The Providence Gazette/Volume 14/Number 710/Dr. Dodd's trial
London, Feb. 24.
On Saturday last came on Dr. Dodd’s trial, for forgery, at the old Bailey. He came to the bar, leaning on the arm of the Rev. Mr. Butler; pale, weak, and in an universal tremor, he excited the compassion of the whole court. Lord Chesterfield was present, and examined. The evidence was clear, and Mr. Justice Willes, in summing it up, made use of every merciful observation in his power. The jury withdrew, and in ten minutes returned. The verdict being demanded, Mr. Elliot, the foreman, was a few moments unable to speak; tears prevented his utterance; but he was obliged at length to pronounce the fatal word! The rest of the jury were equally distressed, and the wretched convict sunk down, until supported by his friends. At this awful melancholy period; while a thousand hearts bled, one infernal spirit, in the left hand gallery, rejoicing in human misery, clapt his impious hands! General indignation soon checked his inhuman joy, and the savage was obliged to depart, followed by the abuse of the whole assembly. In the evening the jury presented a petition recommending the doctor to the royal mercy; it was received with great satisfaction, and backed by the Aldermen Sir Charles Asgili, Woodbridge, Plomer, and Newnham, who all applauded their humanity.
May 10. Yesterday the Rev. Dr. Dodd was, by an order of court, conducted alone to the bar, to receive sentence of death, for the forgery of which he was convicted last session. The Rev. Mr. Butler, Dr. Cogan, Mr. Buckstone, Mr. Hatcher, Mr. Denham, and Mr. Hawes, attended the unfortunate divine to the door of the dock, from whence he could scarcely advance, on account of extreme weakness:—being asked, as usual, why sentence of death should not be pronounced,—he paused for a few moments, and then addressed the court in the following manner:
My Lord,
“I now stand before you, a dreadful example of human infirmity. I entered upon life with all the flattering expectations of a young man, whose birth and education entitled him to hope for content; I taught the truth of the gospel with the pure zeal of a christian, and have the happiness to reflect, that by listening to my doctrine, some have been preserved from sin, and some have been called to repentance;—yet, while I preached virtue to others, I could not avoid the moment of my own confusion, in which temptation came upon me in the full bulk. I will not however presume to oppose, or counterbalance; I will not extenuate, but by declaring that I did not intend to defraud. I have fallen from fortune and reputation to extreme poverty and contempt; my name fills ballads in the public streets, the sport of the thoughtless and inhuman. It may however appear strange, that amidst this accumulated misery, I still wish to live; I wish to atone for the enormity of my transgression by exemplary repentance. I do not mingle with the heathen principle, so as not to fear the approach of death; I confess I dread the struggles of a violent death, and I wish also to atone for the reflection I have brought upon the clergy; besides, my Lord, I find myself but ill prepared for that awful moment. The dreadful gloom of a prison is but badly suited to repentance; let not then a little life be refused me in return for thirty years, spent in purity, and in such acts of charity and benevolence as possibly came within my reach. Recommend me, my lord, in your report, to the royal mercy, and let my remaining punishment be left to that judge whose mercy is equal to his wrath.”—During this short and pathetic speech he was frequently interrupted by tears and emotions, too exquisite for description, and such as produced a general sympathy.—After a short pause, the recorder addressed him with the utmost tenderness; said he had a fair and impartial trial, which he himself had acknowledged; that he was happy to find he entertained a just sense of his offence, and advised him to make a public acknowledgment thereof, without any paliation, as the best atonement his situation would admit. He said there was no doubt a power yet remained in which mercy dwelt, but he advised him not to flatter himself with vain hopes. And now, says the humane judge, the very painful duty only remains of pronouncing that awful sentence which the laws have provided for offences of so high a nature.—While the sentence was pronouncing, the hangman stood in readiness to perform the barbarous and unmeaning ceremony of tying the prisoner's thumbs; but the jailor, whose general conduct is truly amiable, prevented that disgraceful operation. The trembling convict could hardly support himself upon his return to his friends, who were obliged to assist him to the doleful mansions allotted for all in his melancholy situation.