Читать книгу The Hermit Convict - Rev. William Draper - Страница 7

Table of Contents

Leyton had not had such a sensational case for years. The parish constable had been, from an early hour in the morning, an object of the most intense delight to a considerable number of small boys and lesser girls. Perhaps they considered it possible that the prisoner was in some way connected with a brother constable, who had come over to Leyton from a neighboring parish in pursuance of an urgent request which had been sent by special messenger to him. Leyton constable was a little man with an abundant stock of self-importance. Wickham constable was a gigantic fellow, with an extraordinary supply of intense stupidity. The name of the former was Reuben Jacobs, but the giant was known as "the Doctor," nor had he the least idea how this singular term had been attached to him. Tradition has it upon record, that his father drew teeth, and that his son was dubbed 'the Doctor' at the parish school. But speculation upon this historical subject is useless, when it is recorded that upon a certain important occasion in which a lady was concerned, Reuben Jacobs and his friend had sat in council to discuss this solemn question, and after smoking their pipes for three hours, and washing down the aroma of the smoke with an entire bottle of brandy and a small portion of hot water, they at length came to the conclusion, gravely and decisively, that the person who could throw any light upon the subject was not yet born.

These functionaries, who are genuine copies of two originals, must not occupy more than a corner. Many a ludicrous mistake might be described which, in conjunction with real events, caused roars of laughter at the expense of these sapient officers of justice. But the scenes in the greater part of the book will be enacted in a far distant land, and the temptation to transport these two men thither, must, for truth's sake, be resisted.

Of course the White Lion became the rendezvous of the coroner, the jury, the witnesses, and every busybody the town could boast of. Rumors of the murder had quickly spread far and wide, and in the course of the morning, Septimus Long, Esq.; Richard Lloyd, Esq.; and John Brown Trotter, Esq.; all of them magistrates in the county, came into town to watch the proceedings. The first of the three was as pompous and empty-headed, as he was bigotted and self-important. The other gentlemen were well skilled in criminal jurisdiction. At 12 o'clock the proceedings were commenced. The body was duly inspected, and the evidence which followed was gradually weaving a net of condemnation around the prisoner. Still there were circumstances which could not be explained, and though the position in which the prisoner and the deceased were found, coupled with the medical evidence, that Argyle's whip must have been the weapon which was used, pointed with tolerable certainty to the fact that his hand had struck the fatal blow, the two "lawyer magistrates," as they were called, plainly expressed their opinion that it was quite possible for a third party to have been concerned in this horrible crime.

"With your permission, Mr. Coroner," said Mr. Trotter, interrupting the proceedings as the evidence of the man who had discovered the murder was concluded, "I would desire to make a remark or two. He has said that the prisoner was drunk. Is there anyone who can speak decidedly upon this point?"

"Your assistance, worthy sir, in this case, being of course extra judicial," replied the coroner, "will be most acceptable. The next witness will explain this matter. Call James Roberts."

James Roberts examined: "At what hour did the prisoner arrive at the White Lion?"

"About 4 o'clock yesterday afternoon."

"How did he spend the time he remained there? He was drinking, I suppose."

"Yes, sir, he drank a good deal; wine principally, then champagne."

"And when did he leave the hotel?"

"About half-past 9, as near as I can guess."

"Now what was his condition at that time?"

"Well, sir, I should say he was slightly drunk."

"Slightly drunk. Tell us what you mean, my man. Was he unable to stand?"

"Oh, no, not so bad as that, though he could not keep on his legs without some help."

Here the witness described the prisoner's attempt to mount his horse, which excited some amusement, during which Argyle held down his head as if he was heartily ashamed.

"It seems to me, Mr. Coroner," said Mr. Long, "that the prisoner was stupid but not drunk."

"But the evidence, Mr. Long," replied the Coroner, "is plain upon this point he was drunk, so drunk that the people had to hold him up or he would have fallen. Besides that, what do you think of a man who tried to mount his horse the wrong way?"

"Oh, Mr. Coroner, as to that," replied the sapient magistrate, "we have all known many people who tried to do things the wrong way."

"But not to mount their horses with the tail for a bridle, eh, Mr. Long!" said Mr. Lloyd. "Allow me, Mr. Coroner, to inquire of the witness, whether there appeared to be any ill-feeling between the two young men."

"Ill-feeling, sir! I should say not. Mr. Argyle there, kept on saying, 'He's a jolly good fellow; a regular good cove,' and all that sort of thing. They went away as jovial and merry as two crickets."

"And in an hour afterwards one was found murdered?" Mr. Lloyd put this question.

"Yes, sir, about an hour after, so near as I can guess."

"My opinion is still, Mr. Coroner," said Mr. Long, "that the prisoner was stupid, perhaps shamming."

"And mine, Mr. Long," replied Mr. Lloyd, "is that there is no evidence to prove any thing of the kind."

"Indeed, sir," said Mr. Long, "perhaps you are an oracle upon such questions."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" interrupted the Coroner, "pray let us have no contentions, or we shall never arrive at a proper conclusion. It will be better, perhaps, that you do not interfere."

"With all my heart," replied Mr. Trotter; "but allow me to say that the evidence as yet is too circumstantial. Have you nothing of a more direct character pointing to the prisoner as the criminal?"

"You shall hear all that is known, gentlemen, and I think it will be necessary to adjourn the inquest, in order to make further inquiry."

