CHAPTER XVI.
Standing before Leon Gerome's tragic picture, and listening to thesepulchral echo that floats down the arcade of centuries. "Ave,Imperator, morituri te salutant," nineteenth century womanhood frowns,and deplores the brutal depravity which alone explains the presence ofthat white-veiled vestal band, whose snowy arms are thrust in signalover the parapet of the bloody arena; yet fair daughters of the latestcivilization show unblushing flower faces among the heaving mass of the"great unwashed" who crowd our court-rooms--and listen to revoltingdetails more repugnant to genuine modesty, than the mangled remains inthe Colosseum. The rosy thumbs of Roman vestals were potent ballots inthe Eternal City, and possibly were thrown only in the scale of mercy;but having no voice in verdicts, to what conservative motive may beascribed the presence of women at criminal trials? Are the children ofCulture, the heiresses of "all the ages", really more refined than theproud old dames of the era of Spartacus?
Is the spectacle of mere physical torture, in gladiatorial combats, orin the bloody precincts of plaza de toros, as grossly demoralizing asthe loathsome minutiae of heinous crimes upon which legal oratorsdilate; and which Argus reporters, with magnifying lenses at every eye,reproduce for countless newspapers, that serve as wings fortransporting moral dynamite to hearthstones and nurseries all over ourland? Is there a distinction, without a difference, between policegazettes and the journalistic press?
If extremes meet, and the march of human progress be along no asymtoticline, is the day very distant when we shall welcome the Renaissance ofthat wisdom which two thousand years ago held its august tribunal inthe solemn hours of night, when darkness hid from the Judges everythingsave well-authenticated facts? The supreme aim of civil and criminallaw being the conservation of national and individual purity, to whatshall we attribute the paradox presented in its administration, wherebyits temples become lairs of libel, their moral atmosphere defiled bythe monstrous vivisection of parental character by children, theslaughter of family reputation, the exhaustive analysis of everyspecies of sin forbidden by the Decalogue, and floods of vulgarvituperation dreadful as the Apocalyptic vials? Can this generation
"--in the foremost files of time--"
afford to believe that a grim significance lurks in the desuetude oftypical judicial ermine?
Traditions of ante bellum custom proclaimed that "good society" in thetown of X--, formerly considered the precincts of courts as unfit forladies as the fetid air of morgues, or the surgical instruments ondissecting tables; but the vanguard of cosmopolitan freedom andprogress had pitched tents in the old-fashioned place, and recruitedrapidly from the ranks of the invaded; hence it came to pass, that onthe second day of the murder trial, when the preliminaries of juryempanelling had been completed, and all were ready to launch the case,X--announced its social emancipation from ancient canons of decorum, bythe unwonted spectacle of benches crowded with "ladies", whose silkengarments were crushed against the coarser fabrics of proletariat.Despite the piercing cold of a morning late in February, the mass ofhuman furnaces had raised the temperature to a degree that encouragedthe fluttering of fans, and necessitated the order that no additionalspectators should be admitted.
Viewed through the leaden haze of fearful anticipation, the horror ofthe impending trial had seemed unendurable to the proud and sensitivegirl, whom the Sheriff placed on a seat fronting the sea of curiousfaces, the battery of scrutinizing eyes turned on her from thejury-box. Four months of dread had unnerved her, yet now when the cruelactuality seized her in its iron grasp, that superb strength which theinevitable lends to conscious innocence, so steeled and fortified her,that she felt lifted to some lonely height, where numbness eased heraching wounds.
Pallid and motionless, she sat like a statue, save for the slow strokesof her right hand upon the red gold of her mother's ring; and the soundof a man's voice reading a formula, seemed to echo from an immeasurabledistance. She had consented to, had deliberately accepted the worstpossible fate, and realized the isolation of her lot; but for one thingshe was not prepared, and its unexpectedness threatened to shiver hercalmness. Two women made their way toward her: Dyce and Sister Serena.The former sat down in the rear of the prisoner, the latter stood for afew seconds, and her thin delicate hand fell upon the girl's shoulder.At sight of the sweet, placid countenance below the floating whitemuslin veil, Beryl's lips quivered into a sad smile; and as they shookhands she whispered:
"I believe even the gallows will not frighten you two from my side."
