 | CHAPTER XVIII. Elinor Wyllys, or, The young folk of Longbridge |  |
18. CHAPTER XVIII.
“Are you acquainted with the difference
That holds this present question, in the court?”
Merchant of Venice.
As the time for the trial approached, the parties collected
in Philadelphia. Harry and his friends were often seen in
the streets, looking busy and thoughtful. Mr. Reed also
appeared, and took up his quarters at one of the great hotels,
in company with Mr. Clapp and his client, who generally
received the name of William Stanley, although he had not
yet established a legal claim to it. There was much curiosity
to see this individual, as the case had immediately
attracted general attention in the town, where the families
interested were so well known, and the singular circumstances
of the suit naturally excited additional interest.
After the court opened its session, it became doubtful at one
moment, whether the cause would be tried at that term; but
others which preceded it having been disposed of, the Stanley
suit was at length called.
On one side appeared William Stanley, the plaintiff, with
Messrs. Reed and Clapp as counsel; a number of witnesses
had been summoned by them, and were now present, mingled
with the audience. On the other hand were the defendants,
Mr. Wyllys, Hazlehurst, Ellsworth, and Mr. Grant, a distinguished
lawyer of Philadelphia, appearing more particularly
for Mrs. Stanley; they were also supported by witnesses of
their own.
While the preliminary steps were going on, the jury forming,
and the parties interested making their arrangements,
the court-room filled rapidly with the friends of Hazlehurst,
and a crowd of curious spectators. Among the individuals
known to us, were Robert Hazlehurst, Mr. Stryker, and
Charlie Hubbard, the young artist, who found that his want
of inches interfered with his view of the scene, and springing
on a bench, he remained there, and contrived to keep much
the same station throughout the trial, his fine, intelligent
countenance following the proceedings with the liveliest interest:
Harry soon perceived him, and the young men exchanged
friendly smiles. Mr. Stryker was looking on with
cold, worldly curiosity; while Robert Hazlehurst watched
over his brother's interest with much anxiety. In one sense
the audience was unequally divided at first, for while Harry
had many warm, personal friends present, the sailor was a
stranger to all; the aspect of things partially changed, however,
for among that portion of the crowd who had no particular
sympathies with the defendants, a number soon took
sides with the plaintiff. The curiosity to see the sailor was
very great; at one moment, in the opening of the trial, all
eyes were fixed on him; nor did Harry escape his share of
scrutiny.
It was immediately observed, by those who had known
the late Mr. Stanley, that the plaintiff certainly resembled
his family. He was dressed like a seaman, and appeared
quite easy and confident; seldom absent from court, speaking
little, but following the proceedings attentively. His counsel,
flushed, his eye was keen and restless, though he looked sanguine
and hopeful; running his hand through his dark curls,
he would lean back and make an observation to his client,
turn to the right and whisper something in the ear of Mr.
Reed, or bend over his papers, engrossed in thought.
The defendants, on their side, were certainly three as
respectable men in their appearance, as one would wish to
see; they looked, moved, and spoke like gentlemen; in
manner and expression they were all three perfectly natural;
simple, easy, but firm; like men aware that important interests
were at stake, and prepared to make a good defence.
Mr. Grant, their colleague, was an insignificant-looking man
when silent, but he never rose to speak, without commanding
the whole attention of his audience by the force of his talent.
The judges were well known to be respectable men, as
American magistrates of the higher grade are usually found
to be. In the appearance of the jury there was nothing
remarkable; the foreman was a shrewd-looking man, his
neighbour on the left had an open, honest countenance, two
others showed decidedly stupid faces, and one had a very
obstinate expression, as if the first idea that entered his head,
on any subject whatever, was seldom allowed to be dislodged.
Such was the appearance of things when the trial commenced.
Leaving the minutiæ of the proceedings to the
legal report of Mr. Bernard, understood to be in the press,
we shall confine ourselves to a brief, and very imperfect outline
of the speeches, and the most important points of the
testimony; merely endeavouring to give the reader a general
idea of the course of things, on an occasion so important to
Hazlehurst.
Mr. Clapp opened the case in a regular speech. Rising
from his seat, he ran his fingers through his hair, and commenced,
much as follows:
“We come before you on this occasion, gentlemen of the
jury, to plead a cause which it is believed is unprecedented,
and glorious country. Never, indeed, should I have believed
it possible that an American citizen could, under any circumstances
whatever, have been compelled during so long a period
to forego his just and legal rights; ay, that he could
be forced to the very verge of abandoning those rights—all
but forced to forget them. Yet, such are the facts of the case
upon which you are now to decide. The individual appearing
before you this day, claiming that the strong arm of the
law be raised in his behalf, first presented himself to me,
with the very same demand, six years since; to my shame
I confess it, he was driven unaided from my door—I refused
to assist him; he had already carried the same claim to others,
and received from others the same treatment. And what is
this claim, so difficult to establish? Is it some intricate legal
question? Is it some doubtful point of law? Is it a matter
which requires much learning to decide, much wisdom to
fathom? No, gentlemen; it is a claim clearly defined, firmly
established; never yet doubted, never yet denied: it is a
claim, not only recognized in the common-law of every land,
protected in the statute-books of every nation, but it is a
claim, gentlemen, which springs spontaneously from the
heart of every human being—it is the right of a son to his
father's inheritance. A right, dear alike to the son of one
of our merchant-princes, and to the son of the porter on our
wharves.”
Mr. Clapp paused; he looked about the court, rested his
eyes on his client, ran his fingers through his curls, and then
proceeded.
“Gentlemen; I have told you that it is the right of a son
to his father's inheritance, which we this day call upon you
to uphold. It is more; it is the sacred cause of the orphan
that you are to defend. Yes, gentlemen; at the moment
when William Stanley should have taken possession of the
inheritance, which was his by the threefold title of nature,
of law, and of parental bequest, he was a mere boy, a minor,
who carry the glorious colours of our great and happy
country into every port, who whiten every sea with American
canvass—he was a roving sailor-boy!”
And setting out from this point, Mr. Clapp made a general
statement of the case, coloured by all the cheap ornaments
of forensic eloquence, and varied by allusions to the glory of
the country, the learning of all judges, particularly American
judges, especially the judges then on the bench; the wisdom
of all juries, particularly American juries, especially
the jury then in the box. He confessed that his client had
been guilty of folly in his boyhood; “but no one, gentlemen,
can regret past misconduct more than Mr. Stanley; no son
ever felt more deeply than himself, regret, that he could not
have attended the death-bed of his father, received his last
blessing, and closed his eyes for the last time!” Mr. Clapp
then read parts of Mr. Stanley's will, gave an outline of his
client's wanderings, and was very particular with names
and dates. The sailor's return was then described in the
most pathetic colours. “He brought with him, gentlemen,
nothing but the humble contents of a sailor's chest, the hard-earned
wages of his daily toil; he, who in justice was the
owner of as rich a domain as any in the land!” The attempts
of this poor sailor to obtain his rights were then represented.
