Chapter I: Wrongful Convictions (2)

Meanwhile, Schönleben had been again questioned, and still stoutly denied his guilt. When asked as to his accomplices and confederates, he replied that he could have had none, having committed no crime. Beutner, the beadmaker, had no doubt asked him once where Sterbenk's counting-house was situated, and whether the family all slept upstairs, but, after all, that might be mere curiosity. Beutner excused himself by saying he must have been drunk when he asked such questions--at least, he had no recollection of putting them. Several independent witnesses deposed to having been with Beutner on the night of the robbery till 2 a.m., after which they walked home with him.

The perverse cruelty of the Nuremberg Court, which had accepted Kirchmeier's story so readily, was not yet exhausted, and, very much as in the case of Calas, given on a previous page, it persisted in seeking a confession as its own best justification. Mannert was still obdurate, however, and force was now applied. Floggings were tried, but quite without result, and at last, a fresh search of the dwellings of both Mannert and Schönleben having proved fruitless, it was resolved to appeal to the antiquated instruments of Nuremberg justice, surviving still, within ten years of the nineteenth century--the priest and the rack.

The power of the priest to extort confession, even from the most hardened criminals, had often proved successful heretofore, and public expectation was raised high that justice would once more be vindicated in this fashion. But the priests failed now. Neither Mannert, nor his wife, nor his sons would make the slightest acknowledgment of their guilt, and it became clear that they had won over the priests to their side. Still the Court was resolute to follow out its own line of action. Confession having failed, it determined to try the effect of flogging the woman, or, if her health did not allow such an extreme proceeding, she was to be strictly isolated, and kept upon bread and water in the darkest dungeon of the prison; lastly, if these merciless measures proved of no avail, she was to be subjected to the rack.

Schönleben, from the recesses of the prison, now made a desperate effort to free himself by reviving suspicion against Beutner. So absolutely helpless and hopeless had justice now become that the Nuremberg Court actually accepted a dream as evidence. Schönleben pretended that he had seen the missing cash-box under a heap of wood at Beutner's house--seen it only in his dreams, however. This "baseless fabric" of his imagination sufficed to send the officers to search Beutner's house, and although nothing was discovered, public opinion agreed with the judges in again accusing Beutner, and he was held to be implicated, despite the renewed proof of a satisfactory _alibi_. Nobody believed Beutner's witnesses.

The next incident in these shameful proceedings was the death of Frau Mannert, who succumbed to the cruel treatment she had received. She died protesting her innocence to the last, and the priests who shrived her in the dark underground cell where she breathed her last expressed much indignation at the shocking ill-usage to which she owed her death.

Four more months passed, bringing no relaxation in the law's severity towards those whom it still gripped in its cruel clutches. Who shall say what their fate might have been? But now, at last, an unexpected turn was given to the inquiry, and by pure accident justice got upon the right track. Certain rumours reached the ears of one of the judges, who proceeded to investigate them. These rumours started from a beer-shop, where someone in his cups had been heard grossly to abuse a locksmith, Gösser by name, and his assistant, Blösel. The vituperation ended in a direct charge of complicity in the Sterbenk robbery. Blösel sat speechless under the attack, but his master, Gösser, tried lamely to repudiate the charges. It was remembered now against these two that, although miserably poor till a certain date, they had become suddenly rich; had bought good clothes and silver watches, had launched out into many extravagances, and were always ready to stand treat to their friends. Gösser just now had applied for a passport to leave Nuremberg and go to Dresden; and passports were in those days rather expensive luxuries, and generally beyond the means of persons in straitened circumstances. Schönleben once more contributed his quota to the newly formulated charge; he had always suspected him, he said; and this time he had good reason to do so. When the police arrested Gösser and his assistant (they were always glad to arrest anybody), the two prisoners incontinently confessed their crime.

