ry 29, 1753, nothing was ever found out--a fact most easily
explained by the hypothesis that she was where she said she was, at
Mother Wells's.
As to Elizabeth's later fortunes, accounts differ, but she quite
certainly married, in Connecticut, a Mr. Treat, a respectable yeoman,
said to have been opulent. She died in Connecticut in June 1773,
leaving a family.
In my opinion Elizabeth Canning was a victim of the common sense of
the eighteenth century. She told a very strange tale, and common-sense
holds that what is strange cannot be true. Yet something strange had
undeniably occurred. It was very strange if Elizabeth on the night of
January 1, retired to become a mother, of which there was no
appearance, while of an amour even gossip could not furnish a hint. It
was very strange if, having thus retired, she was robbed, starved,
stripped and brought to death's door, bleeding and broken down. It was
very strange that no vestige of evidence as to her real place of
concealment could ever be discovered. It was amazingly strange that a
girl, previously and afterwards of golden character, should in a
moment aim by perjury at 'innocent blood.' But the eighteenth century,
as represented by Mr. Davy, Mr. Willes, the barrister who fabled in
court, and the Recorder, found none of these things one half so
strange as Elizabeth Canning's story. Mr. Henry Fielding, who had some
knowledge of human nature, was of the same opinion as the present
candid inquirer. 'In this case,' writes the author of _Tom Jones_,
'one of the most simple girls I ever saw, if she be a wicked one,
hath been too hard for me. I am firmly persuaded that Elizabeth
Canning is a poor, honest, simple, innocent girl.'
_Moi aussi_, but--I would not have condemned the gipsy!
* * * * *
In this case the most perplexing thing of all is to be found in the
conflicting unpublished affidavits sworn in March 1753, when memories
as to the whereabouts of the gipsies were fresh. They form a great
mass of papers in State Papers Domestic, at the Record Office. I owe
to Mr. Courtney Kenny my knowledge of the two unpublished letters of
Fielding to the Duke of Newcastle which follow:
'My Lord Duke,--I received an order from my Lord Chancellor
immediately after the breaking up of the Council to lay before your
Grace all the Affidavits I had taken since the Gipsy Trial which
related to that Affair. I then told the Messenger that I had taken
non
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