“He learned the bitter truth, gentlemen, that a poor seaman,
a foremast hand, with a tarpaulin hat and round-jacket, stood
little chance of being heard, as the accuser of the rich and
the powerful — the men who walked abroad in polished
beavers, and aristocratic broad-cloths.” Aristocracy having
once been brought upon the scene, was made to figure largely
in several sentences, and was very roughly handled indeed.
To have heard Mr. Clapp, one would have supposed aristocracy
was the most sinful propensity to which human nature
was liable; the only very criminal quality to which republican
nature might be inclined. Of course the defendants
were accused of this heinous sin; this brilliant passage concluded
before him.” Mr. Stanley was declared to be no aristocrat;
he was pronounced thoroughly plebeian in all his actions
and habits. “Like the individnal who has now the honour
of addressing you, gentlemen, Mr. Stanley is entirely free,
in all his habits and opinions, from the hateful stain of aristocracy.”
He continued, following his client's steps down to
the present time, much as they are already known to the
reader. Then, making a sudden change, he reviewed the
conduct of the defendants as connected with his client.
“What were their first steps at the death of Mr. Stanley,
the father? Merely those which were absolutely necessary
to secure themselves; they inquired for the absent son, but
they inquired feebly; had they waited with greater patience
he would have appeared, for the story of his disinheritance
would never have reached him. Whence did that story
proceed from? It is not for me to say; others now present
may be able to account for it more readily. No, gentlemen,
it is a bitter truth, that the conduct of the executors has been
consistent throughout, from the moment they first took possession
of the Stanley estate, until their appearance in this
court; the conduct of the rival legatee has also been marked
by the same consistent spirit of opposition, from the time of
his first interview with Mr. Stanley, after he had arrived at
years of discretion, and knew the value of the estate he
hoped to enjoy; from the moment, I say, when he coolly
ordered the unfortunate sailor to be locked up in Mr. Wyllys's
smoke-house, until the present instant, when his only
hope lies in denying the identity of Mr. Stanley's son.”
Mr. Clapp dwelt for some time upon this first interview, and
the smoke-house; as he had previously hinted to Hazlehurst,
he laboured to make that affair “look ugly,” to the best of
his ability. If the language of the Longbridge lawyer had
been respectful throughout the preliminary proceedings, his
tone in the court-room changed completely. As he drew
towards the close of his speech, he gave full scope to a burst
general, and particularly against the conduct of the defendants.
He declared himself forced to believe, that both Mr. Wyllys
and Hazlehurst had suspected the existence of William Stanley
from the first—others might have the charity to believe
they had been ignorant of the young man's existence, he
only wished he could still believe such to have been the fact
—he had believed them honestly ignorant of it, until it was
no longer possible for the prejudices of a long-standing friendship
and intimacy to blind his eyes, under the flood of light
presented by proofs as clear as day—proofs which his respected
brother, the senior counsel, and himself, were about
to lay before the court. He wished to be understood, however;
he never for one moment had included in these suspicions—so
painful to every candid, upright mind, but which
had recently forced themselves upon him—he repeated, that
in them he had never included the respected lady who filled
the place of step-mother to his client, whose representative
he now saw before him, in the person of a highly distinguished
lawyer of the Philadelphia bar; he did not suppose
that that venerable matron had ever doubted the death of her
husband's son. He knew that excellent lady, had often met
her in the social circle; none admired more than he, the
virtues for which she was distinguished; he had never supposed
it possible, that if aware of the existence of William
Stanley, she could have sat down calmly to enjoy his inheritance.
Such a case of turpitude might not be without example;
but he confessed that in his eyes, it would amount to
guilt of so black a dye, that he was unwilling to accuse human
nature of such depravity; it went beyond the powers of his,
Mr. Clapp's, imagination to comprehend. No, he acquitted
Mrs. Stanley of all blame; she had been influenced and
guided by the two gentlemen before him. He had himself
observed, that during all the preliminary proceedings, the
venerable step-mother of his client had shown many symptoms
of doubt and hesitation; it was his firm conviction, it
left to her own unbiassed judgment, Mrs. Stanley would
immediately have acknowledged her husband's son, and received
him as such. He appealed to the defendants themselves
if this were not true; he called upon them to deny
this assertion if they could—if they dared! Here Mr. Clapp
paused a moment, and looked towards Mr. Grant.
The defendants had already spoken together for an instant;
Mr. Ellsworth rose: “The answer which the counsel for
the plaintiff was so anxious to receive, was reserved for its
proper place in the defence. Where so much might be said,
he should scarcely be able to confine himself within the
bounds necessary at that moment. Let the counsel for the
plaintiff rest assured, however, that the answer to that particular
question, when given, would prove, like the general
answer of the defence, of a nature that the interrogator
would, doubtless, little relish.”
During Mr. Clapp's abusive remarks, and impudent insinuations
against himself and Mr. Wyllys, Hazlehurst, placing
one arm on the table before him, leaned a little forward,
and fixed his eye steadily, but searchingly, on the face of the
speaker. It proved as Harry had expected; the lawyer
looked to the right and left, he faced the judges, the jurors;
he glanced at the audience, raised his eyes to the ceiling, or
threw them upon his papers, but not once did he meet those
of Hazlehurst.
“Gentlemen of the jury; you will observe that the question
remains unanswered!” continued Mr. Clapp, with a
triumphant air. He then contrived to appeal to his brother
counsel to declare his own impressions, and gave Mr. Reed
an opportunity of affirming, that he had believed Mrs. Stanley
inclined to acknowledge their client; he spoke calmly
and impressively, in a manner very different from the hurried,
yet whining enunciation, and flourishing gestures of his colleague.
Mr. Clapp now proceeded to prepare the way for the evidence:
beforehand the firmest conviction of its effect on the court.
“I have been engaged in hundreds of suits, gentlemen; I
have been a regular attendant in courts of law from early
boyhood, and never, in the whole course of my experience,
have I met with a case, so peculiar and so important, supported
by a body of evidence so clear, so decided, so undeniable
as that which we shall immediately lay before you;”
and Mr. Clapp sat down, running his fingers through his curls.
