Part 2

Let not the once deluded, and since obstinate Men, conceive they will be supported by the Testimony of the Girl's coming Home in this emaciated Condition, of this black Colour, and with this Aspect of a putrid Carcase: Let them enquire, whether this was the Condition in which she was first seen, and they will find it false: Let them ask themselves, and their own Reason, if a Creature, in such a State, could have walked Home; they will find it as absurd as the rest of the wild Story: and there is as much Moral Certainty that it is false; invented by bad Men to serve Purposes; and countenanc'd by weak ones who believ'd it.

It does not appear, (unless her own contemptible Story can be believ'd) that she was confin'd any where, otherwise than by her own Consent: It is not true that she returned in this dreadful Condition; nor can it be true, that she could have supported Life till she arrived at it, and after that have walked ten Miles immediately, or have been carried as far so very soon after it. That she was not confin'd where she says, is clear beyond all Possibility of Doubting, and there will remain not the least Thought of it, even among her best Friends, as soon as the Proofs, now in the Lord Mayor's Hands, shall appear: In the mean Time, I, who have seen them, say it; and have, I hope, some Right to be believ'd.

Where a Girl, like this, could be; and how employed during the time; is not difficult to imagine. Not with a Lover certainly, say you! You would be happy, Sir, if all you beg should be allowed you. Not with a Lover, Sir! Eighteen, let me remind you, is a critical Age; and what would not a Woman do, that had made an Escape, to recover her own Credit, and screen her Lover. I pretend to no Knowledge of this, as having been the Case with Respect to the Girl of whom I speak; but, if we are to reason, let us do it freely; and what appears so likely?

The Description she gave of the Room in which she had been confined, is urged by you to justify; but, Sir, that Circumstance alone ought to condemn her. Let me not be understood to speak of that Description, which she gave after she had seen it: That Subterfuge may serve for the Excuse of those who will be found to want it. But let us now enquire with better Judgment: Let us, Sir, appeal to that Account she gave before the sitting Alderman, by whom she was first examined; and we shall find it countenance the worst that can be thought against her. Observe the Articles.

She described it to be a _dark_ Room; in which she lay upon the _Boards_; in which there was nothing except _a Grate_ with a Gown in it; and a _few Pictures_ over the Chimney; from which she made her Escape by _forcing down some Boards_, and out of which she had before discovered the Face of a Coachman, through certain _Cracks_ in the Side.

Let those who have seen the Room speak whether this was a Description of it. They will answer No. No, not in any one Particular. Far from being _dark_, there are _two Windows_ in it. These have Casements which were unfastened, out at which she might have _escaped_, had she been confined in it; so that pulling down of Boards to that Purpose could not be necessary: Out at these also, I suppose, the might have _seen this Coachman_, so that she needed not to peep through Cracks. There was no Grate in the Chimney: so that no body could have been guilty of this most housewifely Trick of putting a Gown in one: Nor were there any Pictures over it. Of the latter there was no Probability to be any, because the House had no Profusion of Furniture, and this was a Room of Lumber: And it is palpable there could have been no Grate in the Chimney of a long Time; for the whole Expanse of it was found covered and overspread with Cobwebs, the Work of many Generations of unmolested Spiders. Oh Providence that assists in these Discoveries!

But though there was not what she said she saw in the Chimney, there was about it, Sir, that which she must have seen, had she been there, and which, had she been there twenty-eight Days, she must have seen often enough to have remembered it; there was a Casement, put up over the Chimney to be out of the Way: and this not newly laid there, for it was also fixed to the Wall by Cobwebs of long Standing.

If this were all, Sir, is not this enough to prove she never was in the Place? But this is little to the rest. There was a Quantity of Hay, near half a Load, there: Surely too large a Matter to have been overlooked, and too important to have been forgotten: And there were a multitude of Things besides; some if not all of which she must have remembered; but not any one of all which she mentioned.

