REMARKABLE FORGERY TRIALS
Trials--William Hale--The Perreaus--Caroline Rudd--Dr. Dodd--Whalley
Will Case--Pilcher, etc.
The evidence given at the trial of William Hale, in 1728, at the Old
Bailey has many points of interest. The accused was charged with forging a
promissory note for £6,400.
At this time it was customary for certain privileged persons to frank
letters by merely signing their names upon them and adding the word
"free."
In this case the forged promissory note bore the words "for myself and
partners" followed by the signature, and the Attorney-General pointed out
in his speech for the prosecution that this had been done by erasing the
two "e's" of "free," inserting an "o" between the "f" and "r," and then
adding the additional words.
It was also alleged that the ink in the stroke of the beginning of the
letter "m" in the word "my" was in an older kind of ink, and probably
originally formed part of one of the "e's" in the word "free."
The old creases in the paper were also such as might have been produced by
the folding of the cover of a letter.
Philip Booth denied the authenticity of the handwriting, and was then
questioned further:--
"Are they in the same ink?"
To which he replied, "I take them to be of a different ink."
The prisoner was found guilty and condemned to stand thrice in the
pillory, to pay a heavy fine, and to suffer five years' imprisonment. He
died the same year in Newgate.
Two celebrated trials for forgery in which evidence as to the authenticity
of handwriting was given, took place in 1775, and the justice of the
verdicts was hotly discussed for long afterwards. In the first of these
trials Robert and Daniel Perreau, twin brothers, were accused of a series
of frauds by means of false bonds, while in the second trial Caroline
Rudd, who had given evidence for the Crown against the Perreaus in the
first trial, was indicted for the same offence.
According to the contemporary accounts Robert Perreau was an "apothecary
of great practice," while his brother "lived in the _stile_ of a
gentleman."
The evidence went to prove that Robert Perreau asked Drummond, the banker,
to lend him £5,000 upon the security of a bond for £7,500 which, he
alleged, had been given to his brother Daniel Perreau by a Mr. William
Adair.
Mr. Drummond questioned the authenticity of the signature upon the bond,
which he therefore retained for further examination, promising to return
it the next day or to advance the money for the loan. In the meantime he
showed it to the Secretary of the Admiralty, who at once agreed that the
signature was a forgery.
The next day Perreau willingly accompanied Drummond to Mr. William Adair
who promptly denied all knowledge of the bond.
The Perreaus and Mrs. Rudd now attempted to escape in a coach, but were
arrested and charged with forgery before Sir John Fielding at the
Westminster Guildhall. Similar charges of obtaining money from other
persons by means of bonds, all of which had been signed with the name of
William Adair, were brought, and after Mrs. Rudd had given evidence that
she had forged the signatures at their instigation, the two brothers were
committed for trial at the Old Bailey.
At the trial evidence was given by William Drummond that he had had an
interview with Mrs. Rudd, that then she had admitted having given the bond
to Robert Perreau, and after confessing that she had forged it had begged
them "for God's sake to have mercy upon an innocent man."
Robert Drummond, brother of the previous witness, stated in his evidence
that when Mrs. Rudd acknowledged the forging of the bond he had expressed
doubts whether she was speaking the truth, seeing that the handwriting was
so different from that of a woman. Mrs. Rudd had then written the words,
"William Adair," upon a piece of paper in writing so like that of the
signature on the bond that it had satisfied him and he had burned the
paper.
Evidence was next given by a brother of William Adair and by a clerk that
the handwriting upon the bond was not that of William Adair.
John Moody, a livery servant of Daniel Perreau, who was called for the
defence, asserted that Mrs. Rudd had two different kinds of handwriting,
in one of which she wrote letters to his master as though coming from Mr.
William Adair, this fictitious writing being absolutely different from her
ordinary writing. He also stated that she used different pens, ink and
paper for these forged letters, and that the handwriting upon the bond was
precisely the same as that in the fictitious letters.
The defence of both brothers was that they had been deceived by Mrs. Rudd,
who had given them the bond as a true one and that they had presented it
believing it to be genuine.
Many distinguished persons, including Sir John Moore, gave testimony as to
their character, but in spite of this both were found guilty and sentenced
to death.
After their conviction great efforts were made to secure a pardon for
them, and especially for Robert Perreau, against whom the evidence was not
so strong. A petition was presented to the King, and the newspapers were
filled with letters in favour of the men, who, as a large section of the
public believed, had been the victims of a designing woman. But all was of
no avail and they were executed in January, 1776.