The court here adjourned for an hour. The curiosity of
the audience seemed thoroughly excited; when the judges
reassembled, the room was even more crowded than in the
morning.
Before calling up the witnesses, Mr. Reed spoke for five
minutes; his dignified manner was a favourable preparation
for the testimony in the plaintiff's behalf.
The first fact proved, was the resemblance of the plaintiff
to William Stanley; this point was thoroughly investigated,
and settled without difficulty in favour of the plaintiff—some
half-a-dozen witnesses swearing to the identity, according to
the best of their belief. The fact that the defendants themselves
had acknowledged the personal resemblance, was also
made to appear; and Mr. Reed introduced the identity of
handwriting to strengthen the personal identity—several witnesses
giving their testimony on the subject. It seemed indeed,
clear, from the whole of this part of the evidence, that
there was no rational ground to doubt any other difference,
either in the personal resemblance or the handwriting, than
what might naturally exist in the same man, at the ages of
eighteen and thirty-seven.
The statement offered to the defendants some months since,
tracing the past career of the plaintiff, was now produced,
and the principal facts legally proved by different witnesses.
Officers and sailors of different vessels in which he had sailed,
were sworn. Among others, Captain —, of the packet-ship
***, testified to the plaintiff's having sailed in his vessel,
and it was very clearly proved, that at different intervals
since then, he had continued to bear the same name, although
he had also shipped under those of Bennet, Williams, and
Benson. The statement, as given already in our pages, was
borne out satisfactorily in most of its important facts by the
evidence; although on some points the counsel for the plaintiffs
confessed, that they had not been able to obtain all the
legal proofs they had wished for. After tracing the plaintiff's
steps as a sailor, the fact of his having been long endeavouring
to bring forward the claim he now made, was examined.
Mr. G—, a highly respectable lawyer of Baltimore, testified
to the fact that seven years previously, the plaintiff had
applied to him to undertake the case then before the court;
to speak frankly, this evidence surprised the defendants,
who were scarcely prepared for it. Then came proof of the
different applications to Mr. Clapp, his several visits to Longbridge,
and his presence at Wyllys-Roof six years previously,
when locked up in the out-house by Hazlehurst; Mr. Clapp
repeating at this moment, a very broad insinuation, that the
defendant knew the claims of the individual he had put in
confinement. His willingness to be examined, his ready
consent to an interview with Mr. Wyllys, Mrs. Stanley, and
Hazlehurst, the close examination which he bore at Wyllys-Roof,
were brought forward; and Mr. Clapp managed to
introduce most of the important questions of the defendants
at that time, with the accurate answers of the plaintiff, in his
account of that meeting.
The court adjourned at this time, and many individuals
among the audience seemed to incline very decidedly towards
the plaintiff. The personal friends of the defendants looked
somewhat anxious, although Mr. Wyllys and Hazlehurst still
showed a steady front. The testimony which we have given
so briefly, as much of it has already appeared in the narrative,
occupied the court more than one day, including the
different cross-examinations of several witnesses, by the defendants:
it on in his usual dry, sarcastic manner, but was unable to
effect any important change in the state of things.
The following morning, the plaintiff's papers were laid
before the court. The volume of the Spectator, and the
letters already produced at Wyllys-Roof, were shown. In
addition to these, the following papers were now brought
forward: A letter addressed to the name of Benson, on
board the British sloop-of-war, Ceres; another directed to
William Bennet, on board the Dutch barque William, when
at Batavia, nearly eighteen years since; this letter was important,
as it was evidently written to an American sailor,
and alluded to his having been recently shipwrecked on the
coast of Africa, and taken up by a Dutch vessel. These
documents were all received with great interest, and their
probable authenticity seemed generally admitted. Mr. Reed
then observed: “We shall close our evidence, gentlemen,
by laying before you testimony, sufficient in itself to prove
triumphantly the identity of the plaintiff, when connected
with a small portion only of that which has preceded it.”
He drew from his papers an old Russia-leather pocket-book,
with the initials W. S. stamped upon it in large Gothie
letters.
Mr. Wyllys made an involuntary movement as it was held
up for examination; that very pocket-book, or one exactly
like it, had he given himself to the son of his old friend, the
very last time he saw him. He watched the proceedings at
this moment with intense interest—evident to everybody.
“This pocket-book, gentlemen, is the property of the
plaintiff,” continued Mr. Reed. “The initials of his name,
W. S., stamped upon it, are half-effaced, yet still sufficiently
distinct to tell their story. But the contents of this precious
book are of still greater importance to the interests of my
client.”
Mr. Reed then opened it and drew from one side a letter,
and read the address, “William Stanley, New York, care of
letter, gentlemen of the jury, is signed John Stanley—it is
from the father of William Stanley, in whose name I now
submit it to your examination.” The letter was then read;
it corresponded entirely with the circumstances already known
to the reader; its date, nature, handwriting, all were perfectly
correct, and the signature was sworn to by several
witnesses. Mr. Wyllys was evidently moved when the letter
was read; he asked to look at it, and all eyes were turned
on his venerable countenance, as he silently examined the
paper. It was remarked that the hand which held the letter
was not steady, and the features which bent over it betrayed
perceptible agitation. Mr. Wyllys turned to Hazlehurst, as
he finished reading the sheet.
“It is undeniably genuine; the letter of John Stanley to
his son!” he said.
A short consultation succeeded between the defendants.
Hazlehurst wrote a line or two on a slip of paper, and handed
it to Mr. Wyllys, and then to Ellsworth and Mr. Grant.
“Will the counsel for the plaintiff tell us, why these documents
were not produced at the interview with the defendants?”
asked Mr. Ellsworth.
“We had several reasons for not doing so,” replied Mr.
Clapp. “Had our client not been received so coldly, and
every effort employed to misunderstand him, we should have
produced them earlier; although it would have been impossible
to have shown them at that meeting, since they were
not then in our possession.”
“Will the plaintiff state where, and from whom he first
received that pocket-book?” asked Mr. Grant.
Here the counsel for the plaintiff consulted together a
moment. It seemed as if their client was willing to answer
the question, and that Mr. Reed advised his doing so, but
Mr. Clapp opposed it.
“The defendants must be aware,” he said, “that they had
no right to question his client; Mr. Stanley therefore declined
place, answered many inquiries of theirs, in a manner which
had, doubtless, appeared satisfactory to the court, although
it had not satisfied the defendants. Mr. Stanley had lost all
hope of answering any question of the defendants, in a
manner satisfactory to them.”
