The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll, Vol. 10 (of 12) / Dresden Edition—Legal

by Robert Green Ingersoll

There is his testimony. He was afraid then that he was caught, and he was going to swear deliberately that he swore before the grand jury, that he did know of crookedness. Then he changed his idea, and says afterward that it is about the one hundred and fifty barrels. He says now, "Put your question." Then I put this question—"Put your question." [Question repeated.] "A. The question was not put to me in that way."

Now, he gets out of it and says it was the one hundred and fifty barrels he talked about; but I asked him then if he was not asked if he did not know about any crookedness here and how he answered it, and he says that he answered it "Yes." That is, before he found out that it was necessary to change his answer or to change his mind upon that question. That is what he says. And it is utterly impossible, gentlemen, to get out of the fact that he did, before that grand jury, swear that he knew of no crookedness. You can not get out upon Mr. Roelle's testimony. You can not get out upon the idea that Schlichter put it in. Schlichter did not put it into the memory of the old man Samson. Schlichter did not write it in the memory of Mr. Hoag. Schlichter did not write it in the consciousness of Mr. Oleson. Schlichter did not write it in short-hand in the head of J. D. Ward. Schlichter, I tell you, by his short-hand necromancy, has not changed six or seven men into liars whether he put that in the second line from the top or not. He cannot do that with his short-hand, gentlemen. He could not make old Mr. Samson come here and say, "I asked that question myself; I thought that when he was there he was the head centre of all the rascality. And so just before he went out I put one of those general, pinching questions as to whether he knew anything. It was a kind of conscience scraper." The old man put that question just as these witnesses were going out: "Do you know anything about any fraud? Do you know anything about any crookedness?" It was a kind of a last question that would cover the case, and the old man recollects that he put it to Jacob Rehm and he recollects why he put it to him, because he believed at that time that he was the head centre of the villainy. Mr. Hoag says the same thing. Mr. Hoag says that he looked upon him as the great rascal in the business; and he recollects distinctly that he asked him that question; and he recollects as distinctly how he answered it. J. D. Ward was the attorney of the United States, and he swears to it that he recollects it perfectly. Oleson was an attorney of the United States. He says that he recollects it perfectly. And yet is this all to be accounted for, gentlemen, by saying that Mr. Schlichter inserted it in his notes and that all these other gentlemen are mistaken? The fact is, gentlemen, that Mr. Rehm, when he was there, had not made up his mind to vomit; he had not yet made up his mind that he could make a bargain with the United States to get out of punishment. He did not know at that time that he need not go to the penitentiary if he would furnish a substitute. He did not know, gentlemen, at that time that he could have any understanding with anybody; if he would bring better blood than his they would deal lightly with him. He did not know at that time that two owls could be traded off for an eagle. He did not know at that time that two snakes could be traded off for a decent man. As soon as he found that out, then, instead of saying that he did not know anything about any crookedness; instead of saying that he did not know anything about any fraud, he said, gentlemen, "I know all about it. I know all of them; every one of them."

Now, gentlemen, I want you to put against that man's testimony the lies he swore to himself. I want you to put against that man's testimony the improbability that he would commit numberless crimes for nothing. I want you to put against that man's testimony the testimony of every one who has contradicted and disputed him. I want you to put against that man's testimony the idea and the fact that he warned these other men against the approach of Munn. I want you to put against that man's testimony all the circumstances of the lies he has sworn; and I want you, in addition to that, to put against that man's testimony the evidence of this defendant.

