The Court of Cacus Part 10

Hare was still Hare up to the hour of his freedom, and that freedom, for which he had sacrificed the life of the man whom he had taught the trade of murder, was to be the test to try his obduracy, and prove the ruin of that persistency in evil which had mocked the ghosts of a score of murdered beings. He was let loose only to flee, and to flee under the only terror he felt--the uplifted hands of an avenging people. At a little past eight on the Thursday night, after the decision of the High Court of Justiciary, he was relieved from his cell in the Calton Hill Jail. It was a night of bitter frost, just such a one as Vejove would select for sending a Cain-marked murderer out upon the world. After being m.u.f.fled up in an old camlet cloak, he walked, in company with the head turnkey, as far as the Post-office in Waterloo Bridge without meeting with the slightest molestation. At this point his companion called a coach, and conveyed him to Newington, where the two waited till the mail came up. The guard's edition of the story varies thus far, that he took up an unknown pa.s.senger in Nicolson Street, where he was ordered to blow the horn. But the difference is immaterial, and might easily arise from Hare's state of mind. Be this as it may, he got safely seated on the top of the coach without challenge and without suspicion. In the way-bill he figured as a Mr Black--not an inappropriate name--and the tall man who came to see him off, exclaimed, when the guard cried, "All's right," "Good-bye, Mr Black, and I wish you well home."[20] At n.o.ble-house, the second stage on the Edinburgh road, twenty minutes were allowed for supper; and when the inside pa.s.sengers alighted and went into the inn, Hare was infatuated enough to follow their example. At first he sat down near the door, behind their backs, with his hat on, and his cloak closely m.u.f.fled about him. But this backwardness was ascribed to his modesty, and one of the pa.s.sengers, by way of encouraging him, asked if he was not perishing with cold. Hare replied in the affirmative, and then, moving forward, took off his hat, and commenced toasting his paws at the fire--a piece of indiscretion which can only be accounted for by his characteristic recklessness, not yet cured; and little, indeed, was he aware that Mr Sandford, advocate, one of the counsel employed against him in the prosecution at the instance of Daft Jamie's relations was then standing almost at his elbow. A single glance served all the purpose of the fullest recognition, and, as Hare naively enough remarked, "He shook his head at me," somewhat after the fashion, we suppose, of the ghost in Macbeth.

On the horn being blown, he contrived, after the manner of the Greek slayer, who was always ahead of the three Furies, to be first at the coach door, and finding an empty seat inside, he actually occupied it. "Take that fellow out," cried the indignant counsel, and out accordingly he was taken, and transferred to the top, whereupon Mr Sandford, eager, perhaps, to justify what had the appearance of cruelty on so bitter a night, revealed to his fellow-travellers what, perhaps, he ought not to have done. A secret is like gas, it spreads without burning, and at Beattock, the guard as well as the driver, knew all. They were only obliged to conceal it because there was no one to tell it to; but on the arrival of the coach at Dumfries, the servants who attended to take the inside pa.s.sengers' luggage, got the hint, and the news flew like a fire-flaught.

Meanwhile, Hare had slunk into the coach-office of the King's Arms. People were seen hurrying thither from every direction, crying, "Hare's in the King's Arms!" By eight o'clock, a large crowd had collected, and by ten it was perfectly overwhelming. You might have walked over the heads of a ma.s.s of people in the High Street and Buccleuch Street, amounting to 8000, reminding us of a great fair, when the country empties itself into the town. Their object they did not tell, nor was it necessary, except in so far as having known that he was for Port-Patrick, they proposed to do the great man honour _in their own way_. If Hare had got among these people, he would a.s.suredly have been sacrificed, for the dissatisfaction at his release was not confined to the metropolis. Meantime, the man, considering himself safe inside, and having from the first been surrounded by a knot of coachmen and guards, who handed him part of their ale, he clattered away, drinking absurd toasts, such as "Bad luck to bad fortune," and not denying his ident.i.ty: "No use for that now;" but all questions about his crimes he evaded; "he had said enough before;" "he had done his duty in Edinburgh." Yet we suspect that the light talk was the effect of the ale, for, to a gentleman who visited him, with a view to know something of his early history, he complained that he had no money, and when a guinea was handed to him, "he burst into tears." Yes, the time had come, or was approaching, when the hitherto maintained conditions of insensibility were to be broken, not for penitence, not even for remorse, but for regret, if not despair.

