UC-MRtF 
 
 273 663 
 
THE ROBERT E COWAN COLLECTION 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 HY 
 
 C. P. HUNTINGTON 
 
 ! Recession No 
 
 :ss No 
 
 ?!35" 
 
LEGAL RECREATIONS. 
 
 VOL. III 
 
 Judidikl u 
 
JUDICIAL 
 
 PUZZLES. 
 
 Gathered from the State Trials. 
 
 JOHN PAGET, ESQ., 
 
 Barrister-at-law, Recorder of Thames Police Court. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO : 
 
 WHITNEY & Co. 
 1876. 
 
COPYRIGHT 187G, 
 
 BY 
 STJMNER WHITNEY & CO. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 These narratives and reviews of five most in 
 teresting State trials were published in u Black- 
 wood s Magazine " in 1859-60, and subsequently 
 reprinted, among other contributions of the same 
 author, in a volume entitled " Paradoxes and 
 Puzzles." 
 
 The publishers present this American edition 
 with the belief that it will prove attractive to 
 general readers as well as the legal profession and 
 add a pleasant variety to the series of "LEGAL 
 RECREATIONS." 
 
 January, 1876. 
 
 [5] 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. ELIZABETH 
 
 Her story 10-20 
 
 Henry Fielding 20 
 
 Sir Crispe G-ascoyne 27 
 
 Conviction of Squires and Wells 27 
 
 Conviction of Canning 35 
 
 II. THE CAMPDEX WONDER. 
 TRIAL OF THE PEHIIYS FOR MURDER OF HARRISON. 
 
 Chipping 1 Campden 37 
 
 Justice Shallow and Will Squele 38 
 
 Disappearance of Harrison 39 
 
 Confession of John Perry 41 
 
 Trial and execution of Joan, Richard, and John Terry. 43 
 
 Return of Harrison 44 
 
 His narrative 44 
 
 Confessions 51 
 
 Mania for self-accusation - 51 
 
 Cowper, the poet 51 
 
 Case at Calais 52 
 
 Confession of the witches 52 
 
 Isabel Gowdie, Janet Breadheid 53 
 
 Modern cases CO 
 
 Samuel Wall GO 
 
 Mutiny of the llermione 65 
 
 III. THE ANNESLEY CASE. 
 
 Marriage of Lord Altham 69 
 
 Appearance of the claimant 70 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 His trial fur murder, and acquittal 71 
 
 Had Lady Altham ever had a child ? 73 
 
 The household at Dumnaine 73 
 
 Contradictory evidence 7481 
 
 Evidence of Palliser, Joan Laffan, and Mary Heath . . 78 
 
 Kidnapping of James Annesley 84 
 
 Contradictory verdicts 85, 8G 
 
 IV. ELIZA PENNING. 
 
 Her funeral 87 
 
 Her trial 89-96 
 
 Reasons for believing her guilty 1)7 
 
 Rule of law preventing accused from giving evidence. 100 
 
 Inconsistency of the rule 101 
 
 Evils of the rule 101 
 
 Hatche s case 102 
 
 Plummer s case 103 
 
 Case of Squires 104 
 
 Canning s case 104 
 
 Suggested alteration of the rule 104 
 
 The Road Murder .... 106 
 
 V. SPENCER COWPER S CASE. 
 
 Sarah Stout 109 
 
 Character of Spencer Cowper 110 
 
 His trial 112 
 
 "Walker s evidence 112 
 
 Cowper s defense 115 
 
 Finding of the body of Sarah Stout 119 
 
 Lord Macaulay s account of the trial 123 
 
 His misrepresentations of facts and distortion of evi 
 dence 129 
 
 The Quakers 135 
 
 William Tallack 137 
 
 Lord Maeaulay s unscrupulous treatment of facts a 
 
 dangerous weapon 140 
 
 Might be easily turned against himself 140 
 
OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 I. 
 
 ELIZABETH CANNING. 
 
 Every one has heard of the case of Elizabeth Can 
 ning. It is constantly quoted, constantly relied up 
 on as an authority for propositions the most diverse 
 and even contradictory. There is a general vague 
 idea that an ingenious fraud was by some marvel 
 ous agency detected, that innocence was rescued 
 from imminent peril, and truth vindicated ; but by 
 what means or under what circumstances this took 
 place, who was innocent and who was guilty, very 
 few of those in whose mouths the name of the case 
 is most familiar would be able to say. To any one 
 who has taken the pains to make himself master of 
 the case, this hazy condition of mind will be any 
 thing but surprising. It is, in truth, perhaps, the 
 most complete and most inexplicable Judicial Puz 
 zle on record ; and after reading four hundred and 
 twenty-nine pages of close bad print, in the 19th 
 volume of the " State Trials," a candid man will 
 find himself equally amazed at the zeal, the indus 
 try, the ingenuity with which it was sought to dis 
 cover where the truth really lay ; and the way in 
 which, notwithstanding the fullest and most patient 
 [9J 
 
10 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 inquiry, that truth, though apparently close -at 
 hand, still eluded its pursuers. 
 
 Elizabeth Canning was a servant girl in the fam 
 ily of a man of the name of Edward Lyon, a car 
 penter in Aldermanbury. At the time in question 
 (1753) she was about eighteen years of age. Her 
 father had, during his lifetime, been also in the 
 employment of Mr. Lyon ; her mother resided in 
 the immediate neighborhood. She had previously 
 been in the service of another neighbor of the name 
 of Wintlebury for nearly two years : there was 
 every opportunity and every motive for the strict 
 est examination of her character, and it bore 
 the investigation without the slightest stain being 
 detected. On the 1st of January, 1753, her mistress 
 gave Elizabeth Canning permission to spend the 
 day with an uncle of the name of Collcy, who lived 
 at Saltpetre Bank, now known as Dock Street, near 
 Well-Close Square, and immediately behind the 
 London Dock. In the evening Colley and his wife 
 accomptmied her on her way back to her master s 
 in Aldermanbury as far as Houndsditch, where 
 they parted from her soon after nine o clock. At 
 this point she was lost sight of. She did not return 
 to her master s nor to her mother. The surprise, 
 alarm, and anxiety of her friends were extreme. 
 Advertisements were repeatedly inserted in the 
 papers, offering rewards for her discovery. It was 
 said that a shriek had been heard, as of some female 
 in distress, in a hackney-coach in Bishopsgate Street, 
 and attempts were made to find the driver, but in 
 vain. No trace of the lost girl could be discovered. 
 
ELIZABETH CAXXIXG. 11 
 
 On the 29th of January, about a quarter after 
 ten o clock in the evening, just as they were pre 
 paring to fasten up the house, and to go to bed, the 
 latch of her mother s door was lifted, and a figure 
 entered, pale, tottering, emaciated, livid, bent al 
 most double, with no clothes but her shift, a 
 wretched petticoat, and a filthy bed-gown, a rag 
 tied over her head, bloody from a wound on her 
 ear. Such was the condition in which Elizabeth 
 Canning returned after an absence of four weeks. 
 Where had she been ? what had happened to her 
 during those weeks ? 
 
 The first question which presents itself is, What 
 was the account given by the girl herself ? Then 
 follows the inquiry how far that account is supported, 
 or in what respects is it contradicted, by evidence 
 subsequently produced? As we proceed, we shall 
 find ourselves involved in a most perplexing and 
 difficult investigation, but for the present we may 
 confine our attention to Canning s own account. It 
 was given in the presence of many witnesses, with 
 out apparent preparation or concert with any one 
 indeed there was no time for this, as, immediately 
 upon he r arrival, the neighbors flocked in to ex 
 press their sympathy and satisfy their curiosity. 
 Few minutes had elapsed before the house was full. 
 
 Her former master, Mr. Wintlebury, (who seems 
 to have had a very kindly feeling towards her, and 
 who gave her the highest character) was among 
 them; another neighbor, of the name of Robert 
 Scarratt, was also there, and many more. The 
 statement made by Canning in reply to their in- 
 
12 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 quiries was, that as she passed through Moorfields, 
 after parting from her uncle and aunt, she was at 
 tacked by two men, who robbed her of what money 
 she had about her, stripped off her gown, and struck 
 her a blow which rendered her insensible. That 
 when she came to herself, she found that she was 
 being dragged along a road ; that about four o clock 
 in the morning they arrived at a house, into which 
 she was carried by these two men; "when she 
 came in, there was an elderly woman and two 
 young ones ; the old woman took hold of her arm 
 and asked if she would go their way? and she said 
 "No. Then she went and took a knife out of a 
 drawer, and cut the lacing of her stays and took 
 them off, and gave her a great slap in the face, and 
 told her she should suffer in the flesh, and opened a 
 door, and shoved her up a pair of stairs into a room."* 
 This room she described as a "longish, darkish 
 room,"f in which there was some hay,$ a pitcher 
 of water, some pieces of bread about as much 
 as would be equal in quantity to a quartern loaf ; 
 that there was a fireplace and a grate, out of 
 which she took the bedgown she had on, and the 
 rag which was tied over her head ; that there was a 
 cask, a saddle, a pewter basin, and a few other 
 articles, which she specified, in the room ; that the 
 house was ten or eleven miles from London on the 
 Hertfordshire road ; that there was a staircase near 
 the room, up and down which she heard persons pass* 
 
 * Evidence of Mary Myers, 19 State Trials, 504. 
 t Scarratt, 496-501. 
 J Myers, 505. 
 
OF THR 
 
 TJNIVERSITY 
 
 ELIZABETH C^^^^lfOFH^^ 13 
 
 ing during the night ; and that she had heard " the 
 name of Mother Wills or Mother Wells mention 
 ed." Whether this last statement as to the name 
 of Wells was made in reply to a suggestion or not, 
 is, however, doubtful Scarratt stating that it was 
 in reply to an expression used by him when he 
 hearcl she had been on the Hertfordshire road, that 
 he would " lay a guinea to a farthing she had been 
 at Mother Wells s " ;* whilst Mary Myers states that 
 Canning had mentioned the name of Wells to her 
 before Scarratt spoke, and that if Scarratt had 
 spoken previously she must have heard him.| She 
 certainly said she had been confined in a room on 
 the Hertfordshire road before any suggestion had 
 been made to her ;$ and when asked " how she knew 
 that?" accounted for it by saying that she had 
 seen, through the crevices of the boards which were 
 nailed over the window, a coachman, to whom she 
 had been accustomed to carry parcels for her 
 master addressed to Hertford, and by whose coach 
 her mistress had been in the habit of traveling, 
 drive past the house. She said, that after remain 
 ing confined in this room, with no other food than 
 the bread and water, and a minced pie which she 
 happened to have in her pocket, from the 1st of 
 January till the 29th, she escaped out at the win 
 dow by pulling some of the boards down, and in 
 doing so tore her ear. She described the woman 
 who robbed her of her stays as a " tall, black, swar- 
 
 * Scarratt, 495. J Woodward, 5:>7 ; Wintlebury, 510. 
 
 t Myers, 505; Wintlebury ,-510. Myers, 505. 
 
 PUZZLES 2. 
 
14 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 thy woman."* Scarratt, whose suspicions had, as 
 we have seen, pointed at Wells, immediately observ 
 ed that " that description did not answer to her."t 
 She then described very particularly the course she 
 took through the fields, past a tan-yard and over a 
 little bridge into the high-road, after making her 
 escape through the window. This description was, 
 however, given in reply to leading questions put by 
 Scarratt ; but it is worthy of remark that she said 
 she met a man, and asked her road to London t a 
 fact which, as we shall presently see, was sub 
 sequently confirmed by the evidence of a witness of 
 the name of Bennett. 
 
 Such in substance was the account given by Eliza 
 beth Canning on the evening of the 29th of January. 
 Is it a matter of surprise that such a story, told by a 
 young girl at the moment of her restoration to her 
 family, spoken in the starts and snatches of extreme 
 debility and exhaustion, attested by her emaciated 
 form, her pallid cheek, her numb and withered limbs, 
 should find deep sympathy and ready relief from 
 those who had known her from childhood, who had 
 listened day by day, for four weeks, to the lamenta 
 tions of her mother, and who had felt, as every day 
 passed, their hopes grow fainter, and their fears as 
 sume more and more the aspect of certainty ? And, 
 after all, is there such improbability on the face of 
 the story as should induce us even now to reject it 
 as incredible ? The robbery in Moorfields was the 
 
 * Woodward, 508 ; Scarratt, 49C. 
 t Scarratt, 496. 
 t Scarratt, 496. 
 Bennett, 627. 
 
ELIZABETH CAXXIXG. 15 
 
 most probable of occurrences. It is impossible to take 
 up a newspaper of that period without finding simi 
 lar outrages recorded. It is true that it is difficult 
 to assign any motive that could induce the robbers 
 to encumber themselves with the strongest proof 
 of their crime, by carrying her off ; but it is equally 
 difficult to suggest any cause other than that which 
 she herself assigned for the condition to which she 
 was reduced. An attempt was made during the 
 proceedings to show a connection to have existed 
 between Elizabeth Canning and the witness Scar- 
 ratt, but the attempt utterly failed. Scarratt swore 
 (and he would have been easily contradicted had he 
 sworn falsely) that he had no acquaintance with the 
 girl ; and although he resided in the neighborhood, 
 he believed he had never even seen her until the 
 night of her return to her mother s house. It was 
 upon her saying that she had been on the Hertford 
 shire road that his suspicions pointed to Wells house, 
 which he had before known as one of evil repute, 
 as the place of her confinement ; but his good faith is 
 shown by his admission that he mentioned the name 
 of Wells to her first, and the description which Can 
 ning gave of the room could not have been sug 
 gested by his questions, as he had never been in it.* 
 The description which she gave of the woman who 
 cut off her stays is also conclusive that she was not 
 prompted by Scarratt, who, when he heard it, im 
 mediately said that it did not answer to Wells, who 
 was the person he suspected. 
 
 * Scarratt, 498. 
 
16 JUDICIAL* PUZZLES. 
 
 On the day but one after, the 31st of January, 
 Canning repeated her story to Alderman Chitty, 
 who was the sitting alderman at the time, and who 
 thereupon issued his warrant for the apprehension 
 of Mother Wells. 
 
 On the 1st of February, Canning, accompanied by 
 her mother and her friends, went with the officer 
 who had charge of the warrant to Enfield Wash. 
 
 The house of Mother Wells still stands a little 
 beyond the tenth milestone on the Hertford road. 
 It is on the right hand, at the corner of the lane 
 leading down to the Ordnance Factory Station of 
 the Eastern Counties Railway. The shell has been 
 but little altered, and the rooms still remain nearly 
 the same as they appear on the plan which was pub 
 lished in the "Gentleman s Magazine" for 1753. 
 If the truth of Elizabeth Canning s story was to be 
 proved in the same way as Jack Cade s royal de 
 scent, " the bricks are alive to this day to testify it." 
 The window through which she escaped still com 
 mands a view of the road to Hertford. Chingford 
 Hill might still, but for the cottages which have 
 sprung up in consequence of the railway station, be 
 seen, as she described, from the other window. 
 The pantiles of the roof still remain unpointed, and 
 everything bears testimony to the truth of her de 
 scription. But instead of Mother Wells and her 
 gang of tramps and gipsies, we found, on our visit 
 to Enfield Wash, a comely matron presiding at a 
 table surrounded by bonny lasses and chubby boys 
 from sixteen downwards, whose laughing blue 
 eyes and clear, rosy complexions formed as strong 
 
ELIZABETH CAXNTXG. 17 
 
 and agreeable a contrast to poor Elizabeth Can 
 ning as the bright furniture, cheerful hearth, and 
 blazing fire did to the desolation, filth, and dis 
 comfort which formerly prevailed in that now com 
 fortable dwelling. Assuredly fate seems to have 
 mingled a very fair allowance of sugar and nutmeg 
 in the cup of Mr. Xegus for such is the jolly name 
 of the present occupant of the house, who seems to 
 be, and we trust is, driving a prosperous trade as a 
 baker. 
 
 Canning was earned from room to room, and at 
 last into the loft. She immediately said, " This is 
 the room I was in, but there is more hay in it than 
 there was when I was here ; "* and she pushed some 
 of the hay aside with her foot, and showed two 
 holes in the floor which she had observed. She 
 pointed out the cask, the saddle, the pitcher, the 
 tobacco-mould, and the pewter basin, t which she 
 had mentioned on her arrival at her mother s ; and 
 she correctly described the view which might be 
 seen from each of the windows. On examination, 
 the boards which closed up the window at which 
 she said she had escaped, were found to have been 
 only fastened there very recently, as " the wood was 
 fresh split with driving a great nail through it, and 
 the crack seemed as fresh as could be."J 
 
 Could there be stronger confirmation of the truth 
 of her story ? By what means could Canning have 
 acquired this accurate knowledge? It has been 
 said that the room did not agree with Canning s 
 
 * Myers, 606. J Adamson, 517. 
 
 t Scarratt, 497 : Myers, 506. 
 
18 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 description. A careful examination of the evidence 
 shows, however, that it coincided with that descrip 
 tion in the most remarkable manner. There were, 
 no doubt, some discrepancies for instance, Canning 
 had mentioned a grate, and there proved to be 
 none. She had spoken of a saddle, and three were 
 found. She had spoken of being locJced in, whilst 
 in fact the door was fastened only with a button or 
 bolt. There were some other trifling inaccuracies. 
 Suspicion had pointed at Wells as the person 
 who had committed the outrage; but when Can 
 ning was brought into the room in which all the 
 inmates of the house were collected, contradicting 
 the expectation of her friends, she passed Wells by 
 unnoticed, and, pointing to an old gipsy woman of 
 the name of Mary Squires, who was sitting by the 
 fire, said, " That old woman in the corner was the 
 woman that robbed me." The gipsy rose from her 
 seat, drew aside the cloak in which she was partially 
 muffled, and displayed a face such as, once seen, 
 could not easily be forgotten. She was, as Canning 
 had described her, " tall, dark, and swarthy." She 
 looked steadfastly at Canning, and exclaimed, " Me 
 rob you ! I never saw you in my life before. For 
 God Almighty s sake do not swear my life away ! 
 Pray, madam, look at this face ; if you have once 
 seen it before, you must have remembered it : for 
 God Almighty, I think, never made such another. 
 Pray, madam, when do you say I robbed you?" 
 Canning said it was on the first day of the new 
 year. " Lord bless me ! " exclaimed the gipsy, " I 
 was a hundred and twenty miles from this place 
 
ELIZABETH CAXXIXG. 19 
 
 then ! " George Squires, the gipsy s son, immedi 
 ately added, " We were in Dorsetshire at that time, 
 at a place called Abbotsbury ; we went there to 
 keep our Christmas." Here we arrive at the begin 
 ning of what makes this case so remarkable. We 
 have insisted on the importance of the first account 
 given by Canning. The gipsy and her son are en 
 titled to a like consideration. This prompt and 
 ready alibi, asserted without hesitation, specifying 
 time and place with undoubting accuracy, and thus 
 affording means for testing its truth, gave occasion 
 to the very remarkable conflict of testimony which 
 followed, and which entitles this case to its rank as 
 one of the most interesting on record. An alibi 
 is, as has often been remarked, the best or the 
 worst of defenses. It often depends upon a few 
 miles or even a few yards of distance, or upon a 
 clock being a few minutes fast or slow. No such 
 nicety arises in this case. The robbery was commit 
 ted early on the morning of the 1st of January Xew 
 Year s Day a date easily fixed. Abbotsbury is a 
 hundred and fifty miles, as the crow flies, from 
 Enfield: the gipsy understated the distance. It 
 also often involves difficult questions of personal 
 identity. Xone such arise here. The gipsy spoke 
 truly when she said that "God Almighty never 
 made such another face as hers." She was not 
 only singularly hideous, but deeply marked with 
 the scars of disease ; and the witnesses who were 
 examined had many of them been long familiar 
 with her appearance. These circumstances seem 
 to exclude the possibility of mistake on the part of 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
20 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 the witnesses. Must we then resort to the conclu 
 sion that one side or the other is guilty of perjury? 
 This hypothesis, though easy and simple enough at 
 first sight, will be found on investigation to be 
 attended with nearly as many difficulties as any 
 other. We must, however, go back to Elizabeth 
 Canning, whom we left in Mother Wells kitchen, 
 confronted by the gipsy and her son. In the house, 
 besides the gipsy and her family, was a man of the 
 singular name of Fortune Natus and his wife, and 
 a young woman named Virtue Hall. The whole 
 party were forthwith taken to the residence of the 
 nearest magistrate, Mr. Teshmaker, of Ford s Grove, 
 by whom all were discharged with the exception of 
 the gipsy and Mother Wells, who were committed 
 to prison to take their trial, the one for stealing 
 Canning s stays, and the other as accessory to the 
 felony. 
 
 A new actor now comes on the stage, and a 
 curious insight is afforded into the mode in which 
 inquiries of this nature were conducted in the 
 metropolis a hundred years ago. 
 
 Henry Fielding, the celebrated novelist, was then 
 a police magistrate of London. 
 
 To tell a tale told by Fielding in any words but 
 his own would indeed be presumption. 
 
 " Upon the 6th of February," he says,* " as I was 
 sitting in my room, Counselor Maden being then 
 with me, my clerk delivered me a case, which was 
 thus, as I remember, indorsed at the top : The case 
 
 * A Clear State of the Case of Elizabeth Canning, by Henry Fielding, 
 Esq., 1753, p. 30. 
 
ELIZABETH CANNING. 21 
 
 of Elizabeth Canning, for Mr. Fielding s opinion ; 
 and at the bottom, Salt, Solr. Upon the receipt 
 of this case, with my fee, I bid my clerk give my 
 service to Mr. Salt, and tell him that I would take 
 the case with me into the country, whither I intend 
 ed to go the next day, and desired he would call 
 for it on the Friday morning afterwards; after 
 which, without looking into it, I delivered it to my 
 wife, who was then drinking tea with us, and who 
 laid it by. The reader will pardon my being so 
 particular in these circumstances, as they seem, how 
 ever trifling they may be in themselves, to show the 
 true nature of this whole transaction, which hath 
 been so basely misrepresented, and as they will all 
 be attested by a gentleman of fashion, and of as 
 much honor as any in the nation. My clerk pres 
 ently returned up-stairs, and brought Mr. Salt with 
 him, who, when he came into the room, told me 
 that he believed the question would be of little diffi 
 culty, and begged me earnestly to read it over then, 
 and give him my opinion, as it was a matter of some 
 haste, being of a criminal nature, and he feared the 
 parties would make their escape. Upon this, I de 
 sired him to sit down ; and when the tea was ended, 
 I ordered my wife to fetch me back the case, which 
 I then read over, and found it to contain a very full 
 and clear state of the whole affair relating to the 
 usage of this girl, with a query what methods might 
 be proper to take to bring the offenders to justice ; 
 which query I answered in the best manner I was 
 able. Mr. Salt then desired that Elizabeth Canning 
 might swear to her information before me; and 
 
22 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 added that it was the very particular desire of 
 several gentlemen of that end of the town, that 
 Virtue Hall might be examined by me relating to 
 her knowledge of this affair. This business I at first 
 declined, partly as it was a transaction which had 
 happened at a distant part of the country, as it had 
 been examined already by a gentleman with whom 
 I have the pleasure of some acquaintance, and of 
 whose worth and integrity I have, with all, I be 
 lieve, who know him, a very high opinion ; but prin 
 cipally, indeed, for that I had been almost fatigued 
 to death with several tedious examinations at that 
 time, and had intended to refresh myself with a 
 day or two s interval in the country, where I had 
 not been, unless on a Sunday, for a long time. I 
 yielded, however, at last, to the importunities of Mr. 
 Salt ; and my only motives for so doing were, be 
 sides those importunities, some curiosity, occasioned 
 by the extraordinary nature of the case, and a great 
 compassion for the dreadful condition of the girl, 
 as it was represented to me by Mr. Salt. 
 
 " The next day Elizabeth Canning was brought in 
 a chair to my house, and being led up-stairs between 
 two, the following information, which I had never 
 before seen, was read over to her, when she swore 
 to the truth, and set her mark to it." 
 
 Here follows Canning s information, somewhat 
 expanded from the one made before Alderman Chit- 
 ty, but in the main the same. 
 
 " Upon this information," continues Fielding, " I 
 issued a warrant against all who should be found res 
 ident in the house of the said Wells, as idle and dis- 
 
ELIZABETH CAXXIXG. 23 
 
 orderly persons, and persons of evil name, that they 
 might appear before me, and give security for their 
 good behavior ; upon which warrant, Virtue Hall 
 and one Judith Nntus were seized and brought be 
 fore me, both being found at Mother Wells . They 
 were in my house above an hour or more before I 
 was at leisure to see them, during which tune, and 
 before I had ever seen Virtue Hall, I was informed 
 that she would confess the w r hole matter. When 
 she came before me she appeared in tears, v and 
 seemed all over in a trembling condition, upon which 
 I endeavored to soothe and comfort her. The words 
 I first spoke to her, as well as I can rembember, 
 were these : Child, you need not be under this fear 
 and apprehension; if you will tell us the whole 
 truth of this affair, I give you my word and honor, 
 as far as it is in my power to protect you, you shall 
 come to no manner of harm. She answered that 
 she would tell the whole truth, but desired to have 
 some time given her to recover from her fright. 
 Upon this, I ordered a chair to be brought her, and 
 desired her to sit down ; and then, after some min 
 utes, began to examine her, which I continued doing 
 in the softest language and kindest manner I was 
 able, for a considerable time, till she had been guilty 
 of so many prevarications and contradictions that I 
 told her I would examine her no longer, but would 
 commit her to prison, and leave her to stand or fall 
 by the evidence against her ; and at the same time 
 advised Mr. Salt to prosecute her as a felon, togeth 
 er with the gipsy woman. Upon this she begged I 
 would hear her once more, and said that she would 
 
24 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 tell the whole truth, and accounted for her unwilling 
 ness to do it from her fears of the gipsy woman and 
 Wells. I then asked her a few questions, which 
 she answered with more appearance of truth than 
 she had done before ; after which I recommended 
 to Mr. Salt to go with her, and take her information 
 in writing ; and at her parting from me, I bid her 
 to be a good girl, and be sure to say neither more 
 nor less than the whole truth. During this whole 
 time there were no less than ten or a dozen persons 
 of credit present, who will, I suppose, testify the 
 truth of this whole transaction as it is here related. 
 Virtue Hall then went from me, and returned in 
 about two hours ; when the following information, 
 which was, as she said, taken from her mouth, was 
 read over to her, and signed with her mark." 
 
