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.
"Did you tell him that Munn never was in it--that Munn was innocent?"
"No."
We then asked him,
"Did he tell you that?" "He did."
We say to Burroughs,
"In 1874, in 1873, in 1872, did Rehm tell you that Munn was not in it?"
"He did."
That is another idea I suppose of corroboration.
Q. Mr. Rehm, how much money did the house of Dickenson &c Leach give
you? A. Twenty-five thousand dollars.
Q. Will you swear they did not give you thirty? A. I will.
Mr. Leach on the stand:
Q. How much money did your house give Rehm? A. Between forty thousand
and fifty thousand dollars.
Another instance of corroboration.
We then called Mr. Burroughs upon the stand. He belonged to the same
house:
Q. How much money did you give Jacob Rehm? A. Fifty-two thousand
dollars.
Another instance of corroboration.
Q. Mr. Rehm, did Mr. Abel ever give you any money? A. Yes, sir.
Q. How many times? A. Once.
Q. How much? A. Five hundred dollars.
Q. Will you swear it was not a thousand? A. Yes.
Mr. Abel take the stand.
Q. Did you ever pay Jacob Rehm any money? A. Yes.
Q. How often? A. Once.
Q. How much? A. Two thousand dollars.
And that is another instance of the corroboration of Jacob Rehm. And
when a man is thus corroborated, gentlemen, his reputation for truth and
veracity "spreads like sunlight all over the city of Chicago." There was
not a circumstance, there was not a statement made by Mr. Rehm except it
was made in the presence of Bridges, who is in Canada; of Irwin, who is
in his grave, or in the presence of the defendant, who stands here with
his mouth closed--not one solitary circumstance, with those exceptions,
that has not been contradicted. Can you believe this man? Can you
believe this man who has been contradicted by every one brought upon the
stand? Can you take his word after he has sworn as he has? I tell you,
gentlemen, you cannot do it, and as Judge Doolittle told you, if there
is an infamous crime in the world, it is the crime of perjury. All the
sneaking instincts; all the groveling, crawling instincts unite and
blend in this one crime called perjury. It clothes itself, gentlemen, in
the shining vestments of an oath in order that it may tell a lie.
Perjury poisons the wells of truth, the sources of justice. Perjury
leaps from the hedges of circumstance, from the walls of fact, to
assassinate justice and innocence. Perjury is the basest and meanest and
most cowardly of crimes. What can it do? Perjury can change the common
air that we breathe into the axe of an executioner. Perjury out of this
air can forge manacles for free hands. Perjury out of a single word
can make a hangman's rope and noose. Perjury out of a word can build a
scaffold upon which the great and noble must suffer. It was told during
the Middle Ages and in the time of the Inquisition, that the inquisitors
had a statue of the Virgin Mary, and when a man was brave enough to
think his own thoughts he was brought before this tribunal and before
this beautiful statue, robed in gorgeous robes and decked with jewels,
and as a punishment he was made to embrace it. The inquisitor touched a
hidden spring; the arms of the statue clutched the victim and drew him
to a breast filled with daggers. Such, gentlemen, is perjury, and if you
take into consideration the evidence of this witness when you retire to
the jury-room, you, in my judgment, will commit an outrage. Every man
here should spurn that man from the threshold of his conscience as he
would a rabid cur from the threshold of his house.
Is there any safety in the world if you take the testimony of these men,
especially when character avails nothing? Is there any safety in human
society if you will take the testimony of a perjured man? Is there any
safety in living among mankind if this is the law,--if the statement
of a confessed conspirator makes the character of a great and good man
worthless? For one I had rather flee to the woods and live with wild
beasts and savage nature.
Gentlemen, I know that you will pay no attention to that kind of
testimony. I know it. I know that you cannot do it. And why? You know
that that man is swearing a lie for the purpose of protection. You know
that that man is swearing a lie under the smile of the Government of the
United States. You know it. You know he expects a benefit from it. You
know it. When the other witnesses, Burroughs and Hesing, that swear
here--understand that they are swearing beneath a frown. Understand that
they know that no mercy will be extended to them by the attorneys that
they have offended. Understand that, and when you understand that a man
is swearing to protect himself, and when he is a man that will swear to
a lie for money, of course he will swear to a lie to keep himself out of
the penitentiary, or to shorten his time--I say, when you know a man is
placed in that condition, you have no right to give the least weight to
his testimony, not one particle.
