MR. FURNIVAL'S SPEECH.
All this as may be supposed disturbed Felix Graham not a little. He
perceived that each of those two witnesses had made a great effort to
speak the truth;--an honest, painful effort to speak the truth, and
in no way to go beyond it. His gall had risen within him while he had
listened to Mr. Furnival, and witnessed his success in destroying the
presence of mind of that weak wretch who was endeavouring to do his
best in the cause of justice. And again, when Mr. Chaffanbrass had
seized hold of that poor dram, and used all his wit in deducing from
it a self-condemnation from the woman before him;--when the practised
barrister had striven to show that she was an habitual drunkard,
dishonest, unchaste, evil in all her habits, Graham had felt almost
tempted to get up and take her part. No doubt he had evinced this,
for Chaffanbrass had understood what was going on in his colleague's
mind, and had looked round at him from time to time with an air of
scorn that had been almost unendurable.
And then it had become the duty of the prosecutors to prove the
circumstances of the former trial. This was of course essentially
necessary, seeing that the offence for which Lady Mason was now on
her defence was perjury alleged to have been committed at that trial.
And when this had been done at considerable length by Sir Richard
Leatherham,--not without many interruptions from Mr. Furnival and
much assistance from Mr. Steelyard,--it fell upon Felix Graham to
show by cross-examination of Crook the attorney, what had been the
nature and effect of Lady Mason's testimony. As he arose to do this,
Mr. Chaffanbrass whispered into his ear, "If you feel yourself
unequal to it I'll take it up. I won't have her thrown over for any
etiquette,--nor yet for any squeamishness." To this Graham vouchsafed
no answer. He would not even reply by a look, but he got up and did
his work. At this point his conscience did not interfere with him,
for the questions which he asked referred to facts which had really
occurred. Lady Mason's testimony at that trial had been believed by
everybody. The gentleman who had cross-examined her on the part of
Joseph Mason, and who was now dead, had failed to shake her evidence.
The judge who tried the case had declared to the jury that it was
impossible to disbelieve her evidence. That judge was still living,
a poor old bedridden man, and in the course of this latter trial his
statement was given in evidence. There could be no doubt that at the
time Lady Mason's testimony was taken as worthy of all credit. She
had sworn that she had seen the three witnesses sign the codicil, and
no one had then thrown discredit on her. The upshot of all was this,
that the prosecuting side proved satisfactorily that such and such
things had been sworn by Lady Mason; and Felix Graham on the side of
the defence proved that, when she had so sworn, her word had been
considered worthy of credence by the judge and by the jury, and had
hardly been doubted even by the counsel opposed to her. All this
really had been so, and Felix Graham used his utmost ingenuity in
making clear to the court how high and unassailed had been the
position which his client then held.
All this occupied the court till nearly four o'clock, and then as
the case was over on the part of the prosecution, the question arose
whether or no Mr. Furnival should address the jury on that evening,
or wait till the following day. "If your lordship will sit till seven
o'clock," said Mr. Furnival, "I think I can undertake to finish
what remarks I shall have to make by that time." "I should not mind
sitting till nine for the pleasure of hearing Mr. Furnival," said the
judge, who was very anxious to escape from Alston on the day but one
following. And thus it was decided that Mr. Furnival should commence
his speech.
I have said that in spite of some previous hesitation his old fire
had returned to him when he began his work in court on behalf of
his client. If this had been so when that work consisted in the
cross-examination of a witness, it was much more so with him now when
he had to exhibit his own powers of forensic eloquence. When a man
knows that he can speak with ease and energy, and that he will be
listened to with attentive ears, it is all but impossible that he
should fail to be enthusiastic, even though his cause be a bad one.
It was so with him now. All his old fire came back upon him, and
before he had done he had almost brought himself again to believe
Lady Mason to be that victim of persecution as which he did not
hesitate to represent her to the jury.
"Gentlemen of the jury," he said, "I never rose to plead a client's
cause with more confidence than I now feel in pleading that of my
friend Lady Mason. Twenty years ago I was engaged in defending her
rights in this matter, and I then succeeded. I little thought at that
time that I should be called on after so long an interval to renew
my work. I little thought that the pertinacity of her opponent would
hold out for such a period. I compliment him on the firmness of his
character, on that equable temperament which has enabled him to sit
through all this trial, and to look without dismay on the unfortunate
lady whom he has considered it to be his duty to accuse of perjury. I
did not think that I should live to fight this battle again. But so
it is; and as I had but little doubt of victory then,--so have I none
now. Gentlemen of the jury, I must occupy some of your time and of
the time of the court in going through the evidence which has been
adduced by my learned friend against my client; but I almost feel
that I shall be detaining you unnecessarily, so sure I am that the
circumstances, as they have been already explained to you, could not
justify you in giving a verdict against her."
