"ALIEN'S" LETTER FROM ENGLAND. (Specially Written for the Wit-ess Ladies' Page.)

Otago Witness, Issue 2812, 5 February 1908, Page 74

"ALIEN'S " LETTER FROM ENGLAND. (Specially Written for the Wit-ess Ladies' Page.)

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A SENSATIONAL A murder trial can scarcely be called a seasonable topic for the Christmas season, but unfortunately the great' life dramas intrude themselves even at this festive season, and all England has. this week been following with intensest in.terest the trial of Robert Wood, indicted for the murder of Emily Dimock in her xoome -at Ostxn<leaa Town, wrliea^e- tile night -ncr ihroat was cut while she slept, no one in the house having beard any cry or struggle. The young woman passed as Mrs Shaw, and had been living for two years with a man named Bertram Shaw, who was engaged on train duty at night; an^ who, on returning home -after 11 in the morning, found both the sitting room and communicating bedroom 'doors locked and Jie- keys 'missing, and" who on "obtains , ing a key from the\landlady and entering 1-the bedroom . found the murdered girl. I The young man on -whom, suspicion fell ! was a young artist 'designer of 28; of good ' character, who lived with his aged father, i ■ to' 'whom he had always been a devoted son, and the whole of the staff " (65) of the firm where he had been employed for 14 years, including the proprietor, testified to his kindly, amiable, voA honourable disposition. The circumstance which led suspicion to Wood was the publication of a picture post-card which was found in th© girl's room by the police, making an appointment at the Rising Sun, a pub-lic-house, and signed "Alice." The handwriting was recognised by a former sweetheart of Woods, who ultimately, it is supposed, in a fit of jealousy, informed the police, and led to Wood's arrest. Evidence went to show thai Wood had been in the bar, and treated the gir 1 to drinks on the evening of the murder, and he acknowledged sending the post-card, which^circumstance he said he could explain ; but what seemed more suspicious was that he, when first he was suspected, asked his former sweetheart to swear to an alibi, and say .that he was with her till 10.30. Wood's defence was that the alibi was not to clear him of the murder, which was not committed till the small hours of the morning, when be was at home with his fathei and brother, but to clear him of ' the disgrace \pf having been iri^the Wising Sun , at all i with the girl. vHis fattier was ill ; his family greatly respected* tod he r himself esteemed' Highly by all who knew" him, and -knowing himself innocent of the muTder he wanted to escape fche disgrace of "low" company. N The -case for -the -prosecution-- was that he left the wife -"the girl at half-past 10 or 11, and that a witness going to work in the jgrey dawn next morning saw a man who- he thought came out of Dimock's house, wearing, a dark sac overcoat and collar turned vp r who had a peculiar movement of the right snoulder when he walked, /and who had his left hand in his pocket. The former sweetheart said Wood had a peculiar walk, but -his employer, and the whole 65 of his fellow employees denied it. - Wood swore that he had only met the girl three times in the Rising Sun, bad ' never been: to her house in his life, and that the story of bis acquaintance with, her was simple. Shortly before the mur-, der she accosted him in the public-house, -where be had gone for a- drink, and asked him for a penny to put into the gramaphone, i She was dainty in ncr appear- , ance, and intelligent. He said slie asked him for a drink, and el boy came in with 1 some picture post-cards, which she was collecting, and she was going to buy one when he said, ''Don't ; they are inartistic," and told her be had got one with him which was artistic, and which .she might have. They then sat down, and she became greatly interested in bis sketch book, which he had v with him, and asked him if he would write something on the , post -card, and post it> to her to -make ft of -value, and with her looking on, x «nd ha« sketch book for. a rest, he wrote the words which were to arresfc him — "Phyllis, darling" (she aaid ahe was called Phyllis),, "if. it pleases you meet -sb* a^8.16 p.m." 'at the"— he then drew the rising sun-r-"Yours ; to 1 a cinder." > She- then said "her old j man might cut up rough" if % man's name was signed, and he signed "Alice." He ipromiaedl to post it, but forgot, and several days afterwards met the girl by accident, who reminded him he hadn't sent bet the post-card, and that night he posted it. Thai post-card was destined > to be printed in every newspaper in London and placarded with a reward oi £100 offered for information th»t\rould lead to the identification of the murderer. A man named Roberts, who spent the two nights previous to the 'murdef&a-t the girl's rooms, gave information that the girl had put the post-card in a drawer in her chest of drawers, where it was found, and before he left her in the morning, the day before the murder, she received two letters. On one he read the words, "Dear Phyllis, will you meet me at the Eagle 8.30 to-night, Camden Town? Bert." She burnt both letters in the grate. Search revealed some charred fragments which the prosecution endeavoured to fasten on to Wood, but he denied ever having written to her, in his life, and swore that he" lefi'her at half-past 10 -or 11 the night £he was murdered in the small hours of the morning, and before 12 arrived home and went straight to his fathers room, whe*e the old maw was. lying ill, and where his brother was sleepTbe scenes- in the court have been most dramatic, and watching the case from day to day have been a number of famous writer* and actors and actresses, among them Hall Came and Or. R. SSims, Mr Pinero,, Mr George Alexander, and Mr

