The Man Who Was Jekyll and Hyde (19 page)

Was that enough to incriminate him? Not if the letters’ content appeared to be entirely innocent, but one or two mistakes had been made, and one of them was to prove literally fatal. To recap, a Dixon-signed letter from Flushing to his brother-in-law Matthew Sheriff had this message scrawled on the back: ‘Let my name and destination be a profound secret for fear of bad consequences’ … which did not look so innocent. But the comment in another note (to ‘my dear Sir’) that truly sealed his fate was in reference to his fellow gang members: ‘Whatever these men may say, I had no [
‘direct’ – excised
] hand in any of their depredations, excepting the last, which I shall ever repent …’

‘Excepting the last’! This tacit admission of guilt would have any legal eagle swooping down on it as if on a trembling creature of prey. It looked as if Brodie had hung himself with his own words, and the prosecution merely had to tighten the rope.

But to return to the North Sea drama for a moment, let’s look at the court-told stories of the initial letter-holders, the London solicitor Longlands and Brodie’s reluctant shipmate, John Geddes:

Thomas Longlands
: In June or July last I was employed by the officers of the Crown for Scotland to take such steps as appeared to me proper for the discovery of Mr Brodie. In consequence of this employment I called frequently at the Secretary of State’s Office, and had several conversations with Mr Fraser, Under-Secretary in the office of Lord Carmarthen, and gave them the information I had received from Scotland.

I likewise waited upon Sir Sampson Wright, of the Public Office, Bow Street, whose assistance I judged necessary to call in as to the proper measures to be pursued. As the information received gave reason to suspect that Mr Brodie was at Flushing, Ostend, or some place in Holland, it was agreed upon to send a messenger immediately in search of him. Sir Sampson Wright recommended to me a Mr Groves from his office as a proper person to send to the Continent in search of Mr Brodie, and I accordingly despatched him with proper instructions.

Mr Groves traced Mr Brodie to Ostend, and learned that he had been there upon the 4th of June, His Majesty’s birthday, and he was afterwards traced to Amsterdam, where he was apprehended, identified, and committed to prison. Upon proper application, he was delivered up to Mr Groves, and was brought from thence to London by him. Immediately upon his arrival at London he was examined before Sir Sampson Wright, and committed to Tothilfields Bridewell; some time afterwards he was sent to this country. I was present at the examination of the person brought back from Amsterdam, and I know the prisoner at the bar to be him. There was a trunk containing linens and a variety of other articles, belonging to Mr Brodie, brought with him from Amsterdam; and I received from Mr Cartmeal, one of the persons who came along with him, two watches, twenty crowns, and some other articles, which he said were found upon Mr Brodie; and the watch now upon the table I know to be one of them, having taken particular notice of the maker’s name and number …

There was likewise another trunk belonging to Mr Brodie, which was sent over from Ostend by Sir John Potter, in consequence of a letter written to him in my presence by Mr Groves, after Brodie’s return to London. This trunk, upon its being brought to London, was opened by Sir Sampson Thomas Wright in my presence, and in the course of examining the contents of it I discovered a wrapper with some papers, which I opened, and some of the papers appearing to me to be important, I transmitted them to Lord Advocate. [
Shown the unsigned scrolls
]. Both Sir Sampson Wright and I put our initials to them, and I am sure that these are the same …

John Geddes
, tobacconist in Mid-Calder: I was in London in the month of March last, and my wife and I took our passage in the ‘Endeavour’, of Carron, Captain Dent, bound for Leith. We went on board on a Saturday, and the next day, Sunday, the vessel fell two or three miles down the river, and then we cast anchor at Blackwall. In the evening the master went ashore to get hands to man her, leaving me and my wife on board.

About twelve at night a passenger, who appeared sickly, came on board, in company with Mr Hamilton and Mr Pinkerton, two of the owners of the vessel, and another gentleman I did not know. These gentlemen remained about half an hour, and then all went ashore, except the passenger, who remained on board. He was dressed in a blue great-coat, with a red collar, round wig, black vest, breeches, and boots. He was allotted a bed in the state-room, near the fire, as he was sick. The next morning the vessel set sail, but afterwards ran aground opposite to Tilbury Point, where she remained about eight or ten days, and we did not get clear of the Thames for a fortnight. During all that time the passenger remained on board, except one day that he, along with the master of the vessel and my wife and I, went on shore, and dined at a neighbouring village, and another day that he went ashore by himself to get a bottle of milk.

