No. LXXIX.
Nothing can be more entirely unfounded, than the popular notion, that circumstantial evidence is an inferior quality of proof. The most able writers, on the law of evidence, have always maintained the contrary.
Sir William Blackstone and Sir Matthew Hale, it is true, have expressed the very just and humane opinion, that circumstantial evidence should be weighed with extreme caution; and the latter has expressly said, that, in trials, for murder and manslaughter, no conviction ought ever to be had, until the fact is clearly proven, or the body of the person, alleged to have been killed, has been discovered; for he stated, that two instances had occurred, within his own knowledge, in which, after the execution of the accused, the persons, supposed to have been murdered, had reäppeared alive.
Probably, one of the most extraordinary cases of fatal confidence in circumstantial evidence, recorded, in the history of British, criminal jurisprudence, is that, commonly referred to, as the case of “Hayes and Bradford.” In that case, a murder was certainly committed; the body of the murdered man was readily found; the murderer escaped; and, after many years, confessed the crime, in a dying hour; and another person, who had designed to commit the murder, but found his intended victim, already slain, was arrested, as the murderer; and, after an elaborate trial, suffered for the crime, upon the gallows.
There is a case in the criminal jurisprudence of our own country, in all its strange particulars, far surpassing the British example, to which I have referred; and attended by circumstances, almost incredible, were the evidence and vouchers less respectable, than they are. I refer to the case of Stephen and Jesse Boorn, who were tried, for the murder of Russell Colvin, and convicted, before the Supreme Judicial Court of the State of Vermont, in October, 1819. In this remarkable case, it must be observed, that the Judges appeared to have acted, in utter disregard of that merciful caution of Sir Matthew Hale, to which I have alluded; and that these miserable men were rescued, from their impending fate, in a most remarkable manner.
It is my purpose to present a clear and faithful account of this occurrence; and, to enable the reader to go along with me, step by step, with perfect confidence, in a matter, in which, from the marvellous character of the circumstances, to doubt would be extremely natural, I will first exhibit the sources, from which the elements of this narrative are drawn. I. The public journals of the day, published in Vermont. II. “Mystery developed, &c., by the Rev. Lemuel Haynes, Hartford, 1820.” III. A sermon, on the occasion, by the same. IV. “A brief sketch of the Indictment, Trial, and Conviction of Stephen and Jesse Boorn, for the murder of Russell Colvin, by S. Putnam Waldo, Hartford.” V. “A Collection of remarkable events, by Leonard Deming. Middlebury, 1825.” VI. “Journals of the General Assembly of the State of Vermont, for 1819, October session,” in which, page 185, may be found the minutes of the testimony, taken on the trial, and certified up, by Judge Chace, to the Legislature, by request, on petition, for a commutation of punishment. VII. Law Reporter, published in Boston, vol. v. page 193. VIII. Trial of Stephen and Jesse Boorn, Rutland, 1820. IX. Remarks thereon, N. A. Review, vol. x. page 418. X. Greenleaf’s Treatise on Evidence, vol. i. page 320, note 2. XI. Cooley’s Memoir of Rev. Lemuel Haynes, N. Y., 1839.
In the village of Manchester, Bennington County, and State of Vermont, there resided in 1812, an old man, whose name was Barney Boorn, who had two sons, Stephen and Jesse, and a daughter Sarah, who had married Russell Colvin. Like the conies of the Bible, these people were a feeble folk—their mental powers were slender—they grew up in ignorance—their lot was poverty. Colvin, in particular, was, notoriously, an imbecile. He had been, for a long period, partially deranged. He was incompetent to manage the concerns of his family. He moved about in an idle, wandering way, and was perfectly inoffensive; and the wilful destruction of such a man would have been the murder of an innocent.
In May, 1812, Russell Colvin was missing from home. This, in consideration of his uncertain habits, occasioned, at first, but little surprise. But his continued absence, for days, and weeks, and months, produced very considerable excitement, in the village of Manchester. This excitement naturally increased, with the term of his absence; and the contagion began, ere long, to catch upon the neighboring towns; until the most exciting topic of the day, throughout that portion of the Hampshire Grants, in the absence of mad dogs and revivals, was the mysterious disappearance of Russell Colvin.
Rumors began to spread, from lip to lip. Suspicion, like a hungry leech—“a German one”—fastened upon the Boorns. Nor was this suspicion groundless. Thomas Johnson, a neighbor of all the parties, a credible witness, who swore to the facts, seven years after, on the trial, reported, that the last time he saw Russell Colvin was immediately before his remarkable disappearance, and that he and the Boorns were then quarrelling, while engaged in picking up stones.
Lewis Colvin, the son of Russell, with manifest reluctance, stated, that, just before his father’s disappearance, a quarrel took place, between his father and Stephen—that his father struck Stephen first—that Stephen then knocked his father down twice with a club—that he, the boy, was frightened and ran away—that Stephen told him never to mention what had happened—and that he had never seen his father since.
