
In the course of the forenoon the body was inspected by a number of individuals, though the public were not admitted generally.
Professor Monro, in pursuance of the sentence of the Court, gave a public dissection of the body at one o’clock to a numerous audience; indeed the class-room was quite crowded. The learned lecturer was received with every mark of respect, accompanied by the usual demonstrations of welcome. We observed among the audience many highly respectable professional gentlemen anxiously waiting to hear Dr. Monro upon the particular subject of the day’s lecture, as it was known that it was to be the brain, a portion of the anatomy of the human body on which the professor has bestowed particular attention, and on which, in consequence, his lectures are particularly valued. He has also some new views regarding the brain, the correctness of which we are assured the result of the lecture sufficiently proved. Previously to commencing, the professor did every thing in his power to satisfy the curiosity of those who wished to have a view of the features, by exposing him in the most favourable position. In the dissection he was aided by his able assistant, Mr. M‘Kenzie. It was commenced by first taking off the scalp to show the muscles of the upper part of the head; these being removed, the skull was sawn through, and the brain with its covering exposed. The quantity of blood that gushed out was enormous, and by the time the lecture was finished, which was not till three o’clock, the area of the class-room hadthe appearance of a butcher’s slaughter-house, from its flowing down and being trodden upon.
The anxiety to obtain a sight of the vile carcass of the murderer was exceedingly great, particularly after the dismissal of Dr. Monro’s class; and the Doctor, in the most obliging manner, accommodated every one to the utmost extent the apartments would admit of. About half past two o’clock, however, a body of young men, consisting chiefly of students, assembled in the area, and becoming clamorous for admissionen masse, which of course was quite impracticable, it was found necessary to send for a body of Police to preserve order. But this proceeding had quite an opposite effect from that intended. Indignant at the opposition they met with, conceiving themselves to have a preferable title to admission, and exasperated at the display of force in the interior of the University, where they imagined no such interference was justifiable, the young men made several attempts, in which they had nearly succeeded, to overpower the Police, and broke a good deal of glass in the windows on either side of the entrance to the Anatomical Theatre. The Police were in fact compelled to use their batons, and several hard blows were exchanged on both sides. The Lord Provost was present for some time, but was glad to retire with whole bones, amidst the hootings of the obstreperous youth, who lavished opprobrious epithets on the Magistrates, particularly on Bailie Small, the College Bailie, who displayed considerable activity, and harangued the assemblage from time to time with apparently very little effect. Attempts were made to convey some prisoners the Police had made across the square, but they were speedily rescued on attaining the open space. Those captured afterwards were lodged in one of Dr. Monro’s rooms, but this scarcelyafforded more secure custody. It was also attempted to clear the yard with but indifferent success; indeed the Police were overmatched, and could only stand their ground by avoiding the open area. The disturbance lasted from half-past two till nearly four o’clock, when an end was at once put to it by the good sense of Professor Christison, who announced to the young men that he had arranged for their admission in parties of about fifty at a time, giving his own personal guarantee for their good conduct. This was received with loud cheers, and immediately the riotous disposition they had previously manifested disappeared. We cannot conceive why this expedient was not thought of earlier; for if it had, there would have been no disturbance of any kind. Several of the more violent of the youths were taken into custody by the Police, but were very properly liberated on their parole by the Magistrates. The whole fracas, indeed, was a mere ebullition of boyish impatience, rendered more unruly by their extreme curiosity to obtain a sight of the body of the murderer. Several of the policemen were severely hurt; buten revanche, we believe not a few of the young men have still reason to remember the weight of their batons, and some severe contusions were received. South Bridge Street, in front of the College, was kept in a continued uproar, and almost blocked up by the populace who were denied access to the interior, and had the approaches not been guarded fresh accessions of rioters might have given it a more serious aspect. In fact, the body of Police on duty were too weak for the rioters, small parties being sent from the office as they came in from other quarters; a circumstance which rendered it necessary for them to use harsher means than they would otherwise have employed. On Friday, however, matters were better arranged. An order was given to admit the public generally to view thebody of Burke, and of course many thousands availed themselves of the opportunity thus afforded them. Indeed so long as daylight lasted, an unceasing stream of persons continued to flow through the College Square, who, as they arrived, were admitted by one stair to the Anatomical Theatre, passed the table on which lay the body of the murderer, and made their exit by another stair. By these means no inconvenience was felt except what was occasioned by the impatience of the crowd to get forward to the Theatre.
