NEW SOUTH WALES.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXV, Issue 1634, 12 March 1866, Page 2

NEW SOUTH WALES.

THE BERTRAND AND KINDER CASE. ( Abridged from the Sydney Morning Herald.)

In the Criminal Court, on-Friday, 23rd February, the evidence in this case being completed, and his Honor having summed up, the jury retired at a quarter past six o'clock. In two hours they returned with a verdict of * Guilty."

The prisoner being asked if he had anything to say why sentence shpuld not be passed upon him, made the following statement, his voice betraying no trepidation, and perhaps only a natural weakness :—

Although ably defended by Mr. Dalley and others acting on my behalf, I still have to call your Honor's attention to the fact that throughout the defence no evidence has been taken to prove that Kinder had intimated his intention or threatened in any way to take his own life. This was an oversight by Mr. Dalley. Witnesses might have been brought to prove that Kinder, shortly before his death, threatened to shoot or drown himself, and stated that he had fire-arms, powder, and shot in the house, with which he intended to do it. He was in such a state of mind from nervous depression that he had to leave the bank. I , have lent him money until I told him that I could do 110 more for him. He, was in such [ difficulty that nothing in the house belonged to him. This letter from New Zealand pressed heavily upon him; and I have witnesses who could prove not only that the letter was given into my hands, but that it i came from New Zealand; and it was quite sufficient to upset the mind of a man labouring under his embarrassments. Neither Mrs. Kinder nor my wife were called, although they could prove my innocence. A certain amount of intelligence and ability is imputed to me, and yet it is assumed that I would entrust such a terrible secret to women who are known not to be in the habit of keeping secrets. If I could have poisoned him, why should I have shot him ? Then, as to the statements I made. I was in the habit of hearing jokes, and joining in them very freely, with a great deal of nonsense, about the time of prosecuting Jackson, as to shooting men and running away with their wives, and it was in jest that I told my sister what she has stated. But, by a kind of fatality, circumstances have been brought together that makes it almost evident that I am guilty. If I made confessions, and my conscience pricked me, yet I denied them shortly afterwards. I have been fairly and impartially tried ; but I do complain that the Crown seemed more intent upon taking my life than was warranted to satisfy the ends of justice. If I die I am murdered, and in spite of the decision of the twelve men who have given this verdict, I defy the world to say that there has been murder. I do not care for life ; all I am now interested in being to vindicate myself in justice to my family. I have been unkind to my wife, maddened as I was by love for this woman, and she never seemed satisfied with the mention of my passion. I wrote that diary not intending it for the eyes of anybody but herself, and to gratify that romantic feeling which seemed to be part of her very nature. The facts I mention can be proved. It is not the end of justice to take the life of an innocent man ; its object must be to satisfy society by acting upon the established truth of facts either of innocenc or guilt. I was in the habit of leading a loose wild life, and now, because of it, there is imputed to me a crime which was never thought of before Jackson alluded to it in his letter. We two have discussed a marriage with Mrs. Kinder—two men of like character. He said it was not impossible for him to marry her, but that it was for me. Mrs. Kinder attributed her husband's suicide to jealousy of me, so that, although I am not actually his

murderer, I was the instrument of his death. TBis my conscience. Then I strove -night and day to tear myself from the fa«cin*tion>;which seemed to beset me—to repent of whatll had done; and endeavoured to be & better' man, This may be ridiculed after what heW transpired. It seems to be my fat», and' I aiii'content to die. It is not death I fear, but I desire justice. The evidence on the. wqiuest was given truthfully, on my honour 1 as I Jtand here. I did not wish to expose Mrs. Kinder—it was not required that I should expose her character or my own, so as unnecessarily to injure either of us. I said, "To the best of my belief Kinder had had no cause for the unkind way in whieh he treated her." I was striving to teach her to make herself a good home. There ig evidence of all that. It may be said that Mr. Woods was not called because he was interested, but I complain of the most unfair and moet unjusj manner in which my case has been treated from the beginning to the end—the ex parte. statements at the police-office having in controversion of justice, been published, and the whole case put before the public to make a sensation. To this I attribute all the prejudice against me. Your Honor is not an interested party, and may have the means of ascertaining the truth of what I have said. No evidence has been taken as to whether Kinder put himself out of the way; but evidence is adduced to show that I had a motive in getting rid of him, and therefore it is assumed I put him out of the way.

