SETROSMITO'S TRIAL.
As soon as the commotion produced by that lamentable cry had subsided,
Mr. Greveland began to question the prisoner.
"What is your name?" he asked.
The djaksa interpreted the question to the accused man in Javanese.
The prisoner with his head bent forward and his eyes steadfastly
fixed on the floor replied:
"Setrosmito, kandjeng toean."
"Where were you born?"
"At Kaligaweh, kandjeng toean."
"How old are you?"
"I don't know, kandjeng toean."
The djaksa turned to the clerk of the court and said, "Put him down
about forty years of age."
There was, in reality, but little need for all this interrogatory;
for the particulars had been already noted down during the course of
the preliminary examinations. The questions were, in fact, put merely
pro forma.
"Where do you live?" continued the president.
"In the prison, kandjeng toean," innocently answered the prisoner.
"Aye! but I mean before you went to prison?"
"In the dessa Kaligaweh, kandjeng toean."
"Setrosmito," continued the president, "do you know why you have been
brought here before us?"
"Yes, kandjeng toean."
"Let us hear it then."
"They tell me I have smuggled opium, and that I have killed a
Chinaman," quietly replied the Javanese, without so much as raising
his eyes from the floor.
A murmur of indignation ran through the pandoppo at the apparent
callousness of the reply.
"Silence!" cried the president.
"Silence in the court!" vociferated the usher.
"Do you plead guilty to these charges?" asked Mr. Greveland.
The djaksa interpreted the question; but the prisoner hesitated--he
seemed not to know what he ought to say. He cast a furtive sidelong
glance at August van Beneden, who reassured him by saying:
"Speak up, Setrosmito, speak up, tell the simple truth."
"No, kandjeng toean," said he, "I am not guilty of smuggling. I never
touch the bedoedan. I have killed a Chinaman because he ill-treated
my child."
The Javanese spoke in a very low tone of voice--he was abashed before
that large audience and before his chiefs. He spoke moreover in
the Javanese tongue, which hardly any one present could understand,
so that his answer produced no impression whatever.
"Now, listen attentively, Setrosmito," said the president. "The charges
against you, your own statements, and the evidence of the witnesses,
will be read out to you."
"Yes, kandjeng toean."
Thereupon the clerk of the court rose, and in the sing-song monotonous
tone of voice peculiar to his class, began to read all the depositions
and the whole body of evidence which the preliminary examinations had
produced. He read very fast, very indistinctly, and in so low a tone
of voice that not a soul in the pandoppo, not even the president
himself, who was seated close beside him, could understand what
he said. The prisoner, of course, could not catch a single word;
for the papers were all drawn up in Malay, a language of which the
simple dessa-labourer knows little or nothing. From time to time
this dreamy flow of words was interrupted by the djaksa, whose duty
it was to translate to the prisoner the more important parts of the
case. But even the interpretation was got through at such a pace that
it was very doubtful whether the prisoner was any the wiser for the
djaksa's translation.
He sat squatting on the floor without changing his attitude, and
kept his eyes rivetted on one spot; his hands, fumbling the while
at the skirts of his jacket, betrayed his extreme agitation. At
every explanation of the djaksa, whether he understood it or not,
he mumbled the invariable Javanese answer:
"Yes, kandjeng toean."
This reading of the evidence was a most dreary and tedious
business. Even the members of the council at the table kept up
a whispered conversation, which the president had repeatedly to
interrupt with an impatient gesture and a stern look of displeasure.
The audience, however, did not confine themselves to mere whispers. No
one spoke out aloud; but gradually there arose a humming and
buzzing--an indescribable rumour, broken now and again by some lady's
giggle--which sadly interfered with the majesty of the law.
In vain did the usher exert the full power of his lungs. His shout of
"silence" produced its effect for the moment; but it was only for
the moment. The instant after the universal buzzing began again as
if a huge swarm of bees had taken possession of the pandoppo.
