Friedrich Schiller, Translated by Rev. A. J. W. Morrison, M.A. - "The History of the Thirty Years' War"

Marietta Holley - "Samantha at Saratoga"

Homer Eon Flint - "The Devolutionist and The Emancipatrix"

Henry Van Dyke - "The White Bees"

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The Trial

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> The Trial




Mr. Rankin's medical evidence came next, both as to the cause of
death, the probable instrument, and the nature of the stains on the
desk and rifle.

When cross-examined, he declared that he had looked at the volunteer
uniform without finding any mark of blood, but from the nature of the
injury it was not likely that there would be any. He had attended
Mr. Axworthy for several years, and had been visiting him
professionally during a fit of the gout in the last fortnight of
June, when he had observed that the prisoner was very attentive to
his uncle. Mr. Axworthy was always unwilling to be waited on, but
was unusually tolerant of this nephew's exertions on his behalf, and
had seemed of late to place much reliance on him.

Doctor Richard May was the next witness called. The sound of that
name caused the first visible change in the prisoner's demeanour, if
that could be called change, which was only a slight relaxation of
the firm closing of the lips, and one sparkle of the dark eyes, ere
they were again bent down as before, though not without a quiver of
the lids.

Dr. May had brought tone, look, and manner to the grave impartiality
which even the most sensitive man is drilled into assuming in public;
but he durst not cast one glance in the direction of the prisoner.

In answer to the counsel for the prosecution, he stated that he was
at the Vintry Mill at seven o'clock on the morning of the 6th of
July, not professionally, but as taking interest in the Ward family.
He had seen the body of the deceased, and considered death to have
been occasioned by fracture of the skull, from a blow with a blunt
heavy instrument. The superintendent had shown him a rifle, which he
considered, from the marks on it, as well as from the appearance of
the body, to have produced the injury. The rifle was the one shown
to him; it was the property of Leonard Ward. He recognized it by the
crest and cipher H. E. It had belonged to his son-in-law, Hector
Ernescliffe, by whom it had been given to Leonard Ward.

Poor Doctor! That was a cruel piece of evidence; and his son and
daughters opposite wondered how he could utter it in that steady
matter-of-fact way; but they knew him to be sustained by hopes of the
cross-examination; and he soon had the opportunity of declaring that
he had known Leonard Ward from infancy, without being aware of any
imputation against him; but had always seen him highly principled and
trustworthy, truthful and honourable, kind-hearted and humane--the
last person to injure the infirm or aged.

Perhaps the good Doctor, less afraid of the sound of his own voice,
and not so much in awe as some of the other witnesses, here in his
eagerness overstepped the bounds of prudence. His words indeed
brought a tremulous flicker of grateful emotion over the prisoner's
face; but by carrying the inquiry into the region of character and
opinion, he opened the door to a dangerous re-examination by the
Crown lawyer, who required the exact meaning of his unqualified
commendation, especially in the matter of humanity, demanding whether
he had never known of any act of violence on the prisoner's part.
The colour flushed suddenly into Leonard's face, though he moved
neither eye nor lip; but his counsel appealed to the judge, and the
pursuit of this branch of the subject was quashed as irrelevant; but
the Doctor went down in very low spirits, feeling that his evidence
had been damaging, and his hopes of any ray of light becoming
fainter.

After this, the village policeman repeated the former statements, as
to the state of the various rooms, the desk, locked and untouched,
the rifle, boat, &c., further explaining that the distance from the
mill to Blewer Station, by the road was an hour and half's walk, by
the fields, not more than half an hour's.

The station-master proved the prisoner's arrival at midnight, his
demand of a day-ticket, his being without luggage, and in a black
suit; and the London policeman proved the finding of the money on his
person, and repeated his own explanation of it.

The money was all in sovereigns, except one five and one ten-pound
note, and Edward Hazlitt, the clerk of the Whitford Bank, was called
to prove the having given the latter in change to Mr. Axworthy for a
fifty-pound cheque, on the 10th of May last.

