IN WHICH PHIPPS IS NOT TO BE FOUND, AND THE GENERAL IS CALLED UPON TO DO
HIS OWN LYING.
At the appointed hour on the following morning, the Court resumed its
session. The plaintiff and defendant were both in their places, with
their counsel, and the witnesses of the previous day were all in
attendance. Among the little group of witnesses there were two or three
new faces--a professional-looking gentleman with spectacles; a
thin-faced, carefully-dressed, slender man, with a lordly air, and the
bearing of one who carried the world upon his shoulders and did not
regard it as much of a burden; and, last, our old friend Sam Yates.
There was an appearance of perplexity and gloom on the countenances of
Mr. Cavendish and his client. They were in serious conversation, and it
was evident that they were in difficulty. Those who knew the occasion of
the abrupt adjournment of the Court on the previous day looked in vain
among the witnesses for the face of Phipps. He was not in the room, and,
while few suspected the real state of the case, all understood how
essential he was to the defendant, in his attempt to establish the
genuineness of the assignment.
At the opening of the Court, Mr. Cavendish rose to speak. His bold,
sharp manner had disappeared. The instrument which he had expected to
use had slipped hopelessly out of his hand. He was impotent. "May it
please the Court," he said, "the defendant in this case finds himself in
a very embarrassing position this morning. It was known yesterday that
Cornelius Phipps, the only surviving witness of the assignment,
mysteriously disappeared at the moment when his testimony was wanted.
Why and how he disappeared, I cannot tell. He has not yet been found.
All due diligence has been exercised to discover him, but without
success. I make no charges of foul play, but it is impossible for me,
knowing what I know about him--his irreproachable character, his
faithfulness to my client, and his perfect memory of every event
connected with the execution of the paper in question--to avoid the
suspicion that he is by some means, and against his will, detained from
appearing here this morning. I confess, sir, that I was not prepared for
this. It is hard to believe that the plaintiff could adopt a measure so
desperate as this for securing his ends, and I will not criminate him;
but I protest that the condition in which the defendant is left by this
defection, or this forcible detention--call it what you will--demands
the most generous consideration, and compels me to ask the Court for
suggestions as to the best course of proceeding. There are now but two
men in Court who saw the paper executed, namely, the assignor and the
assignee. The former has declared, with an effrontery which I have never
seen equalled, that he never signed the document which so unmistakably
bears his signature, and that the names of two of the witnesses are
forgeries. I do not expect that, in a struggle like this, the testimony
of the latter will be accepted, and I shall not stoop to ask it."
Mr. Cavendish hesitated, looked appealingly at the Judge, and then
slowly took his seat, when Mr. Balfour, without waiting for any
suggestions from the Court, rose and said:
"I appreciate the embarrassment of the defense, and am quite willing to
do all I can to relieve it. His insinuations of foul dealing toward his
witness are absurd, of course, and, to save any further trouble, I am
willing to receive as a witness, in place of Mr. Phipps, Mr. Belcher
himself, and to pledge myself to abide by what he establishes. I can do
no more than this, I am sure, and now I challenge him to take the
stand."
The Judge watched the defendant and his counsel in their whispered
consultation for a few minutes, and then said: "It seems to the Court
that the defense can reasonably ask for nothing more than this."
Mr. Belcher hesitated. He had not anticipated this turn of the case.
There appeared to be no alternative, however, and, at last, he rose with
a very red face, and walked to the witness-stand, placing himself just
where Mr. Balfour wanted him--in a position to be cross-examined.
It is useless to rehearse here the story which had been prepared for
Phipps, and for which Phipps had been prepared. Mr. Belcher swore to all
the signatures to the assignment, as having been executed in his
presence, on the day corresponding with the date of the paper. He was
permitted to enlarge upon all the circumstances of the occasion, and to
surround the execution of the assignment with the most ingenious
plausibilities. He told his story with a fine show of candor, and with
great directness and clearness, and undoubtedly made a profound
impression upon the Court and the jury. Then Mr. Cavendish passed him
into the hands of Mr. Balfour.