When this visitor retired, the people forced the door, and in an instant Hare was squeezed into a corner, reminding one of a hunted fox when, getting into a _cul de sac_, he turns round, shews his teeth, and vainly attempts to keep the jowlers at bay. In the absence of the police, his situation was far from being free from peril. The torrent of imprecations was fearful, and "Burke him!" came so savagely from so many throats, that he seemed on the very eve of being laid hold of and torn asunder. It is reported that one old woman was not only wonderfully emphatic and ferocious in her gestures, but strove to get forward to strike "the villain" with the end of her umbrella. And lucky it was that she did not get in the front, for mischief, like fire, needs only a beginning, and if one individual had lifted a hand, his fate would have been sealed. When the police arrived, the room was cleared, and Hare conveyed to a safer place till the Galway mail should start. With a view to this the inn-yard was closed with difficulty, the horses put too, and the coach brought out.

But the mob, with rather more eyes than the old watcher, had previously taken their plans, as if by instinct, and their aspect appeared so threatening that it was impossible to drive the mail along the High Street with the "fearful man" either inside or out. The coach accordingly started perfectly empty, two pa.s.sengers having been sent forward a few miles in a gig. The crowd opened and recoiled--the tremendous rush, the appalling waves on waves of people, heaving to and fro; and now the coach is again surrounded, amidst yells the doors opened, the interior exposed, even the boot examined. The people were still more exasperated because their plan was defeated--no other than to stop the mail at the middle of the bridge, and precipitate Hare from the parapet down into the river. Failing in this, they had determined to waylay the coach at Ca.s.sylands toll-bar, and there execute their purpose in another way, and as a preparation they had forcibly barricaded the gates. The crowd now rolled back in one continuous wave; and when the fact became known that he was still in the room of the inn, he was again broken in upon, forced to sit and stand in all positions and postures, turned round and back again, so that cool, insensate, and apathetic as he was, he was now stimulated into terror. Amidst all this the imprecations were repeated, and another woman, after having exhausted her ingenuity in words, seized him by the collar, and tugged so manfully that he was nearly strangled. At one moment the voice of a st.u.r.dy ostler got ascendancy over the noise:--"Whaur are ye gaun, man? or whaur can ye gang to? h.e.l.l's ower gude for ye. The very deevils, for fear o' mischief, wadna daur to let ye in; and as for heaven, that's entirely oot o' the question." Others, who wanted to drive matters to extremity, pretended to take his part, and urged him on. The old spirit came again, and he called out, "to come on, and give him fair play;" but this was a spurt, for despair was extending over him her dark wings, and so crucified was he, that he started, took his bundle, determined to "let the mob tak their will o' him"--a resolution in which he was checked by a medical man.

The innkeeper, Mr Fraser, in the meantime, apprehensive for the safety of his premises, was anxious to eject his dangerous customer. The entire town was, in short, so completely convulsed that it was impossible to tell what would happen next, and, after deliberation, the magistrates, who had a very onerous duty to perform, hit upon an expedient for getting quit of him, which, though successfully executed, had ten chances to one against it. Betwixt two and three, a chaise and pair were brought to the door of the King's Arms, a trunk buckled on, and a great fuss made; and while these means were employed as a decoy-duck, another chaise was got ready almost at the bottom of the back entry, and completely excluded from the view of the mob. The next step was to clear the room, and, after this, to get Hare to clamber, or, rather, jump out of the window of his prison, and crouch, cat-like, along the wall facing the stables. The task was well executed: the moment he got to the bottom and sprang into the chaise, the doors were closed and the whip cracked. Never before did a chaise rattle so furiously along the streets of Dumfries. To pa.s.s Mr Rankin's and round the corner of Richardson's brewery occupied only moments; but here the turn was taken so sharply that the chaise ran for a time on two side wheels. Had it upset, Hare was doomed; but the driver recovered the position of the coach, and away again at even a more rapid rate. The mob by this time had become suspicious of a manoeuvre, and, as the driver had a considerable round to make, they rushed in a twinkling and in prodigious ma.s.ses to intercept him at the middle of the sands. A rush down Bank Street like the letting out of waters, and from the opposite side of the river, numbers, suspecting the cause, hurried with such fury over the old bridge that the driver seemed destined to be outflanked and surrounded; nor could he have avoided this had it not been for the mettle of his horses and the willing arm that urged them on. Once again his charge is saved from instant death.