What more, gentlemen. Why, they have another witness, and he has
sworn nothing. He has sworn nothing that has anything to do with this
conspiracy one way or the other. Nothing! The only evidence against the
defendant, I tell you, is the evidence of Mr. Jacob Rehm.
The defendant, gentlemen, was an officer of the revenue for several
years. When he came to Chicago, in 1871, the district attorney said the
distillers were here in full blast making illicit whiskey. If he had
read the evidence he knew better; if he had not, he had no business
to make any statement about it. In 1871, when the defendant came here,
according to the testimony of all these men, the distilleries were
running straight, and the rascality did not commence until the fall of
1872, when Jacob Rehm sold protection to these distillers. The defendant
had been here a year before any frauds were committed. He was then
supervisor of internal revenue up to May, 1875. During that time he did
many official acts; during that time he wrote hundreds and thousands of
letters; during that time he made hundreds and hundreds of visits to
all these establishments. They have searched the records; they have had
every nook and cranny looked at by a hired detective, and all that they
can possibly bring forward is the beggarly account presented in this
case: First, that there were four or five barrels of rum without the ten
cent stamps, and that, you know, is a thing that ought to send a man to
the penitentiary; next, twenty-five barrels of which the stamps had not
been scratched, but about which there was no fraud. Ought a man to be
sent to the penitentiary because he does not seize a house when there
has been a technical violation without any fraud? A supervisor that will
do it ought to be kicked out of office; he ought to be kicked out of the
society of honest and decent men, and if this defendant was satisfied
from the story of Roelle and Junker that there had been no fraud
committed by leaving the stamps on the twenty-five barrels unscratched,
and had seized that house, that would have been an act of meanness, an
act of oppression, which I do not believe even a Government attorney
would uphold unless he was hired in the case. Now, what next did he do?
The next thing he did he went to Golsen & Eastman. Gentlemen, I do not
care to speak much of Golsen. If there ever was a man utterly devoid of
such a thing as principle, if there ever was a man that would read the
statute against stealing, and stand in perfect amazement that anybody
ever thought of making such a statute, it certainly must be Golsen. You
heard him, and he is the man that said he told lies in business; he
is the man that said he did not think it was wrong to swear lies in
business, and his business now is to keep out of the penitentiary; that
is his principal business, that is one of the gentlemen they have hired,
that is one of the gentlemen they have brought forward here to offend
the nostrils of decent men. Now, then, he went to Golsen & Eastman.
Judge Bangs told you in his speech that Golsen then and there explained
his infamy to Munn.
If there is anything which makes my blood boil it is to have the
evidence misstated for the purpose of putting a man in the penitentiary.
I never will make a misstatement to add to my reputation.
I recollect that evidence so perfectly. I recollected it so clearly
that it shocked me when he stated that the man Golsen explained all his
rascality and villainy to Munn. Why, I never heard of such evidence.
What was it? It was said by Mr. Ayer in the opening that in the presence
of Munn, Golsen said to Bridges, "It is not now all right," or something
like that, "but I can make it right," or that he said in the presence
of Munn, to Bridges, something that should have put Munn on his guard.
I heard that, and I heard Golsen, when he came on the stand, say that he
said that to Bridges, and you will bear me out when I say that I asked
him in his cross-examination, "Did Munn hear it? Did you say it thinking
that Munn did hear it?" and he did not pretend any such thing. He did
not pretend it, and I tell you I was hurt, I was touched, I admit it,
when Judge Bangs made the statement. I have an interest in this case. I
am not only an attorney in this case, but, gentlemen, I am proud to
say I am the defendant's friend. I am more than his attorney; I am his
friend, and when an attorney makes a statement like that I must say
it shocks me. Golsen did not swear that he explained his villainy to
Munn--not a word of that kind or character. On the contrary he simply
said he told this to Bridges, not to Munn, and that Munn did not hear
it.