Gösser, a man of thirty-three, had settled in Nuremberg with his wife and family about a year previously. He was a shiftless, aimless fellow, and it was only by serious money sacrifices that he obtained admission into the guild of locksmiths in Nuremberg. Having thus started in debt, he was never able to get clear

again. He was often in want of the necessaries of life; his relations would not help him; and he began to despair of ever gaining an honest livelihood. Having once visited Sterbenk's house, he had quickly realised how easily the counting-house door might be forced. The criminal idea of thus obtaining funds once formed, it grew and gained more mastery, till at length, on the night of the 29th of January, he proceeded to perpetrate the theft. He went to Sterbenk's, opened the outer door, which he said was unbolted, and silently, and without difficulty, entered the counting-house. Finding the strong-box too heavy to move by himself, he had gone home and awakened his assistant, whom he persuaded to join him. Together they had crept back, lifted the cash-box, and, without interference, carried it home. While Gösser's wife was out of the way, they opened it and divided the spoil. The box they kept close hidden for a long time, but at last broke it up and threw the pieces bit by bit into the river. After the robbery Gösser confessed to his wife, who, overcome with fear, implored her husband to return the money. But he paid some pressing debts and bought what he needed for his business, and now hoped that he was on the high road to success and competence. Gösser declared that no one had instigated him to the deed, that he alone was responsible, and had had no accomplice beyond Blösel; and the confessions of his wife and Blösel corroborated these statements.

An examination of Gösser's dwelling also confirmed them, while portions of the strong-box were by-and-bye found in the river. But it was not till after there remained no shadow of doubt of the truth of Gösser's story that the other prisoners were lightened of their chains, and only by degrees were they informed of the new turn of affairs.

Kirchmeier was arrested on the 4th of November, and feeling ran tremendously strong against him as the original cause of so much cruel injustice. His three confessions were read out to him, and he was asked if he still stood by them. Strange to state, he firmly reiterated them, continuing to do so even when the fragments of the box and the plainly rebutting evidence were laid before him. The only plausible solution of his extraordinary conduct was that he suffered from hallucinations. He had only lately recovered from a bad attack of bilious fever; and it was quite probable that in his convalescent condition the excitement of the robbery working on a disordered mind produced an impression which had all the weight and force of actual tangible fact. Some such view of his conduct was evidently taken by the Court; for, although arraigned for perjury, he was acquitted, and absolved from having falsely sworn from any evil motive. Yet his fellow-townspeople could not readily forgive him, or forget the sufferings he had brought upon the innocent victims of his delusions. He was scouted by his old friends and deserted by his customers; and, to escape universal execration and the starvation that threatened him, he settled in another part of Germany. Gösser and Blösel were, of course, duly punished.

"THE BLUE DRAGOON."

This case,[6] in which Justice got upon a false scent and narrowly escaped the commission of a tragical blunder, is remarkable for the tortuous course it ran before the truth was at last reached. In a certain Dutch town there lived, towards the close of the last century, an elderly widow lady, Madame Andrecht. She was fairly well-to-do, and possessed some valuable silver, although she lived in a quiet, retired street and in a not very reputable locality. Her neighbours were all of the poorer classes; and the town ditch, which was navigable, flowed at the bottom of her back garden. Hers was a tranquil, uneventful existence; she was served by one elderly female servant, and her only recreation was a yearly visit paid to a married son in the country, when she locked up the house and took the servant away with her.

On the 30th of June, 17--, she returned home, after one of these visits, to find her house broken into and most of her possessions gone. It was clear that the thieves were acquainted with the interior of the house, and had set to work in a systematic fashion, although some of the plunder had escaped them. A window leading from the garden had been forced; the back door was open, and footsteps could be traced down the garden to the hedge at the bottom over the ditch. This pointed to the removal of the booty by boat.