On that day we again paid the College a visit, and formed part of the immense multitude who pressed on anxious to see the remains of the wretch. Having made our way to the stairs leading to the class-room, we moved up without much exertion of our own being required. The progression alone of the dense body which kept continually advancing, almost supplying the place of our usual locomotive powers. After a sufficiency of squeezing, we found ourselves in the room, where we tarried for awhile, that we might have sufficient time to make more minute observations than those who were hurriedly carried past in the continuous stream that moved along. The body was lying on the black marble table, which is usually in the class-room, on one side of the area, so as to allow free ingress and egress.
To give a better idea of what the countenance had been, the skull cap which had been sawn off the preceding day was replaced, and the outer skin brought over it, so as to retain it in the proper situation. The face, however, was much altered. We understand that an immense quantity of blood had flowed from the body during the night, producing doubtless the paleness which was now its principalcharacteristic. The features had entirely lost that decidedness and sharpness they yesterday possessed. The nose was thickened, as the lips likewise were, producing that bloated appearance usually seen in the faces of those who have died from strangulation. It altogether no longer presented the countenance of Burke.
It was really amusing to observe the different emotions displayed in those approaching and passing the body. They presented as great a variety of faces, both in old and young, as the most zealous physiognomist could have wished for in his studies. Some hesitated at the entrance, half inclined to retrace their steps, as if appalled at their own audacity in venturing so nearly into the presence of a corpse. The crowd behind, however, and their own curiosity urged them on, and they were almost borne past with uncovered head and pallid lip. Others walked boldly forward, viewing the body with a malicious smile, which spoke plainly their disgust at the crimes of the individual, and that this aversion overcame every sentiment of horror they might have felt at another time in looking on a similar spectacle.
The immense concourse of people whose curiosity induced them to visit this sad and humiliating spectacle of fallen and degraded man may be judged of, when it is mentioned, that by actual enumeration it was found that upwards of sixty per minute passed the corpse. This continued from ten o’clock until darkening, and when we left at nearly four o’clock the crowd was increasing, we cannot compute the number at less than twenty-five thousand persons, and counting the other days on which many saw him, though the admissions were not so indiscriminate, the amount cannot be reckoned under thirty thousand souls.A greater number of males probably than was present at the execution, and a far greater concourse perhaps than ever paid homage to the remains of any great man lying in state.
We understand, though we did not witness it, that some women whose curiosity presented a stronger impulsive motive than could in them be counteracted by the characteristic grace of a female,—modesty, found their way with the mob into the room where the naked body was exposed. It is not likely, however, that their curiosity will, in such a case, again get the better of their discretion, as the males, who reserve to themselves the exclusive right of witnessing such like spectacles, bestowed such tokens of their indignation upon them as will probably deter them from again visiting an exhibition of the sort; seven in all is said to be the number of females in Edinburgh so void of decency; but in justice even to them we may presume that they did not anticipate such an exposure. Several more however cast a longing look into the University, and even ascended the steps, but had the prudence again to retire.
Next day, Saturday, all ingress was denied, and again the front of the College presented a scene of confusion sufficiently annoying to those in the neighbourhood, and to passers by. Long after they had ascertained that no admission was allowed, the people continued gazing at the outer walls, and when their curiosity was abundantly gratified by this, or their patience exhausted, fresh arrivals of unwearied spectators arrived.
The phrenologists have, as a matter of course, seized with avidity this opportunity of, as they imagine, through it exhibiting the advantage of their favourite science, and thereby advancing it in public estimation. We will, outof the descriptions of the number given forth, confine ourselves to the two following.
For the following measurement of the head of Burke, with the development deduced from it, we are indebted to an ingenious friend who has taken some interest in the science of Phrenology, without, however, becoming a convert to its doctrines. The measurement was taken with the greatest care, in the presence and with the assistance of an able Phrenologist: so that its accuracy may, we believe, be confidently relied upon:—
Amativeness, very large. Philo-progenitiveness, full. Concentrativeness, deficient. Adhesiveness, full. Combativeness, large. Destructiveness, very large. Constructiveness, moderate. Acquisitiveness, large. Secretiveness, large. Self-esteem, rather large. Love of approbation, rather large. Cautiousness, rather large. Benevolence, large. Veneration, large. Hope, small. Ideality, small. Conscientiousness, rather large. Firmness, large. Individuality, upper, moderate. Do. lower, full. Form, full. Size, do. Weight, do. Colour, do. Locality, do. Order, do. Time, deficient. Number, full. Tune, moderate. Language, full. Comparison, full. Casualty, rather large. Wit, deficient. Imitation, full.
