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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE TRIAL^ 
 
 OF 
 
 I 
 
 MULUK CHAND 
 
 FOR 
 
 THE MURDER OF HIS OWN CHllD. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 A ROMANCE 
 
 OF 
 
 CRIMINAL ADMLMSTRATION IN BENGAL 
 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY 
 
 W. A. IIUNTHR, LL.D., M.P. 
 
 ^ T. FISHER UN WIN, ' 
 26 Paternoster Square. 
 
 1888.
 
 ^^ 
 
 PC-, 
 
 ^.s-^ 
 
 THK ABEl N V M \ 
 
 JOHN THOMSON AND JOHN F. HiOMSON, M.A, 
 
 :i£S!:
 
 K 
 
 INTRODUCTION.- 
 
 This report of the strange case of Muluk Chand, a humble 
 watchman in a small village of rural Bengal, is published 
 from the original record, with a narrative from the pen of Mr. 
 Manomohan Ghose, who acted a.y Cfunsel to the accused on , c' 
 the second trial. Besides the interest that always attaches ^^__ 
 to the great dr amas of life when played out on the stage of 
 the criminal courts, there are instructive points in the cass -•'^^ 
 as illustrating some of the characteristic features in the 
 administration of English and Indian criminal law. 
 
 Muluk Chand was convicted unanimously by a jury for the u'l"' 
 murder of his daughter, aged 9 years. The principal witness 
 against him was a younger daughter, aged 7 years, who 
 stated that she had seen the murder committed. The Ses- 
 sions Judge, Mr. P. D. Dickens, a "competition ivaUah'' was 
 a."? fully convinced of the guilt of the accused as of the truth 
 '^)f the proposition tha!5 " two and two make four'". But the 
 capital .sentence cannot in India be executed when a Sessions 
 Judge pronounces condemnation until it i.v confirmed b}- the 
 yigh Court. Some of the persons who heard the trial were 
 nbt cerfvinccd of the justice of the verdict, and a subscription 
 'Was raised for the purpose of engaging counsel when the case 
 came before the High Court. After a lengthened debate^ Mr. 
 M. Ghose rorijvinced two judges that there was sufficient doubt 
 to justify thcAa in ordering ^ new trial. Upon the .second trial 
 the accu.sed y^as acquitted, as it appeared alrjost certain that 
 no murder had in fact been perpetrated. The mode in which 
 the dccca.sed met her death was not di.sclosed to counsel until 
 •after the verdict w^s given on the second trial.
 
 IV 
 
 An English lawyer cannot help being impressed with the ' 
 
 superiority, in one respect, of criminal procedure in India. 
 
 Had the cast occurred in England, the only appeal would 
 
 have been to the Home Secretary, and he would have been 
 
 compelled to arrive at truth without the aids that a public 
 
 trial affords. The High Court in Calcutta is a more suitable 
 
 < 
 tribunal to consjder appeals ; and the mannet in which this 
 
 Court discharges its duties has caused it to be regarded with 
 
 vencrktion by the people of India as the noblest manifestation 
 
 of British justice. 
 
 The light that this c\ s^ throws upon the administration of 
 justice in the rural districts of Bengal is somewhat painful. 
 The miscarriage of justice was due to the corruption of the 
 \jolice and their determination to support a wrong opinion by 
 tutoring a child in falsehoods to swear away its father's life. 
 At the same time the readiness of the people to perjure them- 
 selves is a fact full of significance as to the difficulty of carrying 
 out a pure administration of the law. 
 
 A candid study of the facts in this case will inspire grave 
 doubts of the expediency of certain changes in English ' 
 criminal procedure that have been adopted in India. In 
 England the evidence of the three women who stated that 
 the little girl told them what she haJ seen on the morning' 
 of the murder would not have been admissible. Mr. Dickens 
 admitted it under 'the provisions of Section 157 of the Indian 
 Evidence Act, which is to the effect that any statement mac^e^ 
 by a witness, at or gbout the time when the fact to w^ich'it 
 relates took place, is admissible in order to corroborate the. 
 witness. 
 
 Such a rule gives enormous scope to perjury,) and enables a 
 prosecution to multijoly witnesses., It gives a fajse appearance 
 of corroboration, and in this case undoubtedly itvi to a, fearful 
 miscarriage of justice. Evidently the experiment of altering 
 the rules of evidence has in this instance proved a failure. 
 ." It is a singular fact that the whole case 'for the prosecution
 
 • against Muluk Chand would have collapsed if the Sessions 
 Judge had exercised a power that he possessed of calling for 
 the production of the police papers. The practice in India is 
 to enter in a diary at the police office, noting the day and 
 hour, every fact and statement made concerning a police 
 inquiry.* So much iijiportance does the Indian law attach to 
 $uch statements, that any person wilfully making a'false state- 
 ment to the police is exposed to the punishment of perjury, just 
 as if he had made the statement as a witness at the trial.-i* The 
 accused parties have no right to inspect the police records — it 
 is difficult to see why — but the Jila^V may call for them and 
 examine them himself Had Mr. D^cicens done so, he would 
 have found an entry showing that the police had dug up the 
 floor of Muluk Chand's house, searching for the snake wkich 
 was supposed to have killed the girl. A perusal of the trial 
 shows that this fact is totally inconsistent with the theory of 
 the prosecution.; and if Mr, Dickens had laid his finger on it, 
 the whole edifice of perjury would have fallen to the ground. 
 
 , * Section 172 of the Indian Criminal Prdtedure (Act X. of 1882) enacts : — 
 
 " Every police-officer making an investigation under this chapter shall day 
 
 by day enter his proceedings in the investigation in a diary, setting forth the 
 
 time at which the information reached him, the time at which he began and 
 
 closed his investigation, the place or places visited by him, and a statement of 
 
 » the circumstances ascertained through his investigation, 
 
 " Any Criminal Court \\ay send for the police diaries of a case under 
 inquiry or trial in such Court, and may use such diaries, not as evidence in the 
 case, but to aid it in such inquiry or trial. Neither the* accused nor his agents 
 sljall be entitled to call for such diaries, nor shall he or they be entitled to sec 
 them, merely because they are referred to by the Court ; but if they are used by 
 the police-officer who made them to refresh his memory, or if the Court uses 
 them for the purpose of cqijtradicting such police-officer, the provisions of the 
 
 • Indian Evidence Act, 1872, Section i6t or Section 145, as the case may be.Tshall 
 apply." 
 
 t Hy Secti«yi 161 of the Indian Criminal ProcccVire Code every person is 
 •' bound to answer truly all questiohs relating to the case put to him by the 
 investigating police-officer other than questions the answers to which would have 
 a tendency tooJoie him to a criminal charge or to a penahVor forfeiture," and 
 /inder the Indian Penal Code, any person who, being under a legal obligation to 
 tell the trutlv makes any statement which he knows to be false or does not 
 beUeve to be true, commits the offence of perjury.
 
 VI 
 
 At the second trial both the native doctor who made the 
 post-mortem examination of the deceased girl and his Euro- 
 pean superior were present and were cross-examined. It was 
 elicited on this cross-examination that the wound, from which 
 the girl was supposed to have died, was more probably 
 inflicted after death. But the singular thing is that the 
 attendance of these medical men was not compulsory.* In- 
 deed, medical witnesses do not usually appear at the trial when 
 they have been examined before the committing magistrate. 
 Considering that, at the first stage, prisoners are usually 
 without legal advice and^^nd^ cross-examination can take place, 
 this practice is full of dahger. It may be that there are great 
 demands upon the time of medical officers in India, but 
 nothing can justify the practice of receiving evidence which 
 has not been tested by cross-examination, and upon which at 
 the trial no cross-examination can take place. The Judge has 
 a discretionary power to compel the attendance of medical 
 witnesses at the trial, but this is hardly a matter that ought 
 to be left to the discretion of the Judge. A prisoner has a 
 right that no testimony should be admitted at the trial unless 
 his counsel has an opportunity of testing its value. 
 
 Except in providing a proper Court of Criminal Appeal, it 
 would appear that the innovations in criminal procedure that 
 have been introduced in India, so far as this case throws light 
 upon them, are ncft calculated to further the ends of justice. 
 
 W. A. HUNTgR.'' 
 
 ■^ Section 509 of the Indian Criminal Procedure enacts : — 
 " The deposition of a civil surgeon or other medical witness, taken and 
 attested by a magistratejn the presence of the accused, may-^e given in evi- 
 dence in any inquiry, trial, or other proceeding under this code, although the 
 deponent is not called as a witness. . 
 
 " The Court may, if it thinks fit, summon and examin^ ^'ch deponent as 
 to the subject-matter of his deposition."
 
 TRIAL • 
 
 OF 
 
 MULUK CHAND'GHAUKIDAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 RECORD OF THE FIRST TRIAL. 
 
 NUDDEA SESSIONS COURT.— May i 6, 1882. 
 
 (Before P. D. Dickens, Esq., Judge.) 
 
 ' The Empress v. Muluk Chand Chaukidar. 
 
 This case was committed by the Deputy-Magistrate of Bongong, in 
 the district of Nuddea in Bengal, and tried by* the Sessions Court. 
 '?hc prisoner was charged witli having, on the niglit of the 27th 
 Marcli* 1882, murdered his own daughter, Nekjan, aged 9 years, with 
 a view to bring a fals% charge of murder against one Kadam Ali 
 Fakir. The Jury having found the i)risoner guilty, the Judge, 
 who concurrr^d in the verdict, setTtenced tSc prisoner to dcnlh, 
 subject to Confirmation by the High Court. Tlic evidence 
 recorded by^hc Judge at the trial* consisted of the following 
 •depositions : 
 
 * The deposition of Golak Mani, aged about 7 years : —
 
 [The child was first questioned by the Foreman of the Jury, and 
 gave intelHgent answers, and said that to tell a falsehood was a sin. 
 She was then affirmed in the usual way.] 
 
 I remember my sister — my elder sister. Her name was Nekjan. 
 She is dead. She dieel on our verandah. It was night. My father 
 killed her. 
 
 This is m^' father. [Points out prisoner.] '" I myself saw him do it. 
 He first put his foot* on her throat, and afterwards struck her' 
 (tnariachilo) on the body [points to a spot just below the abdomen] 
 with a spear. My sister did not cry out. I was awake. Something 
 touched my body and woke me. I was in the verandah. I said — 
 "■ Baba, maritecho ka7io V A^^Ti'Coi^x, why are you kiUing ? ") He 
 said nothing. I was afraid-^ It was then not dark {pJiarsha). After 
 this my father told me that I was not to tell the daroga (police 
 inspector) if he came, and that I was not to tell my mother when 
 she came back. She had gone the evening before 'to Goga. My 
 sister Nekjan gave me my meal that night. Next morning Dhiru gave 
 me my meal. I told Dhiru in the morning, and my mother and 
 Haru. Haru came first to the house very early in the morning, and I 
 told her first, and then Dhiru came and I told her, and told my 
 mother when she came. 
 
 After my father struck my sister I did not go to sleep. My 
 father after that cried, and I cried. After killing my sister my 
 father went out, and returned some time afterwards. 
 
 I stayed where I was. I did not think of going out and tellings 
 my aunt then. This is the spear — our spear. My father had been 
 sleeping on the same mat (bichana) my sister and I'were sleeping on, 
 before my sister was Jcilled. When I spoke to Haru^first I was in the 
 compound. I was sent to the field by my father on the next day. 
 I did not see the daroga send away the body. I did not. see th'2 
 body taken away. I was sent to the field early in the morning after 
 my meal. » 
 
 ^Iy father had treated me more kindly than he treated my sister ; 
 but he used not to treat her unkjndly. 
 
 I knew my sister was dead, becaase she did not answer me, and 
 when I tried to rouse her by j)ulling her body, she'did not move. 
 
 To Jury. — My father began to cry when he cafn^ back m the 
 morning. 
 
 To Prisoner. — No one hai tutored me. I have spokefi the trufh.
 
 5 
 
 \^Note by the Judge. — This little child gave her evidence intelli- 
 gently, and in a way which impressed me with a belief that she had 
 witnessed the scene she described, and was wot repeating a story 
 learned by rote.] 
 
 (Sd!) P. Dickens. 
 
 Witness No. 2., 
 
 Deposition of Adhar Chandra Chakravarti, aged al^out 35 
 years, taken on solemn afifirmation under the provisions of Act X. of 
 1873, before me, P. Dickens, Esq., Sessions Judge of Nuddea, the 
 1 6th day of May, 1882 : — ; |«^ 
 
 My name is Adhar Chandra Chakravarti. My father's name is 
 Ramkumar Chakravarti. I am by caste Brahmin. I reside at present 
 in Mouza Bongong, where I am Civil Hospital Assistant, in charge 
 of Bongong Sub-Division. 
 
 I examined the body of a girl identified to me as the body of 
 Nckjan by Dwarika, constable, on the evening of the 29th March, 
 Wednesday, about 4 p.m. 
 
 Decomposition was setting in on the scalp, but not on the 
 body. . 
 
 I made a posi-mortem examination, and have drawn out a report. 
 This is the report [marked Ex. A. put in and read]. 
 
 When I say the mouth was closed and the tongue protruded, I 
 tncan that the teeth had closed on the tongue, which was protruding. 
 
 The protrusion of tl%e tongue and the congestion of the eyes are 
 • signs of strangulation. 
 
 I did not suspect strangulation, and therefore made no cxamina- 
 lion under the skin to see if there were marks of pressure under the 
 skin -if 'the throat. , 
 
 The wound on the loin was sufficient to cause death. The wound 
 was a gaping wound, V.<r., the lips of the wound had not closed- It 
 was a wound visible to anybody looking at the corpse. I sec tliis 
 spear. Thejwound I speak of could have been caused by this spear. 
 The child was not a healthy cliild. Her liver was enlarged. 
 
 Ti) Court. -j-ThcxQ was a sari (cloth) on the bfidy »P to the waist. 
 No blood whatever on it. There were signs of internal bleeding. 
 None of fuiake-bite. 
 
 , * (Sd.) P. DiCKKNS.
 
 POS'i;-MORTEM REPORT, EX. A. 
 
 • 
 
 Hour of 
 Despatch. 
 
 Hour of 
 Examina- 
 tion. 
 
 Information furnished by the Police. 
 
 29th March, 
 
 1882, 
 
 at 10 A.M. 
 
 29th March, 
 
 1882, 
 at 4J P.M. 
 
 Death by snake-bite. Deceased's father could 
 not give any information regarding the-death. An 
 incised wound of a triangular form, measuring 
 about one finger, was found ofl the epigastric 
 region. 
 
 Condition 
 OF Subject. 
 
 Emaciated. 
 
 Wounds. 
 
 Bruises. 
 
 One punctured w^und resembling the character 
 of an incised wound on the epigastric region mea- 
 suring one inch long, J inch broad, and about J 
 inch deep ; this wound has penetrated into the 
 convex surface of the left lobe of the liver about J 
 inch deep; there was also one scratch mark about 
 2 inches long, | inch broad, on left cheek. 
 
 None. 
 
 Mark of 
 Ligature 
 ON Neck. 
 
 Scalp, Skull, and Vertebra. 
 
 • 
 
 None. 
 
 Scalp nesftly decomposed, skull and vertebrae 
 healthy. 
 
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 8 
 
 Mouth shut up, tongue swollen, enlarged and protruded ; eyes 
 congested ; frothy blood came out from the nostrils ; one scratch 
 mark on the left chdsk, 2 inches long, | inch broad; and one punc- 
 tured wound on the epigastric region measuring about one inch long, 
 |- inch broad and abeut i inch deep. This has penetrated into the 
 convex surface of the left lobe of the liver about J inch deep. 
 About 3 out>ces of liquid blood was found on the ab,dominal cavity. 
 
 I am of opinion tkat the deceased met with her death by the 
 penetrating wound of the abdomen. 
 
 (Sd.)' A. C. Chakravarti, 
 
 Civil Hospital Assistant, Bongong. 
 
 The wound in the abdomen was probably the cause of death. 
 
 (Sd.) J. Brander, 
 
 * Civil Surgeon, 
 
 Witness No. 3. 
 
 Deposition of Ramdas Sirkar, aged about 30 years, taken on 
 solemn affirmation : — 
 
 My father's name is Joychand Sirkar. I am by caste Kayast. 
 My house is at Mouzah Sa'-sa, where I am a head-constable of 
 police. 
 
 I am in charge of Sarsa Thanna (police station). I was in 
 charge on the 27th of March last. I received information of this 
 murder on the 28th March (Tuesday) at about 3I p.m. 
 
 The information was given by the acqiised.* He brought no 
 written information. 
 
 To Court. — It is customary to bring a written information in 
 cases of murder. • 
 
 I took down his sVitement in writing correctly. This is#not Tt. 
 [Note by the Judge. — The first izahar (information) is not with the 
 recopd, and I cannot admit secondary evidence of its contents.] 
 
 The prisoner after making his izahar (statement) went home. I 
 followed, and arrived at the villdge at i\ a.m. on the morning of the 
 29th March. I saw the body of a child. It was lying in the verandah 
 of the house of Muluk Chand, the prisoner. The .body wac then 
 
 * The information given by the accused was to the effect that on his return * 
 home that morning from his field, at about 4 A.M., he found his chil(f dead in bfd, 
 and that he did not know the cause of death.
 
 • 
 
 lying on its back. The legs were not doubled or drawn up, but 
 stretched out. The arms were straight and by the side o( the 
 corpse. It was lying on a mat. I saw no blood-stain at all on the 
 mat. 
 
 The verandah showed no signs of having been freshly leped 
 (wiped) or cleaned. 
 
 I saw a wound — the Sdges were not closed but open.. No blood 
 was coming out. The accused was there. » 
 
 The pwichayet (village headman) was there, and the prisoner's 
 wife was there. I did not see Golak Chokri (girl) there.' The 
 prisoner said he could not tell how she had come by her death. 
 
 The prisoner's wife did not then ihajje any statement to me. I 
 made this map. It is correct as a rough nlap, though not drawn to 
 scale. I did not see Golak Mani all that day (the 29th). 
 
 The next day I was at the thanna (police station). I made no 
 attempt at investigation on that day, the 29th. I took down only 
 the sLitement of the prisoner in writing. I did not take down the 
 statement of the wife in writing. She told me nothing about the 
 murder. I made the map on the 31st March, when I returned with 
 the inspector who investigated the case. 
 
 To Jury. — The thanna (station) is nine miles from the village. 
 • I forwarded the body on the 29th March in Dwarik's charge. I did 
 not see the spear or this ba^i (sword) the first day I went there. I 
 cn(iuircd for no weapons that day. I can't say why I went away 
 fsom the village without making further report in the case. I made 
 a written report that day. This is it. [Ex. C] 
 
 Having made this intjucst report, I returned without making any 
 enquiry into the crime. I first began to investigate that on the 31st, 
 when I went on with the inspector. 
 r (Sd.) P. Dickens. 
 
 •Witness No. 4. 
 
 ' » 
 
 The deposition of Barahti, aged about 25 years, taken on solemn 
 affirmation :— ' 
 
 My father's name is Khodahux, Mussulman. My house is at 
 Mouzflh I'hu'al* where I was living with my husba.sd. 
 
 The accused is my husband. I had a daughter named Nekjan. 
 She is dcwd. She was about 8 or so.. She was older than Golak. 
 I !iad a little son aged 2\. The night that Nekjan died I was not
 
 lO 
 
 < 
 
 in my house. I had gone to Goga. My husband had sent me to 
 Goga the evening before. He first told me to go about midday, 
 and I started in the evening about a danda (24 minutes) before 
 sunset. I was told to fetch money from his brother, Gopal, to meet 
 the expenses of a cA'se brought against him by Fakir. I got no 
 money. I returned next day about four danda or so in the morning, 
 the time the cows are taken to the field. *I heard r-ries. My child 
 Golak was crying, and my husband was also crying. I saw the body 
 of Nekjan lying in the verandah. I saw a hole in the body just 
 above the abdomen. The wound was not bleeding. It looked dry. 
 I questioned the accused, saying — "How has this happened?" He 
 said — " I went to look after my onions, and don't know how she was 
 killed ". I said — " I have no quarrel with anyone ; who has done 
 this ? No one has done it but you." I did say — " Is this why you 
 sent me to Goga ? " He said — " Think about the means of escape ". 
 I then asked the little girl, and she told me in answer to my ques- 
 tions that her father had put his foot on the child's neck, and {maria- 
 phelya) after she was killed thrust the spear into her. 
 
 I believed the girl's statement, and I said to him — " I won't give 
 you rice any more with my own hand," to which he made the 
 answer — " Toviar hatai hhat amar ar khaetai hoeba na ".* After that 
 I cooked no food for him. I did not notice the spear then. I see' 
 this spear. [Produced.] It is my husband's. He has one spear only. 
 This weapon {bagi) is also his. They were usually kept in the 
 thatch of the verandah. The daroga (police officer) came next day. 
 I did not see the daroga. He asked me r^9 question. He came to 
 the house, but I was in a different verandah from the verandah the 
 corpse was in, and I was not brought before the daroga. He did 
 not ask me any question that day. I was first questioned two d^^vs 
 afterwards by the other daroga (inspector), and I told him ^what' I 
 have told the Court. 
 
 I can't say why I did not tell the ddroga the first day and 
 denounce my husband. It was not from fear. I had my children, 
 and I had not seen th,e act mysslf, and I was not asked. 
 
 I had taken the two youngest children with me to Goga, because 
 the youngest wa§ at the brea^st, and the elder cried, ^and I could not 
 leave her alone. I 
 
 There was a case pending against my husband. ^ Fakir had' 
 
 * " I shall not have to eat rice from your h^nds any more." ^
 
 II 
 
 brought that case. He was the complainant, and it was about his 
 wife. 
 
 To Jury. — Before this I was on good terms with my husband, and 
 he treated me kindly. 
 
 {Note by the Judge. — This wntness gave hei" evidence freely and 
 without any apparent wish to make any points against her husband, 
 and without any display of animus against him.] • 
 
 m 
 
 (Sd.) P. Dickens. 
 i6th May, 1882. 
 
 Witness No. 5. 
 
 Deposition of Haru, aged 40 years :—? 
 
 I am living with my son. My husbandls just dead. I remember 
 a morning — a Tuesday morning — about two months ago, hearing of 
 Nekjan's death. My house is about two or three riisliis (80 or ^120 
 yards) from the prisoner's house. This is Muluk Chand. He was 
 the father of Nekjan. That morning I went to his house he was 
 crying, and a little girl, Golak, was crying. It was then quite light 
 (broad day), but the sun had not risen. I heard no cries (calls), but 
 merely sobs. I saw Muluk Chand sitting in the verandah and the 
 little girl. I saw Nekjan's body in the verandah. I went close to the 
 • verandah, and stood and looked at the body. 
 
 I did not go up the stairs into the verandah. 
 
 To Court. — The body was lying on its back. The legs and arms 
 ^were stretched out, not drawn up. I asked C.olak what had happened. 
 She said — "My father pm his foot on her throat and thrust his spear 
 into her ". My child then began to cry, and I had to go. I had left 
 her at home. I did not question Muluk Chand. I then saw that 
 th^ dead child had a wound above the abdomen. I saw no blood 
 aWout. When the child Golak told me thi.s. her father got up and 
 threatened her, saying — " If you say this I will put my foot on your 
 throat ". 
 
 Then I went away. I saw the daroga (i)olice officer) come next 
 day, I did not tell him that day, but two dayj afterwards. 
 
 {Note by the Judge. — I admit this statement under Section 157, 
 Ev. Act.] ^ , ^ 
 
 t Witness No. 6. 
 
 The doposition of Dhiru, aged ab^ut 40 years, taken on solemn 
 affirmation, i6th of May : —
 
 12 
 
 My father's name is Khoda Bux. I am by caste Mahomedan. 
 My home is at Mouza Bhulat, where I am Hving with my husband. 
 
 I knew Nekjan,, Muluk Chand, prisoner, was her father. My 
 house is about one mshi (40 yards) off his. I remember her death. 
 It took place about -two months ago. Next morning early I heard 
 Muluk Chand crying. I went there. Golak was sitting near the 
 corpse. I psaw the body of Nekjan in thd verandah, but I did not 
 look carefully. I asl'.ed the little girl, but she said nothing then. 
 Muluk Chand said nothing then. I went back home, and shortly 
 after\\''ards I called the little girl to my house, to take her food. About 
 2, prahar dSxtx sunrise (9 A.M.) I questioned the child, saying — " You 
 were sleeping with your sifter ? How did she die ? " She said the 
 baba (father) put his foot on her neck and killed her. She did not 
 then mention the spear. I suspected then the father. Her mother 
 was not then at home. She came at bathing time. I did not see 
 her, however, that day. I did not go near the house that day again. 
 I know nothing more. 
 
