A Visit from Lord Russell

I was sitting in my cell one day feeling very weak and ill. I was recovering from an attack of influenza, and the cold comfort of my surroundings increased the physical and mental depression which accompanies this complaint. I wondered vaguely why my life was spared, why I was permitted to suffer this terrible injustice, when my sad thoughts were distracted by the sounds of approaching voices. I arose from my seat—which is a compulsory attitude of submission when an authority approaches a prisoner—and stood waiting for I knew not what. Presently I heard the tones of a voice which I can never forget while memory lasts, though that voice is now hushed in death; a voice which, through the darkest days of my life, ever spoke words of trust, comfort, and encouragement. Surely I must be dreaming, I thought, or my mind is growing weak and I am becoming fanciful; for how should this voice reach me within these prison walls? I looked up, startled, and once more thought my mind was wandering, for there stood the noblest, truest friend that woman ever had: the champion of the weak and the oppressed; the brave upholder of justice and law in the face of prejudice and public hostility—Lord Russell of Killowen, Lord Chief Justice of England. He stepped into my cell with a kindly smile on his face, and sat down on my stool, while the governor waited outside. He talked to me for half an hour, and I can never forget the beauty and grandeur of that presence. As he rose to leave he turned toward me, and, seeing unshed tears in my eyes, he took my hand in his, and in his strong, emphatic way said: “Be brave, be strong; I believe you to be an innocent woman. I have done and will continue to do all I can for you.”

It has been denied in England that Lord Russell took any interest in me other than he might in any client he was paid to defend; but the letter which I have already given, written to me at Woking, as well as various statements made by him, and quoted elsewhere, must set that aspersion at rest.

MISS MARY A. DODGE (“Gail Hamilton”),
An American advocate of Mrs. Maybrick’s innocence.

CHAPTER SEVEN
A Petition for Release