The judge acknowledged this “submission” with a grave nod but made no further comment, and the counsel resumed his examination.
“When your father used to speak to you about Josiah’s story, did he give you any particulars as to what Josiah had told him?”
“He did occasionally. But most of Josiah’s talk on the subject took the form of vague boastings to the effect that his real station was very different from what it appeared. But now and again he let himself go with a straight statement. For instance, on one occasion he said quite definitely that Pippet was not his real name; that he had assumed it because it seemed to be a good name for an inn-keeper. I don’t know what he meant by that.”
“He gave no hint as to what his real name was?”
“No. The nearest approach to a disclosure of an identity other than that of Josiah Pippet was in his parting words to my father when the latter was starting on a long voyage a few months before Josiah’s death. He then said—I am quoting my father as well as I can remember his words—‘When you come back, you may not find me here. If you don’t, you can look for me down at Winsborough, near Sandwich in Kent, and you will probably find me living at the Castle.’ That was the last time that my father saw him.”
“You have referred to the alleged bogus funeral of your grandfather, Josiah Pippet, and to a dummy coffin weighted with lead. In the accounts which you received, was any mention made of the kind of lead used—whether, for instance, it was lead pipe, or bars, or lead pig?”
“Most of the accounts referred simply to lead; but one—I forgot who gave it—mentioned a roll of roofing-lead and some plumber’s oddments, left after some repairs. But I am not very clear about it. I can’t quote any particular account.”
“Are there any other facts or statements known to you tending to prove that the man known as Josiah Pippet was in fact the Earl of Winsborough?”
“No. I think you have got them all except those contained in the diary.”
“Then,” said the counsel, “in that case, we will proceed to consider the entries in the diary which seem relevant.” With this, he produced seven small, antique-looking, leather-bound volumes and passed them across to the witness.
“What do you say these volumes are?” he asked. “To the best of my belief,” was the reply, “they are the diary kept by my grandfather, Josiah Pippet.”
“How did they come into your possession?”
“They were among the effects of my late father, Frederick William Pippet. They were obtained by him, as he informed me, when he was disposing of the effects of his deceased brother, Walter. He found them in a deed box with a large number of letters, the whole being tied together and docketed ‘Diary and letters of Josiah Pippet, deceased.’ As the surviving son, he took possession of them and the letters.”
“You have no doubt that these volumes are the authentic diary of Josiah Pippet?”
“No, I have not. His name is written in each volume and my father always referred to them as his father’s diary, and I have no reason to doubt that that is what they are.”
“Are they, in all respects, in the same condition as when they came into your possession?”
“They were up to the time that I handed them to my solicitor, and I have no doubt that they are still. They were always kept in the deed box in which my father found them, together with the letters. I handed the whole collection in the deed box to my solicitor for him to examine.”
“Would it be correct to say that it was the study of this diary that led you seriously to entertain the possibility that Josiah Pippet was really the Earl of Winsborough?”
“It would—with the proviso that the studying was not done by me. It was my sister who used to study the diary, and she communicated her discoveries to me.”
“Since you have been in England, have you made any attempts to check the accuracy of the entries in the diary?”
“I have, in the few cases in which it has been possible after all these years.”
“There is an entry dated the 3rd of September, 1839: ‘Home on the brig Harmony. Got aground on the Dyke, but off next tide.’ Have you been able to check that? As to the locality, I mean.”
“Yes, I find that the Dyke is the name of a shoal by the side of a navigation channel called The Old Cudd Channel, leading to Ramsgate Harbour. I find that it is used almost exclusively by vessels entering or leaving Ramsgate Harbour or Sandwich Haven. At Sandwich I was allowed to examine the old books kept by the Port authorities, and, in the register of shipping using the port I found, under the date 1st September, 1839, a note that the brig Harmony sailed out of the Haven in ballast, bound for London.”
“What significance do you attach to that entry?”
“As Sandwich is only a mile and a half from Winsborough, and is the nearest port, the fact of his embarking there is consistent with the supposition that Winsborough was the place in which he had been staying.”
“There is a previous entry dated the 12th of June, 1837: ‘Broached an anker of prime Dutch gin that I bought from the skipper of the Vriendschap.’”
“I checked that at the same time in the same register. There was an entry relating to a Dutch galliot named the Vriendschap which discharged a general cargo, including a quantity of gin. She arrived at Sandwich on the 10th of April and cleared outward on the 25th of the same month. At that time, the diary shows that Josiah was absent from home.”
“Is there anything to show where he was at that time?”
“There is an entry made just after he arrived home. I am not sure of the date.”
“Are you referring to the entry of the 6th of May, 1837: ‘Home again. Feel a little strange after the life at the Castle’?”
“Yes. Taking the two entries together, it seems clear that the castle referred to was Winsborough Castle and that he was in residence there.”
“I will take only one more passage from the diary—that of the 8th of October, 1842: ‘Back to the Fox. Exit G. A. and enter J. P., but not for long.’ What does that convey to you?”
