The Trial
Having told the tale of Lucy Morris to the end, the chronicler must
now go back to the more important persons of this history. It was
still early in April when Lizzie Eustace was taken down to Scotland
by her cousin, and the trial of Mr. Benjamin and Mr. Smiler was fixed
to take place at the Central Criminal Court about the middle of May.
Early in May the attorneys for the prosecution applied to Greystock,
asking him whether he would make arrangements for his cousin's
appearance on the occasion, informing him that she had already been
formally summoned. Whereupon he wrote to Lizzie, telling her what
she had better do, in the kindest manner,--as though there had been
no cessation of their friendly intercourse, offering to go with her
into court,--and naming an hotel at which he would advise her to
stay during the very short time that she need remain in London. She
answered this letter at once. She was sorry to say that she was much
too ill to travel, or even to think of travelling. Such was her
present condition that she doubted greatly whether she would ever
again be able to leave the two rooms to which she was at present
confined. All that remained to her in life was to watch her own blue
waves from the casement of her dear husband's castle,--that casement
at which he had loved to sit, and to make herself happy in the smiles
of her child. A few months would see the last of it all, and then,
perhaps, they who had trampled her to death would feel some pangs of
remorse as they thought of her early fate. She had given her evidence
once and had told all the truth,--though she was now aware that she
need not have done so, as she had been defrauded of a vast amount of
property through the gross negligence of the police. She was advised
now by persons who seemed really to understand the law, that she
could recover the value of the diamonds which her dear, dear husband
had given her, from the freeholders of the parish in which the
robbery had taken place. She feared that her health did not admit of
the necessary exertion. Were it otherwise she would leave no stone
unturned to recover the value of her property,--not on account of its
value, but because she had been so ill-treated by Mr. Camperdown and
the police. Then she added a postscript to say that it was quite out
of the question that she should take any journey for the next six
months.
The reader need hardly be told that Greystock did not believe a word
of what she said. He felt sure that she was not ill. There was an
energy in the letter hardly compatible with illness. But he could
not make her come. He certainly did not intend to go down again to
Scotland to fetch her,--and even had he done so he could not have
forced her to accompany him. He could only go to the attorneys
concerned, and read to them so much of the letter as he thought fit
to communicate to them. "That won't do at all," said an old gentleman
at the head of the firm. "She has been very leniently treated, and
she must come."
"You must manage it, then," said Frank.
"I hope she won't give us trouble, because if she does we must expose
her," said the second member.
"She has not even sent a medical certificate," said the tyro of the
firm, who was not quite so sharp as he will probably become when he
has been a member of it for ten or twelve years. You should never ask
the ostler whether he greases his oats. In this case Frank Greystock
was not exactly in the position of the ostler; but he did inform
his cousin by letter that she would lay herself open to all manner
of pains and penalties if she disobeyed such a summons as she had
received, unless she did so by a very strong medical advice, backed
by a medical certificate.
Lizzie, when she received this, had two strings to her bow. A
writer from Ayr had told her that the summons sent to her was not
worth the paper on which it was printed in regard to a resident in
Scotland;--and she had also got a doctor from the neighbourhood
who was satisfied that she was far too ill to travel up to London.
Pulmonary debilitation was the complaint from which she was
suffering, which, with depressed vitality in all the organs, and
undue languor in all the bodily functions, would be enough to bring
her to a speedy end if she so much as thought of making a journey
up to London. A certificate to this effect was got in triplicate.
One copy she sent to the attorneys, one to Frank, and one she kept
herself.
The matter was very pressing indeed. It was considered that the
trial could not be postponed till the next sitting at the Criminal
Court, because certain witnesses in respect to the diamonds had been
procured from Hamburg and Vienna, at a very great cost; they were
actually on their way to London when Lizzie's second letter was
received. Mr. Camperdown had resolved to have the diamonds, still
with a hope that they might be restored to the keeping of Messrs.
Garnett, there to lie hidden and unused at any rate for the next
twenty years. The diamonds had been traced first to Hamburg, and then
to Vienna;--and it was to be proved that they were now adorning the
bosom of a certain enormously rich Russian princess. From the grasp
of the Russian princess it was found impossible to rescue them; but
the witnesses who, as it was hoped, might have aided Mr. Camperdown
in his efforts, were to be examined at the trial.
A confidential clerk was sent down to Portray, but the confidential
clerk altogether failed in making his way into Lizzie's presence.
Word was brought to him that nothing but force could take Lady
Eustace from her bed-chamber; and that force used to that effect
might take her out dead, but certainly not alive. He made inquiry,
however, about the doctor, and found that he certainly was a doctor.
If a doctor will certify that a lady is dying, what can any judge
do, or any jury? There are certain statements which, though they are
false as hell, must be treated as though they were true as gospel.
The clerk reported, when he got back to London, that, to his belief,
Lady Eustace was enjoying an excellent state of health;--but that he
was perfectly certain that she would not appear as a witness at the
trial.