Between their conviction and execution came the trial of Caroline Rudd for
the same forgeries. She pleaded that having been accepted as a witness for
the Crown she ought not to have been prosecuted as a principal. This point
of law was referred to the whole bench of judges, whose decision was that
the trial should proceed, in order to determine whether the prisoner had
spoken the whole truth.
She had charged Robert Perreau with soliciting her to forge the bond and
his brother Daniel with forcing her to imitate the handwriting of William
Adair. "If," ran the judgment, "she has suppressed the truth she has no
equitable claim to favour; and if she has told the truth and the whole
truth she cannot be convicted." The trial therefore proceeded.
The principal witnesses were the wives of Robert Perreau and John Moody.
Mrs. Perreau stated that she had seen Mrs. Rudd hand a bond to her
husband, Robert Perreau, which was signed "William Adair." In
cross-examination she admitted that she had never before seen a bond, and
when asked how she could recall, after three months, the names, amounts,
date, and other particulars upon it replied, "I have the happiness to have
a good memory." At the same time she was unable to remember the date or
sum in any other document which had been shown to her.
John Moody, Daniel Perreau's servant, again gave evidence as to Mrs.
Rudd's using two kinds of handwriting, and asserted that he believed that
the signature of Mr. William Adair upon the bond was in the handwriting of
the prisoner. In cross-examination he admitted that he had never seen Mrs.
Rudd sign the name of Mr. Adair.
The defence was that there had been a conspiracy on the part of the
relatives and friends of the Perreaus against Mrs. Rudd, and Christian
Hart, a friend of the prisoner, gave some evidence in support of this.
A short speech was then made by Mrs. Rudd, who concluded with an appeal to
the jury: "Gentlemen, ye are honest men, and I am safe in your hands."
After a short retirement the jury gave their verdict in the following
curious form: "According to the evidence before us, not guilty."
For many years after these trials sides were taken for and against the
Perreaus, and an appeal even was made to Mrs. Rudd to "discover the
secrets of a transaction concerning which public opinion has been so much
divided." It was plausibly suggested that a declaration of the fact if she
was guilty could not then affect her since she had been acquitted by the
laws of her country.
Two years after the trial of the Perreaus and Mrs. Rudd came another
notorious forgery trial, which created a still greater sensation, owing to
the fame of the prisoner as a clergyman and an author.
On the 8th of February the Reverend Dr. Dodd, editor of _Dodd's Beauties
of Shakespeare_, once one of the King's Chaplains, and a preacher whom
Sunday after Sunday fashionable London had flocked to hear, was arrested
on the charge of forging the signature of his former pupil, the Earl of
Chesterfield.
For years he had been attempting to live in the style which he thought his
position required, and had been in constant difficulties with his
trades-people. At length to satisfy some of the more importunate, he
borrowed £4,000 in the name of Lord Chesterfield, whose agent he
represented himself to be, and gave a false bond for the sum.
The manner in which the forgery was discovered is especially interesting,
as being one of the earliest cases in which the appearance of the ink led
to the detection of a fraud.
The bond had been left with a Mr. Manly, who was the attorney for Messrs.
Fletcher and Peach, who had advanced the money, and, according to the
evidence which he gave at the trial, he observed "a very remarkable blot
in the first letter E in the word SEVEN, which did not seem to be the
effect of chance but done with design. He thought it remarkable but did
not suspect a forgery; yet he showed Mr. Fletcher the bond and blot, and
advised him to have a clean bond filled up, and carried to Lord
Chesterfield for execution."
When this was done Lord Chesterfield immediately disowned the bond, and
Dr. Dodd was thereupon arrested. The attorney advised him that if he
returned the money it would be the only means of saving him. Accordingly
he raised the £4,000, on the understanding that the bond should be
returned to him cancelled, but the charge was not withdrawn, and he was
committed for trial at the Old Bailey.
His defence was little more than a confession of guilt and a plea for
mercy, and after an absence of only a few minutes the jury found that he
was guilty, but recommended him to the royal mercy.
After the conviction unexampled efforts were made to gain a reprieve. In
every newspaper there were letters pleading for the life of the prisoner,
and the most distinguished men of the day, including Dr. Johnson, then the
foremost English man of letters, used their influence on his behalf.
Officers of the parish, dressed in deep mourning went from door to door,
gaining signatures for long petitions to the king, and the names thus
collected filled twenty-three rolls of parchment. Finally, the Lord Mayor
and Council went in state to St. James's Palace imploring mercy for the
prisoner. But all was to no purpose, for the king obstinately refused to
show any favour to the divine whom he had formerly dismissed from his
chaplaincy. His constant reply to all these petitions was, "If I save Dodd
I shall have murdered the Perreaus."
