Trial of Deacon Brodie - Unknown

On 15th January, 1788, Braxfield was appointed Lord Justice-Clerk, in succession to Thomas Miller of Barskimming, promoted to the Presidency of the Court of Session. He held that important office during a very interesting and critical period; and presided at the trials of Muir, Palmer, Margarot, and others, who were indicted for sedition in 1793-4, in the course of which he let fall from the bench the obiter dictum—“I never likit the French a’ my days, but now I hate them.” “In these,” says Lord Cockburn, “he was the Jeffreys of Scotland. He, as the head of the Court, and the only very powerful man it contained, was the real director of its proceedings” (“Memorials of his Time,” 1856, p. 116).

The conduct of Braxfield during these memorable trials has been freely censured in recent times as having been marked by great and unnecessary severity; but, the truth is, he was extremely well fitted for the crisis in which he was called on to perform so conspicuous a part, for by the bold and fearless front he assumed, he contributed not a little to curb the lawless spirit that was abroad, and which threatened a repetition of that reign of terror and anarchy which so fearfully devastated a neighbouring country. As an instance of his great nerve, it is recorded that Braxfield, after the trials were over, which was generally about midnight, always walked home to his house in George Square alone and unprotected, though he constantly commented openly on the conduct of the Radicals, and more than once observed in public, “They would a’ be muckle the better o’ being hangit!”

After a laborious and very useful life, Braxfield died at his residence, No. 28 George Square, Edinburgh, on 30th May, 1799, in the seventy-eighth year of his age, and was buried at Lanark on 5th June following. Before taking up his residence in George Square, Braxfield lived for many years in Covenant Close. He was twice married. By his first wife, Mary Agnew, niece of Sir Andrew Agnew, he had two sons and two daughters; by his second wife; Elizabeth, daughter of Lord Chief Baron Ord, he had no children.

Braxfield was the last of our judges who rigidly adhered to the old “braid Scots.” “Hae ye ony counsel, man?” said he to Margarot, when placed at the bar, “Dae ye want tae hae ony appintit?” “No,” replied Margarot; “I only want an interpreter to make me understand what your Lordship says!” “Strong built and dark, with rough eyebrows, powerful eyes, threatening lips, and a low, growling voice, he was like a formidable blacksmith. His accent and his dialect were exaggerated Scotch; his language, like his thoughts, short, strong, and conclusive” (Cockburn, “Memorials of his Time,” 1856, p. 113). “Despising the growing improvement of manners, he shocked the feelings even of an age which, with more of the formality, had far less of the substance of decorum than our own. Thousands of his sayings have been preserved, and the staple of them is indecency, which he succeeded in making many people enjoy, or at least, endure, by hearty laughter, energy of manner, and rough humour” (ib. p. 114).

He domineered over the prisoners, the counsel, and his colleagues alike. Devoid of even a pretence to judicial decorum, he delighted while on the bench in the broadest jests and the most insulting taunts, “over which he would chuckle the more from observing that correct people were shocked. Yet this was not from cruelty, for which he was too strong and too jovial, but from cherished coarseness” (ib. pp. 115-116). Gerald, at his trial, ventured to say that Christianity was an innovation, and that all great men had been reformers, “even our Saviour Himself.” “Muckle He made o’ that,” chuckled Braxfield; “He was hangit” (ib. p. 117). On another occasion he remarked to an eloquent culprit at the bar, “Ye’re a vera clever chiel, man, but ye wad be nane the waur o’ a hangin’ ” (Lockhart’s “Life of Scott,” 1845, p. 425).

Of Braxfield’s grim humour in its unprofessional aspect but a few samples are now tolerable. Among these, however, is the following:—When a butler gave up his place because his mistress was always scolding him, “Lord!” exclaimed his master, “ye’ve little tae complain o’; be thankfu’ ye’re no marriet till her.”

“Out of the bar or off the bench,” says Stevenson, “he was a convivial man, a lover of wine, and one who shone peculiarly at tavern meetings.” When Lord Newton, then Charles Hay, was one morning pleading before him, after a night of hard drinking—the opposing counsel being in the like case—Braxfield observed, “Gentlemen, ye maun just pack up yer papers and gang hame; the tane o’ ye’s riftin’ punch and the ither’s belchin’ claret; there’ll be nae guid got oot o ye the day!” (“Kay’s Portraits,” 1877, vol. i., p. 169).

A portrait of Braxfield by Sir Henry Raeburn was exhibited at the Raeburn Exhibition at Edinburgh in 1876, a delightful description of which is given by R. L. Stevenson in his essay, “Some Portraits by Raeburn” (“Virginibus Puerisque,” 1881, pp. 219-236). Braxfield was, as every one knows, the prototype of Stevenson’s “Weir of Hermiston,” originally intended to be named “The Justice-Clerk,” and of which the author wrote to Mr. Charles Baxter, on 1st December, 1892, “Mind you, I expect ‘The Justice-Clerk’ to be my masterpiece. My Braxfield is already a thing of beauty and a joy for ever, and, so far as he has gone, far my best character” (“Letters to his Family and Friends,” 1899, vol. ii. p. 273)—a judgment which the literary world has unanimously sustained.

There is preserved in the Advocates’ Library a copy of the “Latin Thesis on a Title of the Pandects” (“De Cadaveribus Damnatorum”), written by Sir Walter Scott on his admission to the Faculty of Advocates, 11th July, 1792, with the following dedication:—