Now for the trial itself. The case was opened for the Crown by the Lord-Advocate, in a speech which faithfully represented the excited feeling of the time. It was vigorous to the point of being passionate, and its effect upon the jury was reflected in their ultimate verdict. The Lord-Advocate spoke, as I understand, without notes, a procedure which may well add to eloquence while subtracting from accuracy. It is to this fact that one must attribute a most fatal mis-statement which could not fail, coming under such circumstances from so high an authority, to make a deep impression upon his hearers. For some reason, this mis-statement does not appear to have been corrected at the moment by either the Judge or the defending counsel. It was the one really damaging allegation—so damaging that had I myself been upon the jury and believed it to be true, I should have recorded my verdict against the prisoner, and yet this one fatal point had no substance at all in fact. In this incident alone, there seems to me to lie good ground for a revision of the sentence, or a reference of the facts to some Court or Committee of Appeal. Here is the extract from the Lord-Advocate’s speech to which I allude:

“At this time he had given his name to Cook’s people in Glasgow as Oscar Slater. On December 25th, the day he was to go back to Cook’s Office—his name and his description and all the rest of it appear in the Glasgow papers, and he sees that the last thing in the world that he ought to do, if he studies his own safety, is to go back to Cook’s Office as Oscar Slater. He accordingly proceeds to pack up all his goods and effects upon the 25th. So far as we know, he never leaves the house from the time he sees the paper, until a little after six o’clock, when he goes down to the Central Station.”

Here the allegation is clearly made and it is repeated later that Oscar Slater’s name was in the paper, and that, subsequently to that, he fled. Such a flight would clearly be an admission of guilt. The point is of enormous even vital importance. And yet on examination of the dates, it will be found that there is absolutely no foundation for it. It was not until the evening of the 25th that even the police heard of the existence of Slater, and it was nearly a week later that his name appeared in the papers, he being already far out upon the Atlantic. What did appear upon the 25th was the description of the murderer, already quoted: “with his face shaved clean of all hair,” &c., Slater at that time having a marked moustache. Why should he take such a description to himself, or why should he forbear to carry out a journey which he had already prepared for? The point goes for absolutely nothing when examined, and yet if the minds of the jury were at all befogged as to the dates, the definite assertion of the Lord-Advocate, twice repeated, that Slater’s name had been published before his flight, was bound to have a most grave and prejudiced effect.

Some of the Lord-Advocate’s other statements are certainly surprising. Thus he says: “The prisoner is hopelessly unable to produce a single witness who says that he was anywhere else than at the scene of the murder that night.” Let us test this assertion. Here is the evidence of Schmalz, the servant, verbatim. I may repeat that this woman was under no known obligations to Slater and had just received notice from him. The evidence of the mistress that Slater dined in the flat at seven on the night of the murder I pass, but I do not understand why Schmalz’s positive corroboration should be treated by the Lord-Advocate as non-existent. The prisoner might well be “hopeless” if his witnesses were to be treated so. Could anything be more positive than this?

Q. “Did he usually come home to dinner?”

A. “Yes, always. Seven o’clock was the usual hour.”

Q. “Was it sometimes nearly eight?”

A. “It was my fault. Mr. Slater was in.”

Q. “But owing to your fault was it about eight before it was served?”

A. “No. Mr. Slater was in after seven, and was waiting for dinner.”