The rest of the evidence was to the following effect:—The villains attempted to force open the door, putting a hanger with a scabbard between that and the post; but Mr. Ellicott, who was a powerful man, kept them out by mere strength, and having fastened the door with a drop bolt, which went into the flooring, he ran to the window, and called out “Thieves!” In the mean time Mrs. Ellicott, by perpetual ringing of the bell, hail alarmed the servants, who ran into the road after the thieves, who had by this time got off with the property.
Notice having been given at Sir John Fielding’s, Merritt and his accomplices were taken into custody on suspicion, and after an examination at Bow-street were committed to Newgate.
At the trial the evidence was deemed so satisfactory that the jury did not hesitate to find Merritt guilty; in consequence of which he received sentence of death, and was executed at Tyburn on the 18th of January, 1775, within six months of the period of his saving the unfortunate Maden from an untimely and ignominious fate.
Connected with the two cases just detailed, we may relate an anecdote of a very remarkable instance of personal similitude which happened at New York, in North America, in the year 1804.
A man was indicted for bigamy under the name of James Hoag. He was met in a distant part of the country by some friends of his supposed first wife, and apprehended. The prisoner denied the charge, and said his name was Thomas Parker. On the trial, Mrs. Hoag, her relations, and many other credible witnesses, swore that he was James Hoag, and the former swore positively that he was her husband. On the other side, an equal number of witnesses, equally respectable, swore that the prisoner was Thomas Parker; and Mrs. Parker appeared, and claimed him as her husband. The first witnesses were again called by the Court, and they not only again deposed to him, but swore that by stature, shape, gesture, complexion, looks, voice, and speech, he was James Hoag. They even described a particular scar on his forehead, by which he could be known. On turning back the hair, the scar appeared. The others, in return, swore that he had lived among them, worked with them, and was in their company on the very day of his alleged marriage with Mrs. Hoag. Here the scales of testimony were balanced, for the jury knew not to which party to give credit. Mrs. Hoag, anxious to gain back her husband, declared he had a certain more particular mark on the sole of his foot. Mrs. Parker avowed that her husband had no such mark; and the man was ordered to pull off his shoes and stockings. His feet were examined, and no mark appeared.
The ladies now contended for the man, and Mrs. Hoag vowed that she had lost her husband, and she would have him; but during this strife, a justice of the peace from the place where the prisoner was apprehended entered the Court, and turned the scale in his favour. His worship swore him to be Thomas Parker; that he had known, and occasionally employed him, from his infancy; whereupon Mrs. Parker embraced and carried off her husband in triumph, by the verdict of the jury.
The following anecdote was related by Mr. Baron Garrow upon the trial of a prisoner, whose identity was questionable, on the Oxford Circuit. The learned judge was in the course of summing up the case to the jury, when he stated that a few years before, a prisoner was on his trial before him, upon a charge of highway robbery. His person was identified positively by the prosecutor, who even went so far as to say that he now wore the same clothes in which he had been attired on the occasion on which the robbery was committed; and the jury were on the point of being dismissed to the consideration of their verdict, when suddenly shouts were heard in the yard attached to the Court-house;—cries of “Make way—make way,” were distinguished;—and a man on horseback, whose appearance denoted the rapidity with which he had ridden, rushed in among the people congregated to await the result of the trial, and, throwing himself from his horse, which was covered with foam, made his way with the greatest expedition to the entrance of the Court. The outcry which was raised had stopped the learned judge in his concluding observations, and before he could resume his address to the jury, the man, booted and spurred, and covered with mud, called upon him to “stop the case, for that he had ridden fifty miles to save the life of a fellow-creature—the prisoner at the bar.” His lordship and the Court were astonished at the interruption, and called upon the stranger to explain his conduct. His answer was that he knew that the prisoner could not be guilty of the offence imputed to him; and he called upon the prosecutor of the indictment to say whether, after having seen him, he could still swear that the prisoner was the offender. The prosecutor again entered the witness-box, and surveyed the stranger from head to foot. He was dressed in a manner precisely similar to that in which the prisoner was attired—a green coat with brass buttons, drab breeches, and top-boots;—their countenances were so nearly alike in style, that from the transient view he had had of the robber, he was unable to distinguish which was the real thief. The Court were unwilling to suffer a person who was really innocent to be convicted, and proceeded to make inquiries of the stranger as to his reasons for interrupting the trial, and as to his knowledge of the circumstances of the robbery. Upon the former point, the only explanation which could be obtained from him was, that he was perfectly satisfied that the prisoner was innocent; upon the latter he declined to answer any queries, insinuating that, situated as he was, the Court would not compel him to criminate himself. The prisoner now reiterated the protestations of innocence which he had before made; and the prosecutor, being strictly examined by the Court, declared that he was so confused by the similarity which existed between the prisoner and the stranger, that he was unable to swear that the former was actually the thief; and that his impression now was, that the latter was the real offender. Under these circumstances, it was left to the jury to say, whether they could with safety declare the prisoner to be guilty; and a verdict of acquittal was in consequence returned, to the apparent satisfaction of the Court. It now became the duty of the judge to determine what further proceedings should be taken. A robbery, there was no doubt, had been committed, and its commission lay between the person who had just been acquitted and the stranger. The former must be presumed to be not guilty, because the jury had declared him to be so; and a bill of indictment was therefore directed to be preferred against the latter, who was taken into custody. The same evidence which had before been given was now repeated, and a true bill was returned. The trial came on in the course of the ensuing day, and a fresh jury being impanelled, the new prisoner was put upon his defence. It was a simple and plain one; “he was not guilty. The prosecutor had sworn positively to the person of the prisoner, who had been tried on the previous day, and could he now be permitted so to alter his testimony, as to procure the conviction of another? He had before declared that he could not distinguish the real offender, and what better opportunity had been since afforded him? Besides, his evidence now went only to his ‘belief’ as to the identity of the person charged: and surely if the jury had before acquitted a prisoner to whom he had sworn positively, they would not now convict, when his testimony was qualified.” This reasoning was too much for the jury; the prisoner had made no confession of his own guilt, and he was declared not guilty. The sequel was soon discovered; the two men were brothers: the first prisoner was the guilty party, and the whole “scene” got up by the stranger was a mere fabrication, invented for the purpose of gulling the Court and jury. No proceedings could be taken against either party; for although the Court had been imposed upon, the imposition was backed by no perjury, and the two thieves—for so they turned out—escaped unpunished.
Another instance of remarkable imposition being practised upon the Court, occurred subsequently at York. The case of a person who was charged with an extensive robbery on the highway, had attracted considerable attention. The prisoner, when apprehended, was attired in the habit of a working man; but the prosecutor, whose evidence as to his identity was positive, swore that when the robbery was committed he was well dressed, and mounted. The trial came on at the York assizes, and the Court was crowded with persons. Upon the evening preceding the day on which the case was fixed for trial, a gentleman drove up to one of the principal inns of the city in a travelling chariot, and requested to be accommodated with a bed. A handsome supper was ordered, and