DEACON BRODIE
JK GILLON

DEACON BRODIE

William Brodie was born into a respectable Edinburgh family in 1741, and rose to become Deacon of the Guild of Wrights on the Edinburgh Council and a freeman of the city. However, this seemingly respectable facade concealed a private life, which included two mistresses with five children between them and a predilection for gambling, which put him under considerable financial pressure. This he relieved by carrying out a series of robberies on premises to which his official position had given him access. He was eventually arrested and hanged on a gallows of his own design in 1788.  His double life is said to have contributed to Robert Louis Stevenson's inspiration for the story of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

THE EDINBURGH TOLBOOTH

One of the most remarkable criminals ever confined in  Edinburgh's Old Tolbooth prison was the noted William Brodie. This was a man of respectable connections, and who had moved in good society all his life, unsuspected of any criminal pursuits. It is said that a habit of frequenting cock-pits was the first symptom he exhibited of a decline from rectitude. His ingenuity as a mechanic gave him a fatal facility in the burglarious pursuits to which he afterwards addicted himself. It was then customary for the shopkeepers of Edinburgh to hang their keys upon a nail at the back of their doors, or at least to take no pains in concealing them during the day. Brodie used to take impressions of them in putty or clay, a piece of which he would carry in the palm of his hand. He kept a blacksmith in his pay, who forged exact copies of the keys he wanted, and with these it was his custom to open the shops of his fellow-tradesmen during the night. He thus found opportunities of securely stealing whatever he wished to possess. He carried on his malpractices for many years, and never was suspected, till, having committed a daring robbery upon the Excise Office in Chessels's Court, Canongate, some circumstances transpired which induced him to disappear from Edinburgh. Suspicion then becoming strong, he was pursued to Holland, and taken at Amsterdam, standing upright in a press or cupboard.

At his trial, Henry Erskine, his counsel, spoke very eloquently in his behalf, representing, in particular, to the jury how strange and improbable a circumstance it was that a man whom they had themselves known from infancy as a person of good repute should have been guilty of such practices as those with which he was charged.  He was, however, found guilty, and sentenced to death, along with his accomplice Smith.  At the trial be had appeared in a full-dress suit of black clothes, the greater part of which was of silk, and his deportment throughout the affair was composed  and gentlemanlike. He continued during the period which intervened between his sentence and execution to dress well and keep up his spirits. A gentleman of his acquaintance, calling upon him in the condemned room, was surprised to find him singing the song from the Beggars' Opera, ``Tis woman seduces all mankind.' Having contrived to cut out the figure of a draughtboard on the stone floor of his dungeon, he amused himself by playing with any one who would join him, and, in default of such, with his right hand against his left. This diagram remained in the room where it was so strangely out of place till the destruction of the jail. His dress and deportment at the gallows (October 1, 1788) displayed a mind at ease, and gave some countenance to the popular notion that he had made certain mechanical arrangements for saving his life.

EXECUTION OF DEACON BRODIE

Brodie was the first who proved the excellence of an improvement he had formerly made on the apparatus of the gibbet. This was the substitution of what is called the drop for the ancient practice of the double ladder. He inspected the thing with a professional air, and seemed to view the result of his ingenuity with a smile of satisfaction. When placed on that insecure pedestal, and while the rope was adjusted round his neck by the executioner, his courage did not forsake him. On the contrary, even there he exhibited a sort of levity; he shuffled about, looked gaily around, and finally went out of the world with his hand stuck carelessly into the open front of his vest.
(Extract from Traditions of Edinburgh, Robert Chambers)



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