LEAVES OF A LIFE.* THOUGH Mr. Montagu Williams's two volumes
are full of curious and interesting matter, it must not be supposed that they are in any real sense a contribution to autobiographical literature. The memoirs of a great criminal lawyer, written with force and insight, would be a priceless possession for all students of human nature. Counsel who spend their lives either in prosecuting or defending persons accused of crime,
• Leaves of a Life: being the Reminiseevees of Montagu Williams, Q.C. 2 vols. London: Macmillan and Co.
have unrivalled opportunities for observing the tragedy of life at first-hand ; and if it ever happens that one of them is endowed with the faculty of transferring his impressions to the public, and has also a desire to make himself famous in the world of letters, we shall have a book fit to rank among the monumental works of biography. If we imagine an Old Bailey lawyer, with the introspective power of a man like the late Rector of Lincoln, face to face with the payohological situa- tions encountered almost daily in a large criminal practice, we can form some idea of the intellectual feast which the present work might have afforded. As it is, Mr. Montagu Williams sewn to have done little more than string together extracts from the scrap-books into which he was doubtless wont to stick the newspaper reports of his important cases. Such "cuttings," and a running comment of biographical anecdotes, make up the greater part of his volumes. But though the book is disappointing if we judge it by what it might have been, it is, as it stands, eminently readable. Its pages contain a lively summary of almost all the causes cilibres of the last thirty years, interspersed with stories and good things col- lected by the author while pursuing his varied career of soldier, actor, playwright, journalist, and advocate. In an age when the oracles of the novel-reader are dumb, it may well claim the fireside hours of February and March.
Of Mr. Montagu Williams's early life, of his marriage, and even of his first brief, we shall leave our readers to inform themselves, and shall proceed to quote a very remarkable case of jewel-robbery, in which he was engaged for the defence. The prisoner, Martha Torpey, "a very good-looking, engaging woman," was exceedingly well dressed, and appeared in Court carrying in her arms "a very pretty baby only a few months old," to whose presence Mr. Montagu Williams attributes the subsequent finding of the jury :—
" The evidence went to show that an assistant from a firm of jewellers in Bond Street, in consequence of a message received at the shop, went to 4 Upper Berkeley Street, taking with him five or six thousand pounds' worth of jewellery. The door was opened by the gentleman who had called at the shop, and who had given his name as Mark Tyrell. He apologised for the absence of his servant, and at once showed the assistant into a room on the ground-floor, whence the two afterwards proceeded to the drawing- room. A photograph of the man was produced in Court. It was alleged to be a photograph of the man Mark Tyrell, who, however, turned out to be Torpey, the prisoner's husband. It appeared that, when the assistant entered the drawing-room, he saw the prisoner sitting there by the fire. She remained seated while he took out of his bag the jewellery that he had brought with him, and which included a necklace of the value of .21,100. The man admired this necklace, and said that he should like his wife to have it, as well as other articles. More jewellery, to the value of £2,600, was extracted from the bag and placed upon the table. Torpey turned to his wife and said : I think your sister ought to see these things. Go and fetch her.' She left the room and returned in a few minutes, remarking that her sister would be down in a moment. She then went quickly up to the assistant, and, getting behind him, placed a handkerchief saturated with something over his face and mouth. Torpey simultaneously rushed forward and seized him, exclaiming : If you move, I will murder you.' In giving his evidence the assistant stated that he then went off into a kind of trance.' On partially regaining consciousness, he found that a couple of straps had been fastened over his body, and that a cloth was tied over his eyes. He heard the man say : 'Quick, Lucy, give me my hat.' The next minute the street-door slammed. After a little while, he managed to remove the straps and bandage, whereupon he broke the window and called for assistance. It appeared that the prisoner had engaged the pre- mises by means of false references. At the time of the robbery, according to the assistant, she was most fashionably attired. Her arrest took place at Southampton. All efforts to trace the husband had been unsuccessful. At the conclusion of the case for the prosecution, I submitted that the fact of the prisoner being in- dicted, not as a femme sole, but as the wife of Torpey, rendered it unnecessary for me to call witnesses to prove the marriage ; and that, as she had acted in the presence, and therefore under the compulsion, of her husband, she was, according to the authorities, entitled to an acquittal. A long legal discussion took place upon the point. The other side contended that as the prisoner had committed violence in placing the handkerchief over the assistant's mouth, she must be held responsible for the act, in spite of