 To Jury. — I can't say why the father did such a deed. He 
 
 treated her well before this. 
 
 (Sd.) P. Dickens. 
 
 Witness No. 7. 
 
 The deposition of Uma Charan Sircar, aged about 40 years, 
 taken on oath or solemn affirmation, under the provisions of Act X. 
 of 1873, before me, P. Dickens, Sessions Judge of Nuddea, this i6th 
 day of May, 1882 : — ^' 
 
 My name is Uma Charan Sircar. My father's name is Bangsi- 
 dhar Sircar. I am by caste Kopali. My home is at Mouza Bhulat. 
 I am a punchayet and cultivator. *" 
 
 I know the accused. He is the chaukidar (watchman'; of my 
 village. I knew Nekjan, his daughter. On the i6th Chaitra (28th 
 March) last I got some information from Umesh Ghazi, in conse-' 
 quence of which I went to the house of accused. Accused was there. 
 I got to the house afbout (our dandas after sunrise (7 a.m.). I saw 
 the body of Nekjan in the verandah, covered by cloth. I saw no 
 blood on the clcA.h or on the *mat. I did not go into^he verandah. I 
 looked from outside. I questioned Muluk Chand as to the wound J 
 saw on the chest above the ^bdomen. He said he could'not say who 
 had caused that wound. I saw this spear lying in the road five or
 
 *seven haths (3 or 4 yards) from the verandah, and I saw this bagi 
 
 lying close to a blacksmith's shop — four bigahs (160 yards) from the 
 
 verandah. I asked why the spear and bagi were out there, and 
 
 he said he didn't know. He said they were both his. I said — " Leave 
 
 the things exactly where they were, and go and give information to 
 
 the police ". I gave him no written ittala (notice). I said I would 
 
 write one, but he went without coming to me for it. I did not see 
 
 either Golak or ttie mother when I went to the house. I did not 
 
 then ask anyone else. I suspected the prisoner somewhat because 
 
 of his weapons lying about. He told me he thought she musS have 
 
 died from snake-bite. 
 
 To Court. — This was after I saw the wound. 
 
 '•> 
 
 (Sd.) P. Dickens. 
 
 Recalled. — The man Fakir, who has brought a criminal charge 
 against accused, is Hving in the same village. 
 
 (Sd.) P. Dickens, 
 
 Sessions jftidge. 
 
 Witness No. 8. 
 
 The deposition of Dr. Brander, aged about — years, taken on 
 oath before me, P. Dickens, Sessions Judge of Nuddca, this i6th 
 day of May, 1882 : — 
 
 I am Civil Surgeon of Nuddea. I have read and considered this 
 post-mortem report. Thcwippcarances, recorded by the examiner, arc 
 consistent with death having been caused by the spear wound. A 
 wound one inch deep would puncture the liver, and cause death, but 
 nc4 in my opinion iinmediate death necessarily ; but it might cause 
 irnmed'i^te death by shock. If a man of the^ weight of the accused 
 were to put his foot on the neck of a slight child, it would be 
 • sufficient to cause death' The pressure alone would cause dcath^ by 
 .suffocation. I should say death was caused immediately by the 
 wound, but there is nothing inconsistent with strangulation and 
 partial suffocation. As a rule, bayonet or spear wounds do leave a 
 convulsed appearance on the body, but if .strangulation was taking 
 place, or had <aken place, the body would not have the vital energy 
 to develop ^e position which is characteristic of the death caused 
 sol«ily by spear-wounds.
 
 H 
 
 I can explain the absence of blood externally in this way, that if 
 the death was owing to a mixed cause, by suffocation and the thrust, 
 the arterial system would have become partially inactive as the result 
 of the suffocation, and would not have caused the expulsion of blood 
 to a distance, which would have been the case if the spear-wound 
 alone had been the cause of death. This may also be explained by 
 internal bleeding. The ventricles of the .heart are reported empty. 
 Bleeding, therefore, must have supervened. It ' may have been 
 internal. 
 
 Tc J2iiy. — If the edges of the wound were gaping, the wound 
 must have been caused before life was wholly extinct. 
 
 t ■ (Sd.) P. Dickens. 
 
 c 
 
 Ex. D, 
 
 Examination of the Accused Person. 
 
 The examination of Muluk Chand Chaukidar, aged about 35 
 years, taken before me, Gopal Chandra Mukerji, Deputy- Magistrate, 
 ist class, at Bongong, on the 31st day of March, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Muluk Chand Chaukidar. My father's name is 
 Ashruf Sirdar. I am by caste Mahomedan, and by occupation 
 chmikidar. My home is at ^ouza Bhulat. 
 
 Q. — Did you murder your daughter Nekjan ? 
 
 A. — No, I did not kill her. 
 
 O. — On what date, and when did she die? 
 
 A. — Early on Tuesday I went to look after my onion field ; lio 
 one was in the house except the two girV ; my wife had gone to 
 Goga on Monday afternoon. On my return from the field I saw 
 my eldest daughter, Nekjan, lying at a little distance from her bed. 
 I called her, but she did not answer. I felt her body, but she did ffot 
 move. When it was ^aylight I saw that she had a wound, ^nd \<as 
 dead, and my daughter, Golak Jan, was asleep. I began to cry. At 
 fouc or six dandas of the day (8 a.m.) I Was going to the t/ianna, . 
 when I was arrested by a piada (peon) on the complaint of Kadam 
 Ali Fakir, who had ta^en out a- warrant against me. 
 
 Q. — After that, when did you go to the thanna ? 
 
 A. — After rqidday I went to the ihatma an/^l informed the 
 daroga (police inspector). ' 
 
 Q. — How far is the thanna from your house ? ,^ 
 
 A. — Four or four-and-a-half ^^j (8 or 9 miles).
 
 15 
 
 Q. — When did you ICfive your daughters and go to the field ? 
 
 A. — When there was one prahar of the night remaining (3 a.m.). 
 
 Q. — Why did you send your wife away from your house ? 
 
 A. — To obtain money, with a view to defray the expenses of the 
 case that was pending against me. 
 
 Q. — Is this spear yours ? 
 
 A.— Yes. 
 
 Q. — Why does it look as if it had been rubbed ? 
 
 A. — I cannot say, I did not rub it. I did not take it with me to 
 the field. I took my laiti (stick). -■ 
 
 Q. — When you go to the field or to your watch do you carry the 
 spear or the latii ? 
 
 A. — Sometimes I take the spear, sometimes I take the Z^/// (stick) . 
 
 Q. — Whom do you suspect having killed your daughter? 
 
 A. — I did nor see anyone killing her, and my suspicion does not 
 fall on anyone; but I have a quarrel with Kadam Ali Fakir and Mifun. 
 
 Q. — How many spears have you got ? 
 
 A. — Only this one; the other one has been falsely produced as 
 mine. 
 
 Q. — Had your daughter any ornaments on her person? 
 
 A.— No. 
 
 Examination of the Accused. 
 
 Under Section 346 of the Criminal Procedure Code, by Mr, 
 Dickens, Sessions Judge of Nuddea, dated the i6th May, 1882. 
 
 My name is Mululx Chand Chaukidar. My father's name 
 Ashruf Chaukidar ; by caste, Mussulman ; inhabitant of Goga, 
 Thanna Sharsha, at present residing at Bhulat. 
 ^ Q, — Are you guilty of the charge ? 
 • A.— I am not guilty. 
 
 Q. — Did you make this statement before the Deputy-Magistrate, 
 and is it correct ? [Read, exhibit D.] 
 
 A. — Yes, I made this statement, and it is correct. 
 
 Q. — Why did you send your wife Lo Gagan,. instead of going there 
 yourself? 
 
 A. — Lest thf; police should find m2 absent froiji the village and 
 beat me ; thr(^igh fear of this, I did not go. 
 
 n. — Why did you not go during the day? 
 ■A. — They (my people at Goga) do not stay at home during the
 
 i6 
 
 day, but go out to the field, &c., and cannot be found at home' 
 during the day, so I did not go during the day. 
 
 Q. — You have said that you saw, on your return from the field at 
 night, that your daughter was lying at some distance from her bed, 
 and that you called the neighbours at daybreak. Why did you not 
 light a lamp as soon as you came and saw, and why did you not 
 immediately call your neighbours instead of. keeping quiet ? 
 
 A. — I called out for my neighbours as soon as I'saw my child oji 
 my return from the field. 
 
 Q,— Did you tell the putichayet of the village and the police at 
 the t/ianna that your daughter had died of snake-bite? 
 
 A. — Yes, I said that my neighbours say that my child has died 
 of snake-bite. , ' 
 
 Q. — Will you call any witnesses ? 
 
 A.— Yes, I will. 
 'Q. — What will they say? 
 
 A. — They will say that they said about the snake-bite. 
 
 P. Dickens, ' ' 
 
 Sessions Jttdgc. 
 
 [The prisoner called three neighbours as witnesses for the defence, 
 and these men said they knew nothing as to how the child died, but' 
 that they had heard a report in the village to the effect that she had 
 died from snake-bite.] 
 
 THE JUDGE'S CHARGE t6 THE JURY. 
 
 Gentlemen of the Jury, — The prisoner is charged with murder- 
 ing his own child, a little girl of 9 years of age. There is no question^of 
 law on which I need detain you. If you find that the prisoner fias com- 
 mixed the act with which he stands charged, it will be your duty to , 
 return a verdict of guilty of murder under section 302, Penal Code. 
 The question which "you, gentlemen, have to try, then, is a question 
 of pure fact : Did the prisoner really kill his daughter, as alleged ? 
 
 The prisoner in his defence has relied on the primd facie want of 
 motive : Why should I have killed my daughter ? The motive 
 alleged is, that the prisoner was at enmity with one Kadam Ali Fakir,
 
 17 
 
 * who had brought a criminal charge against him (whether for adultery 
 or taking his wife away is not shown); that criminal proceedings were 
 imminent ; and that either to implicate his enemy or to save himself 
 and stave off further proceedings, he murdered his own child. The 
 motive briefly would, therefore, be 'partly revenge, partly self-preserva- 
 tion. It is proved bei'ond doubt that criminal proceedings were 
 •impending on the 27th March. Now, the ^ormity of the offence 
 charged must not be allowed by you to obscure your judgment in 
 dealing with the evidence as to its commission. Neither should you 
 allow the apparent weakness of the motive, in comparison with the 
 magnitude of the crime, to obscure your JMdgment. The prosecution 
 cannot, of course, be answerable for the former, and with regard to 
 the latter, it is my duty to direct you that the prosecution is not 
 bound to prove the motive. It is sufficient if they prove beyond 
 reasonable doubt that the prisoner committed the act. [A passage from 
 the charge of Campbell, C.J., in Reg. v. Palmer, quoted at page 44, 
 Wills on Evidence, fourth edition, was here read.] Now, the prose- 
 cution have indicated a motive, and have shown that there was 
 , pressure of immediate difficulties. He 1iad to meet a serious criminal 
 charge, and had no funds in hand to meet it with. The adequacy 
 of the motive is no doubt a matter for your consideration. But it is 
 !lot a point which the prosecution is legally — that is, as a matter of 
 law — bound to prove. ** 
 
 It lies on the prosecution, firstly, to prove by the medical evidence 
 
 that the crime of murder was committed ; and, secondly, to establish 
 
 i« your minds a reasonable belief, amounlmg to a moral certainty, 
 
 that the prisoner committed that crime. It is their duty to prove 
 
 . these two points by the* best evidence which the nature of the .case 
 
 . admits. If, by the best evidence which the case is capable of, they 
 
 induce this degree of bchef in your minds, such a conviction, that is, 
 
 as you would each act upon in the gravest affairs of your own lives, 
 
 you must ncj|t hesitate in doing your duty on speculative doubts as 
 
 'to the adequacy of the motive. It is, no doubt, an atrocious and 
 
 violently improbable act for a father to kill his own child. But it is
 
 i8 
 
 a still more atrocious and violently improbable act for a man's wife 
 and child and neighbours to compass his death by deliberately per- 
 jured testimony. You are face to face with two violent improbabili- 
 ties, one of which, according to the laws of thought, must be true. 
 Either the child is speaking truly or not : if she is, her father is 
 guilty ; if she is not, she has been suborned to take away her father's 
 life by deliberate falsehood. And her mother, her aunt, and hei 
 neighbours have voluntarily joined this conspiracy. Whichever 
 hypothesis you adopt, a shock is given to ordinary experience and 
 ordinary probability, and yet it is absolutely certain that one must be 
 true. , ■ 
 
 Atrocity for atrocity — apart from any evidence, you are asked to 
 accept the lesser. 
 
 But you are bound to decide the issue of the prisoner's innocence 
 or guilt on the evidence before you. Leaving, therefore, mere 
 speculation as to conflicting probabilities and the inscrutable mystery 
 of motive, it is your duty to examine the direct evidence in this case, 
 and to see if it is consistent with all the other facts of the case — 
 with medical evidence and with the circumstantial- evidence. You 
 must test the truth of the direct evidence, that is, the girl Golak's 
 evidence, in every possible way by these external tests, and you 
 should also test it by the internal touchstone of demeanour. If the 
 way in which the child gave her testimony Las impressed you favour- 
 ably ; if you can come to the conclusion that the manner of her 
 narrative was that of an eye-witness and not of a child repeating a 
 lesson ; if you find her testimony corroborated by the other witnesses, 
 under Section 157, Evidence Act, and borne out by the medical 
 evidence, and by the circumstances on which the prosecution relies 
 as inculpatory facts — then the direct evidence of the child is legally 
 sufficient for conviction. It is sufficient in law, and, if corroborated 
 to your satisfaction, you should have no hesitation in convicting 
 upon it. 
 
 I say, if corroborated, because though, legally, corrpboration is 
 not needed, I could not advise you to accept the evidence of a child
 
 19 
 
 of that age unless it was very strongly corroborated. A child of six 
 or seven, especially in this country, is unquestionably of sufficient 
 intelligence to narrate truly and distinctly what she has really seen. 
 The theory for the defence, in fact, tacitly adijiits that the child is a 
 competent witness, for on that theory she is a perjured and suborned 
 witness. If she is inlellt-ctually capable of giving an ab«olutely false 
 'description of a scene she never witnessed, ift a manner sufficiently 
 natural and life-like to deceive educated and experienced gentlemen 
 like yourselves, she is, a fortiori, capable of describing events of 
 which she was an actual spectator. The theory, then, that she is a 
 tutored witness destroys and cuts away the arguments that she is an 
 incompetent witness. For my own part, I have formed, in the course 
 of a somewhat lengthy criminal experience, a very high opinicji of 
 the caifecity'of young children in India to relate vividly what they 
 have actually seen, provided, of course, that the facts are of sufficient 
 importance to impress themselves on their memory. You, gentlemen, 
 however, are sole judges of facts in this case, and you must not take 
 my opinion on this point as a direction on the degree of weight you 
 
 • should attach to her evidence. 
 
 [The evidence of Golak was here read.] 
 
 . ' Having laid this girl's evidence before you, I now propose to go 
 through the other evidence, and to indicate the matter for your 
 decision on the following points : — 
 
 ^ (i) Whether the medical evidence supports the girl's testimony 
 ofi important particulars ; , 
 
 (2) Whether the rest of the direct oral evidence supports the 
 
 * girl's statements ; 
 
 (3) Whether the circumstantial evidence, especially the conduct 
 of the prisoner, corroborates it or not. 
 
 [The evidence of Dr. lirandcr was here read.] 
 
 » 
 
 4 
 
 Now, tWis evidence, and what you, have heard from the native 
 doctor, very distinctly corroborate the girl's story as to the manner
 
 20 
 
 of her sister's death, that is, the double nature of the means employed, 
 as to what Dr. Brander calls the mixed character of the cause of 
 death. The absence of blood is a peculiar feature as to which all 
 the witnesses agree. It is, of course, possible that some blopd-stains 
 may have been removed by the prisoner before the body was first 
 seen ; but the medical evidence appears t6 account sufficiently for 
 the absence, by concomitant or antecedent strangulation coupled 
 with internal bleeding. The position of the body and the position 
 of the wound on the apex of the abdomen point also to internal 
 bleeding. But the absence of blood externally, and the very slight 
 depth of the wound, are, k appears to me, important corroboration of 
 the child's statements. If the child was not killed by the prisoner, 
 the^murder must have been committed by an outsider and an enemy. 
 The child wore no ornaments. An outsider, if intending to murder, 
 and using a spear to effect his purpose, would, in all probability, have 
 struck home, that is, deeply, and withdrawn the spear quickly, in 
 which case there would have been two things : (i) a discharge of 
 blood, and (2) a deeper wound. Whereas if death were caused 
 really by a heavy man's foot upon the throat, if suffocation had 
 partially or completely supervened, if the spear had been inserted 
 deliberately and slightly, not to kill, but to give a colour to the 
 theory of murder by an outsider, and slowly withdrawn, the admitted 
 circumstances of the absence of blood-stains and the shallowness of 
 the wound are satisfactorily explained. Here, then, in the scientific 
 testimony, which is above suspicion, is a species of corroborati'on 
 which could not have been foreseen by the concoctors of a fabricated 
 story. 
 
 "I now come to the direct oral testimony which is adduced to 
 corroborate the truth of the girl's story. 
 
 [Evidence of Haru, Dhiru, Bahrati, was here laid before the Jury.] 
 (. > 
 
 These witnesses all agree in saying that the girU told them the 
 
 same story on the morning q{ the 28th March, and before the police 
 
 came near the village. 
 
 /
 
 21 
 
 If they are speaking the truth, these facts afford the strongest 
 possible corroboration of that story. If the child has been suborned, 
 they also must have been suborned to support her. It is for you to 
 weigh this body of evidence, and to come to a conclusion for your- 
 selves as to whether it is trustworthy. There is a discrepancy 
 between the evidence of*Haru and the girl as to the plaqe where the 
 Statement was made. The child says that it was in the utan (yard), 
 the woman says that it was in the verandah, the child was sitting. But 
 that is very trifling, for the woman at all events was in the iitan^ and 
 it does not appear to be a point to which much importance should be 
 attached. I shall have to comment further «on the mother's evidence, 
 but for the present I will leave it, and come to the third branch of 
 the evidence — the circumstances which the prosecution relies on as 
 inculpatory. 
 
 And first as to the spear. The spear produced is admitted by the 
 
 prisoner to be his, and there seems no reason to doubt that the 
 
 murder, whoever committed it, was committed with that spear. If 
 
 not, why (on the hypothesis of the prisoner's innocence) was it left 
 
 . lying outside for the punchayet to see ? Taking it, then, to be the 
 
 spear or weapon with which the murder was committed, whoever 
 
 committed it, which theory best accords with ordinary experience 
 
 . and reasonable probability— the child's story that the supposed 
 
 murderer used his owrr spear, or the theory that an outsider used 
 
 the prisoner's spear ? That the night was dark is an admitted fact. 
 
 It is proved that the spear was usually kept in the thatch of the 
 
 verandah, a place where the darkness of the night would be intensified. 
 
 When a person comes in the darkness of the night to commit a 
 
 • deliberate murder on a neighbour's child, does he come crinply- 
 
 . handed ? Does he not usually come with some instrument— a club, 
 
 a dao, or a spear— to accomplish his design^ The theory for the 
 
 defence would require the outsiders tq have come empty-handed, or 
 
 not to have#used the weapon they brought. Again, looking at the 
 
 fact that tjie place where the spear was kept was in the thatch, the 
 
 outsider was either a man familiar with the house or he was not. If 
 
 \
 
 22 
 
 not, it is extremely unlikely that he would have found the spear in the 
 dark ; if yes, it is extremely unlikely that he would have come 
 empty-handed, relyiilg on finding the spear. The prisoner says he 
 usually took the spear when absent at night, and an outsider must, if 
 intending murder, have counted on his absence. As far as it goes, 
 then, the wegipon used corroborates the chili's story. The prisoner 
 unquestionably had the weapon with which death was inflicted, and 
 it is improbable that any outside murderer would have come intending 
 to use that weapon, and unprovided with a weapon of his own. I 
 would not advise you to attach excessive importance to this point if 
 it stood alone, but it is, as Var as it goes, corroborative. In coming 
 to a conclusion as to the truth of the girl's evidence — in other words, 
 as to the prisoner's guilt or innocence, the conduct of the prisoner 
 himself becomes an element of the utmost importance — a test, under 
 the peculiar circumstances of the case, of the highest value. What 
 was his conduct before the event ? — at the time of the event ? — after 
 the event? Was it on the whole consistent withthe conduct of an 
 innocent man in his position? Was it consistent with the conduct of 
 a man against whom, on the hypothesis of innocence, an abominable 
 crime had been committed ? These are important questions for you, 
 gentlemen, and on your answers to these questions, it is plain, much 
 will depend. It is for you to decide what answers you will give to 
 these questions, and what effect these answers will have on the 
 conclusion to which you may come on the whole case. I will merely 
 point out the bearing of the evidence on these points. 
 
 First, — What was the conduct of the prisoner before the event 
 He sends his wife away the evening before, so as to ensure her absence 
 during the night ; for what ostensible purpose ? To fetch money 
 (which was not forthcoming) from his own brother. Not from her 
 relatives, be it remarked — from his brother. The village Goga is 
 within an easy di<jtance — half-an-hour's walk or twenty minutes' run 
 for a strong and tall man like the prisoner. And yet hd does not go 
 himself, but sends his wife. You have seen that sending his wife 
 entailed her taking the two youngest children, and disturbing t^e 
 
 /
 
 23 
 
 ordinary household arrangements. You have heard the prisoner's ex- 
 planation of this act, and it is for you to decide whether it is a suffi- 
 cient or satisfactory explanation. Such an act, eVen if altogether un- 
 explained, is not, of course, inconsistent with^ innocence, and if it 
 stood alone, could not, of course, support a legal inference of guilt. 
 But if, in your opinion, -insufficiently explained, it is a c4rcunistance 
 ?i'hich adds to the cumulative force of the inculpatory facts — a cir- 
 cumstance corroborative of the theory for the prosecution. 
 
 Second, — What was the conduct of the prisoner at the time of the 
 
 event, i.e., on the night of the murder? [Prisoner's statement before 
 
 the Magistrate read.] He comes home in tT^ dark ; he finds his child, 
 
 on his own showing, dead. He strikes no light. He gives no alarm. 
 
 He does i|Dt (on the hypothesis of innocence) then know what is^the 
 
 matter with her. It may be snake-bite ; it may be a sudden seizure 
 
 of illness. What would a man ordinarily do under such circumstances? 
 
 Would he not get a light, and call his neighbours ? The aunt of the 
 
 girl, the sister of the man's absent wife, is living within hail, yet the 
 
 |)risoner admittedly does not summon her to his help. He waits till 
 
 •it is light, and then examines, and sees a death-wound on his child's 
 
 body. Even then he gives no alarm. He calls no one. He begins 
 
 to wail and weep in such a way that his neighbours, then astir, hear 
 
 ■X it'and come to inquire. Far be it from me to say that his weeping 
 
 at seeing his child lying murdered— were he an innocent man— would 
 
 be improhable or unnatural. But on his own showing the outburst 
 
 of .sorrow did not come till the break of day, and the question is 
 
 whether his conduct antecedent to the outburst of sorrow, real or pre- 
 
 tended, is compatible with the conduct of an innocent man. The 
 
 •woman Haru swears it was broad daylight when she went. Wh-] up 
 
 • to that time had the prisoner called no one to his help ? If help was 
 
 past, why had he called no one to witness the abominable crime, the 
 
 foul murder that had been perpetrated io his house \ You have seen 
 
 that in his stalement to the Magistrate he distinctly said that he came 
 
 home in thi dark, and did not see th^ wound till the dawn came. 
 
 He cpuld not, if that statement be true (and it was admittedly made
 
 and correctly recorded), have known that help was past. When asked 
 to explain his conduct by me, he sees the importance of the inference, 
 and attempts to contradict his former statement — whether satisfactorily 
 or not is for you to judge. 
 
