CHAPTER x.x.x.

_The Trial._--_An unexpected Witness._--_A convincing Story._--_An able, but fruitless Defense._--_A verdict of Guilty._--_The triumph of Justice._

The trial of William Bucholz for the murder of Henry Schulte began in the old Court House at Bridgeport on the ninth day of September, and a ripple of excitement pervaded the city. The interest attaching to this case had extended beyond the locality in which it had occurred, and the reporter's table was crowded with representatives of the various metropolitan journals who designed giving publicity to the proceedings of the trial.

The judges, solemn and dignified, were upon the bench. The lawyers, bustling among their books and papers, were actively engaged in preparing for the scenes that were to follow, while the State's attorney, quiet and calm, but with a confident look of determination upon his face, awaited the production of the prisoner and the formal opening of the case.

Bucholz had engaged the services of three lawyers--General Smith, who had acquired considerable fame as an attorney; Mr. Bollman, who had been connected with the case from its inception, and Mr. Alfred E.

Austin, a young member of the bar, who resided at Norwalk.

The sheriff entered with his prisoner, and placed him in the dock, to plead to the indictment that was to be read to him, and upon which he was to be placed upon trial for his life.

He entered with the same careless, jaunty air which had marked his first appearance at South Norwalk, and except for a certain nervousness in his manner and a restless wandering of the eager glance which he cast around him, no one would have imagined that he stood upon the eve of a trying ordeal that was to result either in sending him to the gallows or in striking from his wrists the shackles that encircled them, and sending him out into the world a free man.

He was dressed with scrupulous neatness, and had evidently taken great care in preparing himself for the trial. He wore a new suit of clothes, of neat pattern and of modern style, and his linen was of spotless whiteness and carefully arranged. As he entered and took his seat a suppressed murmur of surprise, not unmixed with sympathy, pervaded the court-room.

The hall was crowded, and a large number of ladies, attracted, perhaps, by that element of curiosity which is inherent in the s.e.x, and perhaps by that quality of sympathy for which they are remarkable, were present, and Bucholz at once became the focus of all eyes and the subject of universal comment and conversation.

From the nature of the charge against him many had expected to see some ferocious-looking ruffian, whose countenance would portray the evidence of his crime, and whose appearance would indicate the certainty of his guilt. Their surprise was therefore unbounded, when, instead of the monster their imaginations had conjured up, they beheld the young, well-dressed and good-looking German who appeared before them, and a strong feeling of sympathy for the unfortunate man was manifested by a majority of those present.

Considerable difficulty was experienced in securing a jury, but at length the requisite number were obtained, and Bucholz was directed to stand up and listen to the charge that had been preferred against him.

A profound silence pervaded the court-room as the indictment was being read. The prisoner paid the strictest attention as the words were p.r.o.nounced:--

"How say you, prisoner at the bar; are you guilty or not guilty?" and he answered in a firm voice: "Not guilty!"

The attorneys eagerly scanned the faces of the "twelve good men and true," into whose hands was soon to be confided the fate of the man who stood before them; but their impa.s.sive countenances gave no indication of the thoughts which occupied their minds. They had been chosen for the performance of a solemn duty, and were evidently prepared to perform it without fear or favor.

Who can fathom the mind of the prisoner or conceive the myriad of vexing thoughts with which his brain is teeming? He exhibits no fear--he displays no excitement--but calmly and quietly and with watchful eyes he gazes around upon the scene before him--a scene in which he is an important actor, and in which his fate is being determined.

Without the formality of an opening address, the State's attorney calls the first witness--Mrs. Waring. This lady details the occurrences of the afternoon and evening of the murder--the facts of which are already known to the reader. She also testified to the friendly relations existing between the murdered man and the prisoner, except upon one occasion, when, shortly before the death of Mr. Schulte, she had heard angry words in their apartments. No importance was attached to this, as the disagreement was of short duration, and their pleasant intercourse was speedily resumed.

The evidence of the two daughters and the son of Mrs. Waring was taken, but they simply confirmed the story as related by the mother.

The various persons who were present at the finding of the body--the physicians who had made the post mortem examination, were examined as to their knowledge of the murder, and the circ.u.mstances incident thereto.

The officers who had charge of Bucholz testified to his extravagances during the time that intervened between the murder and the formal arrest of the prisoner, and to the fact of the money which he had expended bearing the peculiar marks which had been noticed upon it.

Frank Bruner had been found by my operatives, and he identified the watch that had been found as belonging to Henry Schulte. He also testified to the conversations which took place between himself and Bucholz before he had left the service of Mr. Schulte, and also that the old gentleman had called upon him on the morning of that fatal day, and had informed him of his intention to dispense with the services of Bucholz on the 15th day of the succeeding month, and requested Frank to again enter his service; which he had promised to consider before deciding finally upon.

The examination of these various witnesses had occupied two days, and nothing very serious or convincing, except of a circ.u.mstantial nature, had been proven. Bucholz appeared jubilant and hopeful--his counsel were sanguine of acquittal, and even the jurors looked less sternly as their eyes fell upon the prisoner.

The countenance of the State's attorney was an enigma to the lawyers for the defense. Confident and self-reliant, he had marshaled his array of witnesses, and their testimony was a consistent recital of the events relating to the murder and the various circ.u.mstances relating thereto. Nothing definite or convincing had as yet been proven, and the attorneys wondered at the undismayed demeanor of the prosecuting officer.

On the afternoon of the third day, after the examination of two unimportant witnesses, Mr. Olmstead arose, and, addressing the sheriff, said:

"Call Ernest Stark."

