Читать книгу The Hermit Convict - Rev. William Draper - Страница 9

Table of Contents

At 10 o'clock the next morning, the trumpeters who marched at the head of the Sheriff's procession, sounded their last shrill warning at the gates of the shire hall in Blythwick, that the assize was about to commence. The court was soon filled, and not long had they to wait for the judge. The ominous sudden bustle, and the cry of the usher, "Silence for his lordship, the judge," and that learned man entered with all the solemnities, the formulae, and the paraphernalia which is supposed to add so much to the realities of a court of justice. With a bow to the court, he took his seat, and the proceedings commenced. The charge to the grand jury is given verbatim.

It was as follows:

"Gentlemen of the grand jury,—We have met again in this court, where I have had the pleasure upon former occasions of seeing many of you who appear here to-day, as the representatives of your country in the important capacity of grand jurymen. It is scarcely necessary that I should bring before you the very common question—viz., the importance of the trust which is thus committed to your charge. I know that I am addressing gentlemen who have for a lengthened period served their country honorably and efficiently as magistrates in this great county. I am happy also to observe that there are amongst you some gentlemen whose knowledge of criminal law has been frequently put into practice in dealing with the peculiar crimes which will be brought before your notice. I advert to this, because in one of the principal cases which is set down for trial at this assize it is desirable that you should give some attention to the previous history of the prisoner, not to his prejudice, but as it may throw some light, perhaps, upon a very painful case which was tried at Winchester lately, in which case the prisoner sustained a prominent position. It is a curious fact, though not by any means an uncommon sequel to such cases as that to which I have referred, that the prisoner who is to be tried for forgery at this assize was substantially the prosecutor in that. Let me give you an outline of the more recent case. A certain man dies, leaving his entire property, real and personal, to his son, subject to the death of his widow, who was thus made sole legatee for her life, the estate at her decease descending really and entirely to his son. The widow lived nearly two years after her husband, and the son became by her death entitled to the inheritance which was willed to him by his late father, and had enjoyed its possession for some few weeks only, when a calamity fell upon him, by which he was chargeable with the death of a young man, a near neighbor of his, and was sentenced at the last Spring assize to transportation. I candidly confess that I fear that justice has miscarried in that case, but in the absence of proof, it is useless to speculate on mere impressions. He will be brought before you, and you will hear more than it will be proper for me now to allude to. The indictment against the prisoner, Henry Judd alias Julet, for it seems that he was known by the latter name at Southampton, where he once served as clerk to a Mr. Hartlop, who will also be produced as a witness; the indictment, I say, charges the prisoner with having forged a deed of gift, by which he, as the nephew of the testator, Argyle, became entitled to a charge upon his estate, at the death of the testator's wife, amounting to the sum of one thousand pounds in cash, and twenty-nine acres of land. The deed in question was witnessed—I am speaking now of the signature of Mr. Argyle, sen.—by the young man to whom I have referred already. He met his death, as was alleged, by the hand of the son to whom the bulk of the Argyle property descended. This young man being thus put out of the way, and the younger Argyle being under sentence of expatriation, the claim was soon after made by the prisoner, by the medium of a letter, announcing the existence of this deed of gift, and referring to a gentleman who is, I believe, a magistrate of this county. This letter was sent to Messrs. Boodle, who have for many years been the solicitors to the Argyle family. I am glad to inform you that the Crown has relinquished any right by which it might have interfered with the estate in question, and by the consent of all parties, the property will be sold, and the proceeds will be funded for the benefit of the young man when his sentence has expired. I have paid some attention to this case, and believe that it is possible to unravel much of the mystery in which it is involved, and all I will now add is the sincere hope that the hearing of it may result in strict justice and equity to all parties concerned. The other cases which will come before you are not such as demand any comment from me. I rejoice, gentlemen, that though the calendar is heavy, numerically, yet the majority of the prisoners have been committed for offences comparatively trivial, and which might have been disposed of by a summary conviction. Hoping that provision for this may soon be made by the legislature, I now dismiss you to your duties with the usual request that you will, as soon as possible, send down a true bill, that we may proceed to business."

The grand jury having retired, the judge addressed the counsel for the defendant. He stated that as the evidence of Mr. Hartlop—a copy of which had been furnished by his order to the prisoner's solicitor—was very important, he had ordered the trial to be postponed until all the other cases were disposed of. If the learned counsel had any proposal to make, he should be glad to hear it now.

