PERSONAL IDENTIFICATION
McKeever's Experiment on Fallibility of Eye-witnesses--Gorse Hall
Murder--Cases of Mistaken Identity--Gun-flash
Recognition--Self-deception--Tichborne Case.
The untrustworthiness of the eye-witness as to detail was recently
demonstrated by Professor McKeever at the Kansas State College in the
following manner.[2] He asked twenty-five students at the college to
witness a short drama, and immediately afterwards to write a detailed
description of the characters and incidents.
[2] _Daily Mirror_ report.
This little drama, which was supposed to take place in one of the
class-rooms, ran as follows:--
Jones, a tall man, wearing a hat and a black mask over his eyes, nose
and mouth, and dressed in a grey rain-coat rushed in carrying a salt
bag half full of nails in his left hand and a small wrench in his
right hand. Across his left cheek was a streak of red paint.
When just inside the door he turned and pointing the wrench at some
pursuers, shouted "Stand back, or I'll shoot." He then ran across the
room, fell on his knees, and dropped the bag, saying, "There it is,
take it"; after which he got up and rushed from the room.
Smith dashed into the room after Jones, crying "Give it up, you
scoundrel," and picked up the bag which Jones had dropped. White,
short and stout, dressed in a blue serge coat and cap, and carrying a
revolver with its cylinder removed, came in last. He called out to
Smith, "Take it from Eddie, he won't hurt you!" He then went out after
Jones but before Smith.
The professor pretending to be alarmed jumped up from his chair and
exclaimed, "Men, what are you up to here?"
These were the actual facts, and the manner in which the accounts of
the twenty-five witnesses disagreed may be shown by a few examples of
the different particulars described:--
Jones' appearance: (1) Black coat, light mask. (2) Red mask, cheeks
painted red. (3) Black coat, mouth painted red. (4) Carried pistol.
(5) Cheeks more than natural redness; club in his hand; dark suit. (6)
Dark suit. (7) Black clothes. (8) Red mask on; black clothes. (9)
Hatless.
Smith's appearance: (1) Wore a grey suit. (2) Six-footer. (3) Dark
grey suit. (4) Bareheaded. (5) Blue suit.
White's appearance: (1) Dark suit and raincoat. (2) Bareheaded. (3)
Hardly noticed him (nearly everyone said this).
Smith's conduct: (1) Carried pistol and snapped it several times. (2)
Came in last; went out second; said "Get out of here." (3) Carried
pistol, snapped it several times, and cried "Stop or I'll shoot,"
aiming at Jones. (4) Dropped umbrella on floor. (5) Came in last,
stayed behind; yelled "Catch that man!"
Professor's conduct: (1) Said: "What's all this?" (2) Said: "What does
all this mean?" (3) Said: "Here." (4) Said: "Hullo, what's going on
here"? (5) Said: "Who are these men?"
These discrepancies illustrate how difficult it is for the eye and ear to
record accurately the impressions received in a rapid succession of
events, one of which may focus the attention to such an extent that events
simultaneously occurring are only imperfectly or partially observed.
The fallibility of identification by eye-witnesses was strikingly
demonstrated at the trial of Benjamin Bates and John Green at the Old
Bailey in 1776, on the charge of burglary.
The house of James Penleage had been broken into, and plate to the value
of four or five hundred pounds had been stolen.
Mrs. Penleage swore that four men had entered her bedroom, one of whom
carried a dark lantern; that two of these men came, one on each side of
the bed, and held pistols to her head, and that of these men of whom she
had a perfect view, she recognised one as Green and the other as Bates.
Her husband testified as to the house having been entered, and as to his
loss, but stated that as he was near-sighted he would not swear to the
men, though he believed Bates had presented a pistol to his head.
Evidence was also given by a servant and by another woman, and
notwithstanding the good character given to the prisoners by a number of
witnesses, the jury brought in a verdict of "Guilty."
The newspapers of the day called attention to the inconclusive evidence
of identification, and as a result the prisoners were respited from month
to month.
At last another man, who was executed in the country, confessed that he
had also been the author of this burglary at the house of Penleage, and
that the two men who had been convicted had had nothing to do with it. In
consequence of this Bates and Green received a free pardon, but not until
they had been in prison for many months.
A contemporary comment upon this trial richly warrants quotation:--"On
this occasion Britons have cause to triumph in the LIBERTY OF THE PRESS.