 The information of Virtue Hall, as might be ex 
 pected from the circumstances under which it was 
 taken, is a mere echo to that of Canning. 
 
 What should we think at the present day of a 
 magistrate who received a fee ad instructions from 
 a prosecuting solicitor, who hesitated to investigate 
 a charge of felony because he wanted a day or two 
 of relaxation in the country, who alternately coaxed 
 and threatened the prisoner who had been brought 
 before him on his own warrant, until he had ob 
 tained a confession, and who then allowed that pris 
 oner to be closeted in private with the attorney for 
 the prosecution, and to be sworn to an information 
 procured from her by the attorney during that in 
 terview, and produced ready cut and dried ! The 
 imivete with which Fielding tells the story is amus- 
 
ELIZABETH CANNING. 25 
 
 ing. He was clearly unconscious that he was doing 
 anything wrong or even irregular, and no doubt 
 such a preceding was by no means unusual. But 
 the evidence of Virtue Hall is under these circum 
 stances utterly worthless. We need feel no sur 
 prise that she afterwards, when the pressure came 
 from the other side, retracted every word she had 
 sworn, and her testimony may be cast out of the 
 case altogether.* We still get no further than the 
 evidence of Elizabeth Canning herself. 
 
 On the 21st of February, 1753, Mary Squires and 
 Susannah Wells were placed at the bar of the Old 
 Bailey. Canning told her story ; Virtue Hall cor 
 roborated it point by point. The condition in which 
 she returned home, and the circumstances attending 
 the capture of Squires and Wells, were proved as 
 we have narrated them. Squires was then called 
 upon for her defense. She said nothing, but called 
 three witnesses. John Gibbons, who kept a public- 
 house at Abbotsbury, near Dorchester, swore that 
 Squires was at his house from the 1st of January to 
 the 9th. William Clarke corroborated this state 
 ment. Thomas Greville, of Coombe, near Salisbury, 
 deponed that she was at his house on the 14th of 
 January. To meet this evidence, a man of the name 
 of Iniser was called on behalf of the prosecution to 
 prove that he had seen Squires in the neighborhood 
 of Enfield about the time in question namely, the 
 first week in January. Wells, on being called upon, 
 admitted that her character would not bear investi- 
 
 * State Trials, six. 455, 275 ; Gascoync s Report ; Dr. Hill s pamphlet. 
 Sec " A. full and authentic Account," etc., p. 06. 
 
 PUZZLES 3. 
 
26 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 gation. She was what was called in the slang of 
 the day (rendered classic by Mr. Harrison Ains- 
 worth and the Newgate-Calendar school of novel 
 ists) a " hempen widow." Her husband had been 
 " unfortunate." It is curious to watch the changes 
 of language. A word which then meant that a 
 scoundrel had been hanged, now only implies that 
 lie has obtained a second-class certificate from a com 
 missioner of bankruptcy. Both were convicted. 
 On the last day of the session they were called up 
 for sentence. Squires then said that she was at 
 Grcville s house at Coombe on New Year s Day, on 
 the next day at Stopage, on the Thursday in New 
 Year s week at Basingstokc, on Friday at Bagshot, 
 on Saturday at Old Brentford, where she remained 
 on Sunday and Monday ; and th.it she came to En- 
 field on the Tuesday following. This account, be 
 ing inconsistent with that given by Gibbons, who 
 had sworn that from the 1st to the 9th of January 
 she was at his house at Abbotsbury, was considered 
 to be conclusive of the falsehood of her defense. It 
 seems to have been overlooked that the gipsy reck 
 oned by the old style, which reconciles the two 
 statements within two days no very serious dis 
 crepancy when made by an ignorant and illiterate 
 woman. Squires was sentenced to death; Wells 
 was condemned to be branded on the hand, and im 
 prisoned, for six months. The first part of this sen 
 tence was immediately executed ; and as the poor 
 wretch s hand hissed under the glowing iron, and 
 she writhed and screamed in agony, a yell of de 
 light burst from the brutal mob who crowded the 
 session-house. 
 
ELIZABETH 
 
 There was, however, happily cue man present, of 
 sense and humanity. Sir Crispe Gascoyne, who 
 presided over the court by virtue of his office as 
 Lord Mayor, doubted the correctness of the verdict. 
 He instituted a close and careful inquiry. He 
 found the evidence of the Abbotsbury men con 
 firmed by their neighbors. Virtue Hall retracted 
 her evidence.* These facts he laid before the 
 Crown on making his report of the convicts. They 
 were referred to the law-officers. Squires was res 
 pited. The Attorney and Solicitor-General reported 
 that the weight of the evidence was in the convict s 
 favor, and upon this she received a free pardon. 
 
 A war of pamphlets now commenced ; as many 
 as thirty-six were published. Fielding on the one 
 side and Ramsay the painter on the other, became 
 respectively the champions of Canning and the 
 gipsy. The newspapers were filled with the con 
 troversy. Portraits of Canning and of the gipsy 
 (the latter of which fully bear out the report of her 
 ugliness) were displayed in the shop windows, to 
 gether with plans and views of Wells house, 
 and terrific representations of the principal inci 
 dents of the story. Grub Street thrived. To its 
 hungry inhabitants 
 
 " Betty Canning was at least, 
 With Gascoyne s help, a six mouths feast."t 
 
 The town was divided into Egyptians and Can- 
 niugites. Families were split up into factions. Old 
 friends who took different sides quarreled. Mobs 
 
 * Report, State Trials, xix, 275. 
 t Churchill Ghost, 182. 
 
28 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 paraded the streets, blockaded the entrances to the 
 courts, and attacked Sir Crispc Gascoync in Ids 
 coach. Never, probably, has a case which involved 
 no public question created so much interest and 
 excitement. 
 
 This state of things continued for fourteen 
 months. At length, on the 29th of April 1754, 
 Canning was placed at the same bar at which 
 Squires had formerly stood, to take her trial for 
 willful and corrupt perjury. Her trial lasted several 
 days. The attention of the prosecution was di 
 rected principally to two points : first, to prove the 
 alibi of the gipsy; and, secondly, to contradict 
 Canning s story by the evidence of persons who had 
 been in the room during the time she professed to 
 have been confined there. 
 
 In support of the first of these issues they called 
 as many as thirty-six witnesses; and certainly, if 
 numbers, positivcness, and particularity could prove 
 an issue, this was proved. But when the evidence 
 comes to be examined, much of it is open to grave 
 suspicion. George Squires, the gipsy s son, gave 
 the most minute account of where he and his mother 
 and sister were, and what they did during the 
 month of January. lie traced their course day by 
 day, and from place to place. But when he was 
 asked with regard to the rest of his journey, which 
 he stated began about Michaelmas, he was totally 
 unable to answer. His sister, who was in court the 
 whole time, and who had accompanied George and 
 his mother in their travels, was never examined at 
 all, nor was the gipsy herself placed in the witness- 
 
ELIZABETH CANNING. 29 
 
 box. It wa:s obvious that the counsel for the pros 
 ecution feared that they would give inconsistent 
 or contradictory accounts. 
 
 Upon the second issue, the principal witnesses 
 were Fortune Natus and his wife, who swore that 
 they sleft in the loft every night during the month 
 of January. If this was true, of course there is an 
 end of the question. But it must be remembered 
 that, long before they were examined, Virtue Hall 
 had sworn that the hay in which they had slept in 
 the kitchen was removed into the loft, and that they 
 slept there after Canning s escape, on purpose to give 
 color to this very story. It may also be asked, why 
 was not this tale told on the trial of Squires ? If 
 true, the very first thing that would have been said, 
 when Canning stated that she had been confined in 
 that room, would have been, " That cannot be, for 
 Natus and his wife slept there the whole of the 
 time." Yet Natus and his wife were present when 
 Canning was first brought down to Enfield; they 
 were taken before Justice Teshmaker; they were 
 present during the trial of Squires, when they were 
 not examined, and this fact, conclusive, if true, is 
 never heard of until fourteen months afterwards! 
 Is it possible to place any reliance upon evidence 
 given under such circumstances ? 
 
 The argument most strongly relied upon as in 
 validating Canning s story, arises from the absence 
 of motive on the part of any one to carry her off 
 and shut her up as she described. Canning swore 
 that she understood the gipsy s question, whether 
 she " would go their way," to imply that she should 
 
30 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 lead a life of prostitution. This was the interpreta 
 tion popularly adopted ; and much of the sympathy 
 which Canning obtained was given on the supposi 
 tion that she was a girl whose virtue had been proof 
 against both temptation and terror. But this hypoth 
 esis will not bear a moment s investigation. There 
 is not one particle of evidence that she was exposed 
 to any solicitations whatever of this kind. Nor, 
 though it was the resort of tramps, gipsies, and 
 other disreputable characters, docs it appear that 
 Mother Wells was what is commonly understood 
 by a house of ill-fame. But docs the absence of as 
 signable motive justify us in rejecting the story as 
 untrue? Those who are familiar with criminal 
 courts know well how slight and insignificant are 
 the motives which often impel men to the most 
 terrible crimes. Gleeson Wilson entered the house 
 of Mrs. Henrickson, at Liverpool, apparently with 
 no other intention but that of pilfering such small 
 articles as he might have an opportunity of purloin 
 ing as a lodger ; but before he left it the next morn 
 ing, he had committed four of the most atrocious 
 murders on record. It is not more than three or 
 four years since two boys, returning home from their 
 work, in broad daylight, in the middle of London, 
 were met by an apparently respectable man driving 
 a Whitechapel cart, Avho inquired his way to some 
 place in the neighborhood. One of the boys began 
 to give him directions, when he asked the little 
 fellow to get into the cart, and show him the road. 
 Rejoicing in the certainty of a ride, and the hope 
 of a sixpence, the poor boy got into the cart, and 
 
ELIZABETH CANNING. 31 
 
 his companion went home to tea. He was never 
 again seen alive. About six weeks afterwards, his 
 body, naked, in a state of the most extreme emacia 
 tion, was found in a ditch near Acton. There was 
 no external violence. He had been starved to 
 death. The police exhausted every means that in 
 genuity could suggest, but in vain. No traces have 
 ever been discovered how, why, or by whom this 
 appalling crime was committed ; nor has any motive 
 for its commission been, so far as we are aware, 
 even suggested. Had Elizabeth Canning died in 
 the house of Mother Wells, and her body been 
 thrown into a ditch in Enfield marsh, an equally 
 impenetrable mystery would probably have shrouded 
 her fate. 
 
 Highly improbable every one must admit Can 
 ning s story to be, and we must therefore look with 
 the most critical caution upon the confirmatory 
 evidence, before we permit ourselves to admit its 
 truth. That confirmatory evidence divides itself into 
 two classes. The first we may call the circumstan 
 tial confirmation, derived from its coincidence with 
 existing facts. Such is the coincidence between 
 her description of the room and its contents given 
 on the 29th of January, with the condition of the 
 room actually found on the first of February. 
 Such, too, is the coincidence of the description pre 
 viously given by Canning of the appearance of the 
 woman who cut off her stays with the gipsy. This 
 confirmation is of course weaker or stronger in pro 
 portion as it is tainted by or free from previous 
 suggestions from, other persons. Thus, her descrip- 
 
OZ JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 tion of the room, which was independent of, and 
 her description of the gipsy, which was contra 
 dictory to, Scarratt s suggestions, are worthy of 
 much consideration ; whilst her description of the 
 fields through which she passed, of the tan-yard and 
 the bridge, given in reply to his suggestive ques 
 tions, is of little or no value. This we have already 
 considered. The second class is the extrinsic con 
 firmation derived from the testimony of witnesses, 
 and this is again divided into that which supports 
 Canning s story, and that which contradicts the 
 alibi set up by Squires. 
 
 As to the first of these subdivisions, the evidence 
 is scanty, but valuable as far as it goes. Th*>, 
 keeper of the turnpike gate on Stamford Hill, about 
 three miles from Moorfields, deposed that, one 
 evening early in January, between ten and eleven 
 o clock, he heard " something of a sobbing crying 
 voice," coming towards the gate from the direction 
 of London. The night was still and dark, but as 
 the noise approached he saw two men dragging a 
 young woman along. They lifted her over the 
 stile by the gate, and one of the men laughed and 
 said with an oath, " How drunk she is ! " Sup 
 posing this to be the case, and that the woman w^as 
 the Avife or sister of one of the men, besides consid 
 ering that he was sir jle-handed, he did not inter 
 fere, and they passed on in the direction of Enfield. 
 He did not profess to identify Canning, nor to fix 
 the time with any greater certainty than that it 
 was the beginning of January. 
 
 It will be remembered that, on her arrival at 
 home, Canning said, that soon after escaping from 
 
ELIZABETH CANNING. 33 
 
 Mother Wells , she asked her road to London. 
 Thomas Bennett deponed, that on the afternoon of 
 the 29th of January he met a girl in the most 
 wretched and pitiable condition, and whose des 
 cription exactly answered to Canning, about a quar 
 ter of a mile on the London side of Mother Wells 
 house ; that she asked him the way to London, and 
 he directed her. He fixed the date by other cir 
 cumstances, and said that when, a day or two after 
 wards, he heard of Canning s escape, he exclaimed, 
 "I ll be hanged if I did not meet the young 
 woman near this place, and told her the way to Lon 
 
 don." 
 
 Daniel Dyer and Mary Cobb gave similar evi 
 dence as to having met a miserable looking girl 
 about the same time and place, and the former 
 spoke with some confidence to Canning as being 
 that girl. It will be observed that the other wit 
 nesses merely speak to general similarity. But this, 
 though at first sight it appears to detract from the 
 value of their testimony, in fact adds to its weight. 
 Had they not been giving truthful evidence, they 
 would have made little scruple in swearing posi 
 tively to Canning as being the person they saw. 
 
 Is it, then, likely that another girl, so closely 
 answering the description both as to person and 
 circumstances, (both being so remarkable) should 
 have been dragged by two men along that road 
 towards Enfield, at the same hour of the night, at 
 the beginning of January, and have returned on the 
 afternoon of the 29th ? Such a coincidence appears 
 almost beyond the bounds of possibility. 
 
34 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 Here the evidence with regard to Canning ends. 
 
 To meet the alibi proved by the thirty-six Ab- 
 botsbury witnesses, twenty-six Enfield witnesses 
 were called, who swore that they had seen Mary 
 Squires at Enfield and in the neighborhood at 
 various times during the latter end of December 
 and beginning of January. They swore to the 
 identity of Squires, whom many of them had long 
 known, with the utmost certainty ; they gave their 
 reasons, some good and some bad, for remembering 
 the time with the greatest accuracy. Their testi 
 mony seems to be in all respects equal, and in some 
 superior, to that of the witnesses who had proved 
 the alibi. 
 
 Here, then, we find the extraordinary fact of 
 thirty-six witnesses positively swearing that a par 
 ticular person, whom they well knew, was in Dorset 
 shire at a certain time, and twenty-six other witness 
 es swearing that the same person, whom they knew 
 equally well, was at the same time a hundred and 
 fifty miles off, in Middlesex ! What are we to make 
 of this ? We have turned it over and over, looked 
 at it this way and that way, read it backwards, and 
 forwards, and upside down, and there it remains, 
 puzzling us like a horrid incubus or incomprehensi 
 ble nightmare. Is any faith to be placed in human 
 testimony ? Read the evidence on one side, and it 
 is impossible to refuse our assent to it. Read that 
 on the other, and it is equally conclusive. The alibi 
 and the ill are each supported by a train of evi 
 dence which appears irresistible. 
 
 The Recorder told the jury that if they believed 
 the Enfield witnesses, the Abbotsbury witnesses 
 
ELIZABETH CANNING. 35 
 
 must be willfully perjured ; but he forgot to add, 
 that if they believed the Abbotsbury witnesses, an 
 equally unpleasant consequence followed as to the 
 Enfield witnesses. 
 
 The verdict of the jury was of a piece with the 
 rest of the case. They found that Canning was 
 "guilty of perjury, but not willful and corrupt" 
 
 This verdict was of course an acquittal, but the 
 Recorder refused to receive it; whereupon the jury 
 " turned their backs upon themselves," and having 
 first declared on their oaths that she was not guilty 
 of willful and corrupt perjury, declared on the same 
 oaths that she nets. And to complete the mass of 
 absurdity and contradiction, some of the jury after 
 wards made an affidavit that they believed Can 
 ning s story in the main, but found her guilty be 
 cause they thought there was some discrepancy as 
 to the day on which she had exhausted her pitcher 
 of water. 
 
 Of the court, which, as then constituted, consisted 
 of a mixed body of judges and city magistrates, nine 
 members were for condemning the prisoner to trans 
 portation for seven years, and eight for inflicting 
 only a short period of imprisonment, so evenly were 
 opinions divided. She was accordingly transported. 
 The sympathy and compassion which had been ex 
 cited by her case did not cease. A considerable 
 sum of money was collected for her. After the ter 
 mination of her sentence she returned to England, 
 and the last notice we find of her is the following, 
 which is contained in the " Annual Register " for 
 1761, p. 179: "Elizabeth Canning is arrived in 
 
36 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 England, and received a legacy of 500, left her 
 three years ago by an old lady of Newington Green." 
 Wells returned to Enfield, where she died, as ap 
 pears by the parish register, on the 5th of October, 
 1763. What became of the gipsy we know not. 
 Thus ends the case of Elizabeth Canning a case 
 eminently fitted to give occasion to the wannest, 
 most eager, and most confident partisanship, inas 
 much as it is almost impossible, after the coolest and 
 most deliberate examination, to say to which side 
 the balance of evidence inclines. 
 
II. 
 
 THE CAMPDEN 
 
 The little market-town of Chipping-Cainpden lies 
 on the verge of the Cotswold Hills. It is a quaint 
 old place, formed of one straggling street of low- 
 gabled houses, with an ancient market-house in the 
 middle. The ruins of Campden House, built in the 
 year 1612 by Sir Baptist Hickes, (the princely mer 
 chant who erected Hickes Hall, and gave it to the 
 county of Middlesex) remain a monument of the 
 loyalty of his grandson, Baptist Lord Noel, who 
 burnt his magnificent mansion to prevent it from 
 falling into the hands of the Parliament troops. 
 
 Railroads have only lately traversed this out-of- 
 the-way part of England. It is not on the. high-road 
 to anywhere, and though the country around possess 
 es beauties peculiarly its own, it has never been fre 
 quented by tourists. It is best known by the love 
 which Shakespeare evidently bore to it. There can 
 be no doubt that it was the haunt of his boyhood. 
 When Slender taunts Master Page by telling him 
 that he hears his " fallow greyhound was outrun on 
 Cotswold," we may be sure that many a course on 
 those wide and then open downs must have risen to 
 Shakespeare s recollection. It is here, too, that he 
 places that pleasant arbor in Justice Shallow s 
 orchard, where he ate " a last year s pippen of his 
 own grafting, with a dish of carraways, and so forth," 
 
 PUZZLES 4. [ 37 ] 
 
JUDICIAL TUZZLES. 
 
 with Falstaff and his " cousin Silence." It was " a 
 goodly dwelling and a rich." Cousin Silence was, 
 we have no doubt, a Campden manj and trolled out 
 liis fragments of carols at the little bowling-green 
 there. Shakespeare tells us that he was a towns 
 man. " Is old Double of your town living yet ? " 
 Old Double, who is immortal because he died. " See, 
 see ! he drew a good bow. And dead ! he shot a 
 fine shoot. John of Gaunt loved him well, and bet 
 ted much money on his head. Dead ! How a score 
 of good ewes now? And is old Double dead?" 
 
 He probably acquired the skill as an archer, which 
 endeared him to " John of Gaunt," at those games 
 on Dover s Hill, in the immediate neighborhood, 
 which were celebrated by Ben Jonson, and which 
 were held there annually until a few years ago. 
 " Will Squele," too, was a " Cotswold man." Shake 
 speare must have loved the place, or he never would 
 have coined so endearing a name. Who has not a 
 kindly feeling towards Will Squele? The com 
 mentators have puzzled themselves greatly after 
 their usual fashion, and have devised ingenious and 
 improbable reasons why Falstaff s tailor should be 
 one " Master Dombledon." They have sought for 
 abstruse meanings in the name, stupidly fancying 
 that it was originally written Doublcdonc, and im 
 plied a double charge. It is simply the name of a 
 hill a few miles beyond Campden, and the use of it 
 affords an additional proof of Shakespeare s familiar 
 ity with the country. 
 
 This little town was, in the year 1GGO, the scene 
 of a tragedy so extraordinary that it is still remem 
 bered by the name of "The Campden Wonder." 
 
THE CAMPDEX WONDER. 39 
 
 On the 16th of August in that year, an old man 
 of the name of William Harrison, who was stew 
 ard to Lady Campden, and resided in the part of 
 Campden House which still remained habitable, 
 went on foot to Charringworth, a village about two 
 miles distant, to receive some rents. He did not 
 return so soon as was expected, and his wife, feeling 
 some alarm at his absence, sent his servant, John 
 Perry, to meet him, about eight or nine o clock. 
 Neither Perry nor his master returning that night, 
 the son of the latter set out early in the morning in 
 search of his father. On his way towards Charring 
 worth he met Perry, who told him that his father 
 was not at that place, and they went together in 
 search of him to Ebrington, (a village between 
 Campden and Charringworth) where they were in 
 formed that Harrison had called the evening before 
 at the house of a man of the name of Daniel, on his 
 return from Charringworth, but had almost imme 
 diately proceeded on his way towards Campden. 
 This was the last they could hear of the old man. 
 But in the meantime a hat and comb, much hacked 
 and cut, and a band stained with blood, which was 
 recognized as having been worn by him on that 
 night, were found in a wild spot, near a large furze 
 brake, between Ebrington and Campden. The re 
 port immediately, and very naturally, arose that 
 Mr. Harrison had been waylaid, robbed, and mur 
 dered, and the whole population of the town 
 turned out to search for his body. Their search was 
 in vain no trace of it could be discovered. Suspi 
 cion fell upon John Perry. The spot where the 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
40 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 hat was found was just where he would have been 
 likely to have met him on his return. He knew 
 that he was going to receive a considerable sum of 
 money. His master had left Ebrington safe. Per 
 ry s absence during the whole of the night was sus 
 picious. The natural thing would have been, had 
 he failed to meet his master, to have returned at 
 once to Campden. He was taken into custody, and 
 the next day was brought before a justice of peace. 
 The account he gave was, that he had started on his 
 way towards Charringworth immediately upon re 
 ceiving his mistress orders to do so ; that after go 
 ing a short distance, he met a man of -the name of 
 Reed, and, feeling afraid to go on in the dark, had 
 returned with him to Campden ; that he had started 
 again with one Pearce, and, after going a short dis 
 tance, had again returned. That he then went into 
 the hen-roost, Avherc he remained till about twelve 
 o clock, when, the moon having risen, he took cour 
 age and again set out ; but a mist rising, he lost his 
 way, and lay under a hedge till morning, when he 
 went on to Charringworth, and inquired for his mas 
 ter of one Edward Plaistercr, who told him that he 
 had paid him twenty- three pounds the afternoon pre 
 vious. That he made further inquiries, but without 
 success ; and on his return home, about five o clock 
 in the morning, met his master s son. This account, 
 which was confirmed by the three men he referred 
 to, was not considered satisfactory, and, after re 
 maining in custody about a week, Perry expressed 
 a desire to be taken before the justice, to whom he 
 said he Avould disclose what he would discover to 
 no one else. 
 
THE CAMPDEX WOXDEK. 41 
 
 He then said that, ever since he had been in his 
 master s service, his mother and his brother had 
 been urging him to join them in robbing him. That 
 their scheme was to waylay him on his return from 
 receiving the rents. That he had accordingly in 
 formed his brother, on the morning of the day when 
 Mr. Harrison went to Charringworth, of the errand 
 upon which he had gone. That on the same even 
 ing, immediately after he had received his mistress 
 orders, he met his brother, and they went together 
 towards Charringworth. That he watched his mas 
 ter, on his return, go into a field called the Cony- 
 gree, through which a private path, which he was 
 in the habit of using, led to his house. That he 
 told his brother that " if he followed him he might 
 have his money, and he in the meantime would 
 walk a turn in the fields." That soon afterwards, 
 following his brother, he found his master on the 
 ground in the middle of the field, his brother 
 upon him, and his mother standing by. That his 
 master was not then dead, for he exclaimed, " Ah, 
 rogues! will you kill me?" That he begged his 
 brother not to kill him; but he replied, "Peace, 
 peace ! you are a fool " and strangled him. That 
 his brother took a bag of money out of his master s 
 pocket, and threw it into his mother s lap ; that they 
 then carried the body into the garden, intending to 
 throw it into a large sink ; that he left it in the gar 
 den, and went to watch and listen, whilst, as he be 
 lieved, his mother and brother put the body into 
 the sink ; but whether they did so or not he could 
 not positively say. That going back into the town he 
 
42 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 met PcurcG, and wont with him towards Chtirring- 
 wortli, as he had before stated. That he then re 
 turned to the hen-roost, and taking his master s hat, 
 band, and comb, he cut them with his knife, and 
 threw them in the road where they were found. 
 
 Upon this, strict searcli was made for the body, 
 not only in the place which Perry had mentioned, 
 but in all ponds in the neighborhood, and amongst 
 the ruins of Campden House but in vain. Joan 
 and Richard Perry, the mother and brother of John, 
 were taken into custody. They vehemently pro 
 tested their innocence, and upbraided John for his 
 falsehood. He still, however, stuck to his story, 
 and retorted upon them with bitter reproaches for 
 having urged him to the commission of so horrible 
 a crime affirming that he had spoken nothing but 
 the truth, and declaring that he was ready to justify 
 it to his death. 
 
 Immediately after the examination of the prison 
 ers before the magistrate, a very remarkable cir 
 cumstance occurred. They were removed sepa 
 rately, and of course in custody, John being some 
 distance in advance of Richard. The latter, " pull 
 ing a clout out of his pocket, dropped a ball of 
 inkle, which one of his guard taking up, he desired 
 him to restore, saying it was only his wife s hair- 
 lace." The constable, finding a noose at the end of 
 it, and feeling some suspicion, took it to John and 
 asked him if he knew anything of it, on which John 
 shook his head and said, "Yea, to his sorrow; for 
 that was the string /us Irotlier strangled Jus master 
 with? 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDEE. 43 
 
 Unfortunately, the only narrative which exists of 
 this singular case diverges at this point into mat 
 ters irrelevant to the main issue ; but at the spring 
 assizes following, after an interval of something 
 more than six months, the three Perrys were tried 
 for the murder. Up to this time, John Perry had 
 persisted in his story. On the trial, however, he, 
 like his mother and brother, pleaded not guilty, and 
 when his confession was proved, alleged that he 
 was "then mad, and knew not what he said." 
 
