The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll.
Vol. 10.
by Robert G. Ingersoll.
ADDRESS TO THE JURY IN THE MUNN TRIAL.
* The United States vs. Daniel W. Munn, Deputy Supervisor of Internal Revenue, who was indicted under Section 5440 of the Revised Statutes of the United States.
There was an unusual rush to obtain admission to the United States District Courtroom yesterday to listen to the closing arguments of counsel in the Munn whiskey conspiracy trial which has attracted so much attention during the past ten days. The stalwart deputy who guards the entrance to this judicial precinct was compelled to employ his entire strength and power of persuasion to keep the eager, anxious crowd from trespassing on the convenience and dignity of the court. About ten o'clock the Court took the bench, and Col.
Ingersoll walked into the room, took off a broad-brimmed felt hat, which gives the barrister, while he has it on, somewhat the appearance of a full-grown, well-developed Quaker in good standing in the society to which he belongs.
When he has the hat removed, however, the counsellor's appearance undergoes a marked change. He then looks like the crop-haired follower of the house of Montague in the Shakespearean play. He sat down on a crazy old chair which threatened every moment to break down beneath his weight, and listened to the remarks of Judge Doolittle for the remainder of the morning, until it came his time to talk.
Colonel Ingersoll never troubles himself to take notes of anything. What he cannot recollect he does not have any use for.
Judge Doolittle occupied the morning session until the time for adjournment at one o'clock, with a review of the case on the side of the defence. He was followed by Mr. Ingersoll in the afternoon.
At two o' clock the court-room was more crowded than before, and at that hour Mr. Ingersoll appeared in the forum and delivered his speech in behalf of the defendant.--The Times, Chicago, Ills., May 23, 1876.
IF the Court please and the gentlemen of the jury: Out of an abundance of caution and, as it were, an extravagance of prudence, I propose to make a few remarks to you in this case. The evidence has been gone over by my associates, and arguments have been submitted to you which, in my judgment, are perfectly convincing as far as the innocence of this defendant is concerned. I am aware, however, that there is a prejudice against a case of this character. I am aware that there is a prejudice against any man engaged in the manufacture of alcohol. I know there is a prejudice against a case of this kind; and there is a very good reason for it. I believe to a certain degree with the district attorney in this case, who has said that every man who makes whiskey is demoralized. I believe, gentlemen, to a certain degree, it demoralizes those who make it, those who sell it, and those who drink it. I believe from the time it issues from the coiled and poisonous worm of the distillery, until it empties into the hell of crime, dishonor, and death, that it demoralizes everybody that touches it. I do not believe anybody can contemplate the subject without becoming prejudiced against this liquid crime. All we have to do, gentlemen, is to think of the wrecks upon either bank of the stream of death--of the suicides, of the insanity, of the poverty, of the ignorance, of the distress, of the little children tugging at the faded dresses of weeping and despairing wives, asking for bread; of the men of genius it has wrecked; the millions struggling with imaginary serpents produced by this devilish thing. And when you think of the jails, of the almshouses, of the asylums, of the prisons, of the scaffolds upon either bank--I do not wonder that every thoughtful man is prejudiced against the damned stuff called alcohol. And I know that we, to a certain degree, have to fight that prejudice in this case; and so I say, for this reason among others, I deem it proper that I should submit to you, gentlemen, the ideas that occur to my mind upon this subject.
It may be proper for me to say here that I thank you, one and all, for the patience you have shown during this trial. You have patiently heard this testimony; you have patiently given your attention, I believe, to every word that has fallen from the lips of these witnesses, and for one I am grateful to you for it.
Now, gentlemen, understanding that there is this prejudice, knowing at the time the case commenced that it existed, I asked each one of you if there was any prejudice in your minds which in your judgment would prevent your giving a fair and candid verdict in this case, and you all, honestly, I know, replied that there was not. The district attorney, Judge Bangs, stated to you in the opening of this case, for the purpose of preparing your minds for the examination of this testimony, that you must, first of all, divest your minds of sympathy. I do not say that, gentlemen, neither would I say it were I the attorney of the Government of the United States, but I do say this: Divest yourselves of prejudice if you have it, but do not, gentlemen, divest yourselves of sympathy.