Sister Serena seated herself as close as possible, drew from her pocketa gray woollen stocking, and began to knit. For an instant Beryl's eyesclosed, to shut in the sudden gush of grateful tears; when she openedthem, Mr. Churchill had risen:
"May it please the Court, Gentlemen of the Jury: If fidelity to dutyinvolved no sacrifice of personal feeling, should we make it thetouchstone of human character, value it as the most precious jewel inthe crown of human virtues? I were less than a man, immeasurably lessthan a gentleman, were I capable of addressing you to-day, in obedienceto the behests of justice, and in fulfilment of the stern requirementsof my official position, without emotions of profound regret, thatimplacable Duty, to whom I have sworn allegiance, forces me to hush thepleading whispers of my pitying heart, to smother the tender instinctsof human sympathy, and to listen only to the solemn mandate of thoselaws, which alone can secure to our race the enjoyment of life, libertyand property. An extended professional career has hitherto furnished meno parallel for the peculiarly painful exigencies of this occasion; andan awful responsibility scourges me with scorpion lash to a mostunwelcome task. When man crosses swords with man on any arena, innatepride nerves his arm and kindles enthusiasm, but alas, for the man! behe worthy the name, who draws his blade and sees before him a young,helpless, beautiful woman, disarmed. Were it not a bailable offence inthe court of honor, if his arm fell palsied? Each of you who has amother, a wife, a lily browed daughter, put yourself in my place, lendme your sympathy; and at least applaud the loyalty that strangles allindividuality, and renders me bound thrall of official duty. Counselfor the defence has been repeatedly offered, nay, pressed upon theprisoner, but as often persistently rejected; hence the almostparalyzing repugnance with which I approach my theme.
"The Grand Jury of the county, at its last sitting, returned to thiscourt a bill of indictment, charging the prisoner at the bar with thewilful, deliberate and premeditated murder of Robert Luke Darrington,by striking him with a brass andiron. To this indictment she haspleaded 'Not Guilty,' and stands before her God and this community fortrial. Gentlemen of the jury, you represent this commonwealth, jealousof the inviolability of its laws, and by virtue of your oaths, you aresolemnly pledged to decide upon her guilt or innocence, in strictaccordance with the evidence that may be laid before you. In fulfillingthis sacred duty, you will, I feel assured, be governed exclusively bya stern regard to the demands of public justice. While it taxes ourreluctant credulity to believe that a crime so hideous could have beencommitted by a woman's hand, could have been perpetrated withoutprovocation, within the borders of our peaceful community,nevertheless, the evidence we shall adduce must inevitably force you tothe melancholy conclusion that the prisoner at the bar is guilty of theoffence, with which she stands charged. The indictment which you areabout to try, charges Beryl Brentano with the murder.
"In outlining the evidence which will be presented in support of thisindictment, I earnestly desire that you will give me your dispassionateand undivided attention; and I call God to witness, that disclaimingpersonal animosity and undue zeal for vengeance, I am sorrowfullyindicating as an officer of the law, a path of inquiry, that must leadyou to that goal where, before the altar of Truth, Justice swings herdivine scales, and bids Nemesis unsheathe her sword.
"On the afternoon of October the twenty-sixth, about three o'clock, astranger arrived in X--and inquired of the station agent what roadwould carry her to 'Elm Bluff', the home of General Darrington;assuring him she would return in
time to take the north-bound train at7.15, as urgent business necessitated her return. Demanding aninterview with Gen'l Darrington, she was admitted, incognito, andproclaimed herself his granddaughter, sent hither by a sick mother, toprocure a certain sum of money required for specified purposes. Thatthe interview was stormy, was characterized by fierce invective on herpart, and by bitter denunciation and recrimination on his, is too wellestablished to admit of question; and they parted implacable foes, asis attested by the fact that he drove her from his room through a rearand unfrequented door, opening into a flower garden, whence shewandered over the grounds until she found the gate. The vital import ofthis interview lies in the great stress Gen'l Darrington placed uponthe statement he iterated and reiterated; that he had disinherited hisdaughter, and drawn up a will bequeathing his entire estate to hisstep-son Prince.
