Remarkable Rogues / The Careers of Some Notable Criminals of Europe and America; Second Edition

by Charles Kingston

The authorities quickly discounted the theory of escape by the back, and in the end it was generally believed that the girl had come prepared for the tragedy, and that she had dressed herself in such a way that by discarding her outer garment she would look absolutely different from the person who had entered with Barthélemy. She must, therefore, have slipped off her cloak, and mingled with the crowd in the hall, unobserved in the general excitement.

It was a most extraordinary feature of the case that the girl was never seen again. Not a trace of her could be found, and the united exertions of the English and Continental police failed to furnish a clue to her identity. It was conjectured that the girl had left England within a dozen hours of Barthélemy's arrest. As the only person who could have told the story of Mr. Moore's murder and the reasons which led up to it, she would have been a most valuable witness, but, as she did not come forward, the tragedy remained enveloped in mystery.

Collard, the brave policeman, was in a dying condition when taken to the hospital, and as his end was approaching it was deemed advisable that he should give his version of the struggle in the presence of Barthélemy. The prisoner was conveyed to the hospital where Collard, barely conscious, denounced him as his assassin.

The Frenchman stood with arms folded, and steadily surveyed Collard's face. It was merely a pose, of course, but it was a carefully prepared one, for Barthélemy never admitted that the unlucky officer had any ground for disliking him! He described the firing of his revolver as an accident, and declared that when a man is trying to make his escape he is justified in using any weapon to further his ends.

The policeman briefly told how he had tried to arrest Barthélemy, and when the statement had been taken down in writing and read over to the dying man Barthélemy was removed.

Collard died a couple of hours later, and when his death was notified the authorities decided to place Barthélemy on trial for the murder of the policeman, and not for the crime of having killed Mr. Moore. The reason for this was that no one except the girl who had vanished had seen the murder of Mr. Moore, whereas there were several persons who had been spectators of the second murder.

The police now began to investigate Barthélemy's life, and by the time the prisoner came to stand his trial at the Old Bailey were certain that the motive for the murder of Mr. Moore was robbery and nothing else. The mineral water manufacturer was in the habit of keeping a fairly large sum of money in the house, and Barthélemy had evidently brought his female companion with the object of using her as a bait to draw Mr. Moore's attention away from himself. If the merchant should become engrossed in the girl Barthélemy would be able to slip out of the room unobserved and commit the theft. This was what he intended should happen, but apparently Mr. Moore's suspicions had been unexpectedly aroused before Barthélemy could act, and in a vain effort to save himself, and also to obtain the plunder, Barthélemy had committed murder, only to find himself compelled to take a second human life. This was the official version of a tragic interview, but, as it was based entirely on conjecture, it was not universally accepted.

To say that Emanuel Barthélemy enjoyed his trial for murder at the Old Bailey is not an exaggeration. He revelled in the role of first villain in a piece which drew all London. As the hero of the duel at Egham and the subsequent trial at Kingston, he was already something of a celebrity. His achievements in France as a revolutionary were the subject of common gossip, and that they did not belie the character of the man was obvious from the attitude of studied bravado he maintained throughout the trial. He always referred to the double murder as "the affair," and while he politely expressed regret that "the affair" should have caused inconvenience to the policeman Collard, yet he could not in justice to himself, admit that there was anything in his conduct deserving of censure. He had only fired in self-defence, and no one ought to blame him for that.

The decision of the authorities to make the murder of Collard the only charge provided the defence with their one chance. Counsel for the prisoner ingeniously argued that at the worst Barthélemy had been guilty of manslaughter only. He had fired at Collard with the object of facilitating his escape. There had been no quarrel between the prisoner and his victim; they were perfect strangers, and the policeman's death was really an accident, as Barthélemy had only intended to injure him.

Barthélemy held his head high all through the trial, and there was plenty of the "flashing eye" business and gesture of contempt interludes to enliven the proceedings. He took up the attitude of one who does not fear death, and, considering that this was his third trial for murder and that he had escaped twice, he had some reason for assuming that he was not meant to die upon the scaffold.