The Overland Monthly/Volume 5/Confession of Crime

CONFESSION OF CRIME—ITS VALUE.

IN 1812 there resided in Manchester, Vermont, Barney Boorn, an old man, Stephen and Jesse, his two sons, and Sarah, his only daughter, who was the wife of Russell Colvin. They were poor, ignorant, and in bad reputation for honesty. Colvin was half-witted and half-crazy. Two miserable hovels adjoining each other, and a few acres of pinebarrens, constituted all their possessions. They raised a few potatoes and garden vegetables, but eked out their scant livelihood by days'-work for the neighboring farmers.

In May, 1812, Russell Colvin was missing. This, however, occasioned but little surprise. He had always been of uncertain habits, was incompetent to manage his family, moved about in an idle, wandering way, and was frequently absent from home for days together. As weeks grew into months, inquiries began to be made in town about the absent man. There are no tongues for gossip like those that wag in a Yankee village. The excitement grew. Like contagion, the wonder spread. Neighboring townships caught the infection; and rumors passed from lip to lip until suspicion, like a hungry leech, fastened upon the Boorns. It was known that there had long existed a feud between them and Colvin; it was in proof, that the last time the missing man was seen, he was at work with the Boorns clearing stones from a field, and that a dispute was going on between them; and Lewis Colvin, the son of Russell, had stated that his father struck his uncle Stephen, the latter returned the blow, and that then he, the boy, being frightened, ran away. A Mr. Baldwin had heard Stephen Boorn say, in answer to the inquiry as to where Colvin was, that he had "gone to h——;" and his wife had heard Jesse Boorn declare that "Colvin had gone where potatoes would not freeze." For seven years, every house in Bennington County was haunted with the ghost of Colvin. There was no proof of the guilt of the Boorns, but every body believed it. A button and jackknife were found, which Mrs. Colvin believed had belonged to her husband. Dreams, thrice repeated, had led to unsuccessful searches for Colvin's body. A thousand stories, with no shadow of truthful fabric, were in circulation. Every body treated the Boorns as guilty; and it is a marvel how they escaped being lynched without trial. In such miserable society as remained to them, with the mark of Cain upon their brows, ostracized even from the kitchens of their well-to-do neighbors, more fiercely struggling, year after year, with beggary that bordered on starvation, exposed to constant, unsparing allusions and vulgar interrogatories, it is no wonder that they said rash things, and returned unflinching replies.

Five years after the missing of Colvin, Stephen Boorn removed to Denmark, New York, and there married; Jesse remained at home. There had been no appearance of concealment on their part, during all this time. Stephen had gone away openly, and it was well known where he was. Neither of the wretched men, upon any occasion, had ever attempted flight.

Seven years had elapsed, when a discovery was made which seemed to confirm the worst suspicions. A lad, walking near the Boorns' hovel, was attracted by the barking of a dog at the stump of a large tree. Coming up, he examined

the stump, found it hollow, and, upon search, discovered the cavity to be partly filled with bones. The tidings ran. Murder will find a tongue: Manchester found thousands. The village was on fire. Young men and maidens, old men and children, came forth to gaze upon the bones of the murdered Colvin, and to praise the Lord for this providential discovery. It was suggested, indeed, that they were not human bones. A medical man pronounced positively against them. Wanting a skeleton, the faculty supplied its place by digging up the leg of Mr. Salisbury, which had been amputated and buried four years before, and, upon comparing its bones with the alleged remains of Colvin, it was universally determined that the latter were not human. It did no good. The doctors were in conspiracy. Their scruples were out of place. "Two finger - nails among the remains had been identified as human." This gave universal satisfaction. The bones were the bones of Colvin; and Jesse Boorn was instantly taken into custody.

The examination took place in the meeting-house, Tuesday, May 27, 1819, and continued until the following Saturday. All the testimony, when sifted, was found worthless. The bones were, beyond question, not human. Nothing, by forced construction, could be racked out of the prisoner's words, into the semblance even of a confession of guilt; and Jesse was about being released, when Truman Hill came forward, with the following statement, made under oath:

"When the knife was presented by me to Jesse Boorn, and also when the hat was presented to him, his feelings were such as to oblige him to take hold of the pew to steady himself. He appeared to be much agitated. I asked him what was the matter. He answered, there was matter enough. I asked him to state. He said he feared Stephen had killed Colvin; that he never believed so

till the spring or winter, when he went into a shop where were Stephen and another, at which time he gained a knowledge of the manner of Colvin's death; and that he thought he knew, within a few rods, where Colvin was buried."

