SENTENCE.
The Lord Justice Clerk and Lords Commissioners of Justiciary, in respect of the verdict before recorded, decern and adjudge the said William Burke, pannel, to be carried from the bar back to the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, therein to be detained, and to be fed on bread and water only, in terms of an act of Parliament passed in the 25th year of the reign of His Majesty King George the Second, entitled “an Act for preventing the horrid crime of murder,” until Wednesday the twenty-eighth day of January next to come, and upon that day to be taken furth of the said tolbooth to the common place of execution in the Lawnmarket of Edinburgh, and then and there, between the hours of eight and ten o’clock before noon of the said day, to be hanged by the neck by the hands of the common executioner upon a gibbet until he be dead, and his body thereafter to be delivered to Dr. Alexander Munro, Professor of Anatomy in the University of Edinburgh, to be by him publicly dissected and anatomized, in terms of the said act, and ordain all his moveable goods and gear to be escheat and inbrought to His Majesty’s use, which is pronounced for doom.
| (Signed) | D. Boyle, | |
| A. Maconochie, | ||
| J. H. Mackenzie. |
Counsel for the Crown, the Lord Advocate, Robert Dundas, Esq., Archibald Alison, Esq., and Alexander Wood, Esq., Advocate Deputies, James Tytler, Esq., Crown Agent.
Counsel for Burke, Sir James W. Moncrieff, Bart., Dean of Faculty, Patrick Robertson, Mark Napier, and David Milne, Esqrs.
Counsel for M‘Dougal, Henry Cockburn, Duncan M‘Neil, Hugh Bruce, and George Patton, Esqrs.
Agent for both pannels, James Beveridge, Esq. W. S. one of the agents for the poor.
We understand that the learned counsel above named, all very handsomely gave their services to the prisoners gratuitously.
Having thus given a faithful account of the judicial proceedings in this important trial, it will not, we trust, be an unacceptable supplement if we subjoin some particulars connected with it, which might indeed have been interwoven in the progress of the foregoing report, but which would have only incumbered the technical details that are, of course, most interesting. To these particulars we may add such other facts connected with the nefarious system of murder which had been organized among us as have transpired since the trial; and in an affair which has excited the most extraordinary sensation ever perhaps known in Scotland, in reference to crimes of a private nature, it seems desirable not only to give a complete and connected account of them, but to collect and embody along with it, in a single record, the various expressions of public feeling, as these have come forth through the press in all parts of the country.
From the whole evidence there appears scarce the shadow of a doubt that Helen M‘Dougal was equally involved with the other in this scheme of systematic murder. She did not put forth her hands because this was not the part which she was best fitted to perform; but that she was privy to what was about to take place is clearly made out, by her reluctance to part with the woman Campbell, evidently from the fear of losing her prey; and that she was an accessary after appears from what she said to the Grays, that if they would conceal what they saw, it would be worth to them L.10 a week. This is proved by the testimony of those witnesses, which is above all challenge. That it should have been necessary to set at liberty a wretch of this description, stained with such foul crimes, to begin anew her career of iniquity, cannot be sufficiently regretted.
HELEN M‘DOUGAL
as she appeared at the Bar,
taken in Court
Published by Thomas Ireland Junr, Edinr.
We may mention also as a singular instance of the obliquity of the human understanding, or at least of the effect produced upon some by the Dean of Faculty’s powerful speech for Burke, that two of the Jury by whom he was tried were of opinion that the Prosecutor had not made out his case against that unhappy man, and consequently were for returning a verdict of Not Proven in his case as well as that of M‘Dougal. No one who attended to the evidence as it was led, or who has examined it since, has been able to discover upon what ground such a verdict was returned even in the case of the female pannel; but had the opinion of these two gentlemen prevailed, and the charges against Burke been found not proven, Justice might have thrown away her balance and broken her sword, and the Prosecutor might well have despaired of ever again obtaining a verdict upon a charge of murder. Happily nothing so utterly monstrous as this occurred. Justice has received one victim, but she will not be satisfied with this solitary sacrifice. Others yet remain to be claimed, whose hands are dyed in blood, and whose criminality is not either in law or in morality inferior to that of the unhappy man whose days are numbered, and who is doomed to expiate his manifold crimes on the scaffold.
