TOPICS OF THE DAY

Evening Star, Issue 12333, 25 October 1904, Page 8

TOPICS OF THE DAY

[From Oon Special Coueespondext. j LONDON, September 16. "GOOD-BYE, SUMMER." Summer is gone from us. The brief pageant of sun-shiue and color is over, aud the long night of a London winter once more looms ahead. Tho influence of weather upon tho spirits affects some temperaments Jjiore than others, hub there are very few, 1 fancy, who would welcome mist and fog in preference to sunny skies and the long” gckieu twilight of an English summer. V\ inter is such a lingering business here, and summer such a fitful joy. Six millions of people, as Rudyard Kipling reminds us, ‘ dwell in a city which, during live months of the year, ia bathed in a semi-obscurity, alternating with a profound darkness.” \Ve get used to it, of course—what will mankind not get used to under stress of circumstances? The halcyon days of summer sink into the background of memory, and we breakfast by gaslight aud find our way to work by tho aid of the street lamps as philosophically as though the sun had never been known to penetrate that inky sky. But in the autumn month of September it is not easy to be philosophical. The waning glories of the autumn are too deeply tinged with the melancholy of “falling leaf and fading flower.” Not till the mists of winter have fairly descended upon us can we grow reconciled to the loss of tho summer sun. Now, more than at any other time, do the thoughts of the colonial in London turn longingly to the land “ down mider.” It is springtime out there, he remembers, and soon it will be summer; and at the thought of it the grime and the turmoil of London grow suddenly oppressive. If he is a tourist he decides there and then that it is time to go back, and ho pocks up and goes. The outward-bound steamers are full of returning colonials this month, and I’ll warrant it was the impulse to follow the sun that drove most of them southword. So mnch.for the autumn of our discontent. In a month or two we shall be Lathed in our semi-obscurity, and wondering what all the fuss was about. For it’s really not so bad—when you get used to it! LONDON’S "LOST LEGION. The dreadful plight of the homeless wanderers of London has been a topic of discussion in the Press during tho week. To these poor outcasts the near approach of winter is something more than a sentimental regret; it moans horror piled on horror, a merciless accumulation of fiesh miseries. Even now, while the nights are still fairly mild, the lor of tho homeless is pathetic beyond words. Faint with the want of food, and'worn out with tramping aimlessly about the streets, they crouch in dark corners and doze until the voice of the policeman sends them off again upon their dreary round. For ro sleep in tho streets is not allowed by law, and the outcast must keep moving on unless perchance he enn evade the rangers and seek refuge in one of the. park-s. No one, I should imagine, can live in London without experiencing, at the sight of these human derelicts, the haunting fear that his own future may hold some such dreadful falo in store “I would sooner kill myself,” he may think; but it may not he generally known that destitution can so weaken a man’s power of will as to make him incapable of self-destruction. Many have, known days of prosperity and affluence. who now endure the slow starvation of tho streets, and yet they cling to a life which in reality is notlung but a living death. A journalist who spent a night this week among the outcasts on tire Embankment—their only refuge when the parks mo shut—heard from their line some tragic life, stories. One, a woman well past fifty, had been the wife of a- country clergyman. Her husband committed a crime, and went to gaol, her friends deserted her. and now she is a nameless, penniless wanderer, driven to beg in order to keep body and soul together. A haggard-looking man in tattered clothes had E'en a university graduate and afterwards a schoolmaster. ’Long years of drudgery culminated in the failure of the school, and he came to London to earn a miserable pittance ns a clerk. In a moment of temptation he stole, and since coming cut of prison had been a helples tramp. Another poor waif had been a governess, who rar away to London with the son of her employer. Crnellv deserted by the man, she was left utterly destitute and friendless. “ Sometimes,” she said, “ I beg enough in the streets to buy food and a night’s lodging. More often I have to go starving or live on a few bread-crusts and spend my nights in the open air ” But such lifetragedies might l>e multiplied indefinitely, and the same terrible note of despair is found to run through them all. How to deal with the destitute is one of the most difficult problems of the age, hut it does seem a slur on twentieth-century