A charge against Robert Ferguson that, on December 27, at Dunedin, he did unlawfully assault Elizabeth Jane Powell, was adjourned on the application of the accused, bail being allowed — accused in his own recognisance of £25 and one surety of £25. The Bench warned the accused not to go near the complainant after his liberation on bail, or he would be arrested forthwith. He asked to get his clothes, which he said were at the complainant's house, and the police were instructed to get them and take them to the police station. -Otago Daily Times, 31/12/1913.
FIGHTING FURGUSON FINED.
All Over the Lure of a Lady
The Clerky Clevy Champions the Charmer.
(From "Truth's" Dunedin Rep.) On Monday last, before Mr. J..R. Bartholomew, S.M., at the City Police Court, Robert Ferguson filled the dock, charged with assaulting Eliza J. Powell, a fashionable, nervous lady. The offence, alleged, took place on December 27, within the holy precincts of Hanover-street. Accused pleaded not guilty, and was represented by Lawyer Scurr.
John Clevy, marine store keeper, said he was m Hanover-street on December 27, and saw accused about and also the lady in the case. It was about 10 p.m. at the time. He saw Ferguson strike Mrs. Powell in the face, and run away.
Lawyer Scurr: Were you in an attitude to protect yourself? — Yes.
Didn't you expect to be assaulted? — Nothing of the kind.
Is it not a fact that Mrs. Powell ran in between you and Ferguson, and got the blow instead? — It is not.
Did you strike Ferguson any time previous? — No, I did not; he did a feint and pretended I did.
What had you in your hand on that occasion? — I was doing my books, and had a ruler.
Where was Mrs. Powell then? — In my kitchen.
Did she ever go there before? — Yes.
To Inspector: I was doing my books when I heard an urgent knocking at my door, and Mrs. Powell asked to be admitted as a man was chasing her. I let her in, and soon after I heard a loud knocking at my door. I grasped my ruler and called the dog, and went outside. I saw Ferguson who said "Mrs. Powell is in there, and she has my clothes." He came to my gate and Mrs. Powell came out. He suddenly gave me a push, and made for Mrs. Powell. I struck him lightly on the finger and he fainted in the right of way. Mrs. Powell was afraid to go for the police.
Mrs Powell, fashionably attired and heavily veiled, said she was living apart from her husband.
Inspector: Have you been living with the accused? — (Indignantly) No, I have not.
Inspector: Well, tell us your story then.
"On the night of December 27," murmured the lady, "I was in Hanover-street, and got tapped on the face. I saw Ferguson and Clevy. I am really nervous, and very much afraid of men, and I cannot say who did it. I'm not here to tell lies and I'll tell lies for no one. I just got tapped on the face, and the claret came. When I recovered I did not see Ferguson. As I am naturally a very nervous person, I went into Mr Clevy's.
Lawyer Scurr: So you were tapped, Mrs. Powell? — Well, I got a crack that night.
Do you think Ferguson struck you? — He's not in his right mind — he'll end his days in the asylum.
You're not frightened of him in particular? Oh!, I am so nervous!
Were Clevy and Ferguson quarrelsome? — Yes, I imagined they were going to fight.
Did you not step in between Clevy and Ferguson, and receive the blow intended for Clevy? — I can't really say. I might have done so.
Cop. Kelly took a big oath that he saw her charming ladyship with strange mourning hues about her optic, and that 'twas he arrested the fearful Ferguson.
Lawyer Scur intimated that Clevy and Ferguson were wrangling over the little porous cabbage heart of dainty Eliza Powell, and the sweet lady, with unusual female heroism, received the very deliberate smack intended for the industrious clerky Clevy.
The accused, Robert Ferguson, said he was living apart from his wife, and knew Mrs. Powell.
Lawyer Scurr: You have been living with Mrs. Powell? — Oh, no; I just go there — occasionally!
On December 27 you and Clevy had some words? — Yes; I wanted to know why he struck me with the ruler. I struck at him, but Mrs. Powell got the blow instead.
To Inspector Fouhy: The woman left me to go to Clevy. The ruler he had in his hand was a very polite one, indeed. I might have had rows with her, and struck her sometimes om occasions. She attacked me once in the street as I was with my wife and pulled the hat off my head.
The S.M. was of the opinion that accused was not the least particular whom he struck. In view, however, of previous assaults he would be fined £2. -NZ Truth, 10/1/1914.
FAMOUS FIGHTING FERGUSON
A Lamentable Laggard.
Tell-tale Letters.
"Rummy Liz!"
(From "Truth's" Dunedin Rep.) Robert Nelson Munro Ferguson (known as "Fighting Fergy" so far as weak women are concerned), once more figured in some deplorable disclosures his wife was forced to make for her own future safety and .maintenance, last Friday in the Magistrate's Court before Mr. J. R. Bartholomew, S.M. "Fergy" is well known in Dunedin, and, for the matter of that, much further afield. His wife's evidence was singularly damning, and equally so were her extraordinary correspondence, in which, to a menacing degree, by the way, this pleasant family paper figured. Having regard to Fergy's doings and his bulky prominence in the limelight, and also to the fact that he served in the "foorce," it may be in a manner traceable to the latter that the energetic police leave him quietly alone. Magistrate Bartholomew's decision, however, must have an automatic effect in the right direction.