Here the defendants were engaged for a moment in making
notes.
Mr. Reed proceeded with the contents of the pocket-book.
“The letter of the father to his erring son, is not the only
testimony we shall produce from the pocket-book of my
client, gentlemen.”
A printed slip of newspaper, soiled, and yellow with age,
was then drawn from one of the pockets, and read by Mr.
Reed: “Married, Wednesday, the 10th, at Trinity Church,
New York, by the Rev. Charles G. Stanley, John Stanley,
of Greatwood, Pennsylvania, to Elizabeth, daughter of the
late Myndert Van Ryssen, of Poughkeepsie.”
Again the defendants showed evident interest. Mr. Wyllys
passed his hand over his face, to drive away melancholy
recollections of the past; the present Mrs. Stanley was Miss
Van Ryssen, and at that marriage he had stood by the side
of his friends, as the priest united them.
“Is not that a touching memorial, gentlemen, of the workings
of natural feeling in the heart of a misguided boy? He
had left his father, left his home, left his friends in a fit of
reckless folly, but when he meets with the name of the
parent from whom he is estranged, in an American paper,
in a distant land, he cuts the paragraph from the sheet, and
it is carefully preserved among his precious things, during
many succeedings years of hardships, and of wrongs. But
there is another striking fact connected with that scrap of
paper; the individual whose name stands there, as connected
in the closest of human ties with the young man's father, is
the same, whose legal representative I now see before me,
prepared to oppose, by every means in his power, the claim
of his dying father. The simplest language I can
choose, will best express the force of facts so painful. The
circumstances are before you; it rests with you to say,
whether tardy justice shall not at length make some amends
for the wrongs of the last eighteen years.”
The defendants here asked to look at the paper; they
could find no fault with it; in texture, colour, accuracy, every
point, it corresponded with what it should be.
Mr. Reed paused an instant, and then continued. “But,
gentlemen of the jury, this old and well-worn pocket-book,
the companion of my client's wanderings, and hard fortunes;
the letter from the father to the son, received as authentic,
without an instant's hesitation, by the defendants themselves;
the marriage notice of the deceased father and the step-mother,
now his legal opponent, are not the only proofs to
be drawn from this portion of our testimony.”
Mr. Reed then opened the pocket-book, and showed that
it had originally contained a number of leaves of blank
paper; these leaves were partially covered with the hand-writing
of William Stanley. The date of his going to sea,
and the names of the vessels he had sailed in, were recorded.
Brief, random notes occurred, of no other importance than
that of proving the authenticity of the pocket-book. A
sailor's song was written on one page; another was half-covered
with figures, apparently some trifling accounts of
his own. The date of a particular storm of unusual severity,
was put down, with the latitude and longitude in which
it occurred, the number of hours it lasted, and the details of
the injury done to the vessel. This rude journal, if such it
may be called, was handed to the jury, and also examined
by the defendants.
Mr. Grant took it, observing with his usual set expression,
and caustic manner, that “it was certainly the pocket-book
of a sailor, probably the pocket-book of William Stanley.
It was connected with a singular story, a very singular
altogether the most extraordinary compound of leather and
paper, that ever happened to fall in his way. If he was not
mistaken, he had understood that the plaintiff, among other
remarkable adventures, claimed to have just escaped drowning,
by the skin of his teeth, when picked up on the coast
of Africa, in the winter of 181-. His pocket-book seemed
to have borne the shipwreck equally well; it was landed
high and dry in that court-house, without a trace of saltwater
about it. How did the plaintiff manage to preserve it
so well? He should like the receipt, it might prove useful.”
Mr. Grant had been looking down very attentively at the
pocket-book while speaking, occasionally holding it up for
others to see, with studied carelessness; as he put the question,
he suddenly raised his eyes, without changing his position,
and fixed them searchingly, with a sort of ironical simplicity,
on Mr. Clapp and his client.
“I can tell him all about it,” the plaintiff was heard to
say, by those near him.
There was a moment's consultation between the plaintiff
and his counsel. A juror then expressed a wish to hear the
explanation.
Mr. Clapp rose and said: “When Mr. Stanley was
picked up by the `William,' does the counsel for my client's
step-mother suppose, that he was the only remnant of the
wreck floating about? If he does, he happens to be mistaken.
Mr. Stanley says there were two others of the crew
picked up at the time he was, with the hope of restoring
life, but they were dead. There were also several chests,
and various other objects brought on board the `William.'
One of the chests was his client's. The pocket-book was contained
in a tin box, which happened to be wrapped in a piece
of old sail-cloth, and nothing in the box was wet. It contained
several old bank-notes, besides the pocket-book, and they
were not wet. He hoped the counsel for his client's step-mother
was satisfied.”
Mr. Grant bowed. “Much obliged for the explanation;
but he was still inclined to think, that there must have been
some peculiar process employed with that highly important
pocket-book.”
Mr. Clapp replied by a short burst of indignation, at the
intolerable insinuations of his opponent, and appealed to the
court to silence them. Mr. Grant was accordingly reminded
by the judge, that unless he had something beyond mere
insinuations to offer, his remarks could not be listened to.
Mr. Reed then related how these papers had been lost by his
client, some years since; they had been left in a box at a
boarding-house, during a voyage he made in the Pacific; the
house was burnt down, and Mr. Stanley had believed his
papers lost, until he recently heard they were in possession
of a shipmate, at New Bedford. Mr. Clapp and himself had
gone there, and easily obtained them again from Robert
Stebbins, the man in whose hands they had been since the
fire. The fact of the fire was proved; Stebbins was sworn,
and testified to having saved the box with his own effects,
and his having quite lately returned it to the owner, on first
hearing an account of the suit in which he was engaged.
This part of the testimony was clearly laid before the court
by Mr. Reed; and the evidence for the plaintiffs was closed,
with these papers, and the examination of Stebbins, through
whose hands they had come.
The cross-examination of the different witnesses was still
conducted by Mr. Grant; several of the witnesses were
made to contradict each other, and partially to contradict
themselves; but as it was only on points of minor importance,
no material change could be effected in the general
appearance of things, in spite of all Mr. Grant's ingenuity.
He kept Stebbins a long time on the stand; and once or
twice this individual seemed a good deal confused in manner
and expression; still nothing important could be drawn from
him, his account of the papers corresponding sufficiently well
with that of the plaintiff.
