CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH.
THE VERDICT--THE HUSBAND AND WIFE--ARREST OF AWTRY.
It was some time before the police could restore order and quiet theexcitement. At length complete silence was restored, and Harrycontinued:
"Such," he continued, "is the tale of this unfortunate woman, and theposition in which she found herself placed should excite, a feeling ofsympathy, and not induce you to punish her for an act which may bedeplored but cannot be condemned. That she took the money isundeniable, but why did she take it? I have told you it was to saveher child's life, and though that class of philosophers and ultramoralists who believe that there are no causes sufficient to justifyher act, may declare her guilty of theft, let the promptings of yourown hearts decide whether her position did not excuse, if it does notrender her conduct undeserving of condemnation by a jury. But inclaiming from you a verdict in favor of my client, I must takeoccasion to say, that your acquittal will not restore this lady tothat position she formerly occupied, or remove from her mind theimpress left there by an act which necessity, and necessity alone,caused her to perform. It will not restore to her the innocent childnow lying mouldering in the grave, it will not reunite the brokenlinks of affection, it will not ease the agony of the soldier when hediscovers that his wife was the inmate of a prison, nor will itreplace on its former firm base the mind of this unfortunate lady,which, like the pillars of some ancient edifice, totters beneath aweight of agonizing thought, soon, alas! I fear, to fall, a mass ofruin, in the vortex of insanity. The patriot soldier must return tofind his daughter dead, his wife a maniac, and his only remainingchild a dependent on the bounty of strangers. But one thing remains;he must turn from the spectacle thus presented and return to thebattle-field a heart-broken and unhappy man. The spirit with which heformerly contended for the liberty of his country will have vanishedand fled, for the remembrance of his family's fate must ever remainuppermost in his mind, and the reflections they will produce mustleave a blighting scar, which no future kindness can remove, sympathyeradicate, or consolation destroy. I am done. On your good judgmentand the strength of my assertions, which can be proven, if necessary,I rely for the acquittal of this lady."
As he concluded, the building shook with applause from the crowd, andMr. Swartz and Mr. Elder trembled for their safety. Harry felt thatthe acquittal of Mrs. Wentworth was now secure, for the jury itself,sharing the popular feeling, gave expressions of approbation in manyremarks. If the language of Harry had been simple, it had carriedconviction to every soul, and all present, as they looked upon theaccused, felt that her offense was fully atoned for by the chain ofharrowing circumstances with which she had been bound.
And for her--the soldier's wife? She had remained a passive spectatorof all that occurred. When the voice of her defender first broke onher ear, she turned and looked at him for a moment, then, as ifindifferent whether his defense was successful or not, she turned herhead away and listlessly gazed at the crowd. She cared not now forfreedom and acquittal; she felt that the chords of reason were on thepoint of breaking, and but one thought, one desire, filled her mind,before they broke and madness held sway over her. It was to see thatloved form, to gaze once more on those loved features, to be claspedonce again in her HUSBAND'S arms. This was the sole thought,the only desire. All "fond records," all recollection of past years,all hope for future happiness, were obliterated, and nothing remainedbefore her mind's eye but the soldier who had parted from her in NewOrleans. Even the memory of her dead and of her living child hadvanished, and if they were for a while brought to her mind, it wasonly in connection with the single desire which kept the chains ofsanity united. The lineaments of every soldier in the crowd wereclosely and eagerly scanned, but there were none there who bore theslightest resemblance to him for whom she yearned. But still shepeered into the assemblage, regardless of the efforts being made inher behalf, and it was not until the interruption narrated in the lastchapter took place, that she manifested any interest in theproceedings of the court, and then it was merely by a gesture ofsurprise at the uproar. When Harry concluded and sat down, she againevinced astonishment, but not a syllable escaped from her lips.
After a few minutes the shouts of the crowd subsided, and at therequest of the judge, silence was restored. His honor then addressedthe jury.
