MONTAGU WILLIANS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4570, 15 February 1893, Page 2

MONTAGU WILLIANS.

[FEOSI OTTR LONDON COBBESPONDENT.] j ".-. London, Dec. 3C. j ! Montagu Williams/ who, on Christmas eve, suceump'ed to along and agonising illness, borne with stoic endurance, was a man of marvellous versatility. In turn he became tutor, soldier, act'vr, artist, barrister, autobibgrapher, Jand Metropolitan Police Magistrate, and in each capacity showed himself exceptionally able. But for his fatber-in-law J (Keeiey, % the famous ; : comedian), Montagu Williams might, pro- ■ bably would, have remained an actor, and ' made a name akin 'to that; of Charles , Matthews, whose buoyant, light-hearted ' style he successfully imitated. But Keeley recognised that his son-in-law was too good a man for the stage (especially the ' Provincial stage) of those days. He per- ; susded "Monty" Jas ,all his relations and ; friends called Mai) to ejater at the Inner jTemple andjget called to the; Bar. :Do ' you remember the story of the future great J adv.ocate's:firßtbr^f t ?:.;He' tells itin his , inimitable re'oollectiplnßi v ' ; ', ' ■""■'!.' : ' ! „ The case'wafe'^ne foVßteali^g a horse' in I the 'of / Staiiies, and Mr j, WiHiams, was for l tie' .p'rpsecntibn. "I;, Bhall .never forget^'/he says, "that trial. J When. I looked at the jury they seemed to ' ' dance before my eyos, and instead of twelve j men I seemed to &cc about four times that : number. The case was a weak one against j the prisoner, lam bound to admit ; but I j think that if ib had been ever bo strong I , should have made a mess of it. The Judge \ summed up, and the jury, without a' .moment's hesitation,.prohounced a verdict of "Not Guilty." In my, agony, thinking that a great miscarriage of justice had : taken place on account of my stupidity, 1 1 jumped ' up, and, heaven knows why, I exclaimed, " My Lobd, what's to become of t the horse ?",, Looking at me somewhat | severely, the Judge said, " What has that . to dp .with .you, sir ? Don't you think you've don© enough P" ' This was the commencement of a career as a criminal barrister which, .though out j short in its prime^ equalled (even if it i didn't excel) that of Serjeant Ballantine. ! For fifteen years Montagu Williams was I like the afore-mentioned Serjeant then, , or like".. GUl, Q.C.,. Sir C. Euasell or (in • . divorce cases?) Inderwick, Q.C, to-day, an essential feature of every causa cdlSbre. It j will be enough for our purpose to say that, amongst others, he .waß retained in the trial of. the mysterious Hatton Garden murder; t(he case of the Clerken well explosion; that of Sarah Bachel Lev'erson, known to the world as Madame Bachel, a ; purveyor of cosmetics, who proclaimed her power of making people "beautiful for ever ;**jthe Woci Green murder ; Count Henry de Tourville and the murder in the Austrian Tyrol ; the turf, frauds of 1877; the Hungerfotd murders;! the of Charles Peace ; and, perhaps, the most , sensational of all, the murder on the Brighton railway, and the trial of Lefiroy. Mr Williams is, in his raminißcences, perfeotiy frank as to : his . usual methods with a jnry. "". An advocate,'' he tells us, "who has had large expariesce (especially if that experience has been in criminal cases) can pretty well, when he haß finished speaking, tell which way most of the jury incline. It was a< custom of mine to try and make sure of two or three of the most likely men first, and then to devote my attention to the others. Sometimes one man in particular would present special difficulties. < It would be easy to see that he had formed an opinion adverse to my client, and was sitting there, resolved not to be influenced by what I was saying. There wa& nobbing for it but to patiently hammer away. I found it was half the battle to rouse him from his indifference, and to thoroughly arrest his attention ; while, of course, if lie once opened his mouth to make an enquiry, and thus gave me an opportunity of addressing myself directly to him*. I could usually count upon his allegiance. It was sometimes my experience, too, that when it came to considering the verdict one- or two strong men would easily carry their fellow-jurors along wita them." The number of enterprising burglars Mr Williams restored to their friends and their relations was, he admits, remarkable, and the affectionate manner in which Buch grateful clients greeted him subsequently often proved exceedingly embarrassing. On one occasion (and this is not in " Leaves of a Life ")\ Mr Williams defended at some county town assizes a dunderheaded yoke), who was accused of highway robbery, with violence. The most damning piece of evidence against the fellow was a hat, alleged to be his, and