THE EXAMINATION.
Squire Walcott, like most of the inhabitants of Brookdale, was a
farmer. He was somewhat advanced in years, and his son-in-law lived in
the same house with him, and assisted in carrying on the farm. He was
generally known as “The Squire,” in town,—a title which he acquired
from the circumstance of his holding a commission as Justice of the
Peace. This commission is conferred by the Governor of the State, and
empowers the holder to discharge certain judicial functions, such as
the issuing of writs and warrants, the examination of persons accused
of crime, etc. In cases where the offence is very small, the Justice of
the Peace may himself impose a fine, or other lawful penalty; but if
the offence is one of much magnitude, he must bind over the supposed
offender in a sum of money, or commit him to jail, to await a trial
before a higher court.
The examination on the present occasion, was to be held in the front
room of Squire Walcott’s house. When the time arrived to commence, one
of the men present conducted Oscar into the room. As he took the seat
pointed out to him, and cast his eye about the room, he recognized Mr.
Upham, Mr. Davenport, Mr. Preston, Clinton, and several others of the
town’s people. All eyes were turned towards himself, as if anxious to
detect from his appearance whether he were guilty or innocent. With
all his boldness, he felt his courage failing him, as he encountered
the searching glances of one and another; and although he tried to
look indifferent, alarm was written too plainly on his pale face to be
disguised.
The Squire sat in a chair, with a table before him, on which were
several books, with pen, ink and paper. In a pleasant tone of voice,
he informed Oscar of the charge brought against him, and expressed the
hope that he would be able to establish his innocence. “Before reading
the complaint,” he added, “I wish to say, that you are not obliged
to criminate yourself in this matter. You can plead guilty, or not
guilty, as you choose. But if you _did_ have any hand in the fire, I
would, as your friend, advise you to confess the whole at once. By so
doing, you will not add to your guilt by falsehood, and the law will
deal more leniently with you than it would if you should be proved
guilty contrary to your own assertions. Even if you set the wood on
fire, you may have done it accidentally, or in sport, without thinking
of the consequences. If you had any connection at all with the fire, I
would advise you to state the facts, exactly as they occurred.”
The Squire then read the complaint, charging Oscar Preston with setting
the wood on fire. When he had concluded, he added:—
“What do you say to this, Oscar,—are you guilty or not guilty?”
“Not guilty,” replied Oscar, faintly.
The Squire now requested the complainant to produce his evidence
against the accused. Mr. Upham commenced with an account of the
stealing of his pears by Oscar and Jerry, and the punishment which
followed that adventure. He said he had been threatened with vengeance
for causing the boys to be whipped, and he had reason to believe that
the burning of his wood was the result of this grudge against him.
The witnesses were now brought forward. The first was a boy, who
testified that he heard Oscar say, with an oath, that he would yet
come up with Mr. Upham for the flogging he gave him. A young man, who
worked on a farm, was then called up, and testified, that whenever the
pear-stealing scrape was mentioned to Oscar, he would get mad, and
threaten to be revenged on Mr. Upham. The third witness was Clinton,
who testified, that one afternoon, a short time before the fire, while
he was at work mending a stone-wall on his father’s land, near the
scene of the conflagration, Oscar and Jerry came along, and the former
asked several questions about the location of Mr. Upham’s wood-lot, and
particularly inquired if he owned a certain lot of corded wood, which
Oscar described, and which was the same lot that was afterwards burnt.
The fourth and last witness, was a man who testified that he was in the
upper part of the town on the afternoon of the fire, and, a short time
before the alarm was given, saw Oscar and Jerry, coming very fast from
the direction of Mr. Upham’s lot.
The Squire wrote down the testimony as it was given. When it was
concluded, he told Oscar he was at liberty to make any remarks or
produce any evidence that he saw fit. Oscar, somewhat perplexed, turned
to his uncle, and after some conversation between them, in a low tone,
Mr. Preston remarked to the Squire, that he thought the evidence
against Oscar was altogether too trivial to be worthy of serious
notice. There was not, he said, the least proof that Oscar set the wood
on fire. He thought Mr. Upham had magnified a foolish, boyish threat
into a matter of very grave importance; and he expressed his opinion,
very decidedly, that the prisoner ought to be released forthwith.
