Welcome back to "This Day in Scottish History." I’m your host, Colin MacDonald. Today, we unravel a tale of greed, murder, and justice from the streets of Edinburgh—a story that culminated on this day, January 8, 1829, with the execution of one of Scotland’s most infamous criminals, William Burke.
Edinburgh in the early 19th century was a city of contrasts. Its Old Town was a warren of narrow closes and tenements, teeming with life—and death. At the same time, the city was renowned as a center of medical learning, drawing students and scholars from across the globe to its prestigious institutions. But this era of enlightenment had a dark underbelly. For medical advancements to flourish, a steady supply of cadavers was needed for anatomical study, yet the law limited the availability of corpses to those of executed criminals, unclaimed paupers, or those donated willingly. This scarcity led to the rise of body-snatching—graverobbers known as "resurrectionists" who exhumed freshly buried bodies to sell to anatomists.
It was in this grim environment that William Burke and his accomplice, William Hare, found their opportunity. Both were Irish immigrants, scraping by in Edinburgh's working-class neighborhoods. Their grisly enterprise began in November 1827, when one of Hare’s tenants, an elderly man, died in his lodging house. Owing Hare rent at the time of his death, the two men decided to sell the body to recoup their loss. They brought the corpse to Dr. Robert Knox, a well-known anatomist at the time, and were paid £7.10 for their trouble—a substantial sum for men of their means.
This initial transaction planted the seed of a far more sinister plan. Realizing that the demand for fresh bodies was insatiable, Burke and Hare decided not to wait for natural deaths. Over the next ten months, they lured vulnerable individuals to Hare’s lodging house, where they got them drunk before suffocating them. This method—later called “Burking”—left the bodies unmarked and ensured they would fetch top price from Knox and his associates. Most of their victims were marginalized members of society: the poor, elderly, homeless, or those whose disappearances might go unnoticed.
Their killing spree was marked by brazenness, fueled by greed and the sense that they were untouchable. They were responsible for at least 16 murders, though the true number is believed to be higher. The end came in late 1828, when they grew careless. Their final victim, Margaret Docherty, was killed just hours before the arrival of new tenants at Hare’s lodging house. When the new residents found her body, suspicions were raised, and the police were notified.
The subsequent investigation shocked Edinburgh to its core. The discovery of multiple bodies linked to the pair, combined with Hare’s decision to turn king’s evidence, sealed Burke’s fate. Hare’s testimony spared him prosecution, but Burke faced trial alone for the murder of Docherty. On Christmas Eve 1828, he was convicted and sentenced to death.
On the morning of January 8, 1829, William Burke was hanged in front of a massive crowd estimated to be over 25,000 strong. The public thirst for justice was palpable. For hours before the execution, people crammed into the streets, climbed rooftops, and perched on windowsills to witness the spectacle. As Burke stood on the gallows, the crowd jeered, venting their collective rage for the horrors he and Hare had inflicted on their city. After his death, Burke’s body met an ironic fate: it was handed over to the very anatomists he had supplied, dissected publicly in a lecture theatre. To this day, his skeleton is displayed at the University of Edinburgh’s Anatomy Museum, a chilling reminder of his crimes.
While Hare escaped prosecution, he did not escape public outrage. Forced to flee Edinburgh, he vanished into obscurity. Dr. Robert Knox, the anatomist who purchased the bodies, was never charged but faced significant backlash. His reputation suffered irreparable damage, and he eventually left Edinburgh.
The legacy of Burke and Hare extended far beyond the courtroom and gallows. The public outcry led to a major shift in how anatomy and dissection were regulated in Britain. In 1832, Parliament passed the Anatomy Act, which allowed medical schools to use unclaimed bodies from workhouses and hospitals. This legal reform ensured a legitimate supply of cadavers and effectively ended the gruesome trade in stolen or murdered bodies.
Even now, the story of Burke and Hare looms large in Scotland’s cultural memory. Their name is synonymous with one of the darkest chapters in Edinburgh’s history. Plays, films, books, and even folk songs have kept their tale alive, serving as both a cautionary tale and a macabre curiosity.
As we reflect on this grim event, it’s a stark reminder of how desperation and greed can drive individuals to unspeakable acts. It’s also a testament to how society evolves, learning from its darkest moments to create a better future. Edinburgh today remains a city deeply tied to its history, and if you ever visit, you can explore its eerie past through guided tours, museums, and the haunting relics left behind by Burke and Hare.
Thank you for joining me on this journey through one of Scotland’s most infamous days. I’m Colin MacDonald, and this has been "This Day in Scottish History." Haste ye back!
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit bagtown.substack.com