What more? Col. Eastman was there at the same time.
Col. Eastman says he did everything he could to impress upon Mr. Munn
that it was an honest transaction. What more? Then he went through the
rectifying-house like an honest man. How did he act? Like an honest man.
Did he act like somebody trying to cover up a fraud? No, he acted like
an honest man, and I tell you up to that time Mr. Eastman had borne
a good reputation--a good character in the state of Illinois. Munn
believed what he said. He believed there had been an accident. Munn
believed they made the charge in the books not for the purpose of
covering up a fraud, but for the purpose of making the books agree with
the facts. So much for that.
I do not recollect any others. I do not recollect any others that amount
to anything--that can throw the slightest suspicion on this defendant.
If he were upon trial now for failing to make a report; if he were on
trial now for malfeasance or non-feasance or negligence as an officer,
it would be proper to bring all these things before this jury, but that
is not the case. He is here for entering into a conspiracy to defraud
the Government, and these things that they have shown outside,--and it
is perfectly amazing to me they have not shown more,--it is perfectly
amazing to me that a man could be in that position the years he was
without making more mistakes--I say, all they prove in the world is
(give them their very worst construction), that he was guilty of some
negligence as an officer, but they do not attempt to prove that he was
in a conspiracy with Mr. Jacob Rehm to steal.
The next point, gentlemen, to which I wish to call your attention is the
testimony of Mr. Rehm before the grand jury. You recollect when we put
on Mr. Ward to show what Rehm testified to before the grand jury, that
Mr. Ayer suggested that we had better have the notes. I saw then that
he was extremely anxious for Schlichter to get on the stand. Then we
introduced Mr. Oleson, and he still spoke about having the notes. I
understood that it was a part of his case to have Schlichter brought on
the stand in some way. Now, then, it does not make any difference to
me whether Schlichter swore to the truth or not. Not a particle, not
a particle, but I think he did. But if he did swear a lie, and he will
swear a lie every chance he gets, in the course of time he will get such
a character and such a reputation that a district attorney of the United
States will stand up and say: "Schlichter's reputation is good; it
spreads like sunlight all over the city of Chicago." Now, then, you have
been told by Judge Doolittle all the men who swore that he did swear
before the grand jury, that he did not know of any crookedness. You have
heard the testimony of men who swear that he did swear before the grand
jury that he knew of no fraud. If he did so swear he perjured himself
or he has perjured himself now. But what more? Whether he swore that or
not, he swore this according to their own statements:
Q. At the time you burned your books had you any knowledge that they
contained any evidence of fraud against the Government? A. No, sir.
Now, he knew the distillers used a certain amount of malt to make a
certain amount of high-wines, and he knew the more malt they used the
more high-wines they would have to account for, and if they bought twice
as much malt as was necessary to make the whiskey upon which they paid
the tax, he knew that that was evidence that they had been running
without paying the tax. If it takes a certain amount of malt for a
gallon of high-wines, and his books would show they had used twice as
much malt as they had paid taxes, according to gallons, then he did
know that his books did contain evidence showing that they had committed
fraud. And when he said his books did not, he told what he knew was a
deliberate lie. What more does he say? He says these books were burned
up about the first of May just to get them out of the way,--for no
earthly object except simply to get them out of the way,--and he swears
that he sold to nearly all these distillers malt, and he knew that the
amount of malt sold to each of these distilleries would determine the
amount of whiskey they had made, that is, not into a barrel or into a
gallon, but approximately, and he knew the more malt they used the more
tax they would have to show that they had paid. And he knew that his
books would be evidence against every distiller in the city. He knew
that, and yet he swears here, squarely and fairly, that at the time he
burned his books he did not know that they were of any value as evidence
against these distillers.
Now, gentlemen, I want to call your attention to another thing. When
I asked him, when he was called here on the stand, if he was not asked
about crookedness, whether he was not asked about fraud, at first he
stumbled into telling the truth, as far as that was concerned, as far as
being asked was concerned, and then told a lie as to how he answered it.
Now, let me read it to you; you may have forgotten it. There is nothing
like having these things printed:
Q. Were you sworn before that grand jury by anybody? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Were you asked any question about this whiskey business? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Were you asked by one of the grand jurors whether you knew of any
illicit whiskey being made in this city by any of those distilleries? A.
