CHAPTER XI
THE TRIAL CONCLUDED
When I took my seat again the next day and looked about me upon a scenenow become familiar, I entertained little hope of the result of theday's proceedings. I knew better than others how meagre was the evidenceof the defence and I could not see how the unsupported testimony of theprisoner, even if he were physically capable of giving it coherently,could have much weight; and yet I knew that that was all Littell had tooffer. But even I, as I was yet to learn, failed to appreciate thesplendid abilities and resources of that man.
When court was opened there was a longer delay than usual over thatperiod of busy idleness that usually precedes the moment of getting downto work, and during this time it was plain from the remarks audible onall sides that every one was awaiting with expectancy the openingstatement of Littell, for in it was looked for a key to the line ofdefence.
Whether Littell felt he could argue the whole case to better advantageat a later stage, or whether he thought it wiser to leave unsatisfied tothe latest moment the intense curiosity and interest he knew he hadaroused, I do not know; but whatever his reason may have been, whensignalled by the Judge, he rose only to say that he had no preliminarystatement to make, but would leave it to the prisoner to tell his ownstory, and therein all the defence knew of the case, to the jury withoutpreface. He added that they would find it a straightforward, crediblestatement which he believed would carry conviction; that it had beentold to him voluntarily, and he was willing the Court and jury shouldhear it in the same way.
He then called the prisoner to the stand, and I was gratified to see bythe inquiring look he directed to Littell as soon as he had taken hisplace in the witness-box that Winters was fully conscious of what wasdemanded of him and prepared to meet it.
Littell met his glance encouragingly, and in response asked him torelate all he knew concerning the death of White, and to tell of his ownwhereabouts and doings about the time of the occurrence.
"Address the jury!" the lawyer concluded, and Winters obediently facedhis judges and during all his testimony addressed his words directly tothem.
He spoke in a low voice, but very distinctly, each word being audible,and his manner was quiet and entirely free from anything suggestingdefiance or cunning.
It is not necessary that I should again repeat his story. It was givenjust as he had told it to me and subsequently to Littell and as I havealready related it, and it seemed to me on this occasion, as on theprevious ones, to bear the stamp of truth.
It made an impression, as I could perceive, upon the jury also, butwhether any of them believed it or not, I could not tell. The greaterpart of them I feared were saying to themselves "This man is clever"rather than "This man is innocent."
During the entire recital, Littell kept his attention fixed on the jury,his keen gaze studying each countenance and trying to read there theimpression made, but neither by sign nor word did he interrupt orendeavor to lead the witness. Evidently he was playing his best card,and, alas! his only one.
There was a few moments interval after the conclusion of Winters'sdirect evidence while the prosecution consulted together before theDistrict Attorney began his cross-examination, and during that timeWinters sat listlessly in his chair, seemingly indifferent to hissurroundings. I think his long siege of trouble and sickness must havemore or less stupefied him or have made him callous, perhaps desperate.Whatever the cause, his mental attitude was probably the best possibleone under the circumstances as it made it unlikely he would becomeeither nervous or excited.
The cross-examination proved a long and searching one, enough to tax thenerve of any ordinary man, but except for some signs of physicalweakness, Winters remained perfectly composed, nor could the lawyerstrip him up in any particular. He reiterated his story, piece by piece,in response to their questions, deviating in no particular from hisfirst statement, while in new matters broached by them he was apparentlyentirely candid.
He admitted the bad feeling he felt towards his cousin and charged it tothe unfair provisions of his father's will. He confirmed Benton'stestimony that he frequently demanded money of his cousin.
He denied any knowledge of the contents of White's will and also deniedthat he had ever corresponded in any way with White, or that there wasany secret between them. This last was in reply to questions by whichthe State's officers endeavored unsuccessfully to connect him with theletter found by Miles, as also with the conversation related by BelleStanton.
In no particular could they break down his testimony. They did, however,show by his own admissions, that he was an idler and a drunkard, and aman of bad reputation and associates, but his answers were so freelygiven that these facts lost some of their damaging effect. Altogether,he must have made about as favorable an impression as a man in hisposition could, but I could see no reason to hope that it had done morefor him than possibly to excite the interest and in some degree thesympathy of the jury.