Some who went first down, Neighbours and Men of Credit, who went to countenance and to support her, had heard her Account of the Room, and when they saw it, were convinced that her Description did not at all belong to it: they gave her up, and they are to be found to say so. Some who were too officious, eager to have the Story true, because themselves believed it, got there before her also; these, when they had heard the Objections, rode back Part of the Way to meet her, and after some Conversation with her; after, for, if I may have Leave to conjecture from the Circumstance, that is the least that can be supposed, asking her if there was not Hay there; that is, in Effect, after telling her there was, and that she should have said so; rode back, and, with _Huzza's_ of Triumph, cried they were all right yet; for she said now there was Hay in the Room. Was this or could it be an Evidence of Weight with the Impartial? The best Way to determine is to ask one's self the Question. What would it have been to you who are now reading of it?

But let me call up fairly the rest of your Arguments: You shall not say I deal partially with you, by omitting any that seem to yourself of Importance; and you shall hear the World say, so much I'll answer for them, that they are one as important and as conclusive as the other.

You have supposed the Girl not _wicked_ enough to have devised such a Deceit: That, God and her own Heart alone can tell; and neither you nor I have Right to judge of it. But you add, and this we both may judge of, That you do not suppose her _witty_ enough to have invented the Story. I give you Joy, Sir, of your own Wit, for thinking so! I am very far from entertaining an high Opinion of the Girl's Intellects; but such as they are, I think the Story tallies with them: none but a Fool could have devised so bad a one.

You say 'tis worthy of some Writer of Romances. I love to hear Men talk in Character: no one knows better how much Wit is necessary to the writing of such Books; and, to do Justice to your last Performance, no Man has proved more fully, with how small a Share of it, they may be written.

But I shall follow you through some more of these your supposed Improbabilities; and shew you they are all as probable as these. That she should fix upon a Place _so far from home_, is one of them. That may have been the very Reason why she fixed upon it: To me it would have seemed much more strange, if she had fixed on one that was nearer. The farther off, the farther from Detection.

That Mrs. _Wells_'s House should be particularly hit upon seems strange to you. But Mrs. _Wells_'s was a House of evil Fame, and there was no other such about the Neighbourhood: The Improbability must needs be, therefore, that of their fixing upon any other.

We are asked, How should she know this House, as she approached it? No body ever heard that she did know it, as she approached: And for the famous Question, How she could, among a Number of People, fix upon the _Gipsy_ whom she had particularly described before, as the Person that had robbed her? The Answer is a very fatal and severe one; it is that she _had not particularly described her before_. It is palpable she never spoke of her even as a _Gipsy_, though no Woman ever possessed the Colour and the Character of that singular People so strongly: Nor had she given any particular Account of her Face; which, had she ever seen it before, must have been remembered; for it is like that of no human Creature. The lower Part of it affected most remarkably by the Evil: The under Lip of an enormous Thickness; and the Nose such as never before stood in a mortal Countenance.

But these are Trifles: You'll give me up all these: I know you will; for you'll do every Thing you must. You'll give all this and laugh at the Advantage. The Strength is yet behind: These are the Outworks; but I shall overthrow your Citadel. This Evidence of _Hall_, you have reserved to the End; and I have reserved it too. Let us now state it fairly. I'll give it all the Strength you can desire; and when I have done so, I will shew you, but that's unnecessary; I'll explain to the World, how all its false Strength was derived to it. Let us here take it in the whole.

The Account of the Transaction, with respect to the Robbery, you argue must be true, because _Canning_ and _Hall_ relate it both alike. But all Men see how weak an Argument that is. I will not suppose Mr. _Fielding_ can be guilty of designing to impose upon the World in this or any Part of the Case which he has published; and therefore I will call it only a weak Argument. Let us consider the Circumstances under which these Accounts were procured, and we shall see they could not be otherwise than perfectly alike, even tho' they both were false.