The Squire said he would defer his decision until the other prisoner
had been examined. Oscar was then conducted from the room and Jerry was
brought in. He appeared even more pale and excited than his cousin. The
Squire addressed him in pretty much the same strain of remark as he did
Oscar; but before he commenced reading the complaint, Jerry began to
sob, and with broken and choked utterance, said:—
“Yes, I was there, and saw him do it, but I didn’t have any hand in it
myself.”
“That is right, my son,” said the Squire, in an encouraging tone; “tell
us all you know about it, just as it happened, and it will be better
for you than though you attempted to deceive us. You say you ‘saw him
do it’—whom do you mean?”
“Oscar.”
“Well, go on with the story, and tell us all the particulars,” said the
Squire.
Jerry then related the history of the fire. Oscar, it seemed, had
formed the plan of burning the wood, several days previous, and he
regarded it as a sort of joint operation, in which Jerry and he were to
share the fun, the gratification, and the risk. It appeared, however,
from Jerry’s story, that though he had entered into the plan, he did
not actually apply the match, nor assist in the immediate preparations
for the fire. He was present rather as a spectator than an actor.
When Jerry had finished his confession, Mr. Upham, after a little
conversation with the Squire, concluded to withdraw his complaint
against Jerry. Oscar was then re-called. He entered the room with a
calmer and more confident air than on the first occasion; for since he
had discovered how weak the testimony against him was, he had little
fear for the result. When, however, Jerry was called to take the oath
of a witness, a deadly paleness came over the guilty boy, and he almost
fainted. This was quickly succeeded by an expression of rage in his
countenance, for Oscar was a boy of strong passions, and when they were
excited, he could not conceal them. It was necessary that Jerry should
relate under oath, and before Oscar, the account he had already given
of the fire, for every person charged with crime has a right to hear
the evidence against him. When he had done this, the Squire asked Oscar
if he had anything to say.
“No,” replied Oscar.
“Then,” added Squire Walcott, “I have only to say that the evidence
of your guilt looks very black, and unless you can break down the
testimony of Jerry, I fear your conviction will be certain. I must bind
you over for trial, and shall require you to give bonds in the sum of
two hundred dollars, to appear before the county court at the next
term. “Mr. Preston,” he continued, “will you be his bondsman?”
“No,” replied Mr. Preston, in a decided tone; “the boy has been trouble
enough to me, already, and now he may go to jail, for all I care.” A
moment after, noticing the distressed look of his nephew, he somewhat
relented, in his feelings, and, in a milder tone, assured Oscar that he
would write immediately to his father, who would doubtless hasten to
his relief, and settle the whole affair without any further trial.
The little court now broke up, and all returned to their homes, save
Oscar, who was still in the custody of Mr. Merriam, the constable,
in default of bail. After making a few hasty arrangements for the
journey, the officer and prisoner set out for the county jail, which
was about fifteen miles distant. Mr. Merriam had thought of putting a
pair of hand-cuffs upon Oscar, to prevent his escaping, during this
long ride; but the latter begged so hard to be spared this humiliation
that he relented, and allowed the boy to ride by his side in the open
wagon, free and untrammelled. He also tried to divert his mind from his
unpleasant situation, by conversation on other subjects, but Oscar
seemed little inclined to talk. His heart was full of hard and bitter
thoughts against every body, and especially against Mr. Upham, Jerry,
and his uncle. He scarcely thought of his own guilt, so absorbed was he
in nursing his wrath against those whom he supposed had injured him.
It was towards the middle of the afternoon, when they arrived at the
jail. A cold chill ran through Oscar’s veins, for a moment, when
he first caught sight of his prison-house. Before, he could hardly
realize that he was a prisoner—it all seemed like a dream; but here
was the jail before him, with its stone walls and grated windows, and
the dream was changed to a reality. Passing through a high gate, they
entered that part of the building occupied by the jailer’s family,
and were conducted to a room called “the office.” The keeper of the
jail soon made his appearance, and Mr. Merriam informed him that Oscar
was committed to his custody for trial, and showed him the order from
Squire Walcott to that effect. The jailer asked several questions about
the case, and then took down a large book, partly filled with writing,
and made the following entry within it:—
“_October 25th._—Oscar Preston, of Brookdale, aged 14½ years, charged
with setting fire to wood, in Brookdale. Examined by Justice Walcott,
and committed for trial by Constable Merriam. Bail $200. Of ordinary
height for his age, slender form, light complexion, brown hair, and
blue eyes. Dress,—gray pantaloons, dark blue jacket buttoned to chin,
blue cloth cap. Cell No. 19.”