"Gentlemen of the jury," he began, "the case before your notice hasbecome, from one of apparent insignificance, one of intense interestand importance. A merchant of this city, well known to you all, bothby his wealth and his long residence in your midst, appears beforethis court and accuses a woman of theft. She is arrested and everyevidence of her guilt is found on her person; she does not deny theact, and is accordingly brought before you to be tried and sentenced,or acquitted, as you may, in your good judgment think best."
"Overwhelming evidence is brought against her to-day, and no doubt ofher having committed the theft exists. There appears little more foryou to do than to find her guilty, and for me to pass the sentence.But before doing these, it is necessary that the accused shall have adefense. She is questioned, but informs the court she has nothing tosay. At this stage of the proceedings, a gentleman well known to youas a rising lawyer of this place before the war commenced, and betterknown since then as a gallant and meritorious officer, appears as herdefendant. You have heard his defense. The act of taking the money isnot denied, but in his defense he claims that it was committed throughdire necessity. It is true that a defense of this nature is a somewhatextraordinary one, and is new in the annals of criminal law. Still hehas given you a tale of hardships and privations which he claimsoccurred in this city, and which, coming from any other source, maywell be doubted. It is left for you to decide whether his claim for anacquittal shall be granted or not. In my remarks I do not intend tobias you one way or the other. What my opinions are will be givenafter your decision is announced. To you I look for that decision."
"If your honor will permit me," said Dr. Mallard, rising, "I will makea few remarks before the jury retires. The tale told by Lieut.Shackleford is correct so far as I know of it. I was called upon toattend on the sick girl mentioned in the defense, and found her in anold cabin, almost at the point of death. At the time it did not strikeme as singular that a white family should be found living in such ahovel, but the tale I have just heard narrated has made me reproachmyself for my blindness in not discovering that the unfortunate familywere of greater respectability than can be found in the residents oflog cabins. Impressed, therefore, with a firm belief in thetruthfulness of the tale I have heard, I shall act accordingly."
With these remarks he resumed his seat, and in a few minutes the juryretired to decide on their verdict. Mr. Elder followed reluctantly,but had made up his mind to give consent to anything the majorityshould decide on. He was already apprehensive for his personal safetyand was anxious to be at home again.
After a short absence the jury returned and announced they had decidedon a verdict.
"What is that verdict, gentlemen?" inquired the judge. "Do you findthis lady guilty or not guilty?"
"Taking all the circumstances into consideration," replied theforeman, "we find the prisoner NOT GUILTY of the charge."
For a moment the building shook to the very foundation, from theprolonged cheers of the spectators. It was not rejoicing at the escapefrom punishment of the guilty, that they applauded, but it was throughheartfelt exultation at the acquittal of an unfortunate woman. It wasthe spontaneous outburst of Southern hearts, bleeding with sympathyfor the oppressed and poverty-stricken soldier's wife, and swellingwith indignation at the brutal and unfeeling conduct of Mr. Elder andMr. Swartz.
Harry's eye moistened as he heard the shouts of applause, and afeeling of grateful emotion swept over him. He felt no gratificationat his success in gaining her acquittal which did not spring from theloftiest and most disinterested motives. He rejoiced on account ofMrs. Wentworth and her child and the gallant soldier he had so proudlycalled his friend. He rejoiced to know that the fair fame of the
soldier's wife stood untarnished, and that he could restore her to thearms of her husband, not as the inmate of a penitentiary, but as theacquitted accused, who had committed the act she was accused of, butwas still considered by all who had heard of the case, free fromcrime, and pure and unstained as before the blighting handy of penuryand suffering were stretched across her sorrow-beaten path.
"Madam," said the judge, when the cheering had ceased, "you have heardthe verdict of the jury, acquitting you of the charge made against youby Mr. Swartz, although in your defense, it is acknowledged you didtake the money, and the jury is cognizant of the fact. While youracquittal, in face of the evidence given, and your own acknowledgmentas well as the acknowledgment of your counsel, may be somewhatdeviating from the letter of the law, it is nevertheless in strictaccordance with its spirit, and with pleasure I inform you that beingacquitted you are no longer held a prisoner, but are free to go whereyou will. But before you leave, let me make a few remarks on thiscase, which in my judgment are called for by the circumstances, andwhich may appear again, in consequence of many parties being similarlysituated. Although the jury has acquitted you, such acquittal must notbe considered a license for others to go and do likewise. Where yourcase is one of necessity, another of a like nature may be causedthrough dishonesty. Your act is not applauded by thinking minds, nordid the jury intend to convey the impression that in acquitting youthey considered you had performed a very meritorious act. To thecontrary, they deplore the performance of a deed which cannot bethought of but with regret; at the same time they took intoconsideration the deplorable position into which you were placed, anddeclare you innocent of _theft_.