The anger felt by many persons as to Lizzie's fraudulent obstinacy
was intense. Mr. Camperdown thought that she ought to be dragged up
to London by cart ropes. The attorneys engaged for the prosecution
were almost beside themselves. They did send down a doctor of their
own, but Lizzie would not see the doctor,--would not see the doctor
though threats of most frightful consequences were conveyed to her.
She would be exposed, fined thousands of pounds, committed to gaol
for contempt of court, and prosecuted for perjury into the bargain.
But she was firm. She wrote one scrap of a note to the doctor
who came from London, "I shall not live to satisfy their rabid
vengeance." Even Frank Greystock felt almost more annoyed than
gratified that she should be able thus to escape. People who had
heard of the inquiry before the magistrate, had postponed their
excitement and interest on the occasion, because they knew that
the day of the trial would be the great day; and when they heard
that they were to be robbed of the pleasure of Lady Eustace's
cross-examination, there arose almost a public feeling of wrath
that justice should be thus outraged. The doctor who had given the
certificate was vilified in the newspapers, and long articles were
written as to the impotence of the law. But Lizzie was successful,
and the trial went on without her.
It appeared that though her evidence was very desirable it was not
absolutely essential, as, in consequence of her certified illness,
the statement which she had made at the police-court could be brought
up and used against the prisoners. All the facts of the robbery
were, moreover, proved by Patience Crabstick and Billy Cann; and the
transfer of the diamonds by Mr. Benjamin to the man who recut them at
Hamburg was also proved. Many other morsels of collateral evidence
had also been picked up by the police,--so that there was no possible
doubt as to any detail of the affair in Hertford Street. There was a
rumour that Mr. Benjamin intended to plead guilty. He might, perhaps,
have done so had it not been for the absence of Lady Eustace; but as
that was thought to give him a possible chance of escape, he stood
his ground.
Lizzie's absence was a great disappointment to the sight-seers of
London, but nevertheless the court was crowded. It was understood
that the learned serjeant who was retained on this occasion to defend
Mr. Benjamin, and who was assisted by the acute gentleman who had
appeared before the magistrate, would be rather severe upon Lady
Eustace, even in her absence; and that he would ground his demand for
an acquittal on the combined facts of her retention of the diamonds,
her perjury, and of her obstinate refusal to come forward on the
present occasion. As it was known that he could be very severe, many
came to hear him,--and they were not disappointed. The reader shall
see a portion of his address to the jury,--which we hope may have
had some salutary effect on Lizzie, as she read it in her retreat at
Portray, looking out upon her own blue waves.
"And now, gentlemen of the jury, let me recapitulate to you the
history of this lady as far as it relates to the diamonds as to which
my client is now in jeopardy. You have heard on the testimony of Mr.
Camperdown that they were not hers at all,--that, at any rate, they
were not supposed to be hers by those in whose hands was left the
administration of her husband's estate, and that when they were first
supposed to have been stolen at the inn at Carlisle, he had already
commenced legal steps for the recovery of them from her clutches. A
bill in Chancery had been filed because she had obstinately refused
to allow them to pass out of her hands. It has been proved to you
by Lord Fawn that though he was engaged to marry her, he broke his
engagement because he supposed her possession of these diamonds to be
fraudulent and dishonest." This examination had been terrible to the
unfortunate Under-Secretary;--and had absolutely driven him away from
the India Board and from Parliament for a month. "It has been proved
to you that when the diamonds were supposed to have vanished at
Carlisle, she there committed perjury. That she did so she herself
stated on oath in that evidence which she gave before the magistrate
when my client was committed, and which has, as I maintain,
improperly and illegally been used against my client at this trial."
Here the judge looked over his spectacles and admonished the learned
serjeant, that his argument on that subject had already been heard,
and the matter decided. "True, my lord; but my conviction of my duty
to my client compels me to revert to it. Lady Eustace committed
perjury at Carlisle, having the diamonds in her pocket at the very
moment in which she swore that they had been stolen from her. And
if justice had really been done in this case, gentlemen, it is
Lady Eustace who should now be on her trial before you, and not my
unfortunate client. Well,--what is the next that we hear of it? It
seems that she brought the diamonds up to London; but how long she
kept them there, nobody knows. It was, however, necessary to account
for them. A robbery is got up between a young woman who seems to have
been the confidential friend rather than the maid of Lady Eustace,
and that other witness whom you have heard testifying against
himself, and who is, of all the informers that ever came into my
hands, the most flippant, the most hardened, the least conscientious,
and the least credible. That they two were engaged in a conspiracy
I cannot doubt. That Lady Eustace was engaged with them, I will not
say. But I will ask you to consider whether such may not probably
have been the case. At any rate, she then perjures herself again. She
gives a list of the articles stolen from her, and omits the diamonds.
She either perjures herself a second time,--or else the diamonds, in
regard to which my client is in jeopardy, were not in the house at
all, and could not then have been stolen. It may very probably have
been so. Nothing more probable. Mr. Camperdown and the managers of
the Eustace estate had gradually come to a belief that the Carlisle
robbery was a hoax,--and, therefore, another robbery is necessary
to account for the diamonds. Another robbery is arranged, and this
young and beautiful widow, as bold as brass, again goes before the
magistrate and swears. Either the diamonds were not stolen, or else
again she commits a second perjury.
