The Prisoner at the Bar: Sidelights on the Administration of Criminal Justice

by Arthur Cheney Train

"'All right, your Honor,' said I. 'I bow to your Honor's long acquaintance with men and your experience at the bar—of justice.'

"Well, the whiskey and cigars went in, and I could see as the officer brought them through the court-room that the whiskey was the very best King William and the cigars were Havana perfectos. I wondered with some misgivings who was paying for them.

"In about an hour the jury filed in flushed and happy and rendered a verdict in favor of Mr. Sloane. Some time afterwards I happened to be in the court-room and learned from the officer that the jury had stood eleven to one in my favor for over three hours. The foreman, the only one against me, had finally remarked that he was thirsty and had offered to treat the rest of the jury. In less than an hour after the refreshments had arrived the other eleven came over and decided that Mr. Sloane was in the right."

Another judge tells of an experience of his when serving upon a jury in Ireland. The case over they retired to the jury-room and found that they stood eleven to one for acquittal, but that one happened to be a very complacent old gentleman in a billy-cock hat who, with his chin resting upon the head of a thick bamboo cane, announced defiantly that he was ready to stay there as long as anybody. The hours dragged slowly by, evening drew on, and still the old gentleman obstinately held out. The jurors disposed their weary bodies as best they could along the floor and the hard benches, and prepared to make a night of it. From time to time the old gentleman would contemplatively suck the head of his bamboo cane. Finally he fell fast asleep and the cane fell heavily to the floor. Then one of the jurors picked it up and found to his surprise that it was hollow and filled with good old Irish whiskey. They passed the cane around, relieved it of its contents, and then awoke the owner. Slowly he lifted the cane to his mouth, sucked ineffectually for a moment, looked at his watch and then arose with the announcement:

"B'ys! I'm afther changin' me moind!"

A recent trial, Donohue vs. The New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad, illustrates the vagaries of individuals which may seriously interfere with the course of justice. The judge had been particularly careful to elucidate the point of law which the jury were to apply to the facts as they found them. The jury unanimously agreed that the facts were thus and so, but one of their number refused to follow the law as laid down by the court. At first he insisted that the judge had charged differently, but it soon became obvious that this was not the true cause of his indecision.

"Well," exclaimed the foreman at last, on the verge of distraction, "should we go back into court and the judge should instruct you that what we say is the law, would you find a verdict then?"

The juryman hesitated and then announced with deliberation:

"No; not until I had consulted my attorney."

A frankly unscrupulous member of the criminal bar tells the following story at his own expense. His client was indicted for murder and on the evidence apparently guilty. The lawyer's only chance, as he thought, lay in trying to "work it down" to manslaughter, which would get his client off with twenty years' imprisonment. Accordingly he told his clerk to become friendly with the jurymen, treat them to drinks, and see what he could do. The clerk reported that he had become very thick with the twelfth juror, an old Irishman, who had promised to "hold out for manslaughter." The lawyer told his client, and both ceased to worry about the result, as death no longer stared the prisoner in the face. The jury retired and remained out twenty-three hours. At the end of that time, tired, dishevelled, exasperated, they filed into court and returned a verdict of manslaughter. The lawyer warmly congratulated his client. As the jury were separating the old Irishman leaned over to the lawyer and exultantly whispered: