The Strange Case of Deacon Brodie and Mr. Stevenson
The first of October 1788 dawned bright with expectation as close to 40,000 people began to gather in the streets of Edinburgh, Scotland. They were there to witness the execution of one of its most prominent citizens.
Those gathered expected to see a show and they were not disappointed. Standing five foot, four inches tall, with broad shoulders, dark brown eyes, and dressed in this best — black suit with matching silk vest and pants, white stockings, overcoat, powdered wig, and hat — he played to the crowd, bowing and calling out to those he knew.
At the gallows, he talked quietly with friends until time for what he called his “leap in the dark.” Bounding up the steps, he was forced to retreat as the rope wasn’t adjusted properly. After all, one has to get used to these new contraptions he was heard to say as he descended the stairs back to his friends.
Other witnesses heard him boast that he was about to be executed on the most efficient gallows in history. He should know; he had designed and bought the timber for the very gallows on which he was about to be hung.
Finally, everything is ready. He ascends the stairway only to be delayed again by further problems with the rope. Almost in a fit of frustration, he takes the noose from the executioner and fits it around his own neck.