"Miss Brentano did not leave X--at 7.15, though she had ample time todo so, after quitting 'Elm Bluff'. She loitered about the station houseuntil nearly half-past eight, then disappeared. At 10 P.M. she was seenand identified by a person who had met her at 'Elm Bluff', crouchingbehind a tree near the road that led to that ill-fated house, and whenquestioned regarding her presence there, gave unsatisfactory answers.At half-past two o'clock she was next seen hastening toward the stationoffice, along the line of the railroad, from the direction of the watertank, which is situated nearly a mile north of town. Meanwhile anunusually severe storm had been followed by a drenching rain, and thestranger's garments were wet, when, after a confused and contradictoryaccount of her movements, she boarded the 3.05 train bound north.
"During that night, certainly after ten o'clock, Gen'l Darrington wasmurdered. His vault was forced open, money was stolen, and mostsignificant of all, the WILL was abstracted. Criminal jurisprudenceholds that the absence of motive renders nugatory much weightytestimony. In this melancholy cause, could a more powerful motive beimagined than that which goaded the prisoner to dip her fair hands inher grandfather's blood, in order to possess and destroy that will,which stood as an everlasting barrier between her and the estate shecoveted?
"Crimes are referrible to two potent passions of the human soul;malice, engendering thirst for revenge, and the insatiable lust ofmoney. If that old man had died a natural death, leaving the will hehad signed, his property would have belonged to the adopted son, towhom he bequeathed it, and Mrs. Brentano and her daughter would haveremained paupers. Cut off by assassination, and with no record of hislast wishes in existence, the beloved son is bereft of his legacy, andBeryl Brentano and her mother inherit the blood-bought riches theycovet. When arrested, gold coins and jewels identified as thoseformerly deposited in Gen'l Darrington's vault, were found inpossession of the prisoner; and as if every emissary of fate were armedwith warrants for her detection, a handkerchief bearing her initials,and saturated with the chloroform which she had administered to hervictim, was taken from the pillow, where his honored gray head rested,when he slept his last sleep on earth. Further analysis would insultyour intelligence, and having very briefly laid before you the intendedline of testimony, I believe I have assigned a motive for thismonstrous crime, which must precipitate the vengeance of the law, in adegree commensurate with its enormity. Time, opportunity, motive, whenin full accord, constitute a fatal triad, and the suspicious andunexplainable conduct of the prisoner in various respects, furnishes,in connection with other circumstances of this case, the strongestpresumptive evidence of her guilt. These circumstances, far beyond therealm of human volition, smelted and shaped in the rolling mills ofdestiny, form the tramway along which already the car of doom thunders;and when they shall have been fully proved to you, by unassailabletestimony, no alternative remains but the verdict of guilty. Mournfulas is the duty, and awfully solemn the necessity that leaves the issueof life and death in your hands, remember, gentlemen, Curran's immortalwords: 'A juror's oath is the adamantine chain that binds the integrityof man to the throne of eternal justice'."
No trace of emotion was visible on the prisoner's face, except at theharsh mention of her mother's name; when a shudder was perceptible, asin one where dentist's steel pierces a sensitive nerve. In order toavoid the hundreds of eyes that stabbed her like merciless probes, herown had been raised and fixed upon a portion of the cornice in the roomwhere a family of spiders held busy camp; but a fascination songresisted, finally drew their gaze down to a seat near the bar, and sheencountered the steady, sorrowful regard of Mr. Dunbar.