"Well, Mr. Belcher, you have told us a very straight story, but there
are a few little matters which I would like to have explained," said Mr.
Balfour. "Why, for instance, was your assignment placed on record only a
few months ago?"
"Because I was not a lawyer, sir," replied Mr. Belcher, delighted that
the first answer was so easy and so plausible. "I was not aware that it
was necessary, until so informed by Mr. Cavendish."
"Was Mr. Benedict's insanity considered hopeless from the first?"
"No," replied Mr. Belcher, cheerfully; "we were quite hopeful that we
should bring him out of it."
"He had lucid intervals, then."
"Yes, sir."
"Was that the reason why, the next day after the alleged assignment, you
wrote him a letter, urging him to make the assignment, and offering him
a royalty for the use of his patents?"
"I never wrote any such letter, sir. I never sent him any such letter,
sir."
"You sent him to the asylum, did you?"
"I co-operated with others, sir, and paid the bills," said Mr. Belcher,
with emphasis.
"Did you ever visit the asylum when he was there?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you apply to the superintendent for liberty to secure his signature
to a paper?"
"I do not remember that I did. It would have been an unnatural thing for
me to do. If I did, it was a paper on some subordinate affair. It was
some years ago, and the details of the visit did not impress themselves
upon my memory."
"How did you obtain the letters of Nicholas Johnson and James Ramsey? I
ask this, because they are not addressed to you."
"I procured them of Sam Yates, in anticipation of the trial now in
progress here. The witnesses were dead, and I thought they would help me
in establishing the genuineness of their signatures."
"What reason had you to anticipate this trial?"
"Well, sir, I am accustomed to providing for all contingencies. That is
the way I was made, sir. It seemed to me quite probable that Benedict,
if living, would forget what he had done before his insanity, and that,
if he were dead, some friend of his boy would engage in the suit on his
behalf. I procured the autographs after I saw his boy in your hands,
sir."
"So you had not seen these particular signatures at the time when the
alleged assignment was made."
"No, sir, I had not seen them."
"And you simply procured them to use as a defense in a suit which seemed
probable, or possible, and which now, indeed, is in progress of trial?"
"That is about as clear a statement of the fact as I can make, sir;"
and Mr. Belcher bowed and smiled.
"I suppose, Mr. Belcher," said Mr. Balfour, "that it seems very strange
to you that the plaintiff should have forgotten his signature."
"Not at all, sir. On the contrary, I regard it as the most natural thing
in the world. I should suppose that a man who had lost his mind once
would naturally lose his memory of many things."
"That certainly seems reasonable, but how is it that he does not
recognize it, even if he does not remember the writing of it?"
"I don't know; a man's signature changes with changing habits, I
suppose," responded the witness.
"You don't suppose that any genuine signature of yours could pass under
your eye undetected, do you?" inquired Mr. Balfour.
"No, sir, I don't. I'll be frank with you, sir."
"Well, now, I'm going to test you. Perhaps other men, who have always
been sane, do sometimes forget their own signatures."
Mr. Balfour withdrew from his papers a note. Mr. Belcher saw it in the
distance, and made up his mind that it was the note he had written to
the lawyer before the beginning of the suit. The latter folded over the
signature so that it might be shown to the witness, independent of the
body of the letter, and then he stepped to him holding it in his hand,
and asked him to declare it either a genuine signature or a forgery.
"That's my sign manual, sir."
"You are sure?"
"I know it, sir."
"Very well," said Mr. Balfour, handing the letter to the clerk to be
marked. "You are right, I have no doubt, and I believe this is all I
want of you, for the present."
"And now, may it please the Court," said Mr. Balfour, "I have some
testimony to present in rebuttal of that of the defendant. I propose,
practically, to finish up this case with it, and to show that the story
to which you have listened is false in every particular.