As Mr. Furnival's speech occupied fully three hours, I will not
trouble my readers with the whole of it. He began by describing the
former trial, and giving his own recollections as to Lady Mason's
conduct on that occasion. In doing this, he fully acknowledged on her
behalf that she did give as evidence that special statement which her
opponents now endeavoured to prove to have been false. "If it were
the case," he said, "that that codicil--or that pretended codicil,
was not executed by old Sir Joseph Mason, and was not witnessed by
Usbech, Kenneby, and Bridget Bolster,--then, in that case, Lady
Mason has been guilty of perjury." Mr. Furnival, as he made this
acknowledgement, studiously avoided the face of Lady Mason. But as
he made this assertion, almost everybody in the court except her own
counsel did look at her. Joseph Mason opposite and Dockwrath fixed
their gaze closely upon her. Sir Richard Leatherham and Mr. Steelyard
turned their eyes towards her, probably without meaning to do so.
The judge looked over his spectacles at her. Even Mr. Aram glanced
round at her surreptitiously; and Lucius turned his face upon his
mother's, almost with an air of triumph. But she bore it all without
flinching;--bore it all without flinching, though the state of her
mind at that moment must have been pitiable. And Mrs. Orme, who held
her hand all the while, knew that it was so. The hand which rested in
hers was twitched as it were convulsively, but the culprit gave no
outward sign of her guilt.
Mr. Furnival then read much of the evidence given at the former
trial, and especially showed how the witnesses had then failed to
prove that Usbech had not been required to write his name. It was
quite true, he said, that they had been equally unable to prove that
he had done so; but that amounted to nothing; the "onus probandi" lay
with the accusing side. There was the signature, and it was for them
to prove that it was not that which it pretended to be. Lady Mason
had proved that it was so; and because that had then been held to
be sufficient, they now, after twenty years, took this means of
invalidating her testimony. From that he went to the evidence given
at the present trial, beginning with the malice and interested
motives of Dockwrath. Against three of them only was it needful that
he should allege anything, seeing that the statements made by the
others were in no way injurious to Lady Mason,--if the statements
made by those three were not credible. Torrington, for instance, had
proved that other deed; but what of that, if on the fatal 14th of
July Sir Joseph Mason had executed two deeds? As to Dockwrath,--that
his conduct had been interested and malicious there could be no
doubt; and he submitted to the jury that he had shown himself to be a
man unworthy of credit. As to Kenneby,--that poor weak creature, as
Mr. Furnival in his mercy called him,--he, Mr. Furnival, could not
charge his conscience with saying that he believed him to have been
guilty of any falsehood. On the contrary, he conceived that Kenneby
had endeavoured to tell the truth. But he was one of those men whose
minds were so inconsequential that they literally did not know truth
from falsehood. He had not intended to lie when he told the jury
that he was not quite sure he had never witnessed two signatures by
Sir Joseph Mason on the same day, nor did he lie when he told them
again that he had witnessed three. He had meant to declare the truth;
but he was, unfortunately, a man whose evidence could not be of
much service in any case of importance, and could be of no service
whatever in a criminal charge tried, as was done in this instance,
more than twenty years after the alleged commission of the offence.
With regard to Bridget Bolster, he had no hesitation whatever in
telling the jury that she was a woman unworthy of belief,--unworthy
of that credit which the jury must place in her before they could
convict any one on her unaided testimony. It must have been clear to
them all that she had come into court drilled and instructed to make
one point-blank statement, and to stick to that. She had refused to
give any evidence as to her own signature. She would not even look at
her own name as written by herself; but had contented herself with
repeating over and over again those few words which she had been
instructed so to say;--the statement namely, that she had never put
her hand to more than one deed.
Then he addressed himself, as he concluded his speech, to that part
of the subject which was more closely personal to Lady Mason herself.
"And now, gentlemen of the jury," he said, "before I can dismiss you
from your weary day's work, I must ask you to regard the position of
the lady who has been thus accused, and the amount of probability of
her guilt which you may assume from the nature of her life. I shall
call no witnesses as to her character, for I will not submit her
friends to the annoyance of those questions which the gentlemen
opposite might feel it their duty to put to them. Circumstances
have occurred--so much I will tell you, and so much no doubt
you all personally know, though it is not in evidence before
you;--circumstances have occurred which would make it cruel on my
part to place her old friend Sir Peregrine Orme in that box. The
story, could I tell it to you, is one full of romance, but full also
of truth and affection. But though Sir Peregrine Orme is not here,
there sits his daughter by Lady Mason's side,--there she has sat
through this tedious trial, giving comfort to the woman that she
loves,--and there she will sit till your verdict shall have made
her further presence here unnecessary. His lordship and my learned
friend there will tell you that you cannot take that as evidence of
character. They will be justified in so telling you; but I, on the
other hand, defy you not to take it as such evidence. Let us make
what laws we will, they cannot take precedence of human nature. There
too sits my client's son. You will remember that at the beginning of
this trial the solicitor-general expressed a wish that he were not
here. I do not know whether you then responded to that wish, but I
believe I may take it for granted that you do not do so now. Had any
woman dear to either of you been so placed through the malice of an
enemy, would you have hesitated to sit by her in her hour of trial?
