"Well, mistress, you recollect there was little love between the
apprentices of Edinburgh and Captain Porteous. All this might have
passed off in smart skirmishes on a king's birthday, or so; but his
brutal behaviour at poor Robinson's execution, and slaughter of the
townsmen, could not be forgiven by lord or tradesman. Well, as all
the land knows, he was condemned, and all were satisfied; for the
guilty was to suffer. But his pardon came; the bloodshedder of the
innocent was to leave the jail as if he had done nothing wrong! Was
this to be endured? Murmurs and threats were in every tradesman's
mouth; the feuds of the apprentices were quelled for a time; all
colours joined in hatred of the murderer. Yet no plan of operations
was adopted. In this combustible frame of mind, the drums of the
city beat to arms. I rushed from this very house to know the cause,
and saw the trades' lads crowding towards the jail. I inquired what
was their intention.
"'To execute righteous judgment!'" a strange voice said, in the crowd.
"I returned to the shop; and, taking the forehammer as the best
weapon I could find in my haste, with good will joined, and was at
the door amongst the foremost of those who attempted to break it
open. Numbers had torches. Lustily did I apply my hammer to its
studded front. Vainly did I exert myself, until fire was put to it,
when it at length gave way. As I ceased from my efforts, one of the
crowd, carrying a torch, put a guinea into my hand, and said--
"'Well done, my good lad. Take this; you have wrought for it. If
you are like to come to trouble for this night's work, fly to
Anstruther, and you will find a friend.'"
"While he spoke, those who had entered the jail were dragging
Porteous down the stairs. My heart melted within me at the piteous
sight. My anger left me, as his wailing voice implored mercy. I
left the throng, who were hurrying him up towards the Lawnmarket, and
hastened back to the workshop, where I deposited the hammer, and
threw myself upon my bed; but I could not remain. The image of the
wretched man, as he was dragged forth, appeared to be by my side.
Partly to know the result, partly to ease my mind, I went again into
the street. The crowds were stealing quietly to their homes. From
some neighbour apprentices I learned the fatal catastrophe. I now
became greatly alarmed for my safety, as numbers who knew me well had
seen my efforts against the door of the jail. Bitterly did I now
regret the active part I had taken. My immediate impulse was to fly
from the city; but in what direction I knew not. Thus irresolute, I
stood at the Netherbow Port, where the same person that gave me the
guinea at the jail-door approached to where I stood. Embracing the
opportunity, I told him the fear I was in of being informed upon,
when the magistrates began to investigate and endeavour to discover
those who had been active in the affair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account