"Before closing my remarks," he continued, "I would call the attentionof those present, as well as the people in general, to this case. Likethis unfortunate lady, many refugees are sojourning in our midst. Theyshould be received with welcome by those who are fortunate enough tolive in peace and quiet in their happy homes. But such, I fear, is notalways the case. Many respectable families who had been accustomed toall that wealth could afford, are now living, if not in absolutenecessity, in very poor circumstances, and could have their positionmaterially improved if the people of this State would offer them thatassistance they need. It is not an act of charity to lend a helpinghand to the refugee. We are bound together by a sympathy formed on thebattle-field by the gallant men of every State now struggling side byside for our independence, and it is a matter of duty that the wivesand children of the soldier shall not suffer during his absence. It isa sordid spirit that refuses to aid a helpless woman because shehappens to be a refugee. This Confederacy is a home for all its sonsand daughters, and when they abandon their native State, and, fleeingfrom a brutal enemy, come into our midst for safety and protection, weshould welcome them as suffering patriots and cherish, them as theydeserve. It is a hard struggle for a woman to abandon a home,surrounded by all the luxuries of life and in which happiness reignsdominant, to incur hardships and privations. In doing so herpatriotism is severely tested, and nothing but the most exalteddevotion to our country triumphs over her fears.
"There is yet another subject I will speak on. The two men who havefigured so conspicuously in this case as the cause of this lady'ssufferings, cannot be allowed to pass unnoticed. Mr. Elder is a wellknown gentleman of this city and has hitherto borne an irreproachablecharacter. Did he not stand silent when accused of inhuman conducttowards this lady, I should hesitate to believe him guilty of such anatrocity. But as his silence is indicative of guilt, the horriblenature of his act comes before us with great force, and we shudder tothink that any one wearing the form of humanity could so far debasethe mind as to turn a helpless woman and dying child from a shelterbecause she had not the means of paying her debt. In so doing, Mr.Elder has displayed the spirit of the extortioner, and must feel allthe stings of conscience which haunt the mind of a murderer, shouldhis heart be not too much hardened already. He has acted a worse partthan a murderer, for the assassin kills his victim through revenge, orat the worst, for pay. Here, Mr. Elder--a possessor of wealth and notneeding the money--turns a tenant from his roof because she ispenniless. I say nothing against him for doing so, for it was anindisputable right of his, but when we view the brutality of theact--when we think of the hardness of the heart that could notcommiserate with the situation of Mrs. Wentworth--that was deaf to theappeals of a mother--blind to the illness of her child--the soulsickens with horror at the knowledge that a mortal so debased--soutterly devoid of the instincts of humanity which govern abrute--should exist on the earth. But the mask of religion is now tornfrom his face, and we see his own lineaments. Henceforth the scorn ofall generous, minds will he receive, and turned from the respectableposition he once held, must reflect on the inevitable exposure of thehypocrite some day, sooner or later. I shall leave him to the scornand indignation of all good men. From them he will receive thatpunishment which his brutality, caused from his extorting spirit,deserves.
"And for Mr. Swartz, the accuser of this lady, I can see but little inextenuation of his conduct. If his business is even illegitimate,there are so many speculators in the South that it should not causesurprise that his refusal to aid this woman necessitated her takinghis money. The speculator cannot be expected to have a heart tenderenough to perform a charitable act. The man who will speculate on thenecessities of the people, is not likely to feed the hungry. It is tootrue that many good men have been drawn into the vortex ofspeculation, but these are few in number and are isolated cases.