This same clerk had been at the volunteer drill on the evening of the
5th of July, had there seen the prisoner, had parted with him at
dusk, towards nine o'clock, making an engagement with him to meet on
Blewer Heath for some private practice at seven o'clock on Monday
evening. Thought Mr. Axworthy did sometimes employ young Ward on his
commissions; Mr. Axworthy had once sent him into Whitford to pay in a
large sum, and another time with an order to be cashed. The dates of
these transactions were shown in the books; and Hazlitt added, on
further interrogation, that Samuel Axworthy could not have been aware
of the sum being sent to the bank, since he had shortly after come
and desired to see the account, which had been laid before him as
confidential manager, when he had shown surprise and annoyance at the
recent deposit, asking through whom it had been made. Not ten days
subsequently, an order for nearly the entire amount had been cashed,
signed by the deceased, but filled up in Samuel's handwriting.

This had taken place in April; and another witness, a baker, proved
the having paid the five-pound note to old Mr. Axworthy himself on
the 2nd of May.

Samuel Axworthy himself was next called. His florid face wore
something of the puffed, stupefied look it had had at the inquest,
but his words were ready, and always to the point. He identified the
bag in which the money had been found, giving an account of it
similar to Hardy's, and adding that he had last seen it lying by his
cousin's desk. His uncle had no account with any London bank, all
transactions had of late passed through his own hands, and he had
never known the prisoner employed in any business of importance--he
could not have been kept in ignorance of it if it had previously been
the case. The deceased had a black shagreen pocket-book, with a
silver clasp, which he occasionally used, but the witness had never
known him give it out of his own hand, nor take a receipt in it. Had
not seen it on the morning of the 6th, nor subsequently. Could not
account for the sum found on the person of the prisoner, whose salary
was £50 per annum, and who had no private resources, except the
interest of £2000, which, he being a minor, was not in his own hands.
Deceased was fond of amassing sovereigns, and would often keep them
for a longtime in the drawer of his desk, as much as from £50 to
£100. There was none there when the desk was opened on the 6th of
July, though there had certainly been gold there two days previously.
It was kept locked. It had a small Bramah key, which his uncle wore
on his watch-chain, in his waistcoat pocket. The drawer was locked
when he saw it on the morning of the 6th.

The Doctor, who had joined his children, gave a deep respiration, and
relaxed the clenching of his hand, as this witness went down.

Then it came to the turn of Aubrey Spencer May. The long waiting,
after his nerves had been wound up, had been a severe ordeal, and his
delicacy of constitution and home breeding had rendered him
peculiarly susceptible. With his resemblance to his father in form
and expression, it was like seeing the Doctor denuded of that shell
of endurance with which he had contrived to conceal his feelings.
The boy was indeed braced to resolution, bat the resolution was
equally visible with the agitation in the awe-stricken brow, varying
colour, tightened breath, and involuntary shiver, as he took the
oath. Again Leonard looked up with one of his clear bright glances,
and perhaps a shade of anxiety; but Aubrey, for his own comfort, was
too short-sighted for meeting of eyes from that distance.

Seeing his agitation, and reckoning on his evidence, the counsel gave
him time, by minutely asking if his double Christian name were
correctly given, his age, and if he were not the son of Dr. May.

'You were the prisoner's school-fellow, I believe?'

'No,' faltered Aubrey.

'But you live near him?'

'We are friends,' said Aubrey, with sudden firmness and precision;
and from the utterance of that emphatic _are_, his spirit returned.

'Did you often see him?'

'On most Sundays, after church.'

'Did you ever hear him say he had any thoughts of the means of
leaving the mill privately?'

'Something like it,' said Aubrey, turning very red.

'Can you tell me the words?'

'He said if things went on, that I was not to be surprised if I heard
non est inventus,' said Aubrey, speaking as if rapidity would conceal
the meaning of the words, but taken aback by being made to repeat and
translate them to the jury.

'And did he mention any way of escaping?'

'He said the window and cedar-tree were made for it, and that he
often went out that way to bathe,' said Aubrey.

'When did this conversation take place?'

'On Sunday, the 22nd of June,' said Aubrey, in despair, as the Crown
lawyer thanked him, and sat down.

He felt himself betrayed into having made their talk wear the air of
deliberate purpose, and having said not one word of what Mr. Bramshaw
had hailed as hopeful. However, the defending barrister rose up to
ask him what he meant by having answered 'Something like it.'

'Because,' said Aubrey, promptly, 'though we did make the scheme, we
were neither of us in earnest.'

'How do you know the prisoner was not in earnest?'

'We often made plans of what we should like to do.'