Two months had elapsed since the Christmas morning on which she hadrejected his floral offering, and during that weary season of waiting,she had refused to see any visitors except Dyce and Sister Serena;resolutely denying admittance to Miss Gordon. She knew that he had beenabsent, had searched for some testimony in New York, and now meetinghis eyes, she saw a sudden change in their expression--a sparkle, asmile of encouragement, a declaration of success. He fancied heunderstood the shadow of dread that drifted over her face; and sherealized at that instant, that of all foes, she had most to apprehendfrom the man who she knew loved her with an unreasoning andineradicable fervor. How much had he discovered? She could defy thedistrict solicitor, the judge, the jury; but only one method ofsilencing the battery that was ambushed in those gleaming blue eyespresented itself. To extinguish his jealousy, by removing the figmentof a rival, might rob him of the motive that explained his persistentpursuit of the clue she had concealed; but it would simultaneouslydemolish, also, the barrier that stretched between Miss Gordon's happyheart and the bitter waves of a cruel disappointment. If assured thather own affection was unpledged, would the bare form and ceremonial ofhonor bind his allegiance to his betrothed? Absorbed in thesereflections, the prisoner became temporarily oblivious of theproceedings; and it was not until Sister Serena touched her arm, thatshe saw the vast throng was watching her, waiting for some reply. TheJudge repeated his question:
"Is it the desire of the prisoner to answer the presentation of theprosecution? Having refused professional defence, you now have theoption of addressing the Court."
"Let the prosecution proceed."
There was no quiver in her voice, as cold, sweet and distinct it foundits way to the extremity of the wide apartment; yet therein lurked nodefiance. She resumed her seat, and her eyes sank, until the long blackfringes veiled their depths. Unperceived, Judge Dent had found a seatbehind her, and leaning forward he whispered:
"Will you permit me to speak for you?"
"Thank you--no."
"But it cuts me to the heart to see you so forsaken, so helpless."
"God is my helper; He will not forsake me."
The first witness called and sworn was Doctor Ledyard, the physicianwho for many years had attended General Darrington; and who testifiedthat when summoned to examine the body of deceased, on the morning ofthe inquest, he had found it so rigid that at least eight hours musthave elapsed since life became extinct. Had discovered no blood stains,and only two contusions, one on the right temple, where a circularblack spot was conspicuous, and a bluish bruise over the region of theheart. He had visited deceased on the morning of previous day, and hethen appeared much better, and almost relieved of rheumatism and painsattributable to an old wound in the right knee. The skull had not beenfractured by the blow on the temple, but witness believed it had causeddeath; and the andiron, which he identified as the one found on thefloor close to the deceased, was so unusually massive, he was positivethat if hurled with any force, it would produce a fatal result.
Mr. Churchill: "Did you at that examination detect any traces ofchloroform?"
"There was an odor of chloroform very perceptible when we lifted thehair to examine the skull; and on searching the room, we found a vialwhich had contained chloroform, and was beside the pillow, where aportion had evidently leaked out."
"Could death have occurred in consequence of inhaling that chloroform?"
"If so, the deceased could never have risen, and would have been foundin his bed; moreover, the limbs were drawn up, and bent into a positiontotally in
consistent with any theory of death produced by anaesthetics;and the body was rigid as iron."
The foregoing testimony was confirmed by that of Doctor Cranmar, aresident physician, who had been summoned by the Coroner to assistDoctor Ledyard in the examination, reported formally at the inquest.
"Here, gentlemen of the jury, is the fatal weapon with which a woman'shand, supernaturally nerved in the struggle for gain, struck down,destroyed a venerable old man, an honored citizen, whose gray hairsshould have shielded him from the murderous assault of a mercenaryadventuress. Can she behold without a shudder, this tell-taleinstrument of her monstrous crime?"
High above his head, Mr. Churchill raised the old-fashioned andiron,and involuntarily Beryl glanced at the quaint brass figure, cast in theform of a unicorn, with a heavy ball surmounting the horn.
"Abednego Darrington!"
Sullen, crestfallen and woe-begone was the demeanor of the old negro,who had been brought vi et armis by a constable, from the seclusion ofa corner of the "Bend Plantation", where he had secreted himself, toavoid the shame of bearing testimony against his mistress' child. Whenplaced on the witness stand, he crossed his arms over his chest,planted his right foot firmly in advance, and fixed his eyes on theleather strings that tied his shoes.