 Third, — What is his conduct after the event? His position 
 compels himto report the death. He knowi. an inquiry must follow. 
 Does he take proper sl^ps to report the real facts, to place the magni- 
 tude of the crime in the true light, to insist on justice being done on 
 the unknown murderer ? No, he tries to stifle the inquiry by report- 
 ing at the than?ia that the neighbours say it is a case of snake-bite. 
 The written information has unfortunately not been sent up, as it ought 
 to have been, by the Deputy-Magistrate, and I have accordingly been 
 unable to admit secondary evidence of its contents. But the post- 
 mortem report shows that the case was reported in the first instance 
 as a case of snake-bite, and the prisoner has admitted before you that 
 on going to the thanna he mentioned that the neighbours said it was 
 a case of snake-bite. He has called three witnesses, telling you that 
 they, would prove this statement. Here, therefore, is no bona fide 
 and straightforward charge of murder made in the first instance by an 
 outraged parent. An attempt to stifle inquiry is made by a false repre- 
 sentation. But, it may be asked, does not this at all events cut away the 
 ground from under the feet of the prosecution ? Does it not clearly 
 show that the prisoner had no miimus against Kadam All ? Does not 
 the alleged motive, the object of the prisoner's alleged act, the founda- 
 tion of the case, fail? At first sight, gentlemen, it does. There, is 
 no doubt a complete cljange of front. But if you examine ^he evi- 
 dence carefully, the reason will be apparent. If Haru's evidence be 
 true,' the prisoner knew that he could not shut his child's mouth. 
 Before the sun rose his own child had declared him to be a murderer. 
 His coup had failed before ihe. punchayet came ; he must have felt (if 
 his child's evidence be true, end if Haru's evidence, be true), that it 
 was hopeless to carry out his intentions — that in attempting to strike^ 
 down his enemy he would inj'olve himself in ruin, and tKat his only 
 chance of safety lay in burking the inquiry. , On that hypothesis 
 
 /
 
 25 
 
 alone can the statements to the punchayet about a snake-bite — can 
 the statements at the thanna about a snake-bite, be explained con- 
 sistently with either hypothesis. If innocent, and if his child had not 
 denounced him, why persist in such a preposterous explanation, with 
 a ghastly death-wound staring him in the face and giving him the lie ? 
 If guilty, and if his child^has denounced him, they become explicable. 
 
 •He may have aigued that the police, hearing the neighbours say that 
 it was a case of snake-bite, might not have taken the trouble to inquire. 
 When the police did come, and an inquiry became inevitable, "did he 
 do what lay in his power to further the inquiry and to bring -the 
 murderer to justice ? [The evidence of the head-constable was here 
 laid before the Jury.] This man, on his own evidence, appears to be 
 unfit for his duty. On his own showing, he made no sort of inquiry 
 into the crime which the evidence of his own senses must have shown 
 him had been committed. He examined no one but the father, the 
 present accused, and left the village on the 29th March, the day 
 he arrived, without attempting to make any proper investigation. His 
 explanation is that he was only holding an inquest, and was awaiting 
 
 . the native doctor's report before beginning an inquiry. This conduct, 
 however absurd, does not affect the main question before you, one 
 way or the other. It only goes to show that the prisoner did not press 
 an inquiry upon him, and did not produce his daughter, Golak, on 
 the 29th March. That, as far as it goes, if you believe the witness's 
 statements, tends to support the theory for the prosecution, and to 
 corroborate the imjjortant statement of the girl that she was sent away 
 t» the neighbouring field on the 29th March. That statement, if you 
 believe it, is a strong inculpatory circumstance, for Golak was the only 
 
 ' person who was in- the house when the murder was committed,-and, 
 on the hypothesis of the prisoner's innocence, should have been pro- 
 duced before the police officer, who had come to the village to make 
 an inquiry. ^ , , 
 
 That, geitlemen, concludes the case for the prosecution. It is 
 only on th* mother's evidence that I gan find a single circumstance 
 of iiyportanre that appears to throw doubt on the story as told by the 
 
 \
 
 26 
 
 prosecution— that circumstance is her omission to denounce her 
 husband to tlie head-constable on the 29th March. This is her 
 explanation of the omission. [Read.] It is for you to weigh that cir- 
 cumstance and the explanation given. It may be that she was on 
 that day unwilling to denounce her husband, or uncertain as to the 
 course she ought to pursue. It may be that che was unwilling to cut 
 away her means of support. It may be that she was ov;ercome with ' 
 the fear of her husband, and doubtful of the result of a direct accusa- 
 tion coming from her. She may have felt that she would be unable 
 to substantiate that accusation. She says, " I had not seen the act 
 myself," and she may reascinably have felt that the girl's evidence 
 might be insufficient to bring her husband to justice. Her failure 
 would have exposed her to his revenge and lasting enmity. All these 
 considerations may have been operating in her mind, and have pre- 
 vented her taking it upon herself to make a formal charge on her own 
 responsibility. 
 
 It is for you to weigh these matters, and to attach what weight 
 you think fit to the circumstance that the prisoner has not rebutted 
 the case made by the prosecution in any way, should you think that 
 the case is established on the evidence. He has called three neigh- 
 bours to prove, as he says, that the villagers talked about snake-bite 
 as the cause of death before he went to the thanna, and agreed that 
 that was the cause of death. The witnesses called certainly do not 
 prove or bear out that allegation. Even if they did, it is difficult to 
 see how it would tend to prove the innocence of the accused, except 
 on the hypothesis that he is devoid of natural intelligence. Snake^ 
 when they bite, do not make holes in a human being's body, and the 
 wourvd on his child's person must have been a fact patent to his senses. 
 With these observations, I shall leave this case to you. If the evi- 
 dence for the prosecution does not satisfy you of the prisoner's guilt, 
 if you have reasonjible doubts pf the truth of the child's evidence and 
 the sufficiency of the corroboration, you should acquit (.he prisoner. 
 If, on the other hand, you find no room for reasonable dou?Dt, if your 
 minds are convinced by the whole evidence that the prisoner com- 
 
 /
 
 27 
 
 mitted the act which caused death, you will not be doing your duty 
 as citizens if you shrink from convicting the accused of murder. 
 
 (Sd.) P. DICKENS, 
 
 . Sessiofis jfudge. 
 
 VERDICT AND SENTENCE. ' 
 
 The Jury are unanimous in finding the prisoner guilty of the 
 offence specified in the charge, viz., that he committed murder, an 
 offence punishable under Sec. 302 of the Indian Penal Code, and'the 
 Court directs that, subject to confirmation ^y the High Court, Muluk 
 Chand Chaukidar be hanged by the neck till he is dead. 
 > 
 
 [When the Judge passed sentence of death on the prisoner, and 
 informed him that if he wished to appeal to the High Court, he must 
 do so within seven days, he said that bis last prayer was that he might 
 be hanged in his own village, where there were persons who would 
 ^fcel that he was being unjustly hanged for a crime which he had 
 never committed.] 
 
 
 \
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PRISONER'S APPEAL 
 
 TO -THE HIGH COURT OF CALCUTTA, JUNE, 1882. 
 {Before\ihe^Honble. Mr. fustice Wilson and the Honble, 
 Mr. Justice Macpherson.) 
 
 Capital Sentence Case, 
 
 The Empress v. Muluk Chand, Chaukidar. 
 
 Mr. Manomohan Ghose, w'ho appeared for the prisoner, saidj — . 
 This case, my Lords, has been referred by the Sessions Judge of 
 Nuddea, for confirmation of the sentence of death passed by him 
 upon the prisoner, and it also comes before your Lordships on an 
 appeal preferred by the condemned man, oA whose behalf I appear. 
 It is a case of unusual difficulty, whether looked at from the point of 
 view of the prosecution or from that of the defence. The prisoner 
 has been found guilty by the unanimous verdict of a Jury, consisting 
 of his own countrymen, of the atrocious crime of murdering his own 
 chile?, a girl of 9 years, of whom, according to the evidence, he was • 
 very fond, and the motive ascribed by the prosecution for this crime, 
 which renders it even more inhuman, is that the prisoner intended to 
 fix the guilt of t^e crime uppn an enemy of his, Kadam Ali Fakir, 
 with whom he had been on bad terms. Ordinarily,, >vhere a Jury 
 have unanimously found a prisoner guilty, it becomes ^.xceedingly 
 difficult to induce this Court to interfere with the conviction ; and 
 
 /
 
 29 
 
 although, in capital cases, the law allows this Court to examine the 
 evidence and disturb the verdict of a Jury even on questions of fact, 
 yet in the present instance the prisoner's appeal would, at first sight, 
 seem to be desperately hopeless, by reason of the witnesses in the 
 Court below not having been at all cross-examined, with the exception 
 of one solitary question -to one witness put by the prisoner himself, 
 •who was undefended. Besides this apparently>almost insurmountable 
 difficulty, the prisoner stands condemned on the evidence of an eye- 
 witness who is no other than his own child, corroborated by the 
 evidence of his own wife. Nevertheless, the case presents rtlany 
 features of so startling a character, that I'venture to think your Lord- 
 ships will hesitate to confirm the sentence of death passed by the 
 Lower Court, even if you are unable to declare the prisoner absolutely 
 innocent, on a perusal of the record now before you. 
 
 In trials by Jury, a prisoner under sentence of death appealing to 
 this Court is in a much better position than any other who has 
 received a lighter sentence ; for in the latter case no appeal lies 
 except on a point of law, while in capital cases the Legislature has 
 
 • wisely enabled this Court to examine for itself the evidence adduced 
 before the Jury, and to form its own opinion upon the value of that 
 evidence. The first jwint arising on the evidence in the case, whicii 
 
 .. 1 shall submit for your Lordships' consideration, is the total absence 
 of motive for so inhuman a crime. It is true, as the Judge in the 
 Court below remarks, that the prosecution is not bound to prove any 
 motive as a matter of law, but in considering the value of the 
 evidence and the probabilities of the case, regard must be had to the 
 aderjuacy of the motive suggested for the crime. And what is the 
 
 • motive suggested here by the prosecution ? To bring a false charge 
 • of murder against an enemy. Although crimes of that kind are not 
 
 altogether unknown in Bengal, yet the Courts will require very .strong 
 evidence before coming to the conclusion that a pian has killed his 
 own child foj the purpose of having his revenge upon an enemy by 
 accusing bim falsely of murder. In this case, hajjpily, the prisoner's 
 own conduct entirely negatives any such theory. 
 
 ] 
 
 \
 
 [lJ^i/son,y. — Whom did the prisoner accuse?] 
 
 He never accused anyone, and never even said that his child had 
 been killed. His statement to the police from the beginning has 
 been — " I don't know how my child died ; my neighbours imagine 
 she died of snake-bite". But the prosecution suggests that the 
 prisoner must have changed his mind shorlly after the murder, and 
 therefore never ventured to charge Kadam AH Fakir. It is difficult 
 to understand why he should have changed his mind if he had killed 
 his daughter for the sole purpose of accusing the Fakir. As regards 
 the prisoner's motive, then, the suggestion of the prosecution is 
 wholly unwarrantable. The Judge, in his charge to the Jury, has 
 throughout assumed that the case must be one of deliberate murder, 
 and, has on that hypothesis asked them to adopt one of two 
 alternatives presented to them, viz., either the prisoner murdered the 
 child, or some enemy of his committed the crime. This was a very 
 serious mistake ; for the case clearly admits of another hypothesis, 
 which never suggested itself to anyone in the Court below, but 
 which has made a very great impression on my mind since I first 
 read the evidence, and which it will be my duty to ask your Lord- 
 ships to adopt in this case. The Judge's charge to the Jury is an 
 elaborate, a laboured, and, I may be permitted to add, a very able 
 effort at persuading them to come to one conclusion, and one con- • 
 elusion on/y in the case. He has given the Jury no chance of avoid- 
 ing the conclusion at which he had himself arrived, viz., that the 
 prisoner committed the murder. Such a charge must have necessar'ly 
 prejudiced the prisoner^ and it would entitle me to ask yoyr Lorci- 
 ships to interfere on the ground of misdirection, even if it were not 
 opeft to your Lordships to review the evidence in the case. 
 
 [ Wilson, J. — But there is the direct evidence of the prisoner's 
 own child, who was not cross-examined. How are we to disregard 
 that evidence ?] * . >•' . , 
 
 In dealing with the evidence of the child, your L(S>rdships must 
 have regard, in such a case ^as this, to probabilities, anc^-remember 
 that the prisoner, an ignorant peasant, would be absolutely incompe- 
 
 / 
 
 /
 
 tent to cross-examine any witness himself. No douht priMo, fade the 
 evidence of a child is regarded as more reliable than that of an adult ; 
 but in this country it is notorious that advantage is frequently taken 
 by the police and others of the precocity of Indian children, who 
 • are easily tutored to give false evidence which the most skilful cross- 
 examination sometimes -fails to expose. In this case,* when your 
 -Lordships consider the improbability of the story told by the child, 
 and the other evidence in the case, I feel*confident you will come to 
 the conclusion that no reliance ought to be placed on her testimony. 
 To my mind, the very fact that the child is giving her evidence against 
 her father, and the wife against her husband/^is almost itself sufficient to 
 indicate that they are witnesses who have been put up for the occa- 
 sion to tell a particular story, and that there is some mystery at, the 
 bottom of the case which the evidence does not disclose. 
 
 [The whole of the evidence was then read and commented 
 upon.] 
 
 Mr. Ghose then proceeded : — It is of the utmost importance in 
 
 cases of this description to notice when and how the accusation was 
 
 .originally made. If the child Golak ha'd actually seen her father kill 
 
 her sister, it is utterly inconceivable that, when the head-constable 
 
 went to the prisoner's house on the 29th, the prisoner was not 
 
 _ denounced as the murderer by anyone. This is perhaps the most 
 
 important part of the case. How was it that neither the neighbours 
 
 nor the prisoner's wife accused the prisoner on the 29th March? 
 
 The head-constable swears that the prisoner's wife was questioned 
 
 by him, but she said nothing. She, however, falsely denies having 
 
 been asked at all by him. This is a contradiction upon a very 
 
 •important point. If the wife wished to screen her husband then, \/hal 
 
 . was it that led her to accuse liim subsequently ? The fact is beyond 
 
 all doubt that the prisoner was never accused before the police until 
 
 after the result of the post-mortem examipation was kj;iown. And this 
 
 is a clear indication that the police put pressure upon the child and 
 
 t'he wife, aij^ made them tell the present story after the doctor had 
 
 declared that it was not a case of snake-bite. I would submit with 
 
 \ 
 
 \
 
 32 
 
 confidence that in this country this circumstance alone renders the 
 evidence absolutely worthless, although the witnesses have not been 
 cross-examined. It is notorious that the police in this country wait 
 for the result of the post-mortem examination; and then proceed to 
 manufacture evidence so that it may fit in with the medical evidence. 
 The story told by the child clearly shows th?it this is exactly what was 
 done on the present occasion. 
 
 [ Wilson, J. — But how«do you account for the death of the child ? 
 It was not a case of snake-bite.] 
 
 ■ It is not absolutely necessary that the prisoner should be able to 
 account satisfactorily for fhe death of the child, if he had nothing to 
 do with it. But in the present case I can put forward a theory which 
 suggested itself to me the moment I read the papers of the case, and 
 which furnishes, in my judgment, the real clue to this mystery. Any- 
 one who has any experience of criminal trials in Bengal knows that 
 in the vast majority of cases, probably in more than 90 per cent, 
 neither the prosecution nor th^ defenc e disc lose s the whole truth. 
 There is always, unfortunately, a desperate attempt on both sides to» 
 conceal the facts as much as' possible, and our Courts have therefore 
 the very difficult task imposed upon them of finding out, as best they 
 can, the truth out of an immense mass of false and perjured testi- 
 mony. Bearing this in mind, also remembering that ignorant 
 persons in this country when accused of crimes will not tell the truth, 
 and will set up a false defence even though they are absolutely 
 innocent of any crime, I have little hesitation in saying that, qfter 
 V the most anxious consideration of the whole evidence, I have cofiie 
 to the conclusion that this was a case of accidental death. 
 
 <\_Wilson, J. — The medical evidence shows that death was caused 
 by the wound in the abdomen which penetrated the liver,] 
 
 I shall ask your Lordships to reject the medical evidence on that 
 point I cannot conceive of any such wound having been inflicted 
 during life, and yet not a drop of blood coming out of it. The 
 child's clothes and bedding had no blood on them. ^ 
 
 [ Wilson, J. — How do you say the accident was caused ?] 
 
 /
 
 33 
 
 In the absence of any information, I can only speculate. Is it 
 altogether unlikely that the prisoner, who was sleeping on the Hoot 
 of his verandah with his daughters, had occasion to get up during the 
 darkness of the night, and happened to tread on the throat or chest 
 of the deceased ? I do not say that this is a satisfactory explanation, 
 but it is a possible one.- » 
 
 [ ]Vilson, y.-^But supposing such an accident had killed the 
 child, how do you account for the wound ?] 
 
 My Lords, the wound presents no difficulty whatever to me, and 
 it is because I am able to account satisfactorily for the wound 'that 
 I ask your Lordships to hold that the dd^th of the child must have 
 been due to some accident. Appearing for the prisoner, it is no 
 doubt a very dangerous suggestion for me to make, but knowing the 
 character and the ideas of these ignorant people in Bengal, I venture 
 ^ / to, assert that this wound was made after death. 
 ^ [ Wilson, J. — Who made it, and why ?] 
 
 It was probably made by the prisoner himself to account for the 
 • death of the child ; in other words, to fabricate a snake-bite. 
 
 [^Macp/ierson, J. — But surely snakes do not make such ugly 
 holes.] 
 
 I do not for a moment suggest that the wound was made by a 
 Ci_ J sftake. But my theory is that it was made for the purpose of giving 
 /»^/ i t the ap} )carance of a snake-bite. 
 
 \Macpherson,J. — Every peasant in Bengal knows what a snake- 
 bite is like. No one would mistake such a terrible wound for a 
 SQake-bite.l 
 
 My Lords, fortunately for my theory, I have got the very best 
 
 -evidence in su[)port of' it. Whether a genuine snake-bite would 
 
 - have such an appearance or not, it is needless for us to inquire, when 
 
 tha fact is admitted that the prisoner himself attempted to pass it off 
 
 as a snake-bite. He at any rate thoiight it migl^ be taken for a 
 
 snake-bite. And that is enough for my present purpose. 
 
 That tie wound was inflicted aftej death is perfectly clear from 
 the appearance of it and from the entire absence of blood ; and that 
 
 • • 3 
 
 \
 
 34 
 
 it was not made by any murderer is also clear from the superficial 
 character of it. Why should any murderer inflict such a gentle 
 wound with a spear, instead of thrusting it deeper? But if it was 
 intended to fabricate, a snake-bite, the superficial character of the 
 wound is easily accounted for. 
 
 Mr. Ghose then read the Judge's charge and commented upon it, 
 and concluded his address by remarking that if, by reason of the 
 enormity of the crime alleged, and the absence of all cross-examina- 
 tion of the witnesses, the Court, after anxiously considering the evi- 
 dence, could not see its way to acquitting the prisoner altogether, it 
 might adopt another couvse, which the law allowed and which the 
 Judge's summing up entitled the prisoner to ask for, viz., a new trial 
 of tbe case before a fresh Jury. 
 
 No one appeared for the Crown in support of the conviction. 
 
 The learned Judges, after a few days' deliberation, delivered the 
 following judgment : — 
 
 We are unable to confirm the conviction and sentence in this 
 case, because the case was presented to the Jury by the learned • 
 Judge in a manner which seems to us open to grave objection. 
 
 The charge was one of murder by a father of his child ; the only 
 eye-witness of any part of the transaction was a child : there were 
 many peculiarities about the case upon any view of it. The prisoner, 
 was undefended, and with the exception of one question to one 
 witness, the witnesses were not cross-examined. In such a case the 
 learned Judge would have done wisely to lay the case before jthe 
 Jury with extreme caytion, and to take great care that the ]wy 
 should not give undue weight to the evidence for the prosecution, or 
 overtook or underrate its defects or incongruities. But the effect of 
 the summing up of the learned Judge seems to us to have been to ■ 
 press unduly many points in the case against the prisoner, and to 
 minimise the force of the objections to that case. 
 
 Almost at the beginning of the summing up the \sarned Judge 
 deals with the question of nvotive for the alleged crime. <-He says — 
 
 t 
 
 "The adequacy of motive is no doubt a matter. for your consideijation, 
 
 /
 
 35 
 
 but it is not a point which the prosecution is legally, or as a matter 
 of law, bound to prove ". This direction is perfectly correct. And 
 if the learned Judge had stopped with that, his treatment of the 
 subject of motive would have been open to no, exception. But he in 
 several parts of his summing up pressed upon the acceptance of the 
 Jury a theory of motive which appears to us not supported by the 
 
 'evidence, and almost purely speculative. • 
 
 In dealing with the question of probability, the learned Judge 
 points out the improbability of the crime on the one hand, and of a 
 false charge under the circumstances on the other. And he says — 
 " Whichever hypothesis you adopt, a sl^ock is given to ordinary 
 experience and ordinary probability, and yet it is absolutely certain 
 that one must be true ". It is true that the learned Judge is careful 
 to tell the Jury that they are to decide not on probabilities but on the 
 evidence. But as far as probability is to weigh with these, it is left 
 to them in the way we have pointed out. And the same mode of 
 presenting the case is adoj^ted in other parts of the summing up. 
 Thus it is said — " If the child was not killed by the prisoner, the 
 
 • murder must have been committed by an outsider and an enemy ". 
 And the learned Judge goes on to point out the difficulties in the 
 way of a conclusion that an outsider murdered the girl. Later on, 
 - , speaking of the spear with which the Judge presumes the girl to have 
 been murdered, he says — " Which theory best accords with ordinary 
 experience and reasonable probability — the child's story that the 
 murderer used his own spear, or the theory that an outsider used the 
 prisoner's spear?" This is an extremely danjjerous way of presenting 
 a case to a Jury. When two alternative views are put before a Jury, 
 
 'one or other of which it is suggested must be true, the Jury arencry 
 ' likely to accept that alternative which seems more consistent with 
 the probability and with the evidence. This is wrong for two 
 reasons : — ist, J3ecause it hardly eve^ happens tiaat a Judge can 
 §afely assilmf/ that the alternatives he puts to the Jury necessarily 
 exhaust IhC probabilities of the case ; rwidly, Because it may be right 
 that the Jury, by reason of the obscurity of the case, should refuse to 
 
 \
 
 36 
 
 adopt confidently any theory at all, and should on this ground acquit 
 the prisoner. 
 
 In the early part of his summing up, the Judge says very correctly 
 that the prosecution had to prove first " that the crime of murder 
 was committed, and to establish in your minds a reasonable belief 
 amounting fo a moral certainty that the prisoner committed that 
 crime ". But in treating the case in detail, he throughout assumes 
 that a murder was committed, and addresses himself to the question 
 of " Who committed that?" This involves an assumption not only 
 that the girl died from criminal violence, but that the circumstances 
 were such that the crimi; amounted to murder. And this is an 
 assumption which we think the Judge was not authorised in 
 making. 
 
 Throughout the summing up, the circumstances adverse to 
 the prisoner are pressed as strongly as possible, while those 
 favourable to him seem to us not to have had due weight given 
 to them. 
 
 The fact that no charge was made against the prisoner for several 
 days after the occurrence is a very important fact. The learned' 
 Judge refers to it as the " single circumstance of importance that 
 appears to throw doubt on the story as told by the prosecution ". 
 He then refers to the wife's explanation, but does not point out that 
 that explanation is contradicted by the police officer. And he then 
 goes on to offer several speculative explanations of her conduct which 
 she herself never suggested. This great diversity in the mod^ of 
 treating the facts on the one side, and those on the other, seems ^o 
 us calculated seriously to prejudice the accused. 
 
 One material point of the evidence seems not to have been' 
 seriously considered at all. The learned Judge throughout his 
 summing up assumes that death was caused by suffocation and a 
 spear wound. The attentioft of the Jury was not called to the grave 
 doubts arising on the evidence as to what was the real cause of death, 
 and whether the spear-wound- was inflicted before or aftel death, nor 
 to the bearing of this question upon the whole case. 
 