This statement altered the phase of the affair, as it was censidered tantamount to a confession. The tide of public sentiment was turned, and Jesse Boorn was remanded back to prison. Here the jailer tormented him with questions. The jailer's wife experimented upon the poor man's fears with womanly adroitness. Neighbors were let in. The parson, and 'Squire, and Lady Bountiful of each neighboring village were accorded admission to Jesse's cell. Children came to take warning from example, and young girls whispered and wept as they stared at the prisoner through the grated door. There seems to have been no limit to the poor man's inquisition. Ministers prayed with him; pious, earnest Christian folks sent him appropriate tracts; and godly housewives, desirous of saving the soul while they ministered to the body, secreted searching texts of Scripture in the frosting of the cakes they baked for him, or the crust of the pies. What wonder that the poor creature confessed, or was alleged by his fellow-prisoner to have confessed his guilt, when, in addition to this pious persecution, he was asked why he did not turn State's evidence—was told that nobody doubted that Stephen killed Colvin— and was assured again and again that it would be better for him to confess the whole?

In June, old Boorn visited his sons in jail. They were confined in separate cells. Under a requisition from the Governor, Stephen had been arrested, dragged from his home in Denmark, New York, manacled, brought back to Manchester, and imprisoned. The brothers had not met. After his father left, Jesse appeared afflicted. Having gone to bed

shortly afterward, he fell asleep; but was awakened in a fright, roused a fellowprisoner, said he had seen a vision, and proceeded to make an oral confession, which will shortly be given.

Sept. 3d, 1819, the Grand Jury found a bill of indictment against Stephen and Jesse Boorn, for the murder of Russell Colvin on May roth, 1812—charging the former as principal, and the latter as accessory.

The facts proved upon the trial, and duly certified to by Judge Dudley Chace to the General Assembly, Nov. 11th, 1819, are as follows:

I. Before the time of the alleged murder Stephen had said that Coivin was a burden to the family—that he would prevent this multiplication of children for his old father to support—that he wished Russell and Sal were both dead, and that he would kick them into h—— if he burnt his legs off.

II. Four years after the alleged murder Stephen said that Colvin went off strangely; that the last he saw of him (Colvin) he was going toward the woods; that Lewis Colvin, returning with some rum, asked for his father, and that Stephen replied "he had gone to h——;" to which Jesse added that they "had put him where potatoes would not freeze."

III. Lewis Colvin, now seventeen, testified that seven years before, on a day when his father, his two uncles, (the prisoners) and himself were at work in a field, a quarrel arose, and Colvin struck Stephen; that Stephen then returned the blow with a club, felling Colvin; that the latter rose and again struck Stephen, who thereupon again felled Colvin to the ground, and that he (Lewis) being frightened, then ran away. He was afterward told by Stephen that he (Stephen) would kill him if he ever told what had happened.

IV. About four years after Colvin's disappearance an old, moldy hat was discovered where the quarrel had taken

place; and this hat was identified as Colvin's.

V. Silas Merrill, a prisoner, in jail on a charge of perjury, testified "that when Jesse returned to prison, after his examination, he told Merrill that he had been encouraged to confess; that the following night, Jesse awoke frightened; said he had had a horrible dream, and made the following disclosure, viz.: that the second time Stephen felled Colvin he broke his skull; that Stephen's father came up and asked if Colvin were dead; that he repeated the question three times; that all three of them carried Colvin— not then dead—to an old cellar, where the old man cut Colvin's throat with a penknife; that they buried him in a cellar; and that, when Stephen proposed to put on Colvin's shoes, Jesse told him it would lead to a discovery." Merrill further swore that when Stephen came first into jail, Merrill told him Jesse had confessed, and that Stephen replied, "T did not take the main life of Colvin."

VI. Stephen Boorn's written confession, being shown to have been made under fear of death and hope of pardon, was excluded.

VII. William Farnsworth was then produced, to prove an oral confession of Stephen; and, though objected to on the same ground, was permitted to proceed. The written confession was excluded because it was shown to have been induced by fear and hope. The oral statement, made ¢wo weeks afterward to a William Farnsworth, was, to the mockery of all justice, nevertheless received. Mr. Farnsworth testified that, about a fortnight after the date of the written confession, Stephen confessed that he killed Russell Colvin, hid him in the bushes, buried the body, dug it up, buried it again under a barn that was subsequently burned, threw the unburnt bones into the river, scraped up some few remains and hid them in a stump; and that the finger-nails alleged to have

been found he knew to be those of Russell Colvin.