"What an insufferable bore that clerk is to be sure!" simpered
Mrs. van Gulpendam.
"He leaves the reading to his nose," remarked Mr. Thomasz.
"Mind your chief does not hear you," said one of the ladies.
"Pray don't tell him!" cried Thomasz, "he does not know he talks
through his gable--if he did, he might try and improve."
"Be quiet, Mr. Thomasz," said Laurentia, with a burst of laughter,
"you really must not make us laugh so."
"What? I, madam?" asked the clerk.
"You? Of course. The Resident calls you a dry comical fellow."
"How, madam, do you mean to say the Resident applies such terms to me?"
"Yes, he does--don't you like them?"
"Madam," replied the assistant-clerk, "professionally I cannot say
that I do. Just fancy, ladies," he continued, turning to the others,
"a comical clerk, who ever heard of such a thing?"
He uttered these words with a serio-comic air, so irresistibly droll,
that the ladies fairly shook with suppressed laughter.
"Oh--do hold your tongue, Mr. Thomasz!" Laurentia at length managed
to say, "you see how savagely Mr. Greveland is glaring at you."
"What a time that mumbler takes to be sure!" said a voice almost
aloud in the centre of the pandoppo.
"If one might only light a cigar to while away the time," said another.
"Or get a glass of bitters!"
"I was asking an oppasser just now to fetch me a glass of beer--my
throat is as dry as a lime-kiln," said another voice in an audible
whisper.
"Well--and did you get it?"
"Don't I wish I may get it? 'Not allowed, sir,' was all I could
get out of that canary-bird, who looked as black as a three days'
west monsoon."
"Shall we go to the club, it is close by?" asked another.
"Yes, if I thought that muttering would last much longer."
"Silence! silence!" shouted the usher, "respect for the court!"
That respect for the court was all very well; but the good people of
Santjoemeh had gathered together for the sake of amusement, and they
were being bored almost to death.
At length the clerk had got to the end of his dreary tale--at
length the djaksa had, for the last time, said to the prisoner:
"Do you understand, Setrosmito?" And at length, for the last time,
the latter had replied in his monotonous drone the same words:
"Yes, kandjeng toean."
Then came the usual shuffling of feet and a general murmur of
satisfaction which, however, the usher soon managed to subdue.
As soon as silence had been restored, the head djaksa rose from his
chair and, in his capacity of public prosecutor, he began to open
the case for the Government.
His speech was remarkably well put together, and worked out with much
skill and care; but it could have an interest only for those who knew
nothing of the other side of the case.
It was, in fact, little more than a statement of what had occurred,
strictly on the lines of the report of the bandoelan Singomengolo.
The public prosecutor took the case of opium smuggling as conclusively
proved. He dwelt at great length upon the cunning displayed in
hiding the forbidden wares under the pandan-mat of the couch--the
opium itself and the box which had contained it lay before him on
the table as convincing proofs of the truth of what he advanced.
Then, in very forcible words, he went on to dilate upon the craftiness
of these opium smugglers; and tried to show how, in their endeavours
to cheat the revenue, they gave evidence of much cleverness; but
generally over-reached themselves and proved, by the tricks they
employed, their utter want of honesty and moral sense.
Mas Wirio Kesoemo waxed well-nigh eloquent when he pointed out how
the passion for opium was, hand over hand, gaining ground in Java;
and how this debasing passion was promoted and fostered chiefly by
the abominable smuggling trade. He dwelt, in glowing terms, upon the
absolute necessity of repressing, by every means the law would allow,
that dirty underhand traffic which was the fruitful source of so
much misery.
"Picture to yourselves," he cried, "the amount of injury which this
nefarious trade is inflicting upon the realm beyond the ocean, upon
all India, and especially upon our own beloved island of Java. Think
of the millions which are lost--the millions!--I might say the tens
of millions, and then calculate the amount of good which these tens
of millions might produce if they were allowed to flow quietly and
without check into the national treasury!"