Even yet the flight was far from being accomplished. At every instant, he was intercepted and threatened, and, though he cowered down, stones threatened him on every side. Some stood still from inability to run, but others immediately supplied their places, filling up with almost the speed of thought the wake of the careering coach. An impression now prevailed that the driver meant to gallop out the Galloway road, and a rush was made to the western angle of the new bridge--a mistake which operated as a diversion in favour of the driver--nor were the few moments gained misemployed. The sharp corner of Dr Wood's laboratory was cleared almost at a single bound, and as he had now a broad street before him, nothing could exceed the fury with which he drove up to the jail door. Mr Hunter had previously received his cue, and, though a strong chain was placed behind the door, an opening was left to admit the fugitive. A spring over the gulf, and Hare is again safe.

His escape enraged the mob still more. As the numbers increased, they laid regular siege to the place of safety, preventing all ingress or egress. From four to eight, all was clamour and execration, and at nightfall, for reasons of their own, they smashed and extinguished the neighbouring lamps. A ponderous piece of iron was used as a battering-ram, aided by heavy stones, the rebound of which was so incessant and long-continued, that every fear was entertained they would succeed in forcing the jail. It was next proposed to apply tar barrels and peats for the purpose of forcing the door. By this time the magistrates were thoroughly roused. The militia staff and police had done their best without avail, and it was not till one hundred special constables were sworn in and marched to the spot, with batons, that the peace of the city was restored. Still the streets were in commotion, and it was afterwards ascertained that the mob still retained the intention of forcing the prison; but as the night waxed, their resolution waned, and at one o'clock on Sat.u.r.day morning not an individual was seen in Buccleuch Street. As the opportunity was too good to be lost, Hare was roused from his bed, where he had so long shivered, and ordered to prepare. While putting on his clothes, he trembled violently, yet inquired eagerly for his cloak and bundle; but as these articles were not at hand, he was told he must go without them. As the whole population of Galloway were in arms, and as the mail had been surrounded and searched at Crocketford toll-bar, and probably at every other stage betwixt Dumfries and Port-Patrick, it would have been madness to send him across the bridge, and he was recommended to take another route. At three o'clock he was seen by a boy pa.s.sing Dedbeck, and must have been beyond the border by the break of day. The driver of the mail reported that he saw him at a quarter-past five sitting on a heap of stones within two miles of Carlisle. It seems he had been again recognised, and told that the people of Carlisle were prepared to kill him; and although he appeared completely done up, he turned by the Newcastle road, and doubtless made his bed in the open fields. Little more was ever heard of Hare. If the Almighty, as Mr M'Diarmid added, when He appeared specially in the affairs of the world, left Cain to wander hopeless on the face of the earth, why should not Hare have been subjected to the same species of punishment? and, without wishing to refine too far, we may say, as the Roman said long ago, "Everything must bow to the majesty of the law; and that, from the weightiest circ.u.mstance down to the smallest, there is a medium course--a middle path--beyond which no rect.i.tude and no safety to mortals can exist."

As for Mrs Hare, she was liberated as soon after the trial as safety would permit; but almost immediately upon her release, a crowd collected round her. It was a cold, snowy day. She was pelted with snow-b.a.l.l.s and stones, and had some commiseration not been felt for the child she carried, she would, in all probability, have fallen a victim to the violence of the mob. Rescued by the police, she was conveyed to the Police-office, where she found shelter and protection. She afterwards escaped, and wandered about the country, not knowing whither to betake herself. At length she turned up in Glasgow, in the hope of getting a steamer for Ireland. For this purpose she was obliged to wait, and at night she ventured out to the Broomielaw to get information. Next morning she repeated her venture, and in Clyde Street was recognised by a woman, who cried out, "Hare's wife--Burke her!" and threw a large stone at her. The signal was enough. A crowd soon gathered, and pursuing her into the Calton offered her every indignity, nor can it be known how far they would have proceeded if she had not been taken from their hands by the police. It was described as truly pitiful to see her stretched on the guard bed of the cell, with her child clasped to her breast, weeping bitterly, and imploring the officers not to allow her to be made a show of. She was entirely ignorant of the fate of Hare, with whom she said she would never live again. All she wanted was to get to Ireland, and end her miserable life in some retired part of the country with penitence. She afterwards left Glasgow in the Fingal, and nothing more was ever heard of Mrs Hare.[21]