If newspapers had not been printed in this country, the lives of two
honest men would have been sacrificed to the rigour of the laws, yet no
party concerned have been the least to blame. The ways of Providence are
mysterious; casual circumstances frequently produce great effects; and a
life may be saved or lost by an accident apparently beneath the notice of
a common observer."
Another very curious instance of mistaken identity was that brought out in
a trial for robbery in 1784. A barrister had been attacked and robbed in
broad daylight, and he positively swore that he had recognised two men
named Wood and Brown as his assailants. Fortunately for them the prisoners
were able to prove an alibi, which showed beyond all doubt that they were
far from the spot at the time, and they were accordingly acquitted.
Subsequently the real robbers were discovered and found in possession of
the missing property. In this case there was a man of trained
observation, being absolutely certain of the identity of two men, who had
never been near the place.
The case of the Perreaus, related in a subsequent page, was another
example of the kind. The two brothers, who were twins, were so exactly
alike that a money scrivener who had drawn up bonds by order of one or the
other of them hesitated to fix upon either. At last, when pressed to make
a positive declaration, he fixed upon Daniel as the brother who had come
to him in connection with the forged bond.
In 1797 a mistake as to identity resulted in the death of two men. Martin
Church, a bookseller, and James Mackley, a printer, were tried that year
at the Old Bailey on the charge of murdering Sydney Fryer, at the back of
Islington workhouse. Miss Anne Fryer, who was with her cousin at the time
he was attacked, swore positively that the two prisoners were the
assailants.
Some years later Burton Wood, who was executed at Kennington Common, and
Timmins, who was hanged at Reading, confessed separately that they had
done the deed for which the other men had suffered.
In modern times the case of Adolph Beck, who was twice wrongfully
convicted through his unfortunate resemblance to another man is notorious,
and has been the subject of a special report.
The most recent and strangest instances of wrong identification arose out
of the mysterious crime which became known as the "Gorse Hall" murder.
In November, 1909, Mr. Storrs, a wealthy mill-owner, who lived at Gorse
Hall, in a lonely district in Cheshire, was attacked by a man who had
forced his way into the house. A desperate struggle followed, in the
course of which Mr. Storrs was repeatedly stabbed with a knife and fatally
wounded. His assailant also attempted to shoot him with a revolver, but
this was snatched from him by Mrs. Storrs.
A relation of Mr. Storrs, named Howard, who was an ex-soldier, was
arrested and charged with the murder. At the trial that took place at the
Chester Assizes in March, 1910, he was positively identified by the widow
of the murdered man, who swore that she recognised him by "the look in his
eyes." He was also identified by some of the servants at the Hall as the
assailant of Mr. Storrs.
Fortunately Howard was able to prove conclusively that he was somewhere
else at the time of the murder.
Some time later, another ex-soldier named Mark Wilde was arrested upon the
same charge, and once more evidence of identification was given by the
same witnesses as in the previous trial, though they were now less
positive in their assertions.
The two men, Howard and Wilde, bore a singular resemblance to each other,
and evidence was given that at the time of the murder Wilde was dressed in
dark clothes, dark cap and muffler, which was the description of the
clothes of Mr. Storrs' assailant given by witnesses at the first trial.
Stains upon the prisoner's clothing were identified as human blood by the
serum test. The revolver which Mrs. Storrs had snatched from the murderer
was also identified as having belonged to Wilde, for it was recognised by
two ex-soldiers who had, they alleged, frequently seen it in his hands,
by its broken spring and marks upon its barrel.
For the defence, however, witnesses were called to prove that the revolver
taken from the murderer was not identical with that of Wilde, and that the
blood upon his clothes was the result of a fight he had had upon the night
of the crime.
No motive could be alleged, and the jury distrusting the evidence of
identification, found the prisoner "Not guilty."
The murder was thus unique in the fact that two innocent men were in
succession identified as the assailant and acquitted.
With regard to the amount of light needed for the recognition of a person,
curious scientific evidence has been given in trials, and several cases
are on record where witnesses have claimed to identify a person by a
momentary flash. A notable instance of this kind was seen at the trial of
Joseph Brook for burglary at the York Assizes in 1813.
The prisoner, it was alleged, had broken into the house of a farmer named
Strickland at Kirk Heaton.
Anne Armitage, a niece of the farmer, deposed that he had struck upon the
stone floor with something she took for a sword to intimidate her, that it
produced a flash, and gave a light by which she could see his face. She
swore that she had seen enough by the momentary flash to recognise him
again. She had also heard his voice, and knew it again when she heard it
later, and thought she could undertake to say that it was the voice of the
accused man.