What is the great distinguishing characteristic of man? What is it that distinguishes you and me from the lower animals--from the beasts? More, I say, than anything else, human sympathy--human sympathy. Were it not for sympathy, gentlemen, the idea of justice never would have entered the human brain. This thing called sympathy is the mother of justice, and although justice has been painted blind, never has she been represented as heartless until so represented by the district attorney in this case. I tell you there is no more sacred, no more holy, and no purer thing than what you and I call sympathy; and the man who is unsympathetic is not a man. Gentlemen, the white breast of the lily is filthy as compared to the human heart perfumed with love and sympathy. I do not want you to divest yourselves of sympathy, neither do I want you to try the case entirely upon sympathy, but I want you sympathetic enough to put yourselves honestly in the place of this defendant. Now, gentlemen, as a matter of fact, this case resolves itself into simply one point; all the rest is nothing; all the rest is the merest fog that can be brushed from the mind with a wave of the hand, and it is all resolved down to simply one point, and that is: Is Jacob Rehin worthy of credit? Has Jacob Rehm told against this defendant a true story?
Now, that is all there is in this case. The other points that they raise, and which I shall allude to before I get through, are valuable only as they cast a certain amount of suspicion upon the defendant, but the real point is, and the attorneys for the Government know it, Is Mr.
Jacob Rehm's story worthy of credit? Did he tell the truth? Judge Bangs felt that was the only question, and for that reason, in advance, he defended the reputation of Jacob Rehm for truth and veracity; and he made to the jury this remarkable statement: "The reputation of Jacob Rehm for truth and veracity is good. It spreads all over the city of Chicago like sunlight." That was the statement made by the district attorney of the United States. I do not believe that he would swear to that part of his speech. It was an insult to every person on this jury.
It was an insult to this court; it was an insult to the intelligence of every bystander, that the reputation of Jacob Rehm spread like sunlight all over the city of Chicago! My God! what kind of sunlight do you mean?
Think of it!
Now, then, gentlemen, he knew it was necessary to defend the character of Mr. Rehm; he knew it was necessary to defend that statement. He knew that the testimony of Mr. Rehm was the only nail upon which the jury could possibly hang a verdict of guilty in this case.
And now I propose to examine a little the testimony of Mr. Jacob Rehm. I believe it was stated by Judge Bangs that one of the best tests of truth was that a lie was at war with all the facts in the universe, and that every fact standing, as it were, on guard, was a member of the police of the universe to arrest all lies.
Let me state another truth. Every fact in the universe will fit every other fact in the universe. A lie never did, never will, fit anything but another lie made to fit it. Never, never! A lie is unnatural. A lie, in the nature of things, is a monstrosity. A lie is no part of the great circle, including the universe within its grasp, and consequently, as I said before, will fit nothing except another lie. Now, then, to examine the testimony of a witness, you examine into its naturalness, into its probability, because you expect another man to act something as you would under the same circumstances. We have no other way to judge other people except by our own experience and an authenticated record of the experience of others, consequently, when a man is telling a story, you have to apply to it the test of your own experience, and as I say the recorded tests of other honest men.
Now, let us suppose just for a moment that the testimony of Mr.
Jacob Rehm is true. Let us suppose it. It has been stated to you, and admirably stated, by Judge Doolittle,--admirably stated,--that it was the height of absurdity to suppose that a man would do as he did for nothing. But let me put it in another light somewhat. According to the testimony of Mr. Jacob Rehm, he first tried to stop this stealing.
Nobody offered him any money to stop it, but he simply went to the collector, Irwin, and said they were stealing, and that it must be stopped; and thereupon Collector Irwin changed the gaugers for the purpose of stopping the stealing. A few days thereafter, somebody came to him and wanted the stealing to commence, and he told them they would have to pay for it, and the amount they would have to pay for it, and he then went to Collector Irwin, whom he supposed at that time to be a perfectly honest and upright man, and told him, in short, that they wanted to steal, and would give five hundred dollars a month. Irwin said, "Go ahead."
He admits that they did steal. He admits that they made a bargain with him. He admits that that happened, and he assigned all these gaugers and store-keepers. He admits that he did that for two years. He admits that he received at least one hundred and twenty thousand dollars of this money. He admits that in order to carry out this scheme he knew that every distiller would have to sign a lie every time he made a report to the Government. He admits that he knew every gauger would have to swear to a lie at the end of every month in his report of the transactions of each day. He admits that every store-keeper would be guilty of perjury every time he made a report. He admits that he knew that the thing that he was committing for two years was a daily penitentiary offence. He admits that he put himself in the power of all these gaugers and all these store-keepers, and all these distillers and rectifiers,--put it in their power to have him arrested for a penitentiary offence at any moment during the whole two years, and yet he tells you that he did this absolutely for nothing! He tells you every cent he received he divided and paid over; that he never kept a solitary dollar, except it may be for a box of cigars. I want the attorney for the Government to tell this jury that he believes that story. And if he does tell you so, gentlemen, I will give you notice now that you need not believe any other word Mr.
Ayer says--if he says he believes that.
Now, then, what more? He knew that all these men were committing these penitentiary offences, and that he was putting himself in the power of all these men; and what was his motive? What, gentlemen, was his object?
