(J. J. Crittenden to his wife Elizabeth.)

ELIZABETHTOWN, April 19, 1854.

MY DEAREST WIFE,-My time is constantly occupied. We go to court at eight o'clock in the morning and adjourn at night. Then comes company and consulation. I am now stealing a moment from the court. This labor seems to agree with me. I was never better in health or spirits.

Burnley and Thomas have not yet reached here.

I have received your two letters. They were delightful little visitants, and I cherish them as fresh from your hand and heart. My love to all. I have not another moment.

Mrs. E. CRITTENDEN.

Farewell, my dear, dear wife.

J. J. CRITTENDEN.

(J. J. Crittenden to his wife Elizabeth.)

ELIZABETHTOWN, April 26, 1854.

MY DEAR WIFE,-I received your letter of the 23d inst. today. Thronged as my heart was with other matters, it drove them all away for the moment, and took supreme and sole command there, as it had a right to do.

I am to speak to-morrow, and to-morrow the case will go to the jury. I feel quite certain the verdict cannot be against Mr. Ward, and I believe it will be in his favor. As soon as it is rendered I will start home. I think it best to go there before we leave for St. Louis; but if you prefer to accompany Mary to Louisville, do so, and we can then determine what further to do.

My dearest wife, I have not another moment to write. Farewell.

Your husband,

Mrs. ELIZABETH CRITTENDEN.

J. J. CRITTENDEN.

CHAPTER V.

1854-1855.

Ward Trial, Speech of Mr. Crittenden-Letter from the Bar of the Court of Appeals of Kentucky, and Mr. Crittenden's Reply-Crittenden to L. HuntonR. C. Winthrop to J. J. Crittenden—J. J. Crittenden to R. J. Ward.

G

THE WARD TRIAL.

SPEECH OF MR. CRITTENDEN

ENTLEMEN OF THE JURY,-I agree with the counsel who have spoken on behalf of the prosecution as to the importance of this case. Its magnitude can scarcely be overrated. The State has an interest in it. It is not a desire for vengeance; the State seeks no. vengeance against its own citizens. But its interest is a paternal one, like that of a father in the midst of his family. Its interest is that its laws may be administered, and that its citizens shall receive from that administration a just and merciful protection.

The defendant has an interest in it. He has everything at stake his life, his liberty, his character, and the feelings and sympathies of those who by ties of friendship or of nature are associated and allied with him. All these are at stake; and you are the men who have been selected to arbitrate and decide this mighty issue.

Gentlemen, we have all cause to rejoice that we live under a government which guarantees to every man the right of trial by jury. Without it, no freeman can be touched in life or liberty. For ages this right has been the inheritance of our race. Our progenitors established it in the Old World; and our fathers have struggled for it as a thing indispensable to the security of their lives and their liberties.

You may wonder why it is they have been thus solicitous to preserve this right of trial by jury. You may inquire why they have not rather left it to the courts to try men who are charged with crime. The judges on the bench are usually able and honest men-men of superior wisdom to those who ordinarily compose a jury; men with greater knowledge of law, and men of undoubted integrity.

It is not so much from any distrust of the judges, or fears

that they might be swayed improperly, that this right has been preserved; but from a deeper and wiser motive. It is not because the people are equally learned with them, but because they are less learned. It is because the law desires no man to be molested in his life or liberty until the popular sanction has been given to his sentence, and his cause pronounced upon by a jury of his peers. The court is expected to render all necessary assistance in stating the law; but his cause, in passing through the minds and hearts of his equals who are trying it, will be divested of all nice technicalities and subtle analogies, and decided on its simple merits, and according to the dictates of reason.

The life of a man should be taken on no other judgment. You may lay down the law like a problem in Euclid; you may take one fact here and another there; connect this principle and that proposition, and then from one to the other reason plausibly and even logically that a man should receive sentence of death. But it was to avoid all this that this glorious right has been kept inviolate. It was to bring the accused face to face with his accusers, and to suffer only a jury of his equals, with their warm hearts and honest minds, to pronounce upon a cause involving his life or his liberty. This, gentlemen, as I understand it, is the object of jury trials. Were cases left to the judgment of the courts, a man's destiny might depend on some subtle and difficult question of law; but now it is different. When you consider a case, it is divested of all such questions, and appeals to you as able to judge of the facts-as familiar with the passions and motives of men-as those who will rest it on its simple merits alone, and will only condemn for reasons that are sure, and solid, and satisfactory to your own understandings.

You are a jury of Kentuckians; and I have too much respect for you, too much respect for myself, in this important case, to deal with you by means of entreaty or flattery. But I may say that I have confidence in you, and that I look forward with sanguine hopes to the verdict you are to render. I expect you to do your duty manfully and firmly; and I expect you to do it, notwithstanding all that has been said to the contrary, mercifully. I expect you to do it on principles compatible with public security, and it is my duty to show you that you may acquit the prisoner at the bar on such principles.