Upon this evidence, after an hour's absence, the jury returned a verdict of guilty against both prisoners, and they were sentenced to be hung on January 28th, 1820.

From this period, both Stephen and Jesse constantly asserted their innocence. They said they had confessed as their last hcpe. Compassion began t» be felt for their fate. Doubts of the justice of their sentence were suggested. A petition for their pardon was presented to the General Court. The evidence was reviewed. Strong appeals for pardon were made. But beyond the commutation of Jesse's sentence to imprisonment for life, nothing was obtained. Ninety-seven noes to forty-two ayes left Stephen to the fate of a malefactor.

On the 26th of November, 1819, the following notice appeared in the Rutland Herald:

"Murder! Printers of newspapers throughout the United States are desired to publish that Stephen Boorn, of Manchester, in Vermont, is sentenced to be executed for the murder of Russell Colvin, who has been absent about seven years. Any person who can give information of said Colvin, may save the life of the innocent by making immediate communication. Colvin is about five feet five inches high, light complexion, light hair, blue eyes, and about forty years old. Manchester, Vt., Nov. 26, 1819."

Let the reader now turn to another chapter of this strange history.

In April, 1813, there lived in Dover, Monmouth County, N. J., a Mr. James Polhamus, a farmer in moderate circumstances, better known for charitable deeds than hard bargains. During that month a wayfarer, begging food, stopped athis door. His hunger being appeased, he asked leave to stay all night, which was granted. The next morning, with out request, he turned into the field with the farm-hands, and held the plow. Being shifty at work, good-natured, ready to help the women- folk, quiet and obedient, apparently homeless, poor and weak in intellect, Mr. Polhamus encouraged him to stay. Here the poor vagrant had lived for seven years, and had been called by the name he had given, Russell Colvin.

Not far from Dover lies the town of Shrewsbury, a quiet hamlet, now invaded by cottages and villas of Long Branch pleasure-seekers, but at that time scarcely known out of its county. In Shrewsbury lived Taber Chadwick, brother-in-law of Polhamus, and intimate in his family. Accidentally reading, one day, the New York Evening Post, he met, not with the notice of the Rutland Hera/d, but with an account of the trial of the Boorns. Convinced that the Russell Colvin, alleged to have been murdered, was the very man then living with Mr. Polhamus, he wrote the following letter, which two days afterward appeared in the same newspaper:

" Surewssury, Monmouth Co., N. J., December 6, 1819.

"To the Editor of the New York Evening Post:

Sir—Having read in your paper of November 26th, last, of the conviction and sentence of Stephen and Jesse Boorn, of Manchester, Vt., charged with the murder of Russell Colvin, and from facts which have fallen within my own knowledge, and not knowing what facts may have been disclosed on their trial, and wishing to serve the cause of humanity, I would state as follows, which may be relied on: Some years past, (I think between five and ten) a stranger made his appearance in this county; and, upon being inquired of, said his name was Russell Colvin, (which name he answers to at this time) and that he came from Manchester, Vt. He appeared to be in a state of mental derangement, but at times gave considerable account of himself. Among his relations, he mentions the Boorns. He is aman rather small instature, round-favored, speaks fast, and has scars on his head. He appears to be between thirty-five and forty years of age. There is no doubt that he came from Vermont. If you think proper to give this a place in your columns, it may save the lives of innocent men.

"Taner CHADWICK."

Upon the arrival of the Evening Post

containing this letter, little commotion

It was be lieved to be a fraud. The best people of Bennington County had long believed the Boorns to be guilty. An upright Judge had made solemn charge that evidence of the crime had been conclusive against the prisoners. An intelligent jury had found them guilty. The General Court of the State, sitting to review appeals, had sanctioned the finding. There did not exist a doubt, and therefore no benefit of a doubt had been given by counsel or jury, Chief- Justice or Supreme Court.

Mr. Chadwick's letter was, nevertheless, taken to the cell. The Rev. Lemuel Haynes, who was present, says: "The news was so overwhelming that, to use his own language, 'nature could scarcely sustain the shock;' but, as there was some doubt as to the truth of the report, it tended to prevent immediate dissolution. But he was very faint, and had to be recovered by dashes of cold water."