The discovery of this robbery caused a great sensation, and the house was soon surrounded by a gaping crowd, whom the police had some trouble in controlling. One, an irrepressible baker, managed to make his way inside, and his acquaintances awaited with impatience the result of his investigations. But on his return he assumed a great air of mystery, and refused to satisfy their curiosity. Everyone was left to evolve his own theory, and the most voluble of the chatterers was a wool-spinner, Leendert van N----, who talked so pointedly that before evening he was summoned to the town house and called upon for an explanation by the burgomaster. In a hesitating, stammering way, as if dreading to incriminate anyone, he unfolded his suspicions, which were to the following effect:--

At the end of the street stood a small alehouse, kept by an ex-soldier, Nicholas D----, commonly known as the "Blue Dragoon." Some years previously he had courted and married a servant of Madame Andrecht. The mistress had never liked the match, and had done all she could to prevent the young people from meeting. Nicholas had managed, however, to pay the girl secret visits, stealing at night across Leendert's back garden and over the hedge. Leendert objected, and begged Nicholas to discontinue these clandestine proceedings. Later on he discovered that the ardent lover used to row along the fosse and enter the garden that way. All this was ancient history, but it was brought back to his mind by the robbery. His suspicion had been emphasised by the fact of his finding a handkerchief on the fosse bank, opposite the garden, only ten days before. This handkerchief proved to be marked with the initials N. D.

Suspicion, once raised against the dragoon, was strengthened by other circumstances. During the first search of the house a half-burnt paper had been picked up, presumably a pipelight. On examination, it was found to be an excise receipt, and further investigation proved it to have belonged to Nicholas D----. This evidence, such as it was, seemed to point to the same person, and, after a short consultation among the magistrates, orders were given for his arrest, and that of his wife, father, and brother. His house was ransacked, but the closest search failed to reveal the missing plate; only in one drawer a memorandum-book was discovered which was proved beyond doubt to have belonged to Madame Andrecht.

Nothing resulted from a first examination to which the prisoner was subjected. He answered every question in an open, straightforward manner; but while admitting the facts of his courtship, as told by the wool-spinner, he could adduce no rebutting evidence in his own defence. The other members of the household corroborated what he had said; and the wife declared strenuously that the note-book had not been in the drawer the previous week, when she had removed all the contents in order to clean the press. Their attitude and their earnest protestations of innocence made a favourable impression on the judge; the neighbours testified to their honest character and general good name. Still, Nicholas could not be actually exonerated; the note-book, the charred receipt, and the handkerchief were so many unanswered points against him.

At this stage of the inquiry a new witness came forward and strengthened the suspicion against Nicholas D----. A respectable citizen, a wood merchant, voluntarily appeared before the authorities and made a statement, which, he said, had been weighing on his conscience ever since the robbery. It would seem that a carpenter, Isaac van C----, owed this man money; and he had been obliged to put pressure upon him. The carpenter had begged him to delay proceedings, telling him of the difficulty he also had in collecting his dues, and showing him some silver plate he had taken in pledge from one of his debtors. After some discussion, the wood merchant agreed to accept the plate as part payment of the carpenter's bill. When the robbery became known, the wood merchant began to think the articles pledged to him might have formed part of the stolen property. He had no reason to suspect his debtor, the carpenter, of being concerned in the theft, but still he thought the clue ought to be followed up.

The carpenter was immediately sent for and examined. He said that the debtor of whom he spoke to the wood merchant was Nicholas D----, who owed him sixty gulden for work done on the premises, and as he would not or was unable to pay, he (the carpenter) had peremptorily asked for his money. Nicholas then offered him some old silver, which he said had belonged to his father, and asked him to dispose of it through an agent in Amsterdam or some distant town. Nicholas was brought in, and, confronted with the carpenter, did not deny that he owed the debt and could not see how to pay it; but when the plate was shown him he hesitated, turned pale, and declared he knew nothing about it. His nervousness and prevarication excited a general doubt as to his previous statements. This was further increased by the examination of the carpenter's private account-book, which contained an entry of the old silver received from the innkeeper. The carpenter's housekeeper and apprentice also bore witness to the agreement.

