LORD FAWN'S EVIDENCE.
A crowd of witnesses were heard on the second day after Mr.
Chaffanbrass had done with Mr. Bouncer, but none of them were of much
interest to the public. The three doctors were examined as to the
state of the dead man's head when he was picked up, and as to the
nature of the instrument with which he had probably been killed; and
the fact of Phineas Finn's life-preserver was proved,--in the middle
of which he begged that the Court would save itself some little
trouble, as he was quite ready to acknowledge that he had walked
home with the short bludgeon, which was then produced, in his pocket.
"We would acknowledge a great deal if they would let us," said Mr.
Chaffanbrass. "We acknowledge the quarrel, we acknowledge the walk
home at night, we acknowledge the bludgeon, and we acknowledge a grey
coat." But that happened towards the close of the second day, and
they had not then reached the grey coat. The question of the grey
coat was commenced on the third morning,--on the Saturday,--which
day, as was well known, would be opened with the examination of
Lord Fawn. The anxiety to hear Lord Fawn undergo his penance was
intense, and had been greatly increased by the conviction that
Mr. Chaffanbrass would resent upon him the charge made by the
Attorney-General as to tampering with a witness. "I'll tamper with
him by-and-bye," Mr. Chaffanbrass had whispered to Mr. Wickerby, and
the whispered threat had been spread abroad. On the table before Mr.
Chaffanbrass, when he took his place in the Court on the Saturday,
was laid a heavy grey coat, and on the opposite side of the table,
just before the Solicitor-General, was laid another grey coat, of
much lighter material. When Lord Fawn saw the two coats as he took
his seat on the bench his heart failed him.
He was hardly allowed to seat himself before he was called upon to be
sworn. Sir Simon Slope, who was to examine him, took it for granted
that his lordship could give his evidence from his place on the
bench, but to this Mr. Chaffanbrass objected. He was very well aware,
he said, that such a practice was usual. He did not doubt but that in
his time he had examined some hundreds of witnesses from the bench.
In nineteen cases out of twenty there could be no objection to such a
practice. But in this case the noble lord would have to give evidence
not only as to what he had seen, but as to what he then saw. It would
be expedient that he should see colours as nearly as possible in
the same light as the jury, which he would do if he stood in the
witness-box. And there might arise questions of identity, in speaking
of which it would be well that the noble lord should be as near as
possible to the thing or person to be identified. He was afraid that
he must trouble the noble lord to come down from the Elysium of
the bench. Whereupon Lord Fawn descended, and was sworn in at the
witness-box.
His treatment from Sir Simon Slope was all that was due from a
Solicitor-General to a distinguished peer who was a member of
the same Government as himself. Sir Simon put his questions so
as almost to reassure the witness; and very quickly,--only too
quickly,--obtained from him all the information that was needed on
the side of the prosecution. Lord Fawn, when he had left the club,
had seen both Mr. Bonteen and Mr. Finn preparing to follow him, but
he had gone alone, and had never seen Mr. Bonteen since. He walked
very slowly down into Curzon Street and Bolton Row, and when there,
as he was about to cross the road at the top of Clarges Street,--as
he believed, just as he was crossing the street,--he saw a man come
at a very fast pace out of the mews which runs into Bolton Row,
opposite to Clarges Street, and from thence hurry very quickly
towards the passage which separates the gardens of Devonshire and
Lansdowne Houses. It had already been proved that had Phineas Finn
retraced his steps after Erle and Fitzgibbon had turned their backs
upon him, his shortest and certainly most private way to the spot
on which Lord Fawn had seen the man would have been by the mews in
question. Lord Fawn went on to say that the man wore a grey coat,--as
far as he could judge it was such a coat as Sir Simon now showed him;
he could not at all identify the prisoner; he could not say whether
the man he had seen was as tall as the prisoner; he thought that as
far as he could judge, there was not much difference in the height.