At these words the djaksa, who up to that time had been addressing
the members of the council, turned to the public, knowing well that
this argumentum ad crumenam would tickle the public ear. And he was
not mistaken. The audience consisted for the most part of Dutchmen,
and the tinkle of these tens of millions had a metallic sound which was
strangely fascinating to the hearers. A distinct murmur of approbation
arose, many a head nodded in silent assent and many a voice muttered:
"Hear, hear! If we could but be delivered from that abominable
smuggling!"
These evident tokens of sympathy did not escape the djaksa's watchful
eye, and Mas Wirio Kesoemo did not let so favourable an opportunity
pass without expressing the fervent hope that the judges would not
fail, by their sentence in the present case, to crush the foul reptile
which battened upon the national prosperity. He called upon them,
therefore, to pass upon the prisoner, who not only sat there accused
of the heinous crime of smuggling; but was charged also with the
additional offence of murder, the heaviest sentence which the law
would allow. By doing so, he added, they would earn for themselves
the cordial thanks of the island of Java, and establish a claim upon
the gratitude of the entire Dutch nation.
For a moment it seemed as if the greater part of the company
assembled in the pandoppo, would have given vent to their feelings of
satisfaction by cheering and clapping of hands--one cry of "bravo!" was
distinctly heard; but the usher repressed all such manifestations
with his repeated shout of "Silence--silence in the court!"
The head djaksa now proceeded with the second part of his case against
Setrosmito, that, namely, of having murdered a Chinese bandoelan;
a charge which was inseparably connected with the former one of
opium smuggling.
The entire assembly hung breathless on his lips, as he described
how Setrosmito had resisted the searching of his house; how, when
the fatal box had been discovered, he had hurled an opprobrious name
at Singomengolo and called him a "dirty dog;" how he had, thereupon,
seized his kris and how, when the chief bandoelan fled back in terror,
he had flung himself upon an inoffensive and defenceless Chinaman,
and had drawn the wavy blade of his knife across his throat, while a
stream of blood deluged murderer and victim alike. This description,
graphic almost to brutality in its details, made a powerful impression
upon the audience. One of the ladies present screamed and fainted away,
and had to be carried off insensible. This episode caused considerable
commotion, and Setrosmito cast an anxious glance behind him to see
what was going on.
"Silence! silence!" bawled the usher.
As soon as order had been, in some measure, restored, Mas Wirio Kesoemo
proceeded to dwell on the increasing temerity of the opium smugglers,
who scrupled not to take a human life rather than risk the loss of
their smuggled wares. He insisted upon the necessity of inflicting the
extreme penalty for the protection of the police in the execution of
their arduous duties; and he ended his speech by demanding that the
murderer be condemned to death by hanging, or, if the defence could
establish any extenuating circumstances, that the sentence should be
at least twenty years of penal servitude with hard labour.
A deep silence reigned in the pandoppo as the djaksa resumed his seat,
one might have heard a pin drop, so intensely was that frivolous
crowd impressed by this fearful demand for a human life. A kind of
spell lay upon all, every heart seemed compressed as in a vice. A
general sigh of relief was heard when the president broke the silence:
"Setrosmito," asked Mr. Greveland, "have you heard what the public
prosecutor has said?"
The prisoner looked up with a puzzled expression at the speaker;
but he did not answer a word. The entire case had been conducted in
Malay, of which he did not understand a single word. The expression
of the poor fellow's face showed that plainly enough. The president
repeated his question, which the djaksa, thereupon, interpreted
to Setrosmito. The prisoner cast one look upon August van Beneden,
and upon a nod from the latter, answered:
"Yes, kandjeng toean."
"Have you anything to say in reply?" asked the president.
Another look at his counsel, and then the prisoner answered:
"No, kandjeng toean."
A cry of indignation and horror arose in the pandoppo at the seeming
callousness of the answer.
"Silence, gentlemen! Silence in the court!" shouted the usher.