London that 1,530 starving men and women should tramp the streets each night without a place to lay their heads. “ GROSSLY EXAGGERATED.” “Preport, of my death grossly exaggerated,” is said, to have been Mark Twain’s laconic telegraphic comment on the eulogistic obituary notices that appeared in consequence of an American reporter having killed the great humorist before his time. Mark Twain’s novel and dubious pleasure in reading what men wrote of him with the warning “De Mortius nil nei bonum ’’ before their eyes, has been shared )>y Mr Joseph Carr.’ a well-known Belfast lawyer, wlio holds the appointmentof Sessional' Crown Solicitor for Belfast and Antrim County. He was “killqd” last Sunday, and on the morrow read that Iris demise had occasioned “ deepest regret ” in the offices of several of the leading local journals. From the ‘lrish News’ ho learnt the interesting fact that “the end was not unexpected”; from the ‘‘News Letter’ lie gained some information regarding his “ large and lucrative practive ” ; while he read in the ‘ Whig ’ that “ he had too much of tho milk of human kindness in him. to bo an ideal prosecuting solicitor.” Many of bis friends in Belfast, in tho same profession as himself, sent, telegrams of condolence to the “widow r ,” at the same time, with an eye to the main chance, wired their fitness to fill the “ dead man’s ” shoes. Mr Carr, however, has no intention of dying yet awhile, and expresses a hope that his resurrection in the flesh will be a sufficient compensation to the dear friends whose hopes of preferment have been rudely shattered by his continued existence on earth. My Carr and Mark Twain do riot, be it said, hold a monopoly in rcsnect of premature newspaper deaths. Quito a goodly arrny of men and women have' lived to enjoy their own post-mortem appreciations. When Miss Lottie Collins was reported dead she reassured the public by informing it* that a “ livelier corpse never kicked ”; and the Rev. Cunningham Geikie, of Bournemouth; not long ago assured the editors who had been sitting on his body that. he was “ very much alive, thank you.” Blondin, of Niagara fame, was once sent jacrematnrelv

to his grave behind its snow-white horses;' Captain Mayne Reid was , killed several times by cold type before he yielded up the ghost; Lord Brougham read his virtues and failings in a column of ‘ The Times’; and bir George Berkeley read his obituary appreciation, also in ‘ The Times.’ aloud at his breakfast table. The Earl of Liverpool- received an ambiguous apology once for being interred before ho was dead;' Mr Bancroft, the actor, was buried in print in place of his namesake the historian; and among many others who have seen themselves in the light of immediate posterity have been Mr Leonard Courtney, Mr Augustine Birrell, Mr F. Locker-Sampson, Miss Edna Lyall, Sir Robert, Ball, the astronomer, and G. B. Burgin, the novelist. ADOLPH BECK’S DOUBLE. A portly, well-dressed man of sixtyfive, grey-haired, and wearing a grey moustache, stood in the dock at the Old Bailey on Thursday, and listened in stolid silence to one of the strangest stories known in the annals of crime. It was Adolph Beck’s “ double,” William Thomas alias John Smith, whose resemblance to Mr Back had sent an innocent man to prison besmirched with the other’s evil record, to suffer for crimes he had never committed. Smith was first convicted in 1877. Seventeen years afterwards Mr Beck was sentenced—unjustly, as it now appears—for a similar series of offences, and went to prison bearing the brand of Smith’s conviction. Five years he served in gaol, protesting his innocence from first to last. This year Beck was arrested and actually convicted again for another series of offences similar to those of 1896 and-1877. Soon after, by a fortunate coincidence, the real Smith was arrested, too, on a similar charge, and three out of the five women who had identified Mr Beck as the person who swindled thorn confessed they hhd made a mistake, and that Smith was the man. Adolph Beck, as you know, was then released, his char acter completely vindicated. And now John Smith—the real Smith—stood in toe self-same dock where twenty-six years before he had been sentenced, awaiting his punishment. The prosecuting counsel related the story of Smith’s adventurous life. He had travelled widely in three continents—Europe, America, Australasia he had been a dental surgeon, an army officer, a civilian doctor, manager of a jewellery firm, and a pensioner in the Austrian Army. His known aliases had numbered at least eight, ranging from “John Smith” to “Lord de Vvilloughby” and “ Earl of Wilton.” His connection with Australia. began in 1884, when ho went to Adelaide, and there became intimately known to a man named Day, who spoke of him as passing under tne name of August Wilhelm