You have been told by the district attorney—and if I have said anything too strong in the warmth of this discussion I beg his pardon. I have known Judge Bangs a long time, I have been his friend, I respect him; but I must say I felt a little outraged at what he said, because he said he had sympathy with this defendant. He got up here and said that the defendant bore a most excellent reputation. He got up and said that he sympathized with him, and all at once I saw his sympathy was a cloak under which he concealed a dagger to stab him. Now, then, he says good character is nothing. Good character is nothing! Good character, gentlemen, is not made in a day. It is the work of a life. The walls of that grand edifice called a good character have to be worked at during life. All the good deeds, all the good words, everything right and true and honest that he does, goes into this edifice, and it is domed and pinnacled with lofty aspirations and grand ambitions. It is not made in a day, neither can it be crumbled into blackened dust by a word from the putrid mouth of a perjurer. Let these snakes writhe and hiss about it. Let the bats fly in at its windows if they can. They cannot destroy it; but above them all rises the grand dome of a good character, not with the bats and snakes, but up, gentlemen, with eagles in the sunlight. They cannot prevail against a good character. Is it worth anything? If ever I am indicted for any offence and stand before a jury, I hope that I shall be able to prove as unsullied a reputation as Daniel W. Munn has proved. And when I read those letters, not only saying that his character was good, but adding "above reproach," it thrilled me and I thought to myself then, "if ever you get in trouble will anybody certify as splendidly and as grandly to your reputation?" There is not a man of this jury that can prove a better reputation. There is not a judge on the bench in the United States that can prove a better reputation. There never was and there never will be an attorney at this bar that can prove a better reputation. There is not one in this audience that can prove a better reputation. And yet we are told that that splendid fabric called a good character cannot stand for a moment against a word from a gratuitous villain—not one moment.

Such, gentlemen, is not the law of this country. Such, gentlemen, never will be the law of this land or of any other. I deny it, and I hurl it back with scorn. A good character will stand against the testimony of all the thieves on earth. A good character, like a Gibraltar, will stand against the testimony of all the rascals in the universe, no matter how they assail it. It will stand, and it will stand firmer and grander the more it is assaulted. What is the use of doing honestly? What is the use of working and toiling? What is the use of taking care of your wife and your children? Where is the use, I say, of being honest in your business? What is the use of always paying your debts as you agree? What is the use of living for others? Character is made of duty and love and sympathy, and, above all, of living and working for others. What is the use of being true to principle? What is the use of taking a sublime stand in favor of the right with the world against you? What is the use of being true to yourself? What is the use, I say, if all this character, if all this noble action, if all this efflorescence of soul can be blasted and blown from the world simply by a word from the mouth of a confessed felon? And yet we are assured here in this august tribunal, in a Federal court of the United States, where the defendant stands under the protection of the the Constitution of his country, that his character is absolutely worthless.

They say, "Why don't you bring somebody to impeach Mr. Jacob Rehm?" Why? because he has impeached himself.

To impeach a man is the last method. If he tells an improbable story, that impeaches him. If he tells an unnatural story, that impeaches him. If you prove he has sworn a different way, that impeaches him. If you show he has stated a different way, that impeaches him. What is the use of impeaching him any more? That would be a waste of time.

Now, gentlemen, I say to you, and I say to you once for all, I want you to get out of your minds and out of your hearts any prejudice against this man on account of these times. I understand now that in every man's pathway hiss and writhe the serpents of suspicion. I understand now that every man in high place can be pointed at with the dirty finger of a scurvy rascal. I understand that. I understand that no matter how high his position is, that any man, no matter how low, how leprous he may be, what a cancerous heart he may have, he can point his finger at the man high up on the ladder of fame, and the man has to come down and explain to the wretched villain. I understand that; but these prejudices I want out of your mind. I want you to try this case according to the evidence and nothing else. I want you to say whether you believe the testimony of these conspirators and scoundrels. I want you to say whether you are going to take the testimony of that man, and if you bring in a verdict of guilty I want you to be able to defend yourselves when you go to the defendant and tell him: "We found you guilty upon a man's testimony who admitted that he was a thief: who admitted that he was a perjurer; who admitted that he hired others to swear lies, and who committed crimes without number year after year." I want you to say whether that is an excuse to give to him. Is it an excuse to give to his pallid, invalid wife? Is it an excuse to give to his father eighty years old, trembling upon the verge of the grave: "I sent your son to the penitentiary upon the evidence of a convicted thief"? I say is it an excuse to give to his weeping wife? Is it an excuse to give to his child: "I sent your father to the penitentiary upon the evidence of Jacob Rehm"? There is not one of you can go to the child, or to the sick wife, or to the old man, or to the defendant himself, and without the blush of shame say: "I sent you to the penitentiary upon the evidence of Jacob Rehm." You cannot do it. It is not in human nature to do it.