He had not thought of Mr. Finn when he saw the man hurrying along,
nor had he troubled his mind about the man. That was the end of Lord
Fawn's evidence-in-chief, which he would gladly have prolonged to the
close of the day could he thereby have postponed the coming horrors
of his cross-examination. But there he was,--in the clutches of
the odious, dirty, little man, hating the little man, despising
him because he was dirty, and nothing better than an Old Bailey
barrister,--and yet fearing him with so intense a fear!
Mr. Chaffanbrass smiled at his victim, and for a moment was quite
soft with him,--as a cat is soft with a mouse. The reporters
could hardly hear his first question,--"I believe you are an
Under-Secretary of State?" Lord Fawn acknowledged the fact. Now it
was the case that in the palmy days of our hero's former career he
had filled the very office which Lord Fawn now occupied, and that
Lord Fawn had at the time filled a similar position in another
department. These facts Mr. Chaffanbrass extracted from his
witness,--not without an appearance of unwillingness, which was
produced, however, altogether by the natural antagonism of the
victim to his persecutor; for Mr. Chaffanbrass, even when asking the
simplest questions, in the simplest words, even when abstaining from
that sarcasm of tone under which witnesses were wont to feel that
they were being flayed alive, could so look at a man as to create an
antagonism which no witness could conceal. In asking a man his name,
and age, and calling, he could produce an impression that the man
was unwilling to tell anything, and that, therefore, the jury were
entitled to regard his evidence with suspicion. "Then," continued Mr.
Chaffanbrass, "you must have met him frequently in the intercourse of
your business?"
"I suppose I did,--sometimes."
"Sometimes? You belonged to the same party?"
"We didn't sit in the same House."
"I know that, my lord. I know very well what House you sat in. But
I suppose you would condescend to be acquainted with even a commoner
who held the very office which you hold now. You belonged to the same
club with him."
"I don't go much to the clubs," said Lord Fawn.
"But the quarrel of which we have heard so much took place at a
club in your presence?" Lord Fawn assented. "In fact you cannot but
have been intimately and accurately acquainted with the personal
appearance of the gentleman who is now on his trial. Is that so?"
"I never was intimate with him."
Mr. Chaffanbrass looked up at the jury and shook his head sadly.
"I am not presuming, Lord Fawn, that you so far derogated as to be
intimate with this gentleman,--as to whom, however, I shall be able
to show by and by that he was the chosen friend of the very man under
whose mastership you now serve. I ask whether his appearance is not
familiar to you?" Lord Fawn at last said that it was. "Do you know
his height? What should you say was his height?" Lord Fawn altogether
refused to give an opinion on such a subject, but acknowledged that
he should not be surprised if he were told that Mr. Finn was over six
feet high. "In fact you consider him a tall man, my lord? There he
is, you can look at him. Is he a tall man?" Lord Fawn did look, but
wouldn't give an answer. "I'll undertake to say, my lord, that there
isn't a person in the Court at this moment, except yourself, who
wouldn't be ready to express an opinion on his oath that Mr. Finn is
a tall man. Mr. Chief Constable, just let the prisoner step out from
the dock for a moment. He won't run away. I must have his lordship's
opinion as to Mr. Finn's height." Poor Phineas, when this was said,
clutched hold of the front of the dock, as though determined that
nothing but main force should make him exhibit himself to the Court
in the manner proposed.
But the need for exhibition passed away. "I know that he is a very
tall man," said Lord Fawn.
"You know that he is a very tall man. We all know it. There can be
no doubt about it. He is, as you say, a very tall man,--with whose
personal appearance you have long been familiar? I ask again, my
lord, whether you have not been long familiar with his personal
appearance?" After some further agonising delay Lord Fawn at last
acknowledged that it had been so. "Now we shall get on like a house
on fire," said Mr. Chaffanbrass.