As soon as he could make himself heard, Mr. Greveland said:
"I call upon the counsel for the defence."
"At length!" muttered Grashuis, with a deep sigh.
"Now we shall hear something very fine!" cried Mrs. van Gulpendam,
with a sneer; but in a voice quite loud enough to reach the young
lawyer's ears.
Van Beneden very calmly rose from his chair, wiped his forehead,
and then, in a clear voice which could distinctly be heard through
the entire pandoppo, he said:
"The trial which is now occupying the attention of this honourable
court is one which is indigenous to the soil of Java. I might
say, indeed, that in no other spot in the world could such a case
arise. There can be nothing simpler, nothing more plain than the
demand of the prosecution! Opium has been smuggled, some one must be
punished for it. A man has lost his life, some one must hang for the
murder. Undoubtedly the law must have its course, and the criminal
ought to be punished. We are living here in the East, in the home of
the law of retaliation--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! This,
gentlemen, is a hard law unworthy of our Western civilisation;
but against it we have the right of inquiry, and our milder code
allows every accused man the right of defence. It is of this right
of defence, that, in behalf of the unhappy man sitting there at your
feet and awaiting his fate at your hands, I now intend to avail myself.
"Now, if the facts were really such as the prosecution has represented
them to be--why then there would be nothing for me to do than to
commend the prisoner to the clemency of the court, or rather I should
say, that I would not, in that case, have undertaken at all the defence
of a cause which my conscience could not justify. I take, therefore,
a totally different view of the matter; and am prepared to lay before
you the grounds upon which I have arrived at a wholly different
conclusion. I beg that you will lend me your attentive hearing.
"But, before entering into the details of this case," continued
the young lawyer, in a voice which clearly betrayed emotion, "allow
me to pay my tribute to the zeal, the devotion, and the undoubted
ability of a man concerning whom I must not speak without reticence,
inasmuch as I am bound to him in the straitest bond of friendship.
"Mr. William Verstork was controller of the district of Banjoe Pahit
when the facts occurred which now claim our attention. Independently
altogether of the action of the Government, he undertook the task of
continuing the investigations which he had initiated. The result of his
inquiry he has submitted to the proper authorities. I ask, why were not
these papers laid before us? Allow me, gentlemen, to pass very lightly
over this most important omission. I could not enter into that subject
without stirring up a pool of iniquity which is immediately connected
with the opium question; and I freely confess that I shrink from thus
occupying your valuable time. For the defence of the unhappy man for
whose interests I am responsible, it will suffice if I now tell you
that the documents to which I allude exist beyond the possibility of
doubt or denial; and that I have here, lying on the table before me,
the authentic copies properly attested and legalised by the Governor
of Atjeh and by the Chief Justice at Batavia.
"You all," continued van Beneden with a courteous gesture, addressing
the public as well as the bench, "you all know William Verstork, and
I would not even mention the noble qualities of that zealous public
servant--there would be no need of doing so--were it not that our
president, Mr. Greveland, has but lately arrived at Santjoemeh. The
interests of my client demand that I should clearly point out to him
that the writer of these documents is universally known as an upright
man, who, in his official capacity, has won for himself the esteem
and affection of all, natives as well as Europeans, that have come
into contact with him. That he is a most dutiful son who, for the
sake of his mother and his younger sisters and brothers, has made the
greatest sacrifices; and that, before this large audience I assert,
without the slightest fear of contradiction, that a more single-minded
and honourable man has never trodden the soil of Netherland's India."
A burst of applause, cheering and clapping of hands followed
immediately upon this general appeal. Mrs. van Gulpendam sat gnawing
her lips with suppressed rage, while the noise drove the usher to
the verge of frenzy.
At length, by dint of much hammering, Mr. Greveland obtained silence,
he rose and said:
"Much as I appreciate this tribute of affection, this spontaneous
testimony to the merits of a distinguished public servant; yet I
must warn the public against such demonstrations either of approval
or disapproval. Should they be repeated it will be my duty at once
to clear the court. Mr. van Beneden, I beg you to proceed."