The accused is before you in a house of Kentucky justice, and all vengeance must cease to pursue him at this threshold. This is his sanctuary-here the sway of the law is potent. Here the voice of justice-justice tempered with mercy--is heard that voice which falls in sounds of terror on the guilty

heart, but whispers, in songs of seraphs, peace and joy to the innocent.

The case, gentlemen, is one that demands all your attention. Thus far it has engrossed it; for I never have had the honor of addressing a jury in any case who have given, during its whole progress, evidence of more patient and unwearied attention. I am consoled by the belief that you know the evidence as well or better than I do, and I only ask that you will weigh it carefully in all its bearings and influence, making the proper discriminations, earnestly striving to ascertain the real motive of this accused, and then render that verdict which is demanded by your oaths and the laws of your land.

I will first proceed to an examination of the evidence, and will then endeavor to bring to your attention the law I believe applicable to it. And I hope to satisfy you that the law when applied to the facts entitles the defendant to a verdict of acquittal, a verdict which, under all the circumstances of the case, would cause Mercy herself to rejoice.

What, then, is the case briefly stated? William Ward, a boy of fifteen years and a scholar in the Louisville High School, returns home during the absence of his parents and informs his elder brother that he has been unjustly and severely whipped by Mr. Butler, the principal. "And though I could have borne that, brother," he says, "I could not well bear to be called a liar before the whole school-my companions and my equals. I wish you would go and see Mr. Butler about it." It is four o'clock in the evening when he gives his brother information of the chastisement he deemed so cruel and unjust, accompanied by such an appeal. That brother-the prisoner at the bardetermined to go around at once and ask an explanation; but supposing the school to be dismissed and the teacher not present at that hour, he concludes to wait until the following morning. Then the parents have reached home; but, as the occurrence took place during their absence, he obtains the consent of the father to go round and ascertain the reason of it. He goes, and in a conflict in which he becomes involved, the death of Mr. Butler ensues. This is a general view of the case; but it is necessary for us to examine it more particularly.

The purpose for which he went to the school-house was undoubtedly a lawful one. If a child is whipped, particularly when the chastisement is so severe as to leave marks upon the limbs, I ask if it is not only lawful but in fact a paternal duty to go and inquire the cause and learn why such punishment was administered? Certainly it is. And it is equally lawful and proper for the brother to go, especially when, as in this case, he has the consent and sanction of the father. The ac

cused then stood in the place of the father, and had the paternal right to go on the errand that took him to the school-house. This point I consider settled.

Why, then, are we to infer a malicious and wicked motive on his part for doing that which is clearly lawful and justifiable and proper? The correct presumption would certainly be that the motive was as good and lawful as the act itself. It is contended that he went with malice; but you have heard the testimony on this point-you have heard that of Mrs. Robert J. Ward-given in a tone and manner that must have carried conviction to your hearts; and you know what inducements and reasons there were for the defendant to seek an interview with Prof. Butler. You have heard that the parents had just returned from Cincinnati, when the watchful eye of the mother observed Willie at home, and she asked why he was not at school. The little fellow, still mortified at the memory of his own shame, burst into tears and replied, " Brother Matt. will tell you." And that brother did tell her, adding, "I designed to have gone around to seek an explanation last night, but the hour was so late that the school was not in session; so I postponed it until this morning." When the father proposed that he should go, the accused replied, "This occurred while you were away, and I was here, and I think, father, you ought to let me go." And in fact, during the absence of the father, the accused was the head of the family.

It was decided that he should go; and then Mrs. Ward indulged in one of those maternal anxieties and apprehensions that so often rise in the heart of the mother. He endeavored to quiet them, but when he was at the door she suggested that Robert should go with him. He had made no request of the kind; he was not desirous of the company or assistance of his brother; but on the contrary, when it was urged upon him, replied, "I apprehend no difficulty; Mr. Butler is a gentleman; and as I only ask what justice demands, I am sure he will do all I desire." Gentlemen, I think this is no unimportant fact in tracing the motives of the prisoner. Even, at last, when he submitted to the proposition that his brother should go it was with impatience. He was reminded that Sturgus was his enemy, yet he went, knowing the justice of his intentions, and fearing neither Sturgus nor any one else, only acceding to the request of his mother to quiet her own apprehensions.

This, I think, is a fair statement of the case. I desire to learn why and wherefore he went to the school-house, and what were the motives that actuated him. And I think every circumstance speaks out that there was no wickedness in his heart; that he not only went to do what was proper and lawful, but to perform a duty that devolved upon him. Did Mr. Robert Ward appre