After some unimportant preliminaries, the District Solicitor asked:
"When did you first see the prisoner, who now sits before you?"
"When she come to our house, the evening before ole Marster died."
"You admitted her to your Master's presence?"
"I never tuck no sech libberties. He tole me to let her in."
"You carried her to his room?"
"Yes, sir."
"About what time of the day was it?"
"Don't know."
"Gen'l Darrington always dined at three o'clock. Was it before or afterdinner?"
"After."
"How long was the prisoner in the General's room?"
"Don't know."
"Did she leave the house by the front door, or the side door?"
"Can't say. Didn't see her when she come out."
"About how long was she in the house?"
"I totes no watch, and I never had no luck guessing. I'm shore to landwrong."
"Was it one hour or two?"
"Mebbe more, mebbe less."
"Where were you during that visit?"
"Feedin' my game pullets in the backyard."
"Did you hear any part of the conversation between the prisoner andGen'l Darrington?"
"No, sir! I'm above the meanness of eavesdrapping."
"How did you learn that she was the granddaughter of Gen'l Darrington?"
"Miss Angerline, the white 'oman what mends and sews, come to the backpiazer, and beckoned me to run there. She said ther must be a 'high olefracas', them was her words, agoin' on in Marster's room, for he wascussin' and swearin', and his granddaughter was jawing back veryvicious. Sez I, 'Who'? Sez she, 'His granddaughter; that is Ellice'schile'. Sez I, 'How do you know so much'? Sez she, 'I was darning themliberry curtains, and I couldn't help hearing the wrangle'. Sez I, 'Youpicked a oncommon handy time to tackle them curtains; they must bemighty good to cure the ear-itch'. She axed me if I didn't see thefamily favor in the 'oman's face; and I tole her no, but I would seefor myself. Sez she, to me, 'No yow won't, for the Gen'l is in atearing rage, and he's done drove her out, and kicked and slammed thedoors. She's gone.'"
"Then you did not see her?"
"I went to the front piazer, and I seen her far down the lawn, butMarster rung his bell so savage, I had to run back to him."
"Did he tell you the prisoner was his granddaughter?"
"No, sir."
"Did you mention the fact to him?"
"I wouldn't 'a dared to meddle with his fambly bizness!"
"He appeared very angry and excited?"
"He 'peard to want some ole Conyyac what was in the sideboard, and Ibrung the bottle to him."
"Do you remember whether his vault in the wall was open, when youanswered the bell?"
"I didn't notice it."
"Where did you sleep that night?"
"On a pallet in the middle passage, nigh the star steps."
"Was that your usual custom?"
"No, sir. But the boy what had been sleepin' in the house while oleMarster was sick, had gone to set up with his daddy's corpse, and Ituck his place."
"Did you hear any unusual noise during the night?"
"Only the squalling of the pea-fowul what was oncommon oneasy, and thethunder that was ear-splitting. One clap was so tremenjous it raised meplum off'en the pallet, and jarred me to my backbone, as if a cannonhad gone off close by."
"Now, Bedney, state carefully all the circumstances under which youfound your master the next morning; and remember you are on your oath,to speak the truth, and all the truth."
"He was a early riser, and always wanted his shavin' water promp'. Whenhis bell didn't ring, I thought the storm had kep' him awake, and hewas having a mornin' nap, to make up for lost time. The clock hadstruck eight, and the cook said as how the steak and chops was as dryas a bone from waitin', and so I got the water and went to Marster'sdoor. It was shet tight, and I knocked easy. He never answered; so Iknocked louder; and thinkin' somethin' was shorely wrong, I opened thedoor--"
"Go on. What did you find?"
"Mars Alfred, sir, it's very harryfyin to my feelins."
"Go on. You are required to state all you saw, all you know."
Bedney drew back his right foot, advanced his left. Took out hishandkerchief, wiped his face and refolded his arms.
"My Marster was layin' on the rug before the fireplace, and his kneeswas all drawed up. His right arm, was stretched out, so--and his lefthand was all doubled up. I know'd he was dead, before I tetched him,for his face was set; and pinched and blue. I reckon I hollered, but Ican't say, for the next thing I knowed, the horsler and the cook, andMiss Angerline, and Dyce, my ole 'oman, and Gord knows who all, wasstreamin' in and out and screamin'."