It is impossible for me to imagine. If he got no money, if he made nothing out of this transaction, it is impossible for me to imagine why he embarked in such a course of crime. Why then did he say to you, gentlemen, that he paid all this money over? It was to build up a reputation with you. It was to make you think that whereas he paid this all over, that whereas he did all this business simply to accommodate his friends, that he was worthy of credit in his statement of this case.
He told you that he did not keep a dollar simply to make a reputation with you. What did he want a reputation with you for? So that he would be believed. And what did he want to be believed for? So that he could send Munn to the penitentiary and, as the price of Munn's incarceration, get his own liberty. That is the reason he swore it, and there is no other reason in the world. Is it probable a man would commit all these crimes for nothing? Is it possible that he would hire and bribe other men to commit these crimes for nothing? I ask you; I ask your common sense; I appeal to your brains: Is it probable that he would do all that absolutely for nothing? Is it probable he would lay himself liable to the penitentiary every hour in the day for two years for nothing? There is and can be but one answer to such a question as that. Why, gentlemen, if his statement is true that he did all this for nothing, he is the most disinterested villain, the most self-sacrificing and self-denying thief of which the history of the world gives any record. Is it possible?
Is it possible, I say, that a man would make himself the sewer of all the official rot in this city, in which was deposited the excrement of frauds? Is it possible he would turn himself into a scavenger cart into which should be thrown all the moral offal of the city of Chicago for nothing? Whoever answers that question in the affirmative is, in my judgment, an idiot. Nobody can. Nobody has a mind so constructed that it can lodge an affirmative answer to that question within its brain.
What next? He tells you that Munn was in this plot; and that he, Mr.
Rehm, at the same time was selling protection to these distillers. No distillers--and you know it--would have given him ten dollars a barrel unless they expected protection. He then was engaged in the sale of protection, was he not? Did you ever know of a vender crying down his own wares? Did you ever hear of a merchant crying down the quality of the cloth he wished to sell? Did you ever hear of a grocery man endeavoring to cry down that which he wished you to buy?
Jacob Rehm was selling protection at ten dollars a barrel, and sometimes asking twelve dollars and fifty cents. Was it not natural for him to endeavor to convince distillers that he had plenty of protection to sell? Was it not natural for him to make the distillers believe, "If you will give me ten dollars a barrel you will have perfect protection"?
Would it be natural for him to say, "I will protect you for ten dollars a barrel, and yet I have none of the officers in my pay"? They would say, "What kind of protection have you got, sir?" Would it not be natural for him to make out his protection as good as he possibly could?
Would it not be natural for him to tell you, "I have got all these officers on my side, from the lowest gauger to the gentleman who presides over the internal revenue department at the city of Washington"? The more protection he had the more money he could get, and consequently it would not be natural for him to cry down his own protection.
If Mr. Munn was in it, and if Mr. Munn at that time was the superior officer of the collector, and this man had protection to sell, would he not have said that Munn was also in the ring? When he was trying to sell protection to George Burrows at ten dollars a barrel, George Burrows asked him if Munn was in the ring and he said he was not. If Mr. Munn had been why didn't he say that Munn was? For the reason that that would make his protection appear to be of a better quality, and he could have sold it at a better price. But he said "no," and that they did not need him, because they could manage him, and fool him through this man Bridges, and you will recollect that Bridges was appointed directly by the Government and not by Munn; and Bridges reported directly to the Government and not to Munn. He had nothing to do with him one way or the other, except that they were both in the Revenue Department.
Now, I say if it is possible that a man can cry down his own wares that he wishes to sell, then you may say that the statement of Rehm is natural.
Now, gentlemen, why should he inform Burrows that Munn was about to make a visit here? In order that Burrows might have an opportunity to have his house put in order. Why should he have sent notices to other distillers that Munn was coming? Why should he tell them to put their houses in order? So as to be ready for a visit from Mr. Munn. It may be that the counsel for the Government will say, "This shows the infinite fidelity of this infinite rascal."
Now, I will come to this part of my argument again, but the next thing I will speak of is his story, where he says that he actually paid the money to Munn himself, and if there is anything left of that after I get through with it you are at perfect liberty to find the defendant guilty.
You must recollect that he had a bargain. Now, according to his story, he paid this money to Bridges. You must recollect, according to his story, that Munn at that time was one of the conspirators, had been receiving money--a half of thirty-five thousand dollars or forty-five thousand dollars having gone into his pocket. Recollect that. He goes over one day to the rectifying-house of Roelle & Junker, and there are some barrels found, the stamps of which had not been scratched. Mr. Munn was assured by Roelle that there was no fraud. Roelle still swears that there was no fraud. He was afterward assured by Junker that there was no fraud. Junker still swears that there was no fraud.
