University of Virginia Library

53. CHAPTER LIII.
THE TRIAL.

COURT-DAY drew near, and public interest increased
accordingly. The speculation of the
public was abundant,—the more so for the
mystery that clothed the government case. It was said
that Mrs. Calloran had been discharged, for want of evidence
to show any thing against her. The Roman Catholic
public reported that she had been first tampered with
to turn King's evidence; but had refused “to go nigh
wan o' their courts to testify, as they call it, good or bad;
no, not if they take the life of me itself.” What there
might be against the Priest, no man could say; but it was
generally affirmed, by those of his own religion, that the
government would break down at the trial.

The reader need not be reminded what excitement
there must have been in Peterport, and generally among
all Protestants. The Stipendiary, Mr. Naughton, (who
knew something of the inner things of law,) assured the
Minister, “They'll never be able to convict him, sir;”
but most Protestants said, “they've murdered her, too;
and they ought to be hung for it.”

Ladford, meantime, (for so we call him still,) was not
at home. He had sent a short note to Mr. Wellon from
Castle-Bay, from which it appeared that it had been

made necessary for the poor man to hide again, but that
he would be heard from when he was needed; and since
that time no word had come from him. His pardon was
all ready for him, but he did not come.

Up to the last day,—up to the last moment of the day
before the one appointed, he was looked for, but he did
not come; and there were no certain tidings from him.
The nearest approach that could be made to him was
this: In New-Harbor there had been a man called
Lane, and there supposed to be a deserter from a man-of-war,—otherwise
answering to the description of Ladford,
—he had shipped, with others, in the schooner Ice-Blink,
for a short trip along shore, and the schooner
had not since been heard from; and great fears were
felt for her. The Roman Catholics said that God's
judgment had come down upon him; the Protestants
began to mutter that he had had foul play. Meantime,
so great was the excitement, and so strong was the public
pressure, that it would not have been safe to have adjourned
the trial. “It was thought best” (the Attorney-general
told Mr. Wellon) “to call the case on, and if, at
the last moment, the chief witness did not come, then the
crown-counsel should throw it up, in open court. If the
Priest were convicted on this charge, he would be safe
for a trial for murder, when that body should be found.”

In the late evening came intelligence from a vessel just
arrived in St. John's, that she had passed outside a brig
having the Ice-Blink's crew on board.

The morning of the Fifteenth opened clear and bright;
the day went clearly and brightly on; but such was the
excitement and occupation of the town that few could
have heeded the face of the fair sky.

The judges (Chief Justice and the two Assistants) had

been punctual to the day, and were all here. Whoever
knows the trumpeters and javelin-men of the English
Circuit, and the tremendous authority of the Bench, and
long array of learned and practised members of the Bar,
must change his notions to adapt them here. There was
as good a chance of getting justice here, however, as any
where in England.

A large storehouse,—furnished with two long deal
tables, for the judges and lawyers, respectively; with
mahogany chairs for the former; such as could be had
for the latter; and, for the public, benches and boxes, as
far as they could go,—served for the court-room;—and
there was Father Nicholas Crampton, and Mrs. Bridget
Calloran, also, in the custody of the officer to stand their
trial.—Skipper George was not present; Father Terence
sat there, grave and perplexed-looking; and not far from
him sat Mr. Wellon, thoughtful and anxious, and looking
often to the door.

Proclamation was made; commissions read; all formal
ceremonies, (considerably abridged in number and amount
from the “home”-standard,) tediously gone through with;
lengthened, perhaps, purposely, in the doing; for the rest
of the day nothing was done but filling up the panel of
the jury; there was no challenge to the array or to the
polls, by the accused or by Government; then the court
adjourned to the next day.

Next morning news came at last to Mr. Wellon and to
the Attorney-General, that the brig with the Ice-Blink's
men on board was signalled off the Narrows. Their
hearts were lightened. A boat with a stout crew and an
intelligent messenger was sent across the bay to bring
Ladford, if he were there.

The Court sat; the Chief-Justice charged; the prisoners

pleaded “not guilty” to the indictment; (Father
Nicholas, who had no legal adviser, with apparent indifference;
Mrs. Calloran,—under advice of her volunteer
counsel,—with much resolution;) the Attorney-General
opened the case for the Crown.

“It was not,” he said, “without grave difficulties; and
so serious was the crime charged, and so mighty the issue
depending, not only to the parties whose characters and
liberty and happiness were at stake, but to the community
and to the sacred cause of justice, that he must confess
freely his having approached it, not merely with
anxiety and a deep sense of responsibility, but—he was not
ashamed to say, as a Christian man, with humble prayer
to God.” He explained the nature of abduction; pointed
out distinctions, and made clear the right and duty of the
jury. He said that in briefly stating the main points of
the case and in commenting, as he must, upon the characters
of the accused, it must be understood that he sacredly
confined himself to such statements as would be fully sustained
by the evidence.

