THE TRIAL.
At length, the day of the celebrated trial of Wyckliffe _v._ Morris and
Winter dawned. Never since the days of the trial of Ned Kelly had
popular excitement been so keen. The newspapers were full of the case.
It was the absorbing topic throughout the colonies, and the conjectures
as to the result were numerous.
The Melbourne Law Courts are housed in a huge building, which cost
hundreds of thousands of pounds, and is acknowledged to be the largest
in the Colonies. But it was not in this palatial building that the great
case was tried, but as is usually the way in a dilapidated, stuffy,
little police-court, with dingy walls, bad ventilation, and greasy
seats.
Long before the commencement of the trial, large crowds had gathered
round the doors, not one tenth of whom could have found seats in the
miserable building, that would scarcely hold two hundred people. The
boys had secured passes for their friends to the gallery.
The bench was overcrowded with gentlemen who could tag J.P. on to their
names. This is usual when an exciting case, particularly a breach of
promise case, is on. At ordinary times great difficulty is experienced
in getting anyone to attend.
When the Court was duly opened the Inspector read out the charge against
Reginald Morris and Allen Winter, for inflicting grievous bodily harm
and endangering the life of Villiers Wyckliffe.
"How do you plead--Guilty or Not Guilty?" asked the Clerk of the Court.
"Not Guilty," said Reg.
"Not Guilty," said Hal.
"I appear to prosecute, your worship," said Mr. Qurves, rising.
"And I for the defendants," said Dr. Haddon.
Wyck sat by his counsel's side. His head was wrapped in bandages and the
expression of his face was forlorn and miserable. The boys were
permitted to sit at their counsel's side and both appeared quite
contented and serene.
The celebrated counsel, Mr. Qurves, noisily arranged his papers, rose
and opened the case in the blustering manner for which he was famous.
"The case I have to present to your worship I think I may characterise
as unprecedented in the annals of Australian history. It is monstrous
that such a savage act of reprisal should have been conceived in the
midst of the enlightened civilisation of our day. It is typical of a
period of savagery and barbarism, and I venture to assert that even were
we living under such barbaric conditions, when human life was held
cheaply, an act so atrocious as this would not be allowed to go
unpunished. That the prisoners--"
"I object to my clients being called prisoners," interposed Dr. Haddon.
"I bow to my learned friend. I will say defendants--for that they will
be prisoners soon will be clearly demonstrated, so the objection hardly
matters. That the defendants are hardened to crime and wickedness their
callous manner makes apparent to all of us. To view with in-difference
the grave charge of disfiguring a man in such a manner that his life is
ruined stamps them at once as murderers in intent, if not in deed. I
shall have little difficulty in shewing your worship that the crime was
premeditated, and that the defendants were literally thirsting to avenge
themselves in this bloodthirsty manner. I shall shew the Court that the
defendant Morris set himself to avenge a wrong--or rather what his
warped imagination considered a wrong--and, coward that he was, thinking
that man to man would be an unequal match he sought an accomplice in the
man by his side. Both of them hounded my client down, tracked him over
the whole country--and what for, think you? For his blood--and yet both
have the presumption to sit there with smiling faces and to ask you to
believe they have done an heroic deed."
Mr. Qurves was practised in the art of rousing his audience to
indignation, and he paused to let the full effect of his outburst sink
into the hearts of his hearers.
"These are the outlines, your worship. I will now go into details.
Villiers Wyckliffe, my client, is the only son of the late Seymour
Wyckcliffe, the eminent banker, whose name is known throughout the
civilised world. On the death of his father, Mr. Wyckliffe, being
disinclined for a business life, converted the bank into a company and
retired. Now, given a young man of prepossessing appearance, of good
birth and standing, with ample means, does it not stand to reason that,
in a city like London, a young man of this description would have more
temptations thrown in his way than a more ordinary individual?
