In the course of this trial he appears to have been naturally mild tempered and humane, but without principles of conduct, and easily led to crime. He writes in his letters affectionately of his children.
On the Friday before his execution he was visited by his daughter, Cecil, a fine girl of about ten years of age. The feelings of a father were superior to every other consideration, and the falling tears, which he endeavoured to suppress, gave strong proofs of his sensibility; he embraced her with emotion, and blessed her with the warmest affection.
On the Sunday preceding his execution a respite of six weeks arrived for Falconer and Bruce, the two people condemned for robbing the Dundee Bank. The news made Brodie more serious for a little time than he had before been, and he expressed his satisfaction at the event, declaring that it gave him as much pleasure as if mercy had been extended to himself. On Smith observing, “Six weeks is but a short period,” Brodie, with some emotion, cried out, “George, what would you and I give for six weeks longer? Six weeks would be an age to us!”
He made frequent inquiries about the alterations that were making at the place of execution, which his friends declined answering out of tenderness. He observed that the noise made by the workmen was like that of shipbuilders; but for the short voyage he was going to make he thought so much preparation was unnecessary. On being visited by a friend on the Sunday evening he, with great calmness and composure, gave the needful directions respecting his funeral, and acknowledged with gratitude the attention that had been paid him during his confinement.
On the Monday preceding his death, at the request of George Smith, the two prisoners, Falconer and Bruce, for whom a respite had been obtained, were removed from the room in which they had all been confined. They parted from their companions in misery with great feeling and sensibility, and during the process of taking off their chains, Mr. Brodie, with great calmness, remained an unaffected spectator. Nothing appeared capable of shaking that fortitude which had attended him during the whole of his confinement.
On Tuesday morning, the day before his execution, a gentleman, who was visiting him, occasionally remarked the fatal consequences of being connected with bad women, and in how many instances it had proved ruinous. He began singing, with the greatest cheerfulness, from the “Beggar’s Opera”—“ ’Tis woman that seduces all mankind.” The gentleman reproved this levity, but he sang out the song.
On the Tuesday evening, the 30th of September, the magistrates gave an order that none should be admitted to him but clergymen—a report having prevailed that there was an intention of putting self-destruction in his power. But of this order he complained, appearing to have full conviction of the dreadful consequences attending the crime of suicide; and declared that if poison was placed on one hand and a dagger at the other he would refuse them both, and not launch into eternity with the horrid crime of self-murder to account for—he would submit to the sentence of the laws of his country, and would wait his fate with calmness and composure.
The nearer the fatal moment approached the greater his resolution and fortitude appeared, without any adventitious aid, his manner of living being rather abstemious. He astonished every one that conversed with him, and his courage and magnanimity would have rendered his name immortal had he fallen in a good cause.
Late in the evening, while he was inveighing with some acrimony on the cruelty of not admitting his friends to him, he was suddenly agitated by hearing some noise, and, turning to Smith, he said, “George do you know what noise that is?” “No,” said Smith. “Then I’ll tell you; it is the drawing out of the fatal beam on which you and I must suffer to-morrow! I know it well.” Soon after eleven he went to bed, and slept till four in the morning, and continued in bed till near eight o’clock without discovering any symptoms of alarm at his approaching fate.
At nine o’clock the next morning (Wednesday, 1st October) he had his hair fully dressed and powdered. Soon after a clergyman entered and offered to pray with him. Mr. Brodie desired he might use despatch, and make it as short as possible. During the remainder of his time he was employed in the most painful of all trials—parting with his friends, which he did with the utmost fortitude and composure.