There was nothing unusual in the name, and but little attention was paid to the order thus given. The prisoner and the attorneys had never heard the name before, and no uneasiness was manifested upon their faces, but when, in answer to that call, Edward Sommers entered from the ante-room, and stepping upon the witness stand, confronted the court, a change came over the faces of the accused and his counsel, wonderful to behold.

Bucholz staggered to his feet with a smothered expression of physical agony and stood for an instant pressing his hand convulsively upon his brow, his eyes, full of savage but impotent fury, were fixed upon the detective; but this emotion soon pa.s.sed away and yielded to a vague, bewildered expression, as he sank back into his seat, overcome by the feelings which oppressed him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_His eyes full of savage but impotent fury were fixed upon the detective._"]

The attorneys, stolid and immovable, gazed at this unexpected apparition, but long practice in their profession had enabled them to conceal their emotions, however powerful the influence, and, except the first start of surprise, no outward indication was given of their astonishment at the appearance of the detective or their chagrin at the duplicity of their client.

The detective, calm and imperturbable, and apparently unconscious of the important part he was playing in this sad drama, stood there immovable, the perfect immobility of his face undisturbed by the consternation of counsel or the confusion of the prisoner.

Under the examination of the State's attorney, he told his story in a firm, deliberate manner, that carried conviction to the minds of all.

He detailed the various experiences of his prison life and of his intercourse with the prisoner. He related the admissions which Bucholz had made to him, and testified to the influence which he had gradually acquired over the mind of the accused man.

He graphically described their several interviews, and finally he detailed at length the finding of the money of the murdered man, hidden in the places to which Bucholz had directed him.

The silence in the court-room was most impressive. The crowded audience who had at first been amazed at the appearance of the detective, now leaned eagerly forward in their intense desire to hear each word that was spoken. The judges listened intently as the well-chosen sentences, fraught with so much importance to the cause of justice, fell from his lips.

The eager, exulting ring of the voice of the State's attorney as he conducted the examination, and the low, modulated tones of the witness as he gave the damaging answers, seemed to affect all present, and, with their eyes riveted alternately upon the witness and the prisoner, they listened breathlessly as he related his convincing story.

William Bucholz, after the first exhibition of his emotions, sat silent and apparently stunned during the whole of the rendering of this testimony. His eyes were fastened upon the detective witness, but no movement of the muscles of his face betrayed the despairing thoughts within. Silently he sat there--his arms folded across his chest, with cheeks blanched and eyes staring straight forward toward the witness-stand.

Already he sees the hand of impending fate, and as this unexpected web of circ.u.mstantial and positive evidence is being slowly and systematically woven about him, the shadow of the gallows falls upon him, and yet he makes no sign. The resolute will and inflexible nature sustain him firmly under this trying ordeal.

As Ernest Stark related the finding of the hidden wealth of the murdered man which he had secured, an involuntary exclamation of surprise burst from the a.s.sembled listeners, and when he had finished his story a sigh of apparent relief escaped them.

The testimony of the detective had occupied a day and a half in its rendition, and upon the opening of the court upon the succeeding day, the haggard look of the prisoner told unmistakably of the sleepless vigil of the night before. His lips remained sealed, however, and no one knew of the agony of his mind.

Upon the conclusion of the detective's testimony, the money which had been found in the old barn was exhibited in evidence, and, as the earth-soiled pocket-books and the great roll of notes were displayed, eager eyes watched their production. It was the price of a human life, and another life hung trembling in the balance because of it.

Robert A. Pinkerton was called, and confirmed the statement of Ernest Stark with regard to the midnight visit to the barn and the finding of the money.

Paul Schmoeck and another attache of the German Consulate identified the notes produced, and also testified as to its safe-keeping since it had been so miraculously unearthed.

Two important witnesses were now introduced, who proved beyond a doubt that this money was upon the person of Henry Schulte upon the night of the murder. This evidence was necessary, because the sagacious attorneys for the prisoner had already invented a plan of defense, at once ingenious and able. There had existed hitherto no proof that this money which had been found in the barn was in the possession of the murdered man at the time of the tragedy, and Bucholz might only be the thief who had robbed his master during his absence, and not the criminal who had imbrued his hands in his blood.

Henry Bischoff and his son, prominent German bankers, and dealers in foreign exchange, distinctly remembered the visit of Henry Schulte to their banking house upon the day on which the murder was committed.

The father identified some of the notes which had been found in the first package as those which had been given him in exchange for mark bills, and the son identified the gold pieces which had been unearthed with the second package as those which he had given to Mr.

Schulte upon that day. Both pocket-books must therefore have been upon the person of Henry Schulte as he walked home upon that winter's night accompanied by his trusted servant who had robbed and murdered him.

The clothing of the accused man, which he had worn upon that night, and which had been secured immediately after the occurrence of the tragedy and legally retained, were also introduced and identified.

The shirt contained spots of blood, and the pantaloons also displayed evidences of the same crimson fluid.

The prosecution then closed their case, and the defense began.

Undismayed by the convincing character of the testimony which had been given, the attorneys for Bucholz labored diligently and ably to explain away the damaging proofs which had been adduced.

Their cross-examination of the witness who had been known to them as Edward Sommers had been very light; they had not attempted to impeach his veracity or to question the truthfulness of his relations, and while this was a matter of surprise to many at the time, the wisdom of such a course soon became evident.

The princ.i.p.al witness for the State was to be used as a reliable instrument in the hands of the defense, and the testimony of Edward Sommers was to be relied upon to substantiate the theory by which the attorneys for Bucholz hoped to delude the jury and to save their client.

The finding of the money was admitted as the result of revelations made by Bucholz to the detective, but they endeavored to prove that though he might have robbed the old man, it was impossible for him to have killed him.