alt="Deacon Brodie’s Dark Lanthorn and False Keys. (From the originals in the Museum of The Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.)"/> Deacon Brodie’s Dark Lanthorn and False Keys. (From the originals in the Museum of The Society of Antiquaries of Scotland.)
kept”—together with “a black case, with a lid to it, the case full of potty,” with which it had been the Deacon’s amiable habit to take impressions of his friends’ door keys, and of which Smith remarked that he “approved of Brodie keeping the potty in a case, as the lid prevented an impression of a key, when taken, from being defaced.” On a subsequent occasion, Smith conducted the sheriff-officers to the foot of Warriston’s Close, where the iron crow—“Little Samuel”—the “toupee tongs,” and the false key for the Excise Office door were discovered hidden “in an old dyke.” The Deacon’s dark lantern and twenty-five false keys were, on 13th December, 1841, presented by the then Clerk of Justiciary to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, in whose museum they still remain.
On Tuesday, 11th March, George Williamson, King’s Messenger for Scotland, was deputed to search for the missing Deacon. He tried several of Brodie’s haunts in Edinburgh and Leith—even examining the enclosed tombs in Greyfriars Churchyard, which had more than once sheltered living offenders against the law—but without success. Prosecuting his inquiries along the London Road, Williamson first got scent of his quarry at Dunbar, which the fugitive had left at four o’clock on the Sunday afternoon in a post-chaise, and afterwards traced him to Newcastle, where he had taken the “Flying Mercury” light coach for York and London. From the coachman of that vehicle Williamson learned that Deacon Brodie had left the coach at the foot of Old Street, Moorfields, instead of proceeding to the “Bull and Mouth,” where the coach stopped, and there all trace of him was lost. His pursuer repaired to the billiard tables, hazard tables, cock-pits, tennis courts, and other likely places, without hearing anything of him, and pushed his inquiries as far as Margate, Deal, and Dover, with the like result. Finally, after eighteen days’ fruitless search, the King’s Messenger was compelled to return to Edinburgh and confess himself at fault.
We must now, in our turn, set forth in search of Mr. Brodie; and as to his doings after leaving Edinburgh we have the evidence of his own letter to Michael Henderson. He writes—“Were I to write you all that has happened to me, and the hair-breadth escapes I made from a well-scented pack of bloodhounds, it would make a small volume. I arrived in London on Wednesday, 12th March, where I remained snug and safe in the house of an old female friend until Sunday, 23rd March (whose care for me I shall never forget, and only wish I may ever have it in my power to reward her sufficiently), within five hundred yards of Bow Street. I did not keep the house all this time, but so altered, excepting the scar under my eye, I think you could not have rapt [swore] to me. I saw Mr. Williamson twice; but although countrymen commonly shake hands when they meet from home, yet I did not choose to make so free with him notwithstanding he brought a letter to me. He is a clever man, and I give him credit for his conduct. My female gave me great uneasiness by introducing a flash man to me, but she assured me he was a true man, and he proved himself so, notwithstanding the great reward, and was useful to me. I saw my picture [his description in the newspapers] six hours before, exhibited to public view, and my intelligence of what was doing at Bow Street Office was as good as ever I had in Edinburgh. I make no doubt but that designing villain Brown is now in high favour with Mr. Cockburn [the Sheriff], for I can see some strokes of his pencil in my portrait. May God forgive him for all his crimes and falsehoods.” It is evident that the impartial terms of this description were unpalatable to its subject.
The scar to which the Deacon here alludes was a souvenir of his membership of the club in the Fleshmarket Close, and the occasion of his receiving it is thus referred to in the answers of Hamilton, the master sweep, in the process before mentioned—“Mr. Brodie, in all his innocent amusements, never met with any person who, after having been fleeced of money to the amount of a hundred pounds, and detected of the vile and dishonest methods by which it had been abstracted from him, received, as a return for his moral rectitude, a very handsome incision on the eye—never he, indeed! He never was in such company, nor ever met with such an accident—not he!” This scar may be observed in the portraits of the Deacon by Kay.
