CHAPTER II

AT THE NEW BAILEY

For three days public attention had been riveted on another sensational trial that had packed the New Bailey with an excited audience, and filled the report columns of the London papers. It was alleged that a daring and gigantic fraud had been practised on charitable persons, and, what was worse, not merely on persons, but on personages, highly placed in Church and State. Many distinguished victims had gone into the witness-box, and told their tale; and therein, for the time being, lay the main interest of the trial. Again, ladies of social celebrity, eager for a new sensation, had importuned city officials and the Judge himself for the equivalent of stalls to see the show. The Society journals gushingly described their excellent taste--in the matter of dress.

Lord Malvern, the Chief Justice, had come down to try the case, and his counterfeit presentment in various attitudes of wisdom or weariness had figured in the _Daily Graphic_, with those of the prisoners, witnesses, and counsel. In this instance the prisoners themselves were persons of little interest or importance; for it was well understood that they were practically dummies, put forward, and, it was said, well paid for running the risk of capture. There was what the papers call a brilliant array of counsel. For the Crown, Sir John Westwood, Solicitor-General, led three other learned gentlemen, of whom “Bobby” Herrick was the least of juniors; and on the other side were ranged five advocates, the best the Bar could produce or money retain--the leaders being the well-known K.C.’s--Mr Duffus Jacobs, Mr Brill, and Mr Dawson Dalton.

The elaborate nature of the conspiracy had only gradually been unfolded. It was amazing in its audacity; and yet in the minds of those who were specially qualified to read between the lines, there was a strong conviction that something much more serious lay behind. It was proved, indeed, that many thousands of pounds had passed into the coffers of the London Emigration League, but it was whispered that not one-tenth of the plunder had been brought to light or traced. The actual figures were believed to run into scores of thousands, systematically collected under false pretences during a period of ten months and more. Dukes and lesser peers, with bishops, deans, prominent canons of the Church, and City magnates, had been made the puppets of the wire-pullers. As patrons they gave their names as well as their money to this well-sounding scheme, which professed to have for its object the sending of the loafers, wastrels, hooligans, and gaol-birds of the homeland to Canada, Australia, and South Africa. The project found favour, to some extent because it appealed indirectly to self-interest. The growing turbulence of the unemployed and unemployable seriously menaced social order, and the annual expenditure on prisons and workhouses had brought about an enormous increase in the rates.

The scheme of the League, appealing thus to a spurious philanthropy, when once launched, was urged forward day by day under the auspices of illustrious names, and boldly pushed by means of page advertisements in the leading London newspapers. At the Mansion House the Lord Mayor presided over an enthusiastic meeting in support of the League. A resolution, moved by a member of the Royal Family, was received with plaudits and carried with acclamation. Thereafter, from leading assurance offices, and banking houses, and from City men of wealth and influence, munificent donations flowed in thick and fast. These gifts were freely advertised. The first list drew another list, and so forth. The snowball rolled and rolled.

Doubt and suspicion, whispered here and there, were silenced or pooh-poohed. The League stood out boldly in the light of day. Its huge offices on Holborn Viaduct were filled with an army of clerks and typists by day; and by night its name was flashed ceaselessly, like that of a catchpenny soap or tobacco, before the eyes of wondering passers-by. Reports were issued to subscribers throughout the kingdom, who were given to understand that the colonial branches of the League were being steadily developed into working order, and that soon the farms and industries designed to provide honest labour for the outcasts of the crowded mother country would be available for the eager emigrants.

The various colonies indicated were not quite keen in their appreciation of the project. Colonial journals protested against an influx of ex-convicts. Canada wanted population, but it must be population of the right sort; and Australia saw in the scheme a dangerous likeness to the old transportation system, with all the attendant evils of a penal settlement.

An officer of the League complained strongly in the _Times_ of the misunderstanding and obstruction that thus hindered the fulfilment of their meritorious aims. Influential deputations of patrons and vice-presidents went to the Colonial Office, and waited also on the Prime Minister. The Crown agents of the Colonies were interviewed; and, the League, remaining prominently in evidence day by day, drew in, though more slowly as the months went by, additional subscriptions from all classes of society.

Then, suddenly, a bolt fell from the blue. Mr Vandelaire, the owner-editor of the _Detector_, published an article in which he declared in round terms that the whole scheme was an imposture, a colossal fraud in root and branch. He boldly named the leading officials of the League as participators in a nefarious project, and politely informed them that if they considered the article was libellous, his solicitors (the much-paragraphed Messrs Ely & Ely) would be ready to accept service of legal process. Other articles followed, and were eagerly read and quoted. They suggested that there was a rich and reckless man behind the League, the prime mover in a mammoth project of deception; that the officials in question were, for the most part, figureheads; and finally, that robbery was not the real object of this daring and dangerous organisation.

Questions were asked in Parliament, and evaded in the usual Governmental manner. The _Daily Telephone_ devoted columns to the letters of correspondents, some of whom--guileless “constant readers” and others--angrily protested against “malicious attacks upon a great and meritorious scheme,” while, on the other hand, a few vehemently invoked the criminal law and declared that the Treasury Solicitor was a useless functionary unless, in such circumstances, he set the law in motion. Even the law officers of the Crown, sadly injured men who only wanted to draw their enormous salaries in peace and quietness, came in for criticism. Presumptuous persons actually wanted to know what they did for the money. It became quite manifest that the public demanded a prosecution of the League, and meant to have it. Ultimately, and, as it were with infinite reluctance, warrants were applied for and granted.

A prolonged magisterial enquiry resulted, after endless remands, in the committal of the secretary and chief cashier of the League to take their trial at the Bailey. Such was the stage that had now been reached in this amazing drama of the day.

On a certain Saturday in April--five-and-twenty years after Michael White went down into the silence of imprisonment, soon to pass into the greater silence of a yet narrower cell; five-and-twenty years after his son had uttered his savage warning to John Westwood, the sequel was beginning to take shape.

As yet it was a little cloud, no bigger than a man’s hand; but the cloud was destined to grow to vast proportions, blacker and more threatening as time went on, shadowing London with a great terror of darkness, and begetting fear throughout the length and breadth of England.