While he resided in the West Port, he was remarked to be a very early riser, frequently appearing on the streets in his working dress, on a summer morning by three or four o’clock; some who were also on foot at these early hours, used to observe him, and taunt the shoemakers of the West Port with the observation that the Irish lad was the most industrious man among them. It is probable that this activity was for a very different purpose to what was suspected.
The first dealing in subjects commenced in a manner which few would be inclined to visit with very great reprehension, and had the pair throughout confined themselves to similar exploits, they would probably have been regarded as adroit and ingenious knaves, perhaps more beneficially employed in furnishing the necessary supply of subjects in a manner which harmed no one, than from their bad habits they were likely otherwise to be.
In December 1827, the natural death of a lodger happened in Hare’s house,—not of a woman, as has been erroneously stated, but of a very tall and stout man, a pensioner who led a dissipated good-for-nothing life. His debauched habits sufficiently account for his death, while yet in the vigour of life, without any suspicion of unfair agency being aroused.
After his decease, the ordinary observances were gone through, and all matters fitly prepared for the funeral; a coffin was procured, and the funeral guests invited, and every thing managed in a decorous manner; the undertaker came, and while employed in fastening down the lid, was invited into the other room to recruit his strength by a dram, the coffin was then uncovered, and the corpse quickly dislodged and made to change situations with a sack of waste bark which had been previously procured from a neighbouring tannery. After this, the fastening proceeded. The coffin was borne out at the appointed time, before the assembled guests, and with all due solemnity deposited in the Grey Friars churchyard. The rogues, after the ceremony, proceeded to find out a purchaser for the body, and so unacquainted were they with the manner of proceeding, that they did not at first apply to the proper quarter. Throughout the day, however, they found this out, and at dusk the subject was conveyed away in the sack which had held the bark, and was carried on Burke’s back. Their first resting place was at Bristo Port, where it was set down for a little, when Hare took his share of the burden. They then took the round-about road of College Street to Surgeons’ Square. They soon afterwards, however, found out the nearest way.
After all that has been said, subjects must be procured for scientific purposes; the necessity of a young man under a course of education for surgical practice qualifying himself for his future profession by anatomical dissections, renders them indispensable, while the very ordinances and regulations of the College of Surgeons, makes dissection imperative before he can obtain a diploma or license to follow his profession. Were all subjects procured in this harmless way, where neither the feelings of private friends were outraged, nor public decency violated, small fault would be found, though the nature of the traffic would continue still sufficiently revolting to deter all but ruthless blackguards from embarking in it.
But after once gaining what to them was a large sum of money, Burke’s and Hare’s cupidity could not be satisfied with this comparatively innocent method of supplying their wants. They were apparently too indolent or inexpert, or lacked courage too much, to adopt the ordinary but hazardous mode of raising the dead from church-yards. Still, with this easy, and apparently unlimited means of acquiring money opening to them, they could not betake themselves again to the pursuits of honest industry; and, stimulated by the greatness of the reward, and the prospect of their sensual indulgences being so readily gratified, they formed the desperate resolution of committing murder, and of continuing to imbrue their hands in their fellow-mortals’ blood, as their ordinary and sole means of procuring a livelihood.
Before commencing the revolting narrative of their appalling crimes, we may mention, that previous to the period in which they engaged in them, their neighbours used to observe them only to notice the squalor and wretchedness of their appearance; but all at once, there was a sudden change, and Burke and M‘Dougal especially assumed a different aspect. They appeared well dressed, and spent money freely. Whisky, which however much it may be relished, can only be procured at intervals by men in his situation, seemed to be constantly at their command; and even credit at a neighbouring spirit-dealer and grocer’s, was obtained, to an extent that almost no individual in his situation would have ventured to hope for or request. At this time, Burke mentioned to the wife of an old acquaintance, whom he met accidentally, that he had spent fourteen pounds within the last fortnight; and if he had known where her husband lived, would have been glad to come and spend three or four pounds in company with him. Of course, all this apparent affluence was not exhibited, without exciting the speculation of those who observed it; and they were troublesome in their inquiries into the secret, that enabled them to live well, and drink continually, without working. Various were the excuses that were made; for they never appear to have been at a loss for an answer. On one occasion, when the question was put to Burke, and suspicions intimated, that he followed the trade of a resurrection man, he neither would give a denial nor an affirmative to the proposition, but contented himself with remarking, that the querist was as bad as the rest. On another, he would ask Mrs. —— “Can you keep a secret,” and when the curious inquirer, expecting to be entrusted with the whole mystery, eagerly answered, “Yes,” he would reply, with an air of secrecy, that he smuggled a little small-still whisky.
Nelly M‘Dougal had a different way of accounting for it. She averred that she had a property in Stirlingshire, which had been left to her by her former husband, and which produced twenty pounds a year; and that it was from the rent of it the money came. It was afterwards observed to her by some of the neighbours, that this story would scarcely account for their abundant supply of money, as the rents of such properties, as she described, were usually drawn at definite terms, and they seemed to get money much more frequently. She then alleged that the money was the proceeds of a legacy that had been lately left her, and that she drew part of it when she pleased. To humour this story, she used to announce to her acquaintances, from time to time, that their money was expended, and that she had written off for a fresh supply. In a few days, accordingly, she intimated that the money had arrived, and new vigour was imparted to their drunken disorderly courses.
It must be perfectly apparent what the dispatching of the letter meant, and if these proceedings does not amount to a guilty knowledge and accession to the murders, so far as knowledge of, and sharing in the proceeds goes, we do not comprehend what can constitute participation.
At another time she intimated that William [Burke] was the favourite of a lady in the New Town, who never allowed him to want money, and sometimes she had known him receive twenty pounds at a time from her.