We, who suppose the Convict innocent, believe the Account of _Canning_ to be a concerted Plan, long laboured, and well inculcated. That she should not vary herself in the relating it, will not therefore be wonderful: And I shall allow you Council! for you are not here acting in any other Character; that if the Evidence _Hall_ had made a free and voluntary Confession, without Fear, and without Constraint, and this Confession had in all Points confirmed the Account of the other; and if she had before known nothing of her Story; there would have been all the Argument and all the Weight in it that you would have us grant.

But let me ask you, Sir, for none know better than you do, were these the Circumstances of that Confession? I need not ask you: Your Pamphlet contradicts it. She refused to confess any such thing, you tell us so yourself, throughout six Hours of strong Sollicitation, and she consented to do it at last: Why? She says, and you say the same, it was because she was else to be prosecuted as a Felon.

Let us suppose the Story as we think it: An innocent and an ignorant Creature saw Perjury strong against herself: She saw a Prison the immediate Consequence: She supposed the Oaths that prevailed against her Liberty, though innocent, might also prevail against her Life, though innocent; and, to save herself from the Effects of this Perjury, she submitted to support the Charge it made against others: Against those whom she supposed condemned without her Crime, and whom she thought too certain of Destruction to be injured by any thing she added.

That this was the Case, her own Account, that of the World, and even yours, concur to prove; nay, and the very Consequences prove it. If she had sworn the Truth at this Time, is it, or can it be supposed, that, unawed and untempted (for I had no Authority, and the Lord Mayor has Testimony that he used none with her) is it to be supposed that she would have gone back from it to Falshood? and that she would have done this at a Time when it might have been destructive to herself; and when it could only tend to let loose upon her those whom she had injured, and those whom she always affected at least to fear? Certainly she would not. There could be in Nature no Motive to her doing it; and the most irrational do not act without some Impulse.

But let us ask the Question on the other Part! We shall then find it answered easily. Let us suppose we see, for 'tis most certain we do see such a one, a Person who had been awed by her Ignorance, and Fears, into swearing a Falshood; after having first voluntarily declared, in the same Case, that which was the Truth: we see her conscious that, by that Oath, she had procured the Sentence of Death against a Person whom she knew to be innocent; and we shall not wonder at the Consequence. Who is there lives, so abandoned, that he can say he never felt a Pang of Conscience? The Ideot, the Atheist would in vain attempt to persuade Men of it. Suppose what she had thus sworn to be false, as there are now a Multiplicity of Proofs that it all was false, what are we to imagine must be the Consequences? Unquestionably, Terror, Anguish, and Remorse; Wishes to speak, and Eagerness to do it. Where is the Wonder then that she should snatch at the first Opportunity; that she should be persuaded to do it, even by the most Uneloquent! Where the Wonder that she should thus go back into that Truth which she had late denied; and when she had confessed the Perjury, declare and testify, for she did much more than declare it, her Heart at Ease from that which had been a Burden and a Distress intolerable and insupportable.

This she declares to be the Fact; and what can be more natural? There is as much Face of Truth in her Recantation seen in this Light, as there would be Absurdity if it were looked upon in another.

But their Informations, you repeat, are so alike! Sir, I must tell you, they are too like: why do not you also see it? Indeed the Term _like_ is improper; they are not like, for they are in Effect the same: And farther, which is an Observation that must sting somewhere, though these their Informations are thus like, their Evidence upon the Tryal was not so. That we may know whether these could be so like without having a common Truth for their Foundation, let us examine into the Circumstances.