 /
 
 37 
 
 For these reasons we are unable to confirm the conviction and 
 sentence. On the other hand, we do not think we should be justified 
 in allowing the appeal and acquitting the prisoner. The safer course 
 seems to us to be that the prisoner be tried ag^in. 
 
 13th June, 1882. 
 
 (Sd.) A. Wilson. 
 
 { ,,) W. Macpherson, 
 
 \
 
 • CHAPTER III. 
 
 APPLICATION 
 
 FOR 
 
 THE TRANSFER OF THE CASE. 
 
 t 
 
 On the 7th July, 1882, Mr, Manomohan Ghose applied before Mr. 
 
 Justice Maclean and Mr. Justice Macpherson, in the Calcutta High 
 Court, for a rule calling upon Mr. Dickens, Sessions Judge of Nuddea, 
 to show cause why the precept issued by him regarding the selection 
 of certain Jurors named by him to sit on the trial of Muluk Chand 
 Chaukidar should not be quashed, and why the case should not be ■ 
 transferred from the Court of Mr. Dickens to that of another Judge. 
 The application was supported by the following affidavit : — 
 
 Affidavit of Bahoo Prasanna Kumar Mittra, 
 
 1. That I am a pleader of the Judge's Court of Nuddea, and 
 
 have obtained a vakalutnama* from one Muluk Chand Sirdar 
 
 Chaukidar, at present a prisoner awaiting his trial on a charge of 
 
 < < 
 
 murder, empowering me and other pleaders to defend the said 
 
 prisoner. 
 
 2. That the said prisoner, Muluk Chand Chaukidar was, in 
 May last, convicted by the Sessions Court of Nuddea of the offence 
 of murder, and sentenced to death by the presiding Judge, P. 
 Dickens, Esq, 
 
 3. That on the prisoner's appeal, and on the rase being 
 
 * A power in writing authorising a pleader to appeal^ on behalf of his clif nt 
 
 /
 
 39 
 
 referred by the Sessions Judge of Nuddea for confirmation of the 
 sentence, a Division Bench of this Court, consisting of Mr. Justice 
 Wilson and Mr. Justice Macpherson, set aside,*on or about the 13th 
 June, 1882, the sentence passed on the said prisoner, and directed 
 his re-trial. 
 
 4. That within three or four days after the said order of re-trial 
 - reached Mr. P&rcival Dickens, Sessions Judge of Nuddea, I learnt 
 
 from certain pleaders and other persons that Mr. Dickens had stated 
 in open Court, within the hearing of my said informants, that he 
 would select as Jurors Mr. Savi, Molla Khodadad, and others, who, 
 in the Judge's opinion, were well qualified, to try the case of the said 
 prisoner. 
 
 5. That at or about the same time, I also learnt that the Judge 
 had stated to some of his ministerial officers, that, besides Mr. Savi 
 and Molla Khodadad aforesaid, he would select Baboo Gopal 
 Chunder Shaw, Mritunjoy Roy, and Baboo Haranath Mitter, to sit 
 as Jurors to try the said case. 
 
 6. That on learning, as aforesaid, that the Sessions Judge in- 
 • tended to .select Jurors according to his' own idea of their qualifications 
 
 to try the said case, and believing that such a proceeding would be 
 illegal and might materially prejudice the prisoner, I felt it my duly 
 , to re|)resent the matter to counsel in Calcutta, and, according to 
 counsel's advice. Baboo Tarapada Banerjee, a pleader of the Judge's 
 Court of Nuddea, and I, jointly presented, on the 20th June last, a 
 petition to Mr. Dickens, Judge of Nuddea, an authenticated copy of 
 fthich petition is annexed to this affidavit, and marked A : — 
 
 The humble pefitioh of Muluk Chand Chaukidar, a prisoner in 
 the Nuddea Jail — 
 
 Humbly sheweth, — That your petitioner has been informed that 
 on recci])t of the order of the High Court directing that your peti- 
 tioner should be re-tried, your Honour stated in o^jcn Court that you 
 , would si/mr^ion a special Jury for the trial of your petitioner, and that 
 your H-^our would summon for Jhat purpose Mr. Savi, Molla 
 Khodadad, and others. 
 
 \
 
 40 
 
 Your petitioner begs respectfully to submit that there is no 
 provision of law which authorises the summoning of a special Jury in 
 the mofussil (country), nor is your Honour empowered by law to 
 select any particular Juror or Jurors for the trial of any particular case 
 at the Sessions. ♦ 
 
 Your petitioner therefore humbly prays that, on reconsidering . 
 the matter, rour Honour will be pleased to direct that under the 
 provisions of Section 407, Criminal Procedure Code, 'the Jurors to be ■ 
 summoned be chosen by lot in open Court out of the Jury list, and 
 that at ^east fifteen or twenty persons may be so chosen for the pur- 
 pose of being summoned to attend on the day of your petitioner's 
 trial. 
 
 Your petitioner further prays that, considering the length of time 
 he has been in hajut (prison), an early day may be fixed for his 
 trial, and that, therefore, a special Sessions may be held for the 
 purpose, if necessary, with the approval of the High Court. 
 
 And your petitioner, as in duty bound, shall ever pray. 
 
 7. That on the said 20th of June, I accompanied the said 
 Baboo Tarapada Banerjee to the Judge's Court, when he presented 
 the petition referred to in the preceding paragraph. He, Baboo 
 Tarapada Banerjee, first stated to the Judge that he wished to apply • 
 for an early date being fixed for the trial of the prisoner, Muluk 
 Chand Chaukidar, whereupon the Judge, Mr. Dickens, remarked 
 that he could not conveniently try the case earlier than the 17th 
 July. Baboo Tarapada Banerjee then said that his petition 
 contained another prayer, namely, that the Jurors to be summoned 
 might be selected by lot according to Section 407 of the Criminal 
 Procedure Code. Mr. Dickens thereupon said — " I cannot have a 
 number of pleaders to sit on the Jury," or words to this effect. 
 BabcvD Tarapada Banerjee then observed — " We do not want only ■ 
 pleaders to sit on the Jury, but we simply pray that the Jurors may 
 be chosen by lot ". Mr. Dickens then said — " Why does not Mr. 
 Ghose get the case transferred to Jessore or some other district ? " 
 Baboo Tarapada Banerjee replied — "Jessore is not a Jur;' district. 
 All that we want is that the Jurors should be chosen accprding to 
 law." Mr. Dickens then said — "I have already formed my opinion
 
 41 
 
 about the case. It would be difificult for me to change it, unless some 
 strong evidence turns up in favour of the accused. It is very easy 
 for a couple of Judges of the High Court, sitting with the record 
 before them, to say what they like. ... I have already held that 
 two and two make four, and they cannot make me say that two 
 and two make five," (Jr words to this effect. He tken asked — 
 "" What possible objection can there be to an English-knowing Jury ? 
 The Judge's charge loses half its force when translated into broken 
 Bengalee. If the prisoner's chance of escape lies in an ignorant 
 Jury, I am sorry for him," or words to this effect. Baboo Tarapada 
 Banerjee observed — " The prisoner does not pray that an ignorant 
 Jury should be selected. All that he asks for is that no special Jury- 
 men be selected." Baboo Tarapada then read the first paragraj^ of 
 the said petition which he held in his hand, and prayed for an order 
 on the petition. Mr. Dickens, without questioning the correctness 
 of the allegation contained in the first paragraph of the said petition, 
 said — " The petition is in English ; hand it over to me. I will 
 consider the matter and pass orders afterwards.'' Baboo Tarapada 
 Banerjee thereupon handed the petition to Mr. Dickens, who put it 
 inside his box, saying — " If I am to be harassed by such petitions, 
 and if my discretion as regards the selection of Jurors is to be fettered, 
 I will write to the Higb^ Court to transfer the case from my file," or 
 words to this effect. 
 
 8. On the next day, that is, the 21st June, 1882, Mr. Dickens 
 pajrsod an order on the back of the said petition, an authenticated 
 cfjpy fj which order is also annexed -to tliis affidavit, and 
 marked H : — . 
 
 " With reference to the matters urged in this petition, *t is 
 sufficient to say that the first Monday in the ensuing Sessions has 
 been fixed for the commencement of the trial, and that the usual 
 steps will be talien for securing the presence of a rtumbcr of compe- 
 ient Jurors, t 
 
 « " r. DlCKKNS. 
 
 '"2/s//une, /SS2."
 
 42 
 
 9- I declare that, so far as I or Baboo Tarapada Banerjee have 
 been able to ascertain, after careful and diligent inquiries in the 
 Judge s office at Knshnaghur, Mr. Dickens has not chosen any 
 Jurors by lot in opeti Court, for the purpose of their being sum- 
 moned to attend on the date fixed for the trial of the said 
 prisoner. ' 
 
 10. I have further ascertained that, on the 4lh of July instant, the 
 Judge issued a precept to the Magistrate of Nuddea, directing him 
 to summon for the trial of the said prisoner the under-mentioned 
 Jurors.: — 
 
 Mr. Savi, Molla Khodadad, Gopal Chunder Shaw, Umanath 
 Ghosal, Mritunjoy Roy, Nakuleswar Bannerjee, Khirode Chunder 
 Roy, Jodoo Nath Chatterjee, Bisweswar Chuckerbutty, Bipin Behari 
 Mozoomdar, and Mati Lai Pal Chowdry. 
 
 11. That, to the best of my information and belief, the Jurors 
 named above, or any of them, were not chosen by lot in open 
 Court, and that in addition to four out of the five persons whom the 
 Judge had originally selected, as stated in paragraphs 4 and 5 of this 
 affidavit, he has chosen seven persons for the purpose of being, 
 summoned to attend on the 17th of July. 
 
 Paragraphs 12 and 13 are unimportant. 
 
 14. I further say that it is well known at Krishnaghur that Mr.^ 
 Savi, one of the Jurors summoned, is a personal friend of Mr. 
 Dickens, the Judge of Nuddea, and I verily believe that neither he 
 nor Molla Khodadad, the two gentlemen named in the petition 
 marked A, and now ordered to be summoned, will try the case 
 fairly and impartially, and that neither of them ought to be selected 
 as Jurors after what has transpired. 
 
 15. That I verily believe that, having regard to the strongly- 
 expressed opinion of Mr. Dickens, the prisoner, Muluk Chand 
 Chaukidar, will not have a fa'r and impartial trial before Mr. Dickens, 
 the Judge, and that he will be materially prejudiced if thd Jurors are 
 selected according to the di'^cretion of the Judge, instead of their 
 being chosen by lot according to law.
 
 43 
 
 1 6. I further say that I have shown this affidavit to the said 
 Baboo Tarapada Banerjee, who has assured me that his recollection 
 of what transpired on the 20th June, as described above, exactly 
 tallies with what is stated in this affidavit. 
 
 Solemnly affirmed by me, 
 
 * (Sd.) Prasanna Kumar Miitra. 
 
 Mr. Ghose said that, having failed to avoid the necessity for 
 bringing the matter before their Lordships, he now felt compelled to 
 make this application, as that course was the only alternative left 
 him. This matter had arisen out of the case tried by one of their 
 Lordships, sitting in appeal with Mr. Justice Wilson, which resulted 
 in the setting aside, on the 13th June last, of the sentence passed by 
 Mr. Dickens upon the petitioner, and in an order for his re-trial. 
 
 In regard to the first of these prayers, the counsel explained that 
 the Jury had been chosen, not by lot as prescribed by law, but 
 selected by the Judge according to his own ideas of their compe- 
 tency. In the selection of Jurors, that bfficer maintained he had been 
 guided by a desire that the fate of the accused should be placed in 
 competent hands; but Mr. Ghose contended that, under Section 407 
 of the Criminal Procedure Code, in such a case, the Judge had no 
 discretion. The Jury, under that section, should be summoned by 
 lot, and in all his experience Mr. Ghose had found that Judges 
 invariably followed that law strictly; indeed, this was the first time he 
 \nd seen it disregarded. Nor could Mr. Dickens justify his depar- 
 ture from the law by urging, as he might, that this was not the first 
 •time he had so acted in regard to the formation of a Jury. .The 
 objection to this course, in addition to its being utterly illegal, was of 
 a very serious character. It was not to be supposed that a Judge, in 
 a case^of this kind, would intentionally «;hoose the Jjjrors from among 
 persons v/io would sit to try the accused with a foregone conclusion 
 of his gu'^ ; but it was necessary thq^t they should not be made to 
 feel, J^y the compliment of a special selection, that they were c}ualified 
 
 /
 
 44 
 
 above others to sit upon the Jury. This implied compliment would 
 have the effect, however imperceptibly, of warping their judgment, 
 and influencing the verdict they would have to return. And this was 
 a case in which that argument applied with more than ordinary force, 
 from the fact that the Judge had expressed a very strong opinion 
 against ihe -prisoner, and sentenced him to death. The Judge's 
 charge, on the last occassion, this Court had thought was open to grave 
 objection ; and if, in the new trial, the Jury were empanelled under a 
 plan of favoured selection, such a course would be an avowed 
 tribute to their intelligence, which would he sure to affect their 
 judgment. But Mr. Ghose based his contention upon a higher 
 ground. He submitted that Mr. Dickens' action was illegal, as being 
 opposed to the terms of the section he had quoted ; * and he would, 
 therefore, ask their Lordships to set aside the precept issued by the 
 the Judge. The prisoner had been placed in a difficult position, as 
 no Juryman could be challenged without good and sufficient cause 
 being shown to the Judge, whose decision upon the point was under 
 the law final. Speaking from his own experience of criminal trials, 
 Mr. Ghose could say that, generally, the Judges were anxious to have 
 a body of Jurors to whom neither side objected. When, however, 
 these are chosen by lot, the accused would, of course, have to take 
 his chance. , 
 
 Mr. Ghose submitted that it was difficult to conceive a stronger 
 case for transfer than the present one. He said this with regret, as, 
 originally, it was his own suggestion that the case should be returred 
 
 * S. 407 of Act X. of 1872 (the Criminal Procedure Code in force at the time) 
 enacted : — " The Court of Session shall ordinarily, Vhree days at the least before 
 the time fixed for the holding of the Sessions, send a precept to a Magistrate 
 directing him to summon as many persons named in the said revised list as seem 
 to the Court to be needed ior trials by Jury and trials with the aid of Assessors at 
 the said Sessions, the number to be summoned not being less than double the 
 number required for'any case abou,. to be tried at such Sessions, 
 
 "The names of the persons to be summoned shall be drawn b}\ lot in open 
 Court, excluding those on the revised list who have served within six months, un- 
 less the number cannot be made ujj without them ; the names so drawn shal) be 
 specified in the precept to the Magistrate." ,
 
 45 
 
 to Nuddea for re-trial there. But at that time he had no idea how 
 things would shape themselves, while Mr. Dickens himself was will- 
 ing to be relieved from the task of trying the case a second time. 
 Mr. Ghose was aware of the difficulties in the way of such a transfer, 
 having regard to the prisoner's circumstances, and the fact that it 
 would be harassing to the witnesses in the case if it were transferred 
 to another district. He would, therefore, suggest to their Lordships 
 a course which might be adopted to obviate these difficulties, viz., to 
 request the Government of Bengal to depute some other Judge to 
 Nuddea in order to try the case, which he expected would occupy not 
 more than two days. This was the course adopted in the well-known 
 Purneah case of Abdul Kadir, reported in XX. Weekly ReporteVy 
 p. 23, and was one to which the Crown could not object. As. the 
 matter was urgent, and the trial was fixed for the 17th instant, he 
 suggested that such explanations as their Lordships thought fit to call 
 upon Mr. Dickens to make, might be made returnable as early as 
 possible. 
 
 Mr. Justice Maclean, — But Prasanna Kumar Mittra does not 
 pretend to have heard anything himself, beyond what occurred in his 
 own presence on the 20th, when he presented the petition. 
 
 Mr. Ghose. — The truth of the rest is confirmed by the Judge's 
 order on the petition presented to him on that day. That petition 
 was drawn up in English, so that he should not have the excuse for 
 saying he could not understand the vernacular. It set out that, as 
 eady as the 20th, wc objected to two of the five Jurors nominated, 
 alad wl^en that petition was read out to hiqi, Mr. Dickens did not 
 dispute or challenge the conectness of our statement that he had 
 staled in open Court the names of the Jurors he intended to select. 
 
 Mr. Justice Maclean. — That may be accounted for by his refusing 
 to answer in open Court an accusation against himself. 
 
 Mr. Ghose. T-But if the petition contained so se'ious a charge, the 
 learned J /dj'^ should have at once repudiated it, or done so in the 
 orjler he passed subsequently. In it 'le draws a distinction between 
 Juro.-s and "competent " Jurors.
 
 46 
 
 Their Lordships granted Mr. Ghose's application, promising to 
 issue the order in the course of the day, the terms of which, they 
 said, would have to be carefully considered. 
 
 The rule came onv for hearing on the 12th July, 1882, when no 
 one appeared on behalf of the Crown or Mr. Dickens, to show cause. 
 The learned Judges, after reading the written explanation submitted 
 by Mr. Dickens, delivered the following judgment, transferring the 
 case from Nuddea to Alipur in the suburbs of Calcutta : — 
 
 Maclean, J. — The prisoner's petition contains two prayers. The 
 first is, that the precept for the summoning of the Jury for the trial of 
 his case be quashed, on the ground that the Jurors named had not 
 been chosen by lot out of the entire Jury list according to Section 407 
 of the Criminal Procedure Code. The second prayer is, " that inas- 
 much as it would be extremely inconvenient and harassing to your 
 petitioner, and all the witnesses, if his case were transferred to another 
 district, and inasmuch as by such transfer he would be deprived of 
 the advantage of being defended by some of the local pleaders of 
 Krishnaghur, who have kindly consented to defend him at the trial, 
 this Court will be pleased to request the Government of Bengal to 
 depute any Judge other than Mr. Dickens for the purpose of trying 
 your petitioner's case in Nuddea on the 17th of July, or on any sub- 
 sequent date ". ( . 
 
 With reference to the first prayer, we have received a letter from 
 the District Judge, in which he says that the precept was, as a matter 
 of fact, issued under Section 410 of the Code, not 407 ; and he rlso 
 justifies his procedure^ in summoning Jurors duly qualified on tfie 
 ground that the practice has prevailed in hjs district for many years 
 in critical cases without being questioned. He also points out that 
 the prisoner in this ca,se was tried on a previous occasion by a Jury 
 summoned in precisely the same way in which it has now been 
 objected to. ». , ^ 
 
 "\^'ith reference to the precept having been issued ;jnCj3r Section 
 410, that section provides for t\ie summoning of Jurors at otlier peripds 
 than the period specified in Section 407, w,hep the number of trials 
 
 \
 
 47 
 
 before the Court renders the attendance of more than one set of 
 Jurors necessary. In this case, we understand that the ordinary 
 Sessions of the Nuddea district commences on the 14th of this month. 
 It therefore does not appear to us that there was any necessity for 
 making use of Section 410 ; and if there had been, we are also of 
 opinion that, although that section provides for the summoning of 
 Jurors at times other than at Sessions, it does not say that the Jury 
 is to be so summoned in any other than the method prescribed in 
 Section 407. 
 
 As to the practice which is stated to have prevailed in the district 
 of Nuddea for so many years, all we have to say is, that we recognise 
 no practice except that which the law lays down. The law provides 
 that, ordinarily, Jurors shall be drawn by lot in open Court; and 
 although Section 408 provides for the summoning of special Jurors, 
 that section only applies where the accused persons are entitled to be 
 tried by a Jury constituted under Section 234 — that is, a Jury de 
 tnedieta/e lingttcs, as it is called in other countries. If it were necessary, 
 therefore, that the trial should proceed in the Nuddea Sessions Court, 
 » we should have thought it necessary to direct a fresh precept to be 
 issued in the manner prescribed in Section 407. The prisoner has, 
 however, requested to be tried at Nuddea by another Judge, but we 
 tliink it inexpedient to apply to the local Government to depute any 
 special Judge to try the case. The Judges of neighbouring districts 
 have their own duties to perform, and we do not think that we could 
 inconvenience the public service by asking that a special ofticcr be 
 deputed for the purpose of trying this case, Wc therefore propose 
 to direct the trial of the case at the Alipur Sessions, which will com- 
 mence on the 17th of this month; and we shall issue orders tq the 
 Judge of the district of Nuddea to transfer the case to the file of the 
 Judge of Alipur, in order that the requisite steps may be taken to 
 bring the case on during the ensuing Sessions. The Judge of 
 Nuddea h is stated that he has formed such an extremely decided 
 opinion ac /erse to the prisoner, and has expressed it before the trial, 
 
 I * 
 
 that no trial before him, held on the same evidence, would be satis-
 
 48 
 
 factory either to himself or the accused. On these grounds we have 
 less hesitation than we otherwise would have had in transferring the 
 case. 
 
 Macpherson^ J,, \Yho concurred generally with Maclean, J., said 
 that Section 410 should be read alona; with Section 407, and there was 
 nothing in the law to authorise the course which the Judge of Nuddea 
 had taken. As Mr. 'Dickens favoured the transfer of the case, he 
 concurred with Maclean, J., in transferring it to the Alipur Judge's 
 Court. 
 
 Mr. Ghose asked their Lordships to direct the production of the 
 police papers and the attendance of the medical witnesses from 
 Nuddea, but was told to make his application to the Sessions Judge 
 at ^lipur, who would, their Lordships had no doubt, pass the 
 necessary orders.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RECORD OF THE SECOND TRIAL. 
 
 ALIPUR SESSIONS COURT.— 21ST Julv, 1882. 
 
 {Before A. C. Brett, Esq., Additional Sessions fudge.) 
 
 The Empress v. Muluk Chand Chaukidar. 
 
 The charge against the prisoner was that he, on the night of 
 Monday, the 27th March, 1882, at Bhulat, in the Bongong sub- 
 division, in Nuddea, intentionally caused the death of his daughter, 
 Nekjan, aged about 9 years, by stabbing her with a spear, and 
 thereby committed murder, an offence punishable under Section 302 
 of the Penal Code. 
 
 The prisoner pleaded " Not Guilty " to the charge. 
 
 The Government Pleader, Baboo Bipradas Banerjee, in opening 
 the case, stated that the prisoner had once been convicted at Nuddea, 
 but* the High Court had thought fit to set aside the conviction and 
 direct tlTe re-lrial of the prisoner in this Cofirt. The case for the 
 prosecution was that the"^)risoner had, on the afternoon of Monday, 
 the 27th of March, sent away his wife from home for the purpose, it 
 was said, of fetching some money from his 'brother, who lived in 
 another village, and during his wife's absence from home, some time 
 after YnidfiightJ killed one of his two daughters who were sleeping 
 'with him\jn t'le verandah of his house. It would be proved that the 
 prisoner put his foot on the throat of the deceased child, Nekjan, 
 
 4 

 
 50 ] 
 
 • 
 and then stabbed her with a spear. In the morning he called his 
 
 neighbours and pretended that he did not know how the child had 
 
 died, and set up snake-bite as the probable cause of death. He went ; 
 
 to the thanna on the s^fternoon of Tuesday, and reported the death | 
 
 of his daughter as having been caused by snake-bite. The principal i 
 
 witness of tlfe crime would be the prisoner's own daughter, who was j 
 
 sleeping with him that night, and who saw her father kill the deceased. •' 
 
 This child told her mother the next morning, as soon as she returned i 
 
 home, and also told her aunt and another woman what she had seen, ' 
 
 early on the Tuesday. These witnesses belonged, as it were, "to 
 
 the enemy's camp," and they would come forward and prove these i 
 
 facts. It would also be proved that when the police arrived; on 1 
 
 Wednesday morning, to investigate this matter, the prisoner took i 
 
 care to conceal his daughter, Golak, who had seen the murder \ 
 
 committed, in an onion field, in order to prevent the police from i 
 
 examining her. The motive for the crime it would be difficult to 
 
 prove, nor was it necessary to do so ; but the Jury would be able to 
 
 infer from certain facts, which would be proved, that the motive was ! 
 
 probably to accuse one Kadam Ali Fakir, who had instituted criminal • j 
 
 proceedings against the prisoner. The medical evidence showed that j 
 
 the wound in the abdomen was the cause of death, and if the Jury ' 
 
 believed the evidence of the child they would convict the prisoner. • 
 
 On the first witness being called, Mr. Manomohan Ghose, who 
 
 appeared for the prisoner with Mr. Lalmohun Ghose, wished to know 
 
 whether the prosecution intended calling Inspector Bipinbehari C|iat- ; 
 
 terjee, who was the ir^vestigating officer, and who was then presefit l 
 
 in Court, as, in case of his being called as a ^vitness, he ought to leave j 
 
 the \3ourt • i 
 
 I 
 The Government Pleader stated that he did not intend to exa- • 
 
 mine the inspector. 
 