Some traces were also got of Helen M'Dougal.[22] Upon her release from the lock-up house, she had the audacity or folly to repair to her old haunts in the West Port, and even to appear in the street. She was recognised in an instant, and at once surrounded by a mob threatening to seize her, but fortunately the proximity of the district office insured protection, and with difficulty she was lodged. Yet this was only the sign for an uproar.

The mob increased to an alarming size for the slender force, and the officers were obliged to resort to an expedient to prevent an a.s.sault. A ladder was placed at a back window, by which it was pretended that she had got down, and the mob having dispersed, probably to pursue her, she was conveyed, under an escort, to the head-office. Again venturing out, she was repeatedly exposed to similar dangers, till, finding it impossible to put out her head in Edinburgh, she left secretly for Redding in Stirlingshire. She afterwards left that village, no doubt to be a wanderer, like the others, and with as little hope of rest to her feet as of peace to her soul.

The Final Cause.

There are one or two considerations connected with the history we have given which, though having something of a philosophical look, are yet sufficiently practical to be appreciated by the ordinary observer of human nature and the ways of G.o.d with His creatures. It is doubtful if, from the beginning, the actors in this drama were ever sufficiently understood; if it is not more true to say, that the people, eager to conserve the prestige of man's dignity, have been inclined, after the manner of purists, to set off exceptions to the general laws of human nature as the foil of some heaven-born exemption from crime. They have uniformly mixed contempt with their hatred of these strange men. They have not thought them ent.i.tled to be objects of consideration, far less study. They have represented them as something so far below their kind, that their deeds can no more enter as elements into a lesson than those of maniacs, or of the lower animals, who are exempted from the laws of responsibility, and so they have shewn an inclination to cast them out of the wide province of history; or, if they would allow them to remain within the precincts of annals, they would consign them to the grotesque page of _monstra horrenda_.

It is no doubt beneficial for man to think well of the good, but it is not advantageous for him to think lightly of the evil potentialities of his nature. We cannot deny that these men and women were sane; and we have higher authority than a wish-born logic or a self-gratifying rhetoric to satisfy us that "the heart of man is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." The authority is from heaven, and there is no want of verifying examples upon earth; nay, if we abate the "putrid coruscations,"

or what have been called "the blue lights of necromancy" that play round these sordid murders, and which are at least nourished by the fancy, we may find every day cases scarcely less cruel and scarcely less sordid,--if we might not even say that it requires some a.n.a.lysis to find the difference in mere turpitude between a man who murders for the money that is about the body and one who slays for that which the body will bring.

Then the repet.i.tion adds nothing to the atrocity of the individual act, while the premeditation is as signal in the slouching highwayman as in him who wiles the victim to the fatal den. In short, we may make what parade we please of the gradations of atrocity and the shades of our feelings, but we must always come back to the beginning, that there are no degrees of wickedness in those who have renounced G.o.d.

Not only, however, were these individuals sane; one among them, and the leader, was intelligent, had wit and humour, could feel the superficial sentiment of a pathetic lyric, and, above all, possessed ingenuity to the extent of inventing a new crime which has gone, with his name, over the world. The women, too, were intelligent and apt; nor has it been said that Mrs Hare did not feel the yearnings of a mother, or that M'Dougal was false to the affection, however low, which bound her to the tyrant who enslaved her. Even Hare was not a fool--a character inconsistent with a will-power which could govern a woman of his wife's acknowledged adroitness, and lead, if not rule, a man such as Burke, so that we may say that, so far as regards mere intelligence, the quaternity were a fair enough specimen of the people of their cla.s.s, in which certain parts of our city abound; while Burke may be safely p.r.o.nounced as being considerably above the average of uncultivated minds, left as a waste for the culture of the devil. But not only in this aspect were they worthy of study--they were perfect in their moral organisation as embodiments of evil, with no scruples, no misgivings, no backcomings of penitence, no fear of the future, and no remorse for the past. They were not only "clear grits"--they were "crystals." They were, out of millions, creatures suited to the work they did--the work was suited to them, and they did it with all that concentration of purpose and uniformity of action which proclaim the being under alienation from the Almighty.