MURDER TRIAL. Wiliard, and in the privileged seats a number of fashionably dressed ladies. Mr Justice Grantham said that within his' experience never had there been a murder trial of such absorbing interest as that of the gentle-mannered man being tried for the brutal murder of a girl whom he swore he barely knew. Here i^ the soene. where Le is denying- the fetter, th© frag-v ments of which- were Landed to him between glass. Counsel took him by questions through . his movements on the nights of Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday preceding the Thursday on the early morning of which the eirl was murdered. Then Mr Marshall Sail handed to» him the charred fragment of a letter found on the ffltplace of the murdered ,gitl s,,*nom, bearing -writing similar to -the, prisoner's. • The - piec* tff paper; preserved teitween two pieoes of glasa, *ras handed toWood, and he was askedkto ;pic]s out the 'few ' iaolaied -word* that were discernible. He - begaiK to' do so witfi dfficulty, ior h« was m a dun comer of the court. '' Mom> l«ht " s»id Mr Justice •- Grantham. An official ■> brought a peen-shaded electric desk lamp and placed if bn -the ledge of the witneßSbox in front of Wood. ' The light was switched on, and Wood by the aid of the ■ magnifying glass began to pick out th« letters on the paper. j It was'a dramatic picture. The lamp threw out a little circle of brilliant light, in the centre of whioh was the .prisoner, headi bent v over the encased fragment of paper— a vivid figure. The Jamp, placed to his right, lit ud his actions and the play of his features. He was like 4he actor in a theatre with the limelight full upon him in the view of a great gathering. No actor ever thrilled an audience with such effect. During the, morning the prisoner's father, an old and ailing man, with patriarchal beard, had .told in the witness-box of She kindness and affection of his son. During the afternoon he found a seat on the steps of the witness-box. His anxiety throughout the day had. been manifest, and now, with his son telling his own tale in the witnessbox, he sat with. pallid face listening eagerly. / The father's evidence for the defence 'was that his son was home before midnight, and, soon after went to his room. The brother gave similar evidence. A neighbour swore to seeing Wood about 10 minutes to 12 ascend hifi doorsteps a<nd let himself into his father's house with a latchkey. - It was proved that he wore no overcoat that night, had never had one, answering- to the description of that the man bad seen in the dim light coming from Dimock's gate ; and a man who lived three doors off -volunteered the information that, it must have been himself, as be left bis bouse at that time, , and his overcoat answered to the description of the' man, seen. The witness from No. 26 (No. 29 was the scene of- the murN der) said he was engaged on the railway, and left his house on the morning of the crime at five minutes to 5, the time the workman stated he saw a man come down the steps as he supposed from No. 29? You have a, peculiar swing? — Yes, especially in the morning when in a hurry. -Were you wearing that overcoat [he appeared in court wearing a long dark blue coat, rather loose-fitting] ? — Jfes. Will you turn your- collar up, and perhaps his lordship will allow you to put on your hat?— Westoott did as requested, and turned round and displayed a pair of broad shoulders to the jury. At Mr Marerhall Hall's request he took several steps as Hhough walking, and illustrated a swinging gait. Mr Marshall Hall explained that Westoott , had proffered information to Mr Newton and - himself on Sunday. On cross-examination Westcott agreed that the houses 26-29 are 261 yards apart. Francis George Harding, an .acquaintance of Weatoott, and living in the same house, said Westcott had a peculiar gait, a twitching of the shoulders when he walked fast. James Hunter, manager of, the Sand Glass Works in Gray's Inn road, said Wood cam* > to the works a« a boy, and gradually rose by his own exertions. His character was most excellent. / ■ . ... Have you noticed any peculiarity in Bis ! gait?— None, and I am in the habit of seeing the workmen in and out. ' The, .man with overcoat and th« .peculiar walk -had failed to be fastened j upon Wood; "the burnt letter also, al-L-t&ongh. he had been in the Eagle with her. ! There w-as only 'Roberta's word — the man j Who had occupied her rooms the two. nights previous to the murder — to testify to a, written appointment made. The tension in court was great when Wood owned to having been with th« girl in the Eagle. Now 3 want you to come to the Wednesday, the 11th [the night of the murder]. Did you go to the Eagl« public house that night?