“Father Crampton, he was sorry to say,—he said it
with deep regret,—he would speak far more freely had
he the same evidence in regard to a clergyman of his own
Church, for he should feel that he was not liable to suspicion,
as well as that he was acting for and not against
the true interest and welfare of his church and of
religion,—Father Crampton, who now filled the place of
a priest attached to the Bay-Harbor mission, assisting
the popular and respected head of that mission,” (the
Attorney-General made a slight inclination towards
Father Terence, who did not appear to notice the reference
to himself,) “had the character of an able, intriguing,
unscrupulous, and unyielding person in his plans and

policy; and, moreover, had left behind him, in more than
one place, which he had hastily quitted, an undesirable
reputation, from the very reprehensible nature of his conduct
and relations,—the Attorney-General must repeat
that he was very sorry of it,—to persons of the other sex;
involving, as would be shown, in at least one case, a
woman's moral character and good name; in at least one
other case, a lady's peace; and the happiness of more
than one family in those two cases alone, without reparation
or atonement attempted or offered in either case.”

The Court here interposed; the Chief Justice saying
that “he was sorry to interrupt the honorable and learned
counsel for the Crown; but, on behalf of the prisoner,
who was silent, the Court must exercise its prerogative
of `counsel for the accused,' and object to this blackening
of the character of the prisoner, by introducing matter
which had no reference to his guilt or innocence of the
charge on which he was now standing his trial.”

Father Crampton begged to be allowed to say that
“he made no objection to the honorable Attorney General's
supporting a baseless charge by unsupported defamations
of his character. He should meet the learned
counsel later in the proceedings, and had no fear of the
result.”

The Attorney-General respectfully submitted that “he
had proof for all that he asserted; and that evidence of
a bad moral character did affect the question of guilt under
the indictment.”

The Court insisted, that a man had been guilty of other
offences elsewhere, is no argument that he has been
guilty of this offence here.

The Attorney-General bowed, and abandoned the subject.

“The other prisoner was a woman uneducated, strongly
prejudiced and determined, and of an enduring hate, as
would appear from the evidence.”

During all this, Father Crampton, who was more
watched than any other person present, was just himself:
handsome, dignified, dark-looking. He did not assume
the expression of a martyr, nor one of defiance or indifference:
he sat composedly, sometimes looking, sometimes
not looking, at others; but evidently awake to
every thing. There were occasional heavings in the
court-room; but no disturbance; only an emotion of the
crowd. Mrs. Calloran sat, like one armed at all points
and ready for an attack from any side. The Attorney-General
continued:—

“The person with whose death”—(he hastened to correct
himself, and substituted the term `carrying away,'
but the first phrase had created a marked sensation in the
hearers—) “with whose carrying away the prisoners
stood charged, was one Miss Lucy Barbury, eighteen
years of age, daughter of a well-known and much respected
Protestant planter of Peterport, and a mother,
now Protestant, originally a Roman Catholic:—the girl
herself was of such rare beauty of person and qualities of
mind and heart, that she had—not so much risen above
her native station in society as—brought together the
different degrees of society most easily and beautifully
in herself. With this most attractive young person, a
young man, lately a candidate for the Romish priesthood,
a foster-son, or rather nurse-child of one of the prisoners,
pupil of the other, had fallen in love; and, either before
or afterward, but as both the Priest and Mrs. Calloran
believed and asserted, in consequence of the existence of
this feeling, had abandoned his preparation for the priesthood.

The father of the young man had taken it more
kindly; but the Priest and the nurse had felt bitterly at
what the one called `the devil's stealing the poor boy's
heart away from God to give it to that deceived creature's
(the mother's half-sister's) child;' and the other, `the
ensnaring of one more soul, and one consecrated to the
service of the altar, in the guilt and misery of apostasy.'

“While these things were so, the object of their apprehension
and dislike was taken sick, being delirious much
of the time; went out of her father's house, on the fifteenth
day of August, between the hours of six and eight
of the clock, P. M. (probably in a fit of delirium); a person
answering to her description was seen upon the way
leading to Mr. Urston's house; near which, and at the
landing close by, traces of her were found; a punt had
come and gone to and from that landing after dusk that
evening, (Mrs. Calloran being the only one of the family
at home;) a female was seen, by an intelligent and observing
witness, who would give his evidence by and
by, to be carried down from that house, by other women,
toward the landing; that punt being overhauled by
searchers, as it went from the landing, a person wrapped
in female clothing, and supported by two other women, as
if sick, was seen in it. Now, no sick person had at that
time, or in that way, gone from Peterport, unless Lucy
Barbury; every house had been inquired at; Father
Crampton was recognized commanding the party, and
urged the oarsmen to pull; one of the four oarsmen told
his wife that they had brought a young woman from
Peterport; and afterwards said `he was sorry for Mr.
Barbury; but he thought that if Father Nicholas's hand
were lifted, something would be found under it;' a young
woman, said to be sick and out of her mind, was brought

