Change of Venue

PROBABLY no case ever tried in Chautauqua County has competed successfully for public attention with that of People vs. Hankins.

Since the first hearing it has been tried over every time the subject of litigation has been mentioned within ten miles of Forestport.

These post-trials and rehearings have developed so much controversy and prejudice, and so many charges of perjury, that it is beside the question to expect that a fair trial can be held in the county.

Therefore, it is proper that a change of venue be granted for the final hearing, where the facts may be presented to an unbiased jury.

Lute Hankins first appeared at the cross-roads community of Ham let, in the Arkwright Hills of Western New York, eight miles from Forestport, on a sunshiny afternoon in April.

He was accompanied by Mrs. Hankins and two small children, and all of them were extremely life-worn. An emaciated horse wearily dragged the three-spring wagon in which the Hankinses rode, and on the rear were piled their meagre household goods.

One glance showed that life had not gone well with Lute Hankins and his folks — also that it was going very badly with the horse, which gave evidence of an attack of blind staggers as the Hankins retinue drew up in front of Seth Ward’s general store, the only place of business at the cross-roads.

The arrival of a strange vehicle was sufficient to attract the immediate attention of Mr. Ward and two cronies, who were seated on the store-steps profoundly chewing tobacco and spitting at flies that lighted near them.

The evident suffering of the horse excited immediate action, and the three local citizens stepped spryly out to ascertain what might be the matter.

‘Horse is sick,’announced Lute. ‘Guess I’ll have to stop. Guess he’s got colic. ’S there a barn round here where I can fetch him?’

One by one the three inspected the horse critically, and the Hankins family furtively and thoroughly.

‘I reckon you’ll have to stop,’allowed Seth Ward, ‘and I guess you’ll have to get another horse, because this critter ain’t got much more vitality than ’ll get him to my barn.’

The horse was unhitched and led haltingly to the stable, where the three local citizens held a consultation and gave the simple veterinary remedies common to country custom.

The while, by deft inquiries, Mr. Ward and his associates developed the fact that Lute Hankins and his family were moving to anywhere in search of a job on a farm. Also that the horse, wagon, furniture, and a scant sum of money represented their total worldly possessions; that Mrs. Hankins and the children, to say nothing of Lute, hed eaten very sparingly for a long time and particularly during the immediately preceding thirty-six hours; that Hankins and family would consider it an act of providence if they could secure a place to stay and an opportunity to work for enough to keep soul and body together until the horse got well enough to go on.

In the course of an hour or two the kindly people of the neighborhood had taken the Hankinses in, fed them, and provided lodgings for them.

During the night the horse died, and the Hankins family, in consequence of being unable to proceed, was left on the hands of Hamlet.

Much discussion and many conferences took place among the good people of Hamlet, with the result that next day Crawford Stone, owner of several farms acquired through the pressure of mortgage-foreclosures, leased, at the suggestion of some neighbors, the old Perkins farm, a mile and a half from the town, to Lute Hankins, on terms that insured Mr. Stone as much against possible loss as they did Mr. Hankins against any considerable gain.

The farm had a livable house upon it, a herd of cows, a team of horses and farm-tools, and provided shelter and at least a scant livelihood, which was indeed a royal refuge for the Hankinses in their hour of great need.

Lute Hankins, his wife, and two children worked industriously for over two months, and received continual kindnesses from the people surrounding their newly acquired home; but the end of that time showed that their financial progress had actually been backward, since Lute owed a considerable balance to his landlord for small cash advances.

As he became familiar with his neighbors and the idiosyncrasies of certain people in the community, Lute learned that Crawford Stone generally emerged from the relation of landlord and tenant with pretty much all of the proceeds of the relation and a substantial claim against the tenant.

Likewise Lute learned anew that even the simple raiment of farm-folks will in time wear out, and he came to the point where he saw little — and that little much darned and patched — standing between the bodies of the various members of the Hankins family and the rude gaze and persistent breezes of the world.