 We are left in ignorance what evidence, beyond 
 the confession of John, was produced at the trial. 
 That there must have been some is clear, as that 
 confession, though evidence against John, was none 
 against his mother or Richard. All three were 
 convicted, and a few days afterwards hanged, on 
 Broadway Hill, within sight of the . town of 
 Campden. 
 
 As Joan Perry was suspected to be a witch, and 
 was supposed to have bewitched her sons so as to 
 prevent them from confessing, she was hanged first. 
 "After which, Richard, being upon the ladder, pro 
 fessed, as he had done all along, that he was wholly 
 innocent of the fact for which he was then to die ; 
 and that he knew nothing of Mr. Harrison s death, 
 nor what was become of him ; and did with great 
 earnestness beg and beseech his brother (for the 
 satisfaction of the whole world and his own con 
 science) to declare what he knew concerning him ; 
 but he, with a dogged and surly carriage, told the 
 people he was not obliged to confess to them; 
 yet immediately before his death he said he knew 
 
44 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 nothing of his master s death, nor what was become 
 of him, but they might hereafter possibly hear." 
 
 John Perry was hanged in chains upon a gibbet 
 placed on the Broadway Hill. 
 
 Some years afterwards Mr. Harrison returned to 
 Campden. The account he gave of the cause of 
 liis disappearance, and of his adventures during the 
 period of his absence, in a letter to Sir Thomas 
 Overbury of Bourton, (the nephew and heir of the 
 unhappy victim of the infamous Countess of Somer 
 set) is so curious that we give it entire/* 
 
 " HONORED SIR : In obedience to your com 
 mands, I give you this true account of my being 
 carried away beyond the seas, my continuance there, 
 and return home. On a Thursday, in the after 
 noon, in the time of harvest, I went to Charring- 
 worth to demand rents, due to my Lady Campden ; 
 at which time the tenants were busy in the fields, 
 and late ere they came home, which occasioned my 
 stay there till the close of the evening. I expected 
 a considerable sum, but received only tlirec-and- 
 twenty pounds, and no more. In my return home 
 (in the narrow passage, amongst Ebrington furzes) 
 there met me one horseman, and said, Art thou 
 there ? and I, fearing that he would have rid over 
 me, struck his horse over the nose; whereupon 
 he struck at me with his sword several blows, and 
 ran it into my side, while I (with my little cane) 
 made my defense as well as I could. At last 
 another came behind me, run me into the thigh, 
 laid hold on the collar of iny doublet, and drew 
 
 *14 State Trials, 1313 note to the case of Captain Green. 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDEE. 45 
 
 me to a hedge near the place; then came in an 
 other. They did not take my money, but mounted 
 me behind one of them, drew my arms about 
 his middle, and fastened my wrists together with 
 something that had a spring-lock to it, as I con 
 ceived, by hearing it give a snap as they put it on ; 
 then they threw a great cloak over me, and conveyed 
 me away. In the night they alighted at a hay-rick 
 which stood near unto a stone pit by a wall-side, 
 where they took away my money. About two 
 hours before day (as I heard one of them tell the 
 other he thought it to be then) they tumbled me 
 into the stone pit. They stayed (as I thought) 
 about an hour at the hay-rick, when they took horse 
 again. One of them bade me come out of the pit ; 
 I answered they had my money already, and asked 
 what they would do with me ; whereupon he struck 
 me again, drew me out, and pnt a great quantity of 
 money into my pockets, and mounted me again after 
 the same manner ; and on the Friday, about sunset- 
 ting, they brought me to a lone house upon a heath 
 (by a thicket of bushes) where they took me down 
 almost dead, being sorely bruised with the carriage 
 of the money. When the woman of the house saw 
 that I could neither stand nor speak, she asked them 
 whether or no they had brought a dead man ? They 
 answered no, but a friend that was hurt, and they 
 were carrying him to a chirurgeon. She answered, 
 if they did not make haste, their friend would be 
 dead before they could bring him to one. Then 
 they laid me on cushions, and suffered none to come 
 into the room but a little girl. There we stayed all 
 
46 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 night, they giving me some broth and strong waters ; 
 and in the morning, very early, they mounted me 
 as before, and on Saturday night they brought me 
 to a place where were two or three houses, in one 
 of which I lay all night on cushions by their bedside. 
 On Sunday morning they carried me from thence, 
 and about three or four o clock they brought me to 
 a place by the sea-side, called Deal, where they laid 
 me down on the ground ; and one of them staying 
 by me, the other two walked a little off to meet a 
 man, with whom they talked, and in their discourse 
 I heard them mention seven pounds ; after which 
 they went away together, and about half an hour 
 after returned. The man (whose name, as I after 
 heard, was Wrenshaw) said he feared I would die 
 before he could get me on board. Then presently 
 they put me into a boat, and carried me on ship 
 board, where my wounds were dressed. I remained 
 in the ship (as near as I could reckon) about six- 
 weeks, in which time I was indifferently recovered 
 of my wounds and weakness. Then the master of 
 the ship came and told me (and the rest who were 
 in the same condition) that he discovered three 
 Turkish ships. We all offered to fight in the de 
 fense of the ship and ourselves, but lie commanded 
 us to keep close, and said he would deal with them 
 well enough. A little while after he called us up, 
 and when we came on the deck we saw two Turkish 
 ships close by us ; into one of them we were put, 
 and placed in a dark hole, where how long we con 
 tinued before we landed, I know not. When we 
 were landed they led us two days journey, and put 
 
THE CAMPDEX WOXDEK. 47 
 
 us into a great house or prison, where we remained 
 four days and a half ; and then came to us eight men 
 to view us, who seemed to be officers ; they called 
 us, and examined us of our trades and callings, 
 which every one answered. One said he was a 
 chirurgeon, another that he was a broadcloth weaver, 
 and I (after two or three demands) said I had some 
 skill in physic. We three were set by, and taken 
 by three of those eight men that came to view us. 
 It was my chance to be chosen by a grave physician 
 of eighty-seven years of age, who lived near Smyrna, 
 who had formerly been in England, and knew Crow- 
 land in Lincolnshire, which he preferred before all 
 other places in England. He employed me to keep 
 his still-house, and gave me a silver bowl, double 
 gilt, to drink in. My business was most in that 
 place ; but once he set me to gather cotton wool, 
 which I not doing to his mind, he struck me down 
 to the ground, and after drew his stiletto to stab 
 me ; but I, holding up my hands to him, he gave 
 a stamp, and turned from me, for which I render 
 thanks to my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who 
 stayed his hand and preserved me. I was there 
 about a year and three-quarters, and then my master 
 fell sick on a Thursday, and sent for me, and calling 
 me, as he used, by the name of Boll, told me he 
 should die, and bade me shift for myself. He died 
 on Saturday following, and I presently hastened 
 with my bowl to a port almost a day s journey dis 
 tant, the way to which place I knew, having been 
 twice there, employed by my master about the car 
 riage of his cotton wool. When I came thither, I 
 
48 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 addressed myself to two men who came out of a 
 ship of Hamborough, which (as they said) was 
 bound for Portugal within three or four days. I 
 inquired of them for an English ship ; they answered, 
 there was none. I entreated them to take me into 
 their ship ; they answered, they durst not, for fear 
 of being discovered by the searchers, which might 
 occasion the forfeiture, not only of their goods, but 
 also of their lives. I was very importunate with 
 them, but could not prevail ; they left me to wait 
 on Providence, which at length brought another out 
 of the same ship, to whom I made known my con 
 dition, craving his assistance for my transportation ; 
 lie made me the like answer as the former, and was 
 as stiff in his denial, till the sight of my bowl put 
 him to a pause. He returned to the ship, and after 
 half an hour s space he came back again, accom 
 panied with another seaman, and for my bowl un 
 dertook to transport me ; but told me I must be 
 contented to lie down in the keel, and endure much 
 hardship, which I was content to do, to gain my 
 liberty. So they took me aboard, and placed me 
 below in the vessel, in a very uneasy place, and 
 obscured me with boards and other things, where I 
 lay undiscovered, notwithstanding the strict search 
 that was made in the vessel. My two chapmen, 
 who had my bowl, honestly furnished me with 
 victuals daily until we arrived at Lisbon, in Port 
 ugal, where (as soon as the master had left the ship, 
 and was gone into the city) they set me on shore, 
 moneyless, to shift for myself. I knew not what 
 course to take, but, as Providence led me, I went 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDER. 49 
 
 up into the city, and came into a fair street ; and 
 being weary, I turned my back to a wall, and leaned 
 upon my staff. Over against me were four gentle 
 men discoursing together. After a while, one of 
 them came to me, and spake to me in a language 
 that I understood not. I told him I was an English 
 man, and understood not what he spake. He an 
 swered me in plain English, that he understood me, 
 and was himself born near Wisbech, in Lincolnshire * 
 then I related to him. my sad condition; and he, 
 taking compassion on me, took me with him, pro 
 vided for me lodging and diet, and by his interest 
 with a master of a ship bound for England, procured 
 my passage ; and bringing me on shipboard, he be 
 stowed wine and strong waters on me, and, at his 
 return, gave me eight stivers, and commended me 
 to the care of the master of the ship, who landed 
 me safe at Dover, from whence I made shift to get 
 to London, where, being furnished with necessaries, 
 I came into the country. 
 
 " Thus, honored sir, I have given you a true ac 
 count of my sufferings, and happy deliverance by 
 the mercy and goodness of God, my most gracious 
 Father in Jesus Christ, my Saviour and Redeemer, 
 to whose name be ascribed all honor, praise, and 
 glory. I conclude, and rest, your worships, in all 
 dutiful respect, WILLIAM HARRISON." 
 
 It is difficult to say what amount of credence 
 should be given to this extraordinary narrative. 
 On the one hand it appears impossible to assign a 
 sufficient motive for kidnapping the old man. The 
 
 TCZZLES 5. 
 
50 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 persons who attacked him would have been exposed 
 to far less danger of detection had they either mur 
 dered him at once, or left him to take his chance of 
 life in the stone pit after the robbery ; and much 
 profit was not likely to accrue from the sale of the 
 old man as a slave. On the other hand, it must be 
 remembered that the country was at that time in a 
 disturbed state, and that the risk of detection must 
 not be estimated by what it would be at the present 
 day ; that kidnapping was not an uncommon crime ; 
 and that no other mode of accounting for Harrison s 
 disappearance has ever been suggested. But be 
 this story true or not, the fact that he had not been 
 murdered is unquestionable. The innocence of the 
 Pcrrys of the crime for which they had suffered 
 death was established beyond the possibility of 
 doubt ; and we have to deal with the fact, a start 
 ling one certainly, that John Perry not only sacri 
 ficed the lives of two persons with whom he was 
 closely connected, but his own also, to a falsehood 
 which he had no motive whatever for committing. 
 This opens one of the darkest and strangest pages 
 in the history of human nature. There can be no 
 doubt that he was a victim of that remarkable form 
 of mental disease which induces the sufferer to 
 charge himself and others with imaginary crimes 
 a malady far more common than ordinary observers 
 suppose. From the earliest periods as to which we 
 have any records, down to the present day, this ter 
 rible disease has from time to time presented itself 
 under various forms. The purest minds and the 
 highest intellects have suffered from it no less than 
 
THE CAMPDEX WONDER. 51 
 
 the ignorant and the degraded. Indeed, it would 
 seem as if those minds which are most delicately 
 strung, and tuned to the most refined sensibility, 
 are peculiarly liable to its attack. Few men prob 
 ably have led so pure and innocent a life, or one 
 which afforded so little ground for self-reproval, as 
 the poet Cowper; yet he has told us that "the 
 sense of sin and the expectation of punishment," 
 the " feeling that he had committed a crime " he 
 knew not what was ever present to his mind. 
 
 There is one incident of this disease, with regard 
 to which those who (as has been the case with our 
 selves in more instances than one) are brought into 
 contact with the sufferer, should be especially upon 
 their guard. So thoroughly is he convinced of the 
 truth of his story, he narrates it with such earnest 
 ness and simplicity, that unless some circumstance 
 has occurred to put the listener upon his guard, it 
 is next to impossible for him to refuse his assent to 
 its truth. As one, who has left a record of the im 
 pressions produced on his own mind during the 
 prevalence of delusion, has told us, " of the two, the 
 appearance of the bed, walls, and furniture of his 
 room was false, not his preternatural impressions,"* 
 it follows, from this strong internal conviction, that 
 nothing surprises or startles the sufferers. When 
 John Perry was shown the cord which fell from his 
 brother s pocket, had he been fabricating a story he 
 would have paused to consider what he should say, 
 and would very probably have been betrayed into a 
 
 * Narrative of tlie Treatment of a Gentleman during Derangement, 
 03. 1838. 
 
52 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 contradiction or an inconsistency. But his diseased 
 imagination at once seized upon the circumstance 
 as food for the delusion with which his mind was 
 impressed, and wove it into the narrative in a man 
 ner which bore the closest possible resemblance to 
 actual truth, because to his mind it was truth. 
 
 A case which, in some of its features, bore a 
 striking resemblance to that of the Perrys, is re 
 corded as having happened in the neighborhood of 
 Calais, nearly a century earlier. 
 
 A woman disappeared, and suspicion arose that 
 she had been made away with. A man was found 
 lurking in a wood in the neighborhood, and, be 
 traying symptoms of fear and apprehension, he was 
 arrested on suspicion of having murdered her, 
 confessed the crime, and A^as executed. In two 
 years the woman returned. The heir of the un 
 happy sufferer sued the judge who had condemned 
 him for damages. They ought not, it was argued, 
 to have condemned any one for the murder until 
 the body had been found, or its absence satisfac 
 torily accounted for ; in other words, until the cor 
 pus delicti had been proved* -a principle well 
 known to our law, and acted upon, in the first in 
 stance, in the case of the Perrys, whom Sir Christo 
 pher Turner refused to try at the assizes immedi 
 ately following their apprehension, on this very 
 ground. How the difficulty was got over after 
 wards does not appear. 
 
 It is like calling up spirits from the dead to open 
 
 * Annseus Robertas, lib. 1, c. iv. 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDER. 53 
 
 the stained and faded pages of the old reporters of 
 the proceedings in the Parliament of Paris, or the 
 equally interesting records of trials in our own 
 country, and to read the harangues of forgotten 
 advocates upon interests long gone by, passions long 
 burnt out, and superstitions which the world has 
 outgrown. Nothing is more curious and interesting 
 than to note how, through each change of circum 
 stance and opinion, the human mind remains the 
 same, and to observe the mode in which its delu 
 sions shape and accommodate themselves to the 
 prevailing belief of the day, or the particular cir 
 cumstances by which the patient is surrounded. 
 
 In the year 1662, the parish of Aulderne, about 
 midway between Cawdor and Torres, (the scene of 
 Macbeth s interview with the witches) witnessed a 
 very remarkable display of the former kind. " Mas 
 ter Harie Forbes," the minister of the parish, Wil 
 liam Dallas, the Sheriff-Depute, and the other mag 
 nates of the neighborhood, assembled to receive the 
 full and voluntary confession of Isabell Gowdie. 
 This confession is perhaps the most curious docu 
 ment that is to be found relating to the history of 
 witchcraft. We certainly know of none that is so 
 comprehensive. It is a compendium of the learning 
 on that very curious subject, and it is especially 
 valuable for the internal evidence which it contains, 
 that it was voluntary and sincere so minute, par 
 ticular, and earnest is it, that even now it is diffi 
 cult to keep in mind that it was merely the creation 
 of a diseased brain. 
 
 Isabell first met the devil accidentally between 
 
54 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 the farmlands of Drumdewin and llic sea-shore, but 
 he prevailed upon her to give him an assignation at 
 night in the kirk of Aldcrne. There they met, Isa- 
 bell being accompanied by a confidant, one Mar 
 garet Brodie. The devil mounted the reader s desk, 
 with a black book in his hand. Isabell renounced 
 her baptism, and putting one hand on the top of 
 her head, and the other on the sole of her fool, 
 made over all between them to the arch-enemy, 
 who thereupon baptized her afresh in his own name. 
 Nothing more occurred at this interview, but it was 
 not long before a second took place, the details of 
 which we must pass over. Isabell was now wholly 
 given up to the devil, and she and her neighbors 
 were employed by him in the commission of crimes 
 of different kinds, up to murder itself. She enu 
 merates those who constituted her company or 
 " covin," to use the technical name ; and, curiously 
 enough, the truth of her confessions is confirmed by 
 one at least of her supposed accomplices. There is 
 a wild and picturesque imagination about Isabell 
 Gowdie s confessions, which is not often found in 
 such details. When she describes the mode that 
 was adopted to take away the fruit of the land, she 
 rivals the grotesque power of Callot. 
 
 " Before Candlemas," she says, " we Avent by East 
 Kinloss, and then we yoked a plewghc of paddokis.* 
 The divill held the plcwgho, and John Younge in 
 Mebestone, our officer did dry we the pkvwghe. 
 Paddokis did draw the plewghc as oxen; quick- 
 ensf were somes ; $ a riglan s horn was a cowter ; 
 
 * Frogs. t Twitch, couclLgruss. J Traces. A ridgel rum. 
 
THE CAMPDEN WOXDEK. 55 
 
 and a piece of a riglan s horn was a sok. We went 
 two several times about ; and all we of the covin 
 went still up and downe with the plewghe praying 
 to the devil for the fruit of that land, and that this 
 tles and briers might grow there." 
 
 She visited Fairyland, like Thomas the Rhymer. 
 The Queen of Faerie was " brawli clothed in whyte 
 linens," and the King of Faerie was a "braw man, 
 weill-favored and broad-faced," but she was " af 
 frighted by the elf bulls, which went up and downe 
 thair rowtting and skoylling " ; and her information 
 as to that terra incognita is but scanty. 
 
 Isabel! s confession occupied four days. She gives 
 at length the uncouth rhymes by means of which 
 tempests were raised, which enabled her to fly 
 through the air on storms, to change her form for 
 that of a bird, a cat, a hare, or any other animal at 
 will. Her amours with the devil she details with 
 marvelous particularity, and recounts one by one 
 the murders she had committed at his instigation, 
 
 O 
 
 when she breaks out into this passionate exclama 
 tion : " Alace ! I deserve not to be sitting hier, for I 
 have done so manie evill deedis, especially killing of 
 men, I deserve to be rievin upon irin harrowes, and 
 worse if it could be devisit ! " To the horror of 
 "Master Harie Forbes," he was himself the subject 
 of these terrible incantations. His life was attempt 
 ed several times. 
 
 " Margaret Brodie shot at Mr. Harie Forbes at 
 the standing-staues, but she missed, and speirit if 
 she should shoot again ? And the devil said, N"ot ! 
 for we Avoid nocht get his lyfe at that tyme. We 
 
5G JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 intcritit several tymes for him quhan he was seik. 
 Bessie Hay, Jean Martin the maiden, Bessie Wilson, 
 Margaret Brodie, Elspeth Ncshie, and I myself, met 
 in Bessie Wilsones hows, and maid an bag against 
 him. The bag was maid of the flesh, guttis, and 
 gallis of toadis, the liewer of an hear, pickles of 
 corn, and pairingis of naillis of fingers and toes. 
 We steepit all night among water. The divill 
 learned us to saye the wordis following at the mak 
 ing of the bag : 
 
 " He is lying on his bedel, and he is seik and sair, 
 
 Let him ly intill that budd monethes two and dayes thrie mair. 
 
 He sal ly intill his bedd, he sal be seik and sair, 
 
 He sal ly intill his bedd monethes two and dayes thrie mair. 
 
 And quhan we haid said thes wordis, we wer al on 
 our kneyis, our hair abowt our shoulderis and eyes, 
 holding up our handis to the divill that it might 
 destroy the said Mr. Haric. It was intendit that 
 we, coming into his chalmer in the night-tym, sould 
 swing it on him. And becaus we prevailed not at 
 that tym, Bessie Hay undertook and cam into his 
 chalmer to wisit him, being werie intimat with him, 
 and she brought in of the bag in her handis full of 
 the oil thereof, to have swowng and casten droppis 
 of it on him ; but there were some uther worthie 
 persons with him at the tym, by quhich God pre 
 vented Bessie Hay that she gat no harm don to 
 him, but swang a litl of it on the bed quhair he 
 lay." * 
 
 The confessions conclude with a minute account 
 
 * Isabell Gowdie s fourth confession. 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDEE. 57 
 
 of making the image of a child of clay : " It wanted 
 110 mark of the image of a bairn, eyes, nose, mouth, 
 litle lippes, and the hands of it folded down by its 
 sydis." 
 
 Whilst the clay which formed the image was 
 kneaded, the devil sat on a black " kist," and Isabell 
 and her companions chanted the following rhyme : 
 
 " We put this water among this meall, 
 For long dwying and ill heall ; 
 We put it in intill the fyr, 
 To burn them up both stik and stour, 
 That he burnt with our will, 
 As onie stikill on an kill." 
 
 This image represented the child of the Laird of 
 Parkis, "As it was rosted eche other day at the 
 fyr, som tymes on pairt of it, somtymes another, 
 the bairn would be burnt and rosten, even as it 
 was." " Each day we wold water it, and then rost 
 and bak it, and turn it at the fyr, each other day, 
 till that bairn died, and then lay it up, and steired 
 it not until the next bairn was borne; and then 
 within half an yeir efter that bairne was borne, we 
 would take it out of the cradle, and bak it and rost 
 it at the fyr, until that bairn died also.* 
 
 " All this and a great manie mor terrible things 
 the said witnesses and notar heard the said Isabell 
 confes, and most willingly and penitently speak 
 furth of her own mouth." 
 
 The record is imperfect, but there seems no 
 reason to doubt that Isabell Gowdie and Janet 
 Breadheid suffered at the stake. 
 
 * Confession of Janet Breadheid. See Pitcairn s Criminal Trials, 
 iii, app. vii. 
 
58 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 The conviction of guilt was impressed upon their 
 minds us vividly as it was upon that of John Perry, 
 nor can we wonder at the eagerness with which 
 Master Ilarie Forbes and his confederates pursued 
 these unhappy women to the death. Sir George 
 Mackenzie observes, that in these cases " the accus 
 ers are masters or neighbors who had their children 
 dead, and are engaged by grief to suspect these 
 poor creatures. I knew" (he says) "one burnt 
 because a lady was jealous of her with her husband ; 
 and the crime is so odious that they are never 
 assisted or defended by their relations. The Avit-- 
 nesses and assizes are afraid that if they escape they 
 will die for it, and therefore they take an unwarrant 
 able latitude. And I have observed that scarce 
 ever any who were accused before a country assize 
 of neighbors did escape that trial." ^ 
 
 We are past the age for belief in witchcraft, but 
 the diseased imagination which formerly manifested 
 itself in the wild delusions of poor Isabell Gowdie, 
 now forms for itself a creation far more dangerous, 
 because its phantoms arc reconcilable with the 
 ordinary experience of the world. Within the last 
 two years the courts at Westminster were occupied 
 for many days in the investigation of a charge of a 
 most serious nature, brought against a physician by 
 the husbaiid of one of his patients.f The lady kept 
 a journal, in which she noted down with the utmost 
 minuteness the rise, progress, and entire history of 
 
 * Mackenzie s Works, ii, 87. 
 
 t Robinson v. llobinson and Lane ; Divorce Court, June 11, 1858, to 
 March 2, 1859. See Times, July 6, 1858. 
 
THE CAMPDEX WOXDER. 59 
 
 an overwhelming and passionate attachment be 
 tween herself and the doctor. This journal came to 
 the husband s hands. The explosion may be imag 
 ined. The husband very naturally instituted pro 
 ceedings for a divorce. When the trial came on, 
 the journal, consisting of three bulky volumes, and 
 extending over a period of five years, was produced. 
 Nothing could be clearer, more explicit, or more 
 astounding, than the disclosures it contained. But 
 there was not a particle of confirmatory evidence to 
 support any one of them ; and it was established 
 beyond a doubt that the lady, though apparently 
 conducting herself like other people, and giving no 
 external sign of disordered intellect, was upon this 
 particular subject altogether insane ; that the doctor 
 was innocent throughout the affair, and wholly un 
 conscious that he had for years been made the hero 
 of a romance rivaling the adventures of Faublas. 
 This disease sometimes assumes a form even more 
 dangerous than that of self-accusation. A crime is 
 committed, or supposed to have been committed. 
 The details of an inquiry of an exciting nature fill 
 the columns of the press. Presently the imagina 
 tion fastens upon the circumstances as they are 
 gradually revealed, and the unfortunate patient 
 fancies that he has been a witness of the whole 
 transaction, comes forward believing that he is dis 
 charging an imperative duty, and with all the clear 
 ness, coolness, and certainty which characterize 
 truth, depones to the creation of his heated brain. 
 A case of this kind occurred at the winter assizes 
 at Stafford, in the year 1857. 
 
60 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 The body of a girl named Elizabeth Hopley was 
 found in the canal at Bradley, early on the morning 
 of the 30th of April. There were no marks of vio 
 lence. About ten o clock on the previous evening 
 she had left the house of her aunt for the purpose 
 of going to the place where a young man, to whom 
 she was engaged to be married, was in the habit of 
 working. Her road led past the place where her 
 body was found, and it was supposed that, dazzled 
 by the light of some coke-fires, she had missed her 
 way, and fallen over the low wall by which the canal 
 was, at that spot, very insufficiently guarded. About 
 three weeks, however, after the girl s death, a neigh 
 bor, of the name of Samuel Wall, declared that 
 Elizabeth Hopley had been murdered, and that he 
 had been present when the crime was committed. 
 A day or two afterwards he was summoned before 
 the magistrates, when he told the following story. 
 lie said that on the night of the 29th of April he 
 was on duty as a private watchmen on some prem 
 ises near a bridge which crossed the railway ; that 
 lie saw two persons, a man and a woman, on the 
 bridge, and heard a woman s voice say, "Philip, 
 don t kill me ! You said you would kill me before ! " 
 That the man then raised his hand and struck the 
 woman a violent blow on the head, which knocked 
 her down. Upon this he went up, and instantly 
 recognized the man as one Philip Clare, whom lie 
 well knew. He exclaimed, " Philip, you ll have to 
 suffer for this ! " Clare turned round and replied, 
 " If you speak, I ll serve you the same ! " Clare 
 then lifted the young woman up from the ground, 
 
THE CAMPDEX 
 
 and, followed by Wall, carried her over the railway 
 bridge, and down a road past some cottages, until 
 he came to the canal. Here he paused, and turning 
 round again upon Wall, said, " Xow, if you speak 
 or tell any one, I will kill you. I will serve you 
 the same way as I served her, and set some one else 
 to watch instead." He then, in Wall s presence, 
 plunged the woman, who still seemed helpless and 
 insensible, into the canal, close to the spot where, 
 the next morning, her body was discovered. 
 