In what we here venture to say we have a sufficient apology for disinterring these people and their deeds, as const.i.tuting the great lesson, that it is the _occasion_ that tests the man; even as it is true what the proverb says, that a man is never known till he is invested with power. As an abstract aphorism, that proverb has but little influence; it is only when we see it reduced to the concrete that we feel its truth and lay it up in our hearts; and this we are the more ready to do that, while we are well penetrated by that horror which is fear, we are not the less under the influence of that other horror, which is hatred. And here we insist for a distinction which may silence those who indulge in the fancy, that it is not useful or good to pander to an appet.i.te for details which, while they harrow the heart, are yet, by some strange peculiarity in our nature, not without a grim charm calculated to fascinate and yet not to deter. The fault here lies at the door of the chronicler, for it is he who holds the wand, and it requires only the mode of using it to change the appet.i.te into a revulsion, and to make the horror which is hatred paramount for good. It is only man who is false to nature, never nature to herself. Such deeds she exhibits in their true colours, and he who interprets her can only be true to his office when he produces those emotions which she produced in him uncoloured by the lights of a fact.i.tious fancy.

We may thus, even without going further, find a final cause in these terrible acts done by creatures made after the image of G.o.d. We have no more right to inquire why evil should be made to deter from evil, than to investigate into the origin of evil itself. Enough if we know and experience that the wages of sin is death; but we have here even more to consider. While we can have no doubt that the tragedy of Burke and Hare is calculated to deter not only from that sin which it involves, but from all those lesser ones which follow from the temptations of mammon, we have to recollect that it put an end to a pre-existing evil of gigantic magnitude, and which all the adjurations of a distressed people were not able otherwise to effect. That evil, as we have seen, was body-s.n.a.t.c.hing. No sooner were the murders which the temptations of that practice induced brought to light, than our legislators took to their powers and duties, and righted the nation. They saved the affections of the heart without annulling the aspirations of the intellect, served the purpose of science in its remedial application to physical ills, without desecrating the temple where burned the light of the spirit, and through which these ills are felt.

BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Scotland, with her open church-yards in secluded places, groaned under this infliction for centuries. See "An Account of the most horrid and unchristian actions of the Grave-makers in Edinburgh, their raising and selling of the dead, abhorred by Turks and heathens, found out in this present year, 1711, in the month of May." We offer an extract:--

"Methink I hear the latter trumpet sound, When emptie graves into this place is found, Of young and old, which is most strange to me, What kind of resurrection this may be.

I thought G.o.d had reserved this power alone Unto Himself, till He erect'd His throne Into the clouds with His attendants by, That He might judge the world in equity; But now I see the contrair in our land, Since men do raise the dead by their own hand."

The price was known too, as a fixed thing apparently--

"As I'm inform'd the chirurgeons did give Forty shillings for each one they receive."

[2] Take this specimen of his self-esteem:--"Gentlemen, I may mention that I have already taught the science of anatomy to about 5000 medical men now spread over the surface of the earth, and some of these have turned out most remarkable for their knowledge, genius, and originality, for they now occupy some of the most conspicuous and trying positions in Europe. As a piece of curious testimony to my capabilities of communicating to you knowledge, I may venture to mention to you an interesting fact which took place last summer while on a visit to my distinguished friend and pupil, the Right Honourable the Earl of Breadalbane, at his beautiful and picturesque seat of Taymouth Castle, in the shire of Perth. At a large party given by the n.o.ble Earl to the leading n.o.bility and gentry of Scotland, where, to use the beautiful language of Byron,

'A thousand hearts beat happily, and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, And all went merry as a marriage-bell;'

I, who was there as the Earl's guest, and knew personally none of the n.o.ble Earl's distinguished personages of the party, happened to fall accidentally into conversation with a n.o.ble lord--an adjoining proprietor of our generous host's--on the subject of the breeding of cattle; and, although our conversation originated in the slightest possible observation, it went on naturally enough, until, by imperceptible degrees, I was forced to open up the whole extensive stores of my anatomical and physiological knowledge, (especially the comparative departments of these subjects,) and before I had addressed myself to the n.o.ble lord for ten minutes continuously, for I actually felt myself inspired by my situation, the whole beauty and fashion of the large suite of rooms were surrounding me, and seemed entranced with the deep thought that poured from my lips. I naturally felt somewhat abashed that I had drawn upon myself so much observation, but the direct and indirect compliments that were paid to knowledge and eloquence amply compensated for this painful sensation.