Had you doubted of her innocence you might have hesitated; for who
could endure to hear announced in a crowded court like this the guilt
of a mother or a wife? But he has no doubt. Nor, I believe, has any
living being in this court,--unless it be her kinsman opposite, whose
life for the last twenty years has been made wretched by a wicked
longing after the patrimony of his brother.
"Gentlemen of the jury, there sits my client with as loving a friend
on one side as ever woman had, and with her only child on the other.
During the incidents of this trial the nature of the life she has
led during the last twenty years,--since the period of that terrible
crime with which she is charged,--has been proved before you. I may
fearlessly ask you whether so fair a life is compatible with the
idea of guilt so foul? I have known her intimately during all those
years,--not as a lawyer, but as a friend,--and I confess that the
audacity of this man Dockwrath, in assailing such a character
with such an accusation, strikes me almost with admiration. What!
Forgery!--for that, gentlemen of the jury, is the crime with which
she is substantially charged. Look at her, as she sits there! That
she, at the age of twenty, or not much more,--she who had so well
performed the duties of her young life, that she should have forged
a will,--have traced one signature after another in such a manner as
to have deceived all those lawyers who were on her track immediately
after her husband's death! For, mark you, if this be true, with
her own hand she must have done it! There was no accomplice there.
Look at her! Was she a forger? Was she a woman to deceive the sharp
bloodhounds of the law? Could she, with that young baby on her bosom,
have wrested from such as him"--and as he spoke he pointed with his
finger, but with a look of unutterable scorn, to Joseph Mason, who
was sitting opposite to him--"that fragment of his old father's
property which he coveted so sorely? Where had she learned such
skilled artifice? Gentlemen, such ingenuity in crime as that has
never yet been proved in a court of law, even against those who have
spent a life of wretchedness in acquiring such skill; and now you are
asked to believe that such a deed was done by a young wife, of whom
all that you know is that her conduct in every other respect had been
beyond all praise! Gentlemen, I might have defied you to believe
this accusation had it even been supported by testimony of a high
character. Even in such case you would have felt that there was more
behind than had been brought to your knowledge. But now, having seen,
as you have, of what nature are the witnesses on whose testimony she
has been impeached, it is impossible that you should believe this
story. Had Lady Mason been a woman steeped in guilt from her infancy,
had she been noted for cunning and fraudulent ingenuity, had she been
known as an expert forger, you would not have convicted her on this
indictment, having had before you the malice and greed of Dockwrath,
the stupidity--I may almost call it idiocy, of Kenneby, and the
dogged resolution to conceal the truth evinced by the woman Bolster.
With strong evidence you could not have believed such a charge
against so excellent a lady. With such evidence as you have had
before you, you could not have believed the charge against a
previously convicted felon.
"And what has been the object of this terrible persecution,--of the
dreadful punishment which has been inflicted on this poor lady? For
remember, though you cannot pronounce her guilty, her sufferings have
been terribly severe. Think what it must have been for a woman with
habits such as hers, to have looked forward for long, long weeks
to such a martyrdom as this! Think what she must have suffered in
being dragged here and subjected to the gaze of all the county as a
suspected felon! Think what must have been her feelings when I told
her, not knowing how deep an ingenuity might be practised against
her, that I must counsel her to call to her aid the unequalled
talents of my friend Mr. Chaffanbrass"--"Unequalled no longer, but
far surpassed," whispered Chaffanbrass, in a voice that was audible
through all the centre of the court. "Her punishment has been
terrible," continued Mr. Furnival. "After what she has gone through,
it may well be doubted whether she can continue to reside at that
sweet spot which has aroused such a feeling of avarice in the bosom
of her kinsman. You have heard that Sir Joseph Mason had promised his
eldest son that Orley Farm should form a part of his inheritance. It
may be that the old man did make such a promise. If so, he thought
fit to break it. But is it not wonderful that a man wealthy as is Mr.
Mason--for his fortune is large; who has never wanted anything that
money can buy; a man for whom his father did so much,--that he should
be stirred up by disappointed avarice to carry in his bosom for
twenty years so bitter a feeling of rancour against those who are
nearest to him by blood and ties of family! Gentlemen, it has been
a fearful lesson; but it is one which neither you nor I will ever
forget!
"And now I shall leave my client's case in your hands. As to the
verdict which you will give, I have no apprehension. You know as well
as I do that she has not been guilty of this terrible crime. That
you will so pronounce I do not for a moment doubt. But I do hope
that that verdict will be accompanied by some expression on your
part which may show to the world at large how great has been the
wickedness displayed in the accusation."
And yet as he sat down he knew that she had been guilty! To his ear
her guilt had never been confessed; but yet he knew that it was so,
and, knowing that, he had been able to speak as though her innocence
were a thing of course. That those witnesses had spoken truth he also
knew, and yet he had been able to hold them up to the execration of
all around them as though they had committed the worst of crimes from
the foulest of motives! And more than this, stranger than this, worse
than this,--when the legal world knew--as the legal world soon did
know--that all this had been so, the legal world found no fault with
Mr. Furnival, conceiving that he had done his duty by his client in a
manner becoming an English barrister and an English gentleman.