"What was the condition of the room?"
"The front window was up, and the blinds was flung wide open, and acheer was upside clown close to it. The red vases what stood on thefire-place mantle was smashed on the carpet, and the handi'on was closeto Marster's right hand. The vault was open, and papers was strowedplentiful round on the floor under it. Then the neighburs and theDoctor, and the Crowner come runnin' in, and I sot down by the bed andcried like a chile. Pretty soon they turned us all out and hilt theinquess."
"You do not recollect any other circumstance?"
"The lamp on the table was burnin'--and ther' wan't much oil left init. I seen Miss Angerline blow it out, after the Doctor come."
"Who found the chloroform vial?"
"Don't know."
"Did you hear any name mentioned as that of the murderer?"
"Miss Angerline tole the Crowner, that ef the will was missin', Gen'lDarrington's granddaughter had stole it. They two, with some othergentleman, sarched the vault, and Miss Angerline said everything washiggledy piggledy and no will there."
"You testified before the Coroner?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why did you not give him the handkerchief you found?"
"I didn't have it then."
"When and where did you get it? Be very careful now."
For the first time Bedney raised his eyes toward the place where Dycesat near the prisoner, and he hesitated. He took some tobacco from hisvest pocket, stowed it away in the hollow of his cheek, and re-crossedhis arms.
"When Marster was dressed, and they carried him out to thedrawing-room, Dyce was standin' cryin' by the fireplace, and I went tothe bed, and put my hand under the bolster, where Marster always kep'his watch and his pistol. The watch was ther' but no pistol; and justsorter stuffed under the pillow case--was, a hank'cher. I tuk the watchstraight to the gentlemen in the drawin'-room, and they come back andsarched for the pistol, and we foun' it layin' in its case in the tabledraw'. Of all the
nights in his life, ole Marster had forgot to lay hispistol handy."
"Never mind about the pistol. What became of the handkerchief?"
"When I picked it up, an injun-rubber stopper rolled out, and as ther'wan't no value in a hank'cher, I saw no harm in keepin' it--for a'mentoof ole Marster's death."
"You knew it was a lady's handkerchief."
"No, sir! I didn't know it then; and what's more, I don't know it now."
"Is not this the identical handkerchief you found?"
"Cant say. 'Dentical is a ticklish trap for a pusson on oath. It dolook like it, to be shore; but two seed in a okrey pod is ezactlyalike, and one is one, and t'other is t'other."
"Look at it. To the best of your knowledge and belief it is theidentical handkerchief you found on Gen'l Darrington's pillow?"
"What I found had red specks sewed in the border, and this seems jestlike it; but I don't sware to no dentical--'cause I means to bekereful; and I will stand to the aidge of my oath; but--MarsAlfred--don't shove me over it."
"Can't you read?"
"No, sir; I never hankered after book-larnin' tomfoolery, and otherfreedom frauds."
"You know your A B C's?"
"No more 'n a blind mule."
As the solicitor took from the table in front of the jury box, theembroidered square of cambric, and held it up by two corners, every eyein the court-room fastened upon it; and a deadly faintness seized theprisoner, whitening lips that hitherto had kept their scarlet outlines.
"Gentlemen of the jury, if the murdered man could stand before you, forone instant only, his frozen finger would point to the fatal letterswhich destiny seems to have left as a bloody brand. Here in indeliblecolors are wrought 'B. B.'!--Beryl Brentano. Do you wonder, gentlemen,that when this overwhelming evidence of her guilt came into mypossession, compassion for a beautiful woman was strangled by supremehorror, in the contemplation of the depravity of a female monster? Ifthese crimson letters were gaping wounds, could their bloody lips moresolemnly accuse yonder blanched, shuddering, conscience-stricken womanof the sickening crime of murdering her aged, infirm grandfather, fromwhose veins she drew the red tide that now curdles at her heart?"
At the Mercy of Tiberius Page 16