Among other things, I shall never forget the observation of an old, fashionable, and distinguished dame, evidently belonging to the middle portion of the last century, in these memorable words, 'He's a cunning loon that, he would wile the lav'rock frae the lift,' for her quaint remark seemed to embody, in few words, the entire sentiment of the large and distinguished company, all ill.u.s.trating the adage of Bacon, that knowledge is power; and, when brought to bear with eloquence and propriety, it affects equally all conditions of life with its mighty overwhelming strength."

[3] The following, extracted from the MS. notes of a student, may be taken as a specimen of Knox's mode of dealing with his brethren:-"Before commencing to-day's lecture, I am compelled by the sacred calls of duty to notice an extraordinary surgical operation which has this morning been performed in a neighbouring building by a gentleman [Mr Liston] who, I believe, regards himself as the first surgeon in Europe. A country labourer from the neighbourhood of Tranent came to the Infirmary a few days ago with an aneurism of considerable extent, connected with one of the large arteries of the neck; and, notwithstanding of its being obvious to the merest tyro that it was an aneurism, the most distinguished surgeon in Europe, after an apparently searching examination, p.r.o.nounced it to be an abscess. Accordingly, this professional celebrity--who, among other things, plumes himself upon the wonderful strength of his hands and arms, without pretension to head, and is an amateur member of the ring--plunged his knife into what he thus foolishly imagined to be an abscess; and the blood, bursting forth from the deep gash in the aneurismal sac, the patient was dead in a few seconds. This notable member of the profession is actually an extra-academical lecturer on surgery in this great metropolis; and on this occasion was a.s.sisted by a gentleman similarly const.i.tuted, both intellectually and physically, who had been trained up under the fostering care of a learned professor in a certain university, who inherited his anatomical genius from his ancestors, and who has recently published a work on the anatomy of the human body, in which, among other notabilities, no notice is taken of the pericardium. Tracing the a.s.sistant of our distinguished operator further back, I have discovered that he had been originally apprenticed to a butcher of this city, but that he had been dismissed from this service for stealing a sheep's head and trotters from his employer's shambles. It is surely unnecessary for me to add that a knowledge of anatomy, physiology, pathology, and surgery, is neither connected with nor dependent upon brute force, ignorance, and presumption; nor has it anything to do with an utter dest.i.tution of honour and common honesty."--(Roars of applause, mixed with a few hisses.)

[4] However little connexion there seems between our indifference as to what becomes of the body and our belief in the immortality of the soul, it is, nevertheless, certain that believers and unbelievers do not view the subject in the same light. The ancients, in spite of Aristotle, (as we find him construed by Pomponatius,) were greater _natural_ believers in the doctrine of the soul's immortality, than the moderns, in spite of Des Cartes. And see how they venerated the dead! The Athenians put to death six generals who had achieved for them the greatest of their victories, because they had omitted to bury those who had been killed. When Alcyoneus took the head of Pyrrhus to his father Antigonus, that king struck the bearer with a staff, covered his eyes, and wept, and ordered that the dead body and the head should be honourably put on the pyre. The rabbinical fable of the _Luz_, or little bone of the size of a grain, which could not be destroyed even by fire, and from which _nostrum corpus animate repullulascet_, seems to have spread beyond Judea. We need not speak of Egypt and its sacred mummies.

[5] If, in these narratives, it may be found that I depart in some details from the discrepant confessions of Burke, I have to plead such authority as I possess, in a collection of notes taken at the time by one who intended to use them in a fuller account than that comprised in the two pamphlets published by Buchanan.

[6] She had been once a lodger in Log's house.

[7] On examining the animal, the knackers found that many old sores become hollows had been filled up with tow, and then plastered over with a thin skin.

[8] They are fully described, for the first time we believe, in "Curiosities of Crime in Edinburgh."

[9] We adopt this version in preference to another, which subst.i.tutes Burke.