August had made the most of this interruption, he had wiped his
forehead and refreshed himself with a draught of iced water. He
continued:
"After the fatal evening, William Verstork repeatedly visited
Kaligaweh. He thought he thoroughly knew Setrosmito and remembered
the well known lines of Racine:
'Un jour ne fait point d'un mortel vertueux
Un perfide assassin, un lâche meurtrier.'
But, for all that he determined to sift the case to the very
bottom. He made minute inquiries on all sides, and, as the result
of his investigation, he found that the man who is now sitting there
before you crushed under the load of so terrible an accusation, has
ever been an irreproachable husband, a tender and devoted father,
an industrious hard-working labourer--that he is, in fact, one of
those quiet and submissive villagers of which our Javanese population
is chiefly composed, and which make it possible for an entire race,
which may well be called the quietest and meekest on earth, to submit
to the cruel fiscal yoke we have imposed upon it. I have here, lying
on this table before me, the sworn testimony of the wedono of the
district of Banjoe Pahit. He states that on a certain occasion, when
a loerah had to be appointed for the dessa Kaligaweh, the man most
eligible for the post was this same Setrosmito, especially because
he was known never to touch opium; but that he could not recommend
him for the appointment, because the man could neither read nor write.
"Now, gentlemen, I ask you, how comes it to pass that a man bearing
so excellent a character should be brought up here before you as
an opium smuggler and a murderer? An opium smuggler! At those words
your very looks betray what is passing in your minds. You know well
enough what is going on in this residence of Santjoemeh. You turn away
in disgust at the mere mention of the word 'opium smuggler!' But,
let me ask you, upon what grounds has the prosecution founded this
most serious charge? Why, upon no grounds whatever! The prosecution
has not even attempted to bring forth any proof of the prisoner's
guilt. Their case rests entirely upon the unsupported word of one
of the opium farmer's bandoelans--upon the bare assertion of a vile
wretch whom public opinion holds up to public execration as capable
of the lowest and most infamous perjury. Yes, gentlemen, I repeat it
most emphatically, this charge rests upon nothing whatever but upon
the bare word of Singomengolo, and upon that little box which lies
there in evidence before you on this table.
"But, you all must remember, it is not so very long ago, that, on this
very same table, we had before us a number of those little boxes,
all of them the property of that same bandoelan; and that, on that
occasion, you had to acquit the daughter of the prisoner who was also
charged with smuggling; who was charged with smuggling, mind, by that
same Singomengolo. And how did he attempt to prove that charge? Why,
by swearing that he had seized upon her person a box precisely similar
to that which you now see before you. Again I ask you, what proofs have
we that this box was discovered under the pandan-mat of the couch in
Setrosmito's dwelling? We have none! You hear me, I repeat that word,
we have absolutely no proof of the truth of that bare assertion. But,
on the contrary, for the defence, I have the clearest possible proofs
that it never was there at all. We rely on proofs which are absolutely
incontrovertible. And here, gentlemen, allow me once again to turn
to the sworn evidence of my friend William Verstork.
"'When one of the Chinese bandoelans, accompanied by a couple of police
oppassers, presented themselves at the door of Setrosmito's house
for the purpose of making a domiciliary visit, no opposition whatever
was offered to their searching the place. The only precaution taken
was that they were themselves submitted to a search before entering
the premises. On that occasion no opium, nor any vestige of opium
was found; not even under that very pandan-mat on the couch. The two
oppassers and the witnesses Sidin and Sariman, who were present at
the visitation, have expressly sworn to that fact. Sariman indeed has
sworn most positively that the pandan-mat was twice lifted up, and that
the Chinaman had most minutely examined the pillow which lay upon it.'
"That I think is plain enough, gentlemen, is it not?
"But now, allow me to continue with Verstork's sworn declaration.