It was late in the afternoon when the proceedings of the
trial reached this stage, and the court adjourned. Some of
Hazlehurst's friends were uneasy, others were confident of
success; Mr. Stryker declared he thought the sailor had
made out a very strong case, and he predicted that he would
gain the suit. It is not to be supposed that Mrs. Stanley,
and the ladies at Wyllys-Roof, were left in ignorance of what
passed in the court-room. Robert Hazlehurst, at whose
house Mrs. Stanley and Miss Wyllys were staying, made
brief notes of the proceedings every few hours, and sent
them to his wife and friends, who despatched them by every
mail to the younger ladies at Wyllys-Roof.
When the court met again, the time for the defendants to
be heard had arrived.
The defence was opened by Hazlehurst; he had had but
little practice at the bar, but, like most educated Americans,
it required but little to fit him for speaking in public. His
voice was good, his manner and appearance were highly in
his favour; he had the best of materials to work with, native
ability, cultivated by a thorough education, and supported by
just views and sound principles. Energy of character and
feeling helped him also; warming as he proceeded, he threw
himself fully into his subject, and went on with a facility
surprising to himself, and far surpassing the most sanguine
expectations of his friends. As for his opponents, they had
anticipated very little from him. We give a sketch of his
opening remarks:
“It is the first time, gentlemen,” he said, on rising to speak,
“that the individual who now addresses you, has ever appeared
in a high court of justice, as an act of self-defence. I
have never yet been solemnly called upon to account for my
past actions by any fellow-creature. My moral motives have
never yet been publicly impugned. The position in which
I now stand, accused of denying the just rights of another,
of wilfully withholding the parental inheritance from the
son of my benefactor, is therefore as novel to myself in its
peculiar circumstances.
“I have already learned, however, during the few years
that I have filled a place on the busy stage of active life,
that in the world to which we belong, Truth herself is compelled
to appear on the defensive, nearly as often, perhaps,
as Error. I have no right therefore to complain. So long
as I am included in the same accusation, so long as I am
associated in the same defence with the venerable man at
my side—one, whose honourable career has furnished to the
community represented by this assembly, a noble model of
conduct during three-score years and ten; one whom it has
been the especial object of my endeavours to follow, in my
own path through life—so long, I can have no wish to shrink
from the situation in which I am placed; I can find no room
for doubts or misgivings, as to the wisdom and rectitude of
the course I have adopted.
“That the position, however, in which we stand before you,
on the present occasion, gentlemen, is one that requires explanation,
we readily admit; it is too remarkable in its particulars
to escape the searching inquiry of justice. We
appear in this court, the executors and legatee of Mr. Stanley—his
widow, his nearest friend, and his adopted representative—to
deny a claim, just in itself, advanced in the
name of his only son. Such a position must be either quite
untenable, totally unjustifiable, an outrage upon the common
decency of society, or it must stand on the firm foundation
of truth. You will easily believe, that such a position would
never have been taken, under circumstances so extraordinary,
by three individuals, possessing only a common share
of honesty and good sense, unless they had held it to be one
which they could maintain. You will readily admit, that it
is the very last position which a man of clear integrity, good
character, and natural feeling would wish to assume, unless
acting from conscientious motives, and guided by sound
reason.
“I have no wish to parade a stoical indifference to the
pecuniary interests at stake to-day; they are such as must
seriously affect my fortunes for years, possibly for life. A
cause involving so large a sum of money, so fine a landed
estate, honourably acquired by the late proprietor, and generously
bequeathed to myself, must necessarily include many
interests of a varied character. Many grateful recollections
of the past, many hopes for the future, have been connected
in my mind with the house at Greatwood; from early boyhood
I have been taught to look forward to it, as a home and
a resting-place, when the busiest years of life shall have
passed. These interests, however, although among the best
enjoyments of existence, are of a nature entirely personal,
forgive me, if for a moment I have glanced at them. But,
gentlemen, if I have always valued the bequest of Mr. Stanley,
from its own intrinsic importance, from the many advantages
it has already procured me, from the hopes with which
it is connected, and from the grateful recollection, that to the
friendly affection of my benefactor I owe its possession, yet,
I solemnly affirm, in the hearing of hundreds of witnesses,
that there is no honest occupation, however humble, no
labour, however toilsome, that I would not at this instant
cheerfuly exchange for it, rather than retain that inheritance
one hour from its rightful owner, could I believe him to be
living.
“No human being, I trust, who knows the principles from
which I have hitherto acted, can show just ground for mistrusting
this declaration.
“But, fellow-citizens of the jury, to you I am a stranger.
There is not one of your number, as I now scan the faces in
your box, that I recognize as that of an acquaintance. I
cannot, therefore, expect you to believe this assertion, unsupported
by evidence of its truth. I willingly leave vain declamation
to those who have no better weapon to work with;
were it in my power to influence your decision, by volleys
of words without meaning, sound without sense, such as
for the honourable office you now fill, would deter me from
following such a course; self-respect would naturally prevent
me from following so closely the example of the orator who
first addressed you on behalf of the plaintiff. I have often
before heard that orator, fellow-citizens of the jury; this is
not the first occasion upon which I have listened with simple
wonder, to a fluency which ever flows undisturbed, undismayed,
whether the obstacles in its way be those of law or
justice, reason or truth. But if I have wondered at a facility
so remarkable, never, for a single instant, have I wished to
rival this supple dexterity. It is an accomplishment one
can scarcely envy. On the other hand, these wholesale
supplies of bombastic declamation form so large a part of
the local stock in trade of the individual to whom I refer,
that it would seem almost cruel to deprive him of them; we
have all heard a common expression, more easily understood
than explained, but which would be quite applicable to the
pitiable state of the counsel for the plaintiff, when deprived
of his chief support, his favourite modes of speech — he
would then be reduced, gentlemen, to less than nothing.”
Hazlehurst's face was expressive enough as he uttered these
words.
“No, fellow-citizens of the jury, I shall not ask you to
believe a single assertion of my own, unsustained by proof.
At the proper moment, the testimony which we possess in
favour of the death of Mr. Stanley's son, and the facts which
have led us to mistrust the strange story which you have just
heard advanced in behalf of the plaintiff, will be laid before
you. At present, suffer me, for a moment longer, to refer to
the leading motives which have induced us to appear in this
court, as defendants, under circumstances so singular.
“The importance which, as legatee of Mr. Stanley, I
attach to his generous gift, has not been denied. But, independently
of this, there are other causes sufficient in themselves
to have brought me into this hall, and these motives I
we conceive ourselves to be justified in refusing the demand
of the plaintiff, as a consequence of this conviction, we must
necessarily hold it to be an imperative duty to repel, by every
honest means in our power, a claim we believe false. This
is a case which allows of no medium course. On one hand,
either we, the defendants, are guilty of an act of the most
cruel injustice; or, on the other, the individual before you,
assuming the name of William Stanley, is an impostor.
