Radio Script #79

Little Talks On Common Things
October 15, 1950

Last week we left the Coolidge murder case with the victim buried and the accused lodged in the County jail at Augusta, awaiting trial. On March 14, 1848 that trial began. The court house at Augusta proving too small for a case that had aroused so much interest, the trial was held in the Congregational Church, which had been prepared for the purpose by the erection of suitable platforms for the Court, counsel and witnesses. When the doors were opened there was, as one newspaper put it, “a tremendous rush of spectators, quickly filling all seats, and leaving many unable to enter.” Several papers commented on the unseemly conduct of the usually staid Augusta matrons, who had gathered outside the doors before daylight and who did not hesitate to use hat pins on the men who got in their way.

As was then customary, more than one judge sat at this trial. Presiding was Chief Justice Whitman, and accompanying him were Judges Shepley and Wills. The case for the State was in charge of Attorney General Samuel Blake of Bangor, assisted by Lot M. Morrill of Augusta. That Attorney General has long since been forgotten, but his young assistant went on to fame, for Lot. M. Morrill became Governor, U. S. Senator, and Secretary of the Treasury.

It took all the morning and part of the afternoon to secure a jury. Expecting many objections and excuses, the Court had ordered a panel of 100 prospective jurors. Theodore Allen, the second man called, precipitated a long argument between Mr. Morrill and Edwin Noyes of Waterville who, with George Evans of Gardiner, was handling the defense. Mr. Noyes contended that any man who had formed a hypothetical opinion on a case was thereby unfitted to serve on the jury. The Court disagreed. Mr. Noyes had to use one of his peremptory challenges to keep Allen off the jury, though another Allen Joseph B. — had already been accepted. The twelve good men and true who must decide the fate of Dr. Coolidge were Francis Haines of East Livermore, foreman; Joseph Allen of Monmouth, Hiram Averill of Pittston, Brown Baker of Gardiner, Jonathan Clark of China, Daniel CUnningham of Windsor, Ozem Doust of Vienna, David Elliott of Readfield, Isaac Farr of Gardiner, Harrison Gould of Leeds, William Greene of Pittston and Harrison Ham of Wales.

Thanks to Mr. Doane Eaton, I have had a chance to read carefully a photostatic copy of the grand jury’s indictment of Valorus P. Coolidge, in the handwriting of the scribe who made those court records a hundred years ago. That grand jury left nothing to chance. They brought four counts against the young Waterville doctor: first, that he killed Mathews by.a blow on the head; second, that he mixed prussic acid with brandy and gave the mixture to Mathews who drank it; third, that he killed Mathews with a mixture of hydrocyanic acid and brandy; and fourth, that the doctor mixed prussic acid with brandy which Mathews was about to drink and did drink.

Now of course prussic acid is only the popular name for hydrocyanic acid; so counts 2 and 3 are the same. Count 4 was phrased so that Coolidge could be convicted even if it could not be proved that he had given Mathews the drink, but only that he had mixed it before Mathews drank it.

Of course all this was couched in the cumbrous, legal language of the courts. For instance, the actual wording of the first count is thus: “Valorus P. Coolidge, with force and arms, in and upon the body of Edward Mathews then and there in the peace of the state being, feloniously, willfully and of his malice aforethought, did make an assault, and that he, the said Valorus.

P. Coolidge, with a certain stick of wood, which he, the said Valorus . P. Coolidge, then and there in his right hand had and held, the afo~esaid Edward Mathews, in and upon the head of him and near the top thereof, then and there did strike, penetrate, wound, bruise and fracture, giving the said Edward Mathews one mortal wound, bruise and fracture of the length of three inches, of the width of two inches, and of the depth of one inch — of which said .mortal wound, bruise and fracture the said Edward Mathews then and there instantly died.

A lot of wordage that proved futile, because on that first count the jury found Dr. Coolidge not guilty. He did not kill Mathews by a blow on the head. Medical evidence clearly showed that the blow had been struck after death. It was reported that the state had more than one hundred witnesses ready to testify. At any rate sixty of them were actually called to the stand. Most of them only corroborated the testimony of more important witnesses, but some of them were vital. Professor Loomis of Waterville College explained in detail how he was sure that the stomach of the murdered man contained prussic acid, and cross examination failed to Shake him.

The trial had scarcely gone into its third day when it became apparent that Dr. Coolidge owed money to almost everyone in Waterville. And it was equally apparent that more than one of those creditors thought he was the only man from whom the doctor had borrowed.

The doctor owed William Tobey $115, and had once offered Tobey 10 per cent interest for a loan of $500, but Tobey didn’t bite. Coolidge owed $200 more to David Smi1ey~ $200 to Isaac Britton~ $125 to Daniel Moor, one hundred of which had been borrowed at 12% and on pledge of secrecy. He owed $100 to Warren Doe, $150 to John Philbrick, $180 to James Goodwin, $350 to John Richards, and $100 to Robert Drunnnond. On September 30, 1847, the day of the murder, two of Coolidge’s nc~es — one for $100 and a second for $300 — were overdue at the Ticonic Bank.