The above report, it may be necessary to observe, was taken a few hours after the execution. In consequence of the body having been thrown on its back, the integuments not only at the back of the head and neck, but at the posterior lateral parts of the head were at the time extremely congested; for in all cases of death by hanging, the blood remaining uncoagulated, invariably gravitates to those parts which are in the most depending position. Hence, there was a distension in this case over many of the most important organs which gave, for exampleAmativeness,Combativeness,Destructiveness, &c.an appearance of size which never existed during life, and, on the other hand, made many of the moral and intellectual organs seem in contrast relatively less than they would otherwise have appeared. In this state, a cast of the head was taken by Mr. Joseph; but although for Phrenological purposes it may do very well, yet no measurement either from the headitself in that condition, or a cast taken from it, can afford us any fair criterion of the development of the brain itself. We know that this objection applies to the busts of all the murderers which adorn the chief pillars of the Phrenological system, and in no case is it more obvious than in the present.
Our able Professor, Dr. Monro, gave a demonstration of the brain to a crowded audience on Thursday morning, and we have, from the best authority, been given to understand, that it presented nothing unusual in its appearance. We have heard it asserted, that the lateral lobes were enormously developed, but having made inquiry on this subject, we do not find they were more developed than is usual. As no measurement of the brain itself was taken, all reports on this subject must be unsatisfactory; nor could the evidence of an eye-witness in such a matter prove sufficient to be admitted as proof either in favour of or against Phrenology.
The question which naturally arises is, whether the above developments correspond with the character of Burke? It is not our intention to enter into any controversy on this subject; yet we cannot help remarking, that it may be interpreted, like all developments of a similar kind, either favourably or unfavourably for Phrenology, as the ingenuity or prejudices of any individual may influence him. We have the moral organs more developed certainly than they ought to have been; but to this it is replied, that Burke, under the benign influence of these better faculties, lived upwards of thirty years, without committing any of those tremendous atrocities which have so paralysed the public mind. He is neither so deficient in Benevolence nor Conscientiousness as he ought to have been, phrenologicallyspeaking, and these organs, which modified and gave respectability to his character for as many as thirty years, all of a sudden cease to exercise any influence, and Acquisitiveness and Destructiveness, arising like two archfiends on both sides, leave the state of inactivity in which they had reposed for so long a period, and gain a most unaccountable control over the physical powers under which they had reposed for so many years succumbed. But, is the size of the organ of Destructiveness in Burke larger than it is found in the generality of heads?—and are his organs of Benevolence and Conscientiousness less developed than usual?—We hope to have it in our power, at an early period, to adduce sufficient evidence to determine these questions; and in the mean time, leave our readers, who have the inclination and leisure, to amuse themselves, like the astrologers of old, with the above phrenological horoscope of this atrocious criminal.
It is an old saying that Doctors differ; nor has our recent experience tended, in any degree, to abate our confidence in this maxim. As it is desirable, however, to show both sides of a question at once, we insert the following “Observations on the Head of William Burke,” from the pen of a distinguished Phrenologist:—
Public attention has been so strongly attracted by the atrocious crimes of Burke, that the other incidents of his life, and his general character as a man, are liable to be altogether overlooked. In viewing his character, however, with a philosophic eye, the whole mental qualities manifested by him in the different situations in which he was placed, must be taken into account.
Burke was born in the parish of Orrey, county of Tyrone, in Ireland, in the spring of 1792. When at school, he was distinguished as an apt scholar—a cleanly, active, good-looking boy; and though his parents were strict Catholics, he was taken into the service of a Presbyterian clergyman, in whose house he resided for a considerable time. He was recommended by the minister to a gentleman in Straban, in whose employment he remained for several years.
He subsequently tried the trade of a baker, at which he continued only for five months. He thereafter became a linen-weaver, but soon got disgusted with the close application that was essential to earn a livelihood at that poorly-paid, irksome employment, and he enlisted in the Donegal militia. He was selected by an officer as his servant, and we are told that he demeaned himself with fidelity and propriety. While in the army, he married a woman in Ballinha, in the county of Mayo, and after seven years’ service, the regiment was disbanded, and he went home to his wife. He shortly afterwards obtained the situation of groom and body-servant to a gentleman in that vicinity, with whom he remained three years.
He subsequently came to work at the Union Canal in Scotland, and there formed an acquaintance with the woman M‘Dougal, who became remarkably fond of him, deserted her paternal roof for his society, and attached herself to him, partaking of his various fortunes during the last ten years of his life. It is mentioned that Burke treated her with kindness, and acknowledged her as his wife; and that she was passionately fond of him in return.