The object of this brief description of the dress and personal
appearance of Oscar was, that he might be the more easily identified,
should he happen to escape from the jail. Mr. Merriam, bidding a kind
good-bye to the young prisoner, now departed, and the jailer proceeded
to examine Oscar’s pockets, to see if there was anything in them not
allowed in the prison. The only articles he took from them were two
cigars, which he tossed into the fire-place, telling Oscar he would
have no use for them there. He then conducted him through a long and
dark passage-way to cell No. 19, which he had entered against his name
in the registry-book, and which was to be Oscar’s home for the present.
It was a small, narrow room, with one window, near the top, which was
guarded by iron bars. The walls and floor were of brick (the former
had been recently white-washed) and the door was of iron. A sort of
bunk was fitted up in one corner of the cell, which was supplied with
bed-clothes. There were also a small red pine table and an old chair, a
basin, bucket, tin dipper, and several other articles of furniture.
Oscar did not seem to be much pleased with the appearance of his cell,
and he said to the jailer:—
“Can’t you let me have a better room than this? I shan’t stop here but
a few days, and my father will pay you for it, when he comes, if you
will let me have a good room.”
The jailer told him, in reply, that this was the most comfortable
vacant cell he had; that he did not wish to put so young a prisoner
in a cell with older offenders, and if he was to stay but a few days,
he could easily make himself contented. After informing Oscar of the
principal rules and regulations of the prison, the jailer locked the
heavy door upon him, and retired.
The first impulse of the young criminal, in his solitude, was to
cry; but he soon checked himself, and resolved to make the best of
his situation. In a short time his supper was brought to him, which
consisted of a few slices of bread, and a dipper of warm milk and
water. Before night had fully set in, Oscar threw himself upon the
bunk, and though it was not so commodious or so soft a bed as he was
accustomed to, he soon fell asleep, and dreamed over again the eventful
incidents of the day.
[Illustration: Oscar in Jail]
The result of Oscar’s trial created a great stir in Brookdale. It was
the principal topic of remark in every family, and in every little knot
of people that happened to collect, for several days. The first mail
that left Brookdale, after the trial, carried a letter from Mr. Preston
to Oscar’s father in Boston, informing him of the sad intelligence.
In three or four days, the father of the unhappy boy arrived in
Brookdale, to see what could be done in behalf of his son. He first
sought an interview with Mr. Upham, who, after a little persuasion,
agreed to withdraw the complaint, if his loss, $100, were made up
to him. But to carry out this arrangement, it was necessary to get
the consent of the prosecuting attorney of the county, who now had
charge of the case. The prosecuting attorney is an officer appointed
to represent the State at the trials of criminals. Oscar having been
bound over for trial, the State became a party in the suit, in place
of Mr. Upham. The complaint now pending against him, was endorsed,
“_Commonwealth versus Oscar Preston_.” The prosecuting attorney, as the
representative of the Commonwealth, can discontinue a suit, if he deems
the reasons sufficient. The agreement by which this is done, is called
a _nolle prosequi_, often abbreviated _nol. pros._
Mr. Preston had to go to a neighboring town, some dozen miles distant,
to see the prosecuting attorney. He laid before that officer the
facts in the case, who, after considering the matter, agreed to the
proposition, on condition that Oscar should leave the State forthwith.
To this Mr. Preston consented; and on his paying over to Mr. Upham,
(who had accompanied him on this visit,) the sum agreed upon, together
with all the other expenses of the suit, the prosecuting attorney
stayed further proceedings in the case, and gave Mr. Preston an order
for the release of his son from jail.
Just one week after Oscar’s committal to the jail, his father arrived,
with the order of release. The interview was not a very pleasant one.
The father was evidently deeply mortified and displeased; the son was
equally ashamed and embarrassed. But little was said, however, on
either side. Mr. Preston returned to Boston as soon as possible, taking
Oscar with him.