A. I was persecuted in a way that they would not give me any water.
Q. Did you call for water?
A. Yes, and it was denied me; everything was denied me. From loss of blood and all that I became unconscious; and about five o’clock in the morning, when I could get a little rest, I was routed out from my bed and told to get ready; then I asked the privilege of getting something to brush off my clothes and my shoes, and after paying a little for it, I did get it; and I was taken out by these two same men that had arrested me. Now, before I proceed any further, will you let me go back a little?
Q. Yes.
A. All the five hours I was kept a prisoner at police headquarters with Inspector Williams standing over me, I might say, with drawn baton, two detectives were up at my house, which shows this was a put-up job and conspiracy to degrade me; from quarter after seven or half-past seven, from the time this happened two detectives were up at my house bullying my wife and scaring her to death, and all this time they knew I was down in the hands of Inspector Williams. Inspector Williams told me this with great glee as I was about to be taken away. I said, “You must have no heart.” I said, “I don’t mind the persecution I have been subjected to, but I don’t wish to have that inflicted on my wife and children; they will go crazy. I beg you to telephone the station-house, and have those brutes taken out of my house;” and he did, but they were there up to midnight, and all these five hours in my house bullying my wife and sending my children into hysterics.
Q. You went to Court the next morning, did you?
A. Yes, sir. I begged then of the men that they would allow me to buy a pair of glasses more or less to conceal my lacerated face. I was in a terrible state. They refused until I got very near the place and I said, “I will make trouble for somebody if I go in this condition;” and they let me buy a large pair of blue goggles, and I sent for Counsellor Charles T. Duffy, who is at present justice of the peace in Long Island City, and I told him what happened to me, and he said, “These people are too much for me; I will go and get somebody to assist you. What do you think of Mr. Hummel?” I said, “Do what you like about it; have Mr. Hummel.” I paid him a retainer fee, and he said, “These are infernal brutes, and we ought to break them.” I said, “I am prepared to do what you tell me.” When the case was brought up it was laughed out of Court; there was no case for me or my men. They first had me to get bondsmen before the thing was tried; but there was no case tried—there was no case to try. Hummel said, “What have you against this man; he has not destroyed any documents.”—Vol. iv., p. 4,520.
Mr. Costello was taken home, and laid up in bed for five days. His face had to be sewn up. The doctor, who, by-the-bye, was Mr. Croker’s brother-in-law, certified that the injury to the face had been produced by brass knuckles, the cut being too severe to have been produced by the simple fist. He was threatened with erysipelas, but, fortunately, recovered.
I should have mentioned that while Mr. Costello was being taken into the station-house all bloody and muddy, his book-keeper came to obtain access to him. Captain McLaughlin stopped him, pulled open his overcoat, and searched his pockets.
“What is this for?” cried Stanley. The Captain made no answer, but continued the search. “What does this mean?” angrily asked Stanley.