“The meaning of it seems to me to be obvious. The initials are those of the Earl, George Augustus, and himself, Josiah Pippet. It appears plainly to indicate that George Augustus now retires from the stage and gives place to Josiah Pippet. And, as the entry was made within ten months of his alleged death, or final disappearance, the expression, ‘not for long,’ seems to refer to that final disappearance.”
On receiving this answer, counsel paused and glanced over his brief. Apparently finding no further matter for examination, he said: “I need not ask you anything about the passages from the diary which I quoted in my opening address. The diary is put in evidence and the passages speak for themselves.”
With this he sat down and Anstey rose to cross-examine.
“You have told us, Mr. Pippet,” he began, “that you were led to entertain the belief in the dual personality of your grandfather, Josiah Pippet, by your study of certain passages in his diary.”
“Not my study,” was the reply. “I said that my sister studied the diary and communicated her discoveries to me.”
“Yes. Now, which of these passages was it that first led you to abandon the scepticism which, I understand, you formerly felt in regard to the story of the double life and the sham funeral?”
“I cannot remember distinctly, but my impression is that my sister was strongly influenced by those passages which imply, or definitely state that Josiah, when absent from his London home, was living at the Castle.”
“But what caused you to identify ‘the Castle’ as Winsborough Castle? There is nothing in the diary to indicate any castle in particular. The words used are simply ‘The Castle.’ How did you come to decide that, of all the castles in England, the reference was to this particular castle?”
“I take it that we were influenced by what we had both heard from our father. The stories that he had been told referred explicitly to Winsborough Castle. And the inquiries which I have made since I have been in England
—”
“Pardon me,” interrupted Anstey, “but those inquiries are not relevant to my question. We are speaking of your study of the diary when you were at your home in America. I suggest that you then had very little knowledge of the geography of the county of Kent.”
“We had practically none.”
“Then I suggest that, apart from what you had heard from your father, there was nothing to indicate that the words, ‘The Castle,’ referred to Winsborough Castle.”
“That is so. We applied what my father had told us to the entries in the diary.”
“Then, since the connexion was simply guess-work, is it not rather singular that the mere reference to The Castle should have made so deep an impression on you?”
“Perhaps,” the witness replied, with a faint smile, “my sister may have been prepared to be impressed, and may have communicated her enthusiasm to me.”
To this answer Anstey made no rejoinder, but, after a short pause and a glance at his brief, resumed:
“There is this entry of the 8th of October, 1842: ‘Back to the Fox. Exit G. A. and enter J. P., but not for long.’ Did that passage influence you strongly in your opinion of the truth of the story of Josiah’s double life?”
The witness did not answer immediately, and it seemed to me that he looked a little worried. At length he replied:
“It is a remarkable fact, but I have no recollection of our ever having discussed that entry. It would almost seem as if my sister had overlooked it.”
“Do you remember when your attention was first drawn to that entry?”
“Yes. It was at a consultation with my solicitor, Mr. Gimbler, when he showed me a number of passages which he had extracted from the diary; which he considered relevant to the case, and which he wished me to try to verify if possible.”
“Have you, since then, discussed this passage with your sister?”
“Yes; and she is as much surprised as I am that it did not attract her attention when she was reading the diary.”
“So far as you know, did she read the entire diary?”
“I understood that she read the whole seven volumes from cover to cover.”
“Has she ever made a definite statement to you to that effect?”
“Yes. A short time ago, I put the question to her explicitly and she assured me that, to the best of her belief, she had read every word of the diary.”
“And you say that she had no recollection of having noticed this particular entry?”
“That is what she told me.”
Here the judge interposed with a question.
“I don’t understand why we are taking this hearsay testimony from the witness as to what his sister read or noticed. Is not the lady in court?”
“Yes, my lord,” replied Anstey; “but I understand that it is not proposed to call Miss Pippet.”
The judge turned and looked inquiringly at Mr. McGonnell, who rose and explained:
“It was not considered necessary to call Miss Pippet as she is not in possession of any facts other than those known to her brother.”
With this he sat down. But, for some seconds, the judge continued to look at him fixedly as if about to ask some further question, a circumstance that seemed to occasion the learned counsel some discomfort. But, if his lordship had intended to make any further observations, he thought better of it, for he suddenly turned away, and, leaning back in his chair, glanced at Anstey; who thereupon resumed his cross-examination.
“Now, Mr. Pippet,” said he, taking up the last volume of the diary (the seven volumes had been passed to him at the conclusion of the examination in chief) and opening it at a place near the end, “I will ask you to look at this entry, dated the 8th of October, 1842.” (Here the open book was passed across to the witness.) “You will see that there is a blank space between the last entry made before the writer went away from home and this, the first entry made after his return. Is that so?”
“It is,” replied Mr. Pippet.
“And does it not appear to you that this entry is in a very conspicuous position—in a position likely to catch the eye of any person glancing over the page?”