 Wall fixed the time when this occurred as twenty 
 minutes after midnight ; and it must be remarked 
 that he was employed as a watchman, and was like 
 ly to be habitually observant of the time. 
 
 He said that he returned to his employer s prem 
 ises, being prevented by his fear of Clare from giv 
 ing any alarm ; that after about a quarter of an 
 hour had elapsed, Clare came to him and renewed 
 his threats, when, terrified by the apprehension of 
 immediate violence, he locked himself up in the 
 engine-house until daylight. 
 
 Upon this statement, Clare was taken into cus 
 tody, and committed for trial. At his trial Wall 
 repeated the story he had told the magistrates. 
 There was a total absence of confirmation. It was 
 met by proof that the body showed no sign of hav 
 ing received any blow of the kind described by 
 Wall ; that there had been men at work pumping 
 water during the whole night in the immediate 
 neighborhood, who must, in all probability, have 
 heard something, had the affair taken place as Wall 
 described. It was shown, moreover, that from half- 
 
 PTZZLES 6. 
 
62 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 past six nntil about eleven P. M., Clare had been in 
 a public-house at Bilston, which he left, in company 
 with four other men, one of whom accompanied 
 him till within half a mile of his own house. An 
 other witness, a neighbor, proved that about twelve 
 o clock he met Clare, and entered into conversation 
 with him near his own door ; that they remained 
 together until two o clock next morning. There 
 could not be the slightest doubt of Clare s inno 
 cence, and the jury, of course, at once acquitted 
 him. Nor could there be any doubt that Wall be 
 lieved the story told. The minuteness, the particu 
 larity, the graphic details, the conversation, all bear 
 the stamp of that subjective truth, which our lan 
 guage has no word to distinguish from objective 
 truth. It is curious to observe in how many res 
 pects this case resembles that of John Perry. In 
 both there was a period of incubation, during which 
 the mind brooded in silence over its creations ; in 
 both the accuser professed to have been present, and 
 thus a participant, though in different degrees, in 
 the crime. In both the conversations with the sup 
 posed murderer are minutely detailed ; in both the 
 tale is solemnly repeated, consistently, and without 
 variation, at considerable intervals of time, and sub 
 ject to the test of judicial examination. 
 
 A case even more remarkable occurred shortly 
 before the one we have just referred to. 
 
 A gentleman of high social position instituted pro 
 ceedings against his wife with the view of obtaining 
 a divorce. 
 
 The innocence of the lady was strongly asserted 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDER. 63 
 
 and firmly believed. Counter-charges of conspiracy 
 and perjury were brought against the husband and his 
 witnesses. The lady herself was in a state of dis 
 ordered intellect, produced, as was asserted, by the 
 conduct of the husband, which precluded her from 
 taking any part, or affording any assistance towards 
 her own defense, which, however, was vigorously 
 maintained by friends who were firmly convinced 
 that she was wholly innocent. The inquiry lasted 
 for nearly four years, and at length reached the 
 House of Lords, where the case on behalf of the 
 husband had just terminated when Parliament rose 
 for the Easter recess. 
 
 On the House reassembling, there appeared at the 
 bar an elderly and respectable-looking clergyman, 
 who, to the surprise of every one, deposed upon 
 oath that six or seven years before namely, in the 
 month of May or June, in the year 1849 or 50, he 
 could not say which he had been an actual eye 
 witness of the guilt of the lady. He swore that he 
 had never mentioned the circumstance during the 
 six or seven years that had elapsed but to one per 
 son, and that person was dead. He had permitted 
 his daughters and his sister to continue on terms of 
 intimacy with the lady whom he accused. He 
 was unable to fix the time of the occurrence, even 
 as to the year in which it took place, or to state who 
 was the partner in her guilt. Every avenue of con 
 tradiction was thus cut off, and the story was left to 
 stand or fall, according as the respectable character 
 and social position of the witness, and the apparent 
 conviction with which he told his story, or the im- 
 
64 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 probable nature of that story itself, coupled with the 
 fact that during a most searching investigation, car 
 ried on by adverse parties with the utmost eager 
 ness for a period of between four and five years, no 
 circumstance which in the slightest degree corrobo 
 rated that story had ever come to light, might be 
 considered to be entitled to the greater weight. It 
 was not long, however, before the difficulty was 
 solved. Within a few months, the witness who had 
 given this extraordinary history gave himself up to 
 justice, declaring with every expression of contri 
 tion that he had been guilty of forging certain bills 
 of exchange, that they had nearly reached maturity, 
 that he had no means of providing for them, that de 
 tection was inevitable, and that he wished to antici 
 pate the blow, and make such reparation as was in 
 his power by a full acknowledgment of his guilt. 
 Upon investigation, it turned out that there was not 
 the slightest foundation for this story ; no forgery 
 had been committed no such bills of exchange had 
 ever been in existence. His delusion as to his own 
 guilt was as complete as his delusion as to that of 
 the lady against whom he had given evidence, over 
 whose strange history he had no doubt brooded for 
 years, until the thick-coming fancies of his brain as 
 sumed the form and appearance of substantive 
 creations. 
 
 Doctor Southwood Smith, in his " Lcctiires on 
 Forensic Medicine," after observing how common 
 false sclf-inculpativc evidence is, gives some re 
 markable instances in Avhich it has occurred. Of 
 these the following is perhaps the most striking : 
 
THE CAMPDEX WOXDEK. 65 
 
 "In the war of the French Revolution the Iler- 
 mione frigate was commanded by Captain Pigot, a 
 harsh man and a severe commander. His crew mu 
 tinied, and carried the ship into an enemy s port, 
 having murdered the captain and many of the offi 
 cers under circumstances of extreme barbarity. 
 One midshipman escaped, by whom many of the 
 criminals, who were afterwards taken and delivered 
 over to justice one by one, were identified. Mr. 
 Finlaison, the Government actuary, who at that 
 time held an official situation at the Admiralty, 
 states : In my own experience I have known, on 
 separate occasions, more than six sailors who volun 
 tarily confessed to having struck the first blow at 
 Captain Pigot. These men detailed all the horrid 
 circumstances of the mutiny with extreme minute 
 ness and perfect accuracy ; nevertheless, not one of 
 them had ever been in the ship, nor had so much 
 as seen Captain Pigot in their lives. They had 
 obtained, by tradition, from their messmates, the 
 particulars of the story. When long on a foreign 
 station, hungering and thirsting for home, their 
 minds became enfeebled; at length they actually 
 believed themselves guilty of the crime over which 
 they had so long brooded, and submitted Avith a 
 gloomy pleasure to being sent to England in irons 
 for judgment. At the Admiralty we were always 
 able to detect and establish their innocence, in defi 
 ance of their own solemn asseverations. " * 
 
 We are exhausting our space, though not the num 
 ber of instances of a similar description which lie 
 
 * London Medical Gazette, Jan., 1838. 
 
66 JUDICIAL PUZZLES- 
 
 before us, and must content ourselves with one 
 more. 
 
 A magistrate of one of the northern counties of 
 England, well known for his active benevolence, 
 during the discharge of his duty as one of the visit 
 ing justices of the County Lunatic Asylum, entered 
 into conversation with one of the patients, and was 
 much struck with his rational demeanor and sensi 
 ble remarks. The man expressed himself grateful 
 for the kindness with which lie was treated, and 
 said that he was well aware that it was necessary 
 that he should be under restraint ; that although he 
 was perfectly well at that time, he knew that he was 
 at any moment liable to a return of the insanity, 
 during an attack of which he had some years before 
 murdered his wife ; arid that it would be unsafe to 
 permit him to go at large. He then expressed the 
 deepest contrition for his crime ; and after some 
 further conversation the magistrate left him, not 
 doubting the truth of his story. Referring to the 
 case in conversation with the master of the asylum, 
 he expressed much interest, and referred to the 
 patient as " that unhappy criminal lunatic who had 
 murdered his wife "; when to his astonishment, he 
 was informed that the wife was alive and well, and 
 had been to visit her husband only the day before ! 
 
 We cannot conclude our observations on this 
 interesting subject better than in the words of the 
 old jurist Heincccius : * " Confession is sometimes 
 the voice of conscience. Experience, however, 
 teaches us that it is frequently far otherwise. There 
 
 * Exer. 18, G. 
 
THE CAMPDEN WONDEB. 67 
 
 sometimes lurks, under the shadow of an apparent 
 tranquillity, an insanity which impels men readily to 
 accuse themselves of all kinds of iniquity. Some, 
 deluded by their imaginations, suspect themselves 
 of crimes which they have never committed. A 
 melancholy temperament, the tcedium vitce, and an 
 unaccountable propensity to their own destruction, 
 urges some to the most false confessions; whilst 
 they were extracted from others by the dread of 
 torture, or the tedious misery of the dungeon. So 
 far is it from being the fact that all confessions are 
 to be attributed to the stings of conscience, that it 
 has been well said by Calphurnius Flaccus, Even a 
 voluntary confession is to be regarded with sus 
 picion ; and by Quintilian, a suspicion of insanity 
 is inherent in the nature of all confessions. " 
 
in. 
 
 THE AXXESLEY CASE. 
 
 When the captain of the G-reat Britain ran that 
 unfortunate vessel on to the sands of Dundrum Bay, 
 it was urged in his excuse that so many marvelous 
 tales are told about Ireland, that he was justified 
 in concluding that no obstacle lay in his road from 
 the Isle of Man to New York ; that Dublin was as 
 fabulous as Blef uscu ; and that the Mourne mount 
 ains had no more real existence than the loadstone 
 hill which proved fatal to the ship of Sindbad. The 
 story we are about to tell might almost justify such 
 incredulity; yet it is only one of many equally 
 strange and equally well authenticated. 
 
 In the year 1706, Arthur Lord Althain, a needy 
 and dissolute Irish peer, married Mary Sheffield, an 
 illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Buckingham. 
 They lived together for three years ; but in 1709 
 Lord Althani went to Ireland, leaving his wife in 
 England, where she remained until 1713, when she 
 joined her husband in Dublin. From that tune un 
 til 1716 they resided together, principally at Dun- 
 maine, in the neighborhood of Ross, in the county of 
 Wexford. In 1716 they separated, under circum 
 stances which we shall presently have occasion to 
 notice more minutely, and never met again. In 1717 
 Lord Altham died, and was succeeded in his title 
 
 [69] 
 
70 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 and estates by his brother, Richard Anncsley, who 
 remained in undisturbed possession of both for a per 
 iod of thirteen years. Lady Altham survived her 
 husband for about two years, which were passed in 
 sickness and poverty, but docs not appear ever to 
 have taken any step to prevent Richard Annesley te 
 assumption of the character of heir to her husband, 
 to Avhich, of course, he would have had no title if she 
 had a son living at the time of Lord Altham s death. 
 In the year 1739, however, a young man of about 
 four-and-twenty years of age made his appearance 
 in the fleet which, under the command of Admiral 
 Vernon, was lying off Porto-Bello. lie called him 
 self James Annesley, stated that lie was a son of 
 Lord Altham, that he had been educated and ac 
 knowledged as such son until he was nine or ten 
 years of age; that upon the death of his father lie 
 had been kidnapped and sold for a slave in America ; 
 that lie had passed thirteen years in servitude, and 
 at last (after a series of romantic and not very credi 
 ble adventures, which have nothing to do with our 
 present subject) had effected his escape. Admiral 
 Vernon furnished him with the means of proceed 
 ing to England, where he arrived shortly afterwards. 
 On his arrival in England he went to lodge at 
 Staincs, in the neighborhood, of Windsor, and here 
 a circumstance occurred which had no doubt a con 
 siderable effect on the subsequent proceedings. One 
 of his associates, a man of the name of Redding, was 
 gamekeeper to Sir John Dolbin, the lord of the 
 manor. One morning James Anncsley was out.with 
 a gun shooting small birds, when Redding called 
 
THE AXNESLEY CASE. 71 
 
 him to assist in capturing a net with which a man 
 of the name of Egglestone was fishing in the river ; 
 Annesley s gun unfortunately went off in the scuffle, 
 and mortally wounded Egglestone. There could be 
 little doubt that the discharge of the gun was pure 
 ly accidental; but Lord Anglesea (for Richard, 
 Lord Altham, had in the meantime succeded to that 
 title also) seized the opportunity to destroy, as he 
 thought, the claimant of his title and estates. He 
 instituted a prosecution against James Annesley for 
 murder ; he was prodigal of money and promises 
 amongst the witnesses; and he declared that he 
 would willingly give ten thousand pounds to get 
 him hanged. The jury at the Old Bailey acquitted 
 Annesley, and Lord Anglesea s machinations re 
 coiled upon himself ; for there can be no doubt that 
 they greatly influenced both the court and jury 
 against him on the subsequent trial. 
 
 On the llth of November, 1743, the trial for the 
 recovery of the estates came on in the Court of Ex 
 chequer in Dublin. It lasted fifteeen days, and 
 above ninety witnesses were examined. The issue 
 between the parties was of the simplest and boldest 
 character. On the one hand, it was asserted that, 
 in the spring of the year 1715, Lady Altham had 
 been delivered at Dunmaine of a son and heir ; that 
 all the customary solemnities and rejoicings had 
 taken place ; that the child was uniformly acknowl 
 edged and treated both by Lord and Lady Altham 
 as their son ; that he was shown and spoken of as 
 such to visitors and friends ; that when the separa 
 tion between his parents took place, the mother 
 
72 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 passionately entreated that she might be permitted 
 to take the child with her, which the father refused, 
 keeping the boy and educating him as the heir to 
 his title and estates. On the other hand, it was 
 denied that Lady Altham ever had a child at all. 
 It was asserted that the very ground of the separa 
 tion between herself and her husband was the dis 
 comfort and disappointment occasioned by her 
 bearing no heir ; that it was known to every relation 
 and visitor, to every servant in the house, that Lady 
 Altham never had a child ; that the servant who 
 had attended her from her arrival in Dublin to the 
 hour of her death, who had dressed and undressed 
 her every morning and evening, and had never been 
 absent for more than one single week during the 
 whole of that period, was living, and would prove, 
 not only that no child ever was born, but that there 
 never was the slightest chance or probability that 
 Lady Altham would have a child. It is impossible 
 to conceive a simpler issue, or one which might be 
 supposed to be easier for conclusive proof one way 
 or the other ; yet two juries came to diametrically 
 opposite conclusions, and so positive is the testi 
 mony on each side, that it seems even now, after 
 carefully reading the contradictory evidence which 
 is preserved in upwards of five hundred columns of 
 the State Trials, to be impossible to arrive at any 
 satisfactory result. 
 
 It is to be observed that the question raised by 
 this issue was not one of personation or disputed 
 identity. If Lady Altham ever had a son, it was 
 virtually admitted that James Annesley was that 
 
THE A3TNT3SLEY CASE. 73 
 
 son. Nor was the case one of concealed or doubt 
 ful marriage, or obscure birth, such as have fre 
 quently occupied the courts. From the arrival of 
 Lady Altham in Ireland until her separation from 
 her husband, a period of about three years, they re 
 sided publicly together, kept a large establishment 
 of servants, and visited and associated with persons 
 of the most various rank and position in the neigh 
 borhood. It seems incredible that any dispute 
 should ever have arisen upon a point so easy of 
 proof as whether persons of their rank, and so cir 
 cumstanced, had or had not a child ; and as we read 
 the evidence adduced, the testimony on the one side 
 seems absolutely conclusive, until it is met by con 
 tradictory evidence, to all appearance equally con 
 clusive, on the other. 
 
 The household at Dunmaine was large and disor 
 derly, consisting of sixteen or seventeen servants, 
 from the English housekeeper, who was " sent over 
 by my lady," and who rejoiced in the appropriate 
 name of " Mrs. Settright," down to " Smutty, the 
 dog-boy, who was very ugly." Poor Smutty ! im 
 mortalized by his ugliness. He shows his ill-favored 
 countenance for a moment, and disappears into 
 utter obscurity. Lord Altham had about him, also, 
 a number of hangers-on and humble companions ; 
 but, besides these, he associated with gentlemen of 
 his own rank and position ; and one of the first wit 
 nesses called on behalf of the claimant, was a Major 
 Richard Fitzgerald. 
 
 The Major deposed that in the year 1715 he was 
 in the town of Ross, having had occasion to go 
 
 PUZZLES -7. 
 
74 JUDICIAL PFZZLES. 
 
 there on account of some business arising from the 
 death of his uncle, a Mr. Pigott, who lived in the 
 county of Wexford. In Ross he met Lord Altham, 
 who invited him to dinner. The Major excused 
 himself, as he was engaged to dine with some 
 brother officers ; " but Lord Altham said deponent 
 must dine with him, and come to drink some groan 
 ing drink, for that his wife was in labor. Deponent 
 told him that was a reason he ought not to go ; but 
 Lord Altham would not take an excuse, and sent 
 the deponent word the next day to Ross, that his 
 wife was brought to bed of a son; and the deponent 
 went to Dunmaine and dined there, and had some 
 discourse about the child, and Lord Altham swore 
 that the deponent should see his son, and accord 
 ingly the nurse brought the child to deponent, and 
 deponent kissed the child, and gave half a guinea 
 to the nurse ; and some of the company toasted the 
 heir-apparent to Lord Anglesea at dinner. That 
 this was the day after the child was born : and de 
 ponent says that he left the country the next day, 
 and went to the county of Waterford, to his own 
 house at Prospect Hall. Says deponent saw the 
 woman to whom he gave the half-guinea, this day 
 of his examination ; that he remembers her well, 
 because he took notice of her when he gave her the 
 half-guinea, that she was very handsome ; that he 
 did not stay at Dunmaine that night, but came to 
 Ross at nightfall, and was attacked in the road by 
 robbers; that he crossed the ferry on his return 
 home j remembers that Lord Altham was in high 
 
THE AXXESLEY CASE. /O 
 
 spirits with the thoughts of having a son and heir." * 
 It seems impossible to add to the force of this 
 testimony. N"o attempt was made to impeach the 
 character or credibility of the witness. Everything 
 concurred to fix the time and circumstances in his 
 mind : mistake appears . impossible ; and no motive 
 is assignable for willful falsehood. Nor is the evi 
 dence given by the next witness less conclusive. John 
 Turner was seneschal to Lord Anglesea. He had 
 lived at Dunmaine for ten years; he had visited 
 Lord Altham; and soon after his own marriage, 
 which took place in December, 1714, he observed 
 appearance of pregnancy in Lady Altham. He 
 says that the next time he saw Lady Altham she 
 told him she had a son ; that he afterwards saw the 
 boy, and had him in his arms at Dunmaine when he 
 was about a year and half old ; that Lady Altham 
 led the child across the parlor, and Lord Altham 
 kissed him and called him " Jemmy " ; that he saw 
 the child subsequently at Ross, and afterwards at 
 Kinnay and Carrickduff, after the separation be 
 tween Lord and Lady Altham, when he was treated 
 by his father in all respects as his legitimate son ; 
 that in the year 1722, meeting Lord Altham at a 
 tavern in Dublin, the boy was sent for, and Lord 
 Altham said to deponent, " You were seneschal to 
 Earl Arthur and Earl John, and you may be senes 
 chal to the child." f 
 
 During the eight-and-twenty years that had elaps 
 ed between the birth of the child in 1715 and the 
 trial in 1743, it was to be expected that many of 
 
 * State Trials, xvii, 1153. t Ibid, xvii, 1151. 
 
76 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 those whose evidence would have been most valu 
 able should have died ; amongst them were those 
 who stood sponsors for the child at its baptism; 
 Mr. Colclough, Mr. Cliff, and Mrs. Pigott, members 
 of families still holding high positions in the county 
 of Wexford; but the fact of the christening, the 
 rejoicings that took place, the bonfires and festiv 
 ities, were proved by servants who lived in the house 
 at the time, and proved repeatedly and consistently. 
 It is impossible within the narrow limits of an 
 article to give even an outline of the evidence of 
 the fifty witnesses who were called to substantiate 
 the claimant s case. It would seem almost needless 
 to strengthen the evidence of Major Fitzgerald and 
 John Turner. Every conceivable confirmation, 
 however, was given. Friends of Lord Altham 
 swore to conversations with him, in which he had 
 spoken in the most open manner of his son, and of 
 the disappointment of his brother s expectations of 
 being his heir. Witnesses were produced who had 
 been present and assisting at the birth of the child ; 
 and it is very remarkable that, although these wit 
 nesses were drawn from every rank of life, no 
 successful attempt was made to impeach the credi 
 bility of any of them, nor was any inconsistency to 
 be discovered in their testimony further than might 
 be satisfactorily accounted for by the long period 
 that had elapsed between the events to which they 
 spoke and the time when they gave their evidence. 
 We now come, however, to the most remarkable 
 conflict of testimony which occurs in the Avhole 
 case. A woman of the name of Joan Laff an was 
 
THE ANXESLEY CASE. 77 
 
 called. She deposed that she entered Lord 
 Altham s service m 1715; that she was em 
 ployed as nurse-maid to attend on the child as 
 soon as he came from the wet-nurse ; that he was 
 at that time three or four months old, and was in 
 her charge for about a year and a half ; that he was 
 treated in all respects as their child by both Lord 
 and Lady Altham, who showed great fondness for 
 him, and into whose bedroom she was in the habit 
 of bringing the child in the morning. 
 
 She then gave an account of the separation be 
 tween Lord and Lady Altham. "It was," she said, 
 " on account of Tom Palliser." " My lord had laid 
 a plot against him, and on one Sunday morning 
 pretended to my lady that he was obliged to go out 
 to dinner. That Mr. Palliser breakfasted with my 
 lord, and they had a bottle of mulled wine for 
 breakfast. As soon as my lord was gone out, Mr. 
 Palliser went into my lady s room, and the plot 
 having been laid before, a signal was made that 
 brought my lord back ; that my lord ran up with 
 his sword, and had him brought out of the room, 
 and the groom came to Palliser and said to him, Is 
 this the way you keep my lady company ? and took 
 out a case-knife in order to cut his nose, but he 
 was ordered only to cut his ear. That deponent 
 was standing by in the room, and she had the child 
 in her hand, and he showed her the blood out of 
 Palliser s ear ; it was the soft part of the ear that 
 was cut, and the child poitried at the blood that came 
 out of the ear" * The same witness deposed that 
 
 * State Trials, xvii, 1280. 
 
78 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 " she was present when my lord and lady parted ; 
 that she saAv my lady at the door with the child in 
 her arms ; that my lord came out of the house in a 
 great rage, and asked where his child was, and upon 
 being told that he was with his mother, he ran up 
 to her and snatched the child out of her arms ; that 
 my lady "begged very hard she might take the child 
 along with her, but my lord swore he would not part 
 with the child upon any consideration ; that my 
 lady, finding she could not prevail, burst out a 
 crying, and begged that she might at least give the 
 child one parting kiss ; that my lord with some dif 
 ficulty consented, and my lady drove away to 
 Ross." * 
 
 Such is Joan Laffan s story, and we must keep in 
 mind that at a subsequent period it was confirmed 
 by another witness ; f but in the meantime, let us 
 turn to Palliscr s account of the same transaction. 
 
 He stated that when he was very young he spent 
 much of his time at Dunmaine, which was within 
 about three miles of his father s residence, and used 
 to ride Lord Alt-ham s horses hunting. That one 
 day, as they were returning home, Lord Altham told 
 him that he was determined to part with his lady ; 
 and upon deponent s asking him his reasons, my 
 lord replied, "I find Lord Anglcsea will not be in 
 friendship with me while I live with this woman, 
 and since I have no child by her I will part loitJi 
 lier^ Palliscr then gives an account, in all material 
 circumstances, the same as Joan Laffan s, of his being 
 entrapped by Lord Altham into his wife s room and 
 
 * State Trials, xvii, 1108, 1170. tlbicl, 94. 
 
THE ANNESLEY CASE. 79 
 
 falsely accused of being there for an improper pur 
 pose ; he takes off his wig and shows the jury where 
 his ear was cut, solemnly asseverates the innocence 
 of Lady Altham, and declares not only that no 
 child was present upon that occasion, but that he 
 " neveq saw a child in the house" Upon this the 
 court, " apprehending that there was some contradic 
 tion between the evidence of Palliser and that of Joan 
 Laffan," as indeed they t well might, ordered Laf- 
 fan to be recalled, and the two witnesses to be con 
 fronted. Each repeated the story, each was equally 
 clear, distinct, and positive. We have said that 
 Joan Laffan s evidence was subsequently confirmed 
 by another witness, who deponed to having been 
 present at the parting of Lady Altham and her 
 child. The same is. however, the case with the tes 
 timony of Palliser, which was confirmed by Mary 
 Heath, Lady Altham s woman, who went with her 
 in the carriage to Boss, and who swore, most posi 
 tively, that no such child ever was in existence. It 
 is to be observed that Palliser and Laffan agree 
 
 O 
 
 that the charge against Lady Altham was false; 
 that Laffan attributes the plot to the revenge of the 
 servants, on account of some mischievous boyish 
 tricks which had been played upon them by Palliser ; 
 whilst Palliser himself attributes it to the deeper 
 and more probable motive of a determination on the 
 part of Lord Altham to get rid of a wife from whom 
 he hoped for no heir a motive which we have seen 
 give rise to some of the darkest domestic tragedies 
 that have disgraced humanity. The case, however, 
 is beset with difficulties on all sides ; for if we are 
 
80 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 to accept the evidence of Palliscr as true, the inev 
 itable consequence follows, that we must hold, not 
 only Joan Laffan, but Major Fitzgerald, Turner, 
 and many, indeed most, of the fifty witnesses called 
 on behalf of the claimant, and who swore positively 
 to the existence of the child, to have been deliber 
 ately perjured. 
 