The opinion of those most intimately connected with the late
Mr. Stanley, is clearly proclaimed, by the stand they have
deliberately taken, after examining the evidence with which
the plaintiff advances his extraordinary claim. This individual
who, from his own account, was content to remain for
years in a state of passive indifference to the same important
inheritance, now claimed so boldly, in defiance of so many
obstacles, we believe to be an impostor; not a single, lingering
scruple prevents my repeating the declaration, that I
believe him to be a bold and daring impostor.
“With this opinion, is it expected that I shall calmly endure
that one, whose only title consists in his cunning and
his audacity, should seize with impunity, property, legally
and justly my own? Is it believed that I shall stand idly
by, without a struggle to defend the name of my deceased
benefactor from such impudent abuse? That I should be
content to see the very hearth-stone of my friend seized, by
the grossest cupidity? That I should surrender the guardianship
of his grave to one, with whom he never had a
thought, a feeling, a sympathy in common?—to one, who
would not scruple to sell that grave for a bottle of rum?
“Every feeling revolts at the thought of such a shameful
neglect of duty! No; I acknowledge myself bound, by
every obligation, to oppose to the last extremity, such an
audacious invasion of right and truth. Every feeling of
respect and gratitude to the memory of my benefactor, urges
the affection of the widow, revive, and unite in the defence.
“But, fellow-citizens of the jury, my own personal rights,
sufficient on a common occasion to rouse any man, the duties
owed by each of the defendants to the memory of Mr. Stanley—duties
sacred in the eyes of every right-thinking man,
these are not the only motives which call upon us to oppose
the plaintiff, to repel with all the strength we can command
this daring act of piracy.
“There is another duty still more urgent, a consideration
of a still higher character, involved in the course we pursue
to-day. There is one object before us, far surpassing in importance
any to which I have yet alluded; it is one, fellow-citizens
of the jury, in which each individual of your number
is as deeply concerned as ourselves, in which the highest
earthly interests of every human being in this community
are included; it is the one great object for which these walls
were raised, this hall opened, which has placed those honourable
men as judges on the seat of justice, which has called
you together, from the less important pursuit of your daily
avocations, to give an impartial opinion in every case brought
before you; it is the high object of maintaining justice in
the community to which we all equally belong. I am willing
to believe, fellow-citizens of the jury, that you are fully
aware of the importance of your own office, of the dignity
of this court, of the necessity of its existence, of its activity
to protect the honest and inoffensive citizen, against the designing,
the unprincipled, and the violent. Such protection
we know to be absolutely binding upon every community
claiming to be civilized; we know that without it no state
of society, at all worthy of the dignity of human nature, at
all worthy of the dignity of freemen, can exist; without
active justice, indeed, the name of Freedom becomes a mere
sound of mockery. I have been taught to hold the opinion,
gentlemen, that if there is one obligation more imperative
than any other, imposed upon an American by the privileges
in her full integrity; of raising his voice in her behalf when
she is threatened, of raising his arm in her defence when
she is assailed. To move at the first clear appeal of justice,
is surely one of the chief duties of every American citizen,
of every man blessed with freedom of speech and freedom
of action; and, surely, if this be a general rule, it would
become a double act of moral cowardice, to desert the post,
when those individual rights, confided especially to my own
protection, including interests so important to myself, are audaciously
assailed. If there are circumstances which partially
remove the weight of this obligation, of this public
struggle for justice, from portions of the community, from
the aged, who have already firmly upheld every honourable
principle through a long course of years, and from those
who are confined by their natural position to the narrow but
holy circle of domestic duties; if such be honourable exemptions
from bearing the brunt of the battle, it is only to
open the front rank to every active citizen, laying claim to
manliness and honesty. Such I conceive to be the obligation
imposed upon myself, by the demand of the plaintiff. Upon
examination, I can find no sufficient evidence to support this
claim; it becomes therefore, in my belief, by its very nature,
an atrocious outrage alike to the living and the dead—an
insulting violation of natural justice and the law of the land,
sufficient to rouse every justifiable effort in resistance.
“Whenever attention may be called to a question, of a
character audaciously unprincipled, even when quite independent
of personal advantage and personal feeling, I should
still hope that duty as a man, duty as a freeman, would have
sufficient influence over my actions, to urge me forward in
opposition to its unrighteous demands, just so far as common
sense and true principle shall point the way. Such I conceive
to be the character of the present question; were there
no pecuniary interest, no individual feeling at stake, I should
position in which I now stand.
“The grounds upon which this opinion as to the character
of the case has been formed, the grounds upon which we
base our defence, must now be laid before you.”
After this opening, Harry proceeded with an outline of the
testimony for the defence. His statement was very clear and
accurate throughout; but as it contained nothing but what is
already known to the reader, we shall omit this part of his
remarks.
After he had given a general account of the conduct and
views of the defendants, Mr. Ellsworth proceeded to lay the
legal evidence in their possession, before the court. The
first point examined, was the testimony they had received as
to the death of William Stanley. The wreck of the Jefferson
was easily proved, by a letter from the captain of the
American ship Eagle, who had spoken the Jefferson the
morning of the gale in which she was lost, and having safely
rode out the storm himself, had afterwards seen the wreck.
This letter was written on Captain Green's arrival in port,
and was in answer to inquiries of Mr. Wyllys; besides an
account of the gale, and the wreck of the Jefferson, it contained
the united opinions of his mates and himself, that no
one could have escaped, unless under very extraordinary
circumstances, as the vessel herself had foundered, and no
boat could have lived in such a tempest. During a calm
which had followed the gale, they had fallen in with fragments
of the wreck, some of which had been used in repairing
their own vessel; they had seen several dead bodies,
and had taken up an empty boat, and several other objects,
but nothing which threw farther light on the subject. William
Stanley's name, as one of the crew of the Jefferson,
was next produced; this part of the testimony came through
our acquaintance, Mr. Hopkins, who had been the owner of
the Jefferson. Then came proofs of the many efforts made
by the executors, to obtain accounts of Mr. Stanley's son, by
ports of the country, repeated during five years; many letters
and communications were also produced, all strengthening the
report of the young man's death. An agent had been employed
by Mrs. Stanley, for one year, with no other object
than that of searching for intelligence of her step-son; the
man himself was dead, but his letters were read, and sworn
to by his wife. Only once had the executors obtained a
faint hope of the young man's existence; the second-mate
of a whaler reported that he had known a William Stanley,
a foremast hand, in the Pacific; but eventually it appeared,
that the man alluded to was much older than Mr. Stanley's
son, and his name was Sanley. Nothing could be more
clearly proved, than the efforts of the executors to obtain
accurate intelligence as to the young man's fate; and it was
also evident from the reports received, that they could have
had no good reason to doubt his death. The next points
examined, included the person and conduct of the plaintiff.