And so one Saturday morning he appeared at Seth Ward’s general store, and selected wearing apparel for Mrs. Hankins, the children, and himself, amounting at retail prices to twentythree dollars. Then he asked Mr. Ward to extend him credit for the amount purchased.

Mr. Ward was extremely doubtful of the advisability of parting with his tangible merchandise for what appeared to him to be a promise of intangible value; so he asked Lute, ‘How are you going to pay for these things?'

‘Oh, pretty soon,’ replied Lute.

‘I ain’t asking you when, but how,’ parried Mr. Ward. ‘This is quite a bit of money for a man like you, that’s got more responsibilities than income.’

‘That’s so, Mr. Ward,’said Lute; ‘I’ve got big responsibilities and that’s what makes me responsible. Guess I might as well tell you in confidence that I ain’t anywhere near so hard up as folks round here think. I’ve got considerable property, Mr. Ward.’

’What property you got?’ asked Mr. Ward, who was visibly interested.

’Well, I’ve got some horses, cows, and sheep, Mr. Ward,’ went on Lute, in a low voice, to carry the idea that he was imparting confidential information to his listener; ’I ain’t telling anyone, because a skinflint where I used to live is threatening to sue me for a debt I don’t owe. But I got four horses, seven cows, and eleven sheep, and they’re worth all of a thousand dollars, and I guess that’s good enough for twentythree dollars, ain’t it, in addition to my word, which, if I do say it, is as good as my bond, Mr. Ward. ’

‘Well, I’d say so if you’ve got ’em,’said Mr. Ward doubtfully.

‘Got ’em? Why, I’ll take you down to the farm and show ’em to you,’declared Lute decisively.

In the meantime Seth Ward was connecting up in his mind the fact that in the last three weeks considerable live stock had been placed on the Perkins farm where Lute lived, and pondering on his conclusion at the time that the animals were of course the property of the landlord, Crawford Stone.

‘Was them horses, cows, and sheep, what’s been put on the farm lately, yours?’ he asked Lute, looking him squarely in the eye.

‘Yes, sir, and I’ll make a writing to that effect, Mr. Ward, so there can’t be no mistake about it,’ declared Lute without hesitation.

Mr. Ward moved back to his desk and wrote at length on a sheet of foolscap paper, handed the pen to Lute, and said, ‘If you’ll sign that statement in writing, I’ll trust you for them things.’

‘What’s it say?’ asked Lute deferentially.

Mr. Ward read the paper, which was a declaration of Lute Hankins, party of the first part, to Seth Ward, party of the second part, to the effect that the first party owned four horses, seven cows, and eleven sheep free and clear, and that said first party made said statement for the purpose of procuring goods, wares, and merchandise on credit; from said second party.

Lute Hankins unhesitatingly signed the paper, took his packages, and proceeded home, after agreeing to pay five dollars on account every two weeks.

A fortnight later Mr. Ward recalled the fact, that Lute Hankins had not paid the first five dollars, and mentioned it to Hankins, who was driving by that day.

Hankins was profuse with apologies and promises, and another two weeks passed with no payment on account.

During this period doubts that had been existent but had lain dormant in Seth Ward’s mind incubated, and he sent one of his cronies to the Perkins farm to buy a horse from Hankins. The emissary reported that Hankins declared that he owned no horses — that all the horses on the place belonged to Crawford Stone, the landlord. Four other friends of Seth, in quest of horses, cows, and sheep, unfolded the same declaration of facts from Lute Hankins in relation to every bit of live-stock on the old Perkins farm.

By this time Seth Ward was madder than a hornet, and decided to take the bull by the horns himself and collect his due. He saw Crawford Stone, and learned specifically that every animal on the Perkins farm belonged to him, Stone. Then he went after Hankins without gloves. When Seth Ward had expressed himself in full, Lute Hankins was protesting with tears against his misfortunes, and offering abject apologies, mingled with entreaties for time to make good.