 After the separation Lady Altham went to reside 
 at Ross, and subsequently removed to Dublin. Her 
 circumstances were extremely narrow, and her 
 health bad, but she was faithfully attended until 
 her death, which took place in October, 1729, by 
 Mary Heath. From her first arrival in Ireland, in 
 1713, a period of sixteen years, with the exception 
 of a single week, this woman was never absent from 
 her. While she resided at Dunmaine, Heath dressed 
 her every morning and undressed her every night ; 
 and this witness swore, in the most distinct and 
 positive manner, that she never had a child. It 
 seems to be enough to shake one s confidence in all 
 human testimony to find evidence so clear, distinct, 
 and unimpeachable, on each side ; to be compelled 
 to admit that on one side or the other there must 
 l>e the most willful and deliberate perjury, and yet 
 to feel it impossible to say on Avhich side perjury 
 exists. 
 
 Lord Altham removed, shortly after his separa 
 tion from his wife, to a place called Kinnay, in the 
 county of Kildare, and the issue now assumes a dif 
 ferent aspect. It is admitted that there was a child 
 at Kinnay; that he was put to school by Lord 
 Altham, and treated as part of his family ; but it is 
 
THE ANNESLEY CASE. 81 
 
 contended that he was the illegitimate child of Lord 
 Altham, by a woman of the name of Joan Landy, 
 who had been a servant in the house at Dunmainc, 
 and that he had been brought to the house subse 
 quently to Lady Altham s departure. 
 
 In the earlier part of the case the claimant is met 
 with the general denial Lady Altham never had a 
 sou. Prove that she had, and we will admit you to 
 be that son. In the latter part, the defendant says 
 in substance I admit that, during Lord Altham s 
 residence at Kinnay, there was a boy who passed as 
 his son. I admit that you are that boy ; but you 
 are not the heir of Lord Altham, but his illegitimate 
 son by Joan Landy. 
 
 The whole of the evidence, therefore, changes its 
 character : when Mary Heath swears that her mis 
 tress never had a child, whilst Eleanor Murphy 
 swears that both she and Heath were present at the 
 birth, one or the other must be perjured. But Lord 
 Altham might use expressions as to " little Jemmy," 
 which one witness might understand as being a dis 
 tinct declaration of his legitimacy, and another 
 might think only conveyed the expression of his af 
 fection for his natural child. 
 
 During the first period the existence of the child 
 is denied ; during the second it is admitted ; and 
 we shall now proceed to follow the fortunes of the 
 boy, waiving for the present the question of who 
 was his mother. 
 
 Lord Altham, after his separation from his wife, 
 formed a connection with one Miss Gregory, who 
 seems to have exercised an unbounded influence 
 
 OF THB 
 
 UNTVP.T^QTT V 
 
82 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 over him. After a short time poor" Jemmy" was 
 turned out to wander in rags about the streets of 
 Dublin. Here, however, he met with friends: a 
 good-natured student in Trinity College, of the 
 name of Bush, clothed and fed him, and employed 
 him to run errands, till his grandfather told him it 
 was not fit he should have a lord for his servant, 
 when he was turned out upon the world again. He 
 was next taken charge of by an honest butcher 
 named Purcell, who took him home and brought 
 him up with his own son. Purcell tells the court 
 that whilst " the boy was in his house, a gentleman 
 (who was then called Richard Annesley, and is the 
 now defendant, the Earl of Anglesea) came to de 
 ponent s house and asked if one Purcell did not live 
 there, and said he supposed they sold liquors ; that 
 the gentleman had a gun in his hand, and sat down, 
 and having called for a pot of beer, asked deponent 
 if he had a boy in his house called James Annes 
 ley ? To which deponent answered that there was 
 such a boy in the house, and called his wife and 
 told her that a gentleman wanted to see the boy ; 
 says that the child was sitting by the fireside, and 
 immediately saw Mr. Richard Annesley, though he 
 could not see the child by reason of the situation 
 where he sat ; says the child trembled and cried, 
 and was greatly affrighted, saying, That is my un 
 cle Dick ; says that when the child was shown to 
 the defendant, he said to Jemmy, How do you do ? 
 That the child made his bow, and replied, Thank 
 God, very well. That the defendant then said, 
 Don t you know me ? Yes, said the child, you 
 
THE A2TOESLEY CASE. 83 
 
 are my uncle Annesley. That thereupon the de 
 fendant told the deponent that the child was the 
 son of Lord Altham, who lived at Inchcore; to 
 which deponent replied, I wish, sir, you would 
 speak to his father to do something for him. " * 
 
 The child s fear of his uncle was not without 
 good cause. About three weeks after Lord Al- 
 tham s death, Richard Annesley came a second 
 time to seek for the child, and desired it should be 
 sent to one Jones in the market. Purcell suspect 
 ed mischief. The honest butcher shall tell his story 
 in his own words : " Then deponent took a cudgel 
 in one hand, and the child in the other, and went 
 to the said Jones s house, when he saw the present 
 Earl of Anglesea, (who was then in mourning) with 
 a constable and two or three other odd-looking fel 
 lows attending about the door ; that deponent took 
 off his hat, and saluted my lord, which he did not 
 think proper to return ; but as soon as he saw the 
 child in the deponent s hands, he called to a fellow 
 that stood behind deponent s back, and said to him, 
 
 4 Take up that thieving son of a , (meaning the 
 
 child) and carry him to the place I bid you. After 
 some more language of the same kind from his 
 lordship, the deponent said, My lord, he is no 
 thief ; you shall not take him from me ; whoever 
 offers to take him from me I ll knock his brains 
 out ; then deponent took the child (who was trem 
 bling with fear) and put him between his legs." f 
 
 Some high words passed, but the butcher was 
 true to his trust ; the lord and the constable sneak- 
 
 * State Trials, xvii. 1201. t Ibid, xvii, 1202. 
 
84 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 eel off, and the child was carried back in safety. 
 He was not long so fortunate. Fear of a repetition 
 of the attempt to capture him induced him, very 
 foolishly, to leave his friend the butcher. He then 
 took refuge in the house of a Mr. Tigh ; but it was: 
 not long before the emissaries of his uncle dis 
 covered his retreat, forced him into a boat, and on 
 board a ship bound for Philadelphia, which sailed 
 on April, 1728. His uncle himself placed him in 
 the ship, and returned to Dublin, thinking, no 
 doubt, that he had heard the last of him. All the 
 details of this nefarious transaction are given with 
 the utmost minuteness, and without shame or hesi 
 tation, by the very agents who were employed in it. 
 The share which Lord Anglesca took in the abduc 
 tion of his brother s child is hardly disputed. The 
 contention is confined to the point that the child 
 was illegitimate. The villany of the act seems 
 never to have struck any of the parties concerned. 
 But this act appears to us to turn the wavering 
 balance of evidence against Lord Anglesca. If this 
 boy were really the son of Joan Landy, it could not 
 bo difficult for Lord Anglesea to procure proof of 
 that fact whilst the events were so recent, whilst 
 Lady Altham was still living, and when he had 
 himself, by common consent, been admitted to the 
 title and estates of his brother. If, on the other 
 hand, he knew that the boy was his brother s legit 
 imate son, he had the strongest interest to remove 
 him out of the way before any inquiries could be 
 made, and whilst he was in the obscurity into which 
 his father had permitted him to fall. 
 
THE AXXESLEY CASE. 85 
 
 Yet a suspicion, almost equally strong, against 
 the truth of the claimant s case, would seem, to arise 
 from the fact that John Landy was living, and yet 
 was never called. 
 
 The claimant s story was, that this woman was 
 his nurse; that her own child, which was a few 
 months older than himself, had died, when he was 
 four or five years old, of small-pox. Who could be 
 so valuable a witness for the claimant as this 
 woman? Yet she was never examined, nor was 
 her absence ever satisfactorily accounted for. If it 
 is argued that she might have been called by either 
 side that it was equally open to the defendant to 
 produce her to negative, as to the claimant to pro 
 duce her to support the story it may be answered, 
 that she could hardly be expected to come forward 
 to denounce her own son as an impostor. The 
 non-production of a witness, who must have im 
 portant evidence in her power, who was naturally 
 the witness of the claimant, and whose absence is 
 not satisfactorily accounted for, throws the gravest 
 suspicion upon his whole case. To what conclu 
 sion, then, can we come? The jury, after a con 
 sultation of about two hours, found for the claimant. 
 They must therefore have considered Heath, Pallis- 
 er, Rolph, and the other witnesses who swore to 
 the non-existence of the child, to haA^e perjured 
 themselves. The plaintiff appears to have been 
 disposed to follow up his victory, for an indictment 
 for perjury was at once preferred against Mary 
 Heath. The same evidence was repeated; Joan 
 Laffan was again examined. But the jury found 
 
 PUZZLES 8. 
 
80 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 her " Not guilty." They must therefore have con 
 sidered that Laffan, and all those who swore to 
 Lady Altham having had a child, had been guilty 
 of the crime of which they acquitted Heath. James 
 Anncsley does not appear to have taken any further 
 steps to obtain possession of the estates and honors 
 to which the decision of the jury had established 
 his title. He died at Blackheath on the 2d of 
 January, 1760. His uncle, Richard Anneslcy, Lord 
 Anglesea, closed his career of profligacy and cruelty 
 twelve short months afterwards. James Annesley 
 left a son, who died an infant, and a daughter, who 
 married, and whose children died young. Thus his 
 line became extinct, and his rights, whatever they 
 were, reverted to his uncle. Such was the termin 
 ation of the " Annesley Case," memorable for the 
 dark mystery in which it must forever remain 
 shrouded, and for the curious picture which it 
 affords of the manners and habits of life that pre 
 vailed little more than a hundred years before our 
 own day. 
 
IV. 
 ELIZA FENXING. 
 
 Immediately adjoining to High Holborn, and 
 parallel with the southern side of Red Lion Square, 
 runs a long, narrow, gloomy lane, called Eagle 
 Street. Sickly children dabble in the gutters, and 
 gaze wistfully at the sugar-plums and hard-bake, 
 painfully suggestive of plaster of Paris and cobbler s 
 wax, which are displayed in the windows of the bet 
 ter class of shops, in company with farthing prints 
 of theatrical characters, pegtops, battledores, and 
 other objects of attraction to the youth of London. 
 Vendors of tripe and cats -meat, rag and bottle deal 
 ers, marine-store keepers ; merchants who hold out 
 temptations in prose and verse, adorned with apo 
 plectic numerals, -to cooks and housemaids to pur 
 loin dripping, kitchen stuff, and old wearing apparel ; 
 barbers who "shave well for a halfpenny," shoe- 
 vampers, fried-fish sellers, a coal and potato dealer, 
 and a bird-stuffer, share the rest of the street with 
 lodging-houses of the filthiest description. 
 
 In the month of July, 1815, a remarkable scene 
 was witnessed in this lane. In a back room of the 
 house No. 14 ( since pulled down to make way for 
 Day & Martin s blacking manufactory ) the body of 
 a young woman, who had a few days before been 
 executed at Newgate for poisoning the family in 
 
 [87] 
 
JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 which she was cook, with arsenic, was exhibited by 
 her parents to all comers. The street was filled 
 with crowds of compassionate or inquisitive gazers. 
 Money was freely given and readily received. This 
 extraordinary exhibition continued for five days. 
 On the 31st of July, a funeral procession wound its 
 way up Lamb s* Conduit Street, to the burial- 
 ground at the back of the Foundling Hospital. The 
 pall was borne by six young women robed in white. 
 Thousands of spectators ( it is stated, in the papers 
 of the day, as many as ten thousand ) followed the 
 coffin to the grave, and crowded round as it was 
 lowered into the earth. It bore upon its lid these 
 words "Elizabeth Fenning, died July 26, 1815, 
 aged 22 years." From that day to this, the case of 
 Eliza Fenning has been cited as one in which an in 
 nocent person fell a victim to the hasty judgment 
 of a prejudiced and incompetent tribunal. Nor must 
 it be supposed that this feeling has been confined to 
 an ignorant or angry populace. Sir Samuel Romilly 
 recorded his belief in her innocence. Curran was 
 in the habit of declaiming in glowing words on the 
 injustice of her fate ; and even recently an able and 
 kind-hearted man, whose experience of criminal in 
 quiries was most extensive, and certainly not of a kind 
 to induce him lightly to assume the innocence of a 
 convicted felon, has told the story of Eliza Fenning, 
 and concludes his narrative in the folloAving words : 
 " Poor Eliza Fenning ! So young, so fair, so innocent, 
 so sacrificed ! Cut down even in thy morning, witli 
 all life s brightness only in its dawn ! Little did it 
 profit theethat a city mourned over thy early grave, 
 
JSLIZA FEXXIXG. 89 
 
 and that the most eloquent of men did justice to 
 thy memory." * 
 
 On the other hand, it must be remembered that 
 Fenning was defended by able counsel ; that after 
 her conviction the case was again investigated by the 
 law advisers of the Crown ; that the trial took place 
 on the llth of April, and the execution was delayed 
 until the 26th of July a period of more than three 
 months, during which tune every opportunity was 
 afforded for bringing forward any circumstance 
 that might tell in the prisoner s favor ; that the re 
 sult of this inquiry, the patience and impartiality of 
 which there seems to be no reasonable ground to 
 doubt, was a confirmation of the verdict of the jury. 
 Here then, we find the remarkable fact, that in a 
 case unattended by any of those circumstances 
 which would be likely to excite popular sympathy 
 on the one hand, or to pervert the judgment of the 
 ordinary tribunals on the other, there is a distinct 
 issue between the decision of the law and the ver 
 dict of public opinion. It speaks well both for the 
 people and for the tribunals by which justice is ad 
 ministered, that such a case is of extreme rarity ; 
 and it is. an interesting and curious inquiry to ex 
 amine the facts from which it arises. 
 
 Eliza Fenning was cook in the family of a Mr. 
 Robert Gregsoii Turner, a law stationer in Chancery 
 Lane. The family consisted of Turner, his wife, 
 two apprentices named Gadsden and King youths 
 of seventeen or eighteen years of age, who lived in 
 the house a housemaid of the name of Sarah Peer, 
 
 * Vacation Thoughts on Capital Punishments, by Charles Phillips; 
 p. 102. 
 
90 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 and the prisoner. Turner s father, Mr. Orlibar 
 Turner, was a partner in the business, but resided 
 at Lambeth. On Tuesday, the 21st of March, 
 Orlibar Turner dined with his son and his daughter- 
 in-law. Part of the dinner consisted of some yeast 
 dumplings, of which all three partook. They had 
 hardly done so when they were attacked by violent 
 pain, accompanied by the symptoms of arsenical 
 poisoning. Soon afterwards, Gadsden, one of the 
 apprentices, who had dined at an earlier hour, came 
 into the kitchen, and finding the remains of the 
 dumplings, which had been brought down from the 
 parlor, ate a small piece, when he was attacked by 
 similar symptoms. The next sufferer was Eliza 
 Forming herself, who was taken ill in a like manner 
 later in the afternoon. Sarah Peer and King, the 
 other apprentice, who had dined earlier and did not 
 eat any part of the dumplings, escaped. 
 
 The first inquiry is, in what medium was the 
 poison conveyed? 
 
 All the persons who had partaken of the dump 
 lings were attacked in a greater or less degree. 
 The flour from which they were made was exam 
 ined, but no poison found; and Forming, Peer, and 
 King had dined on a pie, the crust from which was 
 made of the same flour, without any ill effects. The 
 poison, therefore, was not in the flour. Some sauce 
 had been served in a, boat separate from the dump 
 lings, and of this sauce Mr. Orlibar Turner did not 
 partake, yet he was one of the sufferers. The poi 
 son, therefore, was not in the sauce; nor was it in 
 the yeast, the remains of which were also examined. 
 
ELIZA FEXXIXG. 91 
 
 There was what would now be considered a most 
 unaccountable amount of carelessness in the exami 
 nation of the dumplings themselves; but the re 
 mains of the dough left in the pan in which they 
 were prepared was examined, and unquestionably 
 contained arsenic. Indeed, no reasonable ground 
 has ever been suggested for doubting that the poi 
 son was contained in the dumplings, and that it was 
 placed there by some one during their preparation. 
 
 The next inquiry is, how was the poison pro 
 cured ? 
 
 Mr. Turner had been in the habit of using arsenic 
 for the destruction of rats and mice, .with which his 
 house was infested ; and the poison was kept with the 
 most culpable negligence. It lay in an open drawer 
 in the office, unlocked, and in which waste paper 
 was kept. It was urged that Fenning was in the 
 habit of taking paper from the drawer for the pur 
 pose of lighting the fire, and an inference was 
 sought to be drawn from that circumstance unfa 
 vorable to her. It is manifest that nothing could 
 be more groundless. The arsenic was no doubt ob 
 tained from the drawer the packet in wliich it was 
 kept having been missed a few days before ; but 
 there was not one particle of evidence, with regard 
 to the abstraction of the arsenic, affecting Fenuing 
 more than any other member of the family ; for to 
 that drawer all the persons in the house had easy 
 access. 
 
 Fenning had been in the service about seven 
 weeks. Soon after she entered it, her mistress ob 
 served some levity of conduct on her part towards 
 
92 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 the apprentices, and reproved her severely for it, 
 threatening to discharge her ; but this passed over ; 
 and with this exception, she does not appear to 
 have had any discomfort or ground of ill-will against 
 her mistress, or any others of the family. We look 
 in vain, therefore, for any adequate motive for so 
 horrible a crime. We must now trace the few cir 
 cumstances, and they are very few, which the jury 
 considered sufficient to lead them to the conclusion 
 of the guilt of the prisoner. 
 
 On the morning of the 20th of March, some yeast 
 Avas brought to the house by the brewer s man, 
 which had been ordered by Fcnning, without the 
 knowledge of her mistress, a day or>two before. 
 The yeast was received by Sarah Peer, the house 
 maid, who poured it into a white basin, and gave it 
 to Fenning. The remains of the yeast was after 
 wards examined, and found to be perfectly pure. 
 On Tuesday morning, the 21st of March, Mrs. Tur 
 ner went into the kitchen and gave Fenning direc 
 tions as to preparing the dumplings. Fenning 
 kneaded the dough, made the dumplings, was in 
 the kitchen the whole time until they were served 
 up to table, and during the greater part of that time 
 was there alone Mrs. Turner having left her soon 
 after giving her orders, and Sarah Peer, the house 
 maid, being engaged at her duties in other rooms. 
 Fenning, therefore, had ample opportunity to mix 
 the poison with the dumplings ; and it is difficult to 
 suppose that any other person could have meddled 
 with them without her being aware of the fact. In 
 deed, she herself stated that no other person had 
 
ELIZA FEXXING. 93 
 
 anything to do with the dumplings.* On the re 
 mains of the dinner brought down into the kitchen, 
 Gadsden, as we have before stated, came in, and 
 seeing one of the dumplings, took up a knife and 
 fork and was going to eat it, when Penning ex 
 claimed, " Gadsden, do not eat that : it is cold and 
 heavy ; it will do you no good." Gadsden, in his 
 evidence, adds : " I ate a piece about as big as a wal 
 nut, or bigger. There was a small quantity of 
 sauce in the boat : I took a bit of bread and sopped 
 it in it, and ate that." t Gadsden was taken ill 
 about ten minutes afterwards. He was not, how 
 ever, too ill to be sent for the elder Turner s wife, 
 Mrs. Margaret Turner. On her arrival, she found 
 her husband, son, and daughter-in-law extremely ill ; 
 and very soon afterwards Eliza Fenning herself was 
 attacked with similar symptoms. Here, then, we 
 find this curious fact all the persons who have 
 partaken of the dumplings at dinner are ill : Gads 
 den is warned by Feuning not to eat them ; he neg 
 lects the warning, and is almost immediately taken 
 ill in the same manner ; he is sent to Lambetli to 
 fetch Mrs. Margaret Turner ; and Fenning is not 
 taken ill until after her arrival. Considering the dis- 
 
 O 
 
 tance from Chancery Lane to Lambeth, this must 
 have been a considerable interval. As the effects 
 of the poison (even when taken in so small a quantity 
 as by Gadsden) were almost immediate, it follows 
 that Fenning did not take it until some time after 
 these symptoms were apparent in the others, and 
 subsequent to the warning she gave Gadsden. This 
 
 * list Q. t Short-hancl copy of the Trial, 8 ! Ji Q. 
 
94 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 seems to dispose of the arguments in favor of her 
 innocence, which have been founded on the fact of 
 her having been herself a sufferer from, the poison. 
 What might be her motive is a matter involved in 
 great obscurity ; but there seems to be no doubt 
 that she took it, for some reason or other, after she 
 had seen its effects, and after she had seen cause to 
 warn Gadsden against the dumplings. 
 
 This very slender evidence is all that exists apart 
 from that which is derived from Fenning s own 
 statements, which we shall consider presently. 
 
 It amounts to little more than proof that Fen- 
 iiing might easily have committed the crime, and 
 that it is difficult to suppose that any other person 
 could. The poison was unquestionably in the dump 
 lings ; it was unquestionably placed there during 
 their preparation. Who but Fcnning could have 
 done this ? But we now come to the consideration 
 of what appears to us to be by far the most import 
 ant evidence in the case namely, the statements 
 made by Eliza Fcnning herself. 
 
 Mrs. Turner the elder arrived at the house, as we 
 have seen, in the afternoon. She is asked whether 
 she had any conversation with Fcnning on the 
 subject : 
 
 "90th Q. Did you say anything to her Avhilc 
 you were there that day respecting the dumplings ? 
 
 11 A. I exclaimed to her, Oh, these devilish 
 dumplings ! supposing they had done the mischief. 
 She said, Not the dumplinys, but the milk, madam. 
 I asked her, What milk ? she said, The halfpenny 
 worth of milk that Sally had fetched to make the 
 
OF THB 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 ELIZA 
 
 " 91st Q. Did she say who had made the sauce ? 
 
 " A. My daughter. I said, That cannot be it 
 could not be the sauce. She said, Yes ; Gadsden 
 ate a very little bit of dumpling, not bigger than a 
 nut, but licked up three parts of a boat of sauce 
 with a bit of bread. " 
 
 During the whole of the next day, Fenning, in 
 reply to repeated inquiries, persisted that the poison 
 was in the milk which was fetched by Sarah Peer, 
 and used for the sauce ; that it was not in the dump 
 lings ; and that no one had mixed anything in the 
 dumplings, or had anything to do with them, but 
 herself. (Q. 69, 70, 71.) 
 
 We have already adverted to the fact that Mr. 
 Turner, who did not partake of the sauce, (94th Q.) 
 was as ill as any of the others. This is, of course, 
 conclusive of the fact that the poison was not in 
 the sauce, or at any rate, not in the sauce alone. 
 
 The arguments in favor of the innocence of Fen 
 ning have been almost entirely based on the fact that 
 she herself partook of the poisoned dumplings. As 
 we have already seen, she did not do this until after 
 the effects had been produced upon all the other 
 sufferers, and after she had warned Gadsden that 
 the dumpling was " cold and heavy, and would do 
 him no good." Now, in order to support the hy 
 pothesis of her innocence, it must be supposed that, 
 feeling certain that she had mixed no deleterious 
 article in the dumplings, that no other person could 
 have done so, she eats a portion of them to prove 
 her conviction of that fact ; otherwise, why, when 
 she had dined a short time before on beefsteak-pie, 
 
96 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 should s"he cat the "cold and heavy" dumpling 
 which she had warned Gadsdcii not to meddle with ? 
 She is then immediately taken ill. Supposing she 
 were innocent, her first exclamation would have 
 been one of surprise. " The dumplings are poison 
 ed ! who has done this ? " Instead of this, she seeks 
 to divert suspicion from the dumplings, and to cast 
 it upon the milk which had been fetched by Sarah 
 Peer. 
 
 This ready falsehood, and attempt to divert the 
 suspicion which was pointing at her towards an in 
 nocent person, appears to us to afford strong evi 
 dence of her guilt ; and this evidence is strengthened 
 by the fact that even in her falsehood she was not 
 consistent. The next day, when she was taken into 
 custody, she changed her story. We find no more 
 about the milk. She tells the constable that she 
 thinks the poison was in the yeast, that she saw a 
 red settlement in it. We have already stated that 
 the remains of the yeast were examined, and nothing 
 whatever of a deleterious nature discovered. On 
 her trial she abandoned both these stories, and 
 confined herself to a general assertion of her inno 
 cence, in which she persisted on the scaffold. 
 
 Such, then, arc the facts proved in evidence in 
 the case of Eliza Penning. We have purposely ab 
 stained from alluding to the utterly irrelevant mat 
 ter with which the papers of the day were filled. 
 On the one side, Eliza Penning was represented as 
 a paragon of beauty and virtue; on the other, as a, 
 monster of depravity and vice. There is not one 
 particle of reason for believing cither one statement 
 
ELIZA FENXIXG. 97 
 
 or the other. Until she was charged with the crime 
 for which she suffered, she seems to have been very 
 much like any other commonplace servant of a some 
 what low class. Is there, then, evidence sufficient 
 to lead us, after a dispassionate consideration, to a 
 conclusion either one way or the other ? We con 
 fess that we think there is ; and the conclusion at 
 which we arrive is, that Fenning was guilty. 
 
 By a process of exhaustion we arrive at the fact, 
 that it was hardly possible that any person but 
 Fenning could have introduced the arsenic into the 
 dumplings. This, alone, would perhaps not justify 
 us in coming to a positive conclusion ; but her own 
 conduct, her false and contradictory statements, her 
 warning Gadsden, and her eagerness to throw the 
 blame on a person who was undoubtedly innocent, 
 leave in our minds no doubt gf her own guilt. 
 
 We are met, however, by two difficulties. First, 
 the absence of any adequate motive for the crime ; 
 and, secondly, the fact that she herself partook of 
 the poisoned dumplings. 
 
 With regard to the first, all persons who have any 
 practical experience of criminal courts know how 
 slight and insignificant are the motives which some- 
 tunes impel to the commission of the most appal 
 ling crimes. The poisoning even of children by 
 their own parents, to obtain the paltry allowance 
 made by burial-clubs on their deaths, became so 
 common a few years ago as to occasion the express 
 interference of the legislature. We were our 
 selves present at the trial of Betty Eccles. That 
 wretched woman had contracted a habit of poison- 
 
 PlTZZLES O. 
 
98 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 ing. If a neighbor s child cried, it was quieted with 
 a dose of arsenic. One poor little victim, not sus 
 pecting the cause of her agony, besought the mur 
 deress to take her to the pump to get a drink of 
 water, to allay the burning thirst with which she 
 was tormented ; " Thee mayest lie where thee art," 
 was the reply; "thee won t want water long." 
 When incendiary fires were rife, many instances oc 
 curred in which there seemed to be no assignable 
 motive at all beyond the mere desire to see a blaze 
 and to cause an excitement. 
 