"I should have been very glad, my lord, to have had the trial postponed unto the next assizes, and have given my advice to that effect, but my client is determined not to accede to it. It seems manifestly unfair to allow a case to come on for trial with important evidence of an entirely new character, and a very limited period in which to consider it. I understand also, my lord, that another witness is to be brought up by writ of habeas corpus, whose evidence is altogether unknown at present. I should protest against such a bungling attempt at injustice, for which we hold the prosecution entirely responsible, but, by an incomprehensible obstinacy, my client seems determined to have the case tried at the present assize. I leave the matter in the hands of your lordship. My own opinion is, the case ought to be postponed."

"I do not think, Mr. Stephens," replied the judge, "that the new evidence will need much consideration; if I am correct in my judgment, it will prove to be a very commonplace illustration of criminal law. I regret that the circumstances, which have so recently transpired, were not known before the prisoner was committed for trial, but for this, the prosecution, I learn, were not accountable."

"I am fully acquainted, my lord, with this part of the case. In fact," continued the learned counsel, "we must do the prosecution the justice of admitting that they have furnished us with all the particulars of Mr. Hartlop's affidavit, and also a summary of the probable evidence of the convict Stewart. My client, my lord, I am informed, has some insuperable objection to any delay, in spite of all that can be urged in favor of a postponement of the trial."

"In this case, let the trial of Henry Judd be taken as the last upon the calendar," said the judge.

With the proceedings of the next five days we have nothing to do, but on the sixth Henry Judd was placed at the bar. The indictment was read; it charged him with having "knowingly and fraudulently uttered a deed of gift, the signatures to which were forged, by which deed he (the prisoner) was made to appear as a claimant upon the estate of one David Argyle, deceased, for the sum of one thousand pounds sterling, in addition to sundry lands, &c., &c." To this the prisoner pleaded "Not guilty."

Counsel for the prosecution then addressed the court. The preliminary portion may be dismissed as easily as all sympathy for the prisoner was banished from the mass of people who heard the speech to the end. "If they can prove one half of that which the prisoner is accused of, I would not give much for his chance." Such was the general opinion. It was alleged against him that he forged and uttered the deed of gift; that to cover his crimes he had wilfully and knowingly been guilty of false witness against others; that the death of the only alleged witness to the deed of gift was open to the strongest suspicion; and that, so far from there being any probability of such a mark of goodwill towards the prisoner on the part of old Mr. Argyle, he had always had the strongest antipathy towards him.

There were many witnesses, but a summary of the case will answer every purpose. It is merely necessary to explain how the three convicts became exiles from their native land, and this part of the history may be regarded therefore as prefatory to the rest. In pursuance of this plan, it may be stated that the last will of Mr. David Argyle, senior, was produced, and was proved to give and bequeath to his son David all and every his real and personal property whatsoever, &c., &c., subject to the control of his wife, Mary Argyle, during her lifetime, but at her death to be unconditionally the property of the son. Probate of the will was granted to Mr. Daniel Boodle, the sole executor to the estate. There was a clause in the will upon which a sharp contest rested. It was as follows: "subject to any and all contingencies, debts, gifts, and charges upon the estate which are lawfully chargeable thereon." This, it was contested, was strong evidence that the testator knew of some obligations which he thus provided for. But in opposition to this, Mr. Boodle, the executor, and also the solicitor who prepared the will, testified "that the testator distinctly stated to him at the time when the will was signed, that though he wished this clause to be inserted, he knew of no such charge, nor of any debts or contingencies which could possibly arise." In fact, Mr. Argyle regarded the future position of his son with a kind of honest pride, saying that he would not inherit a property which was hampered with a load of debt; it was all perfectly free, and, said he to him, "Mind you keep it so, my son," The death of the testator was proved, and the administration to the will; also the death of Mrs. Argyle, and the arrest and conviction of the son for the murder of young Rouse. Then the deed of gift, which was the subject of the prosecution, was produced. It was dated December 4, 18—, signed David Argyle, witnessed by Richard Rouse, and, supposing it to be genuine, entitled Henry Judd to a thousand pounds and the twenty-nine acres of land to which reference has been made. Septimus Long, who was called by the prosecution, but who evidently gave such answers as he could not avoid with extreme reluctance, deposed that he had received the deed from the prisoner, as collateral security for moneys advanced. Being further pressed, he did not know the date when he received it, nor could he tell how much money the prisoner had received from him. A lengthened examination ensued, in which the conduct of the witness during the inquest upon the body of Richard Rouse and the subsequent examination of Argyle was rigidly scrutinised, but nothing important was elicited. But at last, getting angry at the severe questions which were put to him, he frankly stated that the prisoner had told him "he had little hope of getting any portion of the money unless he resorted to violent means." It was not for him to say what he meant by the latter term; it might have been recovery by law for all he knew.

