I am condemned to be hung by the neck until I am dead, and to go
out of the world without finding out who is my father--Afterwards
my innocence is made manifest and I am turned adrift a maniac in
the high road.
It may appear strange to the reader that I sent for the above-mentioned
articles, but habit is second nature, and although two days before, when
I set out on my pilgrimage, I had resolved to discard these
superfluities, yet now in my distress I felt as if they would comfort me.
That evening, after rectifying a few mistakes on the part of the
good-tempered gaoler, by writing down what I wanted on the paper which
he had procured me, I obtained all that I required.
The next morning, he informed me that the grand jury had found a true
bill against me, and that on the Saturday next, the assizes would be
held. He also brought me the list of trials, and I found that mine would
be one of the last, and would not probably come on until Monday or
Tuesday. I requested him to send for a good tailor, as I wished to be
dressed in a proper manner, previous to appearing in court. As a prisoner
is allowed to go into court in his own clothes instead of the gaol dress,
this was consented to, and when the man came, I was very particular in my
directions, so much so, that it surprised him. He also procured me the
other articles I required to complete my dress, and on Saturday night I
had them all ready, for I was resolved that I would at least die as a
gentleman.
Sunday passed away, not as it ought to have passed, certainly. I
attended prayers, but my thoughts were elsewhere--how, indeed, could it
be otherwise? Who can control his thoughts? He may attempt so to do, but
the attempt is all that can be made. He cannot command them. I heard
nothing, my mind was in a state of gyration, whirling round from one
thing to the other, until I was giddy from intensity of feeling.
On Monday morning the gaoler came and asked me whether I would have legal
advice. I replied in the negative. "You will be called about twelve
o'clock, I hear," continued he; "it is now ten, and there is only one
more trial before yours, about the stealing of four geese and half a
dozen fowls."
"Good God!" thought I, "and am I mixed up with such deeds as these?" I
dressed myself with the utmost care and precision, and never was more
successful. My clothes were black, and fitted well. About one o'clock I
was summoned by the gaoler, and led between him and another to the
court-house, and placed in the dock. At first my eyes swam, and I could
distinguish nothing, but gradually I recovered. I looked round, for I
had called up my courage. My eyes wandered from the judge to the row of
legal gentlemen below him; from them to the well-dressed ladies who sat
in the gallery above; behind me I did not look. I had seen enough, and
my cheeks burned with shame. At last I looked at my fellow-culprit, who
stood beside me, and his eyes at the same time met mine. He was dressed
in the gaol clothes, of pepper and salt coarse cloth. He was a rough,
vulgar, brutal looking man, but his eye was brilliant, his complexion
was dark, and his face was covered with whiskers. "Good heavens,"
thought I, "who will ever imagine or credit that we have been
associates?"
The man stared at me, bit his lip, and smiled with contempt, but made no
further remark. The indictment having been read, the clerk of the court
cried out, "You, Benjamin Ogle, having heard the charge, say, guilty or
not guilty?"
"Not guilty," replied the man, to my astonishment.
"You, Philip Maddox, guilty or not guilty?" I did not answer.
"Prisoner," observed the judge in a mild voice, "you must answer,
guilty or not guilty. It is merely a form."
"My lord," replied I, "my name is not Philip Maddox."
"That is the name given in the indictment by the evidence of your
fellow-prisoner," observed the judge; "your real name we cannot pretend
to know. It is sufficient that you answer to the question of whether you,
the prisoner, are guilty or not guilty."
"Not guilty, my lord, most certainly," replied I, placing my hand to my
heart, and bowing to him.
The trial proceeded; Armstrong was the principal evidence. To my person
he would not swear. The Jew proved my selling my clothes, purchasing
those found in the bundle, and the stick, of which Armstrong possessed
himself. The clothes I had on at the time of my capture were produced in
court. As for Ogle, his case was decisive. We were then called upon for
our defence. Ogle's was very short. "He had been accustomed to fits all
his life--was walking to Hounslow, and had fallen down in a fit. It must
have been somebody else who had committed the robbery and had made off,
and he had been picked up in a mistake." This defence appeared to make
no other impression than ridicule, and indignation at the barefaced
assertion. I was then called on for mine.
"My lord," said I, "I have no defence to make except that which I
asserted before the magistrates, that I was performing an act of
charity towards a fellow-creature, and was, through that, supposed to
be an accomplice."
"Arraigned before so many upon a charge, at the bare accusation of which
my blood revolts, I cannot and will not allow those who might prove what
my life has been, and the circumstances which induced me to take up the
disguise in which I was taken, to appear in my behalf. I am unfortunate,
but not guilty. One only chance appears to be open to me, which is, in
the candour of the party who now stands by me. If he will say to the
court that he ever saw me before, I will submit without murmur to my
sentence."