"Very shortly after they had left, Singomengolo himself appeared to
search the house. He refused point-blank to submit to the usual body
search; whereupon Setrosmito protested and said: 'In that case, no
doubt, opium will be discovered in my house. I know all about these
dodges.' I have the proofs of all this here before me signed by the
Kabajan of the dessa.
"And, of course, opium was found, gentlemen. It was discovered in
the very spot where the Chinese bandoelan, who was no fool either,
had looked twice without making any discovery. That again is clear
enough, I think.
"Opium smuggler! The court will understand that I fling the odious
accusation far, far away from me. Not indeed because the charge has
not been legally proved; for I know that in these opium-cases very
curious evidence is often admitted; but because my client is innocent,
absolutely innocent, of any such offence; because he is the victim of
one of those detestable conspiracies which, as every one well knows,
are commonly resorted to when some obnoxious individual has to be
removed or some sordid wretch thirsts for revenge.
"Opium smuggler! Yes, the prosecution has dwelt at considerable
length and with considerable eloquence upon the millions, the tens
of millions, of which this illegal traffic is robbing the public
exchequer.
"As the Public Prosecutor made his fervent appeal, every heart was
thrilling with emotion, though it may not perhaps have been of a
very noble kind. And, gentlemen, he was perfectly right. Millions,
yea tens of millions are lost to the revenue! But they are not lost
in the manner the prosecution has so graphically described; they are
not conveyed away in little boxes which hold but a minute quantity
of the drug. The millions of which we heard so much just now--Ah,
gentlemen! need I tell you who are the men that thus defraud the
revenue? Why your own hearts have already pronounced their names,
they are trembling now on your very lips. Those smugglers are not poor
dessa-folk, they flaunt their ill-gotten wealth boldly in the face of
our good people of Santjoemeh; and can afford to keep Singomengolos
to remove out of their path any unfortunate creature who may stand in
their way. Shall I mention these names which are even now on every
lip? Why should I do so? An Attorney General once ventured to lay
his finger on the plague-spot and to denounce these criminals to
the Governor General. What did he gain by it? That is the question
I would ask you?"
The young barrister here paused for a few moments, to allow these last
words, which he had driven home like a wedge, time to sink into the
hearts of his hearers. In the pandoppo the deepest silence reigned. The
assembled crowd sat breathless listening to every word as it fell from
van Beneden's lips. On all those faces there was but one expression,
and it said plainly enough "Aye truly! that is the state of things
which the accursed opium-monopoly has created in this island." After
a short pause, August continued:
"I now pass on to the second and far more terrible charge which has
been brought against my client. Shall I be able to purge him of that
accusation as I know that I have cleared him of the former? Here there
is no question of denial. The facts are all plain enough and are all
frankly admitted. The fatal deed has been done, the grave has closed
over the ill-starred victim; and the weapon, the kris with which the
fatal wound was inflicted, lies there before you on the table.
"The prosecution has given us a shockingly graphic description of
the terrible occurrence, and has painted, in the most vivid colours,
the manner in which that kris was slashed across the throat of the
unhappy bandoelan. It is not difficult to see why so much stress was
laid upon the bloody scene, and why we had the loathsome details so
forcibly placed before us. But yet, gentlemen, I venture to think,
that the cause of my client has been benefited rather than damaged by
this vivid word-painting. For the more painful the impression produced,
the more forcibly must the question arise: 'How was it possible that
a creature of so quiet and meek a nature could have been goaded to
a deed of such unbridled fury?' Again I appeal to the testimony of
William Verstork, and I think it well to tell you that I also have
personally and independently made a careful investigation into all the
facts of this most painful case; and the results of my personal inquiry
I will proceed to lay before you. Yes, gentlemen, I also shall have to
be graphic and realistic; but remember that I am merely following the
example set me by the prosecution. Yes, gentlemen, I also shall have
to enter into harrowing and revolting details; but I shall do so only
because the cause for which I am pleading compels me to that course."