 The genius of Scott was never displayed in great 
 er vigor than in the scene where Elspeth of the 
 Craigburnfoot discloses to Lord Glenallan the con 
 spiracy which resulted in the death of Eveline 
 Neville ; nor is his knowledge of the human heart 
 more completely shown by anything than the trivial 
 cause which he assigns for Elspeth s bitter hatred 
 and deep revenge : "I hated Miss Eveline Neville 
 for her ain sake. I brought her frae England, and 
 during our whole journey she gecked and scorned 
 at my northern speech and habit, as her southland 
 leddies and kimmers had done at the boarding- 
 school, as they ca d it." Most of our readers, we 
 fear, if they look honestly back through their own 
 experience, will be able to recall some domestic 
 tragedy which has originated in as trivial a cause. 
 It is equally true of crime as of other things, moral 
 and physical, that the most monstrous growth often 
 springs from the most minute seed. 
 
 With regard to the second argument, it must be 
 owned that, if the dumplings had been prepared for 
 
ELIZA FEXXING. 99 
 
 the dinner of which Fenning was to partake, it 
 would have been one of considerable force. But 
 this was not so. Fenning had prepared the dinner 
 for herself, her fellow-servant, Gadsden, and the 
 other apprentice. She made the crust of the pie 
 from the same flour which was used for the dump 
 lings, but no one suffered from sharing that meal. 
 She ate the dumpling after the ill effects had been 
 experienced after she had cautioned Gadsden. 
 Whether she ran the risk for the sake of concealing 
 her crime, or whether she desired to destroy her own 
 life, it is impossible to say. It has been asserted 
 that, after the execution of Fenning, some person 
 confessed that he had been the murderer. This 
 rests on mere rumor. We have reason to believe 
 that there is more ground for the statement which 
 has also been made, that though Eliza Fenning per 
 sisted in the assertion of her innocence in public 
 and to the Ordinary of Newgate, yet that she con 
 fessed her guilt to another person. Neither of 
 these reports, however, have ever assumed a tangi 
 ble form, or one which would enable them to be 
 submitted to that kind of scrutiny which alone could 
 give them value. We have therefore disregarded 
 them altogether in considering the case, and con 
 fined our attention to legitimate evidence alone. 
 We attach but little value to Fenning s assertion of 
 her innocence on the scaffold. Few weeks have 
 passed since Mullins was executed, making similar 
 protestations ; yet we presume that no doubt exists 
 in the mind of any sane man that he was the murder 
 er of Mrs. Ernsley. Gleeson Wilson, the murderer of 
 
100 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 Mrs. Hendrickson and her children, persisted to the 
 last in asseverations of his innocence. 
 
 We have said that it is rarely that public opinion 
 fails to confirm the decisions of our criminal courts. 
 We attribute this most happy circumstance mainly 
 to three things: the publicity of all judicial pro 
 ceedings; the placing of all issues of fact in the 
 hands of the jury; and the freedom of the judge 
 from any part in the conduct of the trial. But 
 we shall probably startle many of our readers when 
 we say that, in one most important particular, we 
 think that one of the oldest and best established 
 rules of our criminal law might be considerably 
 modified with advantage to the ends of justice. 
 We allude to the rule which, under all circumstan 
 ces, prohibits the examination of a person charged 
 with crime, and the correlative or complimentary 
 rule which precludes him from giving evidence in his 
 own behalf. No rule is more strictly observed in 
 English jurisprudence. From the moment that a 
 man is charged with crime until he is placed at the 
 bar for trial, he is hedged round with precautions 
 to prevent him from criminating himself. Upon 
 his trial he cannot be asked to explain a doubtful or 
 suspicious circumstance. Whether he will or not, 
 his mouth is closed, except for the purpose of cross- 
 examining the witnesses, until all the evidence is 
 heard against him, and then he addresses the jury 
 with the disadvantage ( and, supposing him to be in 
 nocent, it is a very serious disadvantage ) that even 
 the jury or the judge cannot put any question 
 to him which might enable him to clear up what 
 
ELIZA FEXXIXG. 101 
 
 was obscure, or to explain what might appear to be 
 suspicious in his conduct. The armor with which 
 the law thus shields the guilty becomes an incum- 
 brance upon the innocent. 
 
 The rule originates, no doubt, in a love of fair play. 
 Every man is entitled to be considered innocent 
 until he is proved to be guilty. You must not make 
 a man criminate himself. These are aphorisms in 
 which we fully agree. But it is equally true that 
 you ought to give every man the utmost freedom to 
 prove that he is innocent, and to exculpate himself. 
 
 We are fully aware of the evils that arise from 
 the system pursued in the French courts, where the 
 judge interrogates the culprit (we use the word in 
 its legal sense of an accused person, not in its popu 
 lar meaning of a guilty one) where the grave judi 
 cial inquiry degenerates into a " keen encounter of 
 their wits," and the hand which ought to hold the 
 balance steady wields, instead, the sword of the com 
 batant. We know, too, the still greater evils that at 
 tend the system of secret examination by the judge, 
 which prevails in other Continental States, and 
 with which the readers of Feuerbach are familiar ; 
 and we would far rather retain the imperfections of 
 our own system than adopt the infinitely worse mis 
 chiefs which are attendant upon either. Still, the 
 reverse of wrong is not necessarily right ; and our 
 own course of proceeding might, we think, be modi 
 fied with advantage. 
 
 In the present state of the law this curious anom 
 aly exists, that in the very same state of facts, it de 
 pends upon whether the proceeding is civil or crirn- 
 
102 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 inal, whether the mouth of the accused person is 
 closed or not. A and his wife, walking home at 
 night, are met by B and his wife, when B knocks A 
 down. A indicts B for the assault, and this being a 
 criminal proceeding, A and his wife give their evi 
 dence upon oath, whilst neither B nor his wife can 
 be examined at all. But suppose that, instead of in 
 dicting B, A had brought an action against him, 
 the whole case is changed. Now A and B, and 
 their respective wives, can all be examined and 
 cross-examined. Can there be a doubt which course 
 is most conducive to the elucidation of the truth ; 
 and can a grosser absurdity be conceived than that 
 the same court should adopt modes of procedure so 
 inconsistent in an inquiry into the same facts, be 
 fore the same judge and the same jury, and prac 
 tically between the same parties ? 
 
 A case occurred last summer which excited great 
 interest, and which forcibly illustrates the evil we 
 complain of. 
 
 A clergyman of the name of Hatch was indicted 
 for a gross offense alleged to have been committed 
 upon a child of tender years, who had been intrust 
 ed to his care as a pupil. The charge rested almost 
 solely on the evidence of the child, a girl of the 
 name of Eugenia Plummer. Neither Hatch nor 
 
 O 
 
 his wife could be examined, and, as theirs was the 
 only testimony by which, from the nature of the 
 case, the charge could be rebutted, Hatch was 
 convicted. Under the circumstances, it was hardly 
 possible that the jury could come to any other con 
 clusion. A few weeks elapsed, and Eugenia Plum- 
 
ELIZA FEXXIXG. 103 
 
 mer was placed at the same bar, charged with per 
 jury. Then the tables were turned. Hatch and his 
 wife were examined ; the child s mouth was closed. 
 The jury convicted Eugenia Plummer of perjury. 
 On the evidence before the jury no other result 
 could reasonably have been expected. Both the 
 juries discharged their duties with honesty and in 
 telligence. Both were assisted in their delibera 
 tions by judges of the highest character and the 
 greatest experience and ability, yet one jury or the 
 other convicted an innocent person. If Plummer 
 was guilty, Hatch was innocent; if Hatch was 
 guilty, Plummer was herself the double victim of 
 his brutality and his perjury. "We express no opin 
 ion whatever as to which jury was right, but it is 
 manifest that both could not be. It must, we think, 
 be clear to every one, that the only way in which a 
 case of this kind could be satisfactorily tried must 
 be by confronting and examining both the parties. 
 To attempt to try such issues separately is like 
 trying to cut a knot with the two disunited halves 
 of a pair of scissors. 
 
 If, upon one trial, both could have been examin 
 ed, the inquiry would very possibly have terminated 
 in the acquittal of both. In other words, the jury 
 might have found the evidence of both so unsatis 
 factory that they could not found any decision 
 upon it. Such a result, certainly, would not have 
 been desirable, yet it would have been far less 
 objectionable than what has actually taken place. 
 The conviction of Eugenia Plummer for perjury 
 has operated as a virtual acquittal of Hatch. 
 
104 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 But every one must feel that that acquittal, having 
 been obtained when the mouth of the only mate 
 rial witness against him was closed, is far less 
 satisfactory than it would have been if it had re 
 sulted from the decision of a jury who had heard 
 the evidence of Plummer. 
 
 The case of Elizabeth Canning, which we examin 
 ed at length in a former number, was of the same 
 description. Squires was convicted of felony on 
 the evidence of Canning, and Canning was sub 
 sequently convicted of perjury committed in that 
 very evidence. On the first trial Squires could not 
 be examined ; on the second, Canning was silenced, 
 and both the accused persons were convicted. Such 
 cases are of frequent occurrence, and they arc 
 always attended by this evil, that, whether rightly 
 or not, public opinion will unavoidably be divided 
 as to the result. The conviction of Canning hardly 
 diminished either the number or the zeal of those 
 who had espoused her cause ; and it would probably 
 be found that the juries who came to conflicting 
 decisions in the cases of Hatch and Eugenia Plum 
 mer, represent, not unfairly, the diversities of public 
 opinion. 
 
 The remedy we would suggest is, that in all cases 
 a culprit should be permitted to tender himself for 
 examination. We think that to allow the prosecu 
 tor to call the culprit, and to examine him whether he 
 would or no, would be attended with evils greater 
 than any advantage to be derived from such a 
 course evils less in degree, though the same in 
 kind, as those which make us shrink with horror 
 
ELIZA FENTSTNG. 105 
 
 from the idea of extracting even truth by the means 
 of torture means which have never been used in 
 our courts since they were adopted by the express 
 command of that queen whom Lord Macaulay has 
 held up to us as the pattern of every gentle and 
 feminine virtue, and her ruthless husband. If an 
 accused person choose to remain silent, or to make 
 his statement to the jury without the sanction of an 
 oath, and without submitting its truth to the test of 
 cross-examination, he should be fully at liberty to 
 do so, subject, of course, to the unfavorable effect 
 which such a proceeding would unavoidably have 
 on the minds of the jury. That this would be the 
 line taken by the guilty would no doubt frequently 
 be the case; but every innocent man would, we 
 believe, gladly adopt the other course. We have 
 heard it urged that the ignorant, the stupid, or the 
 timid man would be thus placed at a disadvantage 
 when exposed to the cross-examination of an ex 
 perienced, acute, and possibly not very scrupulous 
 counsel. We believe, on the contrary, that such a 
 person is the very one to whom (supposing him to 
 be innocent) the course we suggest would be of the 
 greatest advantage. What is the position of such 
 a man now ? He is left to blunder his story out as 
 best he may, casting it before the jury in a confused, 
 unintelligible mass, with, very possibly, the most 
 material parts wholly omitted. If our suggestion 
 were adopted, the thread of his narrative would 
 be drawn from the tangled skein by the hand of an 
 experienced advocate its consistency and its truth 
 would be tested by cross-examination, and confirmed 
 
106 JUDICIAL PUZZLE $ 
 
 by re-examination. A greater boon to the ignorant 
 or timid man falsely accused of crime, than such a 
 mode of exculpating himself, we can hardly con 
 ceive. 
 
 The ultimate object of all criminal jurisprudence 
 is the safety of society. When a crime is commit 
 ted, especially if it is one of a nature to excite ex 
 treme horror and detestation, the first and most 
 natural impulse is to fix the guilt upon some one- 
 Outraged humanity and public indignation demand 
 a victim. In the case of the Road murder, we have 
 seen persons who, from their position and education, 
 ought to know better, calling out for the abandon 
 ment of the established forms of law and justice 
 and the adoption of some new and inquisitorial 
 mode of proceeding. We have seen a magistrate 
 holding a sort of extrajudicial court, listening to, 
 and even asking for, the most absurd and irrelevant 
 gossip, and exposing the gravest and most serious 
 inquiry to ridicule. 
 
 To attempt to supply a defect by adopting an ex 
 ceptional course of proceeding in an individual case, 
 would only be to introduce a mischief of far greater 
 magnitude. It is far better that an individual 
 
 O 
 
 crime, however horrible, should remain unpunished, 
 than that rules established for the purposes of jus 
 tice should be strained or set aside. But it is well 
 that we should consider carefully whether those 
 rules rest on a sound foundation. We have, with 
 great advantage, abandoned the rule which former 
 ly excluded the parties to civil suits from giving 
 evidence. We believe that nothing but good would 
 
ELIZA PENNING. 107 
 
 result from the removal of the anomaly which still 
 exists in our criminal courts when the accuser is 
 sworn, and gives his evidence on oath, whilst the 
 accused is refused the same sanction to his denial of 
 the charge. 
 
V. 
 
 SPEXCER COWPER S CASE. 
 
 At the summer assizes at Hertford, on the 16th 
 of July, 1699, a young barrister, rising into emi 
 nence in his profession, the son of a baronet of 
 ancient family, who was one of the representatives, 
 and a brother of a King s Counsel, who was the 
 other representative of the town in Parliament, 
 held up his hand at the bar to answer a charge of 
 murder. It was not for blood shed in an angry 
 brawl it was not for vindicating his honor by his 
 sword in defiance of the law, that Spencer Cowper 
 was arraigned. He was accused of having deliber 
 ately murdered a woman,whose only fault was hav 
 ing loved him too devotedly and trusted him too im 
 plicitly. He was called upon to plead to a charge 
 which, if proved, would not only consign his body 
 to the gibbet, but his name to eternal infamy. 
 
 Sarah Stout was the only daughter of a Quaker 
 maltster in the town of Hertford. Her father was 
 an active and influential supporter of the Cowpers 
 at the elections, and the kind of intimacy which 
 ordinarily takes place under such circumstances 
 arose between the families. Attentions, no doubt 
 highly flattering to their vanity, were paid to the 
 wife and daughter of the tradesman by the ladies 
 of the baronet s family ; and an intimacy arose be- 
 
 PUZZLES 10. C 109 ] 
 
110 JUDICIAL PUZZLES* 
 
 tween Spencer Cowper and Sarah, wliich did not 
 cease when she was left an orphan upon the death 
 of her father, and he became the husband of another 
 woman. He managed the little fortune which had 
 been bequeathed to her ; he occasionally took up 
 his abode (whether as a guest or lodger does not 
 appear) at her mother s house, when business called 
 him to Hertford; and he unhappily inspired her 
 with a violent, and, as the event proved, a fatal 
 passion. 
 
 Never did the truth of the proverb, " Cucullus 
 non facit inonachum," or rather, in this case, mon- 
 acliam, receive a stronger confirmation than from 
 the story of poor Sarah Stout. Stormy passions 
 beat under the dove-colored bodice, and flashed 
 from the eyes which were shaded by the close 
 white cap and poke bonnet of the Quakeress. Her 
 whole heart and soul were given to Spencer Cow 
 per. A man of sense and honor would, under such 
 circumstances, at once have broken off the connec 
 tion, and saved the girl, at the cost of some 
 present suffering, from future guilt and misery. 
 A man of weak determination and kind feel 
 ings might have got hopelessly involved in at 
 tempting to avoid inflicting pain. Cowper did 
 neither. He carried on a clandestine correspond 
 ence with her under feigned names, and received 
 letters from her breathing the most ardent passion, 
 which he displayed amongst his profligate associ 
 ates. He introduced a friend to her as a suitor, 
 and then betrayed to that friend the secrets which, 
 above al 1 others, a man of honor is bound to guard 
 
SPEXCER COWPER S CASE. Ill 
 
 with the strictest fidelity. He behaved as ill as a 
 man could do under the circumstances. 
 
 On the morning of Monday, the 13th day of 
 March, the first day of the spring assizes of 1699, 
 Spencer Cowper arrived in Hertford, traveling (as 
 was then the custom of the bar) on horseback. He 
 went direct to the house of Mrs. Stout, where he 
 was expected, in consequence of a letter which had 
 been written, announcing his intended visit. He 
 was asked to alight, but declined to do so, as he 
 wished to show himself in the town. He promised, 
 however, to send his horse, and to come himself to 
 dinner. This promise he kept, and having dined 
 with Mrs. Stout and her daughter, he left the house 
 about four o clock, saying that he had business in 
 the town, but that he would return in the evening. 
 At nine he returned, asked for pen, ink, and paper 
 to write to his wife, and had his supper. Mrs. 
 Stout, the mother, went to bed, leaving Spencer 
 Cowper and her daughter together, orders having 
 been given to make a fire in his room. Between 
 ten and eleven o clock Sarah called the servant girl, 
 and, in Cowper s hearing, desired her to warm his 
 bed. She went up-stairs for that purpose, leaving 
 Spencer Cowper and Sarah alone in the parlor to 
 gether. As she went up-stairs she heard the house- 
 clock (which was half an hour too fast) strike eleven. 
 In about a quarter of an hour afterwards she heard 
 the house-door shut to, and, supposing that Cowper 
 had gone to post his letter, she remained warming 
 his bed for a quarter of an hour longer. She then 
 went down-stairs, and found that both Spencer Cow 
 per and her young mistress were gone. 
 
112 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 The mother could not be examined upon the trial, 
 as she was a Quaker, and could not take an oath. 
 The account of the transactions of that day, there 
 fore, rests solely upon the evidence of Sarah Walk 
 er, the servant, who deponed as follows : 
 
 " May it please you, my lord, on Friday before 
 the last assizes, Mr. Cowper s wife sent a letter to 
 Mrs. Stout, that she might expect Mr. Cowpcr at 
 the assize-time; and, therefore, we expected Mr- 
 Cowper at that time, and accordingly provided ; 
 and as he came in with the judges, she asked him 
 if he would alight ? He said, No ; by reason I 
 came in later than usual, I will go into town and 
 show myself, but he would send his horse presently. 
 She asked him how long it would be before he would 
 come, because they would stay for him ? He said 
 he could not tell, but he would send her word ; and 
 she thought he had forgot, and sent me down to 
 know whether he would please to come. He said 
 he had business, and he could not come just then ; 
 but he came in less than a quarter of an hour after, 
 and dined there, and he went away at four o clock ; 
 and then my mistress asked him if he would lie 
 there ? And he answered yes, and he came at night 
 about nine ; and he sat talking about half an hour, 
 and then called for pen, ink, and paper, for that, as 
 he said, he was to write to his wife ; which was 
 brought him, and he wrote a letter ; and then my 
 mistress went arid asked him what he would have 
 for supper? lie said milk, by reason he had made 
 a good dinner ; and I got him his supper, and he ate 
 it ; after, she called me in again, and they were talk- 
 
113 
 
 ing together, and then she bid me make a fire in 
 his chamber ; and when I had done so, I came and 
 told him of it, and he looked at me, and made me 
 no answer ; then she bid me warm the bed, which 
 accordingly I went up to do as the clock struck 
 eleven ; and in about a quarter of an hour I heard 
 the door shut, and I thought he was gone to convey 
 the letter, and stayed about a quarter of an hour 
 longer, and came down, and he was gone, and she ; 
 and Mrs. Stout, the mother, asked me the reason 
 why he went out when I was warming his bed? 
 And she asked me for my mistress, and I told her I 
 left her with Mr. Cowper ; and I never saw her after 
 that, nor did Mr. Cowper return to the house." * 
 
 Cowper, who defended himself with great ability, 
 asked the witness in cross-examination : 
 
 " When you came down and missed your mistress, 
 did you inquire after her all that night ? 
 
 "A. No, sir, I did not go out of the doors ; I 
 thought you were with her, and so I thought she 
 would come to no harm. 
 
 "J/r. Cowper. Here is a whole night she gives 
 no account of. Pray, mistress, why did you not go 
 after her ? 
 
 "A. My mistress would not let me. 
 
 "Mr. Cowper. Why would she not let you ? 
 
 "A. I said I would seek for her. No, says she, 
 4 by reason, if you go and seek for her, and do not 
 find her, it will make an alarm over the town, and 
 there may be no occasion. " f 
 
 Maternal solicitude could not be very strong in the 
 
 * 13 State Trials, 1112. t Ibid, 1114. 
 
114 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 breast of Mrs. Stout, or slie was disposed to place 
 a more than ordinary degree of confidence in the 
 discretion of her daughter and young Cowper. 
 Sarah Stout was never again seen alive. The next 
 morning her body was found in a mill-dam some 
 thing less than a mile distant. Cowper never re 
 turned to Mrs. Stout s ; he was seen at an inn in the 
 town at eleven, and arrived at other lodgings, which 
 he had hired in the town, at a quarter past. Here the 
 evidence ends. A vast amount of testimony was 
 given at the trial, as to whether the body of the 
 girl floated or not ; as to whether a body thrown in 
 to the water after death would float or sink ; but it 
 came to nothing. The coroner s inquest had been 
 hurried over, and no examination of the body had 
 taken place until long after decomposition had pro 
 ceeded too far to allow of any satisfactory result 
 being arrived at. 
 
 In a former number ^ we observed on the ef 
 fect of the rule of law which excludes a prisoner 
 not only from giving evidence on his own behalf , but 
 also from tendering himself for cross-examination. 
 If Cowper was innocent, that rule bore hardly upon 
 him in the present case. We will, however, give 
 him the full benefit of his own account of the matter. 
 He said f and in this he was confirmed by the evi 
 dence of his brother that having received a pressing 
 invitation to take up his quarters during the assizes 
 at Mrs. Stout s, he had resolved to do so, his object 
 being to save the expense of other lodgings at the 
 house of a person of the name of Barefoot, where 
 
 * Ante, Eliza Fenning s Case. t 13 State Trials, 1H9. 
 
SPENCER COWPER S CASE. 115 
 
 he had been in the habit of staying with his brother. 
 Finding that his brother would be detained in Lon 
 don by his parliamentary duties, he requested him 
 to write and countermand the lodgings at Barefoot s. 
 This he neglected to do, and on Spencer Cowper s 
 arrival at Hertford he found them prepared for him. 
 Finding that he should have at any rate to pay for 
 these lodgings, which were nearer to the court 
 house and more commodious than Mrs. Stout s, he 
 determined to occupy them. His account is as fol 
 lows: 
 
 " My lord, as to my coming to this town on Mon 
 day, it was the first day of the assizes, and that was 
 the reason that brought me hither ; before I came 
 out of town, I confess, I had a design to take a 
 lodging at this gentlewoman s house, having been 
 invited by letter so to do ; and the reason why I 
 did not was this : my brother, when he went the 
 circuit, always favored me with the offer of a part 
 of his lodgings, which, out of good husbandry, I al 
 ways accepted. The last circuit was in Parliament- 
 time, and my brother being in the money-chair, 
 could not attend the circuit as he used to do ; he 
 had very good lodgings, I think one of the best in 
 this town, where I used to be with him ; these were 
 always kept for him, unless notice was given to the 
 contrary. The Friday before I came down to the 
 assizes I happened to be in company with my broth 
 er and another gentleman, and then I showed them 
 the letter by which I was earnestly invited down to 
 lie at the house of this gentlewoman during the assizes 
 [ it is dated the 9th of March last ] ; and designing 
 
 OF THE 
 
116 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 to comply with the invitation, I thereupon desired 
 my brother to write to Mr. Barefoot, our landlord, 
 and get him, if he could, to dispose of the lodgings ; 
 for, said I, if he keeps them, they must be paid 
 for, and then I cannot well avoid lying there. 
 My brother did say he would write, if he could 
 think on it ; and thus, if Mr. Barefoot disposed of 
 the lodgings, I own I intended to lie at the de 
 ceased s house; but if not, I looked on myself 
 obliged to lie at Mr. Barefoot s. Accordingly I 
 shall prove, as soon as ever I came to this town, in 
 the morning of the first day of the assizes, I went 
 directly to Mr. Barefoot s, [the maid and all agreed 
 in this] and the reason was, I had not seen my 
 brother after he said he would write, before I went 
 out to London ; and therefore it was proper for me 
 to go first to Mr. Barefoot s to know whether my 
 brother had wrote to him, and whether he had dis 
 posed of his lodgings or not. As soon as I came to 
 Mr. Barefoot s, I asked his wife and maid-servant, 
 one after another, if they had received a letter from 
 my brother to unbespeak the lodgings ; they told me 
 no, that the room was kept for us ; and I think they 
 had made a fire, and that the sheets were airing. I 
 was a little concerned he had not writ ; but being 
 satisfied that no letter had been received, I said im 
 mediately, as I shall prove by several witnesses, if 
 it be so, I must stay with you ; I will take up my 
 lodging here. Thereupon I alighted, and sent for 
 my bag to the coffee-house, and lodged all my things 
 ut Barefoot s, and thus I took up my lodging there 
 as usual. I had no sooner done this, but Sarah 
 
SPEXCER COWPER S CASE. 117 
 
 Walker came to me from her mistress to invite me 
 to dinner, and accordingly I went and dined there ; 
 and when I went away, it may be true that, being 
 asked, I said I would come again at night ; but that 
 I said I would lie there, I do positively deny; 
 and knowing I could not lie there, it is unlikely I 
 should say so. My lord, at night I did come again, 
 and paid her some money that I received from Mr. 
 Loftus, who is the mortgagor, for interest of the 
 200 I before mentioned [ it was 6, odd money, in 
 guineas and half-guineas] : I writ a receipt, but she 
 declined the signing of it, pressing me to stay there 
 that night ; which I refused, as engaged to lie at 
 Mr. Barefoot s, and took my leave of her ; and that 
 very money which I paid her was found in her 
 pocket, as I have heard, after she was drowned." * 
 
 When Cowper recurs, at a later period of the 
 trial, to the events of that night, he says : " Now, if 
 your lordship pleases, I would explain that part of 
 Sarah Walker the maid s evidence, when she says 
 her mistress ordered her to warm the bed, and I 
 never contradicted it." And after calling the at 
 tention of the court to the warm expressions con 
 tained in the letter he had received from the girl, 
 he goes on : 
 
 " I had rather leave it to be observed than make 
 the observation myself, what might be the dispute 
 between us at the time the maid speaks of. I think 
 it was not necessary she should be present at the 
 debate; and therefore I might not interrupt her 
 mistress or the orders she gave ; but as soon as the 
 
 * 13 State Trials, 1150. 
 
