I asked the accused if he would like the other men called to prove his statements, warning him at the same time that it was upon his own evidence that they had been arrested, and pointing out the risk he ran from their ill-will.
“My lord,” said he, “they will owe me no ill-will, and they will not deny what I say. It’s true; I’m one of ’em, and I know they won’t deny it.”
Without discarding this evidence I let the case proceed. I asked the policeman when he came into the witness-box if he examined carefully the footprints at the gate where the men entered. He said he had, and was quite positive that there were the footprints of four men only, and further, that these prints corresponded with the shoes of the four men who had been sentenced, and not with those of the prisoner.
It shows how fatal it may be in Judge, counsel, or jury to take anything for granted in a criminal charge. It had been taken for granted at the former trial that five men had entered the field, and how the counsel for the defence could have done so I am at a loss to conceive. It was further ascertained that the same number and the same footprints marked the steps of those coming out of the field. It went even further, for it was proved that no footprints of a fifth man were anywhere visible on any other part of the field, although the most careful search had been made.
If this was established, as I think it was beyond all controversy, it clearly proved that only four men were in the field when the injuries were inflicted. But it might, nevertheless, be that the young man identified was one of the four. Whether he was or not was now the question at issue; it was reduced to that one point. To disprove this the prisoner said he would like the men to be called. I cautioned him again as to the danger of the course he proposed, feeling that he was pretty safe as it was in the hands of the jury. They could hardly convict under my ruling in the circumstances.
“No, my lord,” he said; “I am sure they will speak the truth about it. They will not swear falsely against me to save themselves.”
The man who was alleged to have borrowed the cap was then brought up, and I asked him if it was true that he wore the prisoner’s cap on the night of the outrage. He said, “It is true, my lord; I borrowed it.”
“Then are you the man who inflicted the injury on the keeper?”
His answer was, “Unhappily, my lord, I am, and I am heartily sorry for it.”
When asked, “Was this young man with you that night?”
“No, my lord,” was the answer.
The jury at once said they would not trouble me to sum up the case; they were perfectly satisfied that the prisoner was not guilty, and that what he said was true—that he was not in the field that night. They accordingly acquitted him, to my perfect satisfaction.