CHAPTER XXIX
"Oyez, oyez, oyez! The Supreme Court of the State of New York County ofBrabant trial term is now in session all people having business withthis court may draw near and give their attention _and they shall beheard_."
The court crier delivered his morning oration in one breathlesssentence, the last five words of which only have ever been captured bymortal ears. The roll of the jury was called. The first witness stood onthe step of the witness-stand and swore by the everlasting God that thetestimony he would give in the trial of the People of the State of NewYork against the defendant would be the truth, the whole truth andnothing but the truth, and then he seated himself in the chair. Thetrial of Mrs. Balfame began.
It had taken three days to select a jury. If Rush was determined to keepout Germans, Mr. Gore, the district attorney, was equally reluctant toadmit to the box any man whom he suspected of being under commands fromhis wife to get on that jury and acquit Mrs. Balfame, if he had toimperil his immortal soul. He also harboured suspicions of feloniousactivities on the part of Mr. Sam Cummack and certain other patrioticcitizens less devoted to the cause of justice than to Elsinore. Inconsequence the questions were not only uncommonly searching, but boththe district attorney and the defendant's counsel exhausted theirperemptory challenges.
The talesmen that had crowded the courtroom beyond the railing were forthe most part farmers and tradesmen, but there were not a few "prominentresidents," including rooted Brabantites and busy commuters. The lastanswered without hesitation that they had followed the case closely fromthe first and formed an unalterable opinion; then, dismissed, rushed offand caught a late train for New York. Those of Mrs. Balfame's own classwould have been passed cheerfully by Mr. Rush, but in spite of theircareless avowals that they had been too busy to follow the case, or hadfound it impossible to reach any conclusion, they were peremptorilychallenged by the district attorney. They, too, went to New York, not onbusiness, and returned to their hearthstones as late as possible.
Finally a jury of almost excessively "plain men" were chosen after longand weary hours of wrangling. They were all married; their ages rangedfrom forty-five to fifty; not one looked as if he had an illusion leftin regard to the sex that had shared his burdens for a quarter of acentury, or, German or no German, he had any leniency in him for a womanwho had presumed to abbreviate the career of a man. But at least theywere real Americans, with reputations for straight dealing, and goodold-fashioned ideals of justice, irrespective of sex. Rush doubted ifany of them could be "fixed" by Mr. Cummack or the able politicianswhose services he had bespoken, although the sternest visages often hidunsuspected weak spots; but after all his best chance was with honestmen whose soft spots were of another sort.
So naive had been the eagerness of the German-American talesmen to geton the jury that Rush had had little difficulty in demonstrating theirunfitness for duty. These were too thrifty to go to New York and stoodin no fear of their wives, but they avoided the _gemuetlich_ resort ofOld Dutch until the trial was over.
Throughout this ordeal Mrs. Balfame sat immovable, impassive, her face awhite bas-relief against the heavy black crepe of her veil, which hunglike a black panel between her profile and the western light. Her chairwas at the foot of the long table which stood beneath the two tiers ofthe jury-box and was reserved for counsel, the district attorney, theassistants and clerks. Her calm grey eyes looked straight ahead,interested apparently in nothing but the empty witness-stand, on theright of the jury and the left of the judge. She knew that thereporters, and the few outsiders that had managed to crowd in with thetalesmen, scarcely took their eyes from her face, and that the staffartists were sketching her. All her complacency had fled before certainphases of this preliminary ordeal for which no one had thought toprepare her. The constant reiteration of that question of horridsignificance: "Have you any objection to capital punishment as practisedin this State?" struck at the roots of her courage, enhanced her prisonpallor; and that immovable battery of eyes, hostile, or coldlyobservant, critical, appraising, made her long to grind her teeth, torise in her chair and tell those men and women, insolent in theirfreedom, what she thought of their vulgar insensibility. But not fornothing had she schooled herself, and not for a moment did her nervesreally threaten revolt. She had taken her second sleeping powder on thenight preceding the opening of the trial, but on the third morning sheawakened with the momentary wish that she had preserved Dr. Anna'spoison, or could summon death in any form rather than go over to thatcourthouse and be tried for her life. For the first time she understoodthe full significance of her condition.
But Mrs. Battle, Mrs. Cummack and Mrs. Gifning, when they bustled in to"buck her up," congratulated her upon "not having a nerve in her body";and although she had felt she must surely faint at the end of theunderground tunnel between the jail and the rear of the courthouse, shehad walked into that room of dread import upstairs with her head erect,her eyes level, and her hands steady. She may have built a fool'sparadise for herself, assisted by her well-meaning friends, during thepast ten weeks, and dwelt in it smugly; but as it fell about her earsshe stood erect with a real courage that strengthened her soul for anyfurther shocks and surprises this terrible immediate future of hersmight hold.