The bad character of the plaintiff was made to appear in the
course of this examination; “a character which seems at least
to have always clung to that individual, under the various
names it has pleased him to assume at different times,” observed
Mr. Ellsworth. It was clearly shown that he was
considered a man of no principles, even among his comrades.
The personal identity was fully examined; this part of the
testimony excited intense interest among the audience, while
even the court seemed to listen with increased attention.
The opinions of the different witnesses on this point were
not disputed; the general resemblance of the plaintiff to the
Stanleys was not denied; the similarity of handwriting was
also admitted; but Mr. Ellsworth argued, that such resemblances,
among persons who were in no way related to each
other, were not uncommon; probably every individual in
that court-room had been told fifty times, that he was like A.,
B., or C. Occasionally, such resemblances were really very
marked indeed. He then cited the instance of a man who
identity, sworn to by many individuals; and yet, a year after,
it was discovered that the real criminal was living; and these
two men, so strikingly alike, had never even seen each other,
nor were they in any manner related to each other. But
who could say whether the plaintiff were actually so much
like William Stanley? It was not certain that any individual
in that room had seen the young man for eighteen years; but
one of the defendants had any distinct recollection of him,
even at that time; the colour of the hair, and a general resemblance
in complexion and features, might well be the
amount of all that could be advanced in favour of the likeness;
the plaintiff resembled the Stanleys, father and son;
but probably a hundred other men might be picked up in the
country, in whom the same resemblance might be found—
men who laid no claim to the name or estate of Mr. Stanley.
Similarity of handwriting was not uncommon either; and
here some dozen notes and letters were produced, and proved
to a certain degree that this assertion was correct; in several
cases the resemblance was very great; and Mr. Ellsworth
maintained, that with the documents in the possession of the
sailor, undeniably written by young Stanley, any common
writer, devoid of honesty, might have moulded his hand by
practice to an imitation of it, sufficient for forgery. So much
for the resemblance; he would now point out the difference
between the plaintiff and William Stanley in two points,
which, if clearly proved, must convince the jury that identity
was utterly impossible, a pure fiction, a gross deception.
He then produced the portrait of William Stanley; after
acknowledging that there was some general resemblance, he
suddenly showed the difference in the formation of the hands,
fingers, and nails, between the boy and the plaintiff. This
difference was indeed striking, for Ellsworth took a moment
to point it out, when the sailor was in court, and engaged in
putting a piece of tobacco in his mouth, and his hands were
in full view. For a second he seemed out of countenance,
Mr. Ellsworth entered very minutely into this fact,
showing that painters usually gave a correct idea of the hand,
when it was introduced in a portrait; and the impossibility
of the natural formation of the hand being entirely changed,
either by time or hard work, was proved by the testimony
of anatomists. The family physician of the late Mr. Stanley
was an important witness at this stage of the trial; he swore
to the fidelity of the portrait, and confirmed the fact of the
particular formation of William Stanley's limbs when a boy;
he thought it very improbable that a lad of his frame and
constitution would ever become as heavy and robust as the
plaintiff. He was asked by a juror if he thought this impossible?
“No; he could not say it was impossible.” The
difference in gait was then examined.
“There is yet another point to be examined,” said Ellsworth,
“similar in nature, but still more decided in its bearing.”
He then brought forward all the testimony that had
been collected, as to the temper and capacity of William
Stanley; it was clearly proved, chiefly by the young man's
tutors and companions, that he was morose and stubborn in
disposition, and dull in intellect. So far this point was easily
settled; but it was difficult to place the opposite facts, of the
cleverness and better temper of the plaintiff, as clearly before
the court as they had appeared to the defendants. Any one
who had seen him under the same circumstances as Mr. Wyllys
and Hazlehurst, during the last three months, would have
been convinced of this difference; but in the court-room it
was not so easy to place the matter beyond dispute, although
two witnesses gave their opinions on this point, under oath,
and Ellsworth did all he could, by attracting attention to the
plaintiff, to his manner and expression; but he was not quite
satisfied with the result of his own endeavours.
“Let us now look at the conduct of this individual; we
shall find it, I think, quite inconsistent with what any man
of plain, good sense, would have supposed the most easy and
hand, it is entirely consistent throughout, in being strongly
marked with the stamp of improbability, in its general aspect,
and in its details.” After a review of the plaintiff's course,
as it stood in his own statement, he proceeded to investigate
his conduct during the last three months, maintaining, that
had he really been William Stanley, he would have presented
himself long since to Mr. Wyllys, unsupported by Mr. Clapp;
he would not have found it necessary to visit Greatwood,
and examine the house and place so thoroughly, before submitting
to an examination; he would not have waited to be
examined, he would voluntarily have told his own story in
a manner to produce undeniable conviction. For instance,
but a few weeks since, when, if we may believe his story,
that pocket-book came into possession again, had he gone
to Mr. Wyllys, shown it, and merely told him accurately,
from whom, when, and where he had first received it, he
would have been immediately recognized as the individual
he claims to be. Had he been William Stanley, he could
have told those simple facts, he would have told them; while
they were facts which it was impossible that an impostor
should know, since they were confined entirely to Mr. Wyllys
and his friend's son—Mr. Wyllys himself having given the
pocket-book to William Stanley when they were alone together.
He appealed to every man there present, what
would have been his own conduct under such circumstances?
As to the readiness of Mr. Wyllys to receive William Stanley,
could he believe him living, it was proved by the past
conduct of the executors, their anxiety to obtain a correct
account of the young man's fate, their hopes at first, their
regrets at last, when hope had died away. Ellsworth closed
his speech by observing, that after this review of the circumstances,
considering the striking differences pointed out in
person, temper, and capacity, from those of William Stanley,
the irreconciliable difference in the gait and formation of the
limbs, and the unnatural conduct of the plaintiff throughout,
son of his deceased friend, it would have been a gross neglect
of duty on his part.
There now remained but one act to complete the defence.