Meyer. Ho practised there'as a doctor, had a lucrative business, and lived in luxurious style until his departure in 1890 for Europe, where, as he said, he intended to study the Koch treatment in Berlin. It is also said that Smith was at one time in New Zealand, and, indeed, he seems to have left his trail all round the world. He was in London in 1896 when the series of frauds upon women for which Adolph Beck was wrongfully imprisoned were committed. He was also in London this year when Beck was again arrested for another series of petty frauds. With these offences the Court on Thursday did not deal. Smith did not plead guilty to the crimes for which Beck was convicted in 1896 and 1904, and said not a word about them. But the Judge referred to them in his address to the prisoner, who had pleaded guilty to the charges upon which he was arrested, and had admitted that he was the John Smith of 1877. “ If,” said Mr Justice Phillimore, “you were the author of either or both of these sets of crimes of which Adolph Beck was convicted, you are very bad indeed, and you have added to your offences by allowing an innocent man to suffer in your stead. I cannot help thinking that, at any rate as regards the later series of offences—which correspond very closely to tho time when you were in London—l cannot help thinking that you are the real person guilty of those offences. There is no reason particularly that I see of supposing that you were the author of the earlier series of offences except that you were in London at- the time (although in your first confession you concealed that fact), and that one would hope-there wore not two persons who wore guilty at the same time of this particularly mean and, I am glad to say, novel form of fraud.” The Judge, however, dealt with the prisoner only in respect of the offences of which he stood charged. “ Many, many years ago,” ho said, “you had a very severe sentence, which ought to be a lesson to you, but now in youi( old age you are found returning to your old tricks. The sentence upon you is the same as the previous sentence—to be keptin penal servitude for five years.” A JUDGE’S APOLOGIA. Apropos of the Beck case, the Recorder of London, before whom ho was originally tried, has found it advisable to make a public explanation of the part he took in the unhappy business. The fact of an English Judge writing to the Press in extenuation of his action on the Bench is so unique, that I make no apology for transferring Sir F. F’ulton's “apologia,” to your columns. “ The question whether Adolf Beck was John Smith was never at any time in issue in tho trial before me. The Treasury. represented by Mr Horace Avory, threw him over from tho first. They deliberately tried the indictment for misdemeanor, in which the previous conviction was not charged. Mr Gill, for the defence, called several witnesses to Beck's character, which entitled Mr Avory at once to prove the previous conviction. He did not attempt to do so, or to call bis character in question in any way. The only conclusion I could draw was that the Treasury had satisfied themselves either that Bock was not Smith at all, or that they were not in a position to prove that he was. There were four further indictments on the file of the Court, charging four of tho cases as felony, and in each indictment alleging the previous conviction. After Beck's conviction on the misdemeanor indictment, Mr Avory applied for a. postponement of these cases to the next session, stating that he should advise the Public Prosecutor to apply to the AttorneyGeneral to enter a nolle prosequi. In due course a nolle prosequi was entered, and tho indictments thus disposed of so far as tho file of the Court was concerned. In acting as I did 1 followed the ordinary and well-established practice, and any other Judge must have acted in a precisely similar ' manner. “ 1 - now turn to the facts in the actual case tried before me. The indictment was for the misdemeanor of obtaining various articles of jewellery by false pretences fromten different women on ten different occasions between December, 18S4. and November, 1895, and contained ten separate counts. All the women swore most positively to the identity of Beck, and picked him out in every case from ten or twelve others, and, with two or three exceptions, they were entirely unshaken in cross-exami-nation. Mr Gift desired to cross-examine Mr Guerin, so as to raise the issue that, the writing in the Smith case being the same as the writing in Beck's case, according to Mr Guerin’s evidence before the magistrate, the man who committed the one crime must have committed fho other. Guerin had sworn'to tho best of his belief, having Beck’s admitted writing before him, that all the documents in the case before me were in Beck’s handwriting. If he was doing