Lawyer Hanlon represented the badly-treated and neglected "Fighting Fergus'" better half, and extracted, in his usual successful manner, a very pitiable tale. Acting on his own wise discretion, Mr. Ferguson did not defend. Principally, Lawyer Hanlon and "Truth" were the obstacles to his appearance in Court.
Mrs. Ferguson stated that, herself and Fergy had been married for 14 years, and four kiddies, coupled with separations, characterised their connubial lot. The first trouble started in the first year, and ever since the cause of the rows and mutual separations was Robert's
PARTIALITY FOR OTHER WOMEN. He certainly had a great leg with the ladies. She nearly died once as the result of a kick he gave her in the abdomen, and, for a time, she was in a critical state, as she bled internally. Again, under compulsion, and with an open razor in his hand, he forced her to write a letter to a particular female named Eliza Powell, charging her with certain illegal doings. Fergy always nick-named Eliza as "Rummy Liz!" Witness wrote the letter in dread of her life. "Rummy Liz" receiving it, utilising Lawyer Scurr legally in the matter later on. Complainant was charged with scandal, but "Rummy" did not go on. On one occasion he and witness were walking down the street past Begg's music shop, when they plumped into "Rummy." The latter gave evidence of her mild jealousy and astonishing love by belaboring Mr. Ferguson with the silver mounted knob of her brolly. Fergy took the smashing on his polished Sunday hat, which came out of the melee with numerously gaping gashes. Gesticulating, a la France, and utilising a comprehensive Bashi-Bazook articulation, Robert Nelson Munro Ferguson retaliated. So reverberating were Eliza's exertions, and so grating were Fergy's figures of speech that a pair of bagpipes in Begg's windows seemed inclined to stand up on their drones. During week ends, Mr. Ferguson would inform witness that he'd be going down Broad Bay way, when, in reality, he was visiting "Rummy." On another occasion she visited the cemetery to do up her deceased brother's grave, when whom should she meet but her frollicksome Fergy, who was doing the Christian duty of attending a funeral. He spotted his Eunice and a shindy resulted. He reared and
DANCED LIKE A LUNATIC, cast filthy language after her, and even pelted her with stones. She had her kiddies with her, and it was with difficulty she escaped. Several times she forgave him but 'twas all no use. He would stick to his wasteful ways, women, and woeful words, and even persecute her at the match factory, where she was doing her best to eke out a living for her children and herself. She would never have raked him up in Court had he not driven her to it. It was the only way to make him work and cease annoying her. Fergy was a big, hulking, lazy bloke, always well-dressed and groomed, and never without a compact bingey and well-filled pipe. He was a familiar sight on Dunedin's streets, but having been in the "foorce," the police were not over attentive. The Ferguson family, Fergy's relatives, were a respectable lot. Witness finally declared that her Robert would at times
WEEP LIKE A WATERFALL, and be as amorous as a Don Juan. The ways of the wicked are weird.
Lawyer Hanlon produced the following astounding letters in Court, which are out on their own as luminous items: Mrs. Ferguson, — I have to thank you for the damned dirty way you have left. I am heartbroken, and could never forgive you for being so low and cunning with one who has worked hard. I will come and hound you out of Clyde. I will make it hot for you as I don't care now. I would be better dead than drove to this worry over your dirty dispassion. You should be ashamed of breaking up your home and spoiling the children's schooling, you lunatic. Don't dare to send any of the Blackies to remove the furniture for if I catch them I will murder the b......s! — I remain, yours for ever, BOB FERGUSON.
There was a marked climb down and outburst of feeling and love when Fergy became aware that a separation and maintenance case was pending against him. The two letters below are beauts:
Dear Wife, — I am very sorry you have taken the proceedings you have. You mean to do your utmost to scandal me, but if you intend to go on with the case I must protect myself against your bitterness and I will have to tell the Court all about you. I am quite willing to go away and leavve you in peace, and send you what I can spare. I would give a lot to be with you. There is no woman on earth would part us if you can make up your mind and stop the scandal. You don't want to see your name in "Truth," so
BE A GOOD GIRL and don't do anything foolish. You have been a good wife to me and the children and I hope you will forgive me. I am brokenhearted to think you could expose yourself to the public. It would please old Liz to see your name in "Truth," but I hope and trust you will withdraw and respect yourself. I am finished with her for ever and would be true and kind to you from this onward as I know you think plenty of me in your heart. I would sooner lose my life than you lose your character.
"Rummy Liz's" troubles are hinted at in the following, and the "foorce's" interest in fighting Fergy: — Dear Wife, — I feel sorry to see you show so much fear of me. I would give the world to be with you again, and for God's sake love, pity me, as I respect you, and would lay down my life for you. Dear wife, I am worrying myself to death over you. I have had nothing to eat for two days, and nothing to get it with. I am just heartbroken and in a serious plight over the worry and having nothing to eat. Thank God you left a bed for me to try and sleep on. Think it over and don't be led away by others. "Rummy Liz" will be at the Court on Friday. Her husband has summoned her to appear to get the order cancelled against him; so for Heaven's sake don't show yourself up in front of her. Constable Kelly told me. I am shattered between hunger and worry, so for God's sake forgive me. You would not see me without food or shelter. With fondest love from your affectionate husband, — I remain, yours sincerely, BOB FERGUSON.