The intense sensation which has been excited among all classes by this extraordinary case, far exceeds what we have ever witnessed on any former occasion. The story, when it was first rumoured, created the deepest agitation. But it was treated by many as an idle tale, framed to feed the vulgar appetite for the marvellous, and too horrible to be believed. Nor need we wonder that the most credulous should have been startled by the recital of such atrocious cruelty, which far surpasses any thing that is usually found in the records of crime. The offence of murder, dreadful as it is, is unhappily too familiar in our criminal proceedings; but such an artfully contrived and deliberate scheme, such a systematic traffic in blood, was certainly never before heard of in this country. It is a new passage in our domestic history; it is entirely out of the ordinary range of iniquity; and stands by itself, a solitary monument of villany, such as would almost seem to mark an extinction in the heart of all those social sympathies which bind man to his fellow-men, and even of that light of conscience which awes the most hardened, by the fear of final retribution. In works of fiction, no doubt, where the writer, to produce effect, borrows the aid of his imagination, we have accounts of such deeds, perpetrated, perhaps, in the secret chambers of some secluded castle, or in the deep recesses of some lone and sequestered haunt. But the striking and awful peculiarity of the present case is, that we have laid open, not in the high-wrought scenes of romance, but in the sober records of judicial inquiry, a den of murderers in the very bosom of civilized society, in the heart of our populous city, amid the haunts of business and the bustle of ordinary life, who have been, if we may so speak, living on their fellow-creatures as their natural prey. Words would fail to convey an idea of the sensation that was excited in the Court as in the progress of the trial the horrid details of this conspiracy were gradually unfolded; the craft by which the unhappy woman was lured to her destruction; the artful preparations for the bloody tragedy; and the cool decision and ferocity with which, when the fitting time was come, the murderer sprung upon his victim and extinguished life in a few moments. At every new view of this unhappy story, it assumes a deeper dye. What a fearful character does it present of cunning and violence, the true ingredients of villany! From first to last we see the same master spirit of iniquity at work to contrive and to execute. We see no doubt, no wavering, no compunctious visitings of the conscience, nor any soft relenting; but a stern deliberation of purpose, that is truly diabolical; and it is fearful to reflect, that a person capable of such crimes should have been so long haunting our streets, mixing in society, and coolly selecting subjects for his sanguinary trade.
Among the other peculiarities of the present case, we may remark, that such acts of savage atrocity are rather out of place in so civilized a community as that in which we live. They are not in unison with the moral tone of society. Crimes of violence are the natural product of barbarism. They grow up to frightful maturity in that congenial soil; and all savage communities are accordingly distinguished by cruelty, and the most profligate indifference to human life. As mankind improve, and as knowledge is diffused, those crimes disappear, and are succeeded by others sufficiently odious, no doubt, but still of a less atrocious nature. The same process by which we cultivate the intellectual faculties would seem also to open the heart to more humane sentiments and to more kindly feelings. But however we may improve society and diffuse instruction, there is still a vast expanse of ignorance, poverty, and vice, which we may lessen by active efforts, but which we cannot altogether remove, and it is in this intellectual desert, if we may so speak, where nothing that is humane, enlightened, or moral, ever springs up to refresh the eye, that crimes are produced. Under the influence of ignorance all the best affections of the human heart wither and lie dead; and it is chiefly from those who are within its sphere, that the ranks of crime are recruited; and that, occasionally, such wretches arise as Burke or Hare, or their female associates, who distance all competitors in iniquity, and shock the feelings of the age by their enormous crimes. It will generally be found that these criminals are not only wicked and immoral, but that they are uneducated and grossly ignorant; living, no doubt, in a civilized community, and with certain habits of civilization that they cannot avoid, but still in respect to mental cultivation, scarcely, if at all, raised above the level of savages. Hence the vast importance to society of spreading knowledge, of bringing all ranks under some process of mental tuition, and of establishing schools where instruction and morality, for they go together, are retailed at a cheap rate. It is only in this way that we can ensure the decrease of crimes; and more especially of such atrocious crimes as have been recently perpetrated.
In the course of this trial, some allusion was made to the interests of science, to which, in the impressive address of Lord Meadowbank, previous to passing sentence, there is a conclusive reply, and we would only remark, that the more this subject is agitated, the greater will be the prejudice excited; nor can any law be made that would be of the least service. The subject, involving as it does so many critical considerations, is far too delicate to be touched by act of Parliament; besides, that the popular ferment, that would thereby be raised, would multiply the present difficulties tenfold. We cannot possibly comprehend how Parliament could interfere in this matter, or how any act could be framed to make that legal which is at present illegal. Science, in short, may be injured, but it cannot possibly be benefited by any public agitation of the subject.