 The following vitnesses were then examined : — 
 
 Witness No. 1. 
 
 Deposition of witness No. i for prosecution, Dw.arka Rai, aged 
 
 \
 
 about 35 years, taken on solemn afifirmation under the provisions of 
 Act X. of 1873, before me, A. C. Brelt, A.S.J, of the 24-Pcri;unnahs, 
 this 21st day of July, 1882 :— 
 
 My name is Dwarka Rai. I am a constable. I know the 
 prisoner. He is .Muluk Chand, chatikidar' (watchman) of Bhulat. 
 About 3 months ago I took the corpse of a little girl, said to be his 
 daughter, and named Nekjan, from his house to Bongong, where I 
 made it over to' the native doctor, who madp ^post-mortem investiga- 
 tion of it in my presence. I brought these two weapons from 
 prisoner's house [points to a spear and a bagi or large sacrificial 
 knife] the day after I brought in the corpse. I found the spear stuck 
 in the mat wall, and the bagi between the wall and the thatch. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — The prisoner came to the thaiina 
 (police station) where I was, about 3 or 4 in the afternoon of a day 
 — I forget what day of the week, to report the death of his daughter. 
 The jemadar (head-constable), Ramdas Sirkar, ordered me to go to 
 the spot ; and I got to Bhulat after sunset that evening. Prisoner 
 had preceded me. It was a stormy night, and I slept in the house of 
 a barber named Modhu, not far from prisoner's house, and saw the 
 body of a female child. On account of the storm I went to the 
 barbers house. I saw no one but prisoner in his house, neither wife 
 nor child, nor anyone ; I did not asit him where his family were. 
 I did not see any relative of prisoner's about. I asked no rjuestions 
 about them, on account of the storm. When I came I had a light 
 lit, and said — "I am going to stay and watch over the body," but wlicn 
 
 'the storm came I coi^jd not remain, and went to the barber's. Once 
 in the night, between 10 and 1 1, 1 went to see that the corpse wns 
 all right j I found prisoner seated by it. A light was burning, but I 
 did not take up the cloth to look at the corpse ; I went away. I told 
 prisoner to be careful of jackals. He was alone. The storm had abated, 
 but I w «nt back to eat. Next morning, early, kam 1 )as, jemadar (head- 
 conslable), came. I u:mained with him during his investigation. 
 
 'He had the corpse out and examined it. Some neighijours^wcrc 
 present, and some relatives of the prisoner, Jamecr, Sajan, Sham 
 Bahara, Uma Charan, were there. I forget whether Umesh Ghazee 
 was there. I know Dhiru; I do not know her husband, Umesh Ghazee, 
 distifictl'i I tlo not know him at all. ' yNote by tnc Judge. — For .some 
 . reason *r other the witness clearly fences with this matter.] I was 
 ncjt pre.ient when the head-constabl« had the prisoner's lloor dug. 
 
 i
 
 1 
 > 'i 
 
 52 
 
 I had gone to call the ryofs to carry the body. This was about 8'30 
 or 9 A.M. I was there about an hour. I forget the names of the men 
 whom I brought to carry the corpse. Can't remember one. I don't 
 know that the prisoner's floor was dug. This is the first time I hear 
 of it. I can't say why, when T was asked if the -head-constable had 
 dug it, I said I was not there. [JVo^e by the Judge — Here again witness 
 is evidently averse to tell the truth.] Even that day I did not see 
 the prisoner's wife or ehild. [The witness is told that the day on 
 which the body was sent in was Wednesday.] On Thursday 
 morning the inspector told me that the case was one of murder, and 
 he told me to go to Bhulat and investigate, and he would follow. 
 The inspector said to me — "I hear from the doctor that death was 
 caused by a spear ; you must search and see if you can find any such 
 weapon ". He also told me to bring prisoner's wife and daughter. I 
 got to Bhulat at 9 a.m. I took the wife and the daughter, Golak, 
 and started for Bongong. I met the inspector about two miles out 
 of Bhulat. Besides prisoner's wife and daughter, I had with me 
 Jameer, Sajan, Uma Charan, and Sham Bahara. I had been told 
 by the inspector to bring respectable ijots (villagers), and therefore 
 had these men with me. I started from Bhulat about i or 2 p.m. 
 When I met the inspector I turned back with him. I cannot 
 recollect whether I was present when the inspector recorded deposi-. 
 lions. ^^Note by the Judge. — Witness fences again.] Before the arrival 
 of the inspector I never asked prisoner's wife or daughter what they 
 knew. When I left for Bhulat, on Thursday morning, I left prisoner 
 at Bongong, also the men who carried the corpse. It was not 
 Thursday that I met the inspector. It was on the Friday. On the 
 Thursday night I remained with the prisoner's daughter, wife, and the 
 others, at Bongong. What really happened was this : I met the 
 inspector on the road with prisoner's wife and child with me, and he 
 took them on to Bongong and sent me back for respectable ryots. 
 No, this is really what happened : I met th^'inspector on the road on 
 the Thursday, with the wife, child, &c., and we all went back to 
 Bhulat. I forget whe^re I stopped that night, or where the inspector 
 stopped. I cannot say when the prisoner's wife and child got to 
 Bongong. I forget whether I accompanied them to Bongong. I 
 forget where they were on Friday. I forget where 1 was that day. 
 The inspector came out to investigate on Thursday, biii I innot say 
 what he did, as he sent me*" off for the ryots. I forget whom I
 
 53 
 
 brought. I forget what the inspector did after I brought the ryols. 
 I can't say if they were brought. I can't say whether the inspector 
 was in the village on Friday. I was present when the Magistrate in- 
 vestigated the case. There was only one spear exhibited in the case. 
 No, there were two j I only brought one. 
 
 Re-examined. — T-here is only one house in prisoner's premises. 
 There are two verandahs. The corpse was in the north verandah. 
 I have known the female witness, Dhiru, -since the case. Tiic 
 inspector said to me — " The doctor says it is murder. You go 
 and search for a spear, and if there is a wife of the prisoner, as you 
 say there is, ask her what she knows about it ; also a child, and bring 
 them to me."' I forget where I saw prisoner again after I left him at 
 Bongong. I forget how long after I was sent back to Bhulat the 
 inspector came there. I cannot say whether it was that day or next 
 day. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 
 Witness No. 2. 
 
 Deposition of witness No. 2 for prosecution, Adh.\r Ch.andr.x 
 Ch.MvRavarti, taken on solemn affirmation under the provisions of 
 Act X. of 1873, before me, A. C. Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of the 24-Por- 
 gunnahs, this 21st day of July, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is .Xdhar Chandra Chakravarti. I am the native doctor 
 of Hongong. On the 2yth March last I examined the body of a 
 female child, aged aboyt 10, brought to me by Dwarka Rai, constable. 
 The body was emaciated and liver enlarged. I)ecomj)osition had set 
 in on the head only. 'I'hc tongue slightly protruded, the teeth jjressing 
 the tongue lightly. The brain was congested slightly. I did not 
 examine the condition of the throat. I made no detailed examination 
 as lo whether suffocation was the cause of death. I found a i)unctured 
 incised wound over the- ei)igastric region \ inch dec]), and i inch 
 by \ inch superficially. The wtnind appeared to have been inflltled 
 by a weajton perpendicularly to the body. It had ])enelrated } inch 
 into the liver. The wound was exactly in the centre of the body. I 
 saw the spear when I gave my evidence before the Magistrate, It 
 then bor(> no iVace, to my eye, of its ?iaving l)een lately sharpened. 
 The spe.'h* I s;e before me might have cau.sed the wound. The cause 
 of death was this wound. I found blo-d cxlravasatcd in the i^eritoneal 
 cavity of the abdomen, obout three ounces. Both ventricles of the
 
 54 
 
 heart were empty. The body had some clothing on, but there was 
 no blood on the clothing. There was no coagulated blood on the 
 edges of the wound : no blood at all. The blood which I have said 
 was in the peritoneal cavity was liquid, but I was unable to ascertain 
 whether it was coagulated or not. I examined it carefully, but could 
 find no coagulation. When the body was brought to me, a report 
 was attached to it to the effect that death was supposed to have 
 arisen from snake-bite. I found no trace of death by snake-poisoning. 
 I told the police that the cause of death was the wound in the stomach, 
 and gave it as my opinion that the child had been murdered. The 
 constable, Dwarka, was present during ihe post-tnoriem, and I said to 
 him at the time, " This is murder ". I also wrote a report to this effect. 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — I have been in medical service 
 for eight years. My pay is Rs. 55 a month. I had to study medical 
 jurisprudence. When the corpse came, the first thing I did was to 
 look at the body. I felt sure that the wound in the belly, whatever 
 produced it, was the cause of death. With that idea I made the post- 
 moriem. I minutely examined the windpipe and lungs, but not the 
 tissues of the throat. I formed no suspicion that suffocation or 
 strangulation caused death. I saw no exterior marks on the throat. 
 
 *&'■ 
 
 I made a minute examination of all the internal organs. There was 
 no sign of any blood having flowed out of the wound. I have known 
 cases in which, after an incised punctured wound inflicted during 
 life, no blood has come out of the wound. Such wounds have caused 
 death. 
 
 [ Note by the Judge. — The witness gives instances, but they do not 
 bear out his statement. One is of a case in which some wounds bled, 
 but some did not; and the other is a case in which the wounds bled 
 only slightly.] 
 
 It is a main test in medical jurisprudence as to whether a wound 
 has been inflicted during life or not, whether there is coagulation. 
 But \t. is not sine qua no7i. I should say the child had suflered from 
 malarious fever. Enlargement of the liver produces pressure on the 
 diaphragm, which may cause choking sensation, producing cough, but 
 not suffocation. The wound was not triangular in shai)e. I see fr(jm 
 looking at my repo.t [reads] th^-.t I have entered in column 3 that the 
 wound was triangular in shape, but that is an incorrect entry ,\ and was 
 inserted by me because the police reported it to be trian;_,ular. I 
 filled up that report after I had finished the post-vwrtein. I never
 
 55 
 
 made any subsequent attempt to have the mistake rectified, or to tell 
 anyone I had made it. I examined the body at 4 p.m. The girl 
 might have been dead forty hours, / did 7iot ihhik it necessary to 
 examine the spinal cord. I did not do so. It took me about two 
 hours to make the post-mortem. Dwarka was present all along. The 
 spleen was healthy. It was not congested. The kidneys were slightly 
 congested. There was a mark as of a scratch on the left cheek. As 
 soon as I saw the wound on the abdomen, and saw its shape and size, 
 I felt sure it was not a case of snake-bite. I should say that from 
 such a wound death might take place after from two to ten hours. 
 Death might be instantaneous. [After some deliberation says :] 
 Instantaneous death might follow from a shock to the nervous system. 
 I think it possible that the wound might have been inflicted im- 
 mcdia^tely after death I am on friendly terms with inspector, Bepin 
 Behari Chatterjee. I had no conversation with him about the/:ase, 
 either the day I examined the body or the day after. He did not ask 
 me either on the 29th or 30th with what sort of a weapon the wound 
 might have been inflicted. 
 
 Re-examined. — If blood had flowed from a wound, you could 
 tell that it had done so 40 hours after. 
 
 Q. — Might not decomposition alter the shape of a wound? 
 
 A.— No. 
 
 Q. — Did you point out to the Magistrate that there was a 
 mistake about the triangular wound? 
 
 A. — No, I did not tiiink it was necessary. 
 
 P.y the Court. — VJhen I saw the tongue protruding, I ascribed it 
 to the effect of decomj)Osition. The eyes also were congested. I 
 also ascribed this to decomposition. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brktt. 
 
 Witness No. 3/ 
 
 Deposition of witness No. 3 for prosecution, IC. J. Brandkr, Saken 
 on oath before me, A. C Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of the 24-l'ergunnahs, 
 this 21st day of July, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is E. J. Brander. 1 am civil surgeon of Nuddea. I 
 have rea^ the- report of the native dfitrtor in thistase. I cannot say 
 that hi>: opinion is wrong. Congestion of the lungs — ^ihat of the 
 brain, and that of the eyes, — protru^jon of the tongue would be con- 
 sistent with strangulation or suffocation, but would not necessarily
 
 56 
 
 lead to the inference of either. If a heavy man placed his foot on 
 the neck of a little girl till she died, the above symptoms would 
 probably be observed. Supposing a man acted in this way, and after 
 pressing the girl's neck/or some time speared her, I should be sur- 
 prised to find no hemorrhage externally. If the spear-wound were 
 inflicted after ^partial suffocation had supervened, ihere would be more 
 bleeding internally than externally, but there would Ijiave been some 
 externally. I cannot conceive any wound causing a solution of 
 continuity from the skin inwards taking place during lifetime, with- 
 out producing some bleeding externally. On the hypothesis put 
 before me, and if no artery had been cut, it is possible the external 
 bleeding may have been slight. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — I received the report on the ist 
 April, two days after it was written. In that report it is not mentioned 
 that there were no marks of external bleeding. After reading all the 
 details of the native doctor's report, I do not think the materials are 
 sufficient for us to predicate that the wound was inflicted during life 
 or after death. A wound in the abdomen might be made to gape by 
 the pressure of the gases generated during decomposition. After 
 forty hours, in March, I should expect to find such gases. Coagu- 
 lation is a main test as to whet,her a wound was inflicted during life, 
 but decomposition tends to liquify coagulated blood. Excluding the 
 shape of the wound, there is nothing in the symptoms detailed in the 
 report inconsistent with death from snake-bite. Protrusion of the 
 tongue and eyes would be produced by decomposition. It would be 
 very difficult, twenty-four hours after death, to" say whether the eyes 
 were congested or not. 
 
 Q. — Supposing the child had been bitten by a snake on the 
 abdomen, had died, and that some one very soon after death had 
 enlarged the wound, is there anything in the symptoms inconsistent 
 with this ? 
 
 4. -No. ' 
 
 Re-examination. — No questions. 
 
 By Court, — I said i)efore the Sessions Judge of Nuddea — "The 
 ventricles of the heart are reported empty. Bleeding, therefore, must 
 have supervened. <^'It may have been internal." By Jhis I die], not 
 mean to exclude the question of external bleeding to a visihif extent. 
 I was not asked about external bleeding, and my mind was directed 
 to the fact that the dangerous bleeding would probably be internal.
 
 57 
 
 I do not think the native doctor was justified in saying that the case 
 was not one of snake-bite, because he did not notice that the body 
 had turned black, or that the nails were shrivelled. 
 
 (S'd.) A. C. Brett. 
 The Court here adjourned till the next day. 
 
 SECOND DAY'S PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 Witness No. 4. 
 
 The deposition of witness No. 4 for prosecution, Golak Mani, 
 aged about 6-7 years, taken before me, A. C. Brett, Esq., .A-.SJ. of 
 24-Pergunnahs, this 22nd day of July, 1882. 
 
 {Note by the Judge. — The child says to tell a lie is a "/^/ " (sin). 
 She does not know what a "/<?/" means; but she is intelligent.] My 
 name is (iolak Mani. I know the prisoner. He is my father. His 
 name is Muluk Chand. I had a sister named Nekjan, a little older 
 than myself. My mother left home in the afternoon, taking a 
 younger sister and an infant brother (jf mine. My father, Nekjan, 
 and I went to sleep on a mat in the verandah facing the cow-path. 
 In the night I was awakened by my sister kicking me. She was 
 kicking her feet about when I awoke, and my father had his foot on 
 her throat, and then :;tuck a .spear into her. I said to him — " Why 
 arc you beating her?" He said — "Lay the blame on the Fakir 
 Kadam All ". My father had an intrigue with this man's wife, Sarba. 
 My sister kicked her legs about, but could not speak. It was a moon- 
 l'j;ht night. The moon was setting. It was near dawn. My sister 
 could not move, and I concluded she wa.s' dead. After this my 
 father went out. I reniained with my sister's body. About dawn 
 my n(ini Haru Bebee, the mother of Amrita, came. I told her 
 my father had killed my sister. Dhiru called me to go and eat, and 
 I went to her. She called to me from near a date-tree in the cow- 
 path. I told her what my father had done. >Vhen the day was 
 welTon, Mny mother came home. I told her what my father had 
 done. \ was at Sham Mehtar's house when ni) mother relumed. I 
 had gone to bathe. I mean I was- at home when my mother re- 
 tur;ied.
 
 58 
 
 Q. — Do you know when the police came? 
 
 A. — I was in the (;nion field. I am in the habit of looking after 
 the onions, and I went there of my own accord. I did not see my 
 sister's body taken away, 
 
 Q. — When did you return from the onion field ? 
 
 A. — About noon, after the corpse had been t^Aken away. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — The barra ^arogah (chief 
 inspector of police) taught me the word '■'■pup". He said — '■'■ Miiya 
 bolile pap hai ; satya bola bhaia"* He told me this at Bongong. He 
 said to me — '^ Pap hoik ki hoyV -^ At Nuddea I was told by my 
 mother that my father had been sentenced to be hanged. On that 
 day my mother made an offering at the foot of a sacred tree near the 
 court, and gave me some of the sweetmeats which she offered. I 
 have remained with my mother ever since the case. We have not 
 been'\o visit my father in the jail. When I opened my eyes and saw 
 my father killing my sister, I did not sit up. I watched him keeping 
 lying down. \Notc by the Jiidge. — The child is made to show the 
 exact position she kept, and lies down with one hand very slightly 
 raising her head.] I talked to my father in this position. I was still 
 in this position when my father went out. I did not go to sleep, 
 but remained lying down. I,, did not get up to pass water either 
 before or after the deed. I did not want to. I remember giving 
 evidence before the Magistrate at Bongong. I there said that 
 I had awoke because I wished to pass water, but it was a mis- 
 take of memory {inone cheela na X)- I did tell the Magistrate 
 that I was awoke by my sister kicking me. I Saw my father take the 
 spear from the roof. It was kept in a place where you could reach to 
 it with the hand from the bed. The mother of my mother is alive. 
 She is called Koti in the village ; and her house is on the other a'de 
 of the road from ours. , \Noie by the Judge. — The child evinces 'U 
 curious reluctance to answer whether her mothers mother is alive, and 
 says at first that she must ask her mother.] I did not call her when, 
 I saw my sister killed. I did not cry out at all when I saw my sister 
 killed. I wept a little. I did not tell my grandmother, Koti, what 
 I had seen. I never told her. Haru Bebee is my darham nani 
 (called grandnioth(5f, but not plated). I never told ^inyone in my 
 village what I had seen except Haru, Dhiru, and my mother. I have 
 
 r 
 * " Sin is incurred if one tells a lie." + •' What happens if sin is incurred Y" 
 
 X " iJid not remember." ( i
 
 59 
 
 playmates in the village. I never told them anything of what had 
 happened. After my father returned, having gone out after the deed, 
 he found me seated by my sister on the bed, awake. He did not call 
 out to me — " Golak ! get up ". He began to cry. He called out 
 loudly — " Oh, my neighbours, how is it my Nekjan is dead !" Dhiru 
 is the wife of Umesh-Ghazee, and is sister of my mother. The first 
 person to come, on my father's calling out, was Haru Bibi. 
 
 Q. — What men came ? 
 
 A. — Jameer, Sajan, and Sham Mehtar. They are not related to 
 us. My uncle, Umesh Ghazee, came, looked at the corpse, an'd went 
 away. \Note by the Judge. — The child seems very reluctantto say 
 that this man came.] Umesh and my nani, Koti, live in the same 
 premises. I did not tell him what had happened. I did not tell any- 
 one th-at my father had told me to lay the blame on the Fakir. My 
 mother has never asked me why my father killed Nekjan. [Ram 
 Dass, head-constable, is called in.] This darogah ordered the floor 
 of our house to be dug \x\), and my uncle, Umesh Ghazee, dug it up 
 with a kodali (spade). My mother was there. I was there. The 
 floor was dug in order to look for the snake which was supposed to 
 have bitten my sister. Everyone sujjposed this. I did not say any- 
 thing of what I had seen. The daro^^ah did not ask my mother how 
 'Nekjan had died. [Dwarka Rai, constable, is called in.] This con- 
 stable took me and my mother into Bongong. Wc got there at night. 
 I saw the inspector there. [Identifies Inspector Bipin Behari, who 
 is called in.] I was taken to him yesterday evening after I had been 
 in attendance at this "Court. I and my mother were taken. The 
 inspector told me to tell him what I knew, and I related to him what 
 I have said here. I don't know what my mother said to him. Wc 
 we-se taken in one by one. Yesterday week my mother and I were 
 seated under a tree near Bongong, and Kadant Ali Fakir was with us, 
 giving us water. Kadam Ali has come in with us here. He is out- 
 side the court. 
 
 ' 1^ Re-examined. — I call Koti my tiaui. She was at home when 
 my sister was killed. She did not con:e. Her fool was swollen. 
 ^Notc by the Judge. — This explanati(in is given with much hesitation, 
 and after several unintelligible sentences on thctpart of the child.] 
 'I'he corjjse was in the yard (t/tan) when the floor was dug up. 
 
 m 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Breit.
 
 6o 
 
 Witness No. 5. 
 
 Deposition of witness No. 5 for prosecution, Barahti, aged about 
 33 years, taken on solemn affirmation under the provisions of Act X. 
 of 1873, before me, A.'C Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of the 24-Pergunnahs, 
 this 22nd day of July, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Barahti. I am the wife of the prisoner at the bar. I 
 had a daughter Nekjan. ^ She was aged about 8 or 10. I went to 
 Goga to get money, by direction of my husband, on account of a 
 case he had with Kadam Ali Fakir. He told me to go to his brother. 
 His brother said he had none. I went in the afternoon, and 
 returned home next morning about 8 or 9. When I came to my 
 house, I found my daughter, Golak, seated on a mat in the verandah, 
 silently weeping, and by her, on tlie same mat, was the corpse of my 
 daugliter, Nekjan. My husband was not there. The corpse was 
 covered with the child's clothes, but these were not worn ; the body 
 was naked. I saw no blood, but I .saw a wound in the abdomen. 
 [Indicates on her own person the locality.] My husband came in 
 some time after. When I came and saw my child dead and the other 
 child by the body, I said to Golak — " How is it your sister is dead ? '* 
 She said her father had killed her sister. She said he had placed his 
 foot on her throat and then speared her. When my husband came in 
 I said to him — " I left my children with you. You sent me off to 
 Goga for money ; now tell me who killed my child." I further said 
 to him — " I have no quarrel with anyone ; you have a quarrel with 
 the Fakeers ". He said — "I don't know who killed her ; I was not at 
 home". He further said — "What has been done has been done; 
 now let us try to save ourselves ". This spear and this bagi (sword) 
 now before me are my husband's. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Clhose. — My husband was fond of Nekjan. 
 I did not find my husband crying when I returned. I did-not see 
 him cry at all. I did not say to the Judge at Nuddea — " I heard 
 cries'; my child Golak was crying, and my husband was also crying". 
 He never cried [emphatically]. I did not tell the Judge of Nuddea 
 that " I first had a conversation with my husband, and that I then 
 asked Golak how her sister had been killed ". What I say now is 
 true. I spoke to Golak first.' When I saw my husbandjj said to 
 him — " Golak says you killed Nekjan ". He denied it. I dic^ not ask 
 Golak why her father had killed Nekjan. She did not tell me. I 
 saw my mother, Koti, about noon that day, and I said to her — " I
 
 6\ 
 
 left two children alive, and find one dead ". She said — " Well, you 
 will not get the child alive again ; probably the author of its being 
 has killed it ". When I came home I saw the child dead, and I had 
 no idea before I saw the corpse that anything had happened. I 
 found Golak alone by the body. No villager, neighl)our, or relation 
 was there. I did not tell anyone in the village what Golak had told 
 me. I told my mother only. Ram Dass, head-constable, came to 
 our house the next day. He asked me nothing. I told him nothing. 
 This is he. [Identifies Ram Dass, who is called in.] j\Iy husl>and 
 told me -to go in when this constable came. [^Note by ^/le Judge} — This 
 she says of her own accord.] I went into another hut of ours. Umesh 
 Ghazee dug the floor of our verandah by order of Ram Dass. I saw 
 from some distance. I heard my husband tell the police that Nekjan 
 had probably died from snake-bite. It was on a Tuesday I returned. 
 On the next Thursday was the first time I told the police my husband 
 had killed Nekjan. I did so to Dwarka, constable, in my house, in 
 the presence of the pujic/iayet, Uma Charan. Dwarka took me and 
 G(jlak to Bongong. He accompanied us on the road. He also took 
 Jameer, Sajan, and Uma Charan. Dwarka asked me in my village 
 how my daughter had died, and I then told him her father had killed 
 her. We got to Bongong in the evening. Dwarka was with us. He 
 
 , took us to the inspector (burra da?ogah) at his house. I had 
 never seen the inspector before. Dwarka kept us at the ihaiina 
 (police station) that night. Next morning (Friday) my statement 
 was recorded, and Golak's statement was recorded. 
 
