AT THE NEW BAILEY
For three days public attention had been riveted on another sensational
trial that had packed the New Bailey with an excited audience, and
filled the report columns of the London papers. It was alleged that a
daring and gigantic fraud had been practised on charitable persons,
and, what was worse, not merely on persons, but on personages, highly
placed in Church and State. Many distinguished victims had gone into
the witness-box, and told their tale; and therein, for the time being,
lay the main interest of the trial. Again, ladies of social celebrity,
eager for a new sensation, had importuned city officials and the Judge
himself for the equivalent of stalls to see the show. The Society
journals gushingly described their excellent taste--in the matter of
dress.
Lord Malvern, the Chief Justice, had come down to try the case, and his
counterfeit presentment in various attitudes of wisdom or weariness
had figured in the _Daily Graphic_, with those of the prisoners,
witnesses, and counsel. In this instance the prisoners themselves were
persons of little interest or importance; for it was well understood
that they were practically dummies, put forward, and, it was said,
well paid for running the risk of capture. There was what the papers
call a brilliant array of counsel. For the Crown, Sir John Westwood,
Solicitor-General, led three other learned gentlemen, of whom “Bobby”
Herrick was the least of juniors; and on the other side were ranged
five advocates, the best the Bar could produce or money retain--the
leaders being the well-known K.C.’s--Mr Duffus Jacobs, Mr Brill, and Mr
Dawson Dalton.
The elaborate nature of the conspiracy had only gradually been
unfolded. It was amazing in its audacity; and yet in the minds of
those who were specially qualified to read between the lines, there
was a strong conviction that something much more serious lay behind.
It was proved, indeed, that many thousands of pounds had passed into
the coffers of the London Emigration League, but it was whispered that
not one-tenth of the plunder had been brought to light or traced.
The actual figures were believed to run into scores of thousands,
systematically collected under false pretences during a period of
ten months and more. Dukes and lesser peers, with bishops, deans,
prominent canons of the Church, and City magnates, had been made the
puppets of the wire-pullers. As patrons they gave their names as well
as their money to this well-sounding scheme, which professed to have
for its object the sending of the loafers, wastrels, hooligans, and
gaol-birds of the homeland to Canada, Australia, and South Africa. The
project found favour, to some extent because it appealed indirectly
to self-interest. The growing turbulence of the unemployed and
unemployable seriously menaced social order, and the annual expenditure
on prisons and workhouses had brought about an enormous increase in the
rates.
The scheme of the League, appealing thus to a spurious philanthropy,
when once launched, was urged forward day by day under the auspices of
illustrious names, and boldly pushed by means of page advertisements
in the leading London newspapers. At the Mansion House the Lord Mayor
presided over an enthusiastic meeting in support of the League. A
resolution, moved by a member of the Royal Family, was received
with plaudits and carried with acclamation. Thereafter, from leading
assurance offices, and banking houses, and from City men of wealth and
influence, munificent donations flowed in thick and fast. These gifts
were freely advertised. The first list drew another list, and so forth.
The snowball rolled and rolled.
Doubt and suspicion, whispered here and there, were silenced or
pooh-poohed. The League stood out boldly in the light of day. Its huge
offices on Holborn Viaduct were filled with an army of clerks and
typists by day; and by night its name was flashed ceaselessly, like
that of a catchpenny soap or tobacco, before the eyes of wondering
passers-by. Reports were issued to subscribers throughout the kingdom,
who were given to understand that the colonial branches of the League
were being steadily developed into working order, and that soon
the farms and industries designed to provide honest labour for the
outcasts of the crowded mother country would be available for the eager
emigrants.
The various colonies indicated were not quite keen in their
appreciation of the project. Colonial journals protested against
an influx of ex-convicts. Canada wanted population, but it must be
population of the right sort; and Australia saw in the scheme a
dangerous likeness to the old transportation system, with all the
attendant evils of a penal settlement.
An officer of the League complained strongly in the _Times_ of the
misunderstanding and obstruction that thus hindered the fulfilment
of their meritorious aims. Influential deputations of patrons and
vice-presidents went to the Colonial Office, and waited also on the
Prime Minister. The Crown agents of the Colonies were interviewed; and,
the League, remaining prominently in evidence day by day, drew in,
though more slowly as the months went by, additional subscriptions from
all classes of society.
Then, suddenly, a bolt fell from the blue. Mr Vandelaire, the
owner-editor of the _Detector_, published an article in which he
declared in round terms that the whole scheme was an imposture,
a colossal fraud in root and branch. He boldly named the leading
officials of the League as participators in a nefarious project,
and politely informed them that if they considered the article was
libellous, his solicitors (the much-paragraphed Messrs Ely & Ely) would
be ready to accept service of legal process. Other articles followed,
and were eagerly read and quoted. They suggested that there was a rich
and reckless man behind the League, the prime mover in a mammoth
project of deception; that the officials in question were, for the most
part, figureheads; and finally, that robbery was not the real object of
this daring and dangerous organisation.
Questions were asked in Parliament, and evaded in the usual
Governmental manner. The _Daily Telephone_ devoted columns to the
letters of correspondents, some of whom--guileless “constant readers”
and others--angrily protested against “malicious attacks upon a great
and meritorious scheme,” while, on the other hand, a few vehemently
invoked the criminal law and declared that the Treasury Solicitor was
a useless functionary unless, in such circumstances, he set the law in
motion. Even the law officers of the Crown, sadly injured men who only
wanted to draw their enormous salaries in peace and quietness, came in
for criticism. Presumptuous persons actually wanted to know what they
did for the money. It became quite manifest that the public demanded a
prosecution of the League, and meant to have it. Ultimately, and, as it
were with infinite reluctance, warrants were applied for and granted.
A prolonged magisterial enquiry resulted, after endless remands, in the
committal of the secretary and chief cashier of the League to take
their trial at the Bailey. Such was the stage that had now been reached
in this amazing drama of the day.
On a certain Saturday in April--five-and-twenty years after Michael
White went down into the silence of imprisonment, soon to pass into the
greater silence of a yet narrower cell; five-and-twenty years after his
son had uttered his savage warning to John Westwood, the sequel was
beginning to take shape.
As yet it was a little cloud, no bigger than a man’s hand; but the
cloud was destined to grow to vast proportions, blacker and more
threatening as time went on, shadowing London with a great terror of
darkness, and begetting fear throughout the length and breadth of
England.