No, sir.
Q. I ask you in regard to your answer to that, if you did not say you
did not? A. I did not.
Q. What did you say? A. The question was not asked in that way.
Q. Well, wait until I ask you, and then you can tell. Were you not asked
if you knew of any crookedness about whiskey, and didn't you reply "No"?
A. No; I answered "Yes."
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.
One more point, and I have done. I had forgotten it, or I should have
mentioned it before. They have appealed to you all along to say that the
fact that high-wines were so cheap during all this time put Mr. Munn upon
his information, so to speak, that there were frauds. Let me take those
books and let us see. On the 6th day of June, 1874, the tax on spirits
was seventy cents, and the price was ninety-four cents. That made them
get twenty-four cents a gallon for the whiskey. Understand, the tax was
seventy, the price was ninety-four. That made them get twenty-four cents
for the whiskey. Now, then, on the 10th of June it was ninety-six and a
half cents. That made twenty-six and a half for the whiskey. On the 10th
of June, 1874, twenty-six and a half they got for the whiskey. February
11, 1874, ninety-six cents, which made twenty-six cents; and so it went
on in that way, until what? Until the tax was raised from seventy cents
to ninety cents, and what is it now? The tax on whiskey, gentlemen, is
ninety cents, and the price on the 10th day of May, 1876, is one dollar
and seven cents; so that the price of whiskey now is only seventeen
cents above the tax, and at the time that Mr. Munn ought to have known
that everybody was a thief and rascal, the price was twenty-six cents
above the tax, ten cents more than now. From these figures, gentlemen,
you will see it, and how high did it go? The day Mr. Munn was turned out
of office--gentlemen, on the tenth day of May, 1875,--the tax then being
ninety cents, whiskey was worth one dollar and fifteen cents. The day he
was turned out. It was nine cents more than it is today. You are welcome
to all you can make out of that argument. It was worth nine cents more a
gallon above the tax the day he was turned out than it is to-day, and
if Mr. Munn was bound to take judicial notice that there was nothing but
frauds in the district, and every distillery was running crooked, I
say that the officers of the Government are bound to take that notice
to-day, and you must recollect, gentlemen, that it was admitted in
this case that there were frauds all over the country, that there were
distilleries running in St. Louis, in San Francisco, in Milwaukee, in
Peoria or Pekin, in Peoria, I believe, in my town, not a sound has been
heard, and not a solitary man, I believe, charged with fraud--in St.
Louis, in Louisville, in Cincinnati, in all these towns. Now, where was
the whiskey being made that was crooked? Nobody could tell. If there
was a vast amount being made in Cincinnati it would lessen the price in
Chicago, no matter whether the Chicago distillers were running honestly
or not. If there was a vast amount being made in St. Louis it would
lessen the price, no matter whether the other distilleries were running
honestly or not, consequently it was impossible for the supervisor to
tell it.
There is another thing I forgot. During all the time Jacob Rehm was
doing this gratuitous rascality he was one of the bondsmen on the
official bond of Hoyt. He was not only helping Hoyt steal and giving him
all the money, but he was making himself responsible for the money he
stole, and he did not charge any commission on it. He did not charge
for any shrinkage or shortage or anything in the world, but made himself
liable for the uttermost farthing. He was on the bond of Collector
Irwin, called the stamp bond, and so do not forget that he did not only
not take any money, but he went on the acknowledgments of the thieves
that stole it. He not only did not take any himself, but he made himself
liable as a bondsman for what he gave to them. Do not forget these
things.
Now, gentlemen, I believe I have said about all I wish to say to you;
the rest is for you. You must take the case, and, as I said, you do not
want to go off on any prejudice against the kind or the character of
the case. You do not want to go off on the idea that the air is full of
rascality because some of us are to be tried next. We don't know. Let us
try this case fairly and squarely on the evidence, and the next time I
meet you, gentlemen, every one of you will be glad that you found this
defendant not guilty, as you cannot avoid doing.
[The Jury rendered a verdict of "Not Guilty."]