 Q. — As you werc^ being taken off, after your statement was re- 
 corded, did you see your husband in custody ? and did you call out 
 to him — " Is it tru6 that you have confessed to ihc police that you 
 killed your daughter?" 
 
 'a. — Yes ; I said so. \Note by the Judge. — The witness afterwards 
 retracts'-ihis, but in a very unsatisfactory maimer.] I did not say any 
 such thing to my husbatyj, nor did I hear from him that this was false. 
 
 "The police did not tell me that my husband had made a confession. 
 After my husband was sentenced to death, I did not go to see him. 
 Some one about the court asked me if I would appeal. I was told 
 that an appeal would not save my husband's life. I therefore took 
 no steps ;o ai;i)eal. The people in the Court tolcl me that an appeal 
 
 . would C'^st nothing. I made no offering to a saint after my husband 
 wa5 convicted. I was not taken to *Jie inspector's house last night.
 
 62 
 
 My daughter, Golak, was not taken. She remained with me. If my 
 daughter has said that she and I were taken yesterday, one 1»y one, | 
 to the inspector, it is because she is a child. If she has said that 1 1 
 made an offering, I cannot explain it. Last Friday week I did not 
 sit under a tree with' Kadam Ali Fakir. He is now staying in the 
 same house with me at Alipore. 
 
 Re-exaniined. — I cannot say why he has come in. His wife has 
 come in. ■ . 
 
 . By Court. — I was very angry with my husband when I found he 
 had kl'lled my child. I said I would never give him food again, and 
 he said he would never take food from me again. AVhen I saw the 
 police come, and saw that my husband was trying to make them believe 
 that my child had died of snake-bite, I did not come forward and tell 
 the true story, because I was not called {^^ Atiidr ddk hoe fiai"). 
 Th(^ wound on the body was long, not triangular. It was wide 
 enough open to admit a finger. I told the Magistrate at Bongong 
 that I suspected my husband had killed Nekjan, in order to bring a 
 charge against Kadam Ali Fakir. My daughter Golak had told me 
 that when she asked her father why he struck Nekjan, he had said — 
 " The blame will be round the neck of Kadam Ali". I told this both 
 to the Magistrate and to the Judge of Nuddea. 
 
 \_Note by t/ie Judge. — No indication of any such statement is to be 
 found either in the record of the committing officer or in that of the 
 Judge of Nuddea.] 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Breit. 
 
 Witness No. 6. 
 
 Deposition of witness No. 6 for prosecution, Haru, aged about 
 40 years, taken on solemn affirmation under the provisions of Acc X. 
 of 1873, before me. A, C. Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of the 24-Pe^unnahs, 
 this 22nd day of July, 1882 : — 
 
 CMy name is Haru Bibi. I am the widow of Fatik Sardar. I 
 remember when Nekjan died. I know the prisoner. He is Muluk 
 Chand. His house is so far from mine. [Indicates, say, 150 yards.] 
 I heard the voice of a child from prisoner's house, early in the 
 morning, saying— ^•' Who has killed my sister?" She.. was crying and 
 saying this. She did not raise her voice higher than this. [Indicates 
 a decidedly low pitch.] She \yas not crying so as to attract help. I 
 was in my own house. I went to prisoner's house. I found the
 
 63 
 
 corpse of Nekjan lying on a mat in the verandah, and her sister, 
 Golak, was sitting by it crying. Golak said to me — " IMy father has 
 killed Nekjan by thrusting a s[)ear into her, and has thrown the spear 
 into the kachu jungle ". She also said he had placed his foot on 
 Nekjan's neck. The prisoner was then seated close to Golak, and 
 when she said this, he got up and lifted his hand at her in a 
 threatening manner, but did not strike her. I saw no nound on the 
 corpse. I did not tell the Judge of Nudd,ea or the Magistrate of 
 Bongong that I had seen a wound. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — There is no man in my house. 
 I am not on friendly terms with prisoner or his family. Th^y have 
 not set up any dharm relationship with me. I did not tell any- 
 one what the child had said to me. When prisoner threatened to 
 strike Golak, he did not say anything. He did not say — " I will put 
 my foot on your throat". ^Note by the Judge. — That appears from 
 the Judge's record.] 
 
 Prisoner was frying. 
 
 Re-e.xamined. — I became a widow before Nekjan died. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 Witness No. 7. 
 
 Tiie deposition of witness No. 7 for prosecution, Duiru, aged 
 about 40 years, taken on solemn afifirmation under the provisions of 
 •Act X. of 1873, before me, A. C. Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of the 24-Per- 
 gunnahs, this 22nd d.fy of July, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Dhiru I'ibi. My home is at Mouzah Bhulat. I am 
 the wife of Umesh Ghazee. I'.arati is my full sister. The prisoner 
 at <he bar is her husband. My house is about so far from theirs. 
 [Indicates, say, 300 yards.] About 8 in the. ^morning I called (lolak 
 to come to me to eat ; she was crying, and told me that her father 
 •had killed Nekjan. Before that I had heard her cry, and had l(ij)ked 
 out, and had seen Nekjan's corpse lying in the verandah. Seeing 
 this I turned back, Golak told me that her father had put his foot 
 on Nekjan's throat. She said nothing about a spear. 
 
 Cross-cxarnined by Mr. Ghose.— .1 do not 'J<now whether my 
 husband went to i)risoncr's house on hearing cries. My husband 
 slept wiUi me that night. My liouse is in the same premises as 
 prfsoner's. It is true — I remember now that my husband went to
 
 64 
 
 prisoner's house before I did. He returned, and then I went. I 
 did not tell anyone what I had heard from Golak. I did not tell 
 my husband. My husband slept with me the following night. The 
 common talk in the village was that Nekjan had died from some 
 unknown cause. The day after the event my husband took a kodali 
 (spade) to prisoner's house to dig up the floor. I don't know why. 
 I did hear from my husband that it was to look for the snake that 
 was supposed to have killed Nekjan. I did not then tell him what 
 Golak had told me. T did hear prisoner crying before I went. 
 \Note by the Judge. — Here the witness very suddenly faints,, and is 
 taken^out ; no one wishes to ask her any further questions.] 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 The Court here adjourned till Monday, the 24th July. 
 
 THIRD DAY'S PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 Witness No. 8. 
 
 The deposition of witness No. 8 for prosecution, Sarba, aged 
 about 28 years, taken on solemn affirmation under the provisions of 
 Act X. of 1873, before me, A. C. Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of the 24-Per- 
 gunnahs, this 24th day of July : — 
 
 My name is Sarba. My home is at Mouzah Bhulat. I know 
 the prisoner. He is Muluk Chand. He tame to me one night 
 when my husband was away, and I was asleep by myself. He put 
 his hand indecently on my body, and I called out. My mother-in- 
 law came and caught him by the cloth, and he snatched away- his 
 clothing from her and ran away. My mother-in law lit a lamp, avid 
 we saw a spear in the verandah where I was sleeping. It was not 
 my husband's, and we inferred that prisoner had left it. My husband 
 laid a complaint against prisoner on account of this. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — I forget how long before I heard 
 of Nekjan's death this occurred. It was less than a month. I did 
 not tell the Magis^-rate that my mother-in-law had snatched the spear 
 from prisoner. I forget if I said so. I have a female cousin named 
 Otiran, who is wife of Meeru. Prisoner and Meeru have had a case, 
 which prisoner won. After prisoner had won this case, my husband
 
 65 
 
 accused him of trespass into our house with intent to outrage my 
 modesty. 
 
 Re-examined. — No questions. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 
 , Witness No. 9. 
 
 The deposition of witness No. 9 for prosecution, Uma Ch.\ran 
 Sircar, aged about 40 years, taken on solenin affirmation under the 
 provisions of Act X. of 1873, before me, A. C. Brett, Esq., A.S.J, of 
 the 24-Pergunnahs, this 24th day of July, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Uma Charan Sircar. My father's name is Bangsidhar. 
 My home is at Mouzah Bhulat, where I am a cultivator. 
 
 I am a village pimchayet. I know the prisoner. He is Muluk 
 Chand, chaukidar of our village. On the morning of a day about 
 the 15th Chait last, Umesh Gazee came to me and said — "Neftjan, 
 the daughter of Muluk Chand, is lying dead ; you are requested to 
 come by Jameer, Sajan, Sham Mehtar, and Muluk Chand himself". 
 I went. I saw the child lying dead in the verandah. A cloth was 
 over her. I asked prisoner how she had died, and he said he could 
 not say. I made him remove thc^cloth, and I saw a wound on it 
 here. [Points to slightly above the abdomen.] 
 
 * Question by Court. — Was this the shape of the wound [triangular 
 mark] ? 
 
 A. — It was [triangular]. 
 
 I asked the prisoner how this wound had been caused, and he 
 
 said he could not tell.* After a little time he said the child had died 
 
 from snake-bite. He did not say that the wound was the mark of 
 
 the bite. He showed me holes in his house, and said the snake 
 
 miglit have come out of one. As I came up to the house I saw a 
 
 sjfear in some kachu * jungle by the cow-p.^th. I saw a /^r/j,'/ sonic 
 
 distance off. It was behind the house of Sharup Ghosh. I told the 
 
 prisoner these weapons were to be left as I saw them, and I told hyii to 
 
 go to the police and report. I asked him why these weapons were 
 
 lying there. He said he could not tell. When I told him to go to 
 
 the police to report, I also told him to go to my house and get an 
 
 /////a (notice) ^from me, which I said. I was goifig home to write; 
 
 but he did not come to me. 
 
 Cross examined by Mr. Ghose. — Ram Das, head-constable, 
 
 • 
 
 • , * Arum Colocasia. 
 
 5
 
 66 
 
 came the next day, and I was taken to him by Dwarka Rai at 
 prisoner's house last of all the witnesses. The corpse had then been 
 placed on a litter. I did not tell Ram Das that I had seen the 
 weapons. I felt some suspicion when I saw the weapons. I 
 suspected that some one had killed Nekjan. I cannot say whether I 
 told the Judge of Nuddea that I suspected the prisoner. It is a long 
 time ago. If I had thought there would be so much fuss, I would 
 have taken a note of what I said. \Note by the Judge. — This remark 
 is made by witness of his own accord when pressed by the counsel. 
 He fefices very much with the questions relating to whether he sus- 
 pected the prisoner.] When I went to Ram Das, head-constable, I did 
 not notice whether the spear and bagi were where I had seen them. 
 In fact, prisoner had said to me, when I said they were to remain in 
 stahi quo — " They are my things; I will take them away when I like ". 
 I fQ'^get whether I ever said this before in any Court. I have been 
 lately made a J>unchayet, and I did not know that it was my duty to 
 report murders ; this is why I did not tell Ram Das what I knew. I 
 was taken by Dwarka Rai to Ram Das, but I had absolutely no con- 
 versation with him. I did notask him why I had been sent for. 
 [Note by the Judge. — After a prolonged silence, whilst the Court is 
 recording witness' previous statement, he says of his own accord :] 
 Afterwards, a little afterwards', Ram Das asked me if I knew how the 
 child had died. I said I did not know. I did not tell him I had 
 any suspicion. When I first went and saw the corpse I asked 
 prisoner where deceased and her sister Golak had slept. Golak was 
 not there. I don't know how I knew that Golak and Nekjan had 
 slept together. I did not see the floor dug up when I was taken 
 to Ram Das. I did not go near enough to see. I saw no blood 
 on the body or clothes. Goga village is a koss off (2 miles') from 
 our village. I hear prisoner's brother lives there. 
 
 No re-examination'. '' 
 
 By Court. — I saw the spear and bagi after leaving prisoner's 
 house. The spear was north of his house, and the bagi was 3 
 rashis (120 yards) west. My house is south of his. When I asked 
 the prisoner how the wound had come, I then had my suspicion 
 aroused, but I ha^ not seen the weapons then. I suspected because 
 I saw a wound. When I got home I did not commence to write an 
 zttila (notice). As prisoner did not come, I wrote none. If I 
 had written^one, I should have'said in it—" I have seen the corpse of
 
 67 
 
 Nekjan ; her father says she died by snake-bite : but as I see a wound, 
 I suspect murder ". I should not have said that I suspected anyone 
 in particular. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 
 » Witness No. 10. 
 
 The deposition of witness No. lo for f)rosecution, Ram Das 
 SiRKAR, taken on solemn afifirmation under the provisions of Act X. 
 of 1873, before me, A. C. Brett, Esq., A.S.J. of the 24-Pergannahs, 
 this 24th day of July, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Ram Das Sirkar. I am a head-constable. On the 
 27th March I was posted at Sarsa Thanna, which is 9 or 10 ten miles 
 from Bhulat. On the 28th March, about 3 p.m., the prisoner Muluk 
 Chan^ came to me and laid an information. This is it. [Identifies 
 and reads a paper, now marked X.] It was written under my super- 
 vision and signed by me. I was then taking charge from the sub- 
 inspector, and I sent Dwarka Rai, constable, with the prisoner to 
 Bhulat ; Dwarka and prisoner went off together. I followed next 
 morning about 7 or 7*30. I found the body of a little girl lying in 
 prisoner's north verandah. She was said to have been named Nek- 
 jan. The tongue was protruding, the eyes half closed, and there was 
 a triangular wound on the abdomen so big [triangular mark]. 
 [Witness draws a triangle of this size.] I sent the corpse in l)y 
 Dwarka Rai, constable. I remained at Bhulat to take my meals, 
 And I left at 4 p.m. ^io blood was on the body or the clothes. 
 
 Cross-examined by Mr. Ghose. — When I arrived at Bhulat a 
 number of respectable persons were assembled by the body. This 
 man [identifies last witness] was present. He is Uma Charan, 
 pnnihayet. I made prisoner stretch the triangular wound, and I 
 then car'ifuUy looked into it, and saw that K had no depth. It 
 looked only skin-deep. *I asked the by-standers what they thought 
 \fas the cause of death, and they all said tliat they thought it musl be 
 • snakebite. I asked Uma Chapan, and he said the same. Prisoner's 
 wife was there. I asked what she knew. She said — " I was not 
 there. I cannot say how the child died." L held a surathal 
 (inquest) aJ)out»9'30, and then sent the 'body in. 
 , By Court. — This is the report I wrote of the sura-thal. 
 [Identifie* and rtads a paper marked G by the Judge of Nuddea.] 
 
 Tjiere was ^Ih at the mouth, and the stomach was distended.
 
 68 
 
 The body was not stinking. The names of Uma Charan and Nek- 
 jan's mother are appended to exhibit C. If Nekjan's mother, Barati, 
 has said that she did not see me or speak to me at that time, she has 
 told a lie. I was prepared to accept the fact that the child had died 
 from snake-bite, but I was not quite sure. The .villagers and I thought 
 that the wound might be a snake-bite. By my. order a man, who I 
 have been told is Umesh Ghazee, dug up the floor. [Refers to the 
 police diary containing' an entry to that effect.] He came across 
 some holes, apparently snake-holes, and followed them up without 
 finding any snake. As far as I remember, Dwarka Rai was present 
 when "xhe digging took place. The digging was commenced after 
 Dwarka Rai had brought in the men I wanted. No one told me 
 anything about a l>agt or a spear, I saw no reason to suspect 
 the prisoner. On the morning of the 31st March, a cha?ikidar 
 brought me an order from the inspector to prepare a " first informa- 
 tion," accusing prisoner of having killed his daughter, and the 
 inspector stated in the order that he was himself about to investigate. 
 I was at Sarsa when I got this order. I went to Bhulat, expecting to 
 meet the inspector there, but not finding him, I went on to Bongong. 
 ^^'hen I got to Bhulat, I heard that the prisoner's wife and child had 
 been taken in by a constable to Bongong. I did not hear that the 
 inspector had been at Bhulat. On thinking, I remember that in the 
 purwa7ia (order in writing) there was no mention of prisoner 
 having killed his child ; only that the doctor reported the case to be 
 murder. I found Dwarka Rai at Bongong when I got there. He 
 told me that prisoner's daughter said the' prisoner had killed 
 Nekjan. He told me that the child had said this when she was 
 brought before the inspector at Bongong. On the 31st I went with 
 the inspector to Bhulat. As far as I know, this was the first fime 
 the inspector went to Bhulat. AVhen I first went to see the bo(;?y, 
 the prisoner told me that he had slept that night witK his two 
 children, Nekjan and Golak. This was ' in the presence of the 
 villagers. As Golak was a child, I made no inquiries abour her. It 
 was the case for the prosecution at Bongong and Nuddea that Golak ' 
 had been concealed by prisoner in the onion field to prevent my 
 questioning her. e'l do not remember whether the inspector received 
 any order from the district superintendent to ask me' for in explana- 
 tion as to why I had not examined Golak. I don't know whether th6 
 inspector re])orted that the reason was because prisoner had "con-
 
 69 
 
 cealed the child in an onion field. I don't remember whether the 
 inspector questioned me on the matter. I told the Magistrate I did 
 not find Nekjan's sister — I meant to say that I did not look for her. 
 
 No re-examination. , 
 
 By Court. — I heard that the doctor said the wound was deep. I 
 did not tell the Mag«trate or the Judge that I had examined it, and 
 found it not deep. I heard that the doctor said the wound must 
 have been caused by a sharp instrument. I 'did not hear that he said 
 a spear might have caused it. I saw this spear in the Court. It did 
 not str'ike me that this was the weapon said to have been used. I 
 did hear that the case for the prosecution was that the child ha'd been 
 killed with a spear. I did not think how strange it was that a spear 
 could produce a triangular wound. When I told the Judge of Nuddea 
 that tbe edges of the wound were open, I meant that the skin did not 
 meet, but was open. * 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 
 Ex. X. First Information. 
 
 28ih March, 1882, j p.m. — Muluk Chand, chaukidar, aged 40 or 
 41 years, of Bhulat, arrived at the station and deposed as follows : — 
 Yesterday my wife was not at home. ' I was sleeping last night with 
 my daughter Nekjan, aged 8 or 9 years, in the east verandah of my 
 house. At one prahar of the night remaining (3 a.m.), I went to look 
 after my onion field, which is about 20 rashis (Soo yards) to the north 
 bf my house, leaving the said daughter asleep in the verandah. At 
 dawn when I returned home, I found my daughter lying dead in bed, 
 froth coming out of her mouth. On examining her condition, I 
 found on her stomach a slight mark as of a cut or bite ; her colour 
 hatf turned blue ; no other mark or wound was apparent on the body. 
 Tarn not aware of the cause of death ; and i have no suspicion re- 
 garding her death. Tli'^ is my statement. I do not know to read 
 
 br write. ' 
 
 -|- Muluk Chand, 
 Chattkidar of Bhulat. 
 
 Ex. C. *• 
 
 Inquest Report on the Death of Nekjan Chokri. 
 
 ,2gt}r March, 1S82, 7 a.m. — In tlfe presence of Prahlad Ghosh, 
 Sajc-wi Mandal of Bljulat, Jameer Mandal, Atar Ghazee, Amiruddi
 
 70 
 
 Ghazee, Kalu Ghazee, and Uma Charan Sircar, punchayet, and other 
 ryots of the village, and Barati, mother of deceased, and Muluk 
 Chand, the father, I saw the corpse lying in the north verandah of 
 the east facing house, covered with a piece of cloth. I caused the 
 corpse to be brought down to the yard, and after uncovering it I 
 observed as follows : — Age about 8 or 9 years, dark complexion, long 
 hair on her head, stomach swollen, the tip of the tongue between the 
 teeih, froth issuing from" the mouth and nostrils, emaciated in ap- 
 pearance, a triangular mark of a cut or bite below the chest, measur- 
 ing the breadth of one finger ; eyes shut. No other mark or wound 
 on the body. 
 
 (Sd.) Ram Das Sircar, 
 Head-Co7istable, Sarsa Police Station. 
 
 « Examination of the Accused Person. 
 
 The examination of Muluk Chand Chaukidar, aged about 35 
 years, taken before me, Gopal Chandra Mukerji, Deputy-Magistrate, 
 ist class, at Bongong, on the 31st day of March, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Muluk Chand Chaukidar. My father's name is 
 Ashruf Sirdar. I am by caste Mahomedan, and by occupation 
 chaukidar. My home is at Mouza Bhulat. 
 
 Q. — Did you murder your daughter Nekjan ? 
 
 A. — No ; I did not kill her. 
 
 Q. — On what date, and when did she die ? 
 
 A. — Early on Tuesday I went to look after my onion field; no ' 
 one was in the house except the two girls ; my wife had gone to 
 Goga on Monday afternoon. On my return from the field I saw 
 my eldest daughter, Nekjan, lying at a little distance from her bed. 
 I called her, but she did not answer. I felt her body, but she did riot 
 move. A\hen it was darlight, I saw that she had a wound, and was 
 dead, and my daughter, Golak Jan, was asle^n. I began to cry. At 
 four oc six dafidas of the day (8 a.m.), I was going to the ihanna ' 
 when I was arrested by a piada (peon) on the complaint of Kadam 
 Ali Fakir, who had taken out a warrant against me. 
 
 Q. — After that, \yben did you go to the t/ianna ? 
 
 A. — After midday I went to' the thanna and informed the daroga 
 (police inspector). , 
 
 Q. — How far is the thanna from your house ? •- ^ 
 
 A. — Four or four and a half ^^j (8 or 9 miles). ,
 
 71 
 
 Q. — When did you leave your daughters and go to the field ? 
 
 A. — When there was oneprahar of the night remaining (3 a.m.). 
 
 Q. — Why did you send your wife away from your house ? 
 
 A. — To obtain money, with a view to defr^' the expenses of the 
 case that was pending against me. 
 
 Q. — Is this spear yours ? 
 
 A.— Yes. 
 
 Q. — Why does it look as if it had been rulJbed ? 
 
 A. — I cannot say ; I did not rub it. I did not take it with 
 me to the field. I took my latii (stick). 
 
 Q. — When you go to the field or to your watch, do you carfy the 
 spear or the laiti? 
 
 A. — Sometimes I take the spear, sometimes I take the latti 
 (stick). 
 
 Q. — Whom do you suspect having killed your daughter ? » 
 
 A. — I did not see anyone killing her, and my suspicion does not 
 fall on anyone; but I have a quarrel with Kadam Ali Fakir and Mirun. 
 
 Q. — How many s])ears have you got? 
 
 A. — Only this one ; the other one has been falsely produccd'as 
 mine. 
 
 Q. — Had your daughter any ornaments on her person ? 
 • A.— No. 
 
 Examination of the Accused at the Previous Trial. 
 
 » 
 
 Under Section 34 S of the Criminal Procedure Code, by Mr. 
 Dickens, Sessions Judge of Nuddca, dated tlic i6th^May, 1882 : — 
 
 My name is Muluk Chand Chaukidar. My father's name 
 Ashfuf Chaukidar; by caste Mussulman; inhabitant of Goga, Thaiina 
 Sh^rsha, at present residing at I3hulat. 
 
 Q. — Are you guilty of the charge ? 
 
 A. — I am not guilty. ' 
 
 Q.— Did you make this statement before the Deputy-Magistrate, 
 'and is it correct? [Read exhibit D.] 
 
 A. —Yes, I made this statement, and it is correct. 
 
 Q.— Why did you send your wife to Goga, iristyad of going there 
 yourself? ' 
 
 A. — Lest the police should find me absent from the village, and 
 beai me '; through fear of this I did n(5t go. 
 
 Q. — Why did yo'i not go during the day ?
 
 72 
 
 A. — They (my people at Goga) do not stay at home during the 
 day, but go out to the field, &c,, and cannot be found at home during 
 the day, so I did not go during the day. 
 