The general feeling in the town was now very strong against Nicholas D----. He was committed to the town prison, and his relatives placed under closest surveillance. All, nevertheless, persisted in their story. In order to ascertain the truth, justice was prepared to go to the extreme length of applying torture to force a confession from the obstinate accused. But happily, just as the "question" was about to be employed, the following letter was received:--

"Before I leave the country and betake myself where I shall be
beyond the reach either of the Court of M---- or the military
tribunal of the garrison, I would save the unfortunate persons who
are now prisoners at M----. Beware of punishing the innkeeper, his
wife, his father, or his brother, for a crime of which they are not
guilty. How the story of the carpenter is connected with theirs I
cannot conjecture. I have heard of it with the greatest surprise.
The latter may not himself be entirely innocent. Let the judge pay
attention to this remark. You may spare yourself the trouble of
inquiring after me. If the wind is favourable, by the time you read
this letter I shall be on my passage to England.

"JOSEPH CHRISTIAN RUHLER,
Formerly Corporal in the Company of Le Lery."

The receipt of this letter started a new set of conjectures, followed up by inquiries. Captain le Lery's company was quartered in the town, and Corporal Ruhler had, as a matter of fact, belonged to it, but he had mysteriously and suddenly disappeared about the time of the robbery. No trace of him had been found. His letter seemed to throw light upon his disappearance, yet when it was shown to his captain and some of his comrades it was unanimously declared to be a forgery. What could have been the writer's object in fabricating it? Various theories were advanced, the most popular being that some guilty party, knowing the corporal had gone, thought to implicate him and save the accused from the torture, which might have driven them to full confession, in which the names of all accomplices would have been divulged. It was a clumsy explanation, but the only feasible one forthcoming. Every effort was made to discover the author of the letter, but without avail.

Now a fresh witness volunteered information--a merchant who lived in Madame Andrecht's neighbourhood, and who had left home about the time that the robbery had been perpetrated. He had just returned, to find that the mysterious affair was the talk of the town--indeed, he had had a full account of it from his fellow-passengers in the coach which brought him home. He now came to the authorities and told them what he knew. A day or two before the robbery a carpenter, Isaac van C----, had come to him seeking to borrow his boat, which the merchant kept in the fosse just behind his warehouse. Isaac made some pretence for wanting the boat which was not altogether satisfactory to the merchant, who refused to lend it, but yielded when the carpenter declared he wished to use it for the purposes of fishing. The next morning the boat was returned, but was not in exactly its right place; the inside of the boat, moreover, was too clean and dry for it to have been recently used for fishing. The merchant, although he had not yet heard of the robbery, strongly suspected that the carpenter had used the boat for some improper purpose, and he was strengthened in this view by finding two silver spoons under one of the thwarts. This discovery angered him, for he felt he had been deceived, and putting the spoons in his pocket, he went at once to the carpenter for an explanation. The carpenter, with whom were his housekeeper and apprentice, seemed greatly embarrassed when the spoons were produced, and after having been pressed by the merchant, they confessed that they had been up to no good, but would not say where or how they had obtained these spoons. The merchant was now called away from home, and the affair was driven from his mind by more serious transactions. Now that he heard of the robbery, he remembered the suspicious conduct of the carpenter and his servants.

Evidence of this sort, coming from a witness of the highest character, carried so much weight that the judge ordered the carpenter and his companions to be arrested. At the same time, search was made in the house, which resulted in the discovery of the whole of the stolen effects. The culprits, finding it useless to deny their guilt, now made full confession. The three of them were implicated, but it was not settled who had originated the idea. The apprentice, having worked in Madame Andrecht's house for another master, knew his way about it, and had guided the thieves after they had effected their entrance. The boat had been borrowed, in the way described, to simplify the removal of the plunder. All three of the culprits were with the crowd assembled outside the house when the robbery had been discovered. They heard of the suspicions against the Blue Dragoon, and the apprentice at once visited the alehouse, and succeeded in secreting the memorandum-book in the drawer of the press, where it was discovered.

The foregoing evidence was sufficient to convict the carpenter and his two accomplices, but justice was not yet satisfied of Nicholas D----'s innocence. Two damaging facts still told against him: the half-charred excise bill and the handkerchief bearing his initials. It was possible that he had been an accomplice, although the carpenter and the others would not accuse him. That other people were also concerned seemed evident from the fact of the forged letter, whose authorship was still undiscovered.