The prisoner set up an alibi, and the jury, although as they stated
subsequently, not believing in this alibi, returned a verdict of "Not
guilty."
The question of the possibility of a person firing a gun or pistol being
identified by the light of the flash was submitted to a committee of
scientific men in Paris, in 1809, and their conclusion was that such
identification was not possible.
On the other hand, the evidence in a case that was tried shortly
afterwards in France indicated that under favourable conditions the face
of the person who had fired a gun might be recognised. A man had fired at
another at night, and a woman who was near at the time, swore at the trial
that the flash had plainly shown her the face of the assailant. Similar
evidence was also given by the man who had been wounded.
Experiments to determine this point were made by Desgranges, at Lyons, and
from the results of these he concluded that there was a possibility of
such identification at a short distance from the flash of the gun,
provided that the night was very dark and that there was no other source
of light to interfere with the gun-flash; but that if the flash was very
pronounced, or much smoke was produced it was not possible to recognise
the person firing the gun.
Juries have always been reluctant to convict a prisoner upon evidence of
this kind. For instance, at the trial of a man named White at Croydon in
1839, the prisoner was accused of firing at a gentleman while he was
driving home in an open trap, and his intended victim, who was shot in the
elbow, swore positively that the flash of the gun showed so clearly the
features of his assailant that he was absolutely certain that he was the
prisoner. The defendant denied the charge and, notwithstanding the
positive statement of the principal witness, was acquitted.
There are other instances, however, where convictions have resulted from
such momentary glimpses. Thus, at the trial of some highwaymen in 1799,
which is quoted by Paris and Fonblanque (1823), it was stated by a Bow
Street officer that he, together with some of his companions, had been
fired at by the prisoners upon a dark night, upon Hounslow Heath. He swore
that the flash of the pistol enabled him to see that one of the
assailants, a man named Haines, who had come up to the side of the coach,
was riding upon a dark brown horse which had certain peculiarities about
its head and shoulders, and that the rider was wearing a rough brown coat.
Afterwards, said the witness, he had seen the same horse in a stable in
Long Acre, in London, and had recognised it as the one upon which the man
was riding by its curious square head and thick shoulders. The jury
believed the evidence of this witness, and the prisoner was convicted.
A case within the experience of a former Recorder of Birmingham (Hill) is
mentioned in Wills' _Circumstantial Evidence_. A man was committed for
trial at the Assizes at Derby, in 1840, on the charge of shooting at a
young woman.
She was prepared to swear that she had recognised him by the momentary
flash of the gun.
Experiments were made to determine to what extent reliance could be placed
upon such identification, and the conclusion drawn from these was that
"all stories of recognition from the flash of a gun or pistol must be
founded on a fallacy."
In addition to these, several instances, collected from different sources,
are referred to in Taylor's _Medical Jurisprudence_, where the general
conclusion is drawn that occasionally it may be possible to identify an
assailant in this way.
From the same source comes the amusing story of a man who swore that he
recognised an assailant who attacked him in the dark, by the flash
produced by a blow upon his eye! The absurdity of the claim is
self-evident, for the "flashes" due to a blow do not emit light, and can
therefore never cause any external object to be visible.
A curious factor influencing the value of evidence of personal
identification is the readiness with which credulous humanity will accept
any story however improbable. But for this the notorious Tichborne case,
which dragged on for years, would have been settled in a few days. It is
difficult now, recalling the facts, to understand how anyone could have
believed in the identity of the butcher, Arthur Orton, with the missing
heir to the estates, Roger Tichborne. The latter was of a slim build,
while the claimant was a couple of inches taller and weighed twenty-five
stones. The real Roger had had the education of a gentleman, while the
claimant could neither write nor speak correctly.
Yet, notwithstanding the enormous dissimilarity in appearance and manners
of the two men, the mother of Roger Tichborne recognised Orton as the son
whom she and everyone else had believed to have been drowned when the
ship was wrecked. When he came to England to see her he had thought it
prudent to feign illness. Lady Tichborne, therefore, went to see him, and
he got on the bed, and turned his face to the wall. His adopted mother,
however, recognised him by his "ears so like his uncle's."
This must have been an instance of self-deception, for there was evidence
that the lobes of the ears of the two men were absolutely different.
It was this recognition, however, that encouraged Orton to persevere with
his claim to the estates, and assisted in aiding the recollection of other
people, who swore that he was Roger.