On the first day, although she never glanced at a talesman, she hadlistened eagerly to every question, every answer, every challenge. Asthe third day wore on, she felt only weariness of mind, and gratitudethat she had a strong back. She was determined to sit erect and immobileif the trial lasted a month. And not only was her personal prideinvolved. Circumstances had delivered her to the public eye, thereforeshould it receive an indelible impression of a worthy representative ofthe middle-class American of the smaller town, so little unlike thewomen of the wealthier class, and capable of gracing any position towhich fate might call her--a type the United States of America alone hasbred; also of a woman whose courage and dignity had never been surpassedby any man brought to the bar of justice on the awful charge of murder.
She knew that this attitude, as well as her statuesque appearance, wouldantagonise the men reporters but enchant her loyal friends, the women.Her estimate was very shrewd. The poor sob sisters, squeezed in whereverthey could find a vacant chair, or even a half of one (all the tablesbeing reserved for the men), surrendered in a body to her cold beauty,her superb indifference, soul and pen. A unanimous verdict of guiltybrought in by that gum-chewing small-headed jury merely would petrifythese women's belief in her innocence. She was vicarious romance; forwomen that write too much have little time to live and no impulse tomurder any one in the world but the city editor.
On the morning of the fourth day, the space between the enclosure andthe walls of the courtroom was filled with spectators from all over thecounty, many of them personal friends of Mrs. Balfame; but New York Citywould not become vitally interested until the business of examining theminor witnesses was concluded. Behind and at the left of Mrs. Balfamewere the members of her intimate circle. Occasionally they whispered toher, and she smiled so sweetly and with such serene composure that eventhe men reporters admitted she looked younger and more feminine--andmore handsome--than on that day of the interview which had proved herundoing.
"But she did it all right," they assured one another. They must believein her guilt or suffer twinges in that highly civilised and possiblyartificial section of the brain tabulated as conscience. Their fixedtheory was that she had mixed the poison for Balfame and then, being ina highly nervous state, and apprehensive that he would capriciouslyrefuse to drink it, had snatched her pistol as she heard his voice inthe distance, dashed downstairs and out into the grove, and fired withher established accuracy.
She had had plenty of time between the crime and her arrest to pass thepistol to one of her friends, or even to slip out at night and drop itin the marsh.
As to the shot that had missed Balfame and entered the tree: it waseither by one of those coincidences more frequent in fact than infiction that another enemy of Balfame's had been
lurking in the grove,intent upon murder; or the bullet hole was older than they had inferred.The idea of a lover they scoffed at openly. And it was one of theestablished facts, as they reminded their sisters of the press, that theworst women in history had looked like angels, statues or babies; theyhad also possessed powerful sex magnetism, and this the handsomedefendant wholly lacked.
The theory of the women reporters was far simpler. She hadn't done itand that was the end of it.
The judge, a tall imposing man with inherited features and accumulatedflesh, very stately and remote in his flowing silk gown, lookedunspeakably bored for three days, but was visibly hopeful as he swept upto his seat on the rostrum on Thursday morning. As the justice forBrabant, Mr. Bascom, had not been on speaking terms with the deceased,and as his wife was one of the defendant's closest friends, an eminentSupreme Court justice from one of the large neighbouring cities had beenassigned to the case.
The reporters of the evening newspapers, were packed closely about along table parallel with the one just below the jury-box, and behindwere four or five smaller tables dedicated to the morning stars. A largenumber of favoured spectators had found seats within the railings, but apassage was kept open for the boys who came up at regular intervals toget copy from the "evening table" for the telegraph operator belowstairs.
Broderick's seat beneath the rostrum commanded both the witness-box andMrs. Balfame. He had used his influence to have Alys Crumley assigned tothe position of artist for the Woman's Page of the _News_, and she andSarah Austin shared a chair.
The trial began. Dr. Lequer established the fact of the death, describedthe course of the bullet, demonstrating that it had been fired by someone concealed in the grove. A surveyor followed and exhibited to thejury a map of the house and grounds. Three of the younger members of theCountry Club, Mr. John Bradshaw Battle, cashier of the Elsinore Bank;Mr. Lemuel Cummack, son of Elsinore's esteemed citizen, Mr. Sam Cummack;and Mr. Leonard Corfine, a commuter, had been subpoenaed after amatching of wits. Overawed by the solemnity of the oath, they gave acircumstantial account of the quarrel which had preceded the murder buta few hours--all, in spite of constant interruptions from thedefendant's counsel, conveying the impression, however unwillingly, thatMrs. Balfame had been livid with wrath and the man who had been herhusband insufferable. It was a master-stroke of the district attorneyto open his case with the damaging testimony of two members of the loyalElsinore families. As for Mr. Corfine, although born and brought upwithout the pale, he had been graciously received upon electing to buildhis nest in Elsinore and his young wife was one of Mrs. Balfame'smeekest admirers.
Mr. Broderick muttered, "H'm! H'm!" and Mr. Bruce squirmed round fromthe "evening table" and jerked his eyebrows at his senior. "Bad! Bad!"muttered Mr. Broderick's neighbour. "But watch her nerve. Can you beatit? She hasn't batted an eyelash."