His Honor said: It is no infrequent thing for me to hear protestations of innocence after conviction; but I have never found it consistent with duty, truth, or the interests of society, to accord them any serious consideration. Even under the gallows I have known their innocence protested by men of whose guilt I have felt as certain as of anything I have known personally myself, and whose guilt was demonstrated by evidence so clear that no human being possessed of the power of reason could doubt for an instant that the result arrived at had been right. Of course, these protestations with many persons go for much; but by those with more experience, equal feeling, more responsibility, who derire to see justice and nothing more, they really pass unheeded. You are evidently a person of great ability, acuteness, and considerable cunning, with sufficient cleverness to seize npon weak points and make them appear an excuse, which to reflecting persons could be no palliation whatever. Yousay you are not afraid to die, and I trust you are not; but believe me, that in the opinion of a great majority of thinking men wherever this evidence will go, you ought not to be allowed to hope for forgiveness here. Yo* say you desire only to clear your character. For whose sake ? For the sake of your wife and children ? Can it be possible that a»y human being who has heard what has passed at this trial, who has read the diary, who knows your intercourse with that abandoned woman, supposes that you attempt to clear your character for the sake of your wife and children ? How can you, who in the same breath utter a falsehood, be believed in this ? The jury having pronounced their verdict, I am now at liberty to look at other matters I did not think proper to refer to before. I did not read one line of that to which I am now going to allude. I was informed that Mrs. Kinder might possibly have been tried upon evidence to be given by your wife. Upon inquiry, I then made, I found that she had indeed given some information, that she was stated to have given to your own sister, in a confession ; but having been permitted to see you, I believe she has receded from it. (Prisoner—" I never seen my wife since I have been in gaol.") Then it may be possible she has not receded from it. I shall feel myself called upon, after your address, to lay before the public that statement. If she was not called as a witness, you must, with the intelligence you possess, have known that she could not be called. She has made a statement which, unless your sister is perjured, positively confirms the verdict of the jury. (Prisoner —"My sister is perjured.") Then the case displays unparalleled wickedness ; but this the deepest in dye—that a sister, for no object of her own, should falsely state that your own wife admitted to her that you had shot Kinder. She may have some remains of affection for your children, and even for the character of their father; but can I doubt that your sister spoke the truth when she said she heard this extraordinary statement from you ? I do not believe you are an insane man, but a perfectly sane man would never have made the declarations you have made; and I thoroughly believe your sister when she related this " I said to his wife,' Good God, has Henry really shot him ?' and she answered 'Yes he has.'" Her details, too, are quite consistent with my idea of the mode in which the deed was done. Can any one doubt the guilt when a man is accused by wife and sister, and their statement sustains and accords with all the probabilities of the case ? I hear your declaration with sorrow and with pain, but I place not the slightest dependence upon it. I have a greater responsibility than the jury; and I declare to you now, before God, I believe you thoroughly guilty, and I have no more doubt of it than that you are before ine at this moment. When I first heard the case I did entertain doubts, and I have lain awake hours thinking over the various points involved, and determined if those doubts were not removed not to try you again. But now I have not the slightest doubt of your guilt, and I believe lean demonstrate to any man that you are guilty. I think it utterly impossible for a rational person to believe that that man shot himself. You say he had intentions. I havo had great experience in criminal trials, extending over thirty-two years, and have tried perhaps more cases than any judge in any country, and I have never known a case clearer than your own ; nor have I known a single case in which a man who was really determined to kill himself talked about it to his friends. If a man talks about committing suicide, it is almost a proof that he never intends to take his life. Is there the slightest probability that without any temptation and with his pipe in his mouth—having only half an hour before been playing with his child, and just bought oysters for his wife and given them to the servant to prepare for supper— this unfortunate man should, no pistol having been seen in his possession about that time, go into the drawing room in your presence, in the presence of your wife and his own, and commit a bungling attempt at suicide like that described by you ? Mo person ever heard of such a thing in the annuls of crime. He might have been embarrassed, and addicted to drinking. Had he not been ;i drunkard, his wife, probably would not have been seduced by Jackson, and you would not have debauched her. If drink did not give the temptation to crime by him it affordeu opportunities for crime in others. All the records of criminal courts show repeated instances of crime being committed through the agency of drunkenness—the victim being a drunkard, and affording opportunities for crime against himself. I do not think Kinder was drunk on that day, but whether drunk or sober it is inconceivable that he could have intended to take his life in that bungling, stupid, incredible manner. Then I find you had every temptation, every motive, for destroying him. You were madly in love with this woman, with a passion eating into your vitals, and you would have committed any crime to have her a3 your own. Hfclf mad I believe you to bo, for you never could talk as you did unless there was a partial disturbance of your mind—wild, eccentric, strange, to an utterly unprecedented degree, your mind was overshadowed by the influence this unhappy woman had acquired over you. I hear you say that at the time of writing to her the impassioned sentences, burning with love, you had no other inten than to satisfy the cravings of her romantic feelings. Why, you admit that you wrote them as a deep and abandoned hypocrite, do not believe it. I believe that, maddeneo by the passion of your attachment to her, yo did this terrible deed, and your statements previous were to be accounted for by the idea that in saying his death was likely to occu , when it eventually took place, you as - friend would not be looked upon wi suspicion. Ido not make any eXCUS . for Jackson; his conduct was extreme y bad. But I feel some sympathy tor him, believing that he spoke the tr • I • think he deserves punishment,