Deacon Brodie had brought with him to London an introduction from his cousin to Mr. William Walker, attorney in the Adelphi, who busied himself in the fugitive’s affairs, lent him twelve guineas, and arranged to have him shipped safely off to the Continent so soon as the coast was sufficiently clear.
On Sunday, 23rd March, that “constant trader,” the sloop “Endeavour,” of Carron, John Dent, master, bound for the port of Leith, lay at her anchor at Blackwall. About twelve o’clock that night the captain, who had gone ashore, came aboard with the owners, Messrs. Hamilton and Pinkerton, and an elderly gentleman, apparently in feeble health. After a short conversation the owners left the ship; the passenger, who had been “allotted a bed in the state-room near the fire, as he was sick,” withdrew to the privacy of his cabin; and the “Endeavour” began her voyage. Off Tilbury Point, however, she went aground, and did not clear the Thames for a fortnight. No one seems to have thought this misadventure at all remarkable, and such incidents were doubtless common enough in those spacious days, when time, generally speaking, was no object.
The only other passengers on board were John Geddes, a tobacconist in Mid-Calder, and his wife, who were returning to Leith after a visit to the metropolis. The leisurely methods of the “Endeavour” afforded ample opportunity for cultivating the acquaintance of their fellow-passenger, whose name they found was Mr. John Dixon. They passed the time agreeably together, and Mr. Dixon on one occasion entertained his fellow-voyagers to dinner at a neighbouring village, though for the most part, while the vessel was aground, he remained on board.
At length, having been successfully refloated, the “Endeavour” resumed her interrupted voyage. No sooner, however, were they well out at sea than Mr. John Dixon produced and handed to Captain Dent sealed orders from the owners, wherein he was instructed to make sail for Ostend, where Mr. Dixon was to be landed, before proceeding to Leith, and the vessel was accordingly headed for the coast of Flanders. Owing to thick weather and cross winds, she failed to make that port, and finally put in to Flushing. Even this fresh delay appears in no way to have disturbed the equanimity of the easy-going Geddeses; and, having arrived on the 8th of April at their unlooked-for destination, they improved the occasion by making some purchases of contraband goods as a memento of their visit. Mr. John Dixon, meanwhile, before leaving the ship, wrote three letters—which he entrusted to the care of Geddes for delivery on his arrival in Edinburgh—directed respectively to Michael Henderson, stabler in the Grassmarket; Mrs. Anne Grant, Cant’s Close; and Mr. Matthew Sheriff, upholsterer in Edinburgh. Having taken a cordial farewell of each other, Mr. Dixon and Geddes parted company, the former—in whom the astute reader has ere now discerned the perfidious Deacon—setting out for Ostend in a skiff, and the latter resuming his protracted voyage.
When the “Endeavour” eventually arrived at Leith, where her non-appearance had caused considerable anxiety, Geddes, on perusing the newspapers, saw the Deacon’s description; but, though satisfied that the letters he carried were written by the notorious William Brodie, for three weeks after making the discovery he did nothing further in the matter. Perhaps a dilatory habit had been induced by his late experiences, or his conscience may have required some persuasion. Having at last decided to open the letters, he showed them to various persons, and subsequently delivered them over to the Sheriff. In taking this course, Geddes was probably actuated less by a sense of duty to his country than by a desire to secure the reward. If so, it is satisfactory to find that he did not receive it. The authorities had now, through the Deacon’s singular imprudence, obtained the necessary clue to his whereabouts, and no time was lost in following it up.
What were the contents of the letter to Anne Grant we have now no means of knowing, for that document was not produced at the trial, but the other two letters will be found at length in the following report. In all the contemporary accounts of the trial the names of persons referred to by Deacon Brodie in his letters were, for obvious reasons, omitted.