During the whole course of the trial Burke maintained the most perfect self-possession and tranquillity, even when some parts of the evidence that made others shudder came out against him. He conversed occasionally with M‘Dougal, and more than once we saw him smile at such parts of the testimonies as probably appeared to him not to be “the whole truth.”
In the course of his trial we understand that Burke, about four o’clock, asked when he would get dinner, and being informed it would be about six, he begged that he might have a biscuit or two, as he would lose his appetite before that time. Both pannels ate bread and soup heartily; and although they displayed no external marks of inward emotion, they frequently, especially the woman, took copious draughts of water.
Before the jury retired, and during the time they were enclosed, Burke endeavoured to prepare the mind of M‘Dougal for her fate, as, from the address of the Lord Justice Clerk, he supposed she would be found guilty; in the view of which he gave her directions how she should conduct herself, desiring her to look at and observe him when the Lord Justice Clerk was pronouncing sentence. When the jury returned with their verdict, they mentioned first that they found the libel against M‘Dougal Not Proven. He was immediately heard coolly to exclaim, “Nelly, you are out of the scrape.” After the Lord Justice Clerk’s address to him he was very anxious that permission should be given to M‘Dougal to remain a day or two in the Lock-up-house, for her personal protection.
The advocates for the Crown and the pannels spoke in their addresses to the jury nearly six hours; and, altogether, the trial was one of the most interesting we ever witnessed, by the horrors which the investigation disclosed, by the intense interest which pervaded the whole assemblage, and by the picturesque and singular appearance of the scene. This was not a little heightened by the expedient to which the greater part of the audience were obliged to resort for self preservation against the inclemency of the weather. By orders from the Court a large window was thrown open as far as it could be done, and a current of cold damp air beat, for twenty-four hours, upon the heads of the whole audience. How far this was necessary or considerate we presume not to say; and we trust no fatal consequences will ensue; but we must be permitted to express a hope that some plan will be adopted for preventing a repetition of a similar occurrence—such an occurrence as last winter, on Mrs. Smith’s trial, endangered the life of one of our most valuable and esteemed advocates. In the present instance, the greater part of the audience being Advocates and Writers to the Signet in their gowns, these were wrapped round their heads, and, intermingled with various coloured handkerchiefs in every shade and form of drapery, which gave to the visages that were inshrouded under them, such a grim and grisly aspect as assimilated them to a college of monks or inquisitors, or characters imagined in tales of romance,—grouped and contrasted most fantastically with the costume of the bench and crowded bar engaged in the trial.
The personal appearance of Burke and M‘Dougal has been already mentioned; and that of Hare has also been described in terms sufficiently glowing by the Counsel for M‘Dougal. Hare is indeed one of the most squalid-looking wretches we have ever seen; and when he gave his evidence, he had a sinister expression in his look which made his presence peculiarly revolting. After being warned not to answer any questions which might criminate himself, except with regard to the murder of Docherty, instead of answering Mr. Cockburn’s interrogatories, he repeatedly gave a silent diabolical nod with his head; and on his way from the witness-box to the Lock-up-house in the custody of the macer, he had a look of evident satisfaction in his imagined escape; and he even chatted and conducted himself with the most hardened levity. He repeatedly, when giving his evidence, distinguished Docherty by the contemptuous appellation of “the old wife.” His appearance betokens the greatest effrontery, while it is altogether that of a low blackguard; and all his demeanour fully justifies Mr. Cockburn’s account of him as an embodiment of “penury and profligacy.” His wife is a short, stout, round-faced and fresh-complexioned personage, but withal has a look of coarse and determined brutality, fitting her to be a suitable consort to such a mate. From their demeanour and aspect it is perhaps less to be marvelled at that some of the jury, led away also by the eloquence of the Dean of Faculty and Mr. Cockburn, should have been unwilling to convict even Burke on the testimony of such wretches to whom falsehood seemed more familiar than truth.