Soon intelligence came from a Mr. Whelpley, of New York, formerly of Manchester, that he had himself been to New Jersey, and seen Russell Colvin alive. Doubts begantodisappear. Mr. Whelpley's word was undoubted. He had known Colvin from boyhood. No man was less likely to be the victim of an imposition. Members of the jury, however, hesitated to accept any thing short of Russell Colvin's presence, and Judge Chace pointed to Stephen Boorn's confession.

The next day another letter was received, in which Mr. Whelpley wrote, "T have Russell Colvin with me." This was accompanied by a sworn statement from John Rempton, who also was a native of Manchester, saying, "I personally know Russell Colvin, and he is now before me." The New York newspapers told and retold the story. Affidavits were filed by Mr. Polhamus. These were fortified by affidavits of neighbors.

was excited in Manchester.

All would not do in Manchester. Pride of opinion is stubborn. Doubt dies hard. Even bets were taken at considerable odds that the coming man was not the Simon-Pure Russell Colvin.

However, Colvin or Colvin's double, the lion was on his way. He passed through Poughkeepsie, where the streets were thronged tosee him. The wonder grew as he advanced. His story was told at every fireside. At Hudson a cannon was fired from the wharf; in Albany was erected a high platform, whence he could be seen by the people; and all over Troy, as he entered the town, bands of music were playing and flags flaunting from housetops and steeples. Some men become famous from being murdered. Russell Colvin became famous because he was not.

Toward evening of December 22, 1819, the snow covering the ground, the cold severest of the season, a double sleigh, before which a pair of horses were driven furiously, passed down the street of Manchester. The occupants were Whelpley and Rempton, Polhamus and Taber Chadwick, and, not the least object of interest, bewildered Russell Colvin. "Itishe! It1s Russell Colvin!" shouted the crowd, when the frightened man had been conducted from the sleigh to the piazza of the tavern. There was no doubt of it. He knew the minister, recognized and embraced his children, called his old neighbors by name, and started by himself for the jail. His wife he would not suffer to approach him. Perhaps he had been told that she had not waited for his coming with the fidelityof Penelope. But in every other way in which identity could be established, the poor, demented creature, who had been brought back from New Jersey, proved himself to be Russell Colvin.

Mr. Haynes describes the meeting at the jail: 'The prison door was unbolted and the news proclaimed to Stephen that Colvin had come. He was intro duced. Colvin gazed upon the chains, and asked, ' What is that for?' Stephen answered, 'Because they say I murdered you.' 'You never hurt me,' replied Colvin."

The sequel is quickly told. The chains of Stephen Boorn were stricken off, and he became a free man. Jesse Boorn was liberated from prison. Russell Colvin returned to his friend, Mr. Polhamus, in New Jersey. But Judge Chace, who suffered an innocent man to be convicted of murder by the admission of extrajudicial confessions —the jury who deliberated but one hour before uttering a verdict of guilty upon evidence that should not hang a dog—the deacons, church-members, pious women, and dolorous devotees who were preaching repentance and urging confession of a crime upon a man innocent as themselves —and the ninety-seven members of the Legislature, sitting as a Court of Appeals, who refused rehearing of evidence and reversal of sentence upon grounds that would have disgraced the Westminster Hall decisions in the reign of the second James—what became of them?

Lord Mansfield laid down the rule of confessions as follows: "A free and voluntary confession is deserving of the highest credit, because it is presumed to flow from the strongest sense of guilt, and therefore it is admitted as proof of the crime to which it refers; but a confession forced from the mind by the flattery of hope or the torture of fear comes in so questionable a shape when it is to be considered the evidence of guilt that no credit ought to be given to it."

Apply this rule to the confession forced by what a Vermont Calvinistic preacher called "Hell's terrors on the naked conscience" out of Jesse Boorn. Apply it to that wheedled out of Stephen Boorn. Apply it to the confessions of witchcraft made in the seventeenth century by respectable citizens of Massachusetts, as given by Cotton Mather in the "Magnolia;" to those extorted by the rack and thumb-screw in the days of Queen Mary; to the hideously inconsistent statements of the victims of auto da fé, and to the scared utterances of personal guilt, mingled with petitions for mercy, of the miserable victims of Lynch Law!