[10] It was never believed that the cases confessed to by Burke exhausted the real list. One in particular, that of a little Italian boy, Ludovico, who went about with white mice, was a favourite story which could not be doubted, when it was known that the people of Tanner's Close saw, for years afterwards, the two little animals haunting the dark recesses, where their young master had been sacrificed. And many other visions were seen there besides those of the white mice. But, apart from these superst.i.tions, it is certain that there was found in Hare's house a cage with the mice's turning-wheel in it, which clearly had belonged to one of these Italian wanderers. The silence of Burke on the subject is of no importance, for his confessions did not agree, and, besides, it was properly asked, might not poor Ludovico have been the subject which Hare managed "on his own hook" unknown to Burke? Like the others, he would be mourned, but it would be far away in some little hamlet among the Apennines.

[11] A subscription was raised for Gray. He had saved the lives of probably a score of men and women; but so poorly was he remunerated, that he did not get a pound a head for these _lives_, or a tenth of that got by Burke for his _bodies_.

[12] The fury against the doctors ran so high not only in Edinburgh, but in Dumfries, that they were exposed to the risk of the fate they experienced under Cato the Censor:--"Romani quondam, sub Catone Censorio, medicos omnes et urbe tota et tota Italia pepulerunt eorum funesta mendacia crudelitatemque aversati."--_Agrippa de Van. Scien._ cap. 83.

See, too, Montaigne:--"Les Romains avaient este six cens ans avant que de recevoir la medecine; mais apres l'avoir essayee, ils la cha.s.serent de leur ville par entremise de Caton le Censeur." This proscription of doctors lasted to the time of the first emperors; but even if they had been tolerated, the national reverence for the dead would have been an effectual bar to such practices as Scotland groaned under for centuries.

We are not left to wonder how they contrived to keep the body right in these ancient times, for we know that Cato purged his household; and Horace lets us up to the knowledge the old women had of simples.

[13] The allusion is to Knox. His house was afterwards surrounded by a furious mob, who smashed his windows, and he was obliged to secrete himself for a time.

[14] The entire Parliament Square rang as by the echoes of a jubilee.

[15] The story that the cancerous affection arose from the saliva of Daft Jamie, communicated by a bite, was resolutely held to by the people.

[16] "He struggled a good deal," says an eye-witness, who was very near, "and put out his legs as if to catch something with his feet; but some of the undertaker's men, who were below the drop, took him by the feet, and sent him spinning round,--a motion which was continued until he was drawn up above the level of the scaffold."

[17] An eye-witness, whose notes we have, says, "He (Burke) was one of the most symmetrical men I ever saw, finely-developed muscles, and finely-formed, of the athlete cla.s.s."

[18] "After this exhibition," says an eye-witness, "Burke was cut up and put in pickle for the lecture-table. He was cut up in quarters, or rather portions, and salted, and, with a strange aptness of poetical justice, put into barrels. At that time an early acquaintance and school-fellow was a.s.sistant to the professor, and with him I frequently visited the dissecting-room, when calling on him at his apartments at the College. He is now a physician in the Ca.r.s.e of Gowrie. He shewed me Burke's remains, and gave me the skin of his _neck_ and of the right arm. These I had _tanned_--the neck brown, and the arm white. The white was as pure as white kid, but as thick as white sheepskin; and the brown was like brown tanned sheepskin. It was curious that the mark of the rope remained on the leather after being tanned. Of that neck-leather I had a tobacco-doss made; and on the white leather of the right arm I got Johnston to print the portraits of Burke and his wife, and Hare, which I gave to the noted antiquarian and collector of curiosities, Mr Fraser, jeweller, and it was in one of his cases for many years--may be still, if he is alive."

[19] The portraits of Burke and M'Dougal were got by the artist's having been introduced into the judges' private room, behind the bench. To complete the group, Mr Johnston, the engraver, managed through the governor to get an artist into the pa.s.sage between the airing-grounds, when Hare was taking his walk. Hare saw the party sketching, came right up to the iron grating, and stood like a soldier at attention, until the sketch was completed. He then said, "Now, sir, peetch me a shilling for that."

[20] For much of what follows of Hare's flight we are indebted to the pencil-pen of Mr M'Diarmid of the _Dumfries Courier_.