Monday, Dec. 15, 1924
Badger Game
At London in the High Court of Justice, King's Bench Division, before Lord Justice Darling and a special jury composed of men and women, was heard a case legally described as Robinson v. Midland Bank, Limited. It was a civil action, but such were its ramifications that it involved the nephew of Lieutenant General His Highness Maharaja Sir Pratrap Singh, Maharaja of Jammu and Kashmir, a single state in the northernmost part of India. Said The Times:
Great writers have sometimes sought to paint the underworld. Not the most daring among them put upon canvas scenes more revolting or more despicable in the cold-blooded and sordid vices they display than several which the evidence in this case has depicted. The cynicism of most of the characters in the drama provokes laughter, but it is laughter of amazement and of scorn. There is something ludicrous in this naked parade of greed and of obscenity; and the predominant impression it leaves in minds not squeamish over common frailties is that of unmitigated repugnance and disgust.
Some time in 1919, the Maharaja of Kashmir decided that his nephew, Raja Sir Hari Singh, should go to Europe for a visit. To pay his expenses, nearly $4,000,000 was given to him.
Upon this European trip, Sir Hari took with him his aide-de-camp, one Captain C. W. Arthur, whose duty was to safeguard him from danger in all its forms. This position, virtually an appointment by the British Raj, calls for a man of incorruptible honor with the highest sense of duty.
The visit to the Royal Family over, Sir Hari remained in London for a short time before crossing over to Paris to disport himself. In this brief interval, he succumbed to the wiles of a certain bewitching Mrs. Robinson. Apparently, however, the Raja did not treat his ladylove with the liberality that she had expected. Therefore, according to the evidence given at the trial, she became implicated in a plot.
In a certain bed, in a certain hotel, in a certain part of Paris, Sir Hari and
'Maudie" Robinson were comfortably settled when who should burst into the room but a man who said he was Mr. Robinson--and, as Gilbert said, "here's a pretty how d'y'do." The upshot of the incident was that the young Raja, frightened out of his life, as Lord Darling put it, was forced to part with two cheques for about $750,000 each in order to prevent divorce proceedings which would most certainly implicate him as corespondent and have incalculable repercussions back home in Kashmir. Later, upon the advice of his solicitor, Sir Hari stopped payment on one of the cheques, but the other was cashed. One Hobbs, a reprobate solicitor, received the unstopped cheque and deposited it in the name of Robinson in a London Branch of the Midland Bank. Later, he withdrew the money, gave Robinson $125,000, divided the remaining $625,000 among the plotters. In this year of grace, Robinson sought to recover all the money which had been deposited in the Bank, suing that institution for negligence in turning over the money to Hobbs without his authority upon the authority of two forged cheques. Alternately, he claimed damages. But the Bank affirmed, and was upheld by the Court, that Robinson to them was merely a fictitious name and that it was, therefore, entirely within its rights in returning the money to the depositor who represented himself to be Robinson. Furthermore, the Bank declared that, in point of fact, as the money belonged to a certain Eastern Potentate and was forced from him by duress, Robinson's claim could in no way be maintained.
At this juncture Lord Birkenhead's bleary eye caught the words "Eastern Potentate." As Secretary of State for India, he knew the name of this man, realized the significance of its publication, and, acting well within his rights, he asked the court to withhold the Potentate's name. The Potentate then be came "Mr. A" throughout the proceedings of the case. It developed during the trial that Captain Arthur, the aide-de-camp, was a party to the plot, that he had sold his birthright for $200,000. Hobbs, the man who had handled the money, retained for his share another $200,000 for "professional services rendered." One Newton, who had impersonated Robinson in the bedroom scene because Mrs. Robinson had a very low opinion of her hus band's physical beauty, also received $200,000. A Mrs. Bevan who "decoyed" the aide got $25,000 and the Robinsons received $125,000, which the male Robin son paid over to the female, and started divorce proceedings. It was at first represented that $125,000 was all that had been received; this sum was also divided among the six plotters. Sir John Simon, K. C, acting for the defense, suggested that $25,000 was Mrs. Robinson's share, inferring sarcastically that she was the most deserving. Lord Darling here interposed: "But do the deserving always get most money?" (laughter). Lord Halsbury, who conducted the case for the plaintiff, Robinson, was forced into a difficult position. As Lord Darling outlined in his summing up, Robinson was not a party to the plot, but, once the conspiracy had taken place, he claimed "all the benefits." Said the learned Judge: "I cannot conceive a tribunal of the King's Bench, above all, allowing him to come into court and claim a part of the proceeds of a theft."
But Lord Halsbury declared, during the argument about costs, that "Robinson is entitled to say he has been found innocent."
Retorted witty Darling, so often censored by his colleagues for his levity: "You are never found innocent, but not guilty. People use words so loosely. Since the fall we are none of us innocent."
Judgment was entered for the defendant (Midland Bank) with costs amounting to about $150,000.
The case was over, but the sequel had yet to be written. The case was such that the Public Prosecutor could not possibly wink his eye at it. Several arrests were made: Captain Arthur, who had fled to Paris (he fought extradition on the ground that the plot had taken place in Paris and that the British Courts had no jurisdiction over him) ; Hobbs, the solicitor, whose trial began; several others, unnamed. The Robinsons and Newton were put under police surveillance.
But at this point the Home Secretary bumped his nose, legally speaking, against a brick wall. It would be impossible in a case conducted by the Crown to conceal further the identity of "Mr. A." Lord Birkenhead, not without some pressure, was finally persuaded to sanction the publication of Sir Hari Singh's name.