118 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 maid was gone I made use of these objections ; and 
 I told Mrs. Stout by what accident I was obliged 
 to take up my lodging at Mr. Barefoot s, and that 
 the family was sitting up for me ; that my staying 
 at her house under these circumstances would in 
 all probability invoke the censure, of the town and 
 country, and that therefore I could not stay, what 
 ever my inclination otherwise might be ; but, my 
 lord, my reasons not prevailing, I was forced to 
 decide the controversy by going to my lodging; 
 so that the maid may swear true when she says I 
 did not contradict her orders." * 
 
 It will be observed that Cowper first puts his 
 change of intention as to staying at Mrs. Stout s 
 solely on the ground of having other lodgings on 
 his hands. He says that until he found those lodg 
 ings Avere engaged, he had determined to take up 
 his abode at Mrs. Stout s. The question was simply 
 one of the cost of the lodgings. When, however, 
 he has to account for the servant girl s evidence as 
 to his consent to the preparations for his passing 
 the night there, orders for which were given in his 
 presence, then, for the first time, he begins to talk 
 of "provoking the censure of the town and coun 
 try." t It is impossible to know what took place 
 after the servant girl left the room. Cowper him 
 self leaves it unexplained whether he left Sarah 
 Stout in the house, or whether she quitted it at the 
 same time that he did. The latter would seem to 
 be the more probable conjecture, from the fact that 
 the door was only heard to shut once, and it was 
 
 * State Trials, 1170. t Ibid, 1177. 
 
SPENCER COTVPEK S CASE. 119 
 
 proved that it was not easy to shut the door with 
 out being heard. If Cowper had been entitled to 
 submit himself to cross-examination, these facts 
 might have been, and probably would have* been, 
 explained. 
 
 Here, not only the evidence, but the whole sub 
 stance of Cowper s defense ends. The trial was 
 prolonged by an enormous mass of testimony, partly 
 from men of the highest eminence in the medical 
 profession, and partly from persons who had seen 
 great numbers of bodies, some of which had been 
 thrown into the sea after death, and others of 
 which had been drowned in naval engagements and 
 shipwrecks, as to whether the fact of a body float 
 ing afforded any evidence that life was extinct be 
 fore it had been thrown into the water. On this 
 point the evidence was, as might be anticipated, 
 contradictory, but had it been otherwise, it would 
 have been of no value ; for the question, whether 
 Sarah Stout s body floated or sank, was not proved 
 either one way or the other. It was found en 
 tangled among some stakes in the mill-dam, in 
 a manner which rendered it impossible to say 
 whether it was supported or kept down.* There 
 
 *See the evidence of Berry .Venables, Dell, Ulfe, Dew, Edmunds, Page, 
 How, and Meager, 13 State Trials, 111G to 1122. All these witnesses, who 
 were present when the body was found in the mill-dam, agree in assert 
 ing that the "body "floated," and they no doubt believed what they 
 said, their evidence affording an example of how far a preconceived 
 idea will affect belief ; they describe the body as lying on the right side, 
 the head and right arm being driven between the stakes , which were 
 something less than a foot apart, by the stream. Robert Dew and 
 Young, who were called on behalf of the prisoner, and who were also 
 present when the body was taken out of the water, assert equally posi- 
 
120 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 was, therefore, no basis on which to found the scien 
 tific evidence, and the case against Cowper rested 
 upon a very few facts, and may be summed up 
 in very few words. He was the last person in 
 Sarah Stout s company. His conduct on leaving 
 the house was mysterious and unexplained. When 
 he left, instead of going direct to his lodgings, he 
 went to the Glove and Dolphin Inn to pay a small 
 bill for horse-keep. This had somewhat the appear 
 ance of a desire to secure evidence of an alibi. He 
 was, on his own showing, embarrassed by Sarah 
 Stout s pertinacious attachment, and had a stronger 
 motive to get rid of her than has sometimes been 
 found sufficient to prompt men to the most revolting 
 crimes. On the other hand, it must be remembered 
 that Cowper was not, like Tawell, a man who prided 
 himself on his reputation for the respectabilities of 
 life, but, as well as his more celebrated brother, a 
 man of known libertinism, not likely to commit a 
 crime of the deepest dye for the purpose of conceal 
 ing a disreputable intrigue. To have convicted 
 Cowper of murder upon this evidence would have 
 
 tively that the body sank see p. 1151. These two witnesses desci ibo 
 the mode in which the body was entangled in the states with more par 
 ticularity than the witnesses for the prosecution. The judge, in his 
 charge to the jury, treated this evidence like a man of sense. " I shall 
 not undertake," he said, " to give youtho particulars of their evidence ; 
 but they tell you she lay on her right side, the one arm up even with 
 the surface of the water, and her body under the water ; but some of 
 her clothes were above the water ; particularly, one says, the ruffles of 
 her left arm were above the water. You have heard, also, what the 
 doctors and surgeons said, on the one side and the other, concerning the 
 swimming and sinking of dead bodies in the water ; but lean find no 
 certainty in it ; and I leave it to your consideration." 13 State Trials, 
 1188. 
 
121 
 
 been, of course, impossible. But the case must ever 
 remain shrouded in the darkest mystery. If not 
 guilty of what the law defines as murder, there can be 
 no doubt that Cowper s conduct was the immediate 
 cause of the death of the unhappy girl. When the 
 servant left the room they were on the most amica 
 ble terms. This is fixed by the evidence, as nearly 
 as possible, at half-past ten by the town-clock. As 
 the clock struck eleven, Cowper entered the Glove 
 and Dolphin Inn.* In that short half-hour he had 
 either incurred the guilt of murder, or by his un- 
 kindness had driven a woman, who loved him with 
 the most devoted affection, to rush uncalled into the 
 presence of her Maker. Cowper, if not a murderer, 
 which we think he was not, must, at any rate, have 
 been a man of a singularly cold and unfeeling dispo 
 sition. According to his own version of the story, 
 the girl, whom he had left only a few moments 
 before, immediately upon his quitting her, sought a 
 refuge from her love, her sorrows, and her shame, 
 under the cold waters of the Priory river. On the 
 next morning he heard of her fate, and the first 
 thing he did was to send the hostler from the inn 
 to her mother s house for his horse, fearing lest, if 
 the coroner s jury should bring in a verdict of felo 
 de se^ the animal might, being found in her stable, 
 be claimed as forfeited to the lord of the manor. 
 From first to last there is not one word of tender 
 ness or regret. He never went near the bereaved 
 mother, but he attended the coroner s inquest, gave 
 
 * Evidence of Elizabeth Spurr, 13 State Trials, 1177. 
 PUZZLES 11. 
 
122 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 his evidence with the utmost coolness, and the next 
 day proceeded on circuit as if nothing unusual had 
 taken place. Three other persons were indicted 
 along with Cowper as the accomplices of his crime, 
 but against them there was not even the shadow of 
 a case. The jury, after deliberating for about half 
 an hour, acquitted all the prisoners. 
 
 The relatives of Sarah Stout attempted to bring 
 Cowper to a second trial by means of a proceeding 
 now abolished, entitled " The Appeal of Murder." 
 The attempt failed through the influence of the 
 Cowpers, who tampered with the sheriff, and pro 
 cured the destruction of the writs. The sheriff was 
 fined and imprisoned for his misconduct, Holt, the 
 Chief Justice, severely animadverting on the foul 
 play which had been employed to impede the course 
 of justice.* Cowper continued to ryractice at the 
 bar, and was at last raised to the bench of the Court 
 of Common Pleas, a remarkable instance of a man 
 who had held up his hand on an arraignment for 
 murder, trying others for the same offense. He is 
 said to have learned a lesson of caution and mercy 
 from his own experience, and to have been remark 
 able for both those qualities. 
 
 One might have supposed that poor Sarah Stout 
 would have been allowed to sleep in peace, without 
 having her name revived and her sad story made 
 famous more than a century and a half after her 
 death. But such was not to be her fate. The oppor 
 tunity of a double fling at Quakers and Tories has 
 been too great a temptation for Lord Macaulay. It 
 
 * Lord Raymond, i, 575, B. v. Toler 13 State Trials, 1199. 
 
123 
 
 was a right-and-left shot at the game he loved best. 
 Accordingly, in the fifth and concluding volume of 
 his History, in that part which we are told by the 
 editor he had left " fairly transcribed and revised," 
 we find four pages devoted to the case of that un 
 happy girl. The whole passage is so eloquent, so 
 picturesque, so ingenious in insinuation, so daring 
 in the misrepresentation of facts and the distortion 
 of evidence, and affords so good an epitome of the 
 best and the worst qualities of the author, that we 
 give it entire : 
 
 " One mournful tale, which called forth the strong 
 est feelings of the contending factions, is still re 
 membered as a curious part of the history of 
 our jurisprudence, and especially of the history 
 of our medical jurisprudence. No Whig member 
 of the Lower House, with the single exception of 
 Montague, filled a larger space in the public eye 
 than William Cowper. In the art of conciliating 
 an audience, Cowper was pre-eminent. His grace 
 ful and engaging eloquence cast a spell on juries ; 
 and the Commons, even in those stormy moments 
 when no other defender of the administration could 
 obtain a hearing, would always listen to him. He 
 represented Hertford, a borough in which his 
 family had considerable influence ; but there was a 
 strong Tory minority among the electors, and he 
 had not won his seat without a hard fight, which 
 had left behind it many bitter recollections. His 
 younger brother, Spencer, a man of parts and learn 
 ing, was fast rising into practice as a barrister on 
 the home circuit. 
 
124 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 "At Hertford resided an opulent Quaker family 
 named Stout. A pretty young woman of this 
 family had lately sunk into a melancholy, of a kind 
 not very unusual in girls of strong sensibility and 
 lively imagination, who are subject to the restraints 
 of austere religious societies. Her dress, her looks, 
 her gestures, indicated the disturbance of her mind. 
 She sometimes hinted her dislike of the sect to 
 which she belonged. She complained that a cant 
 ing waterman, who was one of the brotherhood, 
 had held forth against her at a meeting. She 
 threatened to go beyond sea, to throw herself out 
 of the window, to drown herself. To two or three 
 of her associates she owned that she was in love ; 
 and on one occasion she plainly said that the man 
 whom she loved was one whom she never could 
 marry. In fact, the object of her fondness was 
 Spencer Cowpcr, who was already married. She 
 at length wrote to him in language which she never 
 would have used if her intellect had not been dis 
 ordered. He, like an honest man, took no advan 
 tage of her unhappy state of mind, and did his best 
 to avoid her. His prudence mortified her to such 
 a degree that on one occasion she went into fits. 
 It was necessary, however, that he should see her 
 when he came to Hertford at the spring assizes of 
 1699, for he had been intrusted with some money 
 which was due to her on mortgage. He called on her 
 for this purpose late one evening, and delivered a 
 bag of gold to her. She pressed him to be the 
 guest of her family, but he excused himself and re 
 tired. The next morning she was found dead 
 
125 
 
 among the stakes of a mill-clam on the stream called 
 the Priory river. That she had destroyed herself 
 there could be 110 reasonable doubt. The coroner s 
 inquest found that she had drowned herself while 
 in a state of mental derangement. But the family 
 was unwilling to admit that she had shortened her 
 own life, and looked about for somebody who might 
 be accused of murdering her. The last person who 
 could be proved to have been in her company was 
 Spencer Cowper. It chanced that two attorneys 
 and a scrivener, who had come down from town to 
 the Hertford assizes, had been overheard, on that 
 unhappy night, talking over their wine about the 
 charms and flirtations of the handsome Quaker 
 girl, in the light way in which such subjects are 
 sometimes discussed even at the circuit tables and 
 mess tables of our more refined generation. Some 
 
 O 
 
 wild words, susceptible of a double meaning, were 
 used about the way in which she had jilted one 
 lover, and the way in which another lover would 
 punish her for her coquetry. On no better grounds 
 than these, her relations imagined that Spencer 
 Cowper had, with the assistance of these three re 
 tainers of the law, strangled her, and thrown her 
 corpse into the water. There was absolutely no 
 evidence of the crime. There was no evidence 
 that any one of the accused had any motive to 
 commit such a crime ; there was no evidence that 
 Spencer Cowper had any connection with the per 
 sons who were said to be his accomplices. One of 
 those persons, indeed, he had never seen. But no 
 
126 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 story is too absurd to be imposed on minds blinded 
 by religious and political fanaticism. 
 
 "The Quakers and the Tories joined to raise a 
 formidable clamor. The Quakers had, in those 
 days, no scruples about capital punishments. They 
 would, indeed, as Spencer Cowper said bitterly, but 
 too truly, rather send four innocent men to the 
 gallows than let it be believed that one who had 
 their light within her had committed suicide. The 
 Tories exulted in the prospect of winning two seats 
 from the Whigs. The whole kingdom was divided 
 between Stouts and Cowpers. At the summer 
 assizes Hertford was crowded with anxious faces 
 from London, and from parts of England more dis 
 tant than London. The prosecution was conducted 
 with a malignity and unfairness which to us seem 
 almost incredible ; and, unfortunately, the dullest 
 and most ignorant judge of the twelve was on the 
 bench. Cowper defended himself and those who 
 were said to be his accomplices with admirable 
 ability and self-possession. His brother, much more 
 distressed than himself, sat near him through the 
 long agony of that day. The case against the 
 prisoners rested chiefly on the vulgar error that a 
 human body found, as this girl s body had been 
 found, floating in water, must have been thrown 
 into the water while still alive. To prove this doc 
 trine, the counsel for the Crown called medical 
 practitioners, of whom nothing is now knoAvn ex 
 cept that some of them had been active against the 
 Whigs at Hertford elections. To confirm the 
 evidence of these gentlemen, two or three sailors 
 
SPEXCER COWPER S CASE. 127 
 
 were put into the witness-box. On the other side 
 appeared an array of men of science whose names 
 are still remembered. Among them was William 
 Cowper not a kinsman of the defendant, but the 
 most celebrated anatomist that England had then 
 produced. He was, indeed, the founder of a dynasty 
 illustrious in the history of science ; for he was the 
 teacher of William Cheselden, and William Chesel- 
 den was the teacher of John Hunter. On the same 
 side appeared Samuel Garth, who, among the physi 
 cians of the capital, had no rival except Radcliffe, 
 and Hans Sloane, the founder of the magnificent 
 museum which is one of the glories of our country. 
 The attempt of the prosecutors to make the super 
 stitions of the forecastle evidence, for the purpose 
 of taking away the lives of men, was treated by 
 these philosophers with just disdain. The stupid 
 judge asked Garth what he could say in answer to 
 the testimony of the seamen. My lord, replied 
 Garth, I say that they are mistaken. . I will find 
 seamen in abundance to swear that they have known 
 whistling raise the wind. The jury found the 
 prisoners not guilty, and the report carried back to 
 London by persons who had been present at the 
 trial was, that everybody applauded the verdict, 
 and that even the Stouts seemed to be convinced 
 of their error. It is certain, however, that the 
 malevolence of the defeated party soon revived in 
 all its energy. The lives of the four men who had 
 just been absolved were again attacked by means 
 of the most absurd and odious proceeding known 
 to our old law, the appeal of murder. This attack, 
 
128 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 too, failed. Every artifice of chicane was at length 
 exhausted ; and nothing was left to the disappointed 
 sect and the disappointed faction except to calum 
 niate those whom it had been found impossible to 
 murder. In a succession of libels, Spencer Cowper 
 was held up to the execration of the public. But 
 the public did him justice. He rose to high emi 
 nence in his profession; he at length took his seat, 
 with general applause, on the judicial bench, and 
 there distinguished himself by the humanity which 
 he never failed to show to unhappy men who stood, 
 as he had stood, at the bar. Many who seldom 
 trouble themselves about pedigrees may be interest 
 ed by learning that he was the grandfather of that 
 excellent man and excellent poet, William Co \vper, 
 whose writings have long been peculiarly loved and 
 prized by the members of the religious community 
 which, under a strong delusion, sought to slay his 
 innocent progenitor.* 
 
 " Though Spencer Cowper had escaped with life 
 and honor, the Tories had carried their point. They 
 hail secured against the next election the support of 
 the Quakers of Hertford ; and the consequence was, 
 that the borough was lost to the family and to the 
 party which had lately predominated there." 
 
 Notwithstanding the fact that Lord Macaulay lias 
 
 *" It is curious that all Cowper s biographers with whom I am ac 
 quainted Hayley, Southey, Grimshawe, Chalmers mention the judge, 
 the common ancestor of the p jet, of his first love, Theodora Cowper, 
 and of Lady Hesketh, but that none of these biographers makes the 
 faintest allusion to the Hertford trial, the most remarkable event in the 
 history of the family ; nor do I believe that any allusion to that trial 
 can be found in any of the poet s numerous letters." 
 
CASE. 129 
 
 given so large a space to this case, lie has read it 
 with more than ordinary carelessness. He says: 
 " The case against the prisoner rested chiefly on the 
 vulgar error that a human body found, as this poor 
 girl s body had been found, floating in the water, must 
 have been thrown into the water while still alive" * 
 The argument was exactly the reverse. It was 
 urged that the fact of her body floating proved that 
 she was thrown into the water after she was dead; 
 and it was sought to be inferred that she had been 
 strangled that if, as was argued on behalf of the 
 prisoner, she had drowned herself, her body would 
 have been filled with water, and would have sunk. 
 The evidence as to whether the body did in fact 
 float or sink, was, as we have seen, contradictory. 
 The post mortem examination was delayed so long 
 that the medical testimony had really no foundation 
 of facts to rest upon. At the trial an attempt was 
 made, on the part of the prisoner, to establish the 
 insanity of the girl ; but nothing more was proved 
 than might be easily shown to have occurred in the 
 case of any love-sick girl who was, or fancied her 
 self, the victim of an unrequited passion. Lord 
 Macaulay s treatment of this evidence is amusing. 
 Three of the circumstances en which he relies to 
 prove her insanity are : 1st, That " she sometimes 
 hinted a dislike of the sect to which she belonged," 
 which is rather an odd proof of insanity in the 
 mouth of Lord Macaulay; 2d, That "she com 
 plained that a canting waterman, who was one of 
 the brethren, had h<?ld forth against her at a meet- 
 
 *Vol. v, 238. 
 
130 JUDICIAL riTZZLES. 
 
 ing " (which happened to be true, and seems to bo 
 a tolerably reasonable ground of annoyance) ; and, 
 3d, That " to two or three of her associates she 
 owned she was in love." ( Alas for all young ladies 
 from sixteen upwards, in white satin, and their con 
 fidantes in white linen, if this is to be taken as a 
 proof of insanity ! ) But when Lord Macaulay 
 comes to the facts connected with Cowper s Avrit- 
 ing to announce his intention of staying at the 
 house, his dining there, his return in the evening, 
 and his mysterous disappearance at night simul 
 taneously with the girl, he condenses them into the 
 following words : " He, like an honest man, took no 
 advantage of her unhappy state of mind, and did his 
 best to avoid her " (it was, to say the least, an odd 
 mode of avoiding her that he adopted). "It was 
 necessary, however, that he should see her when lie 
 came to Hertford at the spring assizes of 1099, 
 for he had been intrusted with some money 
 which was due to her on mortgage. He called on 
 her, for this purpose, late one evening, and de 
 livered a bag of gold to her." (The " bag " exists 
 only in Lord Macaulay s imagination the " gold " 
 was the petty sum of six pounds and a few odd 
 shillings, which Cowper had received for her as in 
 terest on a sum of 200 which he had placed out on 
 mortgage on her behalf, and the payment of which 
 certainly did not make it necessary that he should 
 be with her from two till four, and again from nine 
 till half-past ten at night.) " She pressed him," adds 
 Lord Macaulay, " to be the guest of the family, but 
 he excused himself and retired" 
 
SPENCER COWPER S CASE. 131 
 
 It is worth while, as a matter of philological curi 
 osity, to enumerate over again the facts which one 
 of the greatest masters of the English language can 
 compress into the phrase " he excused himself and 
 retired." Cowper went to the house on his arrival 
 in the town, dined there with the family, left at four, 
 returned at nine, supped, wrote his letters, was 
 present whilst his bed and his bedroom fire were 
 ordered and the maid was sent up to warm his bed ; 
 sat alone until half-past ten o clock at night with a 
 girl who he knew was violently in love with him, 
 who had been in the habit of addressing the most 
 passionate letters to him under a feigned name, and 
 then " abiit excessit evasit erupit" His de 
 parture only announced by the slamming-to of the 
 street-door. This is Lord s Macaulay s notion of 
 " excusing himself and retiring." He and the girl 
 disappeared together. In the morning he is at other 
 lodgings in the town, and she a corpse in the mill- 
 dam. 
 
 For the charge that Lord Macaulay makes that 
 " the prosecution was conducted with a malignity 
 and unfairness which to us seem almost incredible," 
 we cannot discover the slightest ground. Certainly 
 none is to be found in the very ample and detailed 
 report in the " State Trials." Indeed, a far greater 
 latitude was allowed to the prisoner in his defense 
 than would be permitted at the present day. What 
 authority Lord Macaulay may have had for describ 
 ing Hatsell, who presided at the trial, as "the 
 dullest and most ignorant judge of the twelve," we 
 know not. He seems to have tried the case with 
 
132 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 strict impartiality and very fair ability, and his 
 charge to the jury was decidedly in favor of the 
 prisoners. 
 
 We have frequently had occasion to remark upon 
 the caution which ought to be observed before rely 
 ing upon Lord Macaulay s marks of quotation. An 
 amusing instance of this occurs in the passage we 
 have just cited. A sailor of the name of Clement 
 deponed that he had frequently observed that when 
 a corpse was thrown into the sea it floated ; where 
 as, if a man fell into the water and was drowned, 
 his body sank as soon as life was extinct. In con 
 firmation of this, he cited his own experience at the 
 fight off Beachy Head, where the bodies of the men 
 who were killed floated about ; and at a shipwreck, 
 where between five and six hundred men were 
 drowned, whose bodies sank. This evidence was 
 curious, and if it had been proved whether Sarah 
 Stout s body floated or sank, would have been val 
 uable. The judge felt, no doubt, that it was so ; 
 and when Garth swore that " it was impossible the 
 body should have floated," and boldly stated his be 
 lief that " all dead bodies fall to the bottom unless 
 they be prevented by some extraordinary tumor," ^ 
 he directed his attention to the evidence which had 
 been given, and asked him " what he said as to the 
 sinking of dead bodies in water ? " Garth replied 
 that, " if a strangled body be thrown into the water, 
 the lungs being filled with air, and a cord left about 
 the neck, it was possible it might float, because of 
 
 * 13 State Trials, 1157. 
 
133 
 
 the included air, as a bladder would." Upon this 
 the judge called his attention to the question as fol 
 lows: 
 
 "J3aro?i Hatsell. But you do not observe my 
 question : the seamen said that those that die at sea 
 and are thrown overboard, if you do not tie a weight 
 to them, they will not sink what do you say to 
 that? 
 
 "Dr. Garth. My lord, no doubt in this thing 
 they are mistaken. The seamen are a superstitious 
 people : they fancy that whistling at sea will occa 
 sion a tempest. I must confess I have never seen 
 anybody thrown overboard ; but I have tried some 
 experiments on other dead animals, and they will 
 certainly sink ; we have tried them since we came 
 hither." * 
 
 Now in this, we confess, it seems to us that the 
 judge appears to greater advantage than the physi 
 cian. Garth was evidently desirous to evade the 
 question, and he attempted to do so by a sneer. 
 The superstition of the sailors had nothing to do 
 with the question whether a man killed in battle 
 and falling into the water floats or sinks. Garth 
 was compelled to admit that he had no experience 
 on the subject. He said, and said truly, that "the 
 object of tying weights to a body is to prevent it 
 from floating at all, which otherwise would happen 
 in some few days." t The well-known instance of 
 the floating of the body of Caracciolo, notwithstand 
 ing the weights which were attached to his feet, 
 
 * State Trials, 1158. t Ibid. 
 
 PUZZLES 1 a. 
 
134 JUDICIAL PUZZLES 
 
 will occur at once to the mind of the reader. The 
 inquiry of the judge was pertinent to the evidence, 
 and the reply might have been material to the ques 
 tion of the guilt or innocence of the prisoner. Lord 
 Macaulay disposes of both question and answer in 
 the following words : " The stupid judge asked 
 Garth what he could say in answer to the testimony 
 of the seamen. My lord, replied Garth, c I say 
 that they are mistaken. I Avill find seamen in 
 abundance to swear that they have known whistling 
 raise the wind. " There was no stupidity that we 
 can discover in the question, and the answer is mis 
 quoted. 
 
 Lord Macaulay, however, does not trouble him 
 self with the facts of the case. He finds for once 
 the Quakers and the Tories united, (or rather, we 
 ought to say, he assumes their union; for from 
 first to last in the trial there is not a particle of evi 
 dence that political feeling intervened) and he in 
 fers that they could only be united for the purpose 
 of committing a judicial murder; that the object of 
 the Quakers was to " send four innocent men to the 
 gallows rather than let it be believed that one who 
 had their light within her had committed suicide," * 
 and that the Tories were urged on to the same 
 atrocity by "the prospect of winning two seats 
 from the Whigs." Lord Macaulay makes no ac 
 count of the feelings that would be awakened 
 amongst relations, friends, and neighbors, by the 
 sudden and violent death of a young and beautiful 
 girl, who, whether murdered or not, had unques- 
 
 * Vol. v, 237. 
 
135 
 
 tionably been cruelly trifled with by a man who, if 
 not directly, was at any rate indirectly the cause of 
 her death. "Religious and political fanaticism" 
 are motives the power of which Lord Macaulay 
 was certainly not likely to underrate. Yet it might 
 have been supposed that the religion of Sarah Stout 
 was one which he would have been disposed to 
 treat, if not with respect, at least with tenderness, 
 however mistaken his more mature convictions might 
 lead him to consider it to be. 
 
