Maggie Dickson – The Curious Case of Half-Hangit Maggie
In 1724 Edinburgh, young fishwife Maggie Dickson was hanged for concealing her illegitimate pregnancy, yet miraculously revived on the road to burial and walked free, earning her the immortal nickname "Half-Hangit Maggie."
In the early 18th century, in the shadow of Edinburgh’s old town, lived a young woman named Margaret (Maggie) Dickson.
She was a fishwife and oyster-seller who worked along the shores of the Firth of Forth, and later in the Grassmarket, hawking her wares with a sharp tongue and a ready laugh. Life was hard, but Maggie was tougher.
In 1723 or 1724 (accounts vary slightly), Maggie’s husband, a fisherman, abandoned her and their child to seek work elsewhere.
Left destitute, Maggie found employment at an inn in Kelso, near the English border. There, she began a secret affair with the innkeeper’s son.
When she became pregnant, she concealed the pregnancy—partly out of shame, partly because the child was illegitimate, and under Scotland’s harsh 1690 Concealment of Pregnancy Act, hiding a pregnancy that ended in the child’s death was punishable by death itself.
Tragically, the baby was born prematurely and died within days (some say hours). Terrified and alone, Maggie placed the tiny body on the banks of the River Tweed, hoping it would be found and given a proper burial. Instead, the corpse was discovered and traced back to her. She was arrested, tried in Edinburgh, and on 2 September 1724, sentenced to hang in the Grassmarket.
Directory: Maggie Dicksons, Grassmarket
Nestled in the heart of Edinburgh’s vibrant Grassmarket, Maggie Dickson’s is a historic and lively pub that proudly embodies the legendary tale of “Half-Hangit” Maggie Dickson—the resilient 18th-century fishwife who miraculously survived her own execution in 1724.
Opened in homage to her enduring spirit of survival and defiance, the pub stands as a modern tribute on the very site where Maggie once sold oysters and faced her fate, transforming a grim chapter of Scottish history into a beacon of celebration and camaraderie.
The Execution
On the appointed day, a huge crowd gathered to watch the execution. Maggie was only about 22–23 years old. She stood on the gallows, prayed aloud, and declared her innocence of murder (though she admitted concealing the pregnancy). The rope was placed around her neck, the trapdoor dropped, and she dangled until pronounced dead.
Her body was cut down and placed in a coffin. By law, she belonged to the Crown, but her family and friends begged to take her home for a Christian burial in Musselburgh. After some haggling (and probably a bribe), the authorities agreed. The coffin was loaded onto a cart and the mournful procession set off eastward along the road to Musselburgh.
About halfway, near the village of Peffermill, the mourners stopped at a pub for refreshment. While they drank, a strange knocking and groaning came from inside the coffin. The lid was pried open—and Maggie Dickson sat up, very much alive.
Half Hangit
The hanging had failed. Whether the rope was too long, her neck too slender, or the drop too short, she had been only half-hanged—comatose, but not dead.
Panic and celebration broke out simultaneously. Word raced back to Edinburgh. The authorities were furious: could they hang her again? Legally, Maggie had already been executed; the sentence had been carried out. An old Scots legal maxim held that “the law can only kill you once.” After much debate (and probably some relief that they didn’t have to face another rioting crowd), the Lord Provost decided she was free to go. Maggie had, in effect, survived her own execution.
She returned to Musselburgh a celebrity. People flocked to see “Half-Hangit Maggie.” She remarried (some say her original husband came crawling back), opened a pub called “The Maggie Dickson” in the Grassmarket, bore more children, and lived another forty years, dying peacefully around 1765–70.
Her story became legend. Ballads were written, taverns named after her (one still stands today on Edinburgh’s Grassmarket with a sign showing her rising from the coffin), and to this day, the phrase “Half-Hangit Maggie” is used in Scotland for someone who narrowly escapes disaster.
And so the fishwife who couldn’t quite be killed walked free—proof, perhaps, that some people are just too stubborn to die.
