Lewie; Or, The Bended Twig

by Sarah H. Bradford

Mr. Malcolm too, often visited young Elwyn, in whom he was most deeply interested; and his gentle teachings and fervent prayers were eagerly listened to by the youthful prisoner. Mr. W——, his counsel, came often, also, but in his endeavors to keep up the spirits of Lewie and his sister, his manner was so trifling and flippant that it grated on their feelings painfully. He was working as laboriously it seemed, as the enormous fee promised him would warrant, leaving no stone unturned which would throw some favorable light on young Elwyn’s case. Thus days and weeks passed on, and in the midst of increasing agitation and excitement, the day of trial came.

When the brother and sister parted the evening before the trial, Agnes once more renewed the entreaties she had so often made that Lewie would allow her to remain by his side during the painful events of the coming day. But his refusal was firm and unyielding.

“No, no, dear sister, pray do not urge it,” said he. “I know I shall be too much agitated as it is; I do not believe I can go through it with even an appearance of calmness alone; and how much more difficult it would be for me with you by my side. I know I could not bear it. No! Agnes, remain in the village if you prefer it, but do not let me see your dear face again till my fate is decided. Let us pray once more together, sweet sister—let us pray for mercy from God and man.” And when they arose from their knees they took their sad farewell, and Agnes accompanied her uncle to the house of her kind friend, Dr. Rodney, where she was to remain till the trial was over.

XVIII.
The Trial.

“The morn lowered darkly; but the sun hath now,
With fierce and angry splendor, through the clouds
Burst forth, as if impatient to behold
This our high triumph. Lead the prisoner in.”
—VESPERS OF PALERMO.

To say that, long before the hour fixed for the trial, the court room was crowded to its utmost capacity with eager and expectant faces, would be to repeat what has been written and said of every trial, the events of which have been chronicled; but it would be no less true for that. And when the young prisoner was brought into the room, his handsome face pale from agitation and recent confinement, and with an expression of intense anxiety in his eye, all not before deeply interested for the friends of the unfortunate Cranston were moved to pity, and strongly prepossessed in his favor.

Mr. W——, the counsel for the prisoner, was an able and eloquent lawyer. He was a small, slight man, with a high, bald forehead; and a pair of very bright, black, restless eyes. His manner was naturally quick and lively; but he well knew how to touch the tender strings, and make them give forth a tone in unison with his own, or with that which he had adopted for his own to suit the occasion. He had an appearance, too, of being assured of the justice of his cause, and perfectly confident of success, which was encouraging to the prisoner and his friends.

After the necessary preliminaries and statements had been gone through with, the witnesses against the prisoner and in his favor were called, who testified to the fact of the murder, and to the prisoner’s natural quickness of temper, inducing fits of sudden passion, which, even in childhood, seemed at times hardly to leave him the mastery of himself. Friends, school-mates, college-mates, in turn gave their testimony to the prisoner’s kindness of heart, which would not suffer him to harbor resentment; and yet many instances were mentioned of fierce and terrible passion, utterly heedless of results for the moment, and yet passing away quick as the lightning’s flash.

It was shown that he had no ill-will to young Cranston; on the contrary, they were generally friendly and affectionate; that they had been so throughout the evening on which the fatal deed was done. It was at a supper table, when all were excited by wine; and Cranston, who was fond of a joke, and rather given to teazing, and being less guarded than usual, introduced some subject exceedingly unpleasant to young Elwyn. The quick temper of the latter was aroused at once, and he gave a hasty and angry reply. The raillery was pushed still farther; and before those about him had time to interfere, the fatal blow was struck in frantic passion.

“And is this no palliating circumstance,” said Mr. W——, “that God has given to this young man a naturally fierce and hasty temper, which could not brook that which might be borne more patiently by those whose blood flows more coldly and sluggishly? Is there no difference to be made in our judgment of men, because of the different tempers and dispositions with which they were born? Of course there is!—of course there is! It has been clearly shown that there was no malice aforethought in this case; the injury was not brooded over in silence, and the plan matured in cold blood to murder a class-mate and friend. No! on the moment of provocation the blow was struck, with but the single idea of giving vent to the passion which was bursting his breast. And those who witnessed his deep remorse and agony of mind, when he discovered the fatal effects of his passion, as, all regardless of his own safety, he endeavored to restore his expiring friend to life, have assured me, that though they were witnesses of the whole scene, they felt for him only the deepest commiseration.”