"I'm sorry that you've put that question, my boy," replied the man, "for
I have seen you before;" and the wretch chuckled with repressed laughter.
I was so astonished, so thunderstruck with this assertion, that I held
own my head, and made no reply. The judge then summed up the evidence
to the jury, pointing out to them, that of Ogle's guilt there could be
no doubt, and of mine, he was sorry to say, but little. Still they must
bear in mind that the witness Armstrong could not swear to my person.
The jury, without leaving the box, consulted together a short time, and
brought in a verdict of guilty against Benjamin Ogle and Philip Maddox.
I heard no more--the judge sentenced us both to execution: he lamented
that so young and prepossessing a person as myself should be about to
suffer for such an offence: he pointed out the necessity of condign
punishment, and gave us no hopes of pardon or clemency. But I heard him
not--I did not fall, but I was in a state of stupor. At last, he wound up
his sentence by praying us to prepare ourselves for the awful change, by
an appeal to that heavenly Father--"Father!" exclaimed I, in a voice
which electrified the court, "did you say my father? O God! where is
he?" and I fell down in a fit. The handkerchiefs of the ladies were
applied to their faces, the whole court were moved, for I had, by my
appearance, excited considerable interest, and the judge, with a
faltering, subdued voice, desired that the prisoners might be removed.
"Stop one minute, my good fellow," said Ogle, to the gaoler, while
others were taking me out of court. "My lord, I've something rather
important to say. Why I did not say it before, you shall hear. You are
a judge, to condemn the guilty, and release the innocent. We are told
that there is no trial like an English jury, but this I say, that many
a man is hung for what he never has been guilty of. You have condemned
that poor young man to death. I could have prevented it if I had chosen
to speak before, but I would not, that I might prove how little there is
of justice. He had nothing to do with the robbery--Phil Maddox was the
man, and he is not Philip Maddox. He said that he never saw me before,
nor do I believe that he ever did. As sure as I shall hang, he is
innocent."
"It was but now, that when appealed to by him, you stated that you had
seen him before."
"So I did, and I told the truth--I had seen him before. I saw him go to
hold the gentleman's horse, but he did not see me. I stole his bundle
and his stick, which he left on the bench, and that's how they were found
in our possession. Now you have the truth, and you may either acknowledge
that there is little justice, by eating your own words, and letting him
free, or you may hang him, rather than acknowledge that you are wrong.
At all events, his blood will now be on your hands, and not mine. If
Phil Maddox had not turned tail, like a coward, I should not have been
here; so I tell the truth to save him who was doing me a kind act, and
to let him swing who left me in the lurch."
The judge desired that this statement might be taken down, that further
inquiry might be made, intimating to the jury, that I should be respited
for the present; but of all this I was ignorant. As there was no placing
confidence in the assertions of such a man as Ogle, it was considered
necessary that he should repeat his assertions at the last hour of his
existence, and the gaoler was ordered not to state what had passed to
me, as he might excite false hopes.
When I recovered from my fit, I found myself in the gaoler's parlour,
and as soon as I was able to walk, I was locked up in a condemned cell.
The execution had been ordered to take place on the Thursday, and I had
two days to prepare. In the meantime, the greatest interest had been
excited with regard to me. My whole appearance so evidently belied the
charge, that everyone was in my favour. Ogle was requestioned, and
immediately gave a clue for the apprehension of Maddox, who, he said,
he hoped would swing by his side.
The gaoler came to me the next day, saying, that some of the magistrates
wished to speak with me; but as I had made up my mind not to reveal my
former life, my only reply was, "That I begged they would allow me to
have my last moments to myself." I recollected Melchior's idea of
destiny, and imagined that he was right. "It was my destiny," thought
I: and I remained in a state of stupor. The fact was, that I was very
ill, my head was heavy, my brain was on fire, and the throbbing of my
heart could have been perceived without touching my breast.
I remained on the mattress all day, and all the next night, with my face
buried in the clothes! I was too ill to raise my head. On Wednesday
morning I felt myself gently pushed on the shoulder by some one; I
opened my eyes; it was a clergyman. I turned away my head, and remained
as before. I was then in a violent fever. He spoke for some time:
occasionally I heard a word, and then relapsed into a state of mental
imbecility. He sighed, and went away.
Thursday came, and the hour of death,--but time was by me unheeded, as
well as eternity. In the meantime Maddox had been taken, and the contents
of Armstrong's bundle found in his possession; and when he discovered
that Ogle had been evidence against him, he confessed to the robbery.
Whether it was on Thursday or Friday, I knew not then, but I was lifted
off the bed, and taken before somebody--something passed, but the fever
had mounted up to my head, and I was in a state of stupid delirium.
Strange to say, they did not perceive my condition, but ascribed it all
to abject fear of death. I was led away--I had made no answer--but I was
free.