Here, doubtless, was legitimate ground, for suspicion, and the village of Manchester, on the Battenkill, was in a state of universal fermentation—the very atmosphere seemed redolent of murder. It is marvellous, in what manner the Boorns escaped from being lynched, without trial; and, more especially, how Stephen was preserved, from the fate of his namesake, the martyr. A shortlived calm followed this tempest of popular feeling—parties were formed—some were sure the Boorns were the murderers of Colvin—some were inclined to believe they were not. The Boorns continued to dwell in the village, without any effort to escape; and the evidence against them was not deemed legally sufficient then, even to authorize their arrest.
It appeared, upon the statement of Mrs. Colvin, that Stephen and Jesse, her brothers, had told her, upon a certain occasion, that she might be satisfied her husband was dead, and that they knew it. This additional fact gave fresh impulse to the popular excitement.
In such miserable society, as may be supposed to have remained to these suspected men, it is not wonderful, that they should often have encountered the most unsparing allusions, and vulgar interrogatories—nor that they should have met this species of persecution, with equally vulgar and unflinching replies. It became well established, ere long, upon the declarations of a Mr. Baldwin and his wife, that, when asked where Colvin had gone, one of the Boorns replied, that he had “gone to hell”—and the other that he had “gone where potatoes would not freeze.”
It is not wonderful, that, upon such evidence, the daughters of Manchester should begin to prophecy, and the young men to see visions, and the old men to dream dreams. In the language of one, who has briefly described the condition of that village, during this period of intense excitement—“Every house was haunted with the ghost of Colvin.”
At length, a respectable man, a paternal uncle of the Boorns, began to dream, in good earnest. The ghost of Colvin appeared to him, and told him, upon his honor, that he had been murdered; and indicated the place, with unmistakable precision, where his body lay concealed. Like a bill, which cannot pass to enactment, until after a third reading, the declarations of a ghost are not entitled to the slightest regard, until after a third repetition. Every sensible ghost knows this, of course. The ghost of Colvin seems to have understood his business perfectly; and he manifested a very commendable delicacy, in selecting one of the family, for his confidant. Three times, in perfect conformity with acknowledged precedent, the ghost of Colvin announced the fact of his murder, and indicated the place, where his body was concealed.
To put a slight upon a respectable ghost, in perfectly good standing, who had taken all this trouble, was entirely out of the question. Accordingly, the uncle of the Boorns summoned his neighbors—announced these revelations—gathered a posse—proceeded to dig in the hole, so particularly indicated by the ghost—and, after digging to a great depth, succeeded completely, in discovering nothing of any human remains. Indeed he was as unsuccessful, as our worthy friend, the Warden of the Prison, in his recent search for hidden treasure—excepting, that it does not appear, that the ghost made the slightest effort to bury him alive.
This movement was productive, nevertheless, of additional testimony, against the Boorns. In the hole, were found a jack-knife and a button, both which Mrs. Colvin solemnly declared to have belonged to her husband.
In regard to the location of the body, the ghost was certainly mistaken; perhaps Mr. Boorn, the uncle, being dull of hearing, might have misunderstood the revelation; and perhaps the memory of the ghost was treacherous. Evidence, gathered up by piecemeal, was, nevertheless, gradually enveloping the fate of these miserable men—evidence of a much more substantial material, than dreams are made of.
Thomas Johnson, the witness, above referred to, having purchased the field, where the quarrel took place, between Colvin and the Boorns, the children of Johnson found, while playing there, an old mouldy hat; which Johnson asserted, at the time, and afterwards, at the trial, swore, positively, had belonged to Colvin.
Nearly seven years had passed, since the disappearance of Russell Colvin. Stephen Boorn had removed from Manchester, about five years after the supposed murder; and resided in Denmark, Lewis County, New York; at the distance of some two hundred miles. Jesse still continued in Manchester; and neither of these wretched men, upon any occasion, appears to have attempted flight, or concealment.
Stephen Boorn, who, as the sequel will abundantly show, seems not to have been entirely deficient, in natural affection, had discovered, after a bitter experience of five long years, that the burden of his sins was not more intolerable, than the oppressive consciousness of the tenure, by which he lived, and moved, and had his being; which tenure was no other, than that, by which Cain walked upon the earth, after the murder of Abel. Stephen Boorn gathered up the little, that he had, and went into a far country—not hastily, nor by night—but openly, and in the light of day.
Jesse, who was, evidently, the weaker brother—the poorer spirit—remained behind; deeming it easier, doubtless, to endure the continued suspicion and contempt of mankind, than to muster enough of energy, to rise and walk.
Well nigh seven years, as I have stated, had passed, since the disappearance of Colvin. A discovery was made, at this period, which left very little doubt, upon the minds of the good people of Manchester, that the Boorns were guilty of the murder of this unhappy man, and of attempting to conceal his remains, by cremation.