The cashier of that bank, Augustine Perkins, testified that on September 30 Edward Mathews had applied for a loan of $1,500 at about 10 o’clock in the morning, that he had taken a blank note and went ·out to get signers. He had returned about 3 P.M., presenting as co-signers John Mathews and Charles K. Mathews. Discounting the note for 60 days, the bank had handed over to Edward Mathews $1,484.25.

Now I have more than once heard it said that one thing which convicted Coolidge was the knowledge by John and Charles Mathews that Edward wanted the money to loan to Dr. Coolidge. Right here it must be said that there exists no official record of the testimony in the Coolidge trial. We are dependent entirely upon the reporters of various newspapers. But on this point those reporters agree. Not one of them says that, in their testimony, either John or Charles Mathews gave any reason why they signed Edward’s note for $1,500. It seems to have been a straight business transaction, in which a somewhat mysterious mortgage deed played a part.

No, it was not the borrowed money, but motive, opportunity and the clinching testimony of Thomas Flint that secured the doctor’s conviction. Young Flint told his story much as we outlined it in last week’s broadcast. He had gone to the office with Coolidge; he had helped the doctor carry the body down to the cellar; he had helped hide the money and had later burned it. Damaging as this testimony was, it had certain omissions. Flint did not say that at any time Coolidge confessed to him that he killed Mathews. He insisted that he was not afraid of Coolidge, that, as today’s slang would put it, Coolidge “had nothing on him”.

In his final summing up, the Attorney General made the most of Flint’s testimony. He said: “Can the jury possibly decide that Flint’s conduct on that evening destroys the credibility of his story? Look at the relation of the two parties. The prisoner was a man of high standing and large practice. Flint had then no suspicion of murder; he believed the doctor’s story. Place yourself at his age and in his relation to the prisoner, and what would you have done? As mature men of principle you might have rushed to the door and proclaimed the fact that a man had died there. But as a young man who looked upon the doctor as a benefactor you might have done as he did. Flint had no reason to implicate the prisoner by making up this story. He could make up a better story than that. He could say that the prisoner confessed the murder to him. But Flint does not say that. He has simply revealed the truth, not to implicate the prisoner, but because, on reflection and under the advice of his father, he deemed it his duty to God, his country, and his conscience to tell the truth …The defense consisted chiefly of an attempt to discredit Flint’s story.

The testimony of Oliver Paine implied that Flint could not have been in the office with Coolidge when he claimed he was on that evening of September 30, because Paine swore that he had seen Flint elsewhere at the time. Other witnesses emphasized Flint’s early statements that he not only knew nothing about the crime, but also was sure that it was not committed in Coolidge’s office.

At 5:30 P.M. on the- eighth day of the trial, the case went to the jury. At nine o’clock the next morning the jury was still out. At 11:30 the Court directed that the jury be brought in. The foreman stated that he feared there was no prospect of the jury agreeing. In answer to the; judge ‘ s questions, the foreman said there was no point of law requiring to be cleared up.

The disagreement was, rather, as to the weight of testimony sufficient to render a verdict. The court directed that the jury make further attempt to agree until 3 o’clock. At 3 0’ clock the officer attending the jury reported that the jury had not yet agreed, but might come to agreement in another half hour. At 4 o’clock the jury came into court. The names were called and all answered. The verdict rendered was that, upon the first count of the indictment the prisoner is not guilty, and upon the last three counts he is guilty of murder in the first degree.

The judge asked Coolidge if he had anything to say. Coolidge replied that he was an innocent man, that there is another and higher court before which he must stand and where false testimony will not avail. He said it would avail nothing for him to state what he knew, but that when he departed he might leave it in writing. He bade his friends and enemies an affectionate farewell, and said he was ready to receive his sentence.

On the next day,’ March 24, 1848, Chief Justice Whitman pronounced sentence: “Valor us P. Coolidge: a jury, after an impartial investigation, have pronounced against you a verdict of guilty of the crime of murder, and the court deems your guilt legally established. How inadequate your temptation!

How awful your deed! It is a case unparalleled in the history of crime, and affords a woeful instance of the frailty of human nature. But our statute is conceived in mercy. You are not to be hurried at once from time to eternity. You cannot be executed short of a year from this time, and that space, it may be hoped, will be devoted to your contemplation of your forlorn condition. And may contrition and repentance then make you a fit subject for the mercy of an offended God.

“Valorus P. Coolidge, we sentence you to be hanged by the neck until you be dead, and for this purpose that you be conveyed to the State Prison at Thomaston, in the County of Lincoln, and until this sentence of death shall be inflicted upon you, that you there be put to hard labor in solitary confinement.”

Thus ended the Coolidge trial. But the case itself was not finished. For what happened after the trial listen to our broadcast at this same time next week.

Year: 1950