She was quite ignorant of what had become of her husband since she left Edinburgh. She asked if he had been subsequently tried, and expressed the utmost indifference respecting his fate. She said she was determined never more to associate with him, or have any thing to do with him.
It was truly melancholy to see her stretched on the guardbed of the cell, in tears, with her infant, eleven months old, clasped to her breast; and, as “the mother of eleven children,” imploring the protection of the police, and that they would not make “a show of her.” She occasionally burst into tears while deploring her unhappy situation, which she ascribed to Hare’s utter profligacy, and said, all she wished was to get across the Channel, and end her days in some remote spot in her own country, in retirement and penitence. She has since left Greenock in the Fingal, Belfast steam packet.
The public, in various country towns and villages seem to be absurdly lawless in their conduct towards any unfortunate individuals in whom they choose to recognise a resemblance to the miserable outcasts. Several unfortunate individuals have been subjected to rough treatment in consequence of some fancied likeness to the murderers, and all efforts to undeceive their tormentors rendered unavailing by their determination to execute summary justice upon some one, and their disinclination to allow the victim to escape out of their hands. This inordinate desire of working vengeance has sometimes been exhibited when it was scarcely possible to suppose that the populace could be so senseless as believe that the veritable culprit was in their hands.
While it was perfectly well known that Hare was detained in close confinement, possessing the usual complement of members, a poor itinerant flute blower, who contrives to manage his instrument with one hand and a stump substituted for the other, was assaulted in consequence of some idle reports that he was Hare, and it was with some difficulty that he was rescued. Another unlucky wight was also mistaken for Hare at Kirkliston a few days back, and maltreated in such a manner that he is now a patient in the Royal Infirmary. Although he is directly dissimilar to him in appearance, being a tall dark Scot, and speaking his mother tongue with a true lowland accent, and we might add many like instances. Even some rural dignitaries have taken occasion to adopt summary measures, towards those whose condition allowed them some pretence to display the vigour of the law. In a West Country Burgh, the following narrative is given of a search for M‘Dougal;—“The principal rendezvous of ‘randy gangrel bodies’ was searched; the whole thirty-six beds were overhauled, but she was nowhere to be found; the search however warranted the suspicion that some of the Cadgers who frequented the house had no lawful trade by which their earnings could equal their expenditure,—marked attention was drawn to Pig Jock, as it was evident all the rags he took to Edinburgh, and all the crockery he brought in return, even though stolen, was not sufficient to pay his weekly bill; and it being surmised that the keeper of the house was not ignorant of the ways of his guests, he and Jock have been banished forth of the town.”
There seems really very little legal evidence against poor Jock, while the landlord’s being made accountable “for the ways of his guests” is a stretch of despotism scarcely allowable in a very small township.
Indeed the whole island appears to be “frightened from its propriety,” and each town vies with another in adding its quota of alarm. The Burke mania seems destined to exercise as great an influence on the minds of the poorer classes especially, as almost any other mania on record. Nearly every city or hamlet throughout the empire has had its tales of direful attempts at assassination, with their usual accompaniments of waylaying and pitch plaisters applied to the unfortunate victims, while the records of the police courts of the metropolis and other large cities furnish ample testimony of the extent to which the black catalogue of crimes has excited the fears of the people. From all accounts, we cannot doubt that some wicked and heartless individuals have been keeping alive the excitation by their foolish tricks, but we forbear giving extension to the evil by detailing any of them.
On the afternoon of Thursday the 12th of February, occurred what will probably prove the last ebullition of popular feeling on this subject in Edinburgh. It commenced with the dressing on the Calton Hill of an effigy intended to represent a celebrated anatomist. After this ceremony was concluded, the figure was paraded through the principal streets, borne aloft on men’s shoulders, with a placard on the back. A countless host of men, women, and children, accompanied the procession to Dr. Knox’s house in Newington, where the effigy was Burked and torn to pieces, and the windows of the house broken. The mob then attempted to do the same at Surgeons’ Square, but were prevented by the police, and dispersed, after traversing several streets, and breaking a number of panes in the College windows, &c.
A gentleman who rode up to Dr. Knox’s house, with the view of undergoing a surgical operation, was mistaken for him, and had nearly suffered from the violence of the crowd.
We have already exceeded the limits that we had prescribed, and still have not been able to touch upon the important subject of the best means for supplying the anatomical theatres with bodies for dissection, and we cannot now enter upon it. It is admitted by all enlightened people, that subjects must and will be procured, and that severe legislative enactments only tend to increase the difficulty, and enhance the price. The recent proceedings present a fearful illustration of this opinion; but out of evil, if properly considered, good may be extracted; and these transactions will, indeed, have failed in their effect, should some plan not be devised which, while it saves the feelings of relatives from outrage, may prevent a recurrence of such frightful scenes.