to the nuns' building at Bay-Harbor at about eleven
o'clock that night, as the chief of the nuns would testify;
was kept there secretly for four nights and four days;
taken care of by two nuns, who brought her there, and
under Father Crampton's direction; (the sister who would
testify suspecting at the time that it was Lucy Barbury,
but abstaining, by Father Crampton's expressed wish,
from visiting her;) a young person, whose complexion
and features answered to Miss Barbury's, was seen by
another witness lying, as sick, in a certain room of that
building; and a print, bearing the name of St. Lucy, was
hanging opposite the bed; the perfect and unmistakable
outline of Miss Barbury's face, and the upper part of her
person, was seen against the window of that room by another
witness, perfectly familiar with her features and
person; in the night of the fourth day, as was reported
in the nunnery, and as Father Crampton himself stated to
the chief of the sisters, who would testify, the sick young
woman disappeared; she never came back, and Father
Crampton said that she could not be found; a conversation
had been overheard, on the next day, between the
two prisoners at Mr. Urston's in which the Priest spoke
of Lucy Barbury as `gone.'

“Since the disappearance, Mrs. Calloran had hesitated
and equivocated, when questioned as to having seen the
lost maiden on the fifteenth of August; on the discovery,
at her house, of a disfigured prayer-book which, as was
afterward found, had belonged to the missing maiden,
she had told several different stories about it, and had
shown great anxiety to get it into her possession.

“Father Crampton, on his examination, had declined
saying any thing about Miss Barbury's presence in the
nunnery, or giving any account of the young woman who

had been there sick, and had been said to have disappeared,
or to give any account of his own movements on
the fifteenth of August. The two nuns who had brought
the sick young person, and had charge of her, under his
direction, had disappeared; the oarsmen,—three of whom
were brothers,—had disappeared; and the Government
could not find them; thus, every person, who had gone
with the punt to Peterport on that evening, had disappeared.

“These things being all put together,” the Attorney-General
said: “Miss Barbury having been (after being
missed from her father's house,) in the Nunnery, and in
the power of Father Crampton, and having afterwards
disappeared entirely, without any explanation given; but,
on the contrary, all means of throwing light on the dark
catastrophe that may have closed so suddenly and sadly,
her bright and happy life, being cunningly and thoroughly
put out of reach; every person, in any way privy to, or
informed of, the several steps by which that catastrophe
was brought on, having been effectually secured from
bearing witness, and Mr. Crampton, with every inducement
which duty and interest, alike, could lay upon him,
refusing to do any thing to clear up the dark places that
made him suspected; it must be remembered that if the
body had been discovered with any marks of violence or
poison, the prisoners would have been standing a trial for
their lives, on a charge of murder, with the very same
amount of evidence that would now be brought to establish
this lesser crime; and he, the Attorney-General,
thought that the jury would be led by that evidence to
believe the said Nicholas Crampton and Bridget Calloran
to be guilty of the offence charged.”

Through all the Attorney-General's speech, the attention

of the three or four hundred people within the walls
of the Court room was very closely held; and, every now
and then, a sympathetic heave or swell seemed to be communicated,
(without any manifest connection,) from the
much larger multitude without; as the swell of the faraway
sea pulses in one of those inland pools in the
southern islands;—but there was no disturbance. Within,
apparently two thirds of the people were Protestants;
without, the greater part Roman Catholics. The orderly
spirit was, perhaps, encouraged by the known and evident
provision of soldiers and of special constables, that, to the
number of seventy, had been sworn in from different
parts of the Bay.

Mrs. Calloran looked frequently at Father Nicholas,
being herself much excited; he always sat quietly, only
sometimes looking a little impatient, or smiling slightly,
and almost sneering, at some parts of the argument of
the counsel.

Father Crampton begged leave to say “that he would
not waste the time of the Court, or put the counsel for the
Crown to trouble, to prove the fact of Miss Barbury's
being missing; he admitted it; he had no doubt of it.
Nor would he require that it should be proven that she
disappeared on the afternoon or evening of the fifteenth
day of August at the time charged by the Government;
from that point he should deal with the witnesses as they
were called on.”

