CHAPTER XXXII.

_Popular Feeling against Hare--His Behaviour in Prison--Withdrawal of the Warrant--His Liberation and Flight--Recognition--Riot in Dumfries, and Narrow Escape of Hare--Over the Border--Ballad Version of the Flight._

The warrant _in meditatione fugæ_ by the relatives of James Wilson against Hare was withdrawn quietly on the afternoon of Thursday, the 5th of February, and the authorities at once made arrangements for his liberation. They knew that to place him outside the prison gates and allow him to shift for himself would only be to endanger his life at the hands of the excited mob of Edinburgh, who would, under the high feeling then prevailing, have scrupled little about hanging the detested criminal and informer from the bar of the nearest lamp-post, or to have thrown him from the Castle-hill. Hare knew the feeling that was against him, but he affected to treat it with scorn. Even while the proceedings were being taken against him, and it was doubtful if he would not be put upon trial, which would have meant certain conviction, he displayed a levity altogether unbecoming a man in the critical position in which he stood. He asked his agent, with a sneer, what was the value of Daft Jamie, and remarked that the price given by the doctors was surely too much, as if the poor lad been offered alive to any one he would not have been bought at any price. His opinion of the proceedings, therefore, was that the judges were wasting their time and their talent about a thing of no value. On another occasion Hare and several fellow-prisoners were walking in the court-yard when some visitors were being shown through the establishment. One of his companions turned to the strangers, and, pointing with his finger to the notorious criminal, said, "Here's Hare; look at him!" The eyes of the party were immediately turned upon the man whose crimes had made him so infamous, but he, with brutal nonchalance, stared them out of countenance, and remarked, "Pitch a shilling this way, will ye?"

It was but natural that in the state of public feeling the decision of the High Court of Justiciary in Hare's petition should cause dissatisfaction in many quarters; and the fact that two of the judges took a different view of the law from the majority of their colleagues, only tended to prolong the controversy. Many were the bitter comments made on the case, but none was more forcible than the remark that the judges came to decide on the case drunk with law, and kicked sober justice out of court. Clever although this statement was, and partially true, it involved a fallacy which was admitted after the excitement occasioned by the disclosures of the conspiracy had spent itself.

But notwithstanding this feeling on the part of the public, the law had to be carried out, and Hare had to be set at liberty. The prison officials took an outside place for him, under the appropriate name of Mr. Black, on the coach for England; and shortly after eight o'clock on the night of Thursday, the 5th of February, Hare left Caltonhill Jail. To prevent identification he was muffled up in an old camelot cloak; and in his hand he carried a small bundle of clothes. Accompanying him was John Fisher, the head turnkey, who was charged to see him safe out of Edinburgh. At Waterloo Bridge they called a hackney coach, and in it drove to Newington, where they waited the arrival of the mail. When the coach came up it was stopped, and Hare took his place on the outside. As the guard called out to the driver, "All's right," the turnkey shouted out a cordial farewell to his _quasi_ friend--"Good bye, Mr. Black, and I wish you well home." Away the coach went, and Hare was free and out of Edinburgh without it being known to any but the prison officials that he was even at liberty. What a tumult there would have been had the people suspected that the man for whose death they clamoured was posting from them! Had they even had an inkling of what was going on it is problematical if he would have been allowed to leave the city without marks of their vengeance which he would have borne to his dying day, possibly he would have been torn to pieces.

However, the plans of the authorities had been carried out with such secrecy that no one was aware of what was being done, and Hare might have left the country without recognition, had it not been for his own imprudence. The night was bitterly cold, and in the frosty air a seat on the top of a rapidly travelling coach was far from comfortable. Accordingly, when the mail arrived at Noblehouse, the second stage on the Edinburgh road, Hare, knowing there were twenty minutes to wait, descended from his perch, and accompanied the inside passengers into the inn. He seemed to be alive to the dangers of recognition, for at first he sat near the door, at the back of the company, with his cloak muffled closely around him, but some of his fellow-travellers, thinking his backwardness was due to modesty, said he must be perishing with cold, and invited him to a seat nearer the fire. Hare felt the truth of the suggestion, and in taking advantage of the invitation he threw aside his cloak and hat to warm his hands before the roaring fire. This was an injudicious movement on the part of the fugitive under any circumstances, but it was especially so now owing to the fact that Mr. Sandford, the advocate, who had been employed along with Mr. Jeffrey by Daft Jamie's relatives to conduct the prosecution against Hare, was a passenger in the coach, and one of the company in the inn. Sandford at once recognised him, and Hare knew that, for he saw the advocate shake his head ominously at him.

When the guard blew his horn for the renewal of the journey, Hare was first at the coach-door, and as the night was so bitterly cold, and there was a vacant seat inside, he was allowed to occupy it. Mr. Sandford, however, when he discovered the new arrangement, ordered the guard to "take that fellow out," and although others of the passengers remonstrated on the hardship of sending the man to the outside of the coach in such weather, he insisted upon being obeyed, and accordingly Hare was transferred to his old seat. The coach again started, and the advocate judging that his fellow-travellers were entitled to some explanation of his extraordinary conduct, revealed to them the identity of the person he had dealt with so harshly, and if their sympathies did not altogether disappear they at least concluded that the position taken up by Mr. Sandford was to some extent justifiable.