"And now, gentlemen, she is not here. She is sick forsooth at her own
castle in Scotland, and sends to us a medical certificate. But the
gentlemen who are carrying on the prosecution know their witness, and
don't believe a word of her sickness. Had she the feelings of woman
in her bosom she ought indeed to be sick unto death. But they know
her better, and send down a doctor of their own. You have heard his
evidence,--and yet this wonderful lady is not before us. I say again
that she ought to be here in that dock,--in that dock in spite of her
fortune, in that dock in spite of her title, in that dock in spite of
her castle, her riches, her beauty, and her great relatives. A most
wonderful woman, indeed, is the widow Eustace. It is she whom public
opinion will convict as the guilty one in this marvellous mass of
conspiracy and intrigue. In her absence, and after what she has done
herself, can you convict any man either of stealing or of disposing
of these diamonds?" The vigour, the attitude, and the indignant tone
of the man were more even than his words;--but, nevertheless, the
jury did find both Benjamin and Smiler guilty, and the judge did
sentence them to penal servitude for fifteen years.
And this was the end of the Eustace diamonds as far as anything was
ever known of them in England. Mr. Camperdown altogether failed, even
in his attempt to buy them back at something less than their value,
and was ashamed himself to look at the figures when he found how much
money he had wasted for his clients in their pursuit. In discussing
the matter afterwards with Mr. Dove, he excused himself by asserting
his inability to see so gross a robbery perpetrated by a little minx
under his very eyes without interfering with the plunder. "I knew
what she was," he said, "from the moment of Sir Florian's unfortunate
marriage. He had brought a little harpy into the family, and I was
obliged to declare war against her." Mr. Dove seemed to be of opinion
that the ultimate loss of the diamonds was upon the whole desirable,
as regarded the whole community. "I should like to have had the case
settled as to right of possession," he said, "because there were in
it one or two points of interest. We none of us know, for instance,
what a man can, or what a man cannot, give away by a mere word."
"No such word was ever spoken," said Mr. Camperdown in wrath.
"Such evidence as there is would have gone to show that it had been
spoken. But the very existence of such property so to be disposed of,
or so not to be disposed of, is in itself an evil. Thus, we have had
to fight for six months about a lot of stones hardly so useful as the
flags in the street, and then they vanish from us, leaving us nothing
to repay us for our labour." All which Mr. Camperdown did not quite
understand. Mr. Dove would be paid for his labour,--as to which,
however, Mr. Camperdown knew well that no human being was more
indifferent than Mr. Dove.
There was much sorrow, too, among the police. They had no doubt
succeeded in sending two scoundrels out of the social world, probably
for life, and had succeeded in avoiding the reproach which a great
robbery, unaccounted for, always entails upon them. But it was sad to
them that the property should altogether have been lost, and sad also
that they should have been constrained to allow Billy Cann to escape
out of their hands. Perhaps the sadness may have been lessened to a
certain degree in the breast of the great Mr. Gager by the charms
and graces of Patience Crabstick, to whom he kept his word by making
her his wife. This fact,--or rather the prospect of this fact, as it
then was,--had also come to the knowledge of the learned serjeant,
and, in his hands, had served to add another interest to the trial.
Mr. Gager, when examined on the subject, did not attempt to deny
the impeachment, and expressed a strong opinion that, though Miss
Crabstick had given way to temptation under the wiles of the Jew, she
would make an honest and an excellent wife. In which expectation let
us trust that he may not be deceived.
Amusement had, indeed, been expected from other sources which failed.
Mrs. Carbuncle had been summoned, and Lord George; but both of them
had left town before the summons could reach them. It was rumoured
that Mrs. Carbuncle, with her niece, had gone to join her husband
at New York. At any rate, she disappeared altogether from London,
leaving behind her an amount of debts which showed how extremely
liberal in their dealings the great tradesmen of London will
occasionally be. There were milliners' bills which had been running
for three years, and horse-dealers had given her credit year after
year, though they had scarcely ever seen the colour of her money.
One account, however, she had honestly settled. The hotel-keeper in
Albemarle Street had been paid, and all the tribute had been packed
and carried off from the scene of the proposed wedding banquet. What
became of Lord George for the next six months, nobody ever knew; but
he appeared at Melton in the following November, and I do not know
that any one dared to ask him questions about the Eustace diamonds.
Of Lizzie, and her future career, something further must be said in
the concluding chapters of this work. She has been our heroine, and
we must see her through her immediate troubles before we can leave
her; but it may be as well to mention here, that although many
threats had been uttered against her, not only by Mr. Camperdown and
the other attorneys, but even by the judge himself, no punishment at
all was inflicted upon her in regard to her recusancy, nor was any
attempt made to punish her. The affair was over, and men were glad
to avoid the necessity of troubling themselves further with the
business. It was said that a case would be got up with the view of
proving that she had not been ill at all, and that the Scotch doctor
would be subjected to the loss of his degree, or whatever privileges
in the healing art belonged to him;--but nothing was done, and Lizzie
triumphed in her success.