Mr. Hartlop called and examined: "The affidavit produced in court was his; it was perfectly true, to the best of his knowledge." It stated that at the time when the alleged deed of gift was executed, or said to be signed by Mr. Argyle, the prisoner was in his service, and had been in his employ for more than six years previously; that at the Winchester assizes, two years previously to the present time, he was the chief witness in the prosecution of his confidential clerk, James Stewart; that about two months afterwards he left his employment without notice, and, on inquiry, it was found that he had previously sold off all his goods, and had sent his wife and child away from Southampton; that since that day he had not heard of him, until about a week or ten days ago. He had seen the document which purported to be a deed of gift to him, the prisoner; it was written upon paper which belonged to him, and which was made expressly to his order. Being asked if he could inform the court whether there was any peculiarity in this paper, he stated that the water mark was H, with the word HYTHE and the number 14. As he always kept a sample of each year's paper by him, he now produced a sheet exactly similar to that upon which the deed of gift was written.

"Have you any opinion to offer about the handwriting in this document?" inquired the judge.

"My lord," replied the witness, "I could have sworn my late clerk, James Stewart, had written this deed, but I am not sure. It is very like his handwriting indeed."

The paper and the deed having been handed up to the judge, were by him declared to be identical the one with the other. Mr. Hartlop was severely cross-examined, but his testimony was too sure to be shaken.

"Call James Stewart." At this stage the judge interposed, and announced that as it was probable that the examination of this witness might occupy a long period, the court would be adjourned until the next day.

The morrow dawned dark and gloomy, a heavy fog covering the city—an emblem which was ominous as to the result of this trial. The terrible series of crimes met with retributive justice. Justice held the scales firmly. Blind she is said to be, but not really is it so. The sword is sheathed until the moment comes, who can tell what particular circle may be completed in that moment. Holy Scripture speaks of a period which, in the words of the Saviour, is called, 'thy day.' 'If thou hadst known in this thy day the things that belong to thy peace, but now they are hid from thy eyes.'

This is the principle upon which the scales are held: not a moment before the day is completed does the blow fall, but upon the striking of the hour the verdict which has been passed is fulfilled in the execution of the righteous sentence which has been awarded. As Stewart entered the witness box, the prisoner turned aside, as if he intended to make one great effort to bravo it out, but that one glance seemed to deprive him of his forced courage. The accused and the accuser had changed places once more. How could the latter look upon the orphaned lad now; a young man, with all the traces of his former intelligence and honesty of purpose written on his countenance, side by side with the lines of bitter grief. A convict, and by his wickedness! Yes, there is no intention of leaving this mystery to be solved in the concluding chapter. How the series of crimes were committed, and what was the temptation which urged the criminal to do such diabolical devilry, will be explained as the history is unrolled. It was the old thing in another form: one false step, but that step once taken could not be retraced, and it broke up the peace of many loving and loved hearts, who went sorrowing on account of it all their days.

But what had this witness to say? Enough, and more than enough to make the criminal cry out ere he had told it all, "Hold, I am guilty." But he braved it all to the end, as we shall see. The evidence of James Stewart was to this effect: "One evening, just as the prisoner was going home, he asked witness if he could speak with him. 'Come home with me to my house,' said he; 'I wish to consult you on a very particular matter. 'I went with him as he requested, and then he told me that he had a rich old aunt on his mother's side, whose husband was a farmer in Suffolk, and having no relations on his side besides his only son, he intended to leave him a thousand pounds in his will and some land. I almost forget," said the witness, pausing upon this question, "how much land he was to have. But that as he wanted money, the old man was willing to secure his legacy to him by a deed of gift, which he could lodge as security for a small advance to meet his present necessity. It seemed a curious proceeding, but, upon further inquiry, he told me," continued the witness, "that the old fellow was very eccentric, and was so fond of his money he would not let any of it go out of his hands while he was alive; but there was another reason: Davie—as he called the son of the old farmer—Davie was not partial to him (the prisoner), and if he gave him money then, the lad would not like it." In answer to other questions, the witness stated that he thought it would be best to borrow upon the old farmer's personal security, but to this the prisoner dissented, saying the old man would never consent to it.