Being reduced to much wretchedness and poverty,Burke and M‘Dougal lodged for a few nights in Hare’s house, and during his stay, a fellow-lodger died, whose body was sold by Hare and Burke for dissection. At this point, his career of villany commenced. The price of the body being expended, Burke decoyed a woman into Hare’s den and murdered her, and sold her body. He and Hare repeated similar tragedies twelve or thirteen times during the course of a year, till at last they were detected.
Nothing can exceed the intense selfishness, cold-blooded cruelty, and calculating villany of these transactions; and if the organs of Selfishness and Destructiveness be not found in Burke, it would be as anomalous as if no organs were found for the better qualities which he had previously displayed.
Phrenology is the only science of mind which contains elements and principles capable of accounting for such a character as that before us; and it does so in a striking manner. We have seen a measurement and development of the head of Burke, taken by an experienced Phrenologist from the living head; also a very accurate cast of the head with the hair shaven, taken by Mr. Joseph after the execution; and we have conversed with a medical gentleman who saw the brain dissected. The head was rather above than below the middle size. The middle lobe of the brain, in which are situated the organs of Destructiveness, Secretiveness and Acqusitiveness, was very large; at Destructiveness, in particular, the skull presented a distinct swell, and the bone was remarkably thin. The cerebellum, or organ of Amativeness, was large, and Burke stated that, in some respects, his ruin was to be attributed to the abuses of this propensity, because it had led him into habits which terminated in his greatest crimes. The organsof Self-esteem and Firmness were also largely developed. It is mentioned in all the Phrenological works, that Self-Esteem and Acqusitiveness are the grand elements of Selfishness. The anterior lobe, or that in which the intellect is placed, although small in proportion to the middle lobe, was still fairly developed, especially in the lower region, which is connected with the perceptive faculties. In accordance with this fact, Burke displayed acuteness and readiness of understanding. He could read and write with facility, and his conversation was pertinent and ready. The upper part of the forehead, connected with the reflecting organs, was deficient. The organ of Ideality, which gives refinement and elevation, was exceedingly small; that of Wonder, which prompts to admiration, is also deficient; and the organ of Wit is small.
Here we find the organs, which, when abused, lead to selfishness, cruelty, cunning, and determination, all large; but we have still to account for the faculties which enabled him to act a better part in life. Accordingly, Combativeness is considerably inferior to Destructiveness in size, and Cautiousness is large. These, acting in combination with great Firmness and Secretiveness, would give him command of temper; and, accordingly, it is mentioned that he was by no means of a quarrelsome disposition, but when once roused into a passion, he became altogether ungovernable; deaf to reason and utterly reckless, he raged like a fury, and to tame him was no easy task; that is to say, when his large Destructiveness was excited to such an extent that it broke through the restraints of his other faculties, his passion was elevated into perfect madness. Farther, looking at the coronal surface of the brain—the seat of the moral sentiments—we find it narrow in the anterior portion, but tolerably well elevated; that is tosay, the organ of Benevolence, although not at all equal in size to the organs of the animal propensities before mentioned, is fairly developed. Veneration and Hope are also full; while Conscientiousness is, in Phrenological language, “rather full,” or, in common speech, not remarkably deficient. Love of Approbation also is full. In these faculties, we find the elements of the morality which he manifested in the early part of his life; and also an explanation of the fact, remarked by all who saw him, that he possessed a mildness of aspect and suavity of manner, which seemed in inexplicable contradiction with his cold-blooded ferocity. If there had been no kindness at all in Burke’s nature, this expression would have been an effect without a cause.
The organ of Imitation is well developed; and it is mentioned in the Phrenological works that Secretiveness (which in him is likewise large,) in combination with Imitation, produces the power ofacting, or simulation. It is curious to observe that Burke possessed this talent to a considerable extent. He stated that he was fond of the theatre, and occasionally represented again the acting which he had seen.Healso, and not Hare, was thedecoyer, who, by pretended kindness, fawning, and flattery, or byactingthesemblanceof a friend, inveigled the victims into the den. This quality enabled him also toact a partin his interviews with the various individuals who visited him in jail. He showed considerable tact in adapting himself to the person who addressed him; and from the same cause it was sometimes difficult to discover when he was serious and when only feigning. His great Self-Esteem, Firmness, Cautiousness, and Secretiveness, produced that self-command and unshaken composure which never forsook him during his trial and execution.