Now, gentlemen, there is one other thing I want to say. Suspicion is not evidence. Suspicious circumstances are not evidence. All the suspicion in the world, all the suspicious circumstances in the world, amount not to evidence. I want to say one more thing. They say that the testimony of a thief ought to be corroborated. By whom? another thief? No. Because that other thief wants corroboration, and that other thief would want corroboration, and so on until thieves ran out, which I think would be a long time in this particular community at this particular time. Understand that whatever one thief swears, that it is not corroborated because another thief swears to the same thing, and upon the point upon which Judge Doolittle dwelt so splendidly he must be corroborated upon the exact point. For instance, Mr. Munn went to his house, Mr. Munn went to his office, and another man says, I saw him there. That is not corroboration. He must be corroborated in the fact that he gave him the money, not that Munn went to his house—not that he had an opportunity to give him the money—not that he was there, but he must be corroborated as to the exact, identical point that makes the guilt.

Now, gentlemen, I am going to leave this case with you. I feel a great interest in it. The defendant feels an infinite interest in it, infinite, I tell you. It is all he has on earth, all he has is with you. You are going to take his hopes; you are going to take his aspirations; you are going to take his ambition; you are going to take his family; you are going to take his child; you are going to take everything he has in this world into your power. It is a fearful thing to take this responsibility. I know it. But you are going to take it—his future, everything he has dreamed and hoped for, everything that he has expected to attain—his character, everything he has that is dear to him, and you are going to say "Not guilty," or you are going to cover him with the mantle of infamy and shame forever; you are going to disgrace his blood; you are going to bring those that love him down with sorrow to their graves; you are either going to do that or you are going to say, "We will not believe the testimony of self-convicted robbers and thieves." And, gentlemen, I ask you, I implore you, I beseech you, more than that, I demand of you that you find in this case a verdict of "Not guilty." Put yourself in his place. Do you want to be convicted on that kind of testimony? Do you want to go to the penitentiary with that kind of witnesses against you? Do you want to be locked up on that kind of testimony? Do you want to be separated from your wife or your child on that kind of evidence? Do you want to be rendered infamous during your life upon the testimony of such men as Golsen and Conklin and Rehm? Do you? Do you? Do you? Does any man in the world imagine that twelve honest men can be found that can rob another of his citizenship, of his honor, of his character, of his home, and of his entire fortune, simply upon the testimony of such scoundrels? No, gentlemen. For myself, for this defendant, I have no fear. All I ask is that you will give to this evidence the weight that it deserves. All I ask of the prosecuting attorney in this case is that he do his duty. All I ask of him is to state just as nearly as he can, as I have no doubt he will, the evidence in the case. All I ask of him is that he give to all these circumstances their due weight, and no more. I ask him to fight for justice and not for his reputation. I ask him to fight for the honor of the Government. I ask him to fight for the complete doing of justice, if he can, but I hope he will leave out of the case all idea that he must win a case or that I must lose a case. We are contending for too great a stake. Personally, I care nothing about it, whether I make or lose what you please to call reputation in this affair. I care everything for my client. I care everything for his honor, and more than that, gentlemen, I love the United States of America. I love this Government, I love this form of government, and I do not want to see the sources of government poisoned. I do not want to see a state of things in the United States of America whereby a man can be consigned to a dungeon upon the testimony of a robber and thief, simply upon a political issue, simply by the testimony of some man who wishes to purchase immunity at the price of another's liberty and honor.