Now, what does Rehm come in to swear? Rehm says that Bridges came to him and told him that Munn was going to make trouble--going to make trouble about these barrels that had the stamps on that were not scratched off.
Why did not Rehm say to him, "How is he going to make a fuss? He has got twenty thousand dollars of money already. He is in the conspiracy. He is a nice man to make a fuss! What is he going to make a fuss about?" Would it not have been just as likely that Bridges should have made a fuss as that Munn should have made it? Bridges, according to the testimony of your immaculate witness, was in this no more than Munn--not one particle. And why was Munn going to make trouble? Mr. Rehm has endeavored to answer that question. Mr. Rehm then goes to Munn, sent there by Bridges--it would be very hard to find out why he did not give the money to Bridges,--but he went to Munn and says: "You are going to make some trouble about what you found at Roelle & Junker's?" "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because," he says, "the men at work there--the persons employed there--will make a fuss about it, but they will see it and say that it is overlooked."
Now, that is the reason that Rehm puts in the mouth of the defendant.
Afterward he goes himself to Junker and advises him to give him five hundred dollars, and Junker proposes one thousand dollars, and gives him one thousand dollars, and then he sends for Munn and he comes to his office, and he hands him one thousand dollars.
Now, gentlemen, the reason Munn gave was that the men there would notice it and make a disturbance about it.
Well, then, why not pay the men? What is the use of paying Munn? If this was done to prevent the men working at the rectifying-house from making trouble, why not pay the men? Why not pay the men who were going to make the trouble? Why give an extra thousand dollars to a conspirator to whom you had already given twenty thousand dollars, and who, at that time, according to the testimony of Rehm, was officially rotten? Why not give the money to men who were going to make the trouble? And the next question is this--and if you will recollect the testimony of Roelle, he swears that when the defendant came to the rectifying-house, he (Roelle) was alone. He swears that he was alone. He swears that all the rest had gone to dinner, and according to Roelle's testimony there was nobody there but himself. Where were the men that were going to make this disturbance? Where were the men that were going to notice this oversight? Where were the men that were going to stir up difficulties at Washington or any other place? According to the testimony of Roelle those people were at dinner, and where, gentlemen, is the philosophy of that lie which they have told? Where is it? Why should he have paid Munn money? Why didn't he pay it to Bridges? If it was for the purpose of stopping the men from making trouble, why not pay it to the men they wished to stop? I ask the gentlemen to answer that question. I ask the gentlemen to tell us what men were in danger of making this trouble? Was it the gauger who received six hundred dollars a month for being a liar and a thief? Was it the book-keeper who, every report that he made, swore to a lie? Was there any danger of these liars and of these thieves making a fuss on their own account? Was there any danger of that gauger stopping his own pay? Was there any danger of that book-keeper trying to throw himself out of employment? Was there any danger of any thief or of any conspirator saying anything calculated to bring this rascality to the surface? If a bribed gauger would not tell it; if a bribed book-keeper would not tell it, I ask the Attorney-General for the Government, would Munn tell it, who had received, according to your evidence, over twenty thousand dollars of fraudulent money? Was there any danger of Munn turning state's evidence against himself? Was there not just as much danger of Bridges making a fuss as Munn? Was there not, according to their testimony, the same danger of Rehm himself going to Washington as there would be of a bribed gauger, and of a lying book-keeper? Gentlemen, your story won't hang together. There is no philosophy in it, and it will not fit anything except another lie made on purpose to fit it; and it has got to be made by a better mechanic than Jacob Rehm.
Now, then, gentlemen, what more? The district attorney told you, and I was astonished when he told it--I was astonished--he said that the testimony of Jacob Rehm was not impeached; that, on the contrary, it was sustained by these other witnesses. Had he made such a statement under oath I am afraid an indictment for perjury would lie. He said that the testimony had been sustained rather than impeached. How sustained?
"Mr. Rehm, did you ever give Mr. Burroughs notice that Mr. Munn was coming in order that he might put his house in order?"
Mr. Rehm says, "No."
We then asked Mr. Burroughs, "Did Mr. Rehm ever give you such notice?"
and he corroborates Mr. Rehm by saying "Yes," if that is what you call corroboration.
"Did you tell Mr. Hesing that Munn was not in it?" "I did not." "Mr.
Hesing, did Mr. Rehm tell you that Munn was not in it." "He did."
That is another instance of the attorney's idea of corroboration.
"Did you tell Hesing that Hoyt was innocent?" "I did not." "Mr. Hesing, did Mr. Rehm tell you that Hoyt was innocent?" "He did."
Another corroboration.