One of the most striking tests of the degree in which the moral sentiments are possessed by a criminal, is the impression which his crimes make upon his own conscience when the deeds have been committed. In John Bellingham, who murdered Mr. Percival, the organ of Destructiveness is very large, while that of Benevolence is exceedingly deficient; and Bellingham could never be brought to perceive the cruelty and atrocity of the murder. Burke, in whom Benevolence is better developed, stated, that “for a long time after he had murdered his first victim, he found it utterly impossible to banish for a single hour the recollection of the fatal struggle—the screams of distress and despair—the agonizing groans—and all the realities of the dreadful deed. At night, the bloody tragedy, accompanied by frightful visions of supernatural beings, tormented him in his dreams. For a long time he shuddered at the thought of being alone in the dark, and during the night he kept a light constantly burning by his bed-side.” Even to the last, he could not entirely overcome the repugnance of his moral nature to murder, but mentioned that he found it necessary to deaden his sensibilities with whisky, leaving only so great a glimmering of sense as to be conscious of what he was doing. He positively asserted that he could not have committed murder when perfectly sober.
Burke was considerably muscular, and in the cast with the hair shaven, taken after death, the measurement of destructiveness is two-eighths of an inch larger than the measurement taken during life, which must be abated in the estimate of the organ.
We confess that we do not possess enough of science toenable us either to vindicate or refute the reasoning contained in the above developments. It is understood that a gentleman who has already distinguished himself as an opponent of Phrenology, is to appear again as an impugner of the doctrine given forth in the above description, and questionless he will be replied to by the amateurs of the science. One thing must be apparent in the above account, that while Phrenology is pompously announced as “the only science of mind which contains elements and principles capable of accounting for such a character as that before us,” the utmost that is attempted is to give a Phrenological description of the head, and to explain some traits of the character of Burke, and to endeavour to reconcile some discrepancies in the development, which seem not only inconsistent with each other, but which, taken in connection with his character and actions, would appear to any one but a Phrenologist to be positive contradictions.
It does not appear in this instance at least, that Phrenology possesses any peculiar aptitude in accounting for such a character; as the knowledge that a man may commit atrocious crimes and bear a different semblance to the world; that he may be actuated by a powerful motive at one time which gives place to another at a different season, and that again yielding to a third, is a fact that was sufficiently known before the science was promulgated, and would have been as intelligible as Phrenology has made it though we had never heard of the science, and merely telling us that such and such protuberances on the skull denote such and such faculties, does not at all account for the character. Many ignorant people also who cannot “view his character with a philosophic eye,” might inform us, that frequently a man does not get desperately wicked all at once, and that there is nothing very uncommon in a person behavingtolerably well for a length of time, and afterwards abandoning himself to the most profligate courses, neither is it unusual with an ignorant man, when once roused into a passion, to become “altogether ungovernable.” We have seen such a thing occur where “large destructiveness” was never exhibited nor suspected.
The learned Phrenologist then goes on to reconcile what has usually been accounted incompatible qualities, his “full Benevolence and large Destructiveness.” It is rather too much to assume that the existence of the affection benevolence is sufficiently proved, even for phrenological purposes, by quoting the story that Burke himself told of his horror after committing the first murder. Surely, though this tale was implicitly credited, the mere fact of a murderer’s slumbers being haunted with the image of his victim for a brief space, cannot prove the existence of benevolence; but we shrewdly surmise that the whole is a fiction of Burke’s, and that he narrated it at a time when the well developed organ of Imitation, combined with his large Secretiveness, was excited to such a degree as to produceactingor simulation, and that it furnishes an illustration of “the tact he showed in adapting himself to the person who addressed him.” We happen to know that he spoke quite freely about this as well as his other murders; that he went about it in the most cool and heartless manner; that the two monsters not only enticed the poor old woman into the house, and allured her with a show of kindness, but that they actually, in this their first essay, when they were just about to perpetrate it, jested upon the subject. Hare asking Burke “to gobenand see how his mother-in-law was this morning,” surely then was the time for benevolence to exhibit itself, but we presume that his “large Destructiveness was excited to such an extent, that it broke through the restraints of his other faculties,”and forced him to suffocate a helpless and infirm female, without even the miserable palliation of having previously intoxicated himself for the purpose, and on the next opportunity they could discover to perform the same bloody tragedy, without being ever troubled with compunction or remorse, until his organ of Imitation, in combination with Secretiveness, produced the power ofacting, or simulation, in the condemned cell in the Calton-hill Jail.