So witnesses were called who distinctly declared that the prisoner was too intoxicated to have struck such a blow as that which killed the deceased. Some of them said that they tried to keep Argyle from drinking so much, but he would have it, until he fell under the table, and was taken up and laid upon a sofa, where he slept soundly for an hour; but upon being roused he snatched up a tumbler in which there was some raw brandy and drank it off, and this made him as bad as he was before he went to sleep, and more noisy. That under these circumstances, some of the members of the club thought it would be best to put him to bed, but the deceased said, "he would go home, and he would see the prisoner safe home also." Rouse was not so drunk but that he knew what he was about. In addition to this evidence, it was proved that the secretary, who was going home at the same time as the two young farmers left, said that he would accompany them as far as he went.

"Where is this secretary?" inquired Mr. Lloyd.

No one knew. He was called but did not appear, and the coroner ordered that he should be summoned.

"Was the body of the deceased upon the pathway or in the road?"

The first witness was recalled: "In the road."

"Were there any marks of struggling visible?"

"None, except those of horses feet."

"Constable, have you tracked any footsteps from the place where the murder was committed?"

He had not seen any.

"Was there any money found upon the deceased?"

"None, your honor."

At this point the prisoner started up with a peculiar cry, and informed the Coroner he had been robbed.

"Robbed!" replied that gentleman, "what do you mean, prisoner?"

"Why, that my pocket-book is gone, and with it seventy pounds."

Singular to relate, at this very moment one of the servants of the inn entered the room to inform the court that a pocket-book had been found by him in a field, across which there was a public pathway leading to Woodlands.

"How near to the scene of the murder," asked the coroner.

"About ten yards from the hedge," was the reply. "It seemed to have been dropped by some one who had taken that pathway across Giles' meadow."

The pocket-book being examined was found to be empty, with the exception of some accounts and other papers. There was no money in it.

Here the evidence was exhausted, and the inquiry was adjourned. Adjourned, to be again protracted to little purpose, save that a further witness was examined, a woman, who stated that "as she was sitting up for her husband, who was in the town drinking, as was his custom on market days, she was startled by a loud cry, and going to the door heard a noise as if some people were fighting, but it was soon over, and in about ten minutes after, Mr. Judd, who was passing by on his way home, replied to the question which she put to him, that it was two men having a dispute together, but they were gone on now." The road to her house was a bye-road leading off from the turnpike road, where the murder was committed. The secretary, Mr. Judd, it was found, had gone on horseback very early on the morning after the murder to Ipswich upon some pressing business.

He did not return until after the inquest was concluded. Argyle of course was committed for trial, and it was rumored that Judd's evidence would be forthcoming at the assizes. To this statement may be added another, that the magistrate's inquiry was almost a verbatim repetition of the evidence which was taken before the coroner, and that Mr. Septimus Long, who interfered in every stage of the examination, was at last very plainly requested by the chairman of the bench to hold his tongue. The veil may be lifted sufficiently to explain the conduct of this gentleman, by saying that he was an active partisan of Henry Judd, and a man who was willing to descend to any dishonorable action if it would serve his own purpose. Temptation in one man has its strong link in another, and this in its turn lays its strong grasp on some one else, and who can say that the base action of Judas or Gehazi is not to this day bearing its dreadful fruit, in crimes, committed by those who have been influenced by others, who, in their turn, were excited by the example or words of those they knew, and so on step by step backward and backward still, until the Archtraitor himself could be unmasked. Who can tell what the effect of one sin will be? Until it is possible to snatch an uttered word from the atmosphere which has absorbed it, the answer to this question must be, "None!" There is One who has set in motion an unerring machinery by which words are registered with undeviating accuracy. He can trace our words; He only can connect them with our deeds with certain judgment. For three years and more the traitor smiled over his Great Master's wondrous career, and then kissed Him in hellish devilry. How long will Mr. Septimus Long smile over his partisanship in the Layton murder business? We shall see!

The result of the trial has been anticipated by the statement that Argyle, as a convict, sailed in the same ship with Stewart. He was convicted of manslaughter under aggravated circumstances, the evidence of Henry Judd being considered conclusive in to his guilt. On the trial he declared that when the two young men left the hotel the prisoner became very noisy and unmanageable; that the deceased tried to restrain him, but this was impossible; that as they reached the corner where the bye-road turned off towards Woodlands, Argyle declared he would go back again to the town; that the deceased tried to prevent him; that a slight struggle ensued, in which the prisoner fell from his horse; that he lay on the ground for a minute or so, and in the meantime the deceased dismounted; that the prisoner then managed to get on his legs, and raising his whip advanced towards the deceased with some angry words which he did not hear; that not wishing to be mixed up in a quarrel which might perhaps end in a court affair if he interfered, and knowing that he should be obliged to leave town early in the morning, he left them to settle the matter between themselves, hoping that after all it would end amicably. He heard of the murder as soon as the first coach arrived in Ipswich the next day. This evidence was taken after the prisoner had been committed for trial, but the accused had been present in the magistrate's room, at the county gaol where Judd was examined. The witness was cross-examined by the prisoner's attorney, but it was mutually agreed that the deposition should be attached to the proceedings, leaving it open for counsel to deal with it on the trial as might be necessary. It was dealt with, but the result was the same. Everything pointed to the prisoner as the murderer, and Argyle, after a long and tedious trial, heard the fatal words, "Guilty," with a strong recommendation to mercy. This verdict the judge, in his sentence, reduced to manslaughter, which, in those days, was a grievous crime in the statute book. Sentence of death was recorded, which was a convenient way of banishing a human being from civilisation for the rest of his days. So Argyle became a convict. The chequered career of vicissitude and crime to which the sentence led was not unmixed with opportunities of redeeming much of the misery which thus fell so suddenly and fatally upon this young man. Ruin, disgrace, irretrievable suffering, stared him in the face as he went back to gaol.

There was One, however, who did not suffer him to go hence without seeing this great mystery unravelled, as easily as a Jewish Rabbi unrolls the copy of the law and reads it to the people.