the law was never meant for a case like his. You had previously uttered dark hints of the probability of Kinder's sudden death—you told him not to be surprised at anything he might hear, and when he heard that your victim had committed suicide, the cohviction flashed across his mind that he had met his death at your hands. Horrified at this conviction, friendless, and without money, he writes to you for £20, that he might leave the country where such a crime had been committed. He did not threaten to charge you with a crime of which he knew you were innocent. His conduct, no doubt, was highly reprehensible ; but I believe he has suffered enough already, and ought to be pardoned. You say that a prejudice has been raised against you, and that you are the victim of that prejudice ; but I believe that the colony, from one end of it to the other, will feel satisfied of the justice of the verdict that has jbeeH returned against you. There can be nothing more painful to a judge than when be contemplates the possibility of innocence in a man upon whom it is his duty to pass sentence; but lam certain that the verdict is a true one, and therefore am spared the additional pain I should feel if I had any doubt of your guilt. You have complained of being characterised as a fiend ; but, good God! your conduct has not been that of a man. I certainly can look on you with some decree of compassion, because I believe you have not been possessed of all the better faculties of our nature; but you knew perfectly well what you were doing, and are accountable for all you have done. It has not been my wish to add to your present sufferings by unnecessarily referring to the circumstances connected with the crime of which you have been convicted ; but I considered it my solemn duty to say what I have. His Honor proceeded to pass sentence of death upon the prisoner in the usual form, and exhorted him to employ the short time that ■would be allotted to him to seek forgiveness of God, and not of any earthly tribunal. During the whole of the learned judge's address, the prisoner displayed the utmost firmness, and he smiled at some one near the dock as he was was removed. Prior to leaving the dock, the prisoner asked the Chief Justice if he should ba allowed to see his wife. His Honor told the prisoner that he must make any application of that sort to the sheriff; but that he (the judge) should advise the sheriff to be very careful before he consented to any application of the prisoner that might lead to difficulty.