'And had you any reason for thinking this one of such plans!'

'Yes,' said Aubrey; 'for he talked of getting gold enough to build up
the market-cross, or else of going to see the Feejee Islands.

'Then you understood the prisoner not to express a deliberate
purpose, so much as a vague design.'

'Just so,' said Aubrey. 'A design that depended on how things went
on at the mill.' And being desired to explain his words, he added,
that Leonard had said he could not bear the sight of Sam Axworthy's
tyranny over the old man, and was resolved not to stay, if he were
made a party to any of the dishonest tricks of the trade.

'In that case, did he say where he would have gone?'

'First to New Zealand, to my brother, the Reverend Norman May.'

Leonard's counsel was satisfied with the colour the conversation had
now assumed; but the perils of re-examination were not over yet, for
the adverse lawyer requested to know whence the funds were to have
come for this adventurous voyage.

'We laughed a little about that, and he said he should have to try
how far his quarter's salary would go towards a passage in the
steerage.'

'If your friend expressed so strong a distaste to his employers and
their business, what induced him to enter it?'

Leonard's counsel again objected to this inquiry, and it was not
permitted. Aubrey was dismissed, and, flushed and giddy, was met by
his brother Tom, who almost took him in his arms as he emerged from
the passage.

'O, Tom! what have I done?'

'Famously, provided there's no miller in the jury. Come,' as he felt
the weight on his arm, 'Flora says I am to take you down and make you
take something.'

'No, no, no, I can't! I must go back.'

'I tell you there's nothing going on. Every one is breathing and
baiting.' And he got him safe to a pastrycook's, and administered
brandy cherries, which Aubrey bolted whole like pills, only
entreating to return, and wanting to know how he thought the case
going.

'Excellently. Hazlitt's evidence and yours ought to carry him
through. And Anderson says they have made so much out of the
witnesses for the prosecution, that they need call none for the
defence; and so the enemy will be balked of their reply, and we shall
have the last word. I vow I have missed my vocation. I know I was
born for a barrister!'

'Now may we come back?' said the boy, overwhelmed by his brother's
cheeriness; and they squeezed into court again, Tom inserting Aubrey
into his own former seat, and standing behind him on half a foot at
the angle of the passage. They were in time for the opening of the
defence, and to hear Leonard described as a youth of spirit and
promise, of a disposition that had won him general affection and
esteem, and recommended to universal sympathy by the bereavement
which was recent in the memory of his fellow-townsmen; and there was
a glance at the mourning which the boy still wore.

'They had heard indeed that he was quick-tempered and impulsive; but
the gentlemen of the jury were some of them fathers, and he put it to
them whether a ready and generous spirit of indignation in a lad were
compatible with cowardly designs against helpless old age; whether
one whose recreations were natural science and manly exercise, showed
tokens of vicious tendencies; above all, whether a youth, whose
friendship they had seen so touchingly claimed by a son of one of the
most highly respected gentlemen in the county, were evincing the
propensities that lead to the perpetration of deeds of darkness.'

Tom patted Aubrey on the shoulder; and Aubrey, though muttering
'humbug,' was by some degrees less wretched.

'Men did not change their nature on a sudden,' the counsel continued;
'and where was the probability that a youth of character entirely
unblemished, and of a disposition particularly humane and generous,
should at once rush into a crime of the deep and deadly description,
to which a long course of dissipation, leading to perplexity,
distress, and despair, would be the only inducement?'

He then went on to speak of Leonard's position at the mill, as junior
clerk. He had been there for six months, without a flaw being
detected, either in his integrity, his diligence, or his regularity;
indeed, it was evident that he had been gradually acquiring a greater
degree of esteem and confidence than he had at first enjoyed, and had
been latterly more employed by his uncle. That a young man of
superior education should find the daily drudgery tedious and
distasteful, and that one of sensitive honour should be startled at
the ordinary, he might almost say proverbial, customs of the miller's
trade, was surprising to no one; and that he should unbosom himself
to a friend of his own age, and indulge together with him in romantic
visions of adventure, was, to all who remembered their own boyhood,
an illustration of the freshness and ingenuousness of the character
that thus unfolded itself. Where there were day-dreams, there was no
room for plots of crime.