Furthermore, he was always a great favourite with the gentler sex, and
perhaps that fact alone was sufficient to rouse the ire of jealous
individuals, a fair specimen of whom we have before us in the defendant
Morris. Now, my client was introduced to a young lady at a ball, at the
lady's own request, and they sat out one dance together. The lady
proving to be very interested in him, and shewing a tendency to
monopolise his attention, time passed, so that instead of one dance
being missed, two were. The lady in question had merely remarked that as
she was engaged to her betrothed for the next dance, it did not matter
missing it. Also, in the course of the conversation, she mentioned, in a
manner that could not be misconstrued, that she would be walking on the
following day in the Park. Naturally, my client announced his intention
of being there too. They met, and for several days continued to meet,
just previous to the day the plaintiff had decided to start on his trip
to Australia. On his arrival here telegrams informed him that he was
being pursued. My client was surprised, but subsequently obtained the
information that the girl had fallen in love with him and broken off
with her betrothed, the defendant Morris. Now, I ask the Court if it is
surprising that a girl should do that? One has only to compare the two
men--even though you now see my client at a disadvantage--to perceive
how natural, how much a matter of common sense and how inevitable it was
that she should do so. Now, this commonplace matter was the cause of the
assault."
We need not follow the learned counsel as he detailed the history of the
meeting with Winter, the pursuit from one colony to another, the theft
of the notched stick, and the ultimate capture of Wyck. With brutal
directness and sarcasm he laid bare a diabolical plot until the audience
was roused almost to a pitch of frenzy: but when he closed as follows
the frenzy became almost uncontrollable.
"When these ruffians seized and drugged my client and gave play to their
barbarous instincts by maiming him for life, one is tempted to ask why
they did not further indulge their brutal propensities by roasting the
flesh they cut away. I am sorry to say that both these men are
Australians, and I ask again, can such things be tolerated in the
country of sunshine and gladness, of freedom and justice? In another
country we know Judge Lynch would preside at their trial. And we here
shall shew these two that such an atrocity will not be permitted here
solely because a girl has shewn one man that she can like him better
than another, with whom she has become entangled. I will now call Mr.
Wyckliffe."
As Mr. Qurves sat down he was gratified to find his blustering eloquence
had had the result desired. Applause broke out in all corners of the
Court; in vain the criers shouted for order, but their voices were
drowned. "Let's lynch 'em," shouted some ardent spirits at the back. The
row only subsided when the magistrate gave orders for the Court to be
cleared. The boys looked quietly at each other, and held a whispered
consultation with their counsel, but they remained as calm and collected
as before, and the girls followed their example of quiet confidence.
Wyck entered the box with an air of bravado, and gave full particulars
in support of his counsel's opening, in answer to the questions put to
him. When Mr. Qurves had finished, Dr. Haddon rose in a quiet way,
glanced slowly round the Court, and, turning to Wyck, asked:
"You know, of course, you are on your oath?"
"Certainly."
"You were a member of the Detlij Club before you left London?"
Wyck started in surprise, but answered, "I was."
"One of the objects of the Club was to enable jilted men to avenge
themselves, I believe?"
"I believe so."
"They give a gold badge every year to the member who can boast of having
destroyed the happiness of the most ladies?"
"Yes."
"You were awarded that badge last year?"
"I was."
"This is your stick, I believe?"
"It was, before it was stolen."
"Did you cut those notches in it?"
"No."
"Who did?"
"I don't know."
"Will you swear that you did not produce this stick at the Detlij Club
and assert that each notch represented a broken heart?"
"I did not."
"Then what did you get the badge for?"
"I don't know." This in a sulky tone.
"Had you a friend of the name of Thomas Thomas?"
"Yes."
"You are aware he confessed everything to Morris?"
"No!" excitedly.
"Well then, I can tell you he did."
"It's a lie."
"Your crest was a broken heart, I believe?"
"It was."
"Why did you choose that?"
"To please myself."
"You know, of course, that you are branded with your own device?"
"Yes."
"Now, with reference to this stick; do you still swear that you never
produced it at the Detlij Club?"
"I do."
"Then what would you say if I brought forward a member of the Club to
prove it?"
"That he's a liar."
"I have nothing more to ask, your worship," said Dr. Haddon, resuming
his seat.
Dick Burton and several minor witnesses were called to complete the case
for the prosecution, and the Court adjourned for luncheon.