We suppose that thisacting or simulation, of which so much is made by the eminent Phrenologist, means neither more nor less than that he was an accomplished liar, and that faculty seems to have been in full operation when he averred, “that he could never entirely overcome the repugnance of his moral nature to murder, but that he found it necessary to deaden his sensibilities with whisky, leaving only so great a glimmering of sense as to be conscious of what he was doing.” “His moral nature” must have been of a very accommodating description, if it could without repugnance allow him to prowl about continually literally seeking whom he might devour, and “by pretended kindness, fawning and flattery, or by acting the semblance of a friend, to inveigle the victims into the den,” and when there, to entertain them with a show of kindness and hospitality, and then prompt him “to deaden his sensibilities with whisky” before it could permit him to complete the scene. But perhaps it was his benevolence that induced him to behave in this kind manner until the whisky should excite his destructiveness at the moment that the sacrifice was prepared.
But the truth is that there was neither “ungovernable fury” nor intoxication to excuse or account for his murders;they were all committed in cold blood, and without one palliating circumstance; and although he might have been drunk when some of them were concluded, he was generally sober during the preparatory process of kidnapping, and instigating them to drink.
He was continually drunk, because from his seldom working he had leisure for drinking, and an abundant supply of money, and with these he would have indulged in the same vice although there had been no reason for “deadening his sensibilities.”
The smallness of the organ of Wit is in direct opposition to the notoriety for humour and drollery he had acquired among his acquaintance.
While we allow that Burke was not such a reprobate all his life, as he was towards the close of it, we question whether he ever possessed much of “the elements of morality,” even in his youth. An account has been adopted which gives some colour to the opinion that his morality was purer than the actual fact would warrant us to allow. We have already stated in a former number, that he served only one gentleman before entering the militia. This is on his own authority, and we believe also, from the same source, he was never either a baker or a weaver, so far from being three years a groom after his discharge from the Donegal militia, he did not remain one year in Ireland, which the dates will abundantly testify. He first proved unfaithful to his wife, and as we have seen, afterwards deserted her and his children, on discovering that his father-in-law properly appreciated the selfishness and worthlessness of his character, and refused to trust him too far. His living in adultery with the womanM‘Dougal, does not display great attainments in morality, as in like manner, his unfaithfulness even to her, and frequent brutal usage of her, cannot exhibit his benevolence in a very favourable light. It is altogether too much to elevate this unnatural and anomalous monster into a being possessing some of the best and noblest attributes of humanity, merely that the dogmas of a favourite pursuit should be supported. We opine, that the lauders of the immaculate science must content themselves with the fame it has acquired from the developments of former murderers, or alter the whole systems of metaphysics heretofore received, should they not be able to discover a new designation for the bumps they may find on a murderer’s cranium.
After the trial and conviction of Burke, some very interesting proceedings were instituted by the mother and sister of James Wilson or Daft Jamie, the object of which was to bring him to trial for his participation in the murder of their relative. These proceedings have issued in the liberation of Hare after an argument and determination in the High Court of Justiciary. This question has been regarded by some persons as really of no material importance, because whatever might have been the issue of it, means would have been adopted by the public authorities for obtaining a pardon for Hare if he had been found guilty under the contemplated prosecution. This circumstance does not, in our apprehension, lessen the importance of the question, inasmuch as the conviction and punishment of any single criminal, however atrocious, is a matter of trivial moment when compared with the greatand constitutional principles of law which constitute the code of our criminal jurisprudence. Viewing these proceedings therefore in this light, there has rarely, if ever, been a question raised in our Courts of Law, involving principles of more paramount interest, as it relates, on the one hand, to the rights and powers of the Public Prosecutor, which are, in other words, the rights and powers of the public; and on the other hand, the rights and privileges of individuals aggrieved by the perpetration of crimes, which affect their property and their feelings. It became a matter of serious concernment to have it clearly and well decided by the highest legal authorities, what are the extent and limits of the Lord Advocate’s powers as Public Prosecutor, to enter into compacts with associates in crime, whereby he may afford them an immunity from punishment for participation in crimes, on condition of their affording such evidence as may be requisite for the discovery and punishment of offences, in cases, which from their very nature, can neither be traced out nor established to conviction of the delinquents, without such information and evidence; and how far such compacts may be carried, without infringing the privileges of private parties, who are by law entitled to sue in their own name, and for their own interests, for redress of their individual wrongs? This is the question which has been raised in the present instance, and which has now been solemnly decided by the Supreme Criminal Court of this country.