Further facts of a strange and interesting kind were presently forthcoming about this letter. The schoolmaster of a neighbouring village came with a scrap of paper on which was inscribed the name Joseph Christian Ruhler, the name with which the forged letter had been signed. At the schoolmaster's request the writing of this paper was compared with that of the letter, and they were found to be identical. Then the schoolmaster went on to say that both had been written by a pupil of his, a deaf and dumb boy whom he had taught to write, and who made a scanty living as an amanuensis. Some time before this, an unknown man had called on the boy, had taken him to an inn in the village, and there given him a letter to copy. The boy, on reading the letter--which, as we have seen, was of a very compromising nature--demurred. But he was pacified by the present of a gulden, and made the copy. Still, the secrecy and peculiarity of the whole affair weighed on his mind, and he at length confided the story to his teacher. The alleged letter from the corporal had already got into circulation in the neighbourhood, and was clearly the one the boy had copied. The schoolmaster went to the inn, made inquiries about the strange man, and eventually found him to be a baker, H----, the very man who had been so determined to enter Madame Andrecht's house when the robbery was first announced. So far he had been utterly unconnected in any way with the crime, though his excessive zeal had attracted attention at the time. However, he was arrested; and from the disclosures he made a warrant was also issued for the apprehension of the wool-spinner, Leendert van N----, and his wife, who had been the first to air their suspicions of the innkeeper's complicity.

As the investigation proceeded, a curious tale was unfolded. The last persons arrested had no share in the housebreaking, but were concerned in another crime, which probably would never have been discovered but for the robbery. The substance of their confessions was as follows:--

Leendert van N----, H---- the baker, and Corporal Ruhler were old acquaintances, and had dealings together of not too reputable a kind in connection with the victualling and clothing of the garrison. They cordially hated and despised each other, and only kept together from community of interests and pursuits.

The associates were playing cards one evening (June 29th) in Leendert's house, situated in the vicinity of Madame Andrecht's, when they quarrelled with the corporal, and the corporal retorted in offensive terms. From words they came to blows, in which Madame van N---- assisted. In a few minutes the corporal lay pinioned on the ground, uttering loud curses and threatening them with public exposure. The baker whispered that they had better do the job thoroughly, and after a few blows the corpse, drenched in blood, lay at their feet.

The terrors of conscience and the apprehensions of their crime paralysed their thoughts during the night. The next morning they heard the commotion caused by the news of the discovery of the robbery at Madame Andrecht's. At once they realised their danger, and the probability of a house-to-house search being instituted, when their horrible crime would be discovered. Their great object, then, was to give the authorities something to occupy their time till the body could be disposed of. It was Madame van N---- who perfected the idea. Why should not suspicion be laid at the door of the Blue Dragoon? His nocturnal courtship was remembered, and corroborative evidence could be supplied by a handkerchief that he had dropped in the house some little time before. The baker then remembered the old excise receipt that Nicholas D---- had once handed him to make a note on. Part of it was charred away, and the remaining portion was carelessly dropped in the house when the baker accompanied the police in their search. It may be remembered that the van N----'s were most busy in the hints they gave of the innkeeper's supposed guilt, and their machinations were unconsciously assisted by those of the carpenter and his confederates. So the false evidence brought by these two independent plots formed very circumstantial proof against the innocent victim. However, the baker and the wool-spinner only wanted to excite suspicion against Nicholas till they could accomplish their object of hiding the body. That effected, they began to feel remorse that an innocent person should be ruined. The thought of the torture which awaited him struck them with horror, and they evolved the idea of a letter from

Ruhler, incriminating himself. Thus they hoped to obtain delay for Nicholas and safety for themselves. However, their plans were too well thought out; their fear of detection led them to employ the strange deaf and dumb boy to write their letter, which afterwards betrayed them.

Sentence of death was pronounced against the persons who had been concerned in the housebreaking as well as against those who had committed the murder, and it was carried into effect on all of them with the exception of Madame van N----, who died in prison. The wool-spinner alone exhibited any sign of penitence.