While Smith asserted his innocence and total ignorance of every thing or circumstance connected with the tragedy, except as it had been told to him, he displayed what was deemed to be a morbid, if not ghoulish, curiosity in even the most minute descriptions of every detail connected with it. He questioned and cross-questioned everyone with whom he was allowed to talk, asking them to tell him of the discovery of his wife’s body, the wounds, the weapon, how it and the bloody shoes and gloves happened to be found, what was said and by whom, the exact position of the furniture in the living-room when Mrs. Garford, and later the officers, entered, the failure to observe footprints on the ground outside the house before all chance-of identifying them had been obliterated by the crowd of human flies attracted by the smell of blood, and the actions of everyone connected, however remotely, with the investigation and his own indictment.
Unlike most men in his predicament, Smith was not only willing, but eager, to talk of the crime in all its phases and consequences, not excepting his own danger of conviction and execution as the possible or probable last act of the tragedy. For this freedom of speech and openly displayed curiosity he was even more severely criticized than are those more “natural” prisoners who take refuge in sullen silence. “Hyena,” “cold-blooded snake,” “degenerate,” “Bluebeard” (ignoring the lack of plurality of wives and crimes), and “bloodthirsty butcher” were some of the mildest of the epithets applied to the accused by the indignant residents of L—, if not of houses of glass.
The feeling of the community, which extended to the surrounding countryside, ran so high against this occupant of the county jail, which formed the basement of the courthouse, that more than once lynching was suggested and, on one occasion, nearly put into effect. On the occasion alluded to, it had only been by the fearless observance of his duty in upholding the majesty and fairness of the law, assumed, in the absence of the sheriff, by the prosecuting attorney, that the prisoner escaped summary and extra-legal execution by the mob. Suddenly appearing before the jail this mob had demanded that the man be turned over to them, with threats of storming the jail if any resistance was made to their entry and seizure of this creature who had so outraged the quiet orderliness and morality of the town’s existence.
As good fortune would have it, for the honor of the county and the impartial administration of justice, the prosecuting attorney happened to arrive at the jail in time to appeal to the respect for law and its orderly processes of those citizens assembled. And, when the mob refused to heed his exhortations to disperse, accompanied by his solemn promise that he would see that justice was done in full measure, to follow this appeal by a threat to shoot the first man who attempted to mount the courthouse steps.
It is probable that it was more the fear that he would carry out his threat rather than respect for the law or confidence in his promise of justice being enforced that finally prevailed upon the assemblage and induced them to relinquish their purpose. The prosecuting attorney was known to be a man who would face any danger for the accomplishment of a purpose he had in mind, or to fulfil any threat or promise he made.
Chapter IV
Smith’s story, which was received with the sneering incredulity its weakness and implausibility deserved, briefly stated, was as follows:
On the evening of November eleventh, when he had been seen walking along the railroad track with his wife, he was telling her of a fishing trip he once had taken up the North Fork. His gestures had been those of explanation of how he had hooked so large a trout that he had been forced to use a club to finally land it. His wife, he said, had been neither frightened nor crying, as her actions had been interpreted to Indicate, but, on the contrary, she had been laughing at what she conceived to be the extravagance and exaggeration of his account.
He had told her the story at that time, because he had arranged to start that same evening, of the eleventh, for another fishing trip to the same part of the river. He did, in fact, according to his statement, leave his home less, than an hour later — that is, about eight P. M. — in order that he might reach the desired location in time to start fishing by dawn of the twelfth, as he succeeded in doing.
He fished, he claimed, all that day and all day of the thirteenth. He started home the morning of the fourteenth, reaching L — about two P. M., the time he was arrested.
He accounted for his empty hands when he returned by saying that he had stopped fishing when he did, having intended to stay at least another day, due to the fact that, while wading waist deep in the river, he had slipped on a smooth stone, fallen, and lost hold of his rod, which had been carried away by the stream. The creel of fish he already had caught, his hat, book of flies and other tackle also had been lost at the same time, owing to his unexpected immersion. He had nearly lost his life as well by reason of the swiftness of the stream and the depth of the pool into which he had stumbled.
Certain dark stains on his corduroy coat and trousers he explained by stating that they were not only months old, but had been made by the blood of fish and game. Under other circumstances this might have been easily credible, since Smith was known to be an ardent sportsman. But the prosecuting attorney reported that, having sent the garments to a chemist for examination of the stains, they were found to have been due to human blood.
To the essentials outlined in the foregoing resume there was added a large number of contributory details against Smith. None of these minor incidents was incriminating in itself, but, taken as a whole, they added considerable weight to the case for the State as assembled and presented by the prosecuting attorney. They included depositions, affidavits and testimony as to actions, words and looks used by Smith on different occasions, extending over a period of several years previous to the tragedy. This history covered, in fact, almost the entire time that Smith and his wife had lived in L—, and even reverting to their residence in another State. These details, while without direct connection with the crime, were skilfully introduced by the prosecution to show that the accused was a man of violent temper, easily aroused; that he was of a suspicious as well as jealous disposition; that he was prone to imagine injuries and insults where none existed or was intended; and that he had small regard for life, animal or human.
It is true that the testimony offered as being proof of the qualities or faults in the character of the prisoner might, with equal reason and justice, be brought against any man of normal impulses and disposition, wrenched, as they were, out of the context of the years during which the alleged incidents occurred. It is more than probable that out of the life of anyone of us there could be taken disconnected circumstances, actions and speeches that, placed in series, and bound together by implication, would convict us of being potential if not actual criminals, or demonstrate that we should be placed in close confinement as hopelessly insane. In life, as in literature, context often supplies the basis or the belief of illusion created.
The only unusual feature of the trial that made its progress especially different from scores or hundreds of other trials for murder was the unique and astonishing refusal of the accused to accept legal counsel for the conduct of his defense upon so serious a charge. Despite the urgings of the Court and the insistence of the prosecuting attorney, the latter making his protests on the basis of his proclaimed desire that all the rights of the defendant should be fully conserved and safeguarded, Smith insisted upon and finally succeeded in establishing his right to conduct his own case without aid from anyone, and so did conduct it.