ANECDOTES.
Juries.
Levinz reports a case in the King’s Bench, “Foster v. Hawden,” “wherein the jury, not agreeing, cast lots for their verdict, and gave it according to lot; for which, upon the motion of Levinz, the verdict was set aside, and the jury were ordered to attend next term to be fined.”
On an appeal of murder, reported in Coke, the killing was not denied by the murderer, but he rested his defence upon a point of law, viz. that the deceased had provoked him, by mocking him; and he therefore contended that it was not murder. The judges severally delivered their opinions, that it was murder; but the jury could not agree. They however came to the following understanding—“That they should bring in, and offer their verdict not guilty; and if the court disliked thereof, that then they should all change their verdict, and find him guilty.” They brought in a verdict of Not Guilty. The court demurred, and sent them back; when, according to the above understanding, they returned again in a few minutes with a verdict of Guilty.
In 1752, Owen, a bookseller, was prosecuted by the attorney-general, on information, for a libel. The direction of the lord chief justice Lee to the jury does not appear at full length in the State Trials, but it seems that he “declared it as his opinion, that the jury ought to find the defendant guilty.” The jury brought in their verdict “Not Guilty.” The report proceeds to state, “that the jury went away; but at the desire of the attorney-general, they were called into court again, and asked this leading question: viz. “Gentlemen of the Jury, do you think the evidence laid before you, of Owen’s publishing the book by selling it, is not sufficient to convince you that the said Owen did sell this book.” Upon which the foreman, without answering the question, said, “Not guilty, not guilty;” and several of the jury said, “That is our verdict, my lord, and we abide by it.” Upon which the court broke up, and there was a prodigious shout in the hall.”
A Question—Mal-apropos.
When Dr. Beadon was rector of Eltham, in Kent, the text he one day took to preach from was, “Who art thou?” After reading it he made a pause, for the congregation to reflect on the words; when a gentleman, in a military dress, who at the instant was proceeding up the middle aisle of the church, supposing it a question addressed to him, replied, “I, sir, am an officer of the sixteenth regiment of foot, on a recruiting party here; and have come to church, because I wish to be acquainted with the neighbouring clergy and gentry.” This so deranged the divine and astonished the congregation, that the sermon was concluded with considerable difficulty.