For the first two or three days after the passenger came on board we called him ‘the gentleman’ as we did not know his name, but, upon my inquiring of him what his name was, he said it was John Dixon. [
Here Geddes identified Brodie as the man who called himself Dixon, as well as the letters that he had received from the prisoner and delivered to the sheriff. The key issue now became recognition – or not – of their handwriting and authenticity.
]

Robert Smith
, wright in Edinburgh: I was some time ago foreman to the accused, Mr Brodie, and I remember to have been sent for by him upon the Sunday morning, the 9th of March, at eight o’clock, after it was reported that the Excise Office had been broke into. The message was not particular, but such a one as I usually received from him when he wanted to give me orders about some work, as he frequently sent for me for that purpose, especially if he was going to the country. When I came to him he asked me if there were any news about the people who had broke into the Excise. I answered that I had been informed that George Smith was committed to prison, and that Brown had been sent into England in search of Inglis & Homer’s goods. I added that I hoped he, Mr Brodie, had no concern in these depredations; but he returned to me no answer.

The reason I asked this question was that I had often seen my master in their company, and knew him to be intimate with them. Mr Brodie told me he was going out of town for a few days, and sent me a message for a waistcoat and pair of breeches; but before my return he was gone, and I did not see him again till after he was brought back to this country. On the Monday evening following, the 10th of March, a search was made for him, and several doors of his house were broken open, in virtue of a warrant from the Sheriff, as I was informed. [
Here Smith was shown two letters referred to in the indictment, and asked if they were in Brodie’s handwriting.
] I have seen the handwriting of Mr Brodie, and I think the writing of these letters very like his, but I never saw Mr Brodie subscribe with initials; and as I am no judge of writing, I cannot say whether I believe these letters to be written by Mr Brodie or not …

James Laing
, writer in Edinburgh: I am assistant clerk in the Council Chamber. I know Mr Brodie, the prisoner at the bar. I have seen him write, and I am a little acquainted with his handwriting. [
Here the two letters were shown.
] The writing of these letters is very like Mr Brodie’s handwriting. I think they have been wrote by him. [
Here the unsigned scrolls were shown.
] I think these are of Mr Brodie’s handwriting too, though worse written. [
State of affairs shown.
] I think this also is written by Mr Brodie.

John Macleish
, clerk to Hugh Buchan, City Chamberlain of Edinburgh: I know Mr Brodie, the prisoner at the bar, and have had some opportunity of knowing his handwriting. I have got receipts from him in the Chamberlain’s office, and have received cards from him. I have likewise seen him write in his own shop. [
Shown the two letters.
] I think these letters are of his handwriting. [
Shown the scrolls.
] I never saw Mr Brodie write in so crowded a way, or interline so much, but, notwithstanding, I think that these are of his handwriting.

Erskine – How do you come to know Mr Brodie’s writing so exactly?

Macleish – From many accounts and receipts, of his writing, which I have in my custody belonging to the office.

With his handwriting generally recognised – and that being particularly relevant to the slipped-out admission of guilt in the main charge before the court – there was no apparent escape route for William Brodie, a position confirmed by the Lord Advocate’s concluding, robust address to the jury.

