MASONIC PHARMACY. A Pathetic Description.

Gisborne Times, Volume V, Issue 106, 14 May 1901, Page 4

MASONIC PHARMACY.

A Pathetic Description.

THE TALUNE TRAGEDY,

A Sydney journal thus describes the defence of Mrs Smith for the murder of Conway:— It was a dismal day when George Reid started his address to the jury. The rain struck the windows with an angry swish. The atmosphere of the crowded court was moist and dull grey, and the only glimmer came from the thin band of gilt along the cornice. Justice Sly sat writing hard and quietly. His associate stared fixedly at the roof, as though his mind were asleep. All around a sea of faces weltered right up to the dull, kharki walls, and stared down from the gallery above. Close to the spikes of the dock a junior eounsqj yawnpfi wearily at the ceiling, as though George Reid were delivering an address on the "Westminster Confession. Behind the green spikes of the cage sat Mrs Smith, dressed in a light brown macintosh, with a brown fur boa, a gem straw hat, and her handerchief covering her face, sobbing, while at the barristers’ table stood George Reidjmttling for her life. And he made a great fight for the life of the terror-stricken, sobbing woman behind the spikes. He gripped the gloomy - looking ease with both hands and buried it beneath a mountain of doubt. Where, he asked, was the motive? People didn’t go about in this work-a-day world slaying others like the Borgias of old, because they took a sudden dislike to them. It was too inhuman and dangerous. If she had slain him for his money why did she stay here till the slow-moving officials had blundered on the supposition that she had done it ? If she had all his cash but the 14s. found upon his body would she not have simply vanished ? Instead of which she stayed on in Sydney and told everyone she spoke to thafp- she came over in -the boat on which gomvay had died so dreadfully, and that, just before his death, she had given -Jiim some biscuits and plums. Why, the woman was stranded here, and to pay her expenses had to raise money from friends and pawnbrokers. She was actually dependent upon Conway, and when he died on board she found herself penniless in Sydney. Conway had, no doubt, lost his money in New Zealand, before he left, and considering that she relied upon him to keep her it was hardly credible she would slay him. She had certainly contradicted herself in some of her stories, but that was in her favor. Any woman who suddenly sees the SHADOW OF A HALTER (his shrill voico simply screeched it) dangling in the distance, not being a hardened poisoner with a plausible story ready for the occasion, would equivocate. Every word site had said in public had been brought up to H-A-N-G her. (The shrill, deafening cry with which George Reid brought out the word “Hang” shook the building and made the jury leap up in affright.) When a person’s N-E-C-KI-S I-N D-A-N-G-E-R she is liable to lose her customary candour and behave in a contradictory manner. The cool, hardened poisoner would have had the whole story thought out to the last detail, to fit in with facts that could bo easily proved. Why, the first idea that she had killed Conway occurred to the police through her own artless prattle. “ Gentlemen, arc you going TO HANG this woman ” (the house tottered as George Reid said “Hang”) “on her own thoughtless words?” Had she premeditated this crime would she have bought porter on board to administer the poison in ? Of course not; she would have taken the means to administer it, as well as the poison, on board with her; No doubt Mr Hamlet was a very able man, I but lie didn’t know everything. Another analyst might liavo flatly contradicted him. The Government Medical officer had first certified that death was duo to a fit having something to do with diseased kidneys. Conway’s kidneys were very diseased. Truly, that medical officer had certified something else later on, but who was to toll if his second certificate was of any more value than his first? Both certificates depended upon what somebody had told him. As for the young man who swore he had watched Mrs Smith take a glass of something to Conway—well, what of it! Mrs Smith never denied that she gave Conway a glass of porter. The only thing was that the young man swore it was about 20 minutes before Conway’s seizure. Well, he was a very young man. If he really saw someone give Conway a glass of something just before the seizure it did not prove that it was Mrs Smith. This very certain young man, of course, could not make a mistake. We arc all very confident when we arc young. The youth was not intimate with Mrs Smith. He did not even know her name, but he saw a woman in the gloonr—a \yoman with a light cloak and a straw hat—stroll forward in the semi-darkness, and sit down beside Conway, and give him a drink. Some weeks later he strolled into a court ancl saw a woman in a light cloak and a straw hat, and was perfectly sure it was the same he saw in the semi-dark-ness. He couldn’t make any mistake—he was a young man, and they never do. The woman wore a light. cloak —so did the other one. She wore a straw hat—so did the other one—were they going to hang (the monosyllable rolled all the way down Oxford-street and fled in its wild vociferousness round Paddington and Bondi) this woman sitting here, because she wore a light cloak and straw hat, and young men were painfully confident ?

And the rain swished down; the woman sobbed on ; outside the green spikes the junior counsel smiled softly at his thoughts as though no woman’s life swung in the balance ; and the shrill voice of K.C. rang through the crowded court to the refrain of hang, hang, hang— death penalty—no hope of mercy —putting the noose round her neck, &c., till the horror of the death sentence and the last grisly scene rose up and smote each juryman to the heart—and the Twelve shuddered.

Could the jury have retired immediately, judging by their faces, Jane Smith might have walked out of the Court a free woman within SO minutes,

But a tall, black-robed figure rose up in the damp, cold court, and with a hard, bass voice commenced to tear away at the masses of doubt George Reid had piled up on the Crown’s case. That lawyer, at least, talked as if absolutely convinced of [Jane Smith's guilt, and he pressed the case against her ruthlessly, and drove homo his points with grim earnestness. The law did not actually require a witness to prove the mixing of the poison with the draught, or there would be few poisoners convicted. If they were satisfied beyond all reasonable doubt that Jane Smith slew Patrick Conway, it was their duty to return a verdict of guilty. And he urged that the circumstances surrounding the case were absolutely convincing. For nearly two hours he pieced up the case against her, and, strange to say, the woman who had sobbed so heart-break-ingly while Reid fqught for her life was more composed while Wade fought as resolutely to have her slain. She sat absolutely motionless, with her hands crossed on her lap, her chin sunk forward on her bosom, the incarnation of hopeless misery, ciuite worn out with the strain. At 11 p.m. the jury retired for the night. The trap-door was lifted, and the woman disappeared down the grave-like aperture with two policemen. Next morning, a few minutes before the chime of 9,80, she was sitting behind the spikes, absolutely white with dread and anxiety. The jury filed in, and she cast one terrified look at them, aud then her eyes dropped and her face blanched even whiter. Every seat was packed, and everyone listened breathlessly to what the foreman of the jury might say. He said there was no chance of their agreeing. The woman’s bosom gave one convulsive heave, and then she sat motionless as ever, The jurymen were discharged, and streamed out; the Crown witnesses were bound over to appear on May 28th, and the crowd in the Court melted away. Once more the trap-door was lifted, and Jane Smith again vanished down the underground passage with a slight trace of color in the drawn haggard face that still had round, plump outlines.