 "We have ourselves little sympathy with the pe 
 culiar tenets and habits of the Quakers. It is diffi 
 cult for any one to write with perfect justice about 
 that very singular sect. A body of Christians who 
 make it part of their religion to observe the strict 
 est rules of grammar in the use of the singular and 
 plural of the personal pronouns, whilst they habit 
 ually violate them as to the nominative and accusa 
 tive ; whose consciences are tender as to buttons ; 
 who hold gay colors to be " unfriendly," whilst they 
 delight in the richest and most costly fabrics ; who 
 shrink from the hypocrisy of addressing a stranger 
 as " Dear Sir," while they have no scruple in call 
 ing the man they most despise " Respected Friend," 
 merely commit amusing eccentricities. The evil is 
 much more serious when they proscribe all those 
 arts which tend most to brighten our course through 
 
 O O 
 
 life. Literature, except of the most dreary kind, is 
 prohibited to strict Friends. We once made a 
 passing allusion to Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck, in conver 
 sation with one of the most eminent Quakers of the 
 day, a member of a learned profession, and discov- 
 
136 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 cred, to our astonishment, that he was in total igno 
 rance of the " Waverly Novels." Another vener 
 able and strict Friend, seeing a volume lettered 
 " Horatii Opera " on the table of one of his laxer 
 brethren, shook his head gravely, and said, " Thou 
 knowest, friend, that we have a testimony against 
 all operas." Nothing can be conceived more deso 
 late than a pure Quaker library : Barclay s "Apolo 
 gy" and Baxter s "Saint s Rest," Penn s "No 
 Cross, no Crown," and George Fox s " Journal " 
 perhaps, by extraordinary good fortune, " Paradise 
 Lost " and " The Task " all excellent in their way, 
 but not exactly the books to while away a tedious 
 hour ; and one looks in vain for Shakespeare and 
 Scott, for Pope or Fielding. Painting and music 
 share the same fate. Now and then, however, hap 
 pily, the old Adam is too strong, and such arts are 
 cultivated either " clandecently," as Mawworrn 
 says, or in open defiance of the yearly meeting. 
 Gastronomy is the only one of the liberal arts that 
 nourishes unrestrained. The Quakers arc a hos 
 pitable people; their dinners are excellent and 
 their wines super-excellent. The whitest linen, the 
 most brilliant silver, and the most sparkling glass, 
 are to be found at their tables. They indulge, 
 not to excess, but silently and thankfully, in these 
 good things, and a certain serious rotundity has in 
 consequence become hereditary amongst them. The 
 late Lord Macaulay himself inherited something of 
 this formation, modified, however, by the admixture 
 which his blood had received from the lean and 
 hungry Celts to whom he owed his Highland name. 
 
SPEXCER COWPER S CASE. 137 
 
 This formation is no doubt unfavorable to great 
 personal activity ; but personal activity is of little 
 import to a Quaker. Field sports, and their at 
 tendant festivities of all kinds, are prohibited. A 
 Quaker thinks of a hunt-ball as if it were a war 
 dance of wild Indians. But here, again, nature will 
 sometimes assert her rights. We have known a 
 Quaker to be an excellent judge of a horse, and 
 some of the best heavy weights across the Pytchly 
 and Warwickshire countries have been of pure 
 Quaker blood. We once heard of a Quaker horse- 
 dealer. But of all strange sights, a Quaker child is 
 the strangest. To find a little curly-headed darling 
 of four or five years old, who, instead of climbing 
 on one s knee, and insisting vociferously on a game 
 at romps or a fairy story before it will go to bed, 
 walks off demurely with a " Fare thee well, friend," 
 is enough to make one s hair stand on end. 
 
 Early as this discipline begins, it is pleasant to 
 find that nature is sometimes too strong for it. We 
 have lately met with a narrative (published within 
 the last six months) of a Quaker journey in Amer 
 ica, writ by one William Tallack, a Friend, who, if 
 we are to judge of him by his book, must be dry 
 enough to satisfy the most nervous dread of any 
 approach to that humidity which constitutes a " wet 
 Quaker " a being peculiarly abhorrent to consist 
 ent Friends. After devoting many pages to bon 
 nets with round crowns, and bonnets with square 
 crowns, buttons and straps, knee shorts, and " slit 
 collars," and those still more execrable abomina 
 tions, "turned-down collars with slits in them" 
 
138 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 (though, we confess, without making it by any 
 means clear to one of the profane what constitutes 
 a slit collar) ; after recording how one Elias Hicks 
 "felt that his conscience required the relinquish- 
 ment of unnecessary buttons to his coat," and com 
 pelled him to " turn up a cushion in the meeting, 
 and to seat himself 011 the hard board," * he gives 
 some extracts from the records of the Quakers 
 meeting, amongst which it is really refreshing to 
 meet the passions and the foibles of poor human 
 nature. 
 
 Here is the confession of a warm-tempered 
 Friend, who probably would have been all tho bet 
 ter for the cooling discipline he administered to his 
 neighbor, even at the risk of the dreaded conse 
 quence of becoming " wet." 
 
 "Whereas, I contended with my neighbor,W. S., 
 for what I apprehended to be my right, by endeav 
 oring to turn a certain stream of water into its natu 
 ral course, till it rose to a personal difference, in 
 which dispute I gave way to warmth of temper so far 
 as to put my friend W. into the pond; for which 
 action of mine, being contrary to the good order of 
 Friends, I am sorry, and desire, through divine as 
 sistance, *to live in unity with him for the future." f 
 
 *It is to be hoped that Elias Hicks never became subject to tho incon 
 venient delusion recorded by Mclauder of an unhappy man, "qui opinas 
 tus cst, ex vitro sibi constatas clunes, sic ut omnia sua negotia p.tque 
 actioues stando perficeret, inetucns, uc, si in sedilo so inclinaret, iiate- 
 confringeret, ac vitri fragmcnta hinc iiidc dissilirent." Melan., Joco- 
 Scria, 433. 
 
 + Friendly Sketches in America, by William Tallack. 
 
SPENCER COWPER S CASE. 139 
 
 But it is not to wrath alone that Friends some 
 times give way. A gentler passion occasionally 
 hurries fchem beyond the bounds of what is strictly 
 " friendly." 
 
 " Whereas, I was too forward and hasty in making 
 suit to a young woman after the death of my wife, 
 haying made some proceedings that way in less 
 than four months, which I am now sensible was 
 wrong. As witness my hand, R. H." * 
 
 Even that peaceful union which we are bound to 
 suppose a Quaker marriage to be (by the way, what 
 a very odd proceeding a Quaker courtship must be ! 
 how do they get married at all ?) is sometimes dis 
 turbed by the sinful passions of humanity. Thus 
 we find that the " Concord preparation-meeting com 
 plains of J. P. S. for breach of his marriage cove 
 nants in refusing to live with his wife, as a faithful 
 husband ought to do." 
 
 Nor does the traveler fail to observe the hospital 
 ity which we have already noticed as so commenda 
 ble amongst Friends, but which is sometimes carried 
 to an inconvenient excess. 
 
 "At meals," he says, " there is generally several 
 times the quantity of food placed upon the table 
 which could possibly be eaten by the heartiest appe 
 tites of those present, and plates are piled with so 
 much that they are seldom empty at the end of the 
 meal. * * It is usual to help a visitor to two 01 
 three slices of pie at a time." 
 
 * Friendly Sketches in America, 195. 
 
140 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 Times have certainly changed amongst the Quak 
 ers since 
 
 * 
 
 " Brother Green was feasted 
 With a spiritual collation 
 By our frugal mayor, 
 Who can dine with a prayer, 
 And sup with an exhortation." 
 
 Still it must be admitted by all candid men that 
 Quakerism has its estimable as well as its ridiculous 
 side, and that a sect which can number amongst its 
 followers such men as William Penn, Elwood, the 
 friend of Milton, Barclay, Clarkson, Reynolds, the 
 philanthropist, and Dalton, the philosopher, deserves 
 a treatment far different from that which it has re 
 ceived from Lord Macaulay. To assert, without 
 one particle of evidence to support the statement, 
 that the Quakers deliberately planned a judicial 
 murder to conceal the fact that one of their body 
 had committed suicide, is just as monstrous as to 
 impute to the Tories that they were accomplices in 
 the crime. This unscrupulous treatment of facts, 
 and equally unscrupulous suggestion of motives, is 
 one of the most dangerous weapons a combatant 
 can w r ield. No instrument of attack is so easily 
 turned against the party making use of it. If a 
 historian could be found equally unscrupulous as 
 Lord Macaulay, and as deeply imbued with opposite 
 prejudices, nothing would be easier than to para 
 phrase his account of Spencer Cowper s trial almost 
 in his own words, and with far less departure from 
 the facts. The narrative would then assume some 
 thing of the following form : "At Hertford resided 
 
OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 SPENCER COAVPER^S^HLIMI. r 141 
 
 a respectable Quaker family named Stout. One 
 daughter, a beautiful girl of strong sensibility and 
 lively imagination, formed a deep attachment to 
 Spencer Cowper. He trifled with her affections, 
 took every advantage of her unhappy state of mind, 
 and then cast her off and married another woman. 
 Her almost frantic attachment still continued. She 
 wrote letters to him breathing the deepest passion. 
 He paraded them before his brother (who was a 
 man of notoriously loose habits) and his other profli 
 gate associates. When he came to the Hertford 
 spring assizes in 1699, he went direct to her moth 
 er s house. He dined and supped there ; he spent 
 the evening in affectionate conversation with the 
 girl he had betrayed. His bed was prepared in the 
 house, and the servant-girl was sent up to warm it. 
 Spencer Cowper and Sarah Stout were left together 
 in the parlor from that moment she was never 
 seen alive. They left the house together at half- 
 past ten at night, and in the morning her corpse 
 was discovered in the mill-dam. It would perhaps 
 be going too far to assert that Cowper was certainly 
 her murderer, but the case was one of the darkest 
 suspicion. He was placed upon his trial for murder, 
 but to anticipate a conviction would have been ab 
 surd. The law closed the mouth of the principal 
 witness, the mother of the girl, for she was a Quaker, 
 and could not take an oath. The judge, a friend of 
 the Cowpers, indulged the prisoner in a degree of 
 license in his defense which in the present day 
 would not be tolerated. The Cowpers were power 
 ful in Hertford, which was represented in Parlia- 
 
142 JUDICIAL PUZZLES. 
 
 ment by the father and the brother of the prisoner. 
 Every artifice that could influence the minds of the 
 jury against Quakers and Tories was resorted to. 
 Every prejudice of religious or political fanaticism 
 against an unpopular sect and an obnoxious party 
 was appealed to. The consequence was that Cow- 
 per was acquitted. An attempt was made to place 
 him on his trial a second time by means of an ap 
 peal of murder, a proceeding which Lord Holt, in 
 this very case, designated as a noble badge of the 
 liberties of an Englishman. But here again the in 
 fluence of the powerful family of the Cowpers par 
 alyzed the arm of justice. The sheriff was tam 
 pered with and the writ destroyed. The sheriff 
 paid the penalty of his misconduct by imprisonment 
 and fine, and was subjected to a severe rebuke from 
 Lord Holt. The Cowpers triumphed, but their ex 
 ultation was short. Outraged humanity vindicated 
 its rights. The press teemed with indignant pam- 
 plets, and at the next election both the Cowpers 
 were ignominiously ejected from the representation 
 of their native town." ^ 
 
 Such is the mode in which this subject may be 
 treated, when, as in the old fable, the lion turns 
 sculptor. It is far nearer the truth than Lord 
 Macaulay s own. To gratify his political and 
 family aversions, Lord Macaulay lias raked up the 
 
 * " It is hardly necessary to remind any sudent of English history that 
 Spencer Cowper and Sarah Stout are the Mosco and Zara of The New 
 Atlantis. See Vol. i, 106, 174, for a very fwll account of this unhappy 
 transaction. Lord Macaulay, who has drawn largely upon the stores of 
 this work in other instances, appears to have overlooked the; fact that 
 this narrative was to be found in the pages of a contemporary historian, 
 whose character for accuracy is second only to his own." 
 
SPEXCER COWPER S CASE. 143 
 
 ashes of poor Sarah Stout, and has revived a very 
 discreditable incident in the history of a very 
 eminent family. He expresses surprise that none 
 of the biographers of the poet Cowper should have 
 alluded to this adventure of his grandfather. An 
 old proverb might have told him that there are 
 certain families amongst whom it is a breach of 
 good manners to make any mention of "hemp." 
 We think it was Quin who once introduced Foote 
 to a company as " a gentleman whose father was 
 hanged for murdering his uncle." Polite and pious 
 biographers, such as Hayley and Southey, generally 
 avoid all allusion to such disagreeable subjects. 
 Lord Macaulay is puzzled by what appears to him 
 unnecessary delicacy, and has made the whole 
 scandalous story (for scandalous it must remain, 
 even taking the most favorable view) as notorious 
 as possible. Where one reader dives into the 
 " State Trials," a thousand will read Lord Macaulay s 
 fifth volume ; and all the world now has the advan 
 tage of knowing that the grandfather of "that 
 excellent man, and excellent poet," as Lord Macau- 
 lay justly calls William Cowper, behaved extremely 
 ill to a pretty Quaker girl, and htid a narrow escape 
 from being hanged for murdering her. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Abduction of female, 10. 
 
 motives for, 15. 
 
 of W. Harrison, 45. 
 
 and murder of boy, 30. 
 Acquittaleffect of, 104. 
 
 by verdict, 122. 
 
 Admission of disreputable character, 25. 
 Alibi plea of, 18, 19. 
 
 controverting evidence of, 34. 
 
 creating evidence of, 120. 
 Altham, Lord memoir of, 69, 
 Auglesea, Lord account of, 71. 
 .Annesley case of, 69. 
 
 James, account of, 70. 
 
 Richard, attempt at abduction by, 83. 
 
 abduction of nephew, 84. 
 Appeal of murder proceedings abolished, 122. 
 
 how esteemed by Lord Holt, 142. 
 Arrest on suspicion 52, 61. 
 Assertions of innocence on. -scaffold, value of, 99. 
 
 B. 
 
 Bennett evidence of, 14. 
 
 Breadheid, Janet executed for witchcraft, 57. 
 
 PTZZLES 13. [ 145 1 
 
146 INDEX. 
 
 Brodie, Margaret witchcraft of, 54, 
 
 attempt at assassination, 55. 
 Bush protector of Jamea Annesley, 82. 
 
 o. 
 
 Calplmrnius, Flaccus on voluntary confession, 67, 
 
 Campden, Lady 39. 
 
 Campden Wonder 37. 
 
 Canning, Elizabeth case of, 9. 
 
 Capital punishment innocent victim of, S3, 
 
 scruples of Quakers, 126. 
 
 Chitty, Alderman examination before, 1G, 22. 
 Civil suits parties competent as witnesses, 106. 
 Clare, Philip false accusation against, 60. 
 Clarke, William statement of, 25. 
 Cobb, Mary evidence of, 33. 
 Confessions as evidence, 43. 
 
 of crime, delusions, 65. 
 
 as voice of conscience, 66. 
 
 voluntary, regarded with suspicion, 67. 
 
 of guilt, 99. 
 
 Confirmatory evidence to be scrutinized, 30. 
 Conviction of accused, 26. 
 
 on confessions, 52. 
 
 when virtual acquittal, 103. 
 Coroner s inquest insufficiency of, 114. 
 Corpus delicti to be proved, 52. 
 Cowper, Spencer case of, 109. 
 
 statement of, 114. 
 
 explanation of circumstances, 117. 
 Cowper, William self-conviction of crime, 51. 
 
 account of, 127, 
 
 trial of grandfather for murder, 128. 
 
 character of, 143. 
 Crime incentives to, 30. 
 
 suspicious circumstances, 40. 
 
 suspicion by charging innocent party, 95. 
 
INDEX. 147 
 
 Crime Co ntinued. 
 
 imaginary commission of, 59. 
 
 motives for, pp. 79, 84. 
 Crimes evidence of guilt, 96. 
 
 absence of notice to exculpate, 97, 125. 
 
 hatred as an incentive to, 98. 
 
 public indignation at, 106. 
 Criminal right to exculpate himself, 106. 
 Crim. con. clandestine correspondence, 110. 
 
 betrayal of secrets, 110. 
 Criminal jurisprudence of French courts, 101. 
 
 of continental states, 101. 
 Criminal practice prohibition of examination of criminal 
 
 as witness, 100. 
 Cross-examination of culprit, effect of, 105, 
 
 of witnesses, 113. 
 
 D. 
 
 Dallas, "William examination before, 53. 
 Dead bodies floating properties of, 132, 133. 
 Defense what conclusive of falsehood, 26. 
 Delusions impressions from, 51. 
 
 accordance with prevailing belief, 53, 
 
 intercourse with the devil, 55. 
 
 self-conviction of guilt, 58, 64. 
 
 of a monomaniac, 59. 
 
 confessions of murder under, 65. 
 Description of place, 12. 
 
 of accessory, 13-16. 
 
 of person, coincidences, 33. 
 Disappearance mysterious account of, 44. 
 Divorce proceedings on false ground, 59. 
 
 case of on delusions, 63. 
 Dyer, Daniel evidence of, 33. 
 
148 
 
 Eccles, Betty trial of, 97. 
 Eggleston accidental shooting of, 71. 
 Eliza Fenning s case, 87. 
 Elizabeth Canning s case, 9. 
 Emsley, Mrs. murder of, 99, 
 Escape from durance, 13. 
 Evidence effect of suspicion, 28. 
 
 suspicious circumstances, 120. 
 
 when incompetent, 24, 25. 
 
 circumstantial, 31. 
 
 extrinsic confirmation, 32. 
 
 identity of person, 33. 
 
 weight of on question of alibi, 34. 
 
 contradictory, effect of, 73, 80, 119 
 
 effect of lapse of time, 76. 
 
 suspicion from failure to produce witness, 85. 
 
 statement of prisoner, 94. 
 
 facts implying innocence, 94. 
 
 extracting truth by torture, 105. 
 
 effect of excluding testimony of accused, 114. 
 
 conjectures from facts, 118. 
 
 of scientific experts, 126. 
 Execution of innocent person, 188. 
 
 by hanging in chains, 44. 
 Experts as witnesses on scientific subject, 126. 
 
 Factions created by trials at law, 27. 
 Fairyland visit to, 55. 
 Fanaticism religious and political, 126. 
 Fenning, Eliza case of, 87, 
 
 Fielding, Henry as novelist and magistrate, 20. 
 opinion in Canning s case, 21. 
 
IXDEX. 149 
 
 Fitzgerald, Major testimony of, 73. 
 Floating body inferences from, 114. 
 Forbes, Harie confessions made to, 53. 
 Forfeiture for carrying contraband, 48. 
 
 GK 
 
 Gadsden evidence of, 93. 
 
 Garth, Samuel evidence as expert, 127. 
 
 Gascoigne Lord Mayor, 27. 
 
 Gibbons, John statement of, 25. 
 
 Gipseys as factionists, 27. 
 
 Gleeson, Wilson case of, 30. 
 
 Gowdie, Isabell confession of witchcraft, 53. 
 
 execution of, 57. 
 
 Greville, Thomas evidence of, 25. 
 Guilt sufficient evidence of, 97. 
 Guilty person armor of law around, 101. 
 
 H. 
 
 Haley biographer, 143. 
 
 Hall, Virtue examination of, 22. 
 
 Hallucination self-conviction under, 50, 58. 
 
 .See INSANITY. 
 
 Harrison, W. reputed murder of, 39. 
 Hatsell, Judge trial before, character of, 131. 
 Hay, Bessie delusions of, 56. 
 Heineccius confessions defined, 66. 
 Hempen widow defined, 26. 
 Hendricksoii, Mrs. murder of, 100. 
 Hicks, Sir B. proprietor of Campden House, 37. 
 Historians perversion of facts by, 140. 
 Holt, Lord appeal of murder, how designated, 142. 
 Hopley, Elizabeth case of, 60. 
 House of ill fame what not, 30. 
 Human passions of Quakers, 139. 
 
150 INDEX. 
 
 Identity proof of, 18, 19. 
 
 Imprisonment of sheriff for misconduct, 122, 142. 
 
 Incantations to the devil, 56, 57. 
 
 Indictment several parties jointly, 122. 
 
 Information of robbery and abduction, 22. 
 
 Inhumanity exhibition of by audience in court-room, 2G. 
 
 Imser evidence of, 25. 
 
 Innocence proved after execution, 50. 
 
 legal presumption of, 101. 
 Insanity impressions produced, 51, 62, 64. 
 
 self-iiioulpation of guilt, 58, 65, 67. 
 
 forms of, 59. 
 
 attempt to prove on trial, 129. 
 
 insufficient proof of, 129. 
 
 inferred from voluntary confession, 67. 
 Instruction to jury on conflicting testimony, 34. 
 Issues virtual admissions on, 72. 
 
 to be jointly tried, 103. 
 
 J. 
 
 Jack Cade evidence to prove royal descent, 16. 
 Jealousy as an insane delusion, 58. 
 Judicial incompetency 88. 
 Jurisprudence anomalies in, 101. 
 
 rules of not to be set aside, 106. 
 
 criminal, ultimate object of, 106. 
 
 extra judicial inquiry, 106, 
 
 K. 
 
 Kidnapping motive requisite, 49. 
 
INDEX. 151 
 
 Laffan, Joan evidence of, 77. 
 Laird of Parkis enchantment of, 57. 
 Landy, Joan alleged issue of, 81. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaulay, Lord remarks as to Quakers and Tories, 122. 
 
 criticism on, 123, 129. 
 
 Mackenzie, Sir G. observations on witchcraft, 58. 
 Magistrate examination before, 20. 
 
 commitment and discharge, 20. 
 Marriage by Quakers, 139. 
 Malice insufficient cause for, 92. 
 Martiu, Jean delusion of, 56. 
 Maternal solicitude strength of, 113. 
 Melancholy insanity 67. 
 Mental disease self-conviction, 50. 
 Monomaniac delusions of, 59. 
 Motive absence of as an argument of innocence, 29, 
 
 for crime, sufficiency of, 97. 
 
 religious and political fanaticism, 135. 
 Mullins execution for murder, 99. 
 Murder by starvation, 30. 
 
 by poisoning, 98. 
 
 accusation of, 109. 
 
 insufficient evidence of, 120. 
 Murder and robbery 41. 
 Murphy, Eleanor evidence of, 81. 
 Myers, Mary statement of, 13. 
 
 N. 
 
 Natus, Fortune testimony of, 20, 29. 
 Natus, Judith arrest of, 23. 
 
152 INDEX. 
 
 Negligence in keeping poisons, 91. 
 Neshie, Elspetli delusions of, 56. 
 Neville, Eveline murder of, 98. 
 Noel, Lord 37, 
 
 o. 
 
 Outraged humanity vindication of, 142. 
 Overbury, Sir Thomas 44. 
 
 Palliser, Tom plot against, 77. 
 
 statement of, 78. 
 
 Pardon on weight of evidence, 27. 
 Pedigree evidence of, 71. 
 
 issues on trial, 72. 
 
 facts to prove, 7G. 
 
 Peer, Sarah suspicions against, 92, 
 Penalty for misconduct of sheriff, 122, 142. 
 Perjury contradiction of witnesses, 20, 81. 
 
 arraignment for, 28. 
 
 grounds of action for, 28. 
 
 when inferred, 81, 103. 
 
 indictment for, 85. 
 
 Perry, John suspected of murder, 39 
 Philological curiosity 131. 
 Pigot, Captain murder of, G5. 
 Plot against wife, 77. 
 Plummer, Eugenia offense committed on, 102, 
 
 conviction for perjury, 103. 
 Poisoning crime of, 90. 
 
 poison, procurement of, 91. 
 
 negligence in keeping, 91. 
 
 suspicious circumstances, 93. 
 
 habit of, 98. 
 Purcell protector of J. Aimesley, 82. 
 
INDEX. 153 
 
 Quaker incompetent as witness, 112. 
 
 historical remarks about, 122. 
 
 scruples as to capital punishment, 126. 
 
 literature of, 135. 
 
 character and habits of, 136. 
 
 amusements of, 137. 
 
 prudence of, 138. 
 
 subject to human passions, 139. 
 
 marriages by, 139. 
 
 hospitalities of, 139. 
 Quakeress story of, 110. 
 Quakerism considered, 140. 
 
 false imputations against, 14&, 
 Quin anecdote of, 143. 
 
 B. 
 
 Ramsay the painter, 27. 
 Rape accusation of, 102. 
 Redding gamekeeper, 70. 
 Road Murder, The 106. 
 Robbery in Moorfields, 9, 
 
 s. 
 
 Salt solicitor, 21. 
 Scarratt, Robert statement of, 13. 
 Seduction and betrayal 110. 
 Self-inculpation falsity of, 64. 
 Sentence to death penalty, 26. 
 
 to brnnding and imprisonment, 26. 
 
 respste, grounds of, 27. 
 Separation of husband and wife, grounds for, 72. 
 
154 INDEX. 
 
 Shakspeare boyhood haunts of, 37. 
 Sheriff penalty for misconduct, 122, 142. 
 Southey biographer, 143. 
 Spencer Cowper s case 109. 
 Squires, Mary charge against, 18. 
 
 arraignment of, 25. 
 Squires, George evidence of, 19. 
 Statements on suggestion, value of, 13. 
 
 of abducted female, credibility of, 14-17. 
 Stout, Sarah alleged murder of, 1G9. 
 Suspicion of crime, 18. 
 
 T. 
 
 Teshmaker examination before, 20, 29. 
 Thomas the Rhymer visit to fairyland, 55. 
 Tigh protector of J. Annesley, 84. 
 Tories Macaulay s strictures on, 122. 
 Trial renunciation of confession, 43 
 
 for witchcraft, 58. 
 
 for recovery of estate, issues on, 71. 
 
 denials and subsequent admissions, 81. 
 
 effect of abandonment of statements, 96. 
 
 malignant and unfair conduct of, 131. 
 Turner, John evidence of, 75. 
 
 Mrs., examination of, 93, 94. 
 
 Orlibar, poisoning of, 90. 
 
 Robert, poisoning of, 89. 
 
 Sir Christopher, 52. 
 
 u. 
 
 Unfortunate denned, 26. 
 
ENDEX. 155 
 
 V. 
 
 Verdict inconsistency of, 35. 
 
 inferences from findings, 85, 86. 
 
 against popular sympathy, 89 
 
 confirmation by public opinion, 100. 
 
 conflicts in, 103, 104. 
 
 of acquittal, 122. 
 Vemoru Admiral 70. 
 
 w. 
 
 Walker, Sarah testimony of, 112. 
 
 cross-examination of, 113. 
 Wall, Samuel declarations of, CO. 
 
 Warrant for apprehension of accessory, grounds for, 16. 
 Wells, Susannah arraignment of, 25. 
 Wet Quaker denned, 137. 
 Wife incompetent as witness, 102. 
 Wilson, Bessie delusions of, 56. 
 
 Gleeson, examination of, 100. 
 Witchcraft of Joan Perry, 43. 
 
 confessions of, 53. 
 
 destroying fruits of land, 54. 
 
 odious nature of crime, 58. 
 Witness failure to examine, suspicious, 29. 
 
 exclusion of accused party, 100-102. 
 
 culprit should be admitted to testify, 104. 
 
 incompetency of Quaker, 112. 
 
 effect of rule excluding accused, 114. 
 
 examinations of physician as expert, 133.