On the 27th June, 1777, Dr. Dodd was taken in a cart with another
condemned prisoner from Newgate to Tyburn and executed.
His bad luck attended him to the last, for he went cheerfully to the place
of execution under the impression that the executioner would be able to
cut him down and hand him over to his friends before it was too late to
restore him to life. Unfortunately for him the scheme miscarried. A
contemporary account thus describes the incident: "Just before the parties
were turned off Dr. Dodd whispered to the executioner. What he said cannot
be known; but it was observed that the man had no sooner driven away the
cart than he ran immediately under the gibbet, and took hold of the
doctor's legs, as if to steady the body; and the unhappy man appeared to
die without pain; but the groans, prayers and tears of thousands attended
his exit."
That Dr. Dodd was hanged at Tyburn is unquestionable, but it was commonly
believed at the time that the plan arranged with the executioner had
proved successful, and that after being cut down, he was handed over to
his friends, who applied restoratives, and when he was well again
smuggled him over to France, where he lived quietly for many years until
his death.
There is no reliable evidence of this rescue from the gallows, and
although a few years ago it was stated that an account appeared in a
newspaper of 1784, of the life of Dr. Dodd in France, the present writer
has been unable to find any mention of this in the papers of that date.
* * * * *
The trial popularly known as "The Great Matlock Will Case" is a good
illustration of the way in which the internal evidence of documents may
afford definite proof of their authorship.
In the year 1856 a surveyor named Nuttall who lived at Matlock died
leaving an estate worth about £60,000. He had no near relatives, and the
only other occupant of his house at the time of his death was his
housekeeper, Catherine Marsden. Her sister's husband, John Else, had been
employed as a clerk for many years by Mr. Nuttall, and wrote in a
handwriting so similar to the surveyor's that people were frequently at a
loss to tell by which of the two their letters had been written.
Nuttall had had his will drawn up by a solicitor, and had made a copy of
it in his own writing, which was signed and witnessed. In this copy
certain additions benefiting Else had been introduced between the lines. A
number of codicils to this will were subsequently discovered when Else had
become appointed successor to Nuttall, and these were signed and witnessed
by a local farmer and a surgeon, so that if these codicils were not
genuine, there was conspiracy to defraud and perjury on the part of these
witnesses. The genuine nature of the signatures was vouched for by a bank
clerk, who stated that he would have at once paid money upon cheques so
signed.
The case was first tried before a jury at the Derby Assizes in 1859, and
the codicils were pronounced genuine. The Master of the Rolls, not being
satisfied with the verdict, directed a second trial, which took place in
1860, and this time the jury decided that the codicils were not genuine.
The plaintiffs then appealed first to the High Court and then to the House
of Lords and a new trial was ordered.
The final trial came on before the Lord Chief Justice (Cockburn) in 1864,
and lasted for eight days. The jury decided against the genuineness of the
codicils, mainly upon the characteristics of the writing and spelling.
Both Nuttall and Else were bad spellers, but their mistakes were
different. For instance, throughout the will "daughter" was spelt
correctly, whereas in the codicil it was "doughter," and it was proved
that Else spelt the word with an "o," while Nuttall had never done so.
The way in which the "t" was crossed was, however, the most convincing
piece of evidence. It was shown that Nuttall's habit was usually to leave
the "t" uncrossed, or when he did cross it to do so completely. On the
other hand, Else generally made a half-cross to the "t's." In the will
written by the testator there were no half-crossings, whereas in the
interlineation and the codicils the half-crossed "t's" predominated. This
difference was also brought out in a large number of the letters of the
deceased and of Else, which were shown to the jury.
After the verdict had been given against them the plaintiffs attempted,
though without success, to obtain yet another trial of the case.
* * * * *
One of the most remarkable trials for forgery that has taken place in this
country was the outcome of the famous Whalley will case, which occupied
the attention of the courts for three years in the early eighties.
James Whalley, whose fortune was in dispute, died in 1881 leaving £60,000.
He had been a reserved man with a touch of eccentricity, and parsimonious
habits, and in spite of his wealth had lived for many years in bare
lodgings in the house of a railway porter named Thomas, at Leominster.
On several occasions he had expressed his intention of leaving his money
to a man named Priestman, who though at the time unaware of the truth, was
in fact his natural son; and there was convincing evidence to show that he
had made a will on blue paper to that effect.
After his death, however, no such will could be found, whereas Thomas, the
railway porter, produced a will on white paper, in which the bulk of the
fortune was left to him.