— I was ai the Eagle. -..„-. T . Did you' meet Dimock there? — No. I met Dimock— or, rather, Phyllis; I have never known her as Dimock— in Camden road. I took her to the Eagle. Had you any appointment to meet her that night? — None whatever. Did you give her a drink? — Yes. When you were there did Mr Lambert com* in?— Yea, shortly afterwards. ~ Did you introduce them?— Yes. How did you introduce her? — As a friend of mine who was a merry girl. Did you mention any name ? — No. Mr Justice Grantham: You knew her name, of course? Wood: Yes, but T never called her by her name. Did you know her name was Dimock OS not then?— No. ' How did you address the post-card?— To Mrs B. c Shaw. t, * How long did you slay in her company that night?— Until about 11 o'clock. \ - . Where aid you. leave her?— ln the Eagkt public house. ' - - - Where did you go?— I returned home, Did you walkt— Yes. ■ " N - How long would it take you? — Well, z suppose it is about half an hours-w alk. Did you go anywhere else on your way" home? — I went straight home. What time did you get there?— Between half-past 11 and 13. When you got home which room did you go into first? — I went straight to my father's room. ' What for?— He. had been Beriously ill. Did you want anything or not? — I always

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,went io take- the clock, but I went to see my father first. ■ Did! you take the clock every night?— lt ■was given to my father for his convenience during the day, he being very ill. I It is an alarm clock, and needs winding up tegularly? — Yes, I wound it up regularly. And the father and brother and neighbour proved he was. there. He had parted with the murdered girl about three hours or so before she was murdered, and 1 at 20 minutes to 8 ifbxt morning he had ' bieakfast in his father's room in the same suit he had worn overnight, cheerful as usual. No 6peck of blood was found on his clothes, although the murdered girl was^saturated with" blood, and the inurdereT haoY washed his hands in the washing basin. The father said : - He came into my room through my room door, not the folding doors. He said a few words to James, then he went into his own i room and locked door. Afterwards I heard nd movement in my son's room. My ' foot was bad, and I did not sleep_well till , dawn. I should probably have heard him if he had gone out again. Next morning, about twenty minutes before 8 o'clock, my son James . got breakfast for him in my room, and he had it there. You saw him at breakfast ?— Yes, I did. j He was no-fc perturbed in any way. He was in his shirt sleeves and wearing slippers. Was he cheerful ?— Yes, he' is of a cheerful -disposition, and has- always- been a kind, good son to me-. - - I " At his work 'he was as usual, with a, steady- hand for. his 'artistic designing, and when the Gambden Town murder was , -announced did not connect Dimoek with Mrs Shaw (Phyllis) until toe newspapers did.' He then feared the disgrace of association .with her, and asked Ruby ! s<Juhg, his former sweetheart, to lie for his sake, and say he was with her that early evening. She promised him ; she swore she- believed him innocent ; that a cruel deed was impossible to him, and ultimately was "frightened, dr jealous and revengeful, because of the "Phyllis Darling" post-card. Anyhow,' she gave him away. On her evidence aatid that of .the workman who thought he recognised Wood from, the description of the man leaving t Dimocks (as he supposed) in the early ! morning, Wood was in jeopardy. But another man swore he was the man in the sac coat, and two other men ' (strangers) swore they saw Dimock going towards her home with a man, taller than Wood, at 20 minutes past 12. And at that- time Wood was with his, father and brother. The sweetheart and the man who_ gave evidence of the morning episode have been subjected to j j>eneectLtion — -"Blood m<aiey" -mritfceri. -up j over the man's door, and the girl in a i most painful scene in court refused the reward for' identification of the post-card i with its author. The last day but one of the trial saw this scene without the court* _ - N . In the street and square outside the court * great" crowd waited all day, some in vain liope of admission, but most of them satis- j fied with glimpses of the leading^ witnesses, J the advocates, the "Judge* and the distinguished! persons privileged to witness 'the zeal dram* going on within. In the darkness at the close of the sitting there must have been 3000 people massed' around the main entrance to the New Bailey, ' and their feelings found expression in cheers j and groans aB names were bandied about. j It w«s not all a low-class crown of policecourt habitues, but an assembly that included all ranks of the working community. It clearly demonstrated the acute and growing public interest in the trial, a deep concern far surpassing what has been observed^in any recent trial for murder. As the leading persons in -the great cause came forth the mass of waiting men. and women, presenting a, sea of faces white and pallid under the electrio light, shouted, , hissed, laughed; or acclaimed, and surged, up to the steps till a brigade of police swung down and bore them across the road — an *ngry, sullen mob. Yesterday, December 