The Man Who Was Jekyll and Hyde (18 page)

John Brown:
I have met Brodie often at Smith’s house and other places. I know that the General Excise Office in Chessels’s Buildings was broken into upon Wednesday, the 5th of March last; I was myself one of them that broke into it, and Andrew Ainslie and the two prisoners were along with me. George Smith and I were within the office, Brodie was at the door, and Andrew Ainslie was without, keeping watch. We had resolved three months before to break into it; and on the 30th of November last, the night on which the Free Masons made a public procession last winter. Smith, Ainslie, and I went to the Excise Office and unlocked the outer door with a false key. We went in together, and opened the inner door to the hall with a pair of toupee irons, but none of the keys we had would open the cashier’s door. Smith said a coulter would be a good thing to open it with. Thinking it too late to remain longer, we came out again; but we could not lock the outer door with the key, and therefore left it unlocked. Last spring Ainslie and I went to Duddingston, and drank a bottle of porter in a house there; afterwards we went into a field in the neighbourhood, in which there were two ploughs, and carried off the coulter of one of them, which we hid in Salisbury Crags.

On the evening of the 5th of March last, which was two or three days afterwards, when it was about dusk, Ainslie and I went out to Salisbury Crags for the coulter, and brought it in with us to Smith’s house. Smith was at home, but Brodie was not yet come, although we expected him. The hour at which we had agreed to meet was seven, but he did not come until near eight. The purpose of our meeting was to go and rob the Excise Office that night. We were in Smith’s room above-stairs when Brodie joined us, and we there drank some gin and Black Cork, and ate some herrings and chicken. By Black Cork I mean Bell’s beer. Mr Brodie was then dressed in black; in the preceding part of the day I saw him in white or light-coloured clothes. I do not remember that he had a great-coat on when he came to us at Smith’s in the evening. When he entered the room he took a pistol from his pocket, and repeated the verse of a song of Macheath’s from a play, words like – ‘We’ll turn our lead into gold’ or such like.

After we were all met together, it was agreed upon that Ainslie should remain on the outside of the Excise Office, within the rails, with a whistle, to give the alarm in case of danger; that Brodie was to be stationed within the outer door for the same purpose; and that Smith and I should go into the cashier’s room. Accordingly, Ainslie left Smith’s first, and in some time after I followed. Brodie was not disguised but Smith and I had crapes in our pocket, and Smith had likewise a wig, which, I believe, had once belonged to Brodie’s father. When I came to the mouth of the entry to Chessels’s Buildings, I met the old man who usually locked the door coming out, and went after him and saw him go home. My reason for so doing was to see that he had not gone on an errand and to return. When I came back to the court I met Brodie in the entry, who told me that Smith had gone into the office, and desired me to go in. I went down the close with him, saw Ainslie at his post, and received the coulter, or ‘Great Samuel’, from him, and carried it in with me to the office. I found the outer door open and Smith in the hall. The outer door of the cashier’s room was opened by Smith with a pair of curling irons, and I assisted him to force open the inner door of the cashier’s room with the coulter and a small iron crow.

After we got in, Smith, who had a dark lanthorn with him, opened every press and desk in the room where he suspected there was any money; some by violence and others with keys which we found in the room. We continued there about half-an-hour, and found about sixteen pounds of money in a desk in the cashier’s room, which we carried away with us. It consisted of two five-pound notes, six guinea notes, and some silver. We heard some person come upstairs, and cocked our pistols, which were loaded with powder and ball. Smith said he supposed it was some of the clerks going into one of the rooms. We heard no whistle while we were in the office. When we came downstairs, Brodie and Ainslie were both gone. We left the outer door of the Excise Office unlocked, and carried the key away with us. We then came up to the Canongate, and went across it, and down another street a little below – Young’s Street. I stopped in the middle of the last street, pulled off my great-coat and gave it to Smith. I then returned, went down to the Excise Office door, where everything seemed to be quiet; afterwards I went to Smith’s house, where in a little I was joined by Smith, and soon afterwards by Ainslie. I did not remain there long, when Smith recommended it to me and Ainslie to go over to Fraser’s house in the New Town, that we might avoid suspicion; and we went accordingly. I knew at the time that Smith was making a key for the outer door of the Excise Office. [
Here the witness was shown a key.
]

That is the key he so made, and with which he opened the door. We had three pair of pistols along with us, all of which were previously loaded by Smith with powder and ball.