found alongside the prosecutor's senseless body. Someone, the latter deposed, had struck him down f Eom behind in the dark. This hat, and a stick, which it was admitted he had with him on the night of the robbery, and which seemed to be stained with blood, alone connected the accused wifth the affair. The hat was an ordinary labourer's bloucq, and (as counsel pointed out) hundreds precisely similar were worn in the neighbourhood. Mr Williams had been insisting on this point forcibly for some time, when a note twisted up was handed to him. On it a friend had written in pencil, " Make the prisoner try on the hat." The barrister instantly seized the cue. " I will end up, gentlemen of the Jury," he said, "by offering you ocular demonstration that this hat is not my client's. Recollect, please, it has not been out of the custody of the police since the night of the robbery, and abo that witnesses have deposed that my client's own hat fitted him perfectly." Amidst breathless excitement the hat was handed to the half-dazed yokel, who pulled a handkerchief out of his blouae feebly with one hand as be took the hat in the other. " I didn't ask you to blow your noße, cried counsel, wrathfully, " I told you to try that hat on." The prisoner feebly put away the bandana and tried on the hat. It was obviously far too large, coming right down over his eyes. "There, gentlemen," cried Williams, triumphantly, " are.any of you so besotted as to believe that is the man's own hat.** Naturally the prisoner was acquitted. " You are free," whispered the warder, " come this way." But the yokel evidently wished to say eomething. " Well, well, my man," remarked the Judge, impatiently, " What is it ?" "Pleaße, sorr, may I 'aye moi yeat (hat) ? " After a moment's appalled silence the Judge signed the hat should be handed, oven With great deliberation the yokel once more drew out a huge red handkerchief, and this time he dropped it unhindered into the crown of the slouch hat. Then he clapped the hat on. K fitted beautifully. "Be I to go whoam r he asked stolidly. "Thanks to Mr Williams, I fear you are," replied hia Lordship. The two caseß with which Montagu Williams' reputation culminated were those of Lamson and Lef roy, both of whom he defended. At the latter trial, when the advocate resumed his seat, several of the jury were observed to be crying. The summing up did not take place till the following day, or (as the Crown counsel predicted) the murderer would have got off. When a criminal lawyer has acquired a reputation aB the best man who can >b« employed for the defence in a murder trial, it is, of course, inevitable that he will have to defend in cases where nothing much Bhort of a miracle could save the aooused person. Ib was a terribly up-hill struggle, lor example, that Mr Williams undertook when, ha oegayod to disprove tiw gttUbot

George Henry Lameon, the Bottrriemoutl* doctor who poisoned his brother-in-law,, then a lad at school at Wimbledon, la the book of memoirs from which we have already quoted, Mr Williams writes: "This was one of the most difficult caseß that I ever had to deal with, because it required so much medical knowledge. For days before the trial — or, rather,, for nights, my days being fully occupied—l spent houra in study, being assisted in my task by Professor Tidy, the celebrated analyst." It is charaoteri&ticf of his many-sided sympathies that he particularly notices the staunchness with which Mrs L&msbn stuck to her husband to the end, although she must have known him to be guilty. "Every evening," he remarks, "at the end of the day's proceedings' thiu little figure would steal, almost unobserved, from its hiding-place behind the jury-box, and, standing close underneath the dock, would take theprisoner's hand and kiss it most affectionately." Yet there could, Mr Williams thinks, be little doubt that Damson had also murdered his '-wife's '-other: brother, through whose death he came into a considerable sum of money. • • : • , The hiptory of the terrible throat affection which ended Montagu, Williams' brilliant career at the bar (t fearMUe much of 'the foreeoing) 'be welUknown to your readers. But little, _however, has yet transpired concerning" his' great Jaud good work as London Stipendiary-;-*' the poor man's' Magistrate* ''East* Endera called him. ' - . One who was associated with" him inhis later philanthropic work: writes -as follows:— ( ' ■■• " ■■■'-■'■■-^ - : ' ■• t •'■• [„.. 5^086. people,, only . knewV, 4 il«j (f M.6ji|a|j|u . i Williams as ftii eminent i Ma Metropolitan, :^r ja^a ! popular-man of the, world j but Hs f s(iiroag-'-. .