When it came to Littell's turn to re-examine, he left his seat and,going over to the prisoner, took him by the arm and raised him to hisfeet.
"Winters," he said, "I believe you have told all you know of the case,but before you leave the stand, I have one more question to ask you. Iwant you to tell this jury, and tell them upon the solemn oath you havetaken, had you any hand in your cousin's death or any knowledge of it?"
Winters looked at him and then at the jury before he spoke and thenanswered firmly:
"I had not."
"That is all," Littell said, and the witness returned to his place.
There was a period of expectation,--everyone was waiting for something,you could feel it in the air,--till after awhile Littell, apparently inresponse to the silent question, leaned forward with a littleexpression of surprise and said in the most even tones:
"That is all, your Honor, I have no further testimony to offer."
The effect of this announcement was immediate; the air of expectationwas banished and astonishment took its place; people exchanged glancesof surprise--almost consternation: "Was this all there was to be to thedefence; why! there was no defence." You could almost read the words inthe expressions of those about you, but Littell seemed undisturbed andafter a moment's hesitation the Judge announced an hour's recess withthe expectation that the case would be concluded at a late session.
It had been a long morning, for the proceedings had been late inbeginning and the testimony of Winters had occupied several hours, andmost of those within the rail, that is, those who were assured ofregaining admission to the scene, hastened away upon the announcement tomake the most of the opportunity for rest and refreshment. Not so withthe spectators, however; there was scarcely a movement in that compactmass; for any of them to go was to resign their places to others--andthe sacrifice was too great.
I looked toward Littell in the hope that he would join me at lunch, buthis head was bent over some papers and if he was conscious of my glancehe gave no sign, and so I went out alone.
When I returned he was still in the same attitude and I doubted if hehad left his seat. One by one the others dropped in and resumed theirplaces until, when the recess had expired and the session was resumed,all was in readiness to proceed.
There was some delay, however, while the State's officers engaged inearnest consultation, till the attention of the Judge being attractedthereby, he looked up and peering inquiringly over his glasses in theirdirection said: "Well, gentlemen, are we ready?" At this the juniorarose and asked permission to recall the defendant. General surprise wasmanifest at this request, and Littell offered prompt objection to itsconcession. In a few words he called attention to the fact that therehad been no such re-direct examination of the defendant as to affordoccasion for re-cross, and further insisted that as the witness had beenpermitted to leave the stand he could not be recalled; and he addedpointedly that the prisoner was too exhausted to stand the strain offurther examination--which fact his brother lawyers knew and wereseeking to turn to their advantage. When, at the conclus
ion of thesewords, the District Attorney arose with severe mien to reply himself inplace of his junior, I knew there was coming the usual indignant protestof injured innocence, and I listened with indifference to its eloquentvindication and then to the argument that followed. It was the firsttilt of the trial between counsel and as usual proved a source ofentertainment to the spectators, but to me it was weariness. Still, Igave attention while the lawyer told why he wished to recall the witnessand why he should be allowed to do so, and argued that he had never saidhe was through with the witness and had never closed his case--throughall of which the junior nodded approval, and Littell looked bored andoccasionally interrupted, and the Judge remained expressionless--and soit went on and meanwhile the daylight faded in the room and the gas waslighted and the atmosphere, already oppressive, became almost stiflingin its heat, and the crowd moved restlessly and men yawned, and Ilistened and listened in dull consciousness till, feeling satisfied thatin the end the Court would rule for the defence, I slipped quietly fromthe room. Littell's summing up could alone affect the final result now,and in the meanwhile the quiet and the cool air of the corridor werewelcome.
As I paced up and down smoking a cigar and weighing in my mind thechances of the trial, I would occasionally get a momentary glimpse intothe court-room as the door would swing open to permit the exit of someother weary spectator like myself, and in the hot glare of the gaslightsthe scene within would be visible through the doorway like a picturewithin a frame, the court with all its surrounding functionaries, thefigure of the speaker gesticulating as he addressed the Judge, the formof the prisoner bowed and still between his guards, and in theforeground the dense throng of spectators, all in vivid relief.
