Fatal Circumstances: The Shaw Tragedy

The former site for executions at Leith Walk, as it looked in the 1960s

Circumstantial evidence is defined as “indirect evidence that does not, on its face, prove a fact in issue but gives rise to a logical inference that the fact exists.”  It can be extraordinarily convincing to a jury.  After all, so-called “direct evidence,” such as eyewitness testimony, is often incorrect.  But a series of facts which all appear to lead to just one conclusion can be very hard to argue against.  However, a once-notorious murder case taught a valuable lesson: the most obvious solution to a crime is not always the correct one.

In 1721, an upholsterer named William Shaw and his daughter Catherine lived in a tenement flat in Edinburgh, Scotland.  Unfortunately, their little household was far from happy.  Catherine wished to marry a jeweler named John Lawson.  However, William was vehemently opposed to the match.  He believed Lawson was a dissipated wretch who would inevitably make his daughter’s life miserable.  His chosen suitor for Catherine was a young man named Alexander Robertson, the son of a close friend of William’s.  When Catherine stubbornly continued to see Lawson, William confined her to their flat.  Neighbors in their crowded apartment building often heard the two bitterly quarreling over the matter.

One evening, a man named James Morrison, who lived next to the Shaws, heard father and daughter having one of their rows.  Although he could not hear the entire conversation (despite his obvious best efforts to eavesdrop) Morrison heard Catherine spitting out the words, “barbarity,” “cruelty,” and “death.”  Some time later, William stalked out, locking the door after him.  For a while, a welcome silence reigned.  Then, Morrison thought he heard groans coming from the Shaw flat.  Frightened by the thought of what might be going on, Morrison gathered together some neighbors, and they all cautiously approached the Shaw door.  They heard Catherine moan, “Cruel father, thou art the cause of my death.”

The crowd instantly broke the door down.  They found Catherine lying in a pool of blood, with a knife by her side.  The young woman was dying and unable to speak, but when asked if her father had truly been responsible for her injuries, it was thought that she nodded her head.  And then she died.

William arrived home right at this very inopportune moment.  When he saw his daughter lying lifeless, surrounded by the group of neighbors (as well as a constable who had just joined the scene,) he nearly fainted.  The officer instantly placed him under arrest.  Everyone present was interested to note that William’s shirt bore some blood stains, which he lamely explained were from wounds he had recently suffered.

William’s trial for murder was a mere formality.  All the circumstances stated above, including what appeared to be a deathbed accusation from the victim, made his guilty verdict a foregone conclusion.  He was hanged in November 1721.  William’s last words before being dispatched into eternity were, “I am innocent of my daughter’s murder.”  His body was left hanging in chains in Leith Walk.

Edinburghers shrugged.  They all say they didn’t do it, don’t they?

Life went on, and the regrettable matter was soon forgotten.  But not for long.  In August 1722, the man living in what had been the Shaw apartment was doing some light repair work in the room where Catherine had died.  While doing so, he discovered a folded paper that had become wedged into a small cavity on the side of the chimney.  It was a letter reading:  

“Barbarous father, your cruelty in having put it out of my power ever to join my fate to that of the only man I could love, and tyrannically insisting upon my marrying one whom I always hated, has made me form a resolution to put an end to my existence which has now become a burden to me.  I doubt not I shall find mercy in another world; for sure no benevolent being can require that I should any longer live in torment to myself in this!  My death I lay to your charge; when you read this consider yourself as the inhuman wretch that plunged the knife into the bosom of the unhappy--Catherine Shaw.”

Well.  

Friends and relatives of Catherine’s confirmed the handwriting was hers.  The magistrates of Edinburgh, having satisfied themselves of the letter’s authenticity, did what little they could to remedy their embarrassing situation.  William’s body--or whatever was left of it by this time--was removed from the gibbet and given to his family for a proper burial.  Over his grave was placed a banner proclaiming his innocence.  And for many years afterward, criminal defense attorneys recited the Shaw case to juries, as an example of the dangers of placing implicit trust in circumstantial evidence.