With the courtroom packed to the doors and several hundred men
and women struggling to gain admission, the actual trial of Mrs.
Dora McDonald, widow of Mike McDonald, commenced. Assistant State's
Attorney Edward S. Day made an opening statement of the case.
Trembling and his eyes flashing, he pointed a finger at Mrs. Dora
McDonald and in a ringing voice denounced her as the murderess of
Guerin.
"Dora McDonald became acquainted with Guerin, who was about 14 years
old. His parents lived a short distance from the McDonald home.
"A friendship between Mrs. McDonald and the boy began, which his
mother and other relatives later tried to end. Three years later the
McDonalds removed to the Drexel boulevard home, but the intimacy of
Webster Guerin and Mrs. McDonald continued.
"At any event, as time passed on, dealing meantime gently with the
woman and developing Web into a young man of more than six feet in
height, the two were seen frequently together. Relatives of both
testified that the two kissed each other; that at times Mrs. McDonald
grew jealous, in all apparent intent, over him; that she wrote poems
and set them to music to show what seemed to be the very depths of a
despairing heart.
"The woman was insanely jealous over him." "He had wandered out from
her love into the light of other women's eyes. Driven to distraction
by the thought that the boy she had taught to love had grown up to
love another, she murdered him."
"No," said the defense. "This woman was the victim of blackmail. First
she had been hounded until she gave way to the big youth, and then
she had paid him money from her hoard in the hope that she might free
herself of him."
Testimony on the blackmail point was clouded by the maze of
recrimination, but the State could not deny that Mrs. McDonald had on
several occasions given the young man money with which to leave the
city, but that each time he had returned "broke" within a few days.
Mr. Day's denunciation of Mrs. Dora McDonald was bitter, but the
defendant appeared to take no notice of what the lawyer was saying.
Dora McDonald sat quietly as if in a trance; the bitterness of
failure, the weariness of defeat, was expressed in every flutter of
her purple-shadowed eyelids as she came before the bar to answer for
the murder of Webster Guerin, January 20, 1907.
Dora McDonald presented a pathetic appearance before the jury.
She was dressed all in black. Not a single bit of lace or white
relieved the somber effect of her funereal widow's garb. In arranging
her hair Mrs. McDonald exhibited a novel idea. The long, deep-auburn
strands were braided into one plait and this was wound over her
temples in a single coil and fastened with coral pins.
In its unaffected artlessness Mrs. McDonald's entry into the courtroom
and her removal of her hat as she sank into her chair was an act of
almost girlish grace. Her long black cloak, satin lined, was thrown
carelessly on a chair.
When she had removed her hat and cloak she looked squarely into the
faces of the jury.