I can close my eyes and recall that picture even to this hour, but neverwithout a feeling of overwhelming melancholy; so strong are theimpressions some things leave upon us.
After a while there was a stir within and some one said that the Courthad sustained the objection of the defence and declined to permit therecall of the defendant, and that Littell was about to begin his finalargument, and so I hurried back. He was already on his feet in thecentre of the room and facing the jury. He had neither books normemoranda by him and evidently relied upon his memory for all he meantto say.
His voice was deep and serious when he began to speak:
"I have been practising my profession, as your Honor knows, for fortyyears and this is the first as it is the last time that I appear beforea criminal tribunal; only a sense of imperative duty as a lawyer and asa man has brought me here to-day; could I with a clear conscience haveescaped this solemn duty, I would have done so, but a call higher thanhas ever appealed to me before has summoned me to the side of a man whois being wronged, and therefore it is I am here.
"I am without the resources of my brother lawyers accustomed to practisein this court and I have, therefore, no facts to submit, except thosepresented by the witnesses for the State, and no evidence to offer,except that of the prisoner himself.
"I believe the evidence of the State's witnesses to be substantiallytrue and therefore have made no effort to cast doubt upon it, and Ibelieve the testimony of the prisoner to be true, and, therefore, I relyupon it."
Then in a more conversational tone he addressed himself to the jury.
"The unusual feature of this case," he said, "is that while thetestimony of the State would seem to make out the guilt of the prisoner,his own story makes out his innocence, and yet both are uncontradictedand are consistent with each other. I wish you to keep this in mind,because, if it be as I say and the story of the prisoner be notincredible, you cannot convict him; you must remember it is not the dutyof the defence to prove the innocence of the accused, but that of theprosecution to establish his guilt.
"It is going to be my effort now to demonstrate to you the truth of whatI have said by an analysis of the evidence, and then I am going to dowhat is more than is demanded of me as counsel for the defendant,--I amgoing to try and point out to you not only the possibility of its havingbeen some one else than the accused who committed this deed, but whothat some one was."
Then he took up the evidence piece by piece and analyzed it. Everydoubt, every possibility in the case, which he and I had so oftendiscussed together, was developed and presented to the jury in itsstrongest phase, till there appeared to be left no possible theory ofthe crime that could make consistent all the facts.
The State's case seemed torn to shreds, and its evidence, which but afew moments before had seemed plain as day in its application, was nowfull of unsolvable mystery. I waited breathlessly to see where hiswonderful logic and eloquence would finally lead him and us, while thejury hung in spellbound attention on his every word. Then, when he hadeach one helplessly at sea looking eagerly to him for some explanationthat would fit the case and solve its doubts, he turned abruptly to thedock and pointing to the prisoner, said:
"Forget that man; he did not do it! You must start afresh in this caseif you are to find the murderer!
"I may not tell you who he is; that is not my duty; but I will tell youwhat sort of a man he is, and why and how he did this deed.
"It is all so plain that he who runs may read.
"It was a man in White's own station in life, a man who knew him andknew his ways, his haunts, his very nature.
"A man who was implicated with him in some wrong-doing and feared forhis own safety while the weaker vessel shared the dangerous secret withhim.
"A man of pride whose reputation was dear to him; a man of resource anddetermination; one who did not know fear or hesitation.
"That man, whoever he may be,--and such a one only killed White,--wasthe man for whom that half-written letter full of reproach and threatswas meant, and it was such threats as those that drove him on to histerrible deed.
"He came there that night after I and the others had left; he cameprobably to expostulate, or to plead, but he found the victim in asleep, heavy from drink, and the weapon was at hand and it was theeasier and the shorter and the sure way, and he killed him.
"Then he put on the cap and ulster to disguise himself and he stuffedthe money that was on the table in the pocket to mislead simple peopleand as he hurried away from the scene one bill dropped in the vestibule,where Winters, as he said, found it.
"The ulster and the other bills he left at the house of Belle Stanton,the place most likely again to confound the simple-minded, because theplace where White was most apt to go at all hours.