And now the young lawyer displayed a power of eloquence such as had
never before been heard in Santjoemeh--never perhaps in all Dutch
India. He made use of words not only but also of gestures. He "acted"
as Mrs. van Gulpendam spitefully remarked to one of her friends.
Yes, he did enact before his spell-bound audience that tragic scene,
building up the entire drama, as Cuvier out of a single bone would
construct the entire skeleton of some antediluvian monster. He made
them see how the opium-hunters penetrated that peaceful dwelling. He
made them hear how Singomengolo haughtily refused to submit to any
examination. One could behold as it were the ruthless ransacking of
all the poor furniture, one could hear the children crying and wailing
at the licentious conduct of the ruffians who had respect neither
for age nor sex. The entire audience shuddered at the "Allah Tobat,"
the frenzied cry of the desperate mother, and one could see also how,
at his wife's bitter cry, Setrosmito's eye had, for a single instant,
glanced away from Singomengolo, and how the latter had profited by
that instant of distraction to draw forth the box of opium with a
gesture of insolent triumph. How rage and indignation wrung from the
unhappy father an abusive epithet which was answered immediately
by a blow in the mouth. How, stung to madness at that insult,
Setrosmito grasped his kris; how at that fatal moment the cry of
little Kembang had drawn the attention of the father to his poor
little girl; how he had seen her exposed to the hideous outrages of
the Chinese bandoelan. All these events the eloquence of the advocate
conjured up, as it were, before the eyes of his hearers. At the words,
"Let go!" uttered with incomparable energy, the audience seemed to
see the father flinging himself upon the astonished bandoelan, who,
dazed by the very imminence of peril, had not sufficient presence of
mind to desist from his outrageous conduct, and thereupon resounded
the terrible words, "Die then like a dog!" in a tone which filled
the entire pandoppo with shuddering horror.
Even Setrosmito, who profoundly ignorant of the Dutch language did
not understand a word of his counsel's speech, and had for some time
been sitting vacantly staring before him, even he, at length, grew
attentive, lifted his eyes inquiringly to the young man's face, and
then kept them riveted upon him with concentrated intensity. No! the
rich flow of words had no meaning to him whatever; but the gestures
he could interpret quite plainly. He saw the whole tragedy unfolded
before his eyes--he saw his outraged child--he saw the hand of the
speaker go through the very action which cost a human life. With eyes
glittering with excitement he nodded again and again at his counsel,
while thick heavy tear-drops kept trickling down his cheeks. "Yes,
that is how it happened," he murmured audibly amidst the deep silence
to the Javanese chiefs while he stretched out his arms imploringly
towards them.
"And," continued van Beneden, with still increasing fervour, "if now,
after having thus laid before you the bare facts of the case, if now I
turn to you with the question: 'Is that man guilty of murder--who slew
another--yes; but who slew him in a moment of ungovernable rage, and
in defence of his innocent child?' What must be your answer? Is there
anyone here who would cast a stone at him who drew the weapon--and who
used it--to preserve his own child from the foulest outrage that can
be perpetrated in a father's sight? Aye but, 'this is a question of
opium-police!' If I could, for a moment, harbour the thought that
anyone present under this roof would, for the sake of the opium
question, desire to hear a verdict of guilty returned against this
man--why then, in sheer despair, I should be driven to exclaim: 'Woe
to the nation that contains such a wretch--woe to the man, who, for
so sordid a principle, would tread Eternal Justice under foot--such
a nation must be near its fall!'"
The effect of these words was simply indescribable, a shudder seemed
to run through the assembly.
"And now," continued the young man turning to the prosecution, "go on
your way, pile one judicial error upon another, erect for yourself
a pedestal so lofty that the cry of the unhappy victim of the opium
traffic--that insatiable Minotaur--will not reach your ears! The time
will come, when, from above, retribution will overtake you. The day
will dawn when the Dutch nation will awake out of its lethargy and
sweep you and your opium-god from the face of the earth.