"Upon this," said Stewart, "he asked if I would make a fair copy of the deed, a draft of which he showed me, and said that it had been approved by old Mr. Argyle. I demurred; begged that he would go to a lawyer; but, when he objected on account of the expense, and also the delay which would be certain to arise if he adopted my suggestion, I consented to do that which he requested. I recollect that he also said that Mr. Argyle would be in Southampton in the course of the week, and he wanted to have the deed ready for him to sign."

The question was then put to the witness slowly and very distinctly—"Did you then make a copy of the draft deed of which you have spoken in your evidence to the court?"

"I did," was the reply.

"Is this the document to which you refer?" The deed of gift was handed to the witness.

"It is," said Stewart.

"Have you seen that deed since the day you wrote it? Hand it down again," said the counsel.

"I have not."

"Now tell the court if you can remember what paper it was written on."

The witness hesitated for a moment, but then replied.

"My employer gave me leave to use paper in his office whenever I required any. The paper upon which I copied the deed which has been handed to me belonged to him."

"Was there any mark upon it?"

"All the paper was manufactured expressly to order, and a sufficient quantity, as estimated, was ordered for each year's consumption. I know that all Mr. Hartlop's paper bore the water mark H; there was another mark, but this was changed every year." The witness here paused, as if in thought, and the counsel put another question to him:

"What was the other mark?"

"I was thinking," replied Stewart. "The mark when—" Here the poor fellow could scarcely restrain his feelings; he tried to finish the sentence, but his tongue refused to speak. Mr. Hartlop, who was in the court, stood up as if he would speak to him, but this only made the matter worse. The witness had not seen his old master since the day when they parted, and as he now looked on him again, his pent up feelings burst out into a loud and prolonged cry—"Master, master! why has the Almighty used me thus?"

The scene was touching in the extreme. The good merchant was borne senseless from the court, he had fallen on the floor, some said in a fit, but God mercifully preserved him from such a calamity. The judge was exceedingly moved; there were few dry eyes even amongst the spectators; and a deep impression had been made upon the numerous members of the bar. The prisoner—how did he bear it? Unmoved?

Yes, unmoved!

After the lapse of a few minutes, the witness, who had been allowed to retire for that brief interval, re-appeared in the box, and the question was repeated.

"What was that other mark?"

"As far as I can recollect now," replied Stewart, "it must have been 'Hythe,' and there was a number, which would have been 14. If it was not 'Hythe,' it would be 'Holyrood,' and in that case the number would be 13."

"Tell the court, if you please, what is the water mark on the paper which you say you used for this deed."

The document was handed up to the witness, and amidst the deepest silence, during which the deep-drawn breathing of the spectators could be heard, the witness replied: "The water mark is 'H. Hythe;' the number 14."

"Now, did the prisoner say anything when you gave him the deed?"

The question was objected to, and so another was put, which meant the same thing—

"What took place when you gave the prisoner the deed which you say you copied by his request?"

"He expressed his thanks at first, and appeared to be very glad that I had been so prompt in making the copy."

"You say he expressed his thanks. Did he make any remark about the paper?"

"Not at first, but, holding it up to the light, he exclaimed, 'Why, 'tis Hartlop's paper! That will never do.'"

"Did he express any reason why it would not do?" was the next question which counsel put to the witness. This was objected to by the counsel for the defence, but the objection was overruled. The witness replied:

"No; but I thought he appeared to be confused."

"Why was not another copy made?" counsel asked.

To this the witness replied, "I refused to have anything more to do with it."

"Did you see this deed after that day?" asked the learned counsel.

"Yes, about ten days afterwards."

"What was its condition then? Had it been executed?"

"You mean, was it signed?" said the witness.

"Yes, that is the question."

"It was signed and witnessed," was the reply.

"Did you know anything about the signatures—how they were obtained?" Question objected to; objection allowed.

"Did you know that Mr. Argyle was in Southampton?"

"I did not see him," replied Stewart.

"Did prisoner tell you that he had been there?"

"He did."

"And that he had signed the deed of gift?"