Then ensued a species of apology for the necessity of entering into
particulars that did not redound to the credit of a gentleman, who
had appeared before the court under such distressing circumstances as
Mr. Samuel Axworthy; but it was needful that the condition of the
family should be well understood, in order to comprehend the unhappy
train of events which had conducted the prisoner into his present
situation. He then went through what had been traceable through the
evidence--that Samuel Axworthy was a man of expensive habits, and
accustomed to drain his uncle's resources to supply his own needs;
showing how the sum, which had been intrusted to the prisoner, to be
paid into the local bank, had been drawn out by the elder nephew as
soon as he became aware of the deposit; and how, shortly after, the
prisoner had expressed to Aubrey May his indignation at the tyranny
exercised on his uncle.

'By and by, another sum is amassed,' continued Leonard's advocate.
'How dispose of it? The local bank is evidently no security from the
rapacity of the elder nephew. Once aware of its existence, he knows
how to use means for compelling its surrender; and the feeble old man
can no longer call his hard-earned gains his own except on
sufferance. The only means of guarding it is to lodge it secretly in
a distant bank, without the suspicion of his nephew Samuel; but the
invalid is too infirm to leave his apartment; his fingers, crippled
by gout, refuse even to guide the pen. He can only watch for an
opportunity, and this is at length afforded by the absence of the
elder nephew for two days at the county races. This will afford time
for a trustworthy and intelligent messenger to convey the sum to
town, deposit it in Messrs, Drummond's bank, and return unobserved.
When, therefore, supper is brought in, Mr. Axworthy sends for the lad
on whom he has learnt to depend, and shows much disappointment at his
absence. Where is he? Is he engaged with low companions in the
haunts of vice, that are the declivity towards crime? Is he gaming,
or betting, or drinking? No. He has obeyed the summons of his
country; he is a zealous volunteer, and is eagerly using a weapon
presented to him by a highly respected gentleman of large fortune in
a neighbouring county; nay, so far is he from any sinister purpose,
that he is making an appointment with a fellow-rifleman for the
ensuing Monday. On his return at dark, he receives a pressing
summons to his uncle's room, and hastens to obey it without pausing
to lay aside his rifle. The commission is explained, and well
understanding the painfulness of the cause, he discreetly asks no
questions, but prepares to execute it. The sum of £124 12s. is taken
from the drawer of the desk, the odd money assigned to travelling
expenses, the £120 placed in a bag brought in from the office for the
purpose, bearing the initials of the owner, and a receipt in a
private pocket-book was signed by him for the amount, and left open
on the table for the ink to dry.

'Who that has ever been young, can doubt the zest and elevation of
receiving for the first time a confidential mission? Who can doubt
that even the favourite weapon would be forgotten where it stood, and
that it would only be accordant to accredited rules that the window
should be preferable to the door? Had it not already figured in the
visions of adventure in the Sunday evening's walk? was it not a
favourite mode of exit in the mornings, when bathing and fishing were
more attractive than the pillow! Moreover, the moonlight disclosed
what appeared like a figure in the court-yard, and there was reason
at the time to suppose it a person likely to observe and report upon
the expedition. The opening of the front door might likewise attract
notice; and if the cousin should, as was possible, return that night,
the direct road was the way to meet him. The hour was too early for
the train which was to be met, but a lighted candle would reveal the
vigil, and moonlight on the meadows was attractive at eighteen.
Gentlemen of soberer and maturer years might be incredulous, but
surely it was not so strange or unusual for a lad, who indulged in
visions of adventure, to find a moonlight walk by the river-side more
inviting than a bed-room.

'Shortly after, perhaps as soon as the light was extinguished, the
murder must have been committed. The very presence of that light had
been guardianship to the helpless old man below. When it was
quenched, nothing remained astir, the way from without was open, the
weapon stood only too ready to hand, the memorandum-book gave promise
of booty and was secured, though nothing else was apparently touched.
It was this very book that contained the signature that would have
exonerated the prisoner, and to which he fearlessly appealed upon his
arrest at the Paddington Station, before, for his additional
misfortune, he had time to discharge himself of his commission, and
establish his innocence by the deposit of the money at the bank. He
has thus for a while become the victim of a web of suspicious
circumstances. But look at these very circumstances more closely,
and they will be found perfectly consistent with the prisoner's
statement, never varying, be it remembered, from the explanation
given to the policeman in first surprise and horror of the tidings of
the crime.