 Q. — You have said,that you saw, on your return from the field at 
 night, that your daughter was lying at some distance from her bed, 
 and that you called the neighbours at daybreaki Why did you not 
 • light a lamp as soon as you came and saw, and why did you not im- 
 mediately call your neigiibours instead of keeping quiet ? 
 
 A. — I called out for my neighbours as soon as I saw my child on 
 my retiirn from the field. 
 
 Q.-^Did you tell the punchayet of the village and the police at 
 the thaiina that your daughter had died of snake-bite ? 
 
 A. — Yes, I said that my neighbours say that my child has died ot 
 snake-bite. 
 
 Q. — Will you call any witnesses ? 
 
 A.— Yes, I will. 
 
 Q. — What will they say ? 
 
 A. — They will say that they said about the snake-bite. 
 
 P. Dickens, 
 
 Sessions Jtidge. 
 (I 
 
 Memo, of the Statement of the Accused. 
 
 My wife was away. I went to bed with my two little girls, Nek- 
 jan and Golak. Towards the end of the nigh| I went to look after" 
 my onioa'field. • I found some cattle trespassing, and drove them 
 away. I returned and smoked. When I came to my children I 
 found that Nekjan's head had rolled off the pillow and was lying on 
 the ground. I raised her up, and found she was dead. I began to 
 lament loudly. My broiher-in-law, Umesh Gazee, came. Afterwards 
 came Sajan, Jameer, some women, and others. Then Umesh went 
 to call Uma Chtixvin, pufic/iayef. We found a small wound on her' 
 belly, so big. [Shows on a piece of paper.] Uma Charan and others 
 told me I was to go and inform at the thamia. I went towards the 
 thntma, but was arrpsled by a peon on the road who had a warrant 
 for me. He kept me about an' hour, and let me go on "payr»:ent 'of 4 
 annas. I'reached the ihaTina about 3 p.m. The wound was only • 
 skin-deep. When Ram Das, constable, came, he made me 'stretrh 
 out the wound, and it was then clear that it was not deep ; it looked
 
 73 
 
 as if a piece of skin had been pinched out, and everyone said it was 
 snake-bite. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Breit, 
 
 July 24, 1882. 
 
 J 
 
 No witness is called for the defence. 
 
 > 
 
 July 24, 1882. 
 
 Judge. 
 
 (Sd.) A. C. Brett, 
 Judge., 
 
 At the close of the case for the prosecution, the Judge asked the 
 Government Pleader to sum up his case. 
 
 The Government Pleader said he would rather not address the 
 Jury, but would leave the case in the hands of the Court. 
 
 The Judge remarked that he saw no reason why the Government 
 Pleader in this case wished to depart from the usual practice, and 
 that it would be better for him to address the Court. 
 
 The -Government Pleader then summed up the case for the pro- 
 » secution. He saw no reason why th^ evidence of the witnesses for 
 the prosecution, especially that of the prisoner's wife and daughter, 
 should not be believed by the Jury. 
 
 Mr. Manomohan Ghose, in addressing the Jury on behalf of the 
 prisoner, after some prefatory remarks, dwelt on the complete 
 absence of any motive for the crime with which the prisoner was 
 cha/ged. Although, as matter of law, it was not incumbent on 
 tlie prosecution to prove a motive for the crime, yet if ever there 
 was a case in which the Jury would require the most satisfactory 
 Evidence of motive, it was the present, in which the prisoner was 
 • said to have murdered his own child, of whom he was admittedly 
 very fond. The motive suggested by the prosecution — namely, that 
 the prisoner intended to bring a false, charge of Vjurdcr against his 
 enemies — was completely negatived by his own conduct immediately 
 after the, death of his daughter, when, he never even suggested that 
 his daughter had dijed by violence, much less been murdered by
 
 74 
 
 Kadam Ali Fakir. A desperate attempt had been made by the pro- 
 secution, or some one who was pulling the strings from behind, to 
 supply the missing link on the present occasion, by making the child 
 Golak depose here for ti.e first time that the prisoner, while commit- 
 ting the murder, had advised her to accuse the Fakir, but this piece 
 of evidence \<as manifestly tutored ; for, if true, the girl would un- 
 doubtedly have said so either at Bongong or in the Sessions Court at 
 Nuddea. In the High Court, while arguing the appeal of the pri- 
 soner, Mr. Ghose had pointed out the total absence of evidence of 
 motive, and had, as he now thought, somewhat injudiciously 
 ^observed that even the girl did not say that the prisoner had 
 advised her to accuse anyone else. When this argument was 
 used,rnobody knew that the case would have to be re-tried, and the 
 girl's evidence on the present occasion seemed to have been prepared 
 for the express puq)ose of meeting this argument, which had been 
 previously urged in favour of the prisoner. On the medical evidence, 
 and especially from the fact that not a drop of blood ever^came out 
 of the wound in the abdomen, the Jury would have no doubt whatever 
 that the wound in question was not the cause of death, hut that it 
 was inflicted after death for some purpose or other, if it really had ever 
 attained the size which the doctor had described. The evidence of 
 the head-constable, corroborated by his entry, made at the time in 
 his inquest report, showed that the wound, when first seen, was a 
 small triangular wound ; the prisoner himself had described it as slight 
 before the police came, and it was obvious that the spear producedt'n i 
 Court could not possibly Jiave caused a triangular wound. It IjecameJl 
 therefore, necessary to say that the wound wa^. not triangular; and ac- 
 cordiiYgly the doctor, who was an intimate friend of the inspector, 
 had either given subsequently a description of the wound which was 
 not true, or the wound had been made to assume a different shape 
 before the body wa»' examined hy him. The pnnchayet^ witness had 
 also admitted that when he first saw the wound, it was as the head- 
 constable had described it in hio report. It was most important ^o 
 bear in mind, as admitted by all the witnesses, tl]at the villagers and
 
 75 
 
 the police, when they first saw this wound, all thought it might have 
 been snake-bite. There was then nothing in the size of the wound 
 or in the appearance of the corpse inconsistent with the hypothesis 
 of the child having died of snake-bite. The police and the villagers i 
 went the length of digging the floor of the prisoner's house for severali 
 hours in order to discover the snake. This fact had a mdst important! 
 bearing on the case, both as regards the size of the wound, as well as 
 the prisoner's conduct; and this important fact had not, unfortunately, 
 been elicited at Nuddea. Mr. Ghose also relied upon this fact for 
 another purpose. During the previous trial at Nuddea, the police 
 had tried to make out that the reason why the head-constable had 
 not been able to examine the child Golak on Wednesday was that 
 the prisoner had taken care to conceal her in the onion field du.ving 
 the whole time that the head-constable was in the village. This was 
 the case for the prosecution at Nuddea ; and it was the case here also, 
 as the Government Pleader had stated in his opening address. If the 
 prosecution had succeeded in establishing this circumstance, it would 
 undoubtedly have been most damaging to the prisoner; but Mr. Ghose 
 ihad the satisfaction of feeling that he 'had completely succeeded in 
 exposing the villainy which led to the concoction of this piece of evi- 
 dence. Not only the child, in her examination-in-chief, had forgotten 
 her instructions regarding her father having sent her away, but when 
 taken unawares, and not perceiving the drift of the question, she 
 readily admitted having been present on the Wednesday morning at 
 the ^ligging incident, which naturally had made an impression on her 
 iTn'fnd. She even pointed out the head-constajile who superintended 
 the digging in her presence, and admitted, in re-examination, that the 
 tprpse was then in the house, though she had stated in her exanfina- 
 •tion-in-chief that she did not return from the onion field before 
 the corpse was sent away. It was therefore clear that the j^olice had 
 
 deliberate ly fabricated this part pQhe_2ase, partly "io account for not 
 examining the girl, and partly to prejudice the mind of the Court 
 against tUe prisoner. This case showed how imjiortant it was for the || 
 Court in every case to send for the police papers and to test with the |
 
 76 
 
 I aid of those papers the evidence given in Court. As regards the evi- 
 dence of the child (the only eye-witness in the case), Mr. Ghose re- 
 marked that no one who had heard her in Court could for a moment 
 doubt that she had been tutored to tell a short story, and that her 
 conduct was most unnatural, and unlike that of a simple truthful child. 
 She first denied that her mother's mother was alive, and on being 
 pressed said she could not answer the question without consulting 
 her mother ! This reply of the child was far more significant and im- 
 I)ressive than if fifty witnesses had come forward to prove that she 
 had been tutored. The Jury would be able to judge from this cir- 
 cumstance alone how utterly worthless the child's story was. 
 This grandmother was in the house that night, and she would 
 be tte first person to whom the child would naturally report the 
 matter, if she had really seen her sister being killed, and this grand- 
 mother's very existence even was at first denied by the child, 
 who, on second thoughts, said she must consult her mother 
 before answering any more questions about her grandmother. 
 On points on which the child had not been instructed she came 
 out with the truth like a child, but she was far too intelligent not * 
 'to stick to the principal parts of her story. Mr. Ghose then com- 
 mented in detail on the evidence of the prisoner's wife, and on her 
 conduct, and characterised the other witnesses for the prosecution' 
 as utterly unworthy, of credit, and brought up to support a false case, 
 observing that it was perfectly clear that the deceased had never been 
 killed by anyone; that she had died either a natural and sudcjen 
 death, or had died froip snake-bite. The wound on the abdomen, I 
 if not originally a bite, must have been fabricated after death. If I 
 fabricated on behalf of the prisoner, it must have been foolishly, and' 
 through fear, done for the purpose of manufacturing a snake-bite, ' 
 after no bite was discovered on searching the body; and if fabri- 
 cated by an ener».'y, it must have been done for the purpose of 
 making evidence against the prisoner. The child might have been ^ 
 bitten by a snake on the head-«and no one had examined ber Igng 
 hair to see if there was a bite — or she might have j^een bitten on s©me
 
 77 
 
 other part of the body. It was not necessary for the Jury to speculate 
 as to how the child had died, nor was it incumbent on the prisoner 
 to explain that. Any number of suggestions could be made as to the 
 probable cause of the child's death, but such speculations were wholly 
 unnecessary. It was enough for the prisoner to show that the medical 
 evidence could not be relied upon ; that the child's stoty was a pure 
 fabrication, and that she had been put up by the police and her 
 mother to tell this story. The inspector, who had the getting up of 
 the evidence, though present in Court, had not ventured to come 
 forward to be cross-examined, or to deny the statements of the 
 witnesses which affected him ; and the Jury could have no doubt that 
 Dwarka Rai, constable, who had told a number of lies, and the 
 inspector, who had not the courage to come forward, really tknew 
 more about the true history and the origin of this extraordinary case 
 than either of them had thought it fit or safe to disclose. The 
 prisoner had not been defended before, .and many important facts 
 had not, consequently, been elicited at the previous trial. This case 
 showed the great dimmer of_rej}^ni^JmplJ£ii^^^^ 
 
 ' l ittle children , and convicting persons on the strength of ^ost-niorfem 
 reiiflits made by i ncomp etent doctorSf after careless and perfunctory 
 examination of the body. It also showed how necessary it was to 
 
 'cross-examine the witnesses carefully on points connected with the 
 origin and the first inception of a case, as it was quite clear that for 
 the first three days the witnesses never came out with their present 
 sto/y ; and it was not until Friday morning that the inspector got the 
 jh-isoner's wife and child to accuse him. >Jr. Ghose was therefore 
 confident the Jury would acquit the prisoner without any hesitation. 
 
 THE JUDGE'S CHARGE TO THE JURY. 
 
 Gentlkmen of the Jury, — The prisoner -ij charged with the 
 
 murder of his own child, a little girl under lo years of age — a child 
 
 of whopi he has been said to have ,)Deen fond, and to whom he has 
 
 ■ bee;i said to have been kind, and the only eye-witness is another
 
 78 
 
 child of his, a little girl younger than the deceased. To account for 
 the prisoner's act (an act, the brutality of which renders it, I may say, 
 incredible, unless accounted for by motive or explained by insanity), 
 the prosecution says that the prisoner had a quarrel with one Kadam 
 Ali Fakir, with whose wife he was suspected of having had criminal 
 familiarity, avid who had taken proceedings against him, and that he 
 (the prisoner) killed his daughter in order to fasten' a charge on his 
 enemy, Kadam Ali. 
 
 It has been impossible to conceal from you during the trial of 
 the case, that a Jury sitting at Nuddea had found the prisoner guilty 
 of murder, and that sentence of death had been recorded against 
 him. But, as has been very properly put to you by the Government 
 Pleader, you must not allow that fact to influence you in any way, 
 and you must approach the case as if it was an absolutely new one. 
 
 The manner in which the prisoner is said to have killed his child 
 (Nekjan) is this: On Monday afternoon, the 27th March, prisoner 
 sent his wife to his brother's house. She took with her one little girl 
 and a sucking infant. Prisoner was left with two girls, Nekjan and 
 Golak. They three went to sleep on the same mat in the verandah. • 
 In the night Golak was awakened by Nekjan kicking her, and when 
 she opened her eyes she saw that her father was pressing Nekjan's 
 throat with his foot, so that she (Nekjan) coi^ld not articulate, but' 
 was writhing, and then stabbed her with a spear in the abdomen. 
 After this Nekjan lay still, and Golak knew by pulling her that she 
 was dead. , 
 
 Now, if a person is suffocated and stabbed, you expect to be told 
 that a post-7nortem examination of the body will enable a medical 
 expert to tell us that he saw signs of suffocation, and that death was,' 
 evidently produced either partly by suffocation and partly by stabbing 
 (that is, by the combination of two injuries), or wholly by one or the 
 other. But in thistcase we haye the following extraordinary results 
 from the medical evidence: — i. No trace of suffocation was observed 
 by the doctor who cut up the b^dy. 2. The wound of the abdomen, 
 which that doctor reported after he had examined the body to be J:he
 
 79 
 
 cause of death, is not a serious wound. 3. The superior of that 
 doctor, to whom his report was submitted, tells us that he does not 
 .think the materials are sufficient for us to predicate that the wound 
 { was inflicted during life or after death. 4. The superior officer tells 
 us that he does not think the former had sufficient cause to state as 
 a matter of certainty that death was not caused by srake-bite. 5. 
 He also tells us that if the child had died from snake-bite in the 
 abdomen, and that some one had shortly after death increased the 
 size 01 the wound, the symptoms observed in the body would not be 
 inconsistent with such a hypothesis. I must direct you that on such 
 medical evidence, which was the only evidence submitted to you, it - 
 is impossible for you to find that Nekjan was killed by violence.* 
 You will remember a curious incident which came out in the exa^pina- 
 tion of the native doctor, viz., that that officer, in column 3 of his 
 report, writes that the wound was triangular, and he tells us that 
 (though this was not proved) he had inserted this in his report, which 
 he drew up after making his examination, because the police had 
 reported it to be triangular. Again, though there were appearances 
 , in the body calculated to suggest the suspicion of strangulation, the 
 native doctor made no examination specially calculated to elucidate 
 the point. Further, though he observed that no blood seemed to 
 ^ave flowed out of the wound, he did not examine whether there was 
 anything to show that circulation had been suspended previously to 
 its infliction (which is the only possible cause which could prevent 
 blood coming out), and he did not even notice the fact in his report. 
 L/egret to be compelled to say that the inference is that this officer 
 conducted \\\% postmortem examin.'iif'i in a most perfunctory manner, 
 
 and acted in a manner which si iliat he did not realise the 
 
 responsibilities of his position. Placed as he was in the position of 
 a scientific expert, he gave expression to categorical opinions on 
 insufficient data in a matter of life and death. Whilst I am on the 
 subject of the wound, I would point out to you how extraordinary 
 it is tha^t the native doctor should slate that it is such a wound as 
 wou|d be produced by a spear. AVhen the prisoner went, on the
 
 8o 
 
 28th, to the tho?mai he reported that his child had died from snake- 
 bite, and that there was a slight wound on her stomach. Mark the 
 word slight. The man must have known that a poUce officer would 
 be soon on the spot, agd if the wound had been such as the native . 
 doctor describes, his story would at once have been proved to be 
 false. Agaiiv, when the head-constable came down (he was clearly 
 not in a hurry, but aqted as one would expect Him to do when 
 nothing grave was before him), he held the usual suruth-hal, or 
 rough 'mquest, prevalent in the mofiissil^ and reported the wound to 
 be slight and triangular in shape. You will remember the witness 
 Uma Charan (a witness of whom I will have to speak later on) ; he 
 is the village pmichayet, and when he was in the witness-box I drew 
 a triangle and a straight line on a piece of paper and asked him what 
 was the shape of the wound. He selected the triangle. How, then, 
 ' did the triangular wound of Tuesday become the rectilineal wound 
 I of Wednesday or Thursday ? The whole of this portion of the case 
 tends to lead one's mind into a path which might carry us to most 
 startling conclusions, but which must pass through the mire of 
 uncertainty ; and in the presenV case it is specially necessary to divest . 
 your minds of all speculation, and keep steadily 'before you the 
 affirmative issue— "Has the prosecution proved the prisoner's guilt?" 
 But I have placed these considerations before ^ou because they tend 
 to emphasise the worthlessness of the native doctor's report. 
 
 But although we are left in the dark by the medical evidence, 
 yet, if you believe the story told by the child Golak, there is sufficient 
 for you to come to the^ conclusion that the prisoner killed^ Nekjan, 
 and such killing would be murder. I will now proceed to examine 
 the child's story, connecting it, of course, with the depositions of tht 
 other witnesses, and will simply premise this : It is, of tourse» 
 necessary in every case to weigh carefully every statement, but if 
 there is a case wliere more anxious deliberation than ordinary is 
 called for, it would be such a one as the present, where the medical^ 
 - evidence does not help the statement of the witness. 
 
 Now, you have seen this little girl, and you will have noticed,.that
 
 8i 
 
 she is intelligent. At the outset of her story we are met with a con- 
 siderable discrepancy between what she says now and what she said 
 before the Magistrate. Before the Magistrate she said she awoke to 
 answer a call of nature, but here she says her^ister kicked her. To 
 the judge of Nuddea she said something touched her body. She 
 says that what she told the Magistrate was a lapse of memory : you 
 will remember the vernacular expression she employed. Apart 
 from other considerations, this is a serious discrepancy ; but docs it 
 not raise in your minds a suspicion that some one has made the 
 child give an account that would sound better than the first? Again, 
 you will note — and this is of the highest importance — that in 
 this Court she has added a statement of which not a word was 
 breathed at Bongong or at Nuddea, namely, when she questioned ^ 
 her father at the time, he told her to lay the blame on the Fakir. V 
 The effect of this is, of course, to make a basis for the story of 
 motive to which I have before alluded, and to which I will again 
 refer. And the prisoner's wife, in answer to some questions which 
 were put to her by myself, says that the child told her that her father 
 had said to her — " The blame will be pound the neck of Kadam Ali ". 
 Now, do you c6nsider that if the prisoner had really made any such 
 statement, it would only come out at this stage? If he did not, the 
 •^hild must be lying in saying that he did ; and if she lies, she must 
 have been taught to lie. Now, in connection with this, I will draw 
 your attention to the following circumstances; — You will rcincmbcr 
 that.this case commenced in this Court on Friday ; on that day were 
 examined three witnesses, and on Saturday the first witness in the 
 box was the child ; she was in attendance on Friday, and she was 
 ;:skcd on Saturday what happened to her on Friday after she vfas 
 released from attendance. She tells us that she and her mother were 
 taken to the inspector's residence, and there she and her mother 
 were introduced to him separately, and she was made to rehearse her 
 s.tory. Of course the inference is, from the child's evidence, that the 
 mother was made to do the same. The mother denies this. You 
 
 will Weigh the statem(^nts. Again, you will note that the child was 
 
 6
 
 1 
 
 82 
 
 asked a very simple question as to whether her mother's mother was 
 alive, and that, though she evinced a singular reluctance to answer 
 this, she eventually admitted that she was alive (and there can he 
 no doubt the old woman lives in the same premises) ; and once, 
 when the question was pressed, she said, "I must ask my mother ". 
 It is inconceivable that a child should have any natural difificulty in 
 saying that she had a maternal grandmother living iri the same house, 
 and thus you have before you the following facts : — (i) The child at 
 the third hearing of the case introduces an entirely new feature about 
 her father having told her to lay the blame on his enemy ; (2) she 
 tells us how she was taken, after leaving this Court, to rehearse her 
 story to the inspector; (3) whilst questioned as to a circumstance, 
 which must have been as well known to her as the alternation of day 
 and night, she says she must ask her mother ; and still further, you 
 will remember that as a child she was not sworn as an adult, but she 
 was questioned as to her knowledge of truth, and she said that a lie 
 was a sin — pap was the word she used, and that she told us the 
 inspector had drilled her on this subject. You will have to say 
 whether these circumstances 'lead you to accept the child as a spon-< 
 taneous witness of what she saw, or as a witness who has learnt a lesson. 
 And I need hardly point out to you that, just as a child's evidence is 
 ordinarily valuable, because of its prima fac'.e spontaneity, so is it-.'j 
 value depreciated when there is anything to cause a suspicion of 
 tutoring, because of the facility with which children yield to outside 
 influence. , 
 
 Then look at the .manner in which the case is presented to^us. 
 The person to put the engine in motion is the prisoner. He told the 
 l^olice that there was a slight wound on his child's stomach, and that 
 he thought she had been bitten by a snake. The head-constable. 
 Ram Das, evidently thought that thcJre was nothing calling for a 
 display of energy', and sent iiis subordinate, Dwarka -Rai- This man 
 was treated by the prosecution as a merely formal witness, who hod 
 to prove the identity of the forpse. ]>ut when he was subjected to 
 cross-examination, he turned out to be a thoroughly unsatisfactory
 
 83 
 
 witness, who, though he was deputed by the inspector to take a 
 leading part in the investigation, and must have known as much, and 
 perhaps more, than anyone connected with the case, sheltered 
 himself under the plea of " I do not rememJDer," almost invariably, | 
 whenever any important question was asked him, and whose evidence 
 was so full of contradictions that it was difificult to record. When 
 the inspector was told by the native doctor t'.Aat the case was one of 
 murder, this man was the official selected to go down and see into it. 
 He tells us that he did not ask the prisoner's wife and child what 
 they knew. This is a statement in itself difficult to believe, and it is 
 directly contradicted by the wife, who says that tlie first person to 
 whom she told what she knew was this Dwarka. 
 
 t have said that Ram Das was not in a hurry. After sending 
 Dwarka on Tuesday, he followed on Wednesday. I have already 
 told you how he accepted the theory of snake-bite, held his inquest, 
 and reported accordingly. ^Vhatever you may tliink of his subse- 
 quent conduct, there is nothing to show he was not then acting with 
 l?oua fides. He tells us that he very carefully examined the wound 
 , on the abdoftien, and that it was supzrficial and triangular. He also 
 tells us that he asked prisoner's wife what she knew, and that she 
 said — " I was not there. I cannot say how the child died." He tells 
 us that the floor of pr?>soner's verandah was dug up, and a search was 
 made for a snake.. You will have noted how the other witnesses have 
 answered questions as to this digging up, and you will consider 
 whether you are satisfied that the floor was dug up. You will ask 
 
 jourselves whether you do or do not think that there was then a bonfi 
 
 *> '* 
 
 fide belief in the theory of snakc-bitc. On this point you will notice 
 that the man Umcsh (Jbazee, who is said to have dug up ilic (locr, is 
 not called by the prosecution, and his wife Dhiru, who is called, sa)s 
 he took a kodali (spade) for the purpose of digging up the floor. 
 
 The n-jxt r-tage in the rase is, that the body is examined by the 
 native doctor, whose report I iiave already analysed for your 
 benefit. I need not recapitulate. Ihe result was that the prisoner 
 was put on his trial for murder.
 
 84 
 
 Now the men who took up the clue given by the doctor were 
 Dwarka, constable (under the orders of the inspector), and the 
 inspector himself. I have examined the non me recordo evidence of 
 Dwarka, and it is certainly a singular fact that the inspector has not 
 been i)ut into the witness-box, and this point I would draw your 
 attention to. <■ Assuming that the native doctor fcand a deep incised 
 wound, the only thing 'that he could predicate was that it had been 
 caused by a sharp-cutting instrument. But Dwarka tells us that the 
 f inspector ordered him to go and look for a spear. 
 