It was concluded by Mr. Grant, who went over the whole
case in a speech, in his usual well-known manner, learned
and close in its reasoning, caustic and severe in its remarks
on the opposite party. His general view was chiefly legal;
occasionally, however, he introduced short and impressive
remarks on the general aspect of the case, and the particular
character of the most suspicious facts presented by the plaintiff;
he was severe upon Mr. Clapp, showing a shrewd and
thorough knowledge of the man, and the legal species to
which he belonged. The Longbridge lawyer put on an
increase of vulgar nonchalance for the occasion, but he was
unable to conceal entirely his uneasiness under the sharp
and well-aimed hits of one, so much his superior in standing
and real ability. Mr. Grant dwelt particularly upon the
suspicious appearance of the facts connected with the volume
of the Spectator, and the pocket-book, both of which he
admitted to have belonged to William Stanley originally;
and he seemed to manage the difference in temper and
capacity more effectually than Mr. Ellsworth had done.
His speech was listened to with the closest attention during
several hours; after having reviewed the testimony on both
sides and finished his legal survey of the ground, he concluded
as follows:
“Gentlemen of the jury; the facts of this case are before
you, so far at least as we could reach them; there are doubtless
others behind the curtain which might prove highly important
in assisting your decision. You have followed me
over the dull track of the law wherever it led us near this
case, and I thank you for the patience you have shown.
The subject is now fully before you, and I conceive that you
will agree with me that in the present case, the counsel
for the plaintiff have undertaken a task of no ordinary difficulty.
of its different aspects; but really, in the whole course of
my experience at the bar, it has never yet fallen to my lot to
witness so startling a feat of legal legerdemain, as that attempted
in this court-room by the counsel for the plaintiff.
I conceive, gentlemen, that they are engaged in a task seldom
attempted since the days of wizards and necromancers—they
have undertaken to raise a ghost!”
It was now time for the plaintiff's lawyers to close the
trial. Mr. Clapp wished to speak again, but Mr. Reed took
the case entirely in his own hands; he was evidently firmly
convinced of the identity of his client with William Stanley,
and the natural indignation he felt at the accusations of the
defendants, and the treatment the sailor had received from
the executors, gave unusual warmth to his manner, which
was generally calm; it was remarked that he had never
made a stronger speech than on that occasion. He did not
dispute the honesty of the opinions of Mr. Wyllys and
Hazlehurst, but he conceived they had no right to hold such
opinions after examining the testimony in behalf of the
plaintiff. He conceived that the defendant attached an importance
altogether puerile to mere common probability,
every-day probability; how many facts, now proved as
clearly as human evidence can prove, have worn at first an
improbable aspect to many minds! How many legal cases
of an improbable nature might be cited! He would only
allude to a few; and here he went over several remarkable
cases on record.
“And yet he would even engage to answer the objections
against his client on this very ground of probability; much
had been said about the volume of the Spectator, but Mr.
Hazlehurst could not swear to having read it at Greatwood
four years since; while it appeared on cross-examination
that his brother had the same edition of that book in Philadelphia,
and that Mr. H. was in the habit of reading his
brother's books; it also appeared that other volumes had
last four years. He held it then to be clearly probable; first,
that Mr. H. had not read that identical volume shown at the
interview, but one belonging to his brother; secondly, that
the same volume had not been lost within the last four years;
that others had been lost was certain, but that this volume
had been in the possession of his client for nearly twenty
years was probable.” He went on in the same way to prove
the probability of his client's gait having been changed, like
that of other sailors, by a life at sea; that his whole body
had become heavier and coarser from twenty years' hard
work, and change of habits. He here made Dr. B., the
physician who had testified on this subject, appear in a ridiculous
light, by quoting some unfortunately obscure remarks
he had made under cross-examination.
“Then, as to his client's temper, he hoped it had improved
with age, but he thought that point had not been as clearly
settled as his best friends could wish; still, it was by no
means improbable that it had improved under the salutary
restraints of greater intercourse with the world. Who has
not known persons whose tempers have become better under
such circumstances? As to the capacity of his client, that
had also probably been roused into greater activity by the
same circumstances. Who has not heard of striking instances
in which boys have been pronounced stupid by their
masters and playfellows, and yet the same lads have afterwards
turned out even brilliant geniuses?” He mentioned
several instances of this kind. He went over the most striking
features of the whole case in this manner, but we are
necessarily compelled to abridge his remarks. “He accepted
this ground of probability fully and entirely; the conduct of
his client had been thought unnatural; he conceived that the
very same stubborn, morose disposition, which the defendants
had laboured so hard to fasten upon William Stanley, would
account in the most probable manner for all that had been
unusual in the conduct of his client. The same boy who at
brilliant prospects for a sailor's hardships, might very naturally
have continued to feel and to act as the plaintiff had
done.”
He then brought together all the points in favour of the
sailor, “The resemblance between the plaintiff and William
Stanley had been called trifling by the counsel for the
defendants; he considered it a remarkably strong resemblance,
since it included not only acknowledged personal
likeness, but also similarity of handwriting, of age, of occupation,
the possession of documents admitted to be authentic
by the defendants themselves, with knowledge of past events,
persons, and places, such as would be natural in William
Stanley but quite beyond the reach of a common stranger.
He conceived that the great number of different points in
his client's favour was a far stronger ground for the truth of
his claim, than any one fact, however striking, standing alone.
He held that this mass of evidence, both positive and circumstantial,
could be accounted for in no other way at all probable,
than by admitting the identity of his client. He conceived
it also probable that any unprejudiced man would
take the same view of this case; a case singular in its first
aspect, though not more singular than hundreds of others on
record, and entirely within the bounds of possibility in every
fact, while it assumed greater probability the farther it was
examined.” He then adverted to several points merely
legal, and finally concluded by a strong appeal in behalf of
the plaintiff.
The judge rose to make his charge; it was strictly legal
and impartial, chiefly reminding the jury that they were to
decide entirely from the facts which had been placed before
them; if they thought the evidence to which they listened
sufficient to prove legally the identity of the plaintiff as
William Stanley, they must give a verdict in his favour; if
they held that evidence to be incomplete and insufficient,
according to the legal views which must be their guide, they
with explaining one or two legal points, and an injunction
to weigh the whole evidence impartially, the judge
took his seat.
The jury rose; marshalled by constables and headed by
their foreman, they turned from the box and left the court-room
to consider their verdict.
Another cause was called. The parties interested, their
friends, and the crowd of curious spectators poured from the
building, discussing as they moved along the probable result,
which could scarcely be known until the next morning, for
it was late on the fourth night that the trial closed.
| CHAPTER XVIII. Elinor Wyllys, or, The young folk of Longbridge | |