Certain suspicious circumstances led Whalley's next of kin to challenge
the genuineness of the will, and though as yet there was no suggestion of
forgery, it was urged that the signature had been obtained by some trick.
After some time a compromise was made, and it was arranged that Thomas
should have £17,000 and that the remainder of the money should be divided
between Priestman and Whalley's relatives. The will was proved on this
understanding.
Here the matter might have ended had it not been for an act of folly upon
the part of Thomas.
Priestman invited his solicitor and some friends to come to Leominster to
celebrate the occasion, and on their way from the station the carriage
drove past the house where Whalley had lived.
As it passed by Thomas stood at the window flourishing a piece of blue
paper.
The solicitor, seeing this, jumped to the conclusion that this paper was
the "blue will," which Thomas was flourishing out of bravado, to show that
he had beaten them. This led him to make further inquiries, which finally
resulted in his concluding that the "white will" was a forgery.
As the Court of Chancery regarded the question as one to be decided by a
jury the case was tried in the Queen's Bench Division, eminent counsel
being engaged on each side.
Evidence was given by David Reece, whose name appeared upon the will as
one of the witnesses. He swore that he had never seen Whalley sign a will,
but that, together with the other witness, Nash, he had put his signature
above Whalley's signature on a piece of white paper on which was some
writing in pencil.
Other evidence was then called to prove that shortly before his death
Whalley had asked Thomas to write a letter in pencil to Priestman, to
which he had appended his signature in ink. This letter Priestman had
never received.
The inference, therefore, from this evidence was that the will had been
written upon a sheet of paper from which pencil writing had been erased.
A minute examination of the "white will" disclosed the presence of traces
of the pencil marks, and words could be sufficiently deciphered to show
that they had formed part of a letter.
The evidence of a number of expert witnesses, including Mr. Holmes, the
librarian of Windsor Castle, made clear the manner in which pencil marks
upon paper which had apparently been erased might reappear. When
india-rubber is passed over the surface of the paper it removes part of
the fibres of the material but only doubles over another portion, so that
in time the latter may unroll again and uncover the writing which had for
a time been concealed by it. It was proved further that the words which
had now reappeared upon the paper were in the handwriting of Thomas.
The expert evidence that was brought fully confirmed the story of the
witness Reece, and the "white will" was pronounced a forgery.
Subsequently Thomas was tried on this charge and was convicted and
sentenced to fifteen years' penal servitude. It is strange to reflect that
had it not been for his being unable to resist the temptation of showing
his triumph over his rivals, by flourishing a blue paper, his ingenious
fraud would in all probability never have been detected.
It is scarcely likely that this paper was the original "blue will." In any
case, the latter was never discovered, but the Courts held on the evidence
laid before them that its intention should hold good, and that the money
should go to Priestman.
* * * * *
An elaborately designed forgery was detected in 1891 by the evidence
furnished by the different documents. An action was brought by a man named
Howe against the executors of a Mr. Ashton to recover £1,375, which he
alleged, had been given him in a cheque shortly before the testator's
death.
The body of the cheque was admitted to be in the handwriting of Howe who
said that he had written it at Ashton's request.
The cheque was signed "B. Ashton," whereas in the cheques (produced by Mr.
Ashton's bank) for many years previously, the signature was invariably
"Benj. Ashton," and the shorter signature was only employed in letters.
The evidence went to show that Howe had traced the signature from one of
these letters.
A further discrepancy was apparent in the form of the figure "seven," Howe
invariably forming it laboriously and with a vertical stroke at the top,
whereas Ashton had always made it in a continuous stroke. In support of
his statement Howe produced some memoranda of sums due to himself, which
he asserted to be the handwriting of Ashton.
In these the figure seven was invariably formed in the same way as Howe
made it, while the figure was never made in that fashion by Ashton.
To account for one sum of £200, which he claimed to have lent to the
deceased, Howe stated that he had borrowed the sum from his mother-in-law,
and in corroboration produced a promissory note which he said he had given
her at the time.
The note was dated 1889, and the date-mark to have coincided with this
should have been "89." An examination of this document suggested to the
judge, Mr. Justice Wills, that there had been some tampering with the
date. A hole in the paper came where the "8" should have been, the
explanation offered for this being that the paper had been put upon a
file. The appearance of the curve of what was left of the first letter,
however, was not like the curve of an "8," and by carefully working at the
back of the paper with an instrument, the torn edges of the hole were
pushed back into their place, and the figures of the year 1890 were made
plainly visible.
