Mrs Peixada. Harland Henry

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СКАЧАТЬ to remember that this prisoner is no ordinary criminal, but a lady of refined and sensitive instincts. A little indulgence, it seems to me, is due to her on account of her sex.”

      The district-attorney: “The prisoner had better understand once for all that her sex isn’t going to protect her in this prosecution. The law is no respecter of sex. As for her refined and sensitive instincts, if she has any, I advise her to put them into her pocket. This jury has too much good sense to be affected by any exhibition that she may make for their benefit. I submit the matter to the Court’s good judgment.”

      The recorder: “Madam, you will turn your chair toward the jury, and keep your face uncovered.”

      The district-attorney: “Well, Mr. Martin, what next?”

      The witness: “Weil, sir, I hurried along down as fast as ever I could, and stopped at my own place just long enough to tell my wife what had happened, and to send her up to Mrs. Peixada with a bottle of spirits to bring her around. Then I went to the station-house, and informed the gentleman at the desk of the state of affairs. Him and a couple of officers came back with me; and they, your honor, took charge of the premises, and—and that’s all I know about it.”

      Martin was not cross-examined. Police Sergeant Riley, succeeding him, gave an account of the prisoner’s arrest and of her subsequent demeanor at the station-house. “The lady,” said he, “appeared to be unable to walk—leastwise, she limped all the way with great difficulty. We thought she was shamming, and treated her accordingly. But afterwards it turned out that she had a sprained ankle.” She had answered the formal questions—name? age? residence?—in full; and to the inquiry whether she desired to make any statement or remark relative to the charge preferred against her, had replied, “Nothing, except that I shot them both—Bernard Peixada and Edward Bolen.” They had locked her up in the captain’s private room for the rest of the night; and the following morning she had been transferred to the Tombs.

      The next witness was Miss Ann Doyle.

      “Miss Doyle, what is your occupation?” asked the district-attorney.

      “I am a cook, sir.”

      “Have you a situation, at present?”

      “I have not, sir.”

      “How long have you been idle?”

      “Since the 31st of July, sir.”

      “Prior to that date where were you employed?”

      “In the family of Mr. Peixada, sir.”

      “Were you present at Mr. Peixada’s house on the night of July 30th?”

      “I was not, sir.”

      “Tell us, please, how you came to be absent?”

      “Well, sir, just after dinner, along about seven o’clock, Mrs. Peixada, who was laying abed with a sore foot, she called me to her, sir, and, ’Ann,’ says she, ’you can have the evening out, and you needn’t come home till to-morrow morning,’ sir, says she.”

      “And you availed yourself of this privilege?”

      “Sure, I did, sir. I came home the next morning, sir, in time to get breakfast, having passed the night at my sister’s; and when I got there, sir—”

      “Never mind about that, Miss Doyle. Now, tell us, was it a customary thing for Mrs. Peixada to let you go away for the entire night?”

      “She never did it before, sir. Of course I had my regular Thursday and Sunday, but I was always expected to be in the house by ten o’clock, sir.”

      “That will do, Miss Doyle. Miss Katharine Mahoney, take the stand.”

      Miss Mahoney described herself as an “upstairs girl,” and said that she, too, until the date of the murder, had been employed in Mr. Peixada’s household. To her also, on the evening of July 30th, Mrs. Peixada had accorded leave of absence for the night.

      “So that,” reasoned the district-attorney, “all the servants were away, by the prisoner’s prearrangement, at the hour of the perpetration of the crime?”

      “Yes, sir; since me and Ann were the only servants they kept. Mr. Bolen staid behind, to his sorrow.”

      In the case of each of these witnesses, the prisoner’s counsel waived cross-examination, saying, “If the court please, we shall not take issue on the allegations of fact.”

      The prosecution rested, reserving, however, the right to call witnesses in rebuttal, if need should be. The defense started with a physician, Dr. Leopold Jetz, of Lexington Avenue, near Fifty-ninth Street.

      “Dr. Jetz, how long have you known Mrs. Peix-ada, the prisoner at the bar?”

      “Ever since she was born. I helped to bring her into the world.”

      “When did you last attend her professionally?”

      “I paid her my last professional visit on the 1st of August, 1878; eight days before she was married.”

      “What was her trouble at that time?”

      “General depression of the nervous system. To speak technically, cerebral anemia, or insufficient nourishment of the brain, complicated by sacral neuralgia—neuralgia at the base of the spine.”

      “Were these ailments of long standing?”

      “I was called in on the 29th of May. I treated her consecutively till August 1st. That would make two months. But she had been suffering for some time before I was summoned. The troubles had crept upon her gradually. On the 8th of August she was married. She had just completed her nineteenth year.”

      “Now, doctor, was the condition of Mrs. Peixada’s health, at the time your treatment was discontinued, such as to predispose her to insanity?” (Question objected to, on the ground that the witness had not been produced as an expert, and that his competence to give expert testimony was not established. Objection overruled.)

      “In my opinion,” said Dr. Jetz, “at the time I last saw her professionally, Mrs. Peixada was in an exceedingly critical condition. Although evincing no symptoms of insanity proper, her brain was highly irritated, and her whole nervous system deranged; so that an additional strain of any kind put upon her, might easily have precipitated acute mania. I told her father that she was in no wise fit to get married; but he chose to disregard my advice. I think I may answer your question affirmatively, and say that her health was such as to predispose her to insanity.”

      By the district attorney: “Doctor, are your sentiments—your personal sentiments—for the prisoner of a friendly or an unfriendly nature?”

      “Decidedly, sir, of a friendly nature.”

      “You would be sorry to see her hanged?”

      The doctor replied by a gesture.

      “Or sent to State Prison?”

      “I could not bear to think of it.”

      “You СКАЧАТЬ