THE ARDLAMONT MYSTERY. T HE Ardlamont trial is a sharp object-lesson
in the difference between violent presumption and solid evidence. We do not suppose Mr. Monson's closest friends would deny that when his trial began there was a violent presumption that he had been concerned in the death, by shooting, of his pupil, Cecil Hambrough. The lad, to begin with, had died in Monson's presence of a gunshot wound, and that wound, however inflicted, was in the back of the head. The only spectators of the event were the prisoner Monson and a man supposed to be named Scott, and while Monson's wife had an assigned insurance of 820,000 on Cecil Ham- brough's life, Scott had disappeared on the day of the death out of police ken. Those facts were sufficient to raise a pre- sumption that Monson had some connection with the death, and when it was further known that Monson had" financed" Cecil Hambrough and his father, that he had given confused or contradictory accounts of the tragedy, that he had mis- described Scott, and that on the day preceding the death he and Cecil Hambrough had been in a boat which suddenly sank or upset, the presumption became a violent one. Every one expected that the facts would be proved by the Crown, and that being proved the Court of Session would have no hesitation in convicting and sentencing the accused. As the trial proceeded, the presumption became more violent than ever, for the facts, as we have stated them, were proved up to the hilt. There was positive evidence that Cecil Hambrough died as alleged, that Monson was with him, that the alleged assignment of an insurance existed, that Scott had dis- appeared, and that on the previous day the dead man, while in company with Monson, had been nearly drowned. Nevertheless, the jury found a verdict of "Not proven," and we do not believe that any competent person who has read the Lord Justice Clerk's summing-up of the evidence can doubt that the verdict was correct. The testimony was all presumption, and not evidence. The facts were all correct, but there was nothing whatever except his presence on the ground to connect them with the accused. It was alleged, for instance, that the motive for the crime was to obtain the in- surance money, but it was shown that Monson could not have obtained it. Cecil Hambrongh being a minor, his assignment was invalid, and the money would pass at his death, not to either of the Monsons, but to his own father, It was possible, of course, as a guess, that Monson did not know this, but there was no evidence of that ignorance, and a violent presumption against it, for the whole course of his history, as related in Court, showed Monson a man over-versed in financial trickery and financial law. Indeed, that was one of the points on which counsel for the Crown specially relied. Yet if Monson knew the law, all certainty as to the motive of the crime, if there was crime, disappeared, to be replaced by inadmissible guesses that Monson might have hoped, as the insurance office knew Hambrough's age, to be paid without demur, even at the risk of an action for the money sure to be instituted by the true heir, if the facts were ever revealed. Such guesses are not evidence, or anything approaching it. Then as to the circum- stances of death, the experts differed so strongly that both Judge and jury felt the uncertainty to be irremovable, more especially as one witness, not impeached on either side, showed conclusively that an accidental wound from behind, endured while carelessly carrying a gun, might occur, and had actually occurred to himself personally. Then as to Scott. Scott's disappearance was, of course, the mystery of the case, and told heavily against the accused. If he had dis- appeared, it was argued, be had fled; and if he had fled, what should he flee for except his consciousness of participation in a crime A That sounds logical ; but there was not one tittle of evidence in support of it. That Scott had gone to Glasgow on the day of Cecil Hambrough's death, and then disappeared, was certain; but he might have disappeared for other reasons —might be biding from some other charge, might be at sea on board a sailing-ship, or might be dead when the hue and cry was raised. There was literally nothing but guesswork to connect him with the murder, not even the carrying of a gun, or the hope of any profit from Cecil Hambrough's death, while there was one strong a priori presumption against the belief put forward on the part of the Crown. No murderer wants wit- nesses. If Monson was guilty, his summoning, or permitting Scott, who might betray him or blackmail him, to witness the deed was absolutely unintelligible, nearly impossible—except on a single supposition, which we do not give because there is not a particle of evidence for it ; because there was no reason for it, for Monson's nerves are steel; and because it was not so much as asserted by the prosecution. The Scott episode, considered as evidence, was the weakest part in the whole chain of testimony. And, finally, as to the boat. It was proved that there was a hole in the boat, and that the plug came out, and that Hambrough fell into the water ; but as to who made the hole or how the plug came to fail, there was not a word of testi- mony, verbal or indirect. Monson might have made the hole, or Scott, or any John Smith,—the only facts certain being that Cecil Hambrough was not drowned, and had no suspicion that he had been attacked. The case for the prosecution consisted in fact of more or less probable guesses, upon which the jury could hardly decide ; and accordingly they brought in the verdict which means just that,—namely, " Not proven." Had they been trying the case in England, they must have acquitted the accused, and in returning the verdict they did, they went to the very verge of justice. There is a mystery surrounding the case still; but the mystery has not been shown to arise from any definite act of Monson's, except his advice to Hambrough to effect the insurances, which might have been inspired by a different motive, a wish to get something out of the estate even if Hambrough should accidentally die before he could sign profitable bonds.
We are not, of course, asserting that Monson or Scott or anybody else is innocent of the death of Cecil Hambrough. We know no more about that sad event or its causes than the jury did, which, so far as solid evidence goes, was just nothing at all, and only mention the case because the habit of con- sidering presumption equivalent to evidence is growing upon everybody. It must grow while publicity increases so fast. The stories upon which the majority base their beliefs as to facts, and especially as to personal facts, nine times out of ten have their groundwork in presumptions more or less violent. Nobody cross-examines reporters or correspondents, while interviewers would as soon strike the persons inter- viewed as put them on their oaths, or even imply with any clearness that they did not believe them. Of course much of this is inevitable, exact evidence being usually unattainable even as to the most ordinary facts—reports of deaths, for example, which we all accept from the Times with- out even thinking of the evidence—but it ought to make us much more careful than we are in giving full credence to any statement whatsoever. Provisional belief or disbelief is a most healthy state of mind even as regards spooks, and as regards men it is almost essential to Hound judgment. We are always seeing stories, especially about Kings and statesmen, which greatly affect the minds of whole nations, which are sometimes true and sometimes false, but which, in either case, rest not upon evidence, but upon presumption,—that is, upon an induction from alleged facts the accuracy of which has never been proved. 'he career of one of the ablest men in our genera- tion, Prince Jerome Napoleon, was broken in that way, all France doubting his personal courage, upon evidence which a court-martial might have instantaneously disproved. Such beliefs, accorded without solid evidence, constantly deflect the course of affairs, and sometimes work the irreparable kind of mischief which, but for an able Judge and a patient jury, popular presumption would have worked in the case of the man accused of the Ardlamont murder. We use the word " mischief " with no intention of implying complete belief in Monson's innocence. We have no such certainty any more than the jury had, but the point is not our certainty or the jury's, but the evidence against the accused, and except the fact that he was on the spot when the death occurred, there was practically none.
Previous page