So carefully thought out had this fraud been that it took twelve days to
unravel the whole matter. After the exposures described above Howe
naturally lost his case, and the papers were sent to the Public
Prosecutor. Subsequently Howe was tried at the Old Bailey for forgery and
convicted.
* * * * *
The trial of Frederick Pilcher at the Old Bailey in July, 1910, on the
charge of forging his cousin's will, was notable as being the first
occasion upon which chemical evidence as to the age of modern inks has
been given.
Pilcher, who was a naval architect and colonel in the Territorials, in
Liverpool, had for many years been on very friendly terms with his cousin,
Marian Lilian Kerferd, and had been entrusted by her with the management
of some of her property.
Miss Kerferd died in March, 1909, leaving an unsigned will in which she
divided the bulk of her estate, amounting to £20,000 to £30,000, between
various relatives, while only £130 a year was left to Colonel Pilcher,
whom she had appointed her executor.
Shortly after her death Pilcher produced a signed will bearing the date of
1898, which he stated he had found among the papers of the deceased, and
in this will he was left the whole of the property and appointed sole
executor.
He obtained probate of this will and took possession of the estate,
dealing liberally with the members of the family mentioned in the unsigned
will.
The relations, however, were not satisfied with this state of affairs, and
Mr. Frank Stokes, as next-of-kin, brought an action, which Colonel Pilcher
did not defend, and succeeded in getting the probate set aside, and the
deceased lady was declared to have died intestate. In the meantime the
prisoner had succeeded in spending about £5,000 of the estate.
When arrested he stoutly denied that the will was a forgery, but after
evidence had been given at Bow Street he was committed for trial. The
writing upon the will showed a close resemblance to that of Miss Kerferd,
but the bank manager of the deceased lady stated in the witness-box that
in his opinion it was an imitation.
A remarkable fact was brought out in his evidence. Up to the year 1903
Miss Kerferd had invariably formed the letter with a particular loop, and
this was seen upon all the cheques, which had been retained by the bank.
After that date, however, she made her "k's" in a totally different
manner, and the looping of former years never occurred in any of her
writing. Now in the will alleged to have been written in 1898 it was
significant that the "k's" were formed in the manner of later years, and
not as Miss Kerferd made them in 1898.
Certain mistakes of spelling in the will were also characteristic of the
prisoner, whereas Miss Kerferd never made such slips. The names of the
witnesses upon the will, which by the way were also wrongly spelled, were
those of men who had been dead several years, but their relatives gave
evidence that these signatures were not genuine.
Evidence was also given by the present writer as to the age of the ink
upon the alleged will. The body of the will and the signatures of both
witnesses were all written in the same kind of ink--a fact of importance
in connection with the half-confession subsequently made by the prisoner.
On his appearance at the Old Bailey, Pilcher was defended by Mr. Marshall
Hall, and after two days' trial, he acted upon the advice of his counsel
and agreed to plead guilty to uttering the will, though he persisted in
his denial of having forged it.
When the prisoner's counsel rose to make this statement there was dead
silence, for everyone in court was aware that something unusual had
happened, and there passed over the room one of those feelings of tension
that make each individual in a crowd lose sight of everything except the
unfolding of the drama before them.
After calling several witnesses to the good character of the prisoner, Mr.
Marshall Hall made a strong appeal for mercy. Colonel Pilcher, he said,
had been a very intimate friend of this lady, who had frequently expressed
the intention of leaving him her money. Unfortunately, having put off
signing her will from day to day, she had died without carrying out that
intention, and unluckily for him the prisoner had found a will among her
papers, but without the signatures of the testatrix or witnesses. He now
owned that the signatures were not genuine, but did not know how they had
been put upon the will. In uttering the will he had only been attempting
to carry out the wish of the dead woman.
In mitigation of his offence it was pointed out that he had not spent all
the money he might have done, that he was over sixty years of age, and
that his wife who had known nothing of this unfortunate liaison of her
husband freely forgave him for any pain he might have caused her.
Before sentence was passed Mr. Muir, who conducted the case for the
prosecution, protested against the explanation of the finding of the will
that had been given in this confession, and said that in face of the
evidence that the ink upon the will was not more than six years old he
could not accept the view that the prisoner was not the forger of the
document.
The judge, in passing sentence, said that even now the prisoner had not
made a clean breast of the matter, for they were still in the dark as to
who had signed the names upon the will. However, taking into account the
good character that had been given to the accused by those who had known
him, and the points urged in his favour, he did not think that the extreme
measure of penal servitude was deserved, and the sentence would be one of
three years' penal servitude.