"Yes, that he had signed that deed."

"Who is the witness—Richard Rouse?"

"I do not know."

A lengthened cross-examination ensued, in which the trial and conviction of the witness was unfolded to the world of curiosity in Blythwick. The judge frequently interfered, but in some way or other the whole history was re-told, with a little deeper hue of dark shade than was attached to it in its original form. It had this effect—it neutralised the feeling of sympathy which had been felt towards the witness by some of the spectators, but it deceived neither the judge nor the bar. The deed of gift was a bungle from beginning to end; it contained half a dozen flaws, any one of which would have proved sufficient in a court of law to have set it aside; but the utterance of it constituted an offence which was a deliberate attempt to defraud, and hence the prosecution was instituted. At the commencement of this prosecution, no one had the slightest idea of what the antecedents of the prisoner had been.

David Argyle was the next witness. The exanimation of this witness occupied more than two hours. It revealed nothing that was not already known. There was one question, however, which was extremely important; it was as follows: "Did your father visit Southampton in the latter part of his life?"

"To my knowledge," replied the witness, "he never was in that town; certainly not since I can remember."

"Should you have known it had he left home for any such purpose?"

"I knew all my late father's movements," was the reply. "He never left his home, except for the purpose of going to market, for more than five years before he died."

The old servant who had been an inmate of the household at Argyle Farm was also examined, and deposed to the same effect.

Then there were a host of witnesses who were called to give their opinion about the signatures to the deed. Of course there was the usual uncertainty; but the evidence of the son, the family solicitor, the bank authorities, and of two experts was conclusive. The signature of David Argyle was a bungle; that of Richard Rouse was tolerable. The prosecution adopted this theory—that, as the old farmer would be dead, his wife also gone, and the son by some possible means put out of the way, there would be no difficulty about the realisation of the property which the deed purported to secure to the prisoner. As many others have done before him, he reckoned upon the strength of a rotten tree to support him. The tree, even if it had been three times Septimus Long with all his schemes, was as rotten to the very core as the heart of his willing dupe. The arch schemer, Ahab like, obtained his purpose when the Argyle property was sold; the poor Nabal who had inherited it righteously was sacrificed; but the false witness who dabbled in the mud, partly to serve his own ends, and partly those of his tempting employer, fell into a pit of infamy, which he well deserved. Meanwhile the hands of the world's clock went on; the day of Mr. Septimus Long was not completed yet.

The case for the prosecution closed with the evidence about the signatures. There was no defence by evidence; an appeal artfully constructed, was made to the feelings of the jury; but it never mingled for an instant with the well-digested indignation which the conclave of twelve felt toward the prisoner. There was also a theory that no one had been called to prove that David Argyle, senior, had not really signed the deed; might it not have been sent to him, and, after being signed, duly returned to the prisoner? The hand writing, after all that had been said about it, really might have been that of the old man, whose age would warrant any one in believing that he could not write very steadily.

"Guilty."

There was an awful silence as the judge delivered sentence.

"Oh! surely not for life, my lord?"

"Yes, for life! And recollect that many a man has stood on the scaffold for a much smaller offence. It does not form a part of my duty now to add to the words which I have already addressed to you. Your disgrace and the misery in prospect before you, you must assuredly feel. As you have felt an evident surprise that the sentence which has been passed upon you is the most severe which the law allows, let me say I cannot help fearing that truth has been sadly sacrificed by you at the expense of precious liberty, of which you have deprived others besides yourself. It is exceedingly wonderful, but yet it is not strange, that an allwise Providence sometimes endows us, for special purposes, with a discrimination which appears, at a subsequent period of our lives, very little less than supernatural. Had not your former employer providentially met the solicitor to the prosecution as he did, it is probable that the principal evidence against you would have been wanting. Mr. Boodle, I learn, had no particular business in London, but still he journeyed thither. I leave it to your discernment to discover in this incident a proof that you were not plotting in secret, without the knowledge of Wisdom greater than our own. It has been my painful lot to be mixed up in the three cases in which you have taken so prominent a part. So far as you are concerned, the world has seen the last of your crimes. It will be useless to protest against the sentence which has been passed upon you. If you wish for mercy from above, whence alone it can reach you now, show mercy to others by an ample confession of all your crimes."

"My lord," replied the culprit, "I will take my fate; but let me say this: If ever those two cross my path, let them look out!"