19, 'ended tlie trial at 8 o'clock in the evening in the Old Bailey, when amid a scene rarely witnessed in a criminal court Robert Wood' was pronounced "Not guilty." The whole trial was full of strange incidents, but when -the jury returned with their verdict after 15 minutes' ahsence the scene in the court was "unprecedented in the whole history of a court of justice, and which has never before been witnessed." - •' As -the words of the verdict, reached the crowded audience in the court the deathlike- silence was broken ~by roar after roar of applause. Men and women seeznea to lose control of their emotions. Hats and handkerchiefs were waved frantically; women cried 'for joy. In the, uproar and tumult the efforts of the ushers of_the court to repress the frantic demonstration were utterly futile. The surge of cheering rose and fell, and rose again, resisting all check and control. In vain Mr Justice Grantham, seated on 'the mncU in his scarlet robes, raised his hand high above his head, and' mutely motioned to the people to be silent. The cheers could not be stilled. His lordship's ahreat to order the clearing of the court was completely drowned in the tumult. Not till the audience saw the tall and imposing figure of Mr Marshall Hall, the brilliant King's Counsel who has so ably conducted the defence, standing in his place, facing the judge with flushed cheeks, did the extraordinary demonstration cease, or was silence {restored. Then, as men realised that it was his moment of victory, as , counsel for the jprisoner, the uproar died away. "My lord." he said, in a ringing voice, which reverberated throughout the court, " I have to ask yon that the prisoner be discharged." - . "Yes," answered the judge quickly. And tßobert "Woed, who stood waiting for the -word, at once swung alertly on his heel ana Deft the dock. The most dramatic moment in the greatest anurder trial of recent years was reached at itwenty-flve minutes past G, when Mr Justice Grantham swung himself round in his seat Jso as to face the jury, and began to sum up J|he results of the six days' proceedings. ■ Sir Charles Mathews had just concluded a- clear, ieold presentment of the case for the prosecution. Be-fore that for two hours and a-half Mr Marshall Hall had pleaded with passionate eloquence for the prisoner's acquittal. The first words of the judge's charge would jnv« some indication of the- fate in store for ■the man in the dock. The court, packed in every corner, was now in a state of the jextremest tension. Here and there, involuntarily, txople stood up to catch the words. Mr Justice Grantham began with the regnark that the trial was the most remarkable ' lie in his whole experience. He told them

in effect that the witness M'Cowan, who was alleged to have seen "Wood in St. Paul's road on the fatal ' morning was the man whose eyidence, if sufficiently strong, must guide I them very largely. But was his svidence of identification sufficiently strong? "I do not think the prosecution have brought the case near enough to the prisoner " The judge had not finished his sentence, nut the pent-up excitement of the crowded I court found vent in a crash of applause. I, " Silence !" cried the ushers, and! for a moment -the cheers were smothered. The judge went on — " with the -exception of , M'Cowan." But even M'Cowan's identification was in his opinion not sufficiently definite. "It is my duty to. point out," he saitj, "that, unless evidencp is convincing, you ought to give the prison*; the benefit of any doubt." Audible sighs of relief went up. Cheerful whispers ran' round the court. The colour showed- again in the cheeks of the -prisoner in the dock. j % -The jury retired to their room. All eyes in the standing throng were focivesed on the pale, slim figure in the middle of the court, , for whom the issue of life or death was now being debated by the twelve men who had just gone out. That young- man, after running his glance quizzically over, the scores . of excited faces on a)l sides of him, seated himself in the chair towards the front of the i dock, drew some sheets of paper out. of his coat pocket, and,- picking up a pencil frony the ledge in front of him, began to 'study with an artistfs caie the face of the judge. Mr Justice G-rantham was still chatting with | the alderman, and was quite unconscious of "Wood's scrutiny; " Slowly "and carefully the prisoner began to sketch* the judge. No thought of his fate troubled him. - *"■* * i With the closest c,are Wood co,uld,b© seen dotting in the outline of the judge's face. He- looked from the paper to his model, from model to paper. The proper proportions and a -true perspective' were - obviously his' only care. He thought of nothing else, while the gathering around him thrilled with the thought that in a matter of minutes it would be decided whether the artist was to live or die. " ' , • Then -<he dramatic picture was broken by a. warder who touched Wood on the shoulder. > with the apparent suggestion that he should | retire from the court for a time. Wood slipped! his sketch in his pocket and. witK smiling face, turned to leave the dock. His eye caught a friend in the back of the court and he flung his hand cheerily above his head, with a "Hello."