'It might have been perhaps thought that there was another
alternative between entire innocence and a deliberate purpose of
robbery and murder-namely, that reproof from the old man had provoked
a blow, and that the means of flight had been hastily seized upon in
the moment of confusion and alarm. This might have been a plausible
line of defence, and secure of a favourable hearing; but I beg to
state that the prisoner has distinctly refused any such defence, and
my instructions are to contend for his perfect innocence. A nature
such as we have already traced is, as we cannot but perceive,
revolted by the bare idea of violence to the aged and infirm, and
recoils as strongly from the one accusation as from the other.

'The prisoner made his statement at the first moment, and has adhered
to it in every detail, without confusion or self-contradiction. It
does not attempt to explain all the circumstances, but they all tally
exactly with his story; he is unable to show by whom the crime could
have been committed, nor is he bound in law or justice so to do; nay,
his own story shows the absolute impossibility of his being able to
explain what took place in his absence. But mark how completely the
established facts corroborate his narrative. Observe first the
position in which the body was found, the head on the desk, the stain
of blood corresponding with the wound, the dress undisturbed, all
manifestly untouched since the fatal stroke was dealt. Could this
have been the case, had the key of the drawer of gold been taken from
the waistcoat pocket, the chain from about the neck of the deceased,
and both replaced after the removal of the money and relocking the
drawer! Can any one doubt that the drawer was opened, the money
taken out, and the lock secured, while Mr. Axworthy was alive and
consenting? Again, what robber would convey away the spoil in a bag
bearing the initials of the owner, and that not caught up in haste,
but fetched in for the purpose from the office? Or would so tell-
tale a weapon as the rifle have been left conspicuously close at
hand? There was no guilty precipitation, for the uniform had been
taken off and folded up, and with a whole night before him, it would
have been easy to reach a more distant station, where his person
would not have been recognized. Why, too, if this were the beginning
of a flight and exile, should no preparation have been made for
passing a single night from home? why should a day-ticket have been
asked for? No, the prisoner's own straightforward, unvarnished
statement is the only consistent interpretation of the facts,
otherwise conflicting and incomprehensible.

'That a murder has been committed is unhappily too certain. I make
no attempt to unravel the mystery. I confine myself to the far more
grateful task of demonstrating, that to fasten the imputation on the
accused, would be to overlook a complication of inconsistencies, all
explained by his own account of himself, but utterly inexplicable on
the hypothesis of his guilt.

'Circumstantial evidence is universally acknowledged to be perilous
ground for a conviction; and I never saw a case in which it was more
manifestly delusive than in the present, bearing at first an imposing
and formidable aspect, but on examination, confuted in every detail.
Most assuredly,' continued the counsel, his voice becoming doubly
earnest, 'while there is even the possibility of innocence, it
becomes incumbent on you, gentlemen of the jury, to consider well the
fearful consequences of a decision in a matter of life or death--a
decision for which there can be no reversal. The facts that have
come to light are manifestly incomplete. Another link in the chain
has yet to be added; and when it shall come forth, how will it be if
it should establish the guiltlessness of the prisoner too late? Too
late, when a young life of high promise, and linked by close family
ties, and by bonds of ardent friendship with so many, has been
quenched in shame and disgrace, for a crime to which he may be an
utter stranger.

'The extinction of the light in that upper window was the sign for
darkness and horror to descend on the mill! Here is the light of
life still burning, but a breath of yours can extinguish it in utter
gloom, and then who may rekindle it! Nay, the revelation of events
that would make the transactions of that fatal night clear as the
noonday, would never avail to rekindle the lamp, that may yet, I
trust, shine forth to the world--the clearer, it may be, from the
unmerited imputations, which it has been my part to combat, and of
which his entire life is a confutation.'

Mrs. Pugh was sobbing under her veil; Gertrude felt the cause won.
Tom noiselessly clapped the orator behind his brother's back, and
nodded his approval to his father. Even Leonard lifted up his face,
and shot across a look, as if he felt deliverance near after the
weary day, that seemed to have been a lifetime already, though the
sunbeams were only beginning to fall high and yellow on the ceiling,
through the heated stifling atmosphere, heavy with anxiety and
suspense. Doctor May was thinking of the meeting after the
acquittal, of the telegram to Stoneborough, of the sister's revival,
and of Ethel's greeting.

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