When the coach arrived in the morning at the King's Arms in Dumfries, the news spread rapidly that Hare was among its passengers, and by eight o'clock a crowd of some eight thousand people surrounded the inn, all eager to obtain a sight of the notorious murderer whose terrible crimes had caused such a sensation in that, as in other parts of the country. It was known that he was bound for Portpatrick, and the interval of four hours between the arrival of the Edinburgh mail and the departure of the Galloway and Portpatrick coach was one of the most exciting in the history of Dumfries. Meanwhile Hare was inside the inn drinking ale with a number of stablemen, giving them such ridiculous toasts as "Bad luck to fortune." Some of them tried to get a story of his crimes from him, but he declined to say anything about them, as he declared he had said enough about that before, and had done his duty in Edinburgh.

It was deemed impossible to drive the mail along the High Street, when the time of departure arrived, if Hare were in it, with safety to the other persons connected with it, for the people had laid their plans for the attack. They intended stopping the coach at the bridge and throwing Hare into the river, or failing that, they had closed the gates at Cassylands toll-bar where they proposed to deal with him in another manner. Two passengers were sent forward a part of the way in a gig, and the coach left the inn empty. The mob surrounded it, but their fury was only intensified to find that the West Port murderer was not in it. The coach was allowed to proceed, and attention was again turned to the inn, towards which a large number pressed their way. An old woman attempted to strike at "the villain" with her umbrella, and another, after exhausting herself with verbal abuse, seized him by the collar of the coat and gave him such a shaking that he was nearly strangled. An hostler addressed the now trembling Hare:--"Whaur are ye gaun, man? or whaur can ye gang tae? Hell's ower guid for ye. The very deevils, for fear o' mischief, widna daur to let ye in; and as for heaven, that's entirely oot o' the question." As he crouched in a corner a small boy menaced him, and was backed up by the crowd, who enjoyed the sight. Hare at last became so thoroughly exasperated that he told his tormentors to "come on," and give him "fair play." The tormenting to which he was subject became unbearable, and he seized his bundle and walked towards the door, determined, as he said, to let the mob "tak' their will o' him," but in this effort he was checked by a medical man who happened to be present.

The position of affairs in Dumfries had now become positively alarming, and Mr. Fraser, the landlord of the King's Arms, saw that while his obnoxious guest remained in his house it was in danger of being wrecked, and he was therefore naturally anxious for his removal. In fact the whole town and neighbourhood were completely convulsed, and it was impossible to tell what might be the next movement on the part of the excited people. The burgh magistrates met to deliberate upon some plan for preserving the peace of the town. After long consideration they agreed upon a plan which ran every risk of failure, but which was perhaps the only one they could have adopted.

A chaise and pair drove up to the door of the King's Arms, between two and three o'clock in the afternoon. A trunk was buckled to it, and a great fuss was made. While these movements were going on before the people to attract their attention from what was the really important part of the magisterial plan, Hare slipped out of a back window, crept along by the stable-wall to a chaise in readiness to receive him. Once he was in, the doors were closed, the postilion whipped his horses to the gallop, and drove rapidly along the street towards the river. The mob having received a hint of what was going on from a few boys who had been lounging about the inn stables, made after the chaise with a rush. Volleys of stones were thrown at it, and some of the missiles went through the windows of the vehicle, narrowly missing Hare, who cowered at the bottom of it. On the horses flew, and, taking a turn sharply, the coach was nearly overturned, but after running a short distance on two wheels it righted. At the bridge the fugitives were almost intercepted, but the people were too late. After some furious driving, the jail door was reached, and the governor, having been informed that he might expect a distinguished guest, opened the door immediately. Hare sprang out of the chaise, and in past a strong chain that had been placed behind the prison gate for greater security against a rush of the mob. "Into this gulf he leapt," said the _Dumfries Courier_ of the following week, "hop, step, and jump, a thousand times more happy to get into prison than the majority of criminals are to get out of it."

The people now saw how they had been deceived, and they were furious with rage and disappointment. Hare, if he fell into their hands now could not hope to escape; but, fortunately for him, the high strong walls of the prison were between him and the excited populace. The mob laid siege to the jail, blocked up all the door and gateway, and no one could pass out or in without considerable personal risk. This began at four o'clock in the afternoon, and for four hours later the angry mob howled and shouted, and even sought to break down the prison gates with a heavy piece of iron which they used as a battering-ram. When the street lamps in the vicinity were lighted at nightfall, they were immediately extinguished by some of the rioters, many of whom had now come to the conclusion that the best means they could adopt for forcing a surrender was to burn down the gate by lighted tar barrels and peats. About eight o'clock in the evening, however, the magistrates had made arrangements for dispersing the people. The militia staff and the police force had been found quite insufficient to quell the disturbance. A hundred special constables were therefore sworn-in, and were drafted to assist in the preservation of the peace. The augmented force quickly cleared the streets, and the people, tired and exhausted with their exciting day's employment, at last reluctantly retired to their homes. But their efforts were plainly manifest in the amount of wreckage about the town, and scarcely a window in the prison or its neighbourhood was intact.