[
Here the said pistols were shown to the witness.
] These are a pair of them, but whether that pair was carried to the Excise Office by Smith or me I cannot say. I saw Mr Brodie have a pistol in his hand in Smith’s house. When Brodie came to Smith’s first that night he brought with him some small keys, and a double pick-lock, which we all looked at. [
Here the pick-lock libelled on was shown.
]

This is the same that was used on that occasion. On Friday, the 7th of March, I was sent for to Smith’s house. Brodie, Smith, and Ainslie were there, and the money which we got in the Excise Office was then equally divided between us. I got about four pounds from Brodie to my share. I saw all the money in Smith’s room above-stairs before it was divided, and there were two five-pound bank-notes amongst it. On the same Friday evening, I went with Smith and Ainslie to Drysdale’s, in the New Town, and saw Smith change one of the five-pound notes there, when purchasing a ticket for his wife in the mail-coach to Newcastle. I went to William Middleton on Friday night, the 7th of March last, and told him that I wished to make a discovery as to the late robberies; he carried me the same night to Mr Scott, the Procurator-Fiscal, but I did not at that time mention anything of Brodie’s concern in them. The next day I was sent to England to trace some goods taken from Inglis & Horner’s shop. I returned on the 15th of March, and was the same day examined by the Sheriff. I was informed that Smith had emitted a declaration, informing of Brodie’s guilt, in consequence of which he (Brodie) had absconded, and then for the first time I mentioned that Mr Brodie had been concerned with us.

Ainslie informed Smith and me that he had seen two men come up the close before he quitted his post at the Excise Office and went away. Smith carried the money that was found in the Excise Office away with him, and he afterwards gave it to Brodie, who made a fair division of it on the Friday. On the Thursday I did not see him.

Now, after so many name-checks, it wasn’t, on the face of it, looking good for Brodie. But he still appeared relatively optimistic, hoping no doubt that the jury would see the gang ‘witnesses’ as just two rascals motivated to save themselves by defaming him. And in any case, he had always intended to mount a defence of alibi, so was keen to see those set to provide his required cover welcomed to the stand.

Brodie’s first alibi-provider was his brother-in-law, the upholsterer Matthew Sheriff, and for that reason – their close relationship – little notice was taken of his story. Indeed, in his later address to the jury the Lord Advocate Ilay Campbell could not hide his suspicions:

This gentleman depones that he dined with Mr Brodie on Wednesday, the 5th of March, and that he was in company with him until eight o’clock that night …

There was another gentleman, he tells you, who dined in company with the accused that day; and what appears to me to be a very odd circumstance, this gentleman is not called as a witness; nay, more, although Mr Sheriff recollects a great variety of other circumstances, he does not remember this gentleman’s name. Why is this gentleman not brought forward on this occasion? Why are not some of the servants of the house, or any other person, called to support Mr Sheriff’s testimony? Mr Sheriff, then, is only a single witness, and from his near connection with the accused, he gives his evidence under circumstances that are suspicious, and therefore no weight can be allowed to it.

Would Brodie’s mistress, her one-time servant and a neighbour at Libberton’s Wynd be of more value to him? Jean Watt took the stand:

Jean Watt
: I am well acquainted with the prisoner, William Brodie. I remember that on Wednesday, the 5th of March last, he came to my house just at the time the eight o’clock bell was ringing, and he remained in it all night, and was not out from the time he came in until a little before nine o’clock next morning. We went early to bed, about ten o’clock, as Mr Brodie complained that night of being much indisposed with a sore throat.

On the following Monday I heard that Mr Brodie was suspected of being concerned in the breaking into the Excise Office; that his house had been searched for him; and that he had gone away on the Sunday. This made me particularly recollect, and also because it was the last night Mr Brodie slept in my house. He slept with me that night. I have a family of children to him. I saw him again on the Saturday night afterwards, but not till then; and he was in my house in the forenoon of the Tuesday preceding.

