city. On the journey north, Williamson tells us, “Mr. Brodie was in good spirits, and told many things that had happened to him in Holland.” Among other items of interest, he mentioned that, while in Amsterdam, he had formed the acquaintance of a gentleman living in that city on the proceeds of a successful forgery committed upon the Bank of Scotland. Forgery was a branch of the learned professions which the Deacon had hitherto neglected, and he was receiving instruction from this obliging practitioner, when his studies were abruptly terminated by Mr. Daly’s call. “Brodie said he was a very ingenious fellow, and that, had
it not been for his own apprehension, he would have been master of the process in a week.” Before arriving in Edinburgh the Deacon, ever careful of his personal appearance, was anxious to obtain a shave—a luxury to which, in the turmoil of his affairs, the dapper gentleman had been for some days a stranger. Williamson, afraid to trust a razor to one so circumstanced, himself essayed the task. His intention must have been superior to his execution, for, when the operation was over, the patient remarked, “George, if you’re no better at your own business than at shaving, a person may employ you once, but I’ll be d——d if ever he does so again!”
On 17th July the Caledonian Mercury was able to announce to its readers—“This morning early Mr. Brodie arrived from London. He was immediately carried to the house of Mr. Sheriff Cockburn, at the back of the Meadows, or Hope Park, for examination. Mr. George Williamson, Messenger, and Mr. Groves, one of Sir Sampson Wright’s clerks, accompanied Mr. Brodie in a post-chaise from Tothilfields Bridewell. He was this forenoon committed to the Tolbooth. They were only fifty-four hours on the road.”
While their leader was enlarging his experience of life on the Continent, Smith and Ainslie had varied the monotony of existence in the Tolbooth by a vigorous attempt to regain their liberty. We read in the Scots Magazine for May, 1788, that “in the night between the 4th and 5th of May, George Smith, prisoner in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, accused of shop-breaking and theft, had the ingenuity to make his way from his own apartment to that of Andrew Ainslie, a supposed accomplice in the same crimes, though Ainslie’s room was situated two storeys above that occupied by Smith. This, it would appear, was achieved by his converting the iron handle of the jack or bucket of the necessary into a pick-lock, and one of the iron hoops round the bucket into a saw. By a dextrous use of these instruments Smith took off one door from the hinges, and opened the other which led to Ainslie’s apartment. They then both set to work, and cut a hole through the ceiling of Ainslie’s room, as well as through the roof of the prison itself. Luckily, however, the falling of the slates and lime into the street, between three and four o’clock in the morning, attracted the attention of the sentinel upon duty, who immediately gave the alarm, and the inner keeper had them soon after properly secured. In order to let themselves down from the top of the prison they had prepared 16 fathoms of rope, which they had artfully manufactured out of the sheets of their beds.”
This daring and ingenious bid for freedom deserved a better fate, and it is a testimony to Smith’s skill that he was able to achieve so much by means so grotesquely inadequate. Little wonder that, with liberty and his tools, he was a competent and successful practitioner.
Mr. Brown, that unamiable informer, was, strangely enough, also at this time an inmate of the Tolbooth. The Edinburgh Magazine for the same month gives an account of his arrest, along with George White, tanner, and William Peacock, flesher, charged with being concerned in the murder of James M‘Arthur, change-keeper in Halkerston’s Wynd, during a quarrel in the latter’s house—“alleged not to be one of very good repute”—in which M‘Arthur was fatally assaulted with a bottle. The consequences of this regrettable incident were, so far as Brown was concerned, averted by the pardon aftermentioned. White, however, was brought to trial and found guilty of culpable homicide.
The law officers of the Crown were now busily preparing their case against Brodie, Smith, and Ainslie; and as, apart from the testimony to be borne by Brown, there was no direct evidence of the commission of the crime available, it was decided to accept Ainslie as King’s evidence, and proceed only against Brodie and Smith upon the charge of breaking into and robbing the General Excise Office for Scotland. Accordingly, on 19th July, an indictment was served upon them, the trial being fixed to take place on 4th August. Owing, however, to some additional evidence having come to the knowledge of the Public Prosecutor, on 11th August, a new indictment had to be served, and the trial postponed until the 27th of that month.
Meanwhile, on 28th July, His Majesty’s most gracious pardon had been obtained for John Brown alias Humphry Moore, which, in law, rendered that miscreant, as a witness, “habile and testable,” notwithstanding the baseness of his character and his infamous record.
Deacon Brodie had, since his apprehension, been kept in close confinement in the Tolbooth. He was carefully watched day and night by two soldiers of the City Guard, and was not allowed either knife or fork with which to eat his victuals in case of dangerous consequences. On account of this inconvenient restriction, the Deacon, shortly before his trial, addressed the following remonstrance to a brother member of the Town Council and one of the magistrates of the city:—
“Edinburgh, 17th August, 1788.
“Dear Sir,
“The nails of my toes and fingers are not quite so long as Nebuchadnezzar’s are said to have been, although long enough for a Mandarine, and much longer than I find convenient. I have tried several experiments to remove this evil without effect, which no doubt you’ll think says little for your Ward’s ingenuity; and I have the mortification to perceive the evil daily increasing.
“Dear Sir, as I intend seeing company abroad in a few days, I beg as soon as convenient you’ll take this matter under consideration, and only, if necessary, consult my Guardian and Tutor sine qua non; and I doubt not but you’ll devise some safe and easy method of operation that may give me a temporary relief. Perhaps the faculty may prescribe a more radical cure.
“Dear Sir, if not disagreeable to you, I’ll be happy to see you. You’ll be sure to find me at home, and all hours are equally convenient.
“Believe me to be, with great esteem,
“Your most affectionate Ward, and very humble servant,
“Will. Brodie.
“To Don. Smith Esq.
“Edinburgh.”
This curious instance of a sense of humour retained in the most unfavourable circumstances throws an interesting sidelight on the Deacon’s character.
On the Friday before the trial Smith, who appears to have abandoned all hope of an acquittal, wrote a letter to the Board of Excise, saying “that he was not to give them any trouble, for he would plead Guilty.” He also prepared a written statement, which it was his intention to have read to the Court, but he was dissuaded from this course by his agent, Mr. Morrison, and finally decided to take his chance and plead not guilty. In this remarkable document—a copy of which is contained in the Appendix—Smith gives, inter alia, the following list of “such robberies as my accomplices and myself had determined to commit, had we not been timeously prevented:—
“1. On Dalgleish & Dickie, watchmakers.
2. On White & Mitchell, lottery-office keepers.
3. On a rich baker near Brodie’s Close—the name forgot.
4.