"Now that I have told how and why the crime was done, let the police goand find their man and bring him to you, and not ask you to make goodtheir shortcomings by convicting this innocent prisoner.
"Acquit him! Let him go free! He is only his own enemy! No such weaklingever did that deed! He is incapable of it! I tell you he is innocent! Iknow it!"
His voice, which had been growing more and more impassioned till eachnote vibrated through the room, suddenly ceased and absolute stillnessfollowed, till the voice of the Judge was heard addressing him in a lowtone.
"Mr. Littell," he was saying, "I cannot allow you to give your ownopinions to the jury; it is contrary to the practice; you must confineyourself to the evidence."
Littell stood erect, listening to the remonstrating words, and when theywere concluded, replied gravely:
"I have undertaken the defence of this man, your Honor, and theobligation it carries with it is above the rules of practice. Thatprisoner is innocent and I have only told this jury so, as was my duty.I have no more to say"; and he turned away and resumed his seat, butnot till the last echo of his words had ceased did a man move in thecourt-room. All eyes remained fixed on the lawyer--unable to break thespell he had put upon them. That a change had come over the feelings ofall there, could be felt.
How much conviction he had carried to the Judge and jury, or how much ofonly wonder and uncertainty it was that I saw written in their faces, Icould not tell, but all signs of listless indifference were gone, and intheir place was tense feeling. I felt as tho
ugh the wonderful insight ofthis man had worked a revelation. I had expected a great argument, butthis word-picture of the nameless criminal and his crime was dreadful inits realism.
When the District Attorney rose to begin his closing argument, he actedlike a man confounded by an unexpected proposition, and groped aboutamid legal generalities till he felt his way. Then he causticallyreferred to his opponent's closing sentences as a brilliant bit of fancyfitting for a place in a stage setting, but with no proper place amongthe real things of life, and he admonished the jury to put it asidefrom their consideration till they should have dealt with the seriousfacts before them.
Then he proceeded to a review of the case and again arrayed in order allthe damaging facts of the evidence, which seemed to fix the crime onWinters. Throughout he received the close attention of the jury, butthat he was entirely successful in eradicating the effect of Littell'sspeech seemed very doubtful.
After he had finished, the Judge charged the jury. His review of theevidence was fair and impartial, but it necessarily told against theprisoner, to whose testimony he would only allow its proper balance ofweight.
He hesitated before he referred to Littell's argument as if doubtfuljust how to treat it, but at length said that the theories of thecounsel could be considered only in so far as the evidence bore themout.
He might have said more, but he, too, I thought, was unable to overcomeentirely the effect the speech had had upon him.
He then directed that the jury retire to decide upon their verdict, andannounced to the lawyers his intention of waiting till twelve o'clockfor their decision, in case they should reach an agreement by that time.
When the Judge retired, most of the spectators and witnesses left thecourt-room, but the lawyers and reporters gathered about the trial tableas is their custom--in interested discussion of the case. Littell,however, sat aside to himself with his head resting on his hand in adeep study. Several endeavored to congratulate him, but he only shookhis head and turned away.
"I fear it has been of no avail," he said to me. He was evidentlythinking of the prisoner and not of himself. I refrained from anycomment, but was doubtful of the State's chances of securing a verdict,and there were many opinions expressed to the same effect. The verypersons who during the recess had taken conviction as a foregoneconclusion were now not only doubtful of the verdict, but in someinstances, I thought, even doubtful of the prisoner's guilt. No strongerevidence of Littell's masterful conduct of the case would have beenneeded even had the general opinion on the subject not been outspoken,but through it all Littell sat by indifferent.
Time passed and when the hour of twelve came around, the Judge returnedto the bench and all was decorum again.
A bailiff was sent to inquire if the jury had agreed.
It was but a matter of form, for all knew that had they done so, theywould have reported it voluntarily; but still each man kept his placeand waited with nervous expectation, while the court sat to receive thereply. In a few minutes the messenger returned and reported that therewas no present prospect of an agreement that night, whereupon the courtadjourned until ten in the morning.
A Master Hand: The Story of a Crime Page 11