While the tumult was at its height, Hare, fatigued and weary, slipped away to the bed provided for him, and soon he was fast asleep, for he had had no rest since leaving Calton Jail in Edinburgh. About one o'clock on Saturday morning he was wakened by the officials, who told him that, now the town was quiet, he must depart immediately. Trembling violently, he put on his clothes, and before leaving asked for his cloak and bundle. But these had been left at the inn, and were not at hand. The officers said he must do without them, and thank his stars into the bargain that he had escaped with whole bones. They also advised him that--as the whole of Galloway was in arms, and as the mail-coach had been stopped and searched the day before at Crocketford toll-bar, probably, also, at every other stage between Dumfries and Portpatrick--he would be better to take a different road. With this advice he set out on his journey on foot, and by three o'clock in the morning he was seen by a boy passing Dodbeck. By daybreak he was probably over the border. On Saturday and Sunday it was reported that Hare's identity had been discovered at Annan, and that he had been stoned to death; but this was a mistake, for the driver of the English mail, on his return journey, saw him seated on the roadside within half-a-mile of Carlisle shortly after five o'clock on Saturday afternoon. The fugitive was then seated talking to two stone-breakers, and as the coach passed he held down his head, but was recognised by the driver and an outside passenger. On the Sunday morning he was again seen about two miles beyond Carlisle, having skirted the city, the inhabitants of which were stated to be prepared to give him as cordial reception as the men of Dumfries. It is believed that after this Hare turned eastwards towards Newcastle, but as a matter of fact nothing is authoritatively known of his subsequent movements.

There is a story which an old resident of the east end of Glasgow, who died over eighty years of age, in the autumn of last year (1883), used to tell with great gusto. In his younger days this old gentleman was of a wandering disposition, and travelled on foot over the greater part of the island. In the spring of 1829 he passed through Berwick-on-Tweed, and put up for the night at a lodging-house there. He was told by the landlady that he could not have a bed for himself, but would require to sleep with another lodger who was, of course, a stranger to him. On retiring to the room, M'A----, the Glaswegian, found that his bed-fellow was before him, and was sound asleep. This, however, was of little consequence, and he was soon himself in a similar condition. In the middle of the night he was awakened by his companion grasping him firmly by the throat, and, greatly alarmed, he flung off his assailant, sprung out of bed, and demanded to know what such behaviour meant. The stranger replied, in an apologetic tone, that he must have had the nightmare, for he knew nothing about what he was doing until he was thrown off. After a little conversation the two men became quite friendly, and again retired to rest. The night passed without further incident. In the morning, when he awoke, M'A---- found that his bed-fellow was gone. He told the landlady at breakfast of the adventure, and she then informed him that the man with whom he had slept was none other than the notorious Hare. He shivered with horror, but the danger was past, and, for more than half a century, M'A---- told how in his youth he had spent a night with Hare, the accomplice of Burke. If the identification was correct, it was probably the case that Hare was really suffering from the nightmare, for it is not at all likely that he would attempt murder among strangers so soon after his narrow escape in Edinburgh.

In the preceding pages the story of Hare's departure from Scotland has been told, very much as given to the world in the columns of the _Dumfries Courier_; but the ballad-makers had another version which may prove interesting now, as it did at the time of its publication. Here are a few verses:--

"Dark was the mid-night, when Hare fled away, Not a star in the sky gave him one cheering ray, But still now and then blue lightning did glare, And strange shrieks assailed him like shrieks of despair.

"But still as the fugitive ran down the wild glen, Not a place did he fear like the dwellings of men; Where a heap lay before him all dismal and bare The ghost of Daft Jamie appeared to him there.

"'I am come,' says the shade, 'from the land of the dead, Though there be for poor Jamie no grass-covered bed; O'er hills and o'er valleys I'll watch thee for ill, I will haunt all thy wanderings, and follow thee still.

" . . . . . . . . . . . . 'I am come to remind you of deeds that are past, And tell you that Justice will find you at last.

"'When night darkens the world, oh, how can you sleep? In your dreams do you ne'er see my poor mother weep? And long will she weep, and long will she mourn, Till her wandering Jamie from the grave can return.

"'From the grave, did I say? Ah, calm is the bed Where sleepless and dreamless lie the bones of the dead; Their friends may lament them, and their sorrows may be, But no grave grows green in the wide world for me.

"'Oh, Hare, go and cover your fugitive head, In some land you're not known by the living or dead; For the living against thee will justly combine, And the dead will despise such a body as thine.'"