“It does,” the witness agreed.
“Then I put it to you, Mr. Pippet: Here is a diary which is being searched by an intelligent and attentive reader for corroboration of the story of Josiah’s alleged double life. Here is an entry which seems to afford such corroboration. It is in a conspicuous position, and not only that; for, being the first entry after Josiah’s return from his mysterious absence, it is in the very position in which an intelligent searcher would expect to find it. Now, I ask you, is it not an astounding and almost incredible circumstance that this entry should have been overlooked?”
“I have already said so,” Mr. Pippet replied, a little wearily, delivering the open diary to the usher, who handed it up to the judge. There was a short pause while Anstey turned over the leaves of his brief and the judge examined the diary; which he did with undissembled interest and at considerable length. When he had finished with it, he returned it to the usher, who brought it over to Anstey, by whom it was forthwith delivered into the hands of Thorndyke.
I watched my colleague’s proceedings with grim amusement. If, in Anstey’s cross-examination, certain hints were to be read between the lines, there was no such reticence on Thorndyke’s part. Openly and undisguisedly, he scrutinized the entry in the diary, with the naked eye, with his pocket-lens, and finally with a queer little squat, double-barrelled microscope which he produced from a case at his side. Nor was I the only observer. The proceeding was watched by his lordship, with a sphinx-like face but a twinkling eye, by the two opposing counsel, and especially Mr. Gimbler, who seemed to view it with considerable disfavour. But my attention was diverted from Thorndyke’s activities by Anstey, who now resumed his cross examination.
“You have referred to the alleged bogus funeral of your grandfather, Josiah Pippet, and to a dummy coffin weighted with lead. Now, so far as you know, is that coffin still in existence?”
“I have no doubt that it is. I visited the cemetery, which is at a place near Stratford in the east end of London, and examined the vault from the outside. It appeared to be quite intact.”
“Is the cemetery still in use?”
“No. It was closed many years ago by Act of Parliament and is now disused and deserted.”
“Had you any difficulty in obtaining admission?”
The witness smiled. “I can hardly say that I was admitted,” said he. “The place was locked up and there was nobody in charge; but the wall was only about six feet high. I had no difficulty in getting over.”
“Then,” said Anstey, “we may assume that the coffin is still there. And if it is, it contains either the body of Josiah Pippet or a roll of sheet lead and some plumber’s oddments. Has it never occurred to you that it would be desirable to examine that coffin and see what it does contain?”
“It has,” the witness replied, emphatically. “When I came to England, my intention was to get that coffin open right away and see whether Josiah was in it or not. If I had found him there, I should have known that my father was right and that the story was all bunk; and if I had found the lead, I should have known that there was something solid to go on.”
“What made you abandon that intention?”
“I was advised that, in England, it is impossible to open a coffin without a special faculty from the Home Secretary, and that no such faculty would be granted until the case had been heard in a court of law.”
“Then we may take it that it was your desire to have this coffin examined as to its contents?”
“It was, and is,” the witness replied, energetically. “I want to get at the truth of this business; and it seems to me, being ignorant of law, that it is against common sense to spend all this time arguing and inferring when a few turns of a screw-driver would settle the whole question in a matter of minutes.”
The judge smiled approvingly. “A very sensible vi
ew,” said he; “and not such particularly bad law.”
“So far as you know, Mr. Pippet,” said Anstey, “have any measures been taken to obtain authority to open the vault and examine the coffin?”
“I am not aware of any. I understood that, until the court had given some decision on the case, any such measures would be premature.”
“Are you aware that it is within the competency of this court to make an order for the exhumation of this coffin and its examination as to its contents?”
“I certainly was not,” the witness answered.
Here the judge interposed with some signs of impatience.
“It seems necessary that this point should be cleared up. We are trying a case involving a number of issues, all of which are subject to one main issue. That issue is: Did Josiah Pippet die in the year 1843 and was he buried in a normal manner? Or was his alleged death a fictitious death and the funeral a sham funeral conducted with a dummy coffin weighted with lead? Now, as Mr. Pippet has most reasonably remarked, it seems a strange thing that we should be listening to a mass of evidence of the most indirect kind—principally hearsay evidence at third or fourth hand—when we actually have within our grasp the means of settling this issue conclusively by evidence of the most direct and convincing character. Has the learned counsel for the applicant any instructions on this point?”
While the judge had been speaking, a hurried and anxious consultation had been taking place between Mr. Gimbler and his leading counsel. The latter now rose and replied:
“It was considered, my lord, that, as these proceedings were, in a sense, preliminary to certain other proceedings possibly to be taken in another place, it might be desirable to postpone the question of the exhumation, especially as it seemed doubtful whether your lordship would be willing to make the necessary order.”
“That,” said the judge, “could have been ascertained by making the application; and I may say that I should certainly have complied with the request.”
The Third R. Austin Freeman Megapack Page 146