The honest Irishman Gray, and his wife, to whom alone the public are indebted for the disclosure of this base murder, and the exposure of the gang of miscreants engaged in this trade of blood, forms an interesting contrast to the party with whom their miseries made them for a time bed-fellows. And when it is known, that in addition to the temptation for concealment which their poverty and the promised reward for secrecy supplied, there was the additional one of screening a near relation, their honesty assumes a higher character. Hitherto they have not met with the applause nor the reward to which their integrity and valuable services entitle them. They both gave their testimony with a clearness and precision, and in a manner which bespoke a clear conscience, and no one could see and hear them without sympathising sincerely with these poor but honest people, whose destitution subjected them and their child to repose on the bloody bed of straw, on which perhaps they were destined, at no distant period, to have perished, if they had not been providentially the means of bringing those hidden deeds to light. It has been well observed, that the fiendish gang gave a powerful though unwilling testimony to their uncorrupted honesty when they found it necessary to put them out of the way until their deeds of darkness were perpetrated.[2]
Blame has sometimes been cast upon the periodical press for raising a popular excitement by exaggerated statements. In this case, no such charge could be made. The press, up to the time of the trial, remained nearly silent, and the dreadful and revolting crimes then divulged were beyond the conceptions almost of the most fertile imagination. Popular feeling was however excited; and the interest universally expressed, has seldom been equalled in intensity. At an early hour in the morning, the avenues to the Court were crowded; judicious arrangements had been made for the jurymen, witnesses, and those who were concerned, procuring admittance by private entrances; and due precautions used to prevent a rush and inconvenient crowding into the Court. Still, however, the court-room, which is small, was excessively crowded; and although very few were suffered to pass the cordons of policemen, who guarded the approaches, it continued in this state till the result was known. The usual good nature and sympathy towards a criminal were laid aside in this instance, and a universal desire seemed to pervade all classes, that both pannels should be convicted, and a regret that Hare also and his guilty partner could not share the same fate. All day, the streets in the neighbourhood of the Parliament Square were thronged by anxious groupes, who eagerly questioned those proceeding from the Court as to the progress of the trial, and their reports speedily found their way to the remotest parts of the city. The imperfect rumours of the objection made to the relevancy of the indictment, and the subsequent account of its being confined to one charge, seemed to create a fear that the criminals were about to elude the grasp of the law on some technical grounds. Had such been the case, a popular tumult from the reckless, unthinking part of the assemblage appeared an inevitable consequence. Towards the evening, the numbers increased; and about nine o’clock, a gang of blackguard men and boys proceeded to Dr. Knox’s class-room, in Surgeons’ Square, for the purpose of destruction. By this time the high constables, and the other bodies of constables, joined to the ordinary police force, were in readiness, and the steady front that was exhibited quickly induced the assailants to withdraw. Some of the mob proceeded to the college, and broke a few panes of glass in the windows of Dr. Monro’s class-room and the neighbouring rooms; but the arrival of a party of constables and policemen speedily stopped their proceedings here also. During part of the night, the concourse continued; but as the inclemency of the weather continued, and the night advanced, without bringing a prospect of a speedy conclusion, the people gradually dispersed. The hour to which the proceedings were protracted, allowed time for them to reassemble next morning, and with renewed patience wait the conclusion. Hasty inquiries about the result were made by those citizens who had spent the night comfortably in bed, and were now proceeding to their places of business, of those coming from the direction of the Court, and whose jaded and pale appearance betokened that they had either been employed in some capacity, or had been so fortunate as to obtain a hearing of the interesting proceeding at the expense of a night’s rest. The citizens of Edinburgh are by no means blood-thirsty, and, on ordinary occasions, would rejoice to learn that a fellow-being had escaped the fearful death that the law adjudges to great criminals; but in this case there was expressed a universal feeling of satisfaction, and if at all alloyed, it was by the knowledge that the woman, who was considered equally guilty, should not have been equally punished. It seemed as if the enormity of their offences had stopped the channels of pity, and an unanimous requisition for vengeance was made by a whole population.
The offices of the newspapers published on that day were beset by eager purchasers, and the presses kept constantly at work could scarcely supply the unceasing demand. It has been computed, that eight thousand copies, in addition to their ordinary circulation, were sold in one week by the Edinburgh newspapers alone.
A general outcry has been raised for the blood of the miscreant Hare, and if he, who is believed to have been the author and principal actor in so many murders, be suffered to escape, it will be to the disappointment of the public; every confidence, is, however, felt in the Lord Advocate. He, it is understood, is still actively prosecuting his inquiries, and as long as the ruffian and his wife are detained in custody, hopes are cherished that it is with a view of putting them upon their trial. Discussions have taken place as to the policy and legality of such a course, some of which will be found in the subsequent parts of this work. It is not our part to decide upon the question, but apparently nothing will allay the public ferment until either a resolution to sift the matter regarding them to the bottom be promulgated, or some official annunciation of its impracticability be made public.