wrong in this, of what value was his evidence as establishing in whose handwriting the Smith documents were? “ I may here state that in my summingup I specially cautioned the jury against relying too much on the expert evidence as to handwriting. I carefully explained to them that it only amounted to an opinion, and that they ought to exercise their own independent judgment on the matter; and to enable them to do so I took care that tho documents should be handed to them one by one as they were referred to by Mr Guerin. It was never suggested | that Beck had any alibi as to any of the ten charges laid against him in the indictment which I tried, and I thought that the defence were seeking to draw the jury away from the real issue—viz., whether all or any of the ten charges laid in the iudictment were proved—by calling an alibi as to something vat, in issue before them—viz., whether

Beck had been convicted of felony as John Smith in 1876. I considered this, issue was wholly immaterial, and, in' accordance with the well-known rule of law, I” excluded the evidence. The jury considered their verdict for some time, and then convicted on all the counts. 1-entirely concurred in their verdict-; and I am' quite sure that anyone who will take the trouble to read the very full shorthand report .of the trial contained in our 'session papers will come to the same conclusion, and say that on the evidence before them no other course was possibly open to them. “Eight years pass away, and Beck, is again arrested for similar frauds, again committed for trial, again tried (this time before Mr Justice Grantham), and again convicted. , On this trial Beck gave evidence on his own behalf, which in 1894,' in the trial before me, the then state of the law did not permit him to do. It made no difference; the result was the same. I have carefully read the report of this case in the sessions papers. It was a strong case, but the strength of it was rot nearly so great as in the trial before me m 1894. No on© more deeply deplores the wrongful conviction of A. Beck than 1 do, no one more deeply sympathises with him m his terrible misfortune and in his awful sufferings ; but it is an odd thing to try and remedy one injustice by committing an ither. Accused persons in this counVrii convicte d on indictment, not by Judges, but by juries; and under no system of jurisprudence can it ever bo possible to prevent Judges and juries alike being deceived by reckless or perjured testiin°ny. No one would welcome more heartily than 1 should the establishment of a strong Court of Criminal Appeal, but 1 tear even then cases of miscarriage of justice would from time to time arise; •bat I agree with Sir Harry Poland that tliPy aro very rare.” * THE FAT BOY’S RIVAL. Students of Dickens will not require 0 be reminded of the source of this quotation. “Joe, Joe!” said tho stout gentleman, when the citadel was taken, and the besiegers and besieged* sat down to dinner. “D that boy! He’s gone to sleep again. Be good enough to pinch him, sir-—in the leg, if you please; nothing else wakes him. Thank you! Undo the hamper, Joe.” (‘Pickwick tapers ). Joe. whose amazing talent for slumbering anywhere and at" any time was a constant source of irritation to Mr Pickwick’s friend, has a rival in London as i° the present Commonwealth Cabinet. With Mr Preid, however, his ability to drop off to sleep at any moment ls “ Sift; with Joe it is a failing, and with his latest rival also. The existence of tins person was revealed at Worship street Police Court’ the other day, when a neatly-dressed woman, carrying an infiuit, stepped forward and temporarily flabbergasted the magistrate with the query What am Ito do with my husband,- please?” “Why, what does he do?” asked Mr Mead, in surprise. ii i us k. ’k,” said the applicant. He does nothing. He’s alwavs asleep. Ho_s asleep now. I left- him asleep when I came out here. I shall find him asleep when I get back.” The stipendiary asked if the husband had no work to do. No; he’s too sleepy,” said tho woman. “ He lost his job. and now he don’t go to look for anything.” Is he ill?”—“-No; the doctor says there’s nothing wrong with him.” “Drink?”—“No—only sleeps.” The perplexed magistrate did not sec what ho could do in the matter. The wife suggested a separation. “If you find yourself obligeu to leave him I could grant you a summons. Why not tell him you have applied to a magistrate?” The woman shook her head. “I. woke him,” said she, “to tell him 1 was coming here, and he only turned round and went to sleep again. He’s been like that for a. year or more.” Mr Mead agreed with the lady that it was quite time the husband was wakened* and made her out a prescription in the shape of a summons. It remains to be seen whether Ihe magisterial medicine will be found efficacious.