"First, I wish to present the testimony of Dr. Charles Barhydt." At the
pronunciation of his name, the man in spectacles arose, and advanced to
the witness-stand.
"What is your name?" inquired Mr. Balfour.
"Charles Barhydt."
"What is your profession?"
"I am a physician."
"You have an official position, I believe."
"Yes, sir; I have for fifteen years been the superintendent of the State
Asylum for the insane."
"Do you recognize the plaintiff in this case, as a former patient in the
asylum?"
"I do, sir."
"Was he ever visited by the defendant while in your care?"
"He was, sir."
"Did the defendant endeavor to procure his signature to any document
while he was in the asylum?"
"He did, sir."
"Did he apply to you for permission to get this signature, and did he
importunately urge you to give him this permission?"
"He did, sir."
"Did you read this document?"
"I did, sir."
"Do you remember what it was?"
"Perfectly, in a general way. It was an assignment of a number of patent
rights and sundry machines, implements and processes."
Mr. Balfour handed to the witness the assignment, and then said: "Be
kind enough to look that through, and tell us whether you ever saw it
before."
After reading the document through, the Doctor said:
"This is the identical paper which Mr. Belcher showed me or a very
close copy of it. Several of the patents named here I remember
distinctly, for I read the paper carefully, with a professional purpose.
I was curious to know what had been the mental habits of my patient."
"But you did not give the defendant liberty to procure the signature of
the patentee?"
"I did not. I refused to do so on the ground that he was not of sound
mind--that he was not a responsible person."
"When was this?"
"I have no record of the date, but it was after the 12th of May,
1860--the date of Mr. Benedict's admission to the asylum."
"That is all," said Mr. Balfour. Mr. Cavendish tried to cross-examine,
but without any result, except to emphasize the direct testimony, though
he tried persistently to make the witness remember that, while Mr.
Belcher might have shown him the assignment, and that he read it for the
purpose which he had stated, it was another paper to which he had wished
to secure the patient's signature.
Samuel Yates was next called.
"You are a member of our profession, I believe," said Mr. Balfour.
"I am, sir."
"Have you ever been in the service of the defendant in this case?"
"Yes, sir."
"What have you done for him?"
"I worked many months in the endeavor to ascertain whether Paul Benedict
was living or dead."
"It isn't essential that we should go into that; and as the defendant
has testified that he procured the autograph letters which are in the
possession of the Court from you, I presume you will corroborate his
testimony."
"He did procure them of me, sir."
"Did he inform you of the purpose to which he wished to put them?"
"He did, sir. He said that he wished to verify some signatures."
"Were you ever employed in his library at Sevenoaks, by his agent?"
"Yes, sir, I wrote there for several weeks."
"May it please the Court, I have a letter in my hand, the genuineness of
whose signature has been recognized by the defendant, written by Robert
Belcher to Paul Benedict, which, as it has a direct bearing upon the
case, I beg the privilege of placing in evidence. It was written the
next day after the date of the alleged assignment, and came inclosed
from Benedict's hands to mine."
Mr. Belcher evidently recalled the letter, for he sat limp in his chair,
like a man stunned. A fierce quarrel then arose between the counsel
concerning the admission of the letter. The Judge examined it, and said
that he could see no reason why it should not be admitted. Then Mr.
Balfour read the following note:
"SEVENOAKS, May 5, 1860.
"_Dear Benedict:_--I am glad to know that you are better. Since you
distrust my pledge that I will give you a reasonable share of the
profits on the use of your patents, I will go to your house this
afternoon, with witnesses, and have an independent paper prepared, to be
signed by myself, after the assignment is executed, which will give you
a definite claim upon me for royalty. We will be there at four o'clock.
"Yours, ROBERT BELCHER."
"Mr. Yates," said Mr. Balfour, "have you ever seen this letter before?"
