Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 21.pdf/482

 The Trial of Madar Lai Dhinagri desks of the sheriffs, are little heaps of dried aromatic herbs, thickly strewn over the carpet of the raised dais on which the Court sits. The ancient object of the bouquets and herbs was to guard against the Court contracting what was known,as "prison fever," and the custom has survived the thorough disinfec tion of prisons and prisoners by modern chemicals. The Lord Chief Justice is dressed in a scarlet gown with a dark blue sash over one shoulder, and, of course, wears the inevitable wig, as also do the barristers, although their gowns are black. His chair is an enormous structure, requiring a little railroad track to enable it to be rolled forward close enough to his desk. With the oak paneled walls and the soft rays falling from the skylight the highly colored group on the bench makes an effective picture. In a few moments Dhinagri's case was called, and, like a "jack-in-the-box," he sud denly appeared in the dock from below with his guardians. He is a little yellow youth with an Oriental cast of features and silky black hair and moustache. His gold-rimmed spectacles leave the eyes hardly discernible, but so far as can be seen they are of a glitter ing black. His meagre physique was clothed in ordinary gray, and one hand was thrust into the breast of his coat, suggesting the idea that he might have there a concealed weapon or perhaps poison, although, of course, he had been carefully searched and guarded. The clerk of the arraigns asked him whether he pleaded guilty or not guilty. He had already stated that he was not represented by counsel or a solicitor. His answer was almost impossible to understand, as he speaks rather broken English, and the newspapers gave various versions of it. Apparently, however, what he said was to the effect that he was not guilty from his point of view because the murder was an act of patriotism. The Lord Chief Justice volunteered leave for the prisoner to sit down, and he after ward sat perfectly motionless during the ninety minutes which elapsed until he was sentenced to death. His head was slightly bent to one side, conveying the impression that, owing to his imperfect knowledge of English, his distance from the witnesses and the poor acoustics of the room, he had diffi culty in grasping all that was said, although the rapid winking of his black-lashed eyelids indicated whenever his intelligence compre hended the different phases of the trial.

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He was asked if he had any objection to the jury, who were already seated in the box, and answered in the negative. Each juror was then separately sworn to try the case of "Our Sovereign Lord the King" against Madar Lai Dhinagri, and thereupon the Attor ney-General opened the case in a detailed speech occupying half an hour. He described minutely how the prisoner had purchased two revolvers and a dagger, which were exhibited, had practised in a pistol gallery at a target about the size of a man's head, which was produced with the bullet holes in it, had gone to the evening reception where Sir Curzon Wyllie, who had befriended the prisoner and his family, was a guest, and how, immediately after his victim had stepped into an anteroom, while Lady Wyllie passed down the staircase, the prisoner had fired four bullets through Sir Curzon's head, had, immediately after, killed Dr. Lalaca, an Indian physician who endeavored to inter fere, and had then tried to kill himself, but without success. The witnesses were then called in rapid succession, and their examination was ex ceedingly brief and very leading, as in all English courts, although somewhat slow, owing to the inveterate habit of English judges to write down every word a witness utters, indicating by the word "Yes," when this laborious record is complete and the court ready for a fresh question. The judge rigorously confined the examina tions to the absolutely essential, and promptly stopped the slightest digression or any un necessary detail. In fact, it seemed as though this was rather carried to an extreme, for the untrained witness may often bring out an important point embedded in much verbosity. At the conclusion of each direct examina tion Dhinagri was asked if he wished to crossexamine. At first he replied by a gutteral "No," but later by a mere shake of the head, and his manner was sulky and to the last degree insolent and defiant. At the conclusion of the evidence the Lord Chief Justice asked the prisoner if he desired to call witnesses or if he had anything to say. He had no witnesses, and it was almost impos sible to understand his response to the other question; but it amounted to this, that he had something to say which he could not remember, but had reduced to writing, and which was in the possession of the police. The Lord Chief Justice asked him whether he preferred to make the statement from the