But still the house did not burn very quickly. A string of questions
was then asked as to the attitude of the man who had been seen coming
out of the mews wearing a grey great coat,--as to his attitude, and
as to his general likeness to Phineas Finn. In answer to these Lord
Fawn would only say that he had not observed the man's attitude,
and had certainly not thought of the prisoner when he saw the man.
"My lord," said Mr. Chaffanbrass, very solemnly, "look at your late
friend and colleague, and remember that his life depends probably on
the accuracy of your memory. The man you saw--murdered Mr. Bonteen.
With all my experience in such matters,--which is great; and with all
my skill,--which is something, I cannot stand against that fact. It
is for me to show that that man and my client were not one and the
same person, and I must do so by means of your evidence,--by sifting
what you say to-day, and by comparing it with what you have already
said on other occasions. I understand you now to say that there is
nothing in your remembrance of the man you saw, independently of the
colour of the coat, to guide you to an opinion whether that man was
or was not one and the same with the prisoner?"
In all the crowd then assembled there was no man more thoroughly
under the influence of conscience as to his conduct than was Lord
Fawn in reference to the evidence which he was called upon to give.
Not only would the idea of endangering the life of a human being have
been horrible to him, but the sanctity of an oath was imperative to
him. He was essentially a truth-speaking man, if only he knew how
to speak the truth. He would have sacrificed much to establish the
innocence of Phineas Finn,--not for the love of Phineas, but for
the love of innocence;--but not even to do that would he have lied.
But he was a bad witness, and by his slowness, and by a certain
unsustained pomposity which was natural to him, had already taught
the jury to think that he was anxious to convict the prisoner. Two
men in the Court, and two only, thoroughly understood his condition.
Mr. Chaffanbrass saw it all, and intended without the slightest
scruple to take advantage of it. And the Chief Justice saw it all,
and was already resolving how he could set the witness right with the
jury.
"I didn't think of Mr. Finn at the time," said Lord Fawn in answer to
the last question.
"So I understand. The man didn't strike you as being tall."
"I don't think that he did."
"But yet in the evidence you gave before the magistrate in Bow Street
I think you expressed a very strong opinion that the man you saw
running out of the mews was Mr. Finn?" Lord Fawn was again silent. "I
am asking your lordship a question to which I must request an answer.
Here is the Times report of the examination, with which you can
refresh your memory, and you are of course aware that it was mainly
on your evidence as here reported that my client stands there in
jeopardy of his life."
"I am not aware of anything of the kind," said the witness.
"Very well. We will drop that then. But such was your evidence,
whether important or not important. Of course your lordship can take
what time you please for recollection."
Lord Fawn tried very hard to recollect, but would not look at the
newspaper which had been handed to him. "I cannot remember what words
I used. It seems to me that I thought it must have been Mr. Finn
because I had been told that Mr. Finn could have been there by
running round."
"Surely, my lord, that would not have sufficed to induce you to give
such evidence as is there reported?"
"And the colour of the coat," said Lord Fawn.
"In fact you went by the colour of the coat, and that only?"
"Then there had been the quarrel."
"My lord, is not that begging the question? Mr. Bonteen quarrelled
with Mr. Finn. Mr. Bonteen was murdered by a man,--as we all
believe,--whom you saw at a certain spot. Therefore you identified
the man whom you saw as Mr. Finn. Was that so?"
"I didn't identify him."
"At any rate you do not do so now? Putting aside the grey coat there
is nothing to make you now think that that man and Mr. Finn were one
and the same? Come, my lord, on behalf of that man's life, which is
in great jeopardy,--is in great jeopardy because of the evidence
given by you before the magistrate,--do not be ashamed to speak the
truth openly, though it be at variance with what you may have said
before with ill-advised haste."
"My lord, is it proper that I should be treated in this way?" said
the witness, appealing to the Bench.
"Mr. Chaffanbrass," said the judge, again looking at the barrister
over his spectacles, "I think you are stretching the privilege of
your position too far."