<est . characteristic,- . standing: .out, -pre* . eminently ;, above all , others,.? was , o*ly i knpwp, to his yery intimate friends* and , best of all to the poor and the distressed in ! the city and the East End. Almost to \ the last hour othis life his active mind \ was occupied in planning into definite prac{tical shape his arrangements fpr.promqting | the welfare of. the poverty rfitriokeh and : helpless applicants who, : appeared before | him ; as a Magistrate, and those who were without food or clothing residing within the districts of his judicial authority. He < ; had a heart full of pity. for the woes and ' ; misfortunes of c the poor. •;,.. „ '.', : \ ',-.,' . During the early winter of 1891, while presiding at Worship street Police Count, . 1 the flagrant distress revealed in. the jstoriea | of applicants and in thecasesrof offenders ) against ■ . the . - School GBoard regalatidns I awakened within him the ; deepest symi pathy, impelling. Jiim to . immediate and 1 effdotive action toe the alleviation of "some (of the misery with which he. j was constantly being made acquainted^ rlt would i be difficult to find anyone' more thoroughly I in earnest in whatever he cdid than Mr Williams was; ; Early in November of last I year he had an interview with, the agent of ithe London Police Court Mission -at i Worship street" Court in reference to the scheme which 'he; ha&in view, for helping the poor* and the interest he took ia everything he did caused a warm, attachment to arise; between MrMassey and himself, the result being that the former. wag' his fidns Achates in matters benevolent: Briefly, jfcial remarks at this interview were : i " Massey, we - must have arooni near the - 1 Court where we dan have a clothing depdt. i I'll find the money and' the rclothesi you'll j take charge of the whole : thing, and : I'll I i help you by coming round to see the homes r of. 'the *poor whom i you visit/;. Unfortu- v : nately, i* the poor man's Magistrate/ as he was appropriately called/ was never ' able' to accompany the missionary ' on' his ; ' messages of ; mercyj because just after this ■ I 1 his illness t became more r severe and . ] complicated. Very soon, however, through j the efforts of Mr .Williamß, a clothing i depdb was fitted up in a house j near City road, which -was stocked with | garments of every description, and- many. a. | poor wretched father. and mother have i bleesed Mr Montagu Williams for providing them with warm clothing, good food, , 'fuel and furniture. Beneath the keen, | quick, Bometimes.even abrupt, manner- oft i the Magistrate, there was one of the j kindest and most sympathetic hearts that ever beat in man. One day, in the coldest part of winter, a poor, wretched mother.fold her sad tale of want and hardahip^to the over-open ear of Mr Williams. He I immediately . sent his missionary- to visit. , the woman's home and report forthwith.. The scene which afterwards took place wag moßt touching. The missionary reportedto the Magistrate that he had found in thehome of the wt man .a girl of seventeen,, pale and emaciated, lying on an old bedstead chair, oovered only with a few rage< and nearly dead with consumption. Standing on some hot cinders in the grate waa a. ' i little tin pan containing water in which to eoak some bread in order that the sick girl might eat it— the only food in the house* The father was out of employment, and starvation wbb doing its deadly work. During the story Mr Williams was visiblyaffected, and, as the sad tale was brought to a close, tears, which "the humane Magistrate could not keep back, rolled: down, his cheeks. Almost without speaking he handed the missionary some money to provide for the immediate needs of the family > the delicate girl was placed in.Brompton. Hospital, and work was found 1 , for the father. After being in hospital a considerable time the girl returned- to her home, and the missionary visited her regularly until her death. On her dying bed her last wordß to Mr Maasey were,, as- the tears stood in her eyes and her breathing came in irregular gasps, " Please — Mr Masaey— tell — Mr Williams— how — grateful— l am — for— his— kindness." Had Mr Williams lived,, he intended, and no, doubt would have been able, to extend his philanthropic work amongst the poor of the City and East end. His latest orders were that the missionary should fit up rooms in his house for the storing of clothing to be given to the distressed, and. his whole mind was filled with the question how best to meet the misery of thewinter. At the beginning of last month he wrote, when very ill : — " Dear — , As I told you, if I am alive, and there is th& same distress in my old neighbourhood, I shall reopen my depot * * * I never oan be really well again, hut I hope to, return to my duties when my relief expires, with a little more strength. — Yours always^ M.W."