When Mr. Urston and James were called, successively,
to show that Father Crampton had expressed himself
strongly disappointed and displeased, he not only made no
use of the witnesses, after the Government had done with
them, but admitted, freely, the substance of the expressions
and the character of his own feelings, with a frankness

that very likely had a favorable influence upon the
jury. It was understood that Mrs. Barrè was to be
called to testify to some passages in the priest's former
life; and as her story was now pretty generally known,
there was, doubtless, abundant anxiety in those present.
This would explain the interest manifested by the spectators
in such ladies as were there watching the progress
of the trial; but whatever were the method intended by
the Attorney-General, she was not summoned, at least in
the earlier stages of the proceeding; nor was a certain
Englishman, accidentally arrived a few weeks before, who,
it was said, had recognized Father Crampton as one who
had villainously ruined a near kinswoman of his own.

So the witnesses succeeded each other in procession
quiet and orderly, with slight interruption. In declining
to ask Jesse Barbury any questions, the Priest said that
he had no wish nor interest to contradict or meddle with
his testimony; at which a flush of bashful pride went
over Jesse's honest face, (and, no doubt, over Isaac Maffen's);
and the witness ventured a glance, of his own
accord, at the Attorney-General, as if Jesse felt that time
and skill had been well bestowed in drawing out evidence,
which, when drawn out, stood thus unimpeachable.

The Attorney-General did not hurry himself or his
witnesses; but Father Crampton let them go unquestioned,
and so did Mrs. Calloran's counsel, as if they
acted in concert. The first change of proceeding was
with Mr. Bangs. In his direct examination, whose redundancy
the learned prosecutor was at no pains to check,
he gave an account of his seeing the woman carried down
from Mr. Urston's by two others. Mr. Wellon described
the finding of the cap, and identified the one produced.
Mrs. Barbury swore that it was her daughter's. Gilpin

gave his account of the prayer-book, and of Mrs. Calloran's
and Father Crampton's suspicious conduct in regard
to it. Then Captain Nolesworth's deposition was put in,
without question from the accused. Then Mr. Bangs was
recalled, and described his visit to the Nunnery;—how
“he went in, 'th the holy priest, there, an' saw all about
it, an' where they took their meals,” and so forth;—with
which, in spite of the solemnity of the occasion, both the
court and others seemed to be amused. After the Government
had done with him, Father Crampton, premising
that he was no lawyer, and begging that the answers
might be as short and plain as possible, asked him whether
he had been invited to go in. “I undertook to go in, o'
myself, first, I guess,” said Mr. Bangs, “an' then you
come along, an' finally, you concluded to take me in, I
b'lieve.” “Did I invite you to the room where the
sick person was?” “Wall, I guess ye did, sir.” “Did
I make any difference between that and the rest?” “I
dono's ye did.” “Do you know that I did not?” “I
guess ye didn't.” “Did I show any apprehension, in
showing you that room?” “I guess ye didn't.” “Did
I hurry you away from it?” “No, sir; I can't say's ye
did; only when the holy virgins, there, or what not,
snickered out at my hat, I s'pose ye was ruther put out.”
“But did I show any anxiety? or did I hurry you
away?” “No, sir.” “That will do, sir,” said Father
Nicholas, “it is to be observed that that was the room in
which the girl lay whom I am charged with having kidnapped.”

Ladford did not come; the Attorney-General appeared
anxious. He said that an important witness for Government
had not arrived, though constantly expected; it was
very embarrassing, as that witness could testify to the

actual presence of Miss Barbury in the Nunnery, and in
that room in which the sick young woman was seen; but
he would go on, expecting to supply the deficiency very
soon.

Gilpin was recalled, and gave his evidence about the
conversation overheard. In the cross-examination, Father
Nicholas asked him: “Did you not say that I distinctly
spoke of Lucy Barbury as `gone?'” “I heard her name;
and I heard you speak of some one as `gone.'” “Can
you swear that I said that she was gone in any way except
as having disappeared? Think well of it.” “No,
sir.” “Well: did you hear me speak of any one else, in
that conversation?” “I think I did: you both spoke
about somebody that had been confessing to Father Debree.”
“Man or woman?” “Woman.” “Did you
understand that to be Miss Barbury?” “No, sir; I understood
it was Mrs. Barrè.” “And can you swear that
that was not the person I said was gone?” “No, sir, I
cannot.” “That will do, sir.”

Sister Theresa was next called to the stand; but before
her examination had begun, a disturbance outside and at
the door of the Court-room drew all attention to that side.
The name of “Lane” was heard; the Attorney-General
became agitated, but looked suddenly hopeful. The officers
of the Court had gathered immediately toward the
door. Father Nicholas cast a quick glance that way; and
Mr. Wellon looked, very eagerly.

“There's no Ladford there,” said the latter, forgetting
himself, and thinking aloud. Then, presently recalled by
the many faces turned to him, he bowed to the Court by
way of apology. The Attorney-General, who had looked
to him, like