"As for you," continued August van Beneden turning to the members
of the council and speaking in a more subdued voice, but yet with a
persuasive energy which it was impossible to withstand, "as for you,
gentlemen, place yourselves, I pray you, in the position of that
unhappy man whose eyes were just now dropping tears as I sketched,
in a manner which could reach his comprehension, the terrible deed
of which he is accused. Picture to yourselves the hours--the days of
mortal anxiety he has passed through, and is even now passing through
as his fate is hanging on your lips--then you will in some measure,
be able to realise the unutterable joy with which he presently will
hail the verdict which you will deliver--a verdict of 'not guilty'
which will restore to his wife and family a man who can so sturdily
stand up in their defence."
Having thus said, van Beneden resumed his seat, or rather fell back
exhausted in his chair. It was getting late, the sun was high up
in the heavens, and an oppressive heat weighed like lead upon the
assembled crowd. For a few moments, absolute silence ensued, the
silence of emotions too deep for utterance and which was broken only
by a sob here and there. But then, a tempest of cheering arose which
made the very roof tremble, and amidst which the stentorian voice of
the usher was completely drowned.
This applause and general enthusiasm continued for a considerable time,
and was not hushed until the president had repeatedly threatened to
have the court cleared.
The prosecution was crushed, utterly annihilated. Feeling that his
cause was lost, the djaksa attempted to have the trial adjourned;
but Mr. Greveland saw plainly enough how very undesirable such an
adjournment would be; and he wisely refused to grant it.
Thus compelled there and then to get up and reply, Mas Wirio Kesoemo
could not rise to the level of his subject. He mumbled a few words
which did not awaken the slightest attention--he said something
about the necessity of vindicating the action of the police, he
uttered a few incoherent sentences, he stammered, he drawled, he
repeated himself over and over again, and finally sat down without
having produced any impression whatever. As soon as he had ended,
the president called upon the defence to exercise its right of reply.
With a gesture of lofty disdain, van Beneden refused to avail himself
of his privilege:
"No, no, Mr. President," he said, "anything I could now add would but
lessen the impression made by the prosecution. It is to the weakness
of the charge brought against him, rather than to the power of the
defence, that my client must owe his acquittal."
After a moment's pause the president turned to the panghoeloe and
asked him what law the sacred book prescribed.
In a sleepy tone of voice the latter replied, "An eye for an eye,
a tooth for a tooth--the man has taken a life--the man must die."
A shriek resounded in the pandoppo, a Javanese woman had fainted away.
The members of the council thereupon retired to their consulting
room. After a while they returned into court and the clerk proceeded
to read out an elaborate judgment, wherein, after a number of "seeing
thats" and "whereases," the verdict of "Not Guilty" on both counts was
at length pronounced. Then the real storm broke loose. A great number
of the audience rushed up to van Beneden and warmly congratulated him
on the victory he had just gained. The president, far from trying to
repress the general enthusiasm, now cordially joined in it. August
raised Setrosmito from the floor and whispered some words in his ear
which were immediately afterwards affirmed by the Regent himself.
The poor Javanese cast one single look at his young champion, he
pressed his hand to his heart and uttered a few incoherent words. But
that one look was sufficient for van Beneden, it was the overflowing
of a grateful heart. At the very bottom of the pandoppo one solitary
voice cried out:
"Great is the justice of the whites!"
A few moments after, the pandoppo was deserted. Said Grashuis to
his friend as he was walking home with him: "By Jove, old fellow,
you have knocked the wind clean out of me--I am still under the
spell. That is natural enough; but what I want to know is how you
managed to get the native chiefs on your side?"
"Very simply indeed," replied the other, "I called upon them yesterday
and read my speech to them in Malay."
"Come, come, that's cute!" laughed Grashuis. The young lawyer, however,
did not tell his friend that, at the conclusion of that visit, the
old Regent of Santjoemeh had pressed his hand and whispered to him:
"You are a noble fellow!"