Had _Virtue Hall_ ever heard the Story of _Canning_ before she gave this Information? For if she had, allowing it all to be false, she would assuredly make it like hers, by repeating the same Circumstances. Let us enquire then, whether she had ever heard the Story? Yes, she had heard it many times. It appears by her Account, and by the Concurrence of all other Testimonies, that she had heard it from _Canning_'s own Mouth at _Enfield_ on the 1st of _February_; on the same Day also she says she heard it, and undoubtedly she did, at Mr. _Tyshmaker_'s: For, eight Days after this, the Story of this _Canning_, as herself had repeated it now twice in the Hearing of this _Hall_, was published in the News-Papers, to raise Subscriptions. _Hall_ can read; or, if she could not, she had Ears, and she must have heard this from all who came to her.

Now let us see when 'twas she gave this weighty Information. 'Twas after all this Opportunity of knowing what it was _Canning_ said; 'twas on the fourteenth of _February_, and not before, that she was examined by Mr. _Fielding_. There, as himself informs us, she was under Examination from six to twelve at Night, and then, after many hard Struggles and stout Denials, such are his own Words, she did, what? why she put her Mark to an Information; and swore what it contained was true. What it contained was the same that contained which had before been sworn by _Canning_. The same Person drew both; and that not the Magistrate, no, nor his Clerk: Who then?—why the Attorney who was engaged to manage the Prosecution.

Now, Syllogist, where is your Argument! Can two Persons who swear the same thing agree in all Particulars, and yet that thing be false? Yes certainly, if one has heard the other's Story. As certainly if the same Hand drew up both the Informations, and both that swear are perjured. This is the true State of the Question: You beg too much, as you have put it.

But let us see how these, who agreed so well in the written Informations, agreed in verbal Evidence. We shall find they did not coincide in that; and we shall find a Court of Justice is not satisfied with a few Questions.

Let those who would know this examine the printed Tryal. They will, in that, find _Canning_ swearing that no body came into the Room all the time she was there, and that she found the Pitcher there: And they will find _Hall_ swearing that the Pitcher was put into the Room three Hours afterward by the Gipsy. They will find tho' both agree in the Fact, yet a Difference in the Circumstances even of the Robbery: _Canning_ swears the two Men took her Stays and went out, while she was yet below; but _Hall_ swears this was done after she was put up into the Room.

These things, and things like these, I doubt not influenced that worthy Magistrate first to suspect the Truth, who has now proved the Falsity of both their Evidences. These things were not hidden, Sir, from you: How was it that you overlooked them when you wrote this Pamphlet? All I have urged you know; and knew before. You will find it will convince the World, why did it not take that Effect on you? Are you convinced now that you see it here? Speak freely; and answer to the World this one plain Question, Was it your Head, or what was it that played you false before?

None will wonder, Sir, that Informations thus taken, and under these Circumstances, should agree in all things, even though both were false; nor was it possible for the Jury, on hearing the Evidence of both agreeing in general with these Informations, to do other than find the Accused guilty. None wondered at it, nor will wonder: None were ever weak enough, or wicked enough, to reflect upon them. But although they saw nothing to contradict the Truth of all this Swearing, you did, and you acknowledge it: You acknowledge there came before you something to contradict it, and it deserved its Weight.

_Canning_'s Story appeared improbable; all rested upon the Evidence of _Hall_: And there was given to you, against that Evidence, the Oath of _Judith Natus_, one not belonging to the Gipsies, and whom you have not any Reason to apprehend belonging to them; an honest Woman, Wife of an honest Labourer, who, with her Husband, lay in the very Room, in which the Girl pretended to have been confined, during the whole time of that alledged Confinement. Here was the Evidence of a Person of honest Character, and quite disinterested, against that of _Virtue Hall_, confessed of bad Character, and deeply interested. This Oath, Sir, you will find was Truth: It will be seen: It will be proved that it was so, by Evidence the most incontestible. In the mean time, let me, in the Name of Virtue and Impartiality, ask the whole World whether this free Oath of an unconcerned Person, or the hardly-obtained Information of one who was interested, and had the Alternative only of that Information or a Prison, deserves the most Respect?