Lawyer Hanlon: This man is a big, fat, hulking fellow who could work well anywhere. He thanks God for having a bed to lie on, when he
SEIZED HIS WIFE'S HOUSE, drove her from it, and is located there in comfortable idleness now. These letters are evidence of what the man is, and there are others all of which I put in. Your Worship will have no difficulty in granting the orders applied for, as Mrs. Ferguson's fourteen years of married life have been a tortuous existence
The S.M. (promptly): Separation, maintenance and guardianship orders applied for are granted. Defendant will have to pay 15/- a week for the maintenance of his children, and costs two guineas. -NZ Truth, 12/9/1914.
DUNEDIN DOINGS.
(From "Truth's" Dunedin Rep.)
POWELL'S PREDICAMENT.
"Rummy Liz" and her Relatives
"You Dirty Dog!"
There was laughter loud and long in Magistrate Batholomew's Court last Friday.
Robert Powell had been divorced from his spouse, Mrs. Eliza Powell, but a maintenance order of £2 7/6 nevertheless existed against him for the support of his three olive branches, left in the guardianship of Eliza. Robert sought a reduction of the order, alleging that Eliza spent most of his contributions on one Bob Ferguson. Bob, who had been rudely squelched in the same Court by his missus, for various dark doings, as already reported in "Truth," was the very same Bob who had grandiloquently christened Powell's better half "Rummy Liz" in several literary effusions he had laboriously penned. Just such a genteel monniker had been applied to good, pious Mrs. Powell, was one of the aspects of the case upon which Mr. Powell relied to leave his divorced half minus the brass.
Lawyer Hanlon represented Liz., who stood beaming on the Court after the manner of a veiled La Milo. Now and then as Robert's evidence touched a vulnerable spot, Liz flared up with extraordinary suddenness, but Mr. Hanlon's capacious mouth and paternal gestures softened the situation, much to the relief of Robert and the Bench.
Mrs. Ferguson said that her cast-off worst half, "fighting Bob" had persistently associated with Liz, and that they had lived together as spoony-coonies in Jones-street and elsewhere in defiance of parsons and police. She stated it had been going merrily on for six moons, till Fergy got ejected, much to her own surprise. Fergy was now on his own bat, hugging the hot-water bottle for sympathy.
Mrs. Walquist, a relation on the wrong side to Powell, said that the latter never attended to his children. On the other hand, Liz was a grand mother, the ideal kind in fact. She spent any amount of brass on the kiddies and never saw them in rags. Indeed, Liz was a pure, guid hearted crater.
Powell: May I ask how many men you have lived with? — How dare you, you dirty dog! I kept you, your children and your wife, when you could not keep yourself! — You beaut. Decency is stamped on my car-akter everywhere and I...I...
The S.M.: Stop, please. Control yourself, Mrs. and what relation are you to Powell?
Witness: I am Mrs. Powell's mother.
Powell: — That's my mother-in-law.
The next witness proved a very fiery item, in the person of Mrs. Chammon. After duly extolling the many virtues, public and private, of Liz, this selfcontained witness was suddenly aroused to just indignation by Bob Powell's stereotyped query.
Powell: What's your name, ma'am? — My name — oh!
You know you've gone through the mill with three men and that Chammon's not your lawful name. — I can —
Virtuous Mrs. Chammon hammered the witness-box energetically and emitted curiously hissing sounds from her verbal aperture, which flapped ominously after the manner of certain classes of the finny brood. "Oh, Powell, You — You — You — " The lady did not completely eject the blessing, but executing an upper-cut with a really gloved hand, she did not hit the querist, but bashed the railing of the witness-box. Powell's eyes clinked, as the smack was an obviously near thing. He intimated to the Bench that no reliance could be placed upon her evidence, having regard to the peculiar changes of name he alleged she indulged in, periodically.
The S.M. said all such was irrelevant.
Powell, on his own behalf, said he was only earning 25/- a week, and, owing to the long run of the maintenance order, he had no money for himself. He was continually in gaol, and when out, was always being chased by the police. It was common knowledge, he alleged, that Fergy had been living with his wife, Liz Powell. Ferguson actually wrote a letter to Lawyer Hanlon admitting that he had lived with her for six months. Complainant merely sought a reduction of the order in these trying times, intimating that Liz spent the money wrongly.
Lawyer Hanlon admitted that Fergy did write a letter, but that no one would believe Fergy. No doubt the lawyer, was correct.
After mature consideration the S.M. reduced the order, to £1 a week. -NZ Truth, 26/9/1914.
After this, "Fighting Bob" recedes from the public record. As can be seen below, his gravestone describes him as "beloved husband of Eunice" - Eunice does not share his grave.
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