the fact that her husband was present. The Recorder ruled that it would be necessary for me to prove that the woman acted under her husband's compulsion. I therefore proceeded to address the jury, strongly commenting on the cowardice of the man who had fled from justice, leaving his wife with a helpless little infant in her arms, to bear the brunt of the robbery which he had planned, and of which he was no doubt at that very moment enjoying the proceeds. The more eloquent I grew, the louder the prisoner sobbed and cried. I thought at the time that this grief was in consequence of the picture I was painting of the brutal husband; but I subsequently learnt from the solicitor that she was grieved because of the abuse I was showering upon the partner of her life, of whom she was exceedingly fond. The woman received a very
good character, and the jury expressed their belief that the whole thing had been prearranged by the husband, and that the prisoner had acted under his coercion, and therefore was not guilty."
The statement that when the handkerchief was thrown over the man's head he immediately went into a trance, is interesting, and raises a curious point. There are many lawyers who are wont to- declare that the evidence given from time to time at criminal trials leaves no doubt that there exists some drug which, when spread upon a cloth and placed over the nose and mouth, immediately produces unconsciousness. On the other hand, the chemists assert that the thing is an impossibility, and that no such compound has ever been discossred. Chloroform and the other recognised anwsthetics require at least three distinct inhalations to produce the loss of sensa- tion. To reconcile this conflict of testimony seems impossible, unless, indeed, we adopt the sensational theory that some camorra among the criminal classes is in possession of a trade secret as yet unknown to science. Probably, however, this notion is too fantastic, and we should rather incline to the supposition that the immediate loss of consciousness is due to something comparable to mesmeric action. Dr. Charcot tells us that one of the ways of instantaneously inducing the mesmeric sleep is to produce a violent sensation of surprise in the patient, by the shock of a sudden noise or the flashing of a bright light.
Is it not possible that a totally unexpected attack, as in the case quoted, mesmerises the victim for the moment, and that then the chloroform on the handkerchief begins to produce a slower form of stupefaction ? The matter is one which Dr. Charcot, who pays special attention to hypnotism in its re- lation-to forensic medicine, might think worth investigating. Though Mr. Montagu Williams quotes the confession of guilt made by Lefroy to the prison chaplain, he adds in an appendix, as an example of his method of advocacy, his very able speech in defence of the murderer. The effect produced by the speech and the announcement of the verdict are thus described by Mr. Montagu Williams "It subseque.itly transpired that, when Lefroy quitted the dock that evening, he was so confident as to the result of the trial being in his favour, that he turned to the gaoler, and said : When I am acquitted, I hope I shan't be mobbed.' Both the Attorney-General and myself had to proceed to London that night. We went up to town in the same railway-compartment, and chatted over the case on the journey. He said to me : You have won your verdict ; that fellow will be acquitted.' I shook my head. I had noticed that, whatever effect my speech might have made upon the jury, the Chief Justice, during its delivery, occupied himself by making copious notes for his summing-up ; and I knew that he intended to answer me on every point. In replying, therefore, to Sir Henry's observation, I said : Wait till to-morrow. You've not heard the Judge yet. Lefroy is a doomed man.' On the following morning, my anticipation as to the nature of the summing-up was fulfilled. It was a most deadly one. His lordship spoke from the sitting of the Court until five-and-twenty minutes to three. The jury, after a short retirement, returned a verdict of Guilty,' and the prisoner was sentenced to death. During the absence of the jury, I noticed that the prisoner, whose life was hanging in the balance, showed symptoms of nervousness for the first time. His hands seemed to come mechanically to his face, his fingers twitched as he tugged at his moustache, and he moved uneasily in his chair, being evidently unable to control his emotion. Once or twice he got up from his seat, leant over the bars of the dock, and addressed a few words to his solicitor, Mr. Dutton ; then, as if by a great effort of will, he sat down again, and was compara- tively calm. When the foreman pronounced the word Guilty,' up rose Lefroy, and, placing his hands behind him, advanced to the rails. He seemed to be altogether at his ease, though pallid. There was a moment, however, when he grasped convulsively at the rails, and swayed to and fro, as though about to fall. But the weakness was only for a moment. The next minute he was himself again, and, folding his arms, he fixed his eyes intently upon the jury. Just before he left the dock, he stretched out his right arm, in a theatrical way, towards the jury, and said : Some day you will learn, when too late, that you have murdered me.' Then, with a firm step, he retired, and disappeared from the public gaze."
