Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 21
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 21
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
Nor is there any doubt to be entertained that the woman's testimony took
the court and the audience by surprise. The judges looked at each other,
and the jury were perplexed. There was only one thing that produced any
solicitude in our writer. He feared the Lord Advocate would lay hands
upon her, as either a murderer or a perjurer, the moment she left the
witness-box. At that instant was he prepared. Quietly slipping out, he
got hold of the woman, led her to the outer door, through a crowd,
called to the door-keeper, who stood sentry, to open for the purpose of
letting in a fresh witness of great importance to the accused; and
having succeeded, as he seldom failed, he got the woman outside. A cab
was in readiness--no time lost--the woman was pushed in, followed by her
guardian, and in a short time was safely disposed of. Meanwhile, the
Crown authorities had been preparing their warrant, and the woman was
only saved from their mercies by a very few minutes.
It is well known, as I have already mentioned, that Jeffrey's speech for
Mrs. S---- was the greatest of all modern orations, yet it was delivered
under peculiar circumstances. When he rose and began, he seemed languid
and unwell. The wonted sparkle was not seen in his eye, the usually
compressed lip was loose and flaccid, and his words, though all his
beginnings were generally marked with a subdued tone, came with
difficulty. Cockburn looked at him inquiringly, anxious and troubled.
There was something wrong, and those interested in the defence augured
ominously. All of a sudden the little man stopped, fixed his eye on one
of the walls of the court-room, and cried out, "Shut that window."
Through that opening a cold wind had been blowing-upon and chilling a
body which, though firm and compact, was thin, wiry, and delicately
toned to the refined requirements of the spirit that animated and moved
it with a grace peculiarly his own. The chill, in consonance with
well-known pathological laws, produced first depression, and then a
feverish reaction, which latter was even morbidly favourable to the
development of his powers. He began to revive; the blood, pulsing with
more than natural activity, warmed still more at the call of his
enthusiasm. He analyzed every part of the cause, tore up the characters
of the prosecutor's witnesses, held up microscopic flaws, and passed
them through the lens of his ingenious exaggeration, till they appeared
serious in the eyes of the jury. Then how touching, if not noble, was
the conduct of that strange witness for the defence--who, a wretched
criminal herself, would yet, under a secret power, so far expiate her
guilt by offering herself as a sacrifice for innocence! Beyond all was
the pathos of his peroration, where he brought home the case to the
jury, as loving husbands of loving wives, and tender fathers of beloved
children. A woman sat there before them--a wife and a mother. She had
undergone an ordeal not much less trying than death itself, and even then
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account