But Seth Ward was obdurate. He declared he’d been taken advantage of by a low-down skulking skunk, and no skunk could trim him and get away with it. ‘Why, Lute, you lied to me like a yellow dog, did n’t you?’ he asked indignantly.

‘Yes, Mr. Ward, but—’ began Lute meekly.

‘But nothing!’ exploded Seth. ‘I ain’t going to be butted around like this. Why, you liar, you ain’t got a horse or a cow or a sheep in the world, have you?'

‘No, Mr. Ward, but — ’ began Lute again.

‘Don’t you “but” me — didn’t I tell you not to “but” me?’ shrieked Seth. ‘I’ll fix you! I’ll have you arrested for larceny, for obtaining goods under false pretenses in writing!’ he declared firmly as he started back to Hamlet.

He hurried before Justice of the Peace Bill Overhiser and swore out a warrant for Lute Hankins on the charge of petit larceny, since the twenty-three dollars involved kept the crime within that degree, and gave the Justice’s Court jurisdiction.

The next morning Constable Eph Decker, armed with a warrant, placed Lute Hankins under arrest, and the case of People vs. Hankins was at issue in Justice’s Court at Hamlet.

In court, which was held in the district schoolhouse at Hamlet, ex-Justice of the Peace Abel Putnam, versed by long experience in litigation in Justice’s Court, appeared for the People on behalf of the complainant.

Justice Overhiser judicially informed the defendant that he had a right to consult and be represented by counsel.

Lute Hankins declared he had no lawyer, but he wanted to get one. He talked with the constable and learned that Squire Palmer of Forestport was the nearest lawyer, and that, while he was a young fellow, he was a right smart fighter.

With the aid and advice of the constable, who was not over-friendly with Seth Ward, Lute Hankins asked for a jury trial, and procured an adjournment until three that afternoon, to allow him to drive to Forestport in the custody of the constable to consult Squire Palmer.

Lute and the constable arrived at Palmer’s law office a few minutes before the squire was leaving for lunch, and after a few preliminary words, he and Lute retired to a private room while the constable maintained guard outside.

From this point Squire Palmer, the attorney for the defendant, having had complete access to all the facts, may properly supervise their presentation on the final hearing.

‘Lute Hankins threw six one-dollar bills on my table as we entered the private office,’ states Squire Palmer, ‘and said he wished me to look after his interests. He declared frankly that he was guilty of the crime charged, explained the whole transaction in detail, and said he knew he would be found guilty if tried on the facts, and that owing to the great prejudice and hostility that Seth Ward had stirred up against him in the locality, he would be sent to jail for an excessive term unless some strong plea for mercy was made by me.

‘ He declared I could save him several months in jail if I’d defend him and ask for a change of trial to a place where the people were less prejudiced, and that every day I could get his term lessened would help to save his family from starvation and the poorhouse.

‘I asked him in detail about his written statement, and learned from his own lips that he had deliberately lied about the horses, sheep, and cattle, and told him that I could not possibly be of any help to him as he had no defense whatever.

‘But he insisted strenuously that, if he could get a change of trial to a place where an unprejudiced jury could heatall the facts, he would get off easier because they’d see he was n’t doing nothing but trying to save the life of his woman and the two kids.

‘He was so honest that he won my sympathy as he insisted that without me he would get the maximum sentence, but there was a good chance, if I’d make a plea for mercy, that he’d get off with a lighter one. So I agreed to drive over to Hamlet with him and the constable, and make a plea for his wife and children.

‘I had the constable and Lute have dinner with me at the Forestport House, and then we drove to Hamlet. I took along my Code of Criminal Procedure and a couple of volumes of criminal law, in order to create an atmosphere of legal jurisprudence.

‘Justice Putnam and I took the first twelve men called for the jury, because I knew the case was all cut and dried, and then I made a preliminary speech, protesting against the trial of the case befor Justice Overhiser or any jury in the town of Hamlet, on the ground that prejudice and passion against my client was so intense as to make it impossible for him to get the fair trial the constitution guaranteed him, and I demanded a change of venue to some other locality.