Some interesting facts connected with the prisoner are dis- closed in a letter written by Lefroy while in prison, which came into the hands of Mr. Montagu Williams, and which is now for the first time given to the world :— " Monday, October 17th. "My DARLING ANNIE,—I am getting this posted secretly by a true and kind friend, and I trust you implicitly to do as leak you. Dearest, should God permit a verdict of 'Guilty' to be returned, you know what my fate must be unless you prevent it, which you can do by assisting me in this way. Send me (concealed in a common meat pie, made in an oblong tin cheap dish) saw file, six inches or so long, without a handle; place this at bottom of pie, embedded in under crust and gravy. And now, dearest, for the greater favour of the two. Send me, in centre of a small cake, like your half-crown one, a tiny bottle of prussic acid, the smaller
-the better ; this last you could, I believe, obtain from either Drs. Green or Cressy for destroying a favourite oat. =My dezling,believe
• me when I say, as I hope for saleation,,that this last should only be used the last night allowed me by the law to live, if it conxes to that last inctremity. Never, while a chance of life remained, would I use it, but only as a last resource. It would be no suicide in God's sight, I am sure. Dearest, 'l trust this matter to you toaid me. I will face my triaLas an innocent,raan should, and I behove God will restore me to you once more rafter this fearful lesson ; but should he not, the -file would give a chance of escape withlife, while if both failed, I should still save myself from dying a felon's death undeserved. ,By-packing. these, as I say, carefully, gentling with them a tin of milk, &e., no risk will be incurred, as my things are, comparatively speaking, never examined. Get them yourself soon, and—[an indistinct word is here omitted] and direct them in a feigned hand, without any accompanying note. If-..you receive this safely, and will aid me, by return send a posteard, saying : 'Dear P., Captain Lefroy has returned.' Send them by Friday morning at latest. If not PA., get arsenic powder from Hart or other (or through Mrs. B.) ; wrap up in three or four pieces of paper. God bless you, darling. I trust you trust me. I can conceal several small things about me in safety."
We will close our review of the present volumes by quoting the very amusing account given of Mr. Montagu 'Williams's personal experiences in attempting to recover a stolen collie. After much difficulty, and the payment of no at a secret rendezvous with the thieves, he managed to recover his favourite. When the transaction had been completed, the following conversation took place between the criminals and
their victim :—
" I ventured to remark to my two -acquaintances that they must be doing a thriving business, ...R20 being a large sum to receive for the restoration of one dog. The answer I received.was that it was only two quid apiece, as there are ten of us in it, and it is share and share alike.' I then somewhat modestly remarked that, knowing who I was, I thought it rather too bad of them to steal my dog. 'Ah! that's the best of it,' said one of them. ',Lord, Sir, you should have seen how, my pal Bill here did laugh. "Ain't it rather hard," says I, "to take the counsellor's dawg ? " "Not a bit, Jim," says he ; "he's had a good lot out of us, and why shouldn't we get a little out of him ? "
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