 It is clear that a number of men were on the spot soon after the 
 event, and yet the only man produced is Uma Charan Punchayet. 
 The prosecutor says that the first person to come to the prisoner's 
 house after the murder was the old woman Haru, and the next was 
 the younger Dhiru, sister of prisoner's wife. You will notice that 
 although these women are supposed to have been attracted by the 
 cries of a child, yet the child says she never cried ; and in fact, part 
 of the evidence goes to show that it was the prisoner who raised the 
 lamentation which drew the attention of the neighbourhood. The 
 child says that her father, wheniie returned, called out loudly — " Oh, > 
 neighbours, how is it my Nekjan is dead ? " Although the wife told 
 the Judge of Nuddea that she found her husband crying, she says 
 here most emphatically that he never cried, e 
 
 The old woman Haru's statement is as follows : — She says she 
 heard the child crying, and went to h^r, and then found the prisoner 
 with the living child and the corpse. Golak told her that her father 
 had killed Nekjan in the manner related, and the prisoner lifted bis 
 hand on the cbild in a threatening manner, but did not strike her. 
 She contradicts here what she said at Nuddea on two points. There-- 
 she said she saw a wound : here she says she did not. There she 
 said prisoner threatened to strangle Golak : here she says he did not. 
 From the evidence of Dhiru' (sister of prisoner's wifq), whether she 
 went to prisoner's house or not, it is clear that her husband preceded 
 her, and, as I have pointed out before, though he must be a'^material 
 witness, he is not called. This woman says she did not go up tG the
 
 85 
 
 body, and she is throughout consistent in what she says the child told 
 her, which is, that the prisoner had killed Nekjan by pressing her throat 
 with his foot, but without mentioning anything about the spear. The 
 prisoner's wife is the next woman brought H^n the stage, and she 
 says that the prisoner's guilt was revealed to her by the child. It 
 is manifest that the object of the prosecution in tendering these three ' 
 women for examination as witnesses is to get over or avoid the 
 stumbling-block created by the inference that the child had not said 
 to those around her what she had seen. The case for the prosecu- 
 tion now is, that she told it to Haru at one time, to Dhiru at another, 
 and to her own mother at another. No two together, you observe. 
 Sporadic evidence of this description is easy to make, and presents 
 few opportunities to the cross-examiner. And it seems to me to 
 raise another difficulty whilst endeavouring to avoid the first. 
 Prisoner's wife knew the facts when Dwarka came first, and when 
 Ram Das followed him. She admits hearing her husband tell the 
 police that the child had died from snake-bite. She narrates to us 
 vividly the particulars of a violent quarrel she had with her husband 
 " when she discovered and noted the perfidy with which he had sent 
 her out of the way. She told him she would never give him his rice 
 again, and he told her he would never again take it at her hands. 
 You, gentlemen, will understand that this was war to the knife 
 declared between them. Hut slie says she never said a word to any 
 policeman till Dwarka's second visit, and her explanation is that she 
 waiP not called. She is contradicted by Ram Das, who says that he 
 did ask lier what she knew, and she is contratlicted by Dwarka, who 
 says he did not ask he, and her name is attached to the report of 
 the inquest sent in by Ram Das. 
 
 I have previously drawn your attention to the fact that, of all the 
 men of the village who must have known something of the facts, 
 only one lias Deen called. The exception is Uma Charan I'un- 
 chay^t. This man commences his evidence by saying that Umesh 
 Ghazee (you will remember him as the husband of Dhiru and the 
 man who dug the floor, but has not been called) came to him and
 
 86 
 
 told hira that he was requested to come by the prisoner and a 
 number of men, as Nekjan was lying dead. He went and saw the 
 corpse, asked the prisoner how the child had died, and was told by 
 him at first that he could not tell, and afterwards that it was a snake- 
 bite. He examined the body, and saw a triangular wound. The 
 rest of his evidence is an attempt to make us believe, that he had his 
 suspicion ; that he saw a spear in some jungle in one place and a 
 large sacrificial knife in another place ; that he gave orders that these 
 were net to be touched, and he told the prisoner to go and report 
 the matter to the police, and to take a written report with him, which 
 he (witness) was just going to write at Iiis own house ; that the 
 prisoner never came, and the report was never written. The counsel 
 for the prisoner has described this in addressing you as a "cock-and- 
 bull " story. The epithet is a graphic one, and I think appropriate. 
 And we find that this man's name is attached to the report of the 
 inquest. Ram Das was examined after Uma Charan, and it was 
 during the examination of Ram Das that this fact was discovered ; 
 otherwise, probably, Uma Chajan would have been severely cross- 
 examined on the point. 
 
 I have already told you that there is no legal necessity for the 
 
 prosecution to prove the existence of a motive for the deed. But 
 
 t 
 the prosecution has very naturally considered it advisable to set up 
 
 and try to prove a motive. But up to the time the case was presented 
 
 in this Court, the existence of the motive was a matter of pure specu-. 
 
 lation. Certainly, the prisoner had been accused by one Kadam 
 
 Ali Fakir of having iridecently as.saulted his wife ; and after heanng 
 
 the wonjan, who has been put into the witness-box before us, we may 
 
 reasonably entertain a strong suspicion that there was an intrigue 
 
 between her and the prisoner. But there was nothing but hypothesis 
 
 on which to cony.truct the theor)' of motive, and when the obvious 
 
 objection was rai.sed that the prisoner had made no accusation against 
 
 the Fakir, the prosecution was^^driven to another hypothesis, and that 
 
 was, that probably the prisoner had changed his mind, and feared to 
 
 go on when he found that his other child had 'blurted out the truth.
 
 87 
 
 This is not evidence; it is imagination. Now, as I have said, we have 
 the child saying that her father disclosed his plot to her at the time. 
 That is to say, what was before based on nothing is now based on a lie! 
 
 ' It has been argued — "Can you believe that a child and a wife can 
 try and bring a man to the scaffold by giving^false evidence ? " No 
 doubt, it is a violent shock to one's feelings to suppose so. But a 
 very suggestive cirfcumstance has been deposed to in ihis Court by 
 the child. She says that after her father was sentenced to death at 
 Nuddea, her mother made an offering at the foot of a sacred tree 
 near the Court, and gave her some of the sweetmeats which .she had 
 offered. The mother denies this. You have heard them both, and 
 you will say which you believe. Further, the woman admits that 
 she never went to see hei husband in prison, and that though persons 
 in Court told her that she could appeal for nothing, she made ao at- 
 tempt to do so. If you infer from these circumstances the existence 
 of an animus on the part of the wife, not only does the difficulty dis- 
 appear, but you can readily understand how easily the mother, and 
 through her the child, could be manipulated. 
 
 You have, then — (i) Medical evidence founded on a perfunctory 
 post-mortem and a self-contradictory report, which leaves liie cjuestion 
 of the cause of death unsolved ; (2) the deposition of the child, eye- 
 witness, with a manifest lie in it, and open to very grave suspicion of 
 having been tutored; (3) the general evidence, which I have analysed 
 for you; (4) the story of the motive, originally pure speculation, requir- 
 ing additional speculation to make it plausible, and now sujjported by 
 a lie ; and (5) the evidence as to animus on ihe part of the wife. No 
 doubt the case is involved in mystery ; but your duty does not 
 extend to the discove-^- of absolute truth, but only to discovering 
 ' whether it is proved that the prisoner is guilty. 
 
 /u/y 24, 18S2. (Sd.) A. C. Brett. 
 
 The jury,' after retiring for less tfian a minute, returned a una- 
 nimous verdict of " Not guilty," in which the Judge said he entirely 
 concurred. The prisoner was thereupon acquitted and released.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE MYSTERY REVEALED. 
 
 After the case was transferred by the High Court from Nuddea 
 to Alipur for re-trial, I decided to defend the prisoner, and about 
 the middle of July, 1882, I visited him in the Nuddea jail, at the 
 request of his Pleader, Baboo Akhay Kumar Mukerjee, who thought 
 that if I personally saw the prisoner, he might be disposed to com- 
 municate to me some information regarding the case likely to prove 
 useful at the second trial. I -.vas accompanied by the Pleader and 
 by Dr. Brander, the superintendent of the jail, who stated to me that 
 from the beginning he had entertained grave doubts regarding the 
 prisoner's guilt, and who also expressed his regi3t that during the trial 
 at Nuddea there was no one to examine him on behalf of the prisoner, 
 and to elicit from him evidence likely to help the defence. Soon 
 after our arrival, the prisoner was brought in, and on my name being 
 mentioned to him he fell prostrate at my feet and began to weep. 
 What transpired at the interview will appear from the following con- 
 vercation between the prisoner and myself: — 
 
 " I am entirely innocent. Save my life." 
 
 " But how did your child die ? Until you are able to give me 
 some information' on this point, it will not he possible for a.iy of us to 
 defend you properly." 
 
 "I know nothing about it.'
 
 89 
 
 " You must know something, and unless you tell us the truth on 
 this point we can do nothing ; your case is an extremely difficult one." 
 
 " I know nothing." 
 ^ " But why does your own daughter accuse you of the murder ?" 
 
 " The police have tutored her, and her statements are false. My J 
 wife and daughter have both been saying what they were taught to I 
 say.'' 
 
 At this stage Dr. Brander and the Pleadfer left the room at my 
 request, and the conversation between the prisoner and myself pro- 
 ceeded : — 
 
 " I am quite convinced in my own mind that you know how your 
 child died, and unless you explain to me the cause of the child's death, 
 I shall find it extremly difficult to defend you at the trial." 
 
 " I found my child dead on my return from the field. I .don't 
 know how she died. Do as you like, but I know nothing." 
 
 '* Muluk Chand ! I believe you did not intentionally kill your 
 child; but I cannot believe you know nothing. If you decline to tell 
 me the truth, you make it almost impossible for me to defend you, 
 and you run the risk of being hanged." 
 
 " I know nothing." 
 
 " Never mind how your child was killed. I am certain that the 
 wound on her body was inflicted after death, and you must know all 
 about it." 
 
 [At this the prisoner looked confused and agitated, and caught 
 ho]d of my feet.] 
 ' "What makes you say the wound was caused after dcaili ?" 
 
 " I am sure it was." 
 
 "Have you he.ird it from Umesh Clhazce, my brother-in-law?" 
 
 " I never heard of him. But what does he know?" 
 
 "Well, sir, as you know all about the wound, if you will excuse 
 me, I will tell you everything. 'Ihat man, Umesh (Ihazec, is the 
 
 L 
 
 cause of cW my troubles. He made the wound, and advised me to say 
 that, it was a snake-bite. When we discovered that my child Nekjan 
 was dead, and did not know how to account for her death, my brother-
 
 90 
 
 in-law, Umesh (ihazee, brought his small knife and made the wound, 
 but n_o blood came out of it, as the child was then dead." 
 
 " What about the spear? Was that never used?'' 
 
 " No, the spear was never thought of until the police got r?y 
 child to accuse me of niurder." 
 
 " Did not your child accuse you when your wife returned home 
 and before the police came?" ♦ 
 
 "All that is utterly untrue. I was not accused before Thursday 
 night. When Ram Das Jemadar came on Wednesday, he made 
 Umesh phazee dig the floor of my house in the hope of getting the 
 snake. My child, Golak, was there then, and so was my wife. The 
 inspector subsequently sent for my wife and child, and told them I 
 had myself confessed, and got them to say what he liked. I met my 
 wife cne day, as I was being taken to the Magistrate's Court, and sh'e 
 cried out — 'Is it true you have admitted having killed Nekjan ?' I 
 replied — ' No, it is all false '.'' 
 
 I then said — " I am glad you have told me all about the wound. 
 But why did Umesh Ghazee make it so big ? '' 
 
 " It was very slight at first, but it was subsequently enlarged by 
 the police while the corpse was being carried to Bongong. They 
 wanted Rs. 30 from me, but I had not so much to give them." 
 
 It will thus be seen that when I defended the accused at Alipur, 
 at the second trial, I had no information whatever regarding the 
 cause of the child's death, but I felt convinced in my own mind that 
 the case was not one of murder, and that the prisoner probably bad 
 not ventured to disclose the whole truth. I was, however^, greatty 
 relieved to find that I had elicited during the interview one most 
 valuable piece of information, which showed that the theory I had 
 put forward before the High Court was perfectly correct, viz., 
 tfthat the wound on the deceased child had been fabricated after 
 H death. This fac't^once established, the conclusion became irresis- 
 tible that the medical evidence in the case could no*! b^ depended 
 upon, as it could throw no light whatever on the cause of the cbild'^ 
 death. The information regarding the digging of the floor by Umesh
 
 91 
 
 Ghazee, under the orders of the pohce, appeared to be of the 
 utmost importance, as nothing had transpired regarding this matter 
 at.'the first trial. The fact that at the second trial Umesh Ghazee's 
 wife, Dhiru, fainted, or pretended to faint, whdh cross-examined about 
 the part her own husband had played in the case, was full of signi- 
 ficance to those who knew the secret at the time ; but to the Judge, 
 the Jury, and to the public at large her conduct in the witness-box 
 seemed to have no special meaning.* 
 
 On the morning of the 25th July, 1882, the day after the acquittal 
 of Muluk Chand Chaukidar, his daughter, Golak Mani, accompanied 
 by her mother, c ame to see him in mv house, and I had then the 
 following conversation with the child : — 
 
 " Who killed your sister ? " » 
 
 No answer. 
 
 Question repeated. 
 
 The girl, with tears in her eyes — " I don't know ". 
 
 " Did you not see your father kill her ? " 
 
 " No. I was asleej) ; and I know nothing." 
 
 " Hut you said in Court only the other day that you saw your 
 father kiM her ? " 
 
 The child, crying — " I was taught to say that ". 
 
 " Who taught you ? '' 
 
 *' Dwarik Constable showed me a sword, and said — ' If you do 
 not say that your father killed your sister with his spear, 1 will cutofiT 
 yoflr head with this sword ; but if you say that in Court, your father 
 will be released and will come home'; I therefore agreed to say that." 
 
 " }3ut what made y/u «ay that, even after you heard that your 
 father was going to be hanged ? "' 
 
 "My mother and {he (faro^t^a (police inspector) sai<l I must say 
 what I had said before, or else I should be punisjied." 
 
 The mother of the child, who was standing by, remained silent 
 .^hewhole time, and did not answer a single question put to her. She 
 looked sad and in great distress of mind. 
 
 • Page 64.
 
 92 
 
 A few days after the acquittal of Muluk Chand I sent for him 
 with a view to ascertain, if possible, the true cause of Nekjan's death; 
 and on that occasion the following conversation took place between 
 him and me : — 
 
 " Muluk Chand, you know that you are acquitted, and that even 
 if you are guilty you cannot now be punished. You have nothing to 
 fear. Tell me truly how your child died." 
 
 Muluk Chand, with tears in his eyes, catching hold of my feet — 
 "You have saved my life, and I would not deceive you on any account. 
 
 1 am the most miserable creature on earth, and I ought to have 
 been hanged. It would have been better for me." 
 
 " What ! Did you, then, kill your child ? " 
 
 ",you have every right to call me the murderer of my daughtef, 
 though I would have gladly given my own life to save hers.'' 
 
 " Tell me the whole truth without any fear." 
 
 Muluk Chand then, with tears in his eyes, made the following 
 statement to me : — 
 
 " On Monday night I was sleeping in my verandah with my two 
 daughters. My wife had gone away to bring some money from my 
 brother. I have some vegetables growing in my yard b°low my 
 verandah, and opposite to it is my cowshed, where I keep a cow. 
 There was a stray bull in our village which gaVe me much trouble. 
 It used to come almost every night to my house and cause mischief. 
 In order to drive the animal away, I used to keep near my pillow a 
 khatia (the pole of a husking machine, a heavy piece of wood about 
 a yard in length, and about 14 to 18 inches in circumference), and 
 whenever the animal came, I used to run after it with that khatia. 
 On Monday night it was dark and cloudy, and I fancy it was about 
 
 2 .A.M. when I heard, while sleeping, some footsteps which I imagined 
 to be those of the bull, just below my verandah and opposite the cow- 
 shed. Believing the animal had come again, and without gbing up to 
 it, I threw my khatia with great force towards the spot where I tma7 
 gined the bull was standing. I immediately heard the sound, ' Oh 
 ma ! ' and recognising the voice of my darling child \Bachha was the
 
 93 
 
 word used], I felt convinced that she had been hit. She had quietly 
 gone down in the dark without my knowledge, probably to answer some 
 cal| of nature. I at once rushed out and lifted her up in my arms, but 
 found she was gasping and unable to spa^k. ■The khatia had hit her 
 on the back, just below the neck, but the mark of the blow was not 
 noticed by the police and the villagers.* I lighted a lamp-and saw that 
 my child was dead, and that blood was coming out of her mouth and 
 nostrils. My first impulse was to throw myself into a well or the river 
 and commit suicide, and with that intention I went a few paces ; but 
 I changed my mind and thought I had better consult my brother-in- 
 law, Umesh Ghazee, who was sleeping in an adjoining house. I 
 called him and told him what had happened. He said — ' What have 
 ydn done ? The police will come to-morrow morning, tie your hands 
 and get you imprisoned for ten years.' I asked his advice, and he 
 first suggested that I should give out that the bull had killed the 
 child, but I declined to accept that suggestion, as I knew that some 
 
 ■* men of our village in a recent case had set up the defence that a 
 young man who had complained of certain injuries had been gored 
 
 • by a bull, but this defence was not Delieved, and the accused were 
 convicte^ Umesh Ghazee then suggested that I might accuse the 
 Fakirs who were at enmity with me, hut this I declined to do. He 
 then said — 'Your best plan is to say that your daughter died of 
 snake-bite'. To which I replied — ' But there is no mark of any bite'. 
 ' That is easily done,' said he ; 'let me go and fetch my small knife 
 with which I cut mangoes, and let us make a bite.' Saying this, he 
 wfcnt to his room and brought his knife, and sa'xi — 'You make a snake- 
 bite with this'. I said— ',1 will not lay violent hands on my dead child ; 
 'you do as you think best '. 'rhereui)on Umesh Ghazee niacJc a 
 
 * It will be seen that the doctor who made the posliiioricm examination h.-id 
 not thought it necessary to examine the spinal cord of the doceascd (see his cross- 
 examination at the second trial, patjc 55). At the lime the doctor was cross-cxa- 
 Tiincd I had no information whatever regarding any injury to the spinal cord, 
 -iJrUt the siqns of death from asphyxia suggc: ',ed the question tome. I may add 
 that the accused was too ignorant to understand or to follow the medical evidence, 
 whicK was given in English.— M. G.
 
 
 I 
 
 94 f 
 
 slight wound in the abdomen. I asked — ' Why have you selected "': 
 
 that part of the body ? ' He replied — ' If the snake had bit- I 
 
 ten the child in the foot or in the hand, how is it she • 
 
 did not wake up? 'Hut if she was bitten in the abdomen, see | 
 
 must have become unconscious instantly.'* He then said — 'Now go ; 
 in the direction of your onion field, and on your );eturn, after a while, 
 
 call us all and say thai your child has died of snake-bite '. I acted i 
 
 according to this advice, and roused all my neighbours, early on j 
 Tuesday morning. They all came and examined the body, and 
 imagined Nekjan had died of snake-bite. I left for the thanna 
 
 (police station) before my wife returned, and met there Inspector ; 
 Golam Rahman, who knew me well, and had been very kind to me. 
 
 I told him privately that I had come to report the death of my cnild ; ,!^ 
 
 \ 
 
 »■ '■] 
 
 that I did not know how she died at night ; and that some of my 
 
 neighbours said she died of snake-bite, while others said my enemies, ^ 
 
 the Fakirs, might have killed her. He then advised me on no account | 
 
 to accuse anyone, but simply to state that I did not know how the<- 'i 
 
 child died. He said he was about to go away on leave that day^ but \ 
 he would direct his head-constahle to be kind to me. He then ^ent c 
 
 for Ram Das Sircar, head-constable, and said — 'Go and see this man's ^ 
 
 child, and be kind to him. Don't take any money from him. I '■ 
 
 know he is poor. Go and inquire how his ckild died, and if it is a -' 
 
 case of snake-bite, report accordingly.' ; 
 
 " After recording my statement, the head-constable left the station, \ 
 but Dwarik Constable preceded him, and the head-constable came 
 
 the next morning (Wednesday). After causing my floor to be dug > 
 
 up and examining my neighbours, the head-constable sent the \ 
 
 cospse in charge of Dwarik Constable and some villagers, and I went 13 
 
 with them. Before starting. Sham Mehtar and other neighbours •>! 
 
 told me that if I gave a few rupees to the police there would be no ; 
 
 further trouble, 'i offered Rs. 6, but the police wanted ?.s. 30. At ^ 
 
 last I borrowed Rs. 16, which Sham Mehtar took from me to give the i *f 
 
 * It is popularly believed that a snake-bite in a vital part of the body caus 
 instant insensibility. — ^T. G. ' ^ 
 
 \
 
 J 
 
 95 
 
 police. When taking the corpse to Bongong, we halted on the 
 banks of the Ichamati at a place called Potkhali, where Dwarik Con- 
 stable told me — ' You sola* pay for our breakfast; you have given me 
 n jthing, and unless you pay, you will get into^ trouble '. I said I had 
 already paid Rs. i6. Dwarik said he had not got it, and that I must 
 go and get some money. From Potkhali I went back .and brought 
 a couple of rupees. On my return, I saw the constable sitting by 
 •, the side of the corpse examining the wound, which I saw had 
 'increased in size. I asked — 'Who has done this?' The ferryman 
 who was there said that the constable had been inserting* t'rfe stump 
 of an indigo plant into the wound. On hearing this, the constable 
 got angry and threatened to beat the ferryman, saying — ' Sala, can 
 ypu say you have seen me do it ?' The ferryman got frightened and 
 said he had not seen it. 
 
 "After the examination of the body by the doctor, the police 
 arrested me at Bongong, and sent for my wife and daughter. In the 
 lock-up at night, I was beaten by the constables and told to confess. 
 Thiy brought date thorns and pierced them into the quick of my 
 nails [showing four or five fingers witji nails injured]. The inspector, 
 accompanied by another daroga whom I don't know, came and said 
 — 'You better confess. Your daughter and wife are accusing you.' In 
 spite of the torture, I declined to say anything. The constables then 
 said — ' If you did not do it, why do you not accuse Kadam Ali 
 Fakir?' I declined to accuse him." 
 
 Q. — "What made you conceal the truth at the beginning? If 
 you had come out with the truth at once, nothing would have 
 happened to you." 
 
 A. — " I am an ignof'ant man, and I thought no one would beyevc 
 mc, and that the police would accuse me pf murder even if I told 
 the truth."' 
 
 Q. — " But what made you conceal all this whvin I ]>rcssed you in 
 the jail to tell me the truth ?" 
 
 A.--" I then thought you woulc' decline to defend me if I told 
 
 * A term of abuse.
 
 96 
 
 s ' 
 the truth. Sir, I ask your forgiveness for it." [Saying this, he began 
 
 to weep.] 
 
 Q- — "How do you account for the conduct of your wife? Is 
 there any reason why she should have wished to get you hanged?" 
 
 A. — " I have no reason to suspect that she is unfaithful to mh, 
 but she was very jealous, and suspected me of undue familiarity with 
 . the wife of Kadam All Fakir. On returning home and finding t\^^ 
 child dead, she said to me — ' I know you want to live with the Fakir's 
 wife, and that is why you have done this. I will not give you rice 
 any more. I said — ' I shall not have to eat rice cooked by you any 
 
 more'." 
 
 Q. — "Did you tell her on her return what had happened?" 
 A. — I told no one except Umesh Ghazee. He might have told 
 his wife Dhiru. My daughter Golak was asleep till daylight and saw 
 w nothing. Dhiru, Haru, and my wife all gave false evidence through 
 f fear of the police." 
 
 Q. — " Can you exjDlain the conduct of your wife in offering sJiinii* 
 when you were sentenced to death ?" 
 
 A — "The villagers all told her that she herself would get into 
 trouble if the charge against me failed, and she says the offering was 
 by Kadam Ali Fakir, at whose request she joined in it." 
 
 M. CHOSE. 
 
 * Sweets offered by way of thanks. 
 
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