- He was only' out of sight a few ; minutes, returning to the dock about five minutes to eight. The jury came back after 15 minutes' consultation. "Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?" they were asked. " Not guilty," exclaimed ihe foreman in i loud, clear tones. "Then broke forth the storm which judge and officials were powerless to check. Wood sprang forward, reached over the dock, and' grasped Mr Newton, his solicitor, by the hand. The strained feelings of j a hundred people were let loose, and uproar 1 reigned. When Wood tad lef-iX tie Jock I laflies were wiping away the tears which i only came now the crisis was over. As the people filtered out of court down I to the central hall there came up -tckthem hoarse, rolling cheers from the streets, and ". through the windows they caught a. glimpse of frenzied throngs waving hats and handkerchiefs. The scenes outside tlie oou-rt Were iri'describable. Vptfiin half a minute the verdict was known .in. the street;" and a peat cheer toee /from the many thousands who had been waiting not only on that winter's afternoon and evening withstrained and aniious faces, but also on , the previous evening — waiting for the" i word that should -condemn or re- . | lease a human life. There is something to warm the heart in the knowledge 'that one human is of so much value to another that such a scene is possible in the Great Babylon, tnd Londoners must be acquitted of coldnesß. For half an hour the cheering went on, and spread as the news spread. Time after time the crowd tried to charge the courthouse to get to Wood, and reinforcements of the police to 300 were necessary, and at- last a ruse was resorted to to induce the crowd to disperse by reporting that Wood had left the court, and many of those cheering and singing "For he's a jolly good fellow" went in hundreds to WotxTs house, where they stood in the street cheering and singing till late. The gixl who had given her lover to thex. police has passed through a terrible ordeal ; the • crowd that cheered the man was waiting to hiss her, and she had to be taken, out of court disguised as a wardress— with a strong bodyguard of detectives. A solid phalanx of police marched out -of the front door, and while the crowd surged round the body of police she safely and in great agitation escaped. . She complains bitterly that her life has been threatened because she spoke the truth when she recognised Wood's,. hand-writing on the Rising Sun post-card, and told that he had. asked her to swear she was with him ,at the time he was at the Eagle with Dimock. Interviewed after the trial Wood gave his impressions : — " The dominating impression of the trial ? Ah! let me -think. Yes — fairness, complete fairness— that is my impression. The dignity of this great tribunal, sank into my thoughts. I felt all the time, even during the fluctuations of the evidence, *nd of adverse and! favourable points, that I should be fairly treated,, that justice would be meted out to me. It was a comforting thought, a thought that fingered with me when I had left that court and -whs able to reflect for a while. I snail never forget the scrupulous fairness with which, every fact was noted down, whether it told in my favour or was adverse. " Sometimes as I sat in the great dock I -would suddenly feeL alone, remote from the little knot of men who argued and fought ' fiercely with words. I forgot the eyes and opera glasses which perpetually Bcannedi me. Those spectators! Some looked at me encouragingly; others seemed -to think it was a. -play, and I— merely an actor. The many theatrical celebrities who witched m» seemed to do so with' * deep and abiding interest. "Mr Hall Cain'e I 'particularly observed. He was intensely interested in the scene, sitting quietly,, but keenly observant. . .-. "I could ga*h« little from the jury as they listened. They- 4 seemed a very' competent body of men,, and showed aIL through tnehearing the greatest seriousness. They were continually making notes and consulting each other. Many of- the people had l an appearance of being frightened. Yet the situation was so intense that several haot handkerchiefs to ■ their eyes as they waited. I saw many men sketching me, and I could not help smiling, for some of them I knew well. " The crucial moment of the tri*l to me was when the jury returned from their de- ' liberations. I had been' for a brief spell below stairs. Ward*rs chatted to me, no doubt

to relieve the tension, of my thoughts. Tfr timej curiously enough, did not seem lr I estimated it "at a quarter of an hour I was not far wrong. And then my s>came! " I was in an instant facing a court that was still as death. My eyes — all eyes — were turned to the jurymen. In an instant, by some curious intuition, I seemed to feel that their verdict would be adverse. "It was .a terrible moment. The jurymen's faces were so pale. Some trembled.^ The hands s of one man as I watched him" were shaking violently. The warders round me shared my instinctive fear. And then I heard the words ' Not guilty.' " What were my thoughts ? I cannot say. Honestly, I cannot say! There are moments, I suppose, when a- great ordeal paralyses one's nerves, numbs one's brain. Such a moment was this — the culminating moment of weeks of tense expectancy, weeks of alternate hope and doubt."