"Mr. Swartz has been among us long enough to imbibe the spirit andsentiments of our people, but from his action towards this lady, hedoes not seem to have profited by their example. A foreigner by birth,he has cast a stigma on his nation, for, with all their faults, I donot believe there is a more charitable people than the German. I havefound it so, in many years of familiar intercourse with them. But hislast act is the one deserving unqualified condemnation. To tear amother from the bedside of her dead child--to incarcerate her in aprison, while the hands of strangers were performing the last sadrites over the dead, is an act that Christianity could never believe,were the evidence not before us, too forcible for denial, too truthfulfor contradiction. It is an act that calls for withering rebuke, butwe dismiss him with the belief that on the coming of that inevitable_Hereafter_, he will receive the punishment he so well merits.
"My remarks are now concluded, and the prisoner is discharged fromcustody."
There was deep silence for several minutes, during which Harry lookedanxiously in the crowd for his friend; but Alfred was nowhere to beseen. Mrs. Wentworth retained her passive look of indifference, andtook no further notice of the curious crowd, which gazed upon her withhearts full of pity and commiseration. Once or twice she slowly raisedher hand and pressed her forehead with it, as if it ached. But shespoke no word of complaint, nor did she give any other indication ofsuffering.
Harry was about to remove her from the court, when there was a bustlein the crowd, and the voice of Alfred was heard calling on thosearound him to give way. He was followed by Awtry, perfectlyunconscious of the cause of his companions agitation.
"Make room there, for God's sake," asked Alfred, pressing through thedense mass of men and women. "Follow me," he continued, speaking toAwtry.
The men nearest to him, perceiving his excitement, generally surmisedthe truth, and a low murmur ran through the room that it was theprisoner's husband, and a passage was quickly made to where Mrs.Wentworth was sitting.
Awtry heard the words, "it is her husband," and turned back with theintention of leaving, but his arm was quickly seized by Alfred, who,still concealing his intention, simply said, "Come on; I will find apassage for us." He hesitated an instant, but, believing hisappearance sufficiently disguised to prevent Mrs. Wentworth fromrecognizing him, he determined to risk proceeding, in the hope ofescaping discovery.
At last Alfred was by the side of his wife--the soldier had met her heloved for the first time in nearly two years. Silently and sadly hega
zed at her changed appearance, and the briny tears slowly trickleddown the soldier's cheeks as he noted her sunken features. At last hespoke.
"Eva!" he said, in a voice that trembled with emotion, "my wife! mydarling wife! do you not know me?"
His voice, full of love, sounded in her ear like the sweetest musicever played by the angels of God. At the sound of her name she turnedround and looked anxiously in his face--a moment more, and he hadscarcely finished speaking, before she had thrown herself in his arms.
"Alfred! my husband!" she murmured, as she pillowed her head in hisbosom, "at last--at last!"
"Oh, Heavenly Father!" exclaimed Alfred, raising her head and gazingfondly at the wan and emaciated features of his wife "_is this_ all Ifind?"
His words were those of anguish, wrung out from a tortured heart. Itwas not so he expected to meet his wife.
"Rise, darling," he continued, "rise, and let us leave this place--letus go where friends are." She rose up, and leaning on his arm, movedoff, when he suddenly confronted Awtry, who had stood with anxious andpalpitating heart for the closing of the scene. "Stay awhile,dearest," Alfred went on, as soon as he perceived Awtry, "Look at thisman--do you know him?"
Mrs. Wentworth looked at him for some time, but failed to recognizeAwtry. "I do not know him," she said, shaking her head.
"This is very strange conduct on your part, Mr. Wentworth," said Awtry,believing himself safe.
"Ha!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, "it is his voice. It is Awtry--therehe is--I know him now," and she fainted in her husband's arms.
"Seize that man!" thundered Harry, who was standing near Alfred, "heis a spy."
In an instant, Awtry was secured and hurried of to prison. Mrs.Wentworth was conducted by Harry and her husband to Dr. Humphries',where we leave them for awhile.
The Trials of the Soldier's Wife Page 28