‘As I expected, the old justice denied my motion, but I could see that I had made an impression and shaken the feeling of opposition against Lute with some of the jury and bystanders.

‘Prosecutor Putnam had his facts and witnesses well prepared and proved the case against Hankins completely. But as witness after witness testified, it seemed the old man kept getting prouder and prouder and more tickled at the way he was outshining me as a trial lawyer.

‘When his last witness left the stand, he addressed the court and declared that what I had said about His Honor and the jury and the town of Hamlet and the chance of getting a fair trial for Lute Hankins was insulting and unwarranted, and just to prove it he was going to leave no doubts in the minds of anyone that Lute Hankins was guilty by calling Hankins himself as a witness.

‘For a moment I was going to object against making Hankins a witness against himself, but I figured quickly that on cross-examination I might develop something that would create sympathy, and as they made him their witness, certainly he could not make things worse than they were; so I let Putnam go.

‘He proved by Lute all the facts about the purchase of the goods, and he had him swear that he had signed the written statement about owning the horses, cows, and sheep for the purpose of getting credit.

‘Then he turned triumphantly to Lute and asked, “Now, sir, at the time you made this statement in writing you did not have four horses or any horses did you?”

' “Yes, sir, I did,” answered Lute firmly.

' “What’s that?” shrieked Putnam. “Well, sir, at that time you did not have seven or any cows, did you?”

‘“Yes, sir, I did,” said Lute.

‘“Well, sir, you did n’t have eleven or any sheep, did you?” gasped Squire Putnam.

“‘Yes, sir, I did,” declared Lute.

‘Neither old Putnam nor anyone in the court room was a bit more flabbergasted than I was. Everyone was bowled over except Lute, who was as serene and calm as the country landscape outside; and when he nodded at me, I burst out laughing hilariously, to the added discomfiture of the court, prosecutor, and complaining witness.

‘After he had recovered his breath and composure a bit, Prosecutor Putnam turned to Lute and asked coldly and scornfully,—

“‘So you say you had these critters, eh?”

'"Yes, sir, that’s what I said,” repeated Lute.

‘“Well, sir, where in thunder are they?” Putnam demanded.

‘ “ Down at my mother’s farm in Wyoming County, Mr. Putnam,” said Lute in a matter-of-fact way.

‘Of course, I was on my feet instantly, demanding the discharge of my client on the ground that the undisputed evidence of the People showed that the defendant had the horses, cows, and sheep set forth in the written instrument, and therefore the crime charged had not been committed.

‘Prosecutor Putnam wished to question further, but I objected — showing by the code that he could not impeach his own witness, and that he was bound by the undisputed testimony of Hankins whom he voluntarily called to give evidence in the People’s behalf.

‘After a red-hot wrangle over the law code and statutes in such case made and provided, I prevailed, and the court discharged my client, who was the most unperturbed person in the considerable crowd that had assembled at Hamlet by this time.

‘While Lute was getting the constable’s rig, — which he had borrowed to drive me back to Forestport, — I went into Seth Ward’s store to get a quarter’s worth of cigars, and I perceived that the verdict seemingly had not completely settled the facts in the minds of the villagers, although I was concious, from the expressions of some of them, that I had won some approval as a lawyer.

‘I gave Lute a cigar and we started the drive to Forestport. For about a mile nothing was said, as I was turning the whole case over in my mind.

‘Finally, I said, “Lute, why in thunder did n’t you tell me you had these horses and cows and sheep down at your mother’s farm in Wyoming County?”

‘An expression of innocent surprise spread over Lute’s face as he looked at me and said, “Because that would have been a lie, Mr. Palmer; because I did n’t have any of them critters, and besides my mother’s been dead twenty years, and we never was in Wyoming County in our lives."'