"I shall have to stretch it further yet, my lord. His lordship in his
evidence before the magistrate gave on his oath a decided opinion
that the man he saw was Mr. Finn;--and on that evidence Mr. Finn was
committed for murder. Let him say openly, now, to the jury,--when Mr.
Finn is on his trial for his life before the Court, and for all his
hopes in life before the country,--whether he thinks as then he
thought, and on what grounds he thinks so."
"I think so because of the quarrel, and because of the grey coat."
"For no other reasons?"
"No;--for no other reasons."
"Your only ground for suggesting identity is the grey coat?"
"And the quarrel," said Lord Fawn.
"My lord, in giving evidence as to identity, I fear that you do not
understand the meaning of the word." Lord Fawn looked up at the
judge, but the judge on this occasion said nothing. "At any rate we
have it from you at present that there was nothing in the appearance
of the man you saw like to that of Mr. Finn except the colour of the
coat."
"I don't think there was," said Lord Fawn, slowly.
Then there occurred a scene in the Court which no doubt was
gratifying to the spectators, and may in part have repaid them for
the weariness of the whole proceeding. Mr. Chaffanbrass, while Lord
Fawn was still in the witness-box, requested permission for a certain
man to stand forward, and put on the coat which was lying on the
table before him,--this coat being in truth the identical garment
which Mr. Meager had brought home with him on the morning of the
murder. This man was Mr. Wickerby's clerk, Mr. Scruby, and he put on
the coat,--which seemed to fit him well. Mr. Chaffanbrass then asked
permission to examine Mr. Scruby, explaining that much time might be
saved, and declaring that he had but one question to ask him. After
some difficulty this permission was given him, and Mr. Scruby was
asked his height. Mr. Scruby was five feet eight inches, and had
been accurately measured on the previous day with reference to the
question. Then the examination of Lord Fawn was resumed, and Mr.
Chaffanbrass referred to that very irregular interview to which he
had so improperly enticed the witness in Mr. Wickerby's chambers. For
a long time Sir Gregory Grogram declared that he would not permit any
allusion to what had taken place at a most improper conference,--a
conference which he could not stigmatize in sufficiently strong
language. But Mr. Chaffanbrass, smiling blandly,--smiling very
blandly for him,--suggested that the impropriety of the conference,
let it have been ever so abominable, did not prevent the fact of the
conference, and that he was manifestly within his right in alluding
to it. "Suppose, my lord, that Lord Fawn had confessed in Mr.
Wickerby's chambers that he had murdered Mr. Bonteen himself, and
had since repented of that confession, would Mr. Camperdown and Mr.
Wickerby, who were present, and would I, be now debarred from stating
that confession in evidence, because, in deference to some fanciful
rules of etiquette, Lord Fawn should not have been there?" Mr.
Chaffanbrass at last prevailed, and the evidence was resumed.
"You saw Mr. Scruby wear that coat in Mr. Wickerby's chambers." Lord
Fawn said that he could not identify the coat. "We'll take care to
have it identified. We shall get a great deal out of that coat yet.
You saw that man wear a coat like that."
"Yes; I did."
"And you see him now."
"Yes, I do."
"Does he remind you of the figure of the man you saw come out of the
mews?" Lord Fawn paused. "We can't make him move about here as we did
in Mr. Wickerby's room; but remembering that as you must do, does he
look like the man?"
"I don't remember what the man looked like."
"Did you not tell us in Mr. Wickerby's room that Mr. Scruby with the
grey coat on was like the figure of the man?"
Questions of this nature were prolonged for near half an hour, during
which Sir Gregory made more than one attempt to defend his witness
from the weapons of their joint enemies; but Lord Fawn at last
admitted that he had acknowledged the resemblance, and did, in some
faint ambiguous fashion, acknowledge it in his present evidence.
"My lord," said Mr. Chaffanbrass as he allowed Lord Fawn to go down,
"you have no doubt taken a note of Mr. Scruby's height." Whereupon
the judge nodded his head.