You ask, Sir, why this Woman, and with her this Husband, were not produced upon the Tryal? You tell us you can give but one Answer to this, and that you conceal, Sir, I can give another, and it shall stand openly. The Reason is a plain, and 'tis a dreadful one. They were subpœna'd, and they were ready at the Court; but the Mob without-doors had been so exasperated against all that should appear on the Part of the Accused, that they were prevented from getting in, and treated themselves like Criminals.

This is now known, notoriously and generally known; nor is the Cause a Secret. The Public were prejudiced in the most unfair Manner: nor the Public only. Printed Papers were handed about the Court at the time of the Tryal, calculated to enflame every body against the Accused; even those on whose Impartiality the public Justice was to depend. I do not suppose they took such Effect; but that this was the Design is plain. It was an Insolence unprecedented, and surely will never be again attempted.

If Means like these were used within-doors, we cannot doubt enough were employed without; nor wonder that those who could have proved the Innocence of the Accused were insulted, terrified, and driven away. 'Tis easy to know what must be the Fate of the Guiltless, when only those are to appear who accuse them.

Such is the State, and the exact State, of that Case, into which a Suspicion of Misinformation at first, a Confession of Perjury afterwards, and accumulated Proofs in Support of that Confession, have engaged the Lord Mayor of the City of _London_ to enquire certainly in a virtuous and laudable Manner, even after the Tryal. The Enquiry has answered all his Lordship's Expectations; the Evidence is clear, and the Proof is full. But for this his impartial Enquiry, made for the sake of Justice only, he is attacked by Calumny and private Prejudice: The envious Hint he must be interested in it; while others, whose Honour is as far beneath his, as their Abilities are inferior, wish the Convict guilty, that he may sink into an Equality. That Magistrate is too well informed of the Respect due to his Sovereign, not to lay all the Evidences first before him; afterwards the whole World will see them: And it is on Certainty and Knowledge I speak, who now tell them, that, when they do see them, they will be convinced at full.

In the mean time, it is not necessary that others should be blamed. Those who are of the contrary Opinion maintain it, because they are ignorant what are the Proofs on which the Innocence of the Convict is supported. Every Magistrate who has enquired into the Story has a Right to Praise from the World for that Enquiry: he has a Right to this, and in Proportion, not to the Success, for that was not in his Hands, but to the Pains which he has taken, and the Impartiality by which he has been governed, in the Endeavour.

Those who set on foot the Contribution, engaged in it beyond a Doubt as an Act of Justice and of Virtue; it is most certain that they have had no other Motive: that they have been imposed on is as certain; but for that others must be answerable. If it were Justice to establish the Subscription, all was Charity and Benevolence in those who encouraged and promoted it; nor is their Generosity, the Motive to which is so palpable and so noble, at all affected by the ill Use to which it might have been applied.

But while these all stand not only excused but applauded, there certainly is one to whom that Tribute is due in a superior Degree; and it shall never be my Crime to mention the Transaction, and omit to pay it. While I see the Lord Mayor in this just and honourable Light, it gives me Pain to find those who are, in all Senses of the Word so vastly his Inferiors, and you, Sir! most of all, placing themselves as it were on an Equality with him: and when I consider, for I know it is so, that his Lordship has, from no other Principle but Humanity and a Love of Justice, undertaken one of the most arduous Tasks that could have been imposed on Man; and this at his own private Expence, and by his own Labour and inconceivable Trouble: when I see him compleating what so good a Heart had designed, by a Discernment equal to his Candour, I own, and, as I am a Stranger and disinterested, I glory in owning it, I see, with all that Indignation which Honesty conceives at the low Cunning of the Base and Wicked, Insinuations, for there are such Insinuations spread, that _foul_ and _unjustifiable_ Practices have been used since the Tryal. You, Mr. _Fielding_, among others, say this: But I must tell those who invent, and those who can give Credit to it, that the Discernment of this honourable Magistrate is as much above being imposed on by such Artifices, as his Honour would be above encouraging them.