Two former servants that had preceded Frieda in the Balfame menagetestified that the household consisted of three people only, the masterand mistress and the one in help. A gardener came three times a week inthe morning. No, none of the old spare rooms was now furnished, and theBalfames never had had visitors overnight.
The prosecution rested, and Mr. Rush approached the bar according tousage and asked that the case be dismissed. The judge ruled that itshould proceed; and immediately after the noon recess the first witnessfor the defence was called. This was Mr. Cummack, and he testifiedvigorously to the harmonious relations of the deceased and his amiablewife; that Mrs. Balfame--who was always pale--had treated the episodeout at the Club in the casual manner observed by all seasoned andintelligent wives, the conversation over the telephone in his houseproving that the domestic heavens were swept clean of storm-clouds; andthat the deceased had departed for his home quite happy and singing atthe top of his lungs. He had often remarked jocularly (his was a cheeryand jocular temperament) that he expected to die with his boots on,especially since he had taken to bawling Tipperary in the face ofAmerican Germany.
It is not to be imagined that Mr. Cummack was able to deliver himself ofthis valuable testimony without frequent and indignant interruptionsfrom the district attorney, whose "irrelevant, incompetent andimmaterial" rang through the courtroom like the chorus of a Gilbert andSullivan opera. Mr. Gore, a wasp of a man with snapping black eyes and arasping voice emitted through his higher nasal passages, succeeded inhaving much of this testimony stricken out, but not before the wily Mr.Rush, who stood on tiptoe, as alert and nervous as a race horse at thegrandstand, had by his adroit swift questions fairly flung it into thejury-box. It was of the utmost importance with an obstinate provincialjury to establish at once a favourable general impression of theprisoner.
When, in the theatre, a trial scene is depicted, it is necessary tointerpose dramatic episodes, but no one misses these adventitiousincidents in a real trial for murder, so dramatic is the bare fact thata human being is battling for his life. When the prisoner at the bar isa woman reasonably young and good looking, the interest is so intenseand complete that the sudden intrusion of one of the incidents whichhave become the staples of the theatre, such as the real culprit rushinginto the courtroom and confessing himself, a suicide in the witness-box,or dramatic conduct on the part of the defendant, would be resented bythe spectators, as an anti-climax. Real drama is too logical and grimlyprogressive to tolerate the extrinsic.
The three other men who had been at Mr. Cummack's house that night werecalled, and corroborated his story. They all wore an expression ofgentle amusement as if the bare idea of the stately and elegant Mrs.Balfame descending to play even a passive role in a domestic row was asunthinkable as that any woman could find aught in David Balfame to rouseher to ire.
"By Jove!" whispered Mr. Broderick to Mr. Wagstaff of the _MorningFlag_, "just figure to yourself what the line would be if she had beencaught red-handed and was putting up a defence of temporary insanitycaused by the well-known proclivities of that beast. A good subject fora cartoon would be Dave Balfame in heaven with a tin halo on,whitewashing Mrs. B., weeds and all. The human mind is nothing but asewer."
The afternoon session was also enlivened by the testimony of several ofthe ladies who had been members of the bridge party on the day of Mr.Balfame's unseemly conduct at the Club. They testified that althoughMrs. Balfame naturally dissolved upon her return to the card-room, therehad been nothing whatever in her demeanour to suggest seething passion.Mrs. Battle, who was an imposing figure in the witness chair, hergreater bulk being above the waist, tossed her head and asseverated withrefined emphasis that Mrs. Balfame was one of those rare and exquisitebeings that are temperamentally incapable of passion of any sort. Herimmediate return to her home was prompted more by delicacy than even bypain. Miss Crumley's pencil faltered as she listened. She could notgive a jeering public even a faithful outline of a woman as devoted tothe sacred cause of friendship and Elsinore as Mrs. Battle.
The testimony of none of these ladies was more emphatic than that ofMrs. Bascom, wife of the supplanted justice, and she added unexpectedlythat she had been so upset herself that she too had left the clubhouseimmediately, and, her swift car passing Dr. Anna Steuer's littlerunabout, she had seen Mrs. Balfame chatting pleasantly and without atrace of recent emotion.
Mrs. Balfame almost relaxed the set curves of her mouth at thissurprising statement. She recalled that a car had passed and that shehad wondered at the time if any one had noticed her extreme agitation.She kept her muscles in order, but unconsciously her eyes followed Mrs.Bascom, as she left the witness-chair, with an expression of puzzledgratitude.
The District Attorney turned to the reporters with a short sardoniclaugh, and Mr. Broderick shook his head as he murmured to Mr. Wagstaff:
"Can you beat that? And yet they say women don't stand by one another."
"Good for the whole game, I guess," replied the young _Flag_ star, whowas enamoured of a very pretty suffragette.
The Judge rose, and the afternoon session was over. The great case ofThe People vs. Mrs. Balfame rested unt
il the following morning.
Mrs. Balfame: A Novel Page 29