not waive the rule in this case? I feel sure there is something we ought to hear. Let the girl speak.”
I smiled gently at the flattery implicit in her request. Could I, as clerk of court, set aside codified trial law and age-old tradition because an Erwin wished it so? I shook my head. “Even if I were to attempt such a thing, Miss Mary, neither Judge Donnell nor the prosecutor would allow it. You might even find that the lady’s own attorney would wish to keep her silent for fear that with her testimony she might inadvertently condemn herself. She will not speak.”
“Then how can we get at the truth?”
Although I had questioned that very stricture in my own mind often enough, I found myself defending the no-testimony rule to my sister-in-law. “There are those who say that hearing a felon’s sworn statement would not avail the listeners of the truth. Such a custom would merely give the accused an opportunity to perjure himself, and to put his soul in further peril by breaking his oath before God.”
“You think she would lie under oath and be damned for it?” said Miss Mary.
“So it is argued.”
“Is it better that she should say nothing and be hanged for it?”
I had no reply to this, and Miss Mary did not wait to hear one.
When court resumed that afternoon, the prosecutor called more witnesses from the search party that had scoured the woods for Charlie Silver’s remains. No new revelations came to light. The only purpose of the afternoon sessions was to hammer home the two themes of William Alexander’s case: that the murder was pitiless and horrible, and that the defendant had repeatedly lied.
At last, as the afternoon light thickened into evening, he announced that he had no further witnesses to call. Mr. Nicholas Woodfin might now present his case.
I had doubted that Woodfin would call any witnesses of his own. What on earth could they say? No one had said anything to the detriment of the character of the defendant. Those who took the stand had all admitted, however grudgingly, that young Mrs. Silver was hardworking, sober, altogether a dutiful wife and mother. There were no past incidents of violence or wanton behavior to explain away.
Was she mad, then? I could not believe that anyone present in that courtroom would think so. Frankie Silver had sat solemn and silent through the day’s grim proceedings, her behavior unmarked by fits or
laughter, and her person as seemly and fair as a maiden in a church pew. He had nothing to deny then, except the sworn testimony of half the frontier community: Frankie Silver had lied. I saw no way around it unless he put her on the stand, and that he was not permitted to do. A bitter outing for a newly minted lawyer, I thought. God help him.
Nicholas Woodfin took a deep breath as he rose to face the judge. “Your Honor,” he said, “the defense rests.”
Burgess Gaither
VERDICT By the time the shadows were lengthening on the lawn outside the courtroom, both attorneys had concluded their closing arguments. I had spent much of the afternoon gazing out the window at the trees and the clabbered sky above them, letting the words wash over me, as they would surely drown Frankie Silver.
Judge Donnell delivered his own ponderous summary of the evidence and the jurors’ obligations, and then he sent the jury out to deliberate. They would report back promptly the next morning to deliver their verdict. Court was adjourned until then. I wondered if His Honor would sleep any better than the rest of us, awaiting the morning’s decision. Mrs. Silver was led out of the courtroom to return to her cell for a night of dread that could scarcely be worse than the gallows itself. I watched her square her thin shoulders as she paced along in front of her jailer, head high, sparing not a glance for the crowd, and I resolved to murmur a prayer for her that night.
The jurors trooped off to be sequestered in the courthouse jury room, which was little bigger than the wooden table contained in it. For the duration of their deliberations they would be “without meat nor drink nor fire,” as was the custom from time immemorial. Men who are without food or drink will be more likely to reach a prompt decision. While the jury was thus deprived, considering the evidence against Frankie Silver, the rest of Morganton repaired to the taverns to