The lost hunter: A tale of early times

by John Turvill Adams

After the testimony had all been taken, followed the speeches of the counsel. Ketchum, who, as prosecutor, was entitled to the opening and closing arguments, rose and stated that, as the days were short, and it was growing late, he would waive his right of opening, and reserve what he had to say to the time when his brother Tippit had concluded. To this arrangement Tippit strenuously objected, insisting that the State had made out so poor a case, that he hardly knew what to reply to, and that in all fairness the counsel for the State ought to enlighten him. The court, however, decided, that although it was a strange thing for a lawyer to desire to be excused from making a speech, yet it was a course he felt much obliged to Mr. Ketchum for adopting, and hoped that he would not revenge himself for the abstinence by putting two speeches into one, at the conclusion.

Smiles and applauding whispers among the audience rewarded the Justice for this brilliant display of wit.

Hereupon Mr. Tippit rose and addressed the court. He begun by hinting at the embarrassment he felt in not having the advantage, to use his own language, of what his brother Ketchum intended to say. For his own part, he had carefully considered the law and evidence, and could not find the shadow of a pretext for detaining the prisoner. He then went on to speak of the prisoner himself, his age, his harmless life, and the excellent character he sustained. All this, he argued, went to show the improbability of his having uttered the language considered most objectionable. He contended that although he would most cheerfully admit that the prisoner had said something in the conference-room, it was impossible to determine accurately what that something was; that if in this state of things the court not be satisfied what the words were exactly, it was as if no words at all had been uttered, and there were none to be passed upon. But what were the words? Here the learned counsel minutely examined the evidence, and arrived at the conclusion, that it was impossible to ascertain them. Hence, he said, the corpus delicti is wanting. But suppose the words were as testified by some, though they are contradicted by others, "damned abominable," what then? Was that reviling or profane speaking? The words were two. Now, no one would pretend that "abominable" was profane language. "The idea is abominable," said Tippit, "and I hope brother Ketchum won't take me up for saying that. What does the other word mean?" Hereupon the counsel referred to a dictionary, to which also we refer our readers. "There you see," said he, "there is no harm in it. At most, the word can in its present application, be considered only as an intensitive, or the like. The fact is, may it please the court, it is but a strong form of expression, and means no more nor less than very, and I should be willing to leave it to the good sense of those who hear me, as to a jury, to say if my construction is not correct."

Here Tom Gladding nodded his head at Tippit.

"Mr. Gladding," continued Tippit, "nods his head, and I honor his judgment, and venture to say there is not a man here better qualified to speak on the subject."

Here there was a general laugh at Tom's expense, in which the court itself joined. Tom, appearing to regard the joke very little, and only saying, "The squire's got it right by chance this time, I guess." Presently, the court commanded silence, and Mr. Tippit proceeded.

"I flatter myself," he added, "that I have satisfied your honor there is no profane language in the case; and that ought to be sufficient for my purpose, even though the court should be of opinion that the prisoner was guilty of reviling; because the words of the statute are in the conjunctive, providing punishment only where profane speaking and reviling are united, being levelled, not at one alone, but at both as one act. It should also be borne in mind, that the statute is penal, and for that reason must be construed, strictly, in favor of liberty. But I will now proceed to inquire whether there has been any reviling in the sense of the statute. Who was intended to be protected against injurious language? Reasonable beings only, certainly. Assuredly not the delicate feelings of horses, or cows, or pigs, and if so, much less those of an inanimate object, like a book. Now, it will be recollected that the language uttered characterized the contents of a book, not Mr. Davenport. The words were consistent with the supposition that the prisoner cherished the highest respect for him, whatever his opinion might be of the sermon. It was then absurd to pursue a man criminally for criticising a book, and requesting another not to read it, which was all that had been done."

Here Ketchum inquired how his brother Tippit would get over the words, "man of sin," which it was testified had been applied by the prisoner to Davenport.

Mr. Tippit treated the inquiry with great contempt. "Does the gentleman," he asked, in turn, "claim for Mr. Davenport a superhuman degree of piety? Would he have us understand that Mr. Davenport is not a sinful man, and is the expression made use of by Mr. Holden more than tantamount to that? I do not think the words worthy of notice," he said, "nor am I disposed to waste time on them." Mr. Tippit concluded by saying, that if a man, in the honest expression of his opinions about a book, was to be dealt with criminally, free speech, free action, the noble inheritance of our ancestors, were gone, and the liberties of the country no more. Collecting himself for a last effort, he represented the Goddess of Liberty, like Niobe, all tears, weeping over the fate of her children, should the iniquity, contemplated by Ketchum, be consummated.

The impression made by the lawyer's speech was favorable, as was evident from the looks of the audience, and the approving hum that filled the room, and prepossessed as they were in favor of Holden, they would undoubtedly have acquitted him, but, alas! they were not the tribunal to decide his fate. We have already dilated on the proceedings of the little court of pied poudre, beyond our original intention, and for that reason shall endeavor, without designing, "with malice prepense," to slight the eloquence of Ketchum, to compress his remarks into as small a compass as possible. He has since risen to the dignity of a County Court Judge, and, therefore, needs no celebrity, which a work so unpretending as the present, can confer.