Peggy Giles
: I was servant to Mrs Watt, the preceding witness, last winter, and I remember that the prisoner, Mr Brodie, came to my mistress’s house about eight o’clock at night of Wednesday, the 5th of March last, and that he slept there all night, and remained until about nine o’clock next morning. My mistress and Mr Brodie supped together early, about half-an-hour after eight o’clock, on bread and beer and a piece of cheese, for which I was sent out soon after Mr Brodie came in. I was out about ten minutes, and when I returned Mr Brodie was still in the house. I remember when he came in to have heard the eight o’clock bell ringing …

He was in bed when I arose in the morning, and I gave him water to wash his hands before he went out.

Helen Alison
, wife of mason William Wallace: I reside in Libberton’s Wynd, and I know the prisoner, Mr Brodie. I heard of his leaving Edinburgh in March last, and I remember to have seen him come down Jean Watt’s stair a little before nine o’clock on the morning of the Thursday before he went off – the 6th of March. I was then standing at my own door at the foot of the stair; and I had Francis Brodie, the prisoner’s son, a boy of about seven years of age, by the hand. As his father, Mr Brodie, passed he put a halfpenny into the child’s hand, and clapped him on the head. I said to the boy, ‘Poor thing, thou hast been too soon out, or you would have seen your daddy at home’; he said, ‘No, I have not been too soon out, for my daddy has been in the house all night.’ After my husband got his breakfast, I went upstairs to Mrs Watt, and I said to her in a joking way, ‘You will be in good humour today, as the good man has been with you all night.’ She answered, ‘He has; but, poor man, he has not been well of a sore throat.’

On the Monday following, I heard that there were messengers upstairs in Mrs Watt’s, searching her house for Mr Brodie; and when I went up and was told what was the matter, I said to a sheriff-officer, then present, ‘Dear sirs, who would have thought this would have happened, when I saw Mr Brodie come downstairs and give a bawbee to his own son on Thursday last?’ To which the man answered, ‘Indeed, few would have thought it.’

The Lord Advocate seemed equally unimpressed with these testimonies and later told the jury:

Jean Watt said she did not see Brodie from the Thursday morning, at nine o’clock, till the Saturday afternoon following, yet her maid said that he was twice in the house on the Thursday, in the forenoon and afternoon; though Sheriff said that Brodie was in his house on the Thursday from three o’clock in the afternoon till eleven o’clock at night. They can give no reason for fixing the night of his visit at Watt’s house to be Wednesday night, except the subsequent flight of the prisoner; and therefore it may have been any other night in that week as well as the one condescended upon.

But, gentlemen, I have no occasion to dispute, and indeed, from the evidence of Helen Alison, I am inclined to believe that the prisoner went on the Wednesday night to Mrs Watt’s house, and slept there that night; but I have heard nothing, allowing all the witnesses to have spoken what they believed to be true, to prove that he went there until after the crime was committed. Gentlemen, the circumstance which fixes the hour in the memory of both Mrs Watt and her servant is the ringing of a bell, and we all know that there is a bell that rings at ten o’clock as well as at eight. And it is very far from being improbable that they might both mistake the one bell for the other, either at the time, or afterwards, upon endeavouring to recollect the hour at which Brodie came to them. Allowing, therefore, that all the witnesses adduced by the prisoner are to be believed, there appears to be nothing in their testimony contradictory to the evidence of the prisoner’s accession to the crime charged …

Where to now? There was the matter of the letters sent from Holland. Would they help or hinder Brodie’s chance of survival?

While he was on the run and preparing to ship himself off to New York, William Brodie – clearly beginning to feel isolated and in need of some normal discourse – wrote several letters to friends and relatives. Three of them, mainly on domestic and professional concerns (page 110), were given for delivery to fellow-Scot John Geddes (see previous chapter), with whom he shared the frustrating voyage from London to the Netherlands, while others were found in his trunk after his arrest. He had adopted the name John Dixon and none was properly signed as Brodie, so technically could not be attributed to him, but his handwriting on the scrolls that were shown in court was recognised by several witnesses to whom the style was familiar.