After acknowledging that the letters Brodie gave to Geddes on board ship were ‘strong’ material, the Lord Advocate Islay Campbell said:

The other letters, or scrolls, found in his trunk are still stronger. You have had it clearly proven that all these letters are of his own handwriting, and in both of the scrolls he expressly acknowledges the crime for which he now stands at the bar. In one of them he says that he had no ‘direct’ concern in any of the late depredations of Smith, Brown, and Ainslie, excepting ‘the last fatal one’; in the other the word ‘direct’ is scored out, but in both he acknowledges his accession to the last act; by which he can mean no other than the robbery of the Excise Office; for it happened on the Wednesday evening, and Brown gave information of it on the Friday evening immediately after. It was, therefore, in all probability the last of the depredations of this dangerous combination; and Mr Brodie’s having applied the expression ‘fatal’ to it identifies it beyond all doubt …

I would, in the next place, gentlemen, have you to attend to the prisoner’s behaviour when he flies from this place to London. He secretes himself in London for several weeks; search is made for him, but he cannot be found; he admits in one of his letters that he knew that Mr Williamson was in search of him, but he did not choose an interview; a vessel is freighted for him by some persons, contrary to the duty they owed to their country; she is cleared out for Leith; he goes on board of her in the middle of the night, with a wig on, in disguise, and under a borrowed name; he is carried to Flushing; he changes his name to John Dixon, and writes letters to people in Edinburgh under that false signature, explaining his whole future operations, in consequence of which letters he is traced and apprehended, just when he is on the point of going on board of a ship for New York …

Gentlemen, I beg leave now to bring under your consideration what happened in this city after Mr Brodie absconded. You have it in evidence that his house was searched, and various articles of a very suspicious nature found. A pair of pistols, identified to have been used on the occasion of the robbery, is found under the earth, and the place where they were hid pointed out by the other prisoner Smith; also a dark lanthorn, the one half of it in one place and the other half of it in another. Gentlemen, if Mr Brodie is really innocent, it appears to me passing strange that these articles should have been so concealed.

All these circumstances, gentlemen, are established by the most unexceptionable evidence; they are connected with and corroborated by each other; and they all point to this conclusion, independent altogether of the direct evidence of Brown and Ainslie: that Mr Brodie is guilty of the crime charged. They cannot be accounted for upon any other supposition.

Brodie was surely done for at this moment, and there was a detectable expression of alarm in his until now remarkably calm visage. Did even he, convinced as he was of his own indestructability, see that the final dark curtain was coming down on his life?

And yet … there was to be one more a dramatic development in the defence case and it was to come from an unexpected quarter: Smith’s defence. Up to this point Brodie’s miserable co-accused had had not a word spoken to help him. No witnesses had been called on his behalf, although he had been given two young counsel, advocates Robert Hamilton and John Clerk.

Much to the surprise of everyone who thought the respected and clever Dean of Faculty Henry Erskine would pull a last-minute rabbit out of the hat to save Brodie’s skin, it was Clerk – a man with very little courtroom practice under his belt but with a lean and hungry look under the glasses he wore habitually on his brow – who would create a sensation in court and consequently give both the accused some new hope.

The most relevant witnesses at this juncture were those who saw the young John Clerk drink an entire bottle of claret with the object of putting himself, as he later phrased it, in ‘fighting form’. He also said later that the exchanges that were to follow had been ‘the making of me’ – and they certainly provided the controversial launch pad for a celebrated career at the bar for the man who was to become Lord Eldin.

At this moment, however, he was still a junior partner in the defence team who had been at the bar less than three years and, while this was the most important case in which he had been employed and his first appearance in the Justiciary Court, he was determined to make a name for himself.

His senior colleague had probably not been aware of that. On the assumption that Erskine’s plea on Brodie’s behalf would be the more powerful address to the jury and leave the more lasting impact, he and Clerk had decided between themselves that the supporting act (the latter on behalf of Smith) would take the stage first.

The remarkable energy with which the fiery young counsel conducted his client’s defence not only took Erskine aback but appalled all five judges on the bench, especially the broad-shouldered and broad-accented Lord Braxfield, who had never been spoken to like this in his life. Like what? Some exchanges between him and Clerk follow.

It has to be said, however, that although Clerk’s comments prompted unheard-of sympathetic reactions among the public in court, and although his style was refreshingly audacious and even outrageous, later reflections of distinguished legal brains would say it was probably counter-productive; that Smith’s cause (and incidentally Brodie’s) might have been better served by a more temperate approach; that in the end Clerk had been – in Braxfield’s words in the heat of battle – ‘talking nonsense’.