In the first place, nearly all that has been established, or I will not say established, but nearly all that has been said, for the purpose of showing that our motives were corrupt, and that we actually conspired, rests upon evidence of what we call conversations. Some witness had a conversation with somebody, three years ago, four years ago, or five years ago. The unsafest and the most unsatisfactory evidence in this world is evidence of conversation. Words leave no trace. They leave no scar in the air, no footsteps. Memory writes upon the secret tablet of the brain words that no human eye can see. No man can look into the brain of another and tell whether he is giving a true transcript of what is there. It is absolutely impossible for you to tell whether it is memory or imagination. No one can do it. Another thing: Probably there is not a man in the world whose memory makes an absolutely perfect record. The moment it is written it begins to fade, and as the days pass it grows dim, and as the years go by, no matter how deeply it may have been engraven, it is covered by the moss of forgetfulness. And yet you are asked to take from men their liberty, to take from citizens their reputation, to tear down roof-trees, on testimony about conversation that happened years and years ago, as to which the party testifying had not the slightest interest. As a rule, memory is the child of attention—memory is the child of interest. Take the avaricious man. He sets down a debt in his brain, and he graves it as deep as graving upon stone. A man must have interest. His attention must be aroused. Tell me that a man can remember a conversation of four or five years ago in which he had no interest. We have been in this trial I don't know how many years. I have seen you, gentlemen, gradually growing gray. You have, during this trial, heard argument after argument as to what some witness said, as to some line embodied in this library. [Indicating record.] You have heard the counsel for the prosecution say one thing, the counsel for the defence another, and often his Honor, holding the impartial scales of memory, differs from us both, and then we have turned to the record and found that all were mistaken. That has happened again and again, and yet when that witness was testifying every attorney for the defence was watching him, and every attorney for the prosecution was looking at him. How hard it would be for you, Mr. Juror, or for any one of you to tell what a witness has said in this case. Yet men are brought here who had a casual conversation with one of the defendants five years ago about a matter in which no one of the witnesses was interested to the extent of one cent, and pretend to give that conversation entire. For ray part, were I upon the jury, I would pay no more attention to such evidence than I would to the idle wind. Such men are not giving a true transcript of their brains. It is the result of imagination. They wish to say something. They recollect they had a conversation upon a certain subject, and then they fill it out to suit the prosecution.
Now, I am told another thing; that after getting through with conversations they then gave us notice that we must produce our books, our papers, our letters, our stubs, and our checks; that we must produce everything in which we have any interest, and hand them all over to this prosecution. They say they only want what pertains to the mail business, but who is to judge of that? They want to look at them to see if they do pertain to the mail business. They won't take our word. We must produce them all. It may be that with such a net they might bring in something that would be calculated to get somebody in trouble about something, no matter whether this business or not. They might find out something that would annoy somebody. They gave us a notice wide enough and broad enough to cover everything we had or were likely to have. What did they want with those things? May be one of their witnesses wanted to see them. May be he wanted to stake out his testimony. May be he did not entirely rely upon his memory and wanted to find whether he should swear as to check-books or a check-book, and whether he should swear as to one stub or as to many. May be he wanted to look them all over so that he could fortify the story he was going to tell. We did not give them the books. We would not do it. We took the consequences. But what did we offer? That is the only way to find out our motive. I believe that on page 3776 there is something upon that subject. I will read what I said:
Now, gentlemen, with regard to the books. As there has been a good deal said on that subject I make this proposition: Mr. Dorsey has books extending over a period of twenty years, or somewhere in that neighborhood. He has had accounts with a great many people on a great many subjects. He does not wish to bring those books into court, or to have those accounts gone over by this prosecution, not for reasons in this case, but for reasons entirely outside of the case. If the gentlemen on the other side will agree, or if the Court will appoint any two men or any three men, we will present to those men all our books, every one that we ever had in the world, and allow them to go over every solitary item and report to this court every item pertaining to John W. Dorsey & Co., Miner, Peck & Co., or Vaile, Miner & Co., with regard to every dollar connected, directly or indirectly, with this entire business from November or December, 1877, to the present moment, and report to this Court exactly every item just as it is. I make that proposition.
That proposition was refused. What else did I do? I offered to bring into court every check, including the time they said we drew money to pay Brady. I offered to bring in every check on every bank in which we had one dollar deposited; every one. That was not admitted. And why? Because the Court distinctly said that it rests upon the oath of the defendant at last; he may have had money in banks that we know nothing about. To which I replied at the time that if we stated here in open court the name of every bank in which we did business, and there is any other bank knowing that we did do business with it, we will hear from it. So that we offered, gentlemen, in this case, every check on every bank but one. I did not know at that time that we had ever had an account with the German-American Savings Bank; I did not find that out until afterwards. But you will remember that Mr. Merrick held in his hand the account of Dorsey with that bank; and Mr. Keyser, who, I believe, had charge of that bank, was here, and if there had been anything upon those books, certainly the Government would have shown it.
More than that; that bank went into the hands of a receiver, I think, eight months before any of these checks are said to have been given for money which was afterwards given to Brady. Now, they insist, that because we failed to bring the books into court, therefore the law presumes that the absolute evidence of our guilt is in those books. I believe they claim that as the law. If my memory serves me rightly, Colonel Bliss so claimed in his speech. In other words, that when they give us notice to produce a book, and we do not produce it, there is a presumption against us. That is not the law, gentlemen. When they give us notice to produce a book or letter and we do not produce it, what can they do? They can prove the contents of the book or letter. In other words, if we fail to produce what is called the best evidence, then the Government can introduce secondary evidence. They can prove the contents by the memory of some witness, by some copy, no matter how; and that is the only possible consequence flowing from a refusal to produce the book or letter.
And yet, in this case, gentlemen, Mr. Bliss wishes you to give a verdict based upon two things: first, upon what we failed to prove; secondly, on what the Court would not let them prove. He tells you that they offered to prove so and so, but the Court would not let them; he wants you to take that into consideration; and secondly, that there were certain things that we did not prove; and that those two make up a case. That is their idea. Now, let us see if I am right about the law.
The first case to which I will call the attention of the Court is a very small one, but the principle is clear. It is the case of Lawson and another, assignees of Shiffner, vs. Sherwood, and it is found in 2 English Common-Law Reports; 1 Starkie, 314.
The Court. Colonel Ingersoll, you cannot argue that question to the jury; you cannot cite an authority and discuss it to the jury.
Mr. Ingersoll. Then I will discuss it with the Court; it is immaterial to me which way I turn when I am talking. I insist that the jury must at last decide the law in this case. I will read another case to the Court, found in 9 Maryland, Spring Garden Mutual Insurance Company, vs. Evans.
The Court decides in this case that the only consequence of their refusal to produce the papers, they not denying that they had them, was to allow the opposite party to prove their contents. That is all; that it could not be patched out with a presumption.