Yates took the letter, looked it over, and then said: "I have, sir. I
found the letter in a drawer of the library-table, in Mr. Belcher's
house at Sevenoaks. I delivered it unopened to the man to whom it was
addressed, leaving him to decide the question as to whether it belonged
to him or the writer. I had no idea of its contents at the time, but
became acquainted with them afterwards, for I was present at the opening
of the letter."
"That is all," said Mr. Balfour.
"So you stole this letter, did you?" inquired Mr. Cavendish.
"I found it while in Mr. Belcher's service, and took it personally to
the man to whom it was addressed, as he apparently had the best right to
it. I am quite willing to return it to the writer, if it is decided that
it belongs to him. I had no selfish end to serve in the affair."
Here the Judge interposed. "The Court," said he, "finds this letter in
the hands of the plaintiff, delivered by a man who at the time was in
the employ of the defendant, and had the contents of the room in his
keeping. The paper has a direct bearing on the case, and the Court will
not go back of the facts stated."
Mr. Cavendish sat down and consulted his client. Mr. Belcher was afraid
of Yates. The witness not only knew too much concerning his original
intentions, but he was a lawyer who, if questioned too closely and
saucily, would certainly manage to bring in facts to his disadvantage.
Yates had already damaged him sadly, and Mr. Belcher felt that it would
not do to provoke a re-direct examination. So, after a whispered
colloquy with his counsel, the latter told the witness that he was done
with him. Then Mr. Belcher and his counsel conversed again for some
time, when Mr. Balfour rose and said, addressing the Court:
"The defendant and his counsel evidently need time for consultation,
and, as there is a little preliminary work to be done before I present
another witness, I suggest that the Court take a recess of an hour. In
the meantime, I wish to secure photographic copies of the signatures of
the two autograph letters, and of the four signatures of the assignment.
I ask the Court to place these documents in the keeping of an officer,
to be used for this purpose, in an adjoining room, where I have caused a
photographic apparatus to be placed, and where a skillful operator is
now in waiting. I ask this privilege, as it is essential to a perfect
demonstration of the character of the document on which the decision of
this case must turn."
The Judge acceded to Mr. Balfour's request, both in regard to the recess
and the use of the paper, and the assembly broke up into little knots of
earnest talkers, most of whom manifested no desire to leave the
building.
Mr. Cavendish approached Mr. Balfour, and asked for a private interview.
When they had retired to a lobby, he said: "You are not to take any
advantage of this conversation. I wish to talk in confidence."
"Very well," said Mr. Balfour.
"My client," said Cavendish, "is in a devilish bad box. His principal
witness has run away, his old friends all turn against him, and
circumstantial evidence doesn't befriend him. I have advised him to stop
this suit right here, and make a compromise. No one wants to kill the
General. He's a sharp man, but he is good-natured, and a useful citizen.
He can handle these patents better than Benedict can, and make money
enough for both of them. What could Benedict do if he had the patents in
his hands? He's a simpleton. He's a nobody. Any man capable of carrying
on his business would cheat him out of his eye-teeth."
"I am carrying on his business, myself, just at this time," remarked Mr.
Balfour, seriously.
"That's all right, of course; but you know that you and I can settle
this business better for these men than they can settle it for
themselves."
"I'll be frank with you," said Mr. Balfour. "I am not one who regards
Robert Belcher as a good-natured man and a useful citizen, and I, for
one--to use your own phrase--want to kill him. He has preyed upon the
public for ten years, and I owe a duty not only to my client but to
society I understand how good a bargain I could make with him at this
point, but I will make no bargain with him. He is an unmitigated
scoundrel, and he will only go out of this Court to be arrested for
crime; and I do not expect to drop him until I drop him into a
Penitentiary, where he can reflect upon his forgeries at leisure."
"Then you refuse any sort of a compromise."
"My dear sir," said Mr. Balfour, warmly, "do you suppose I can give a
man a right to talk of terms who is in my hands? Do you suppose I can
compromise with crime? You know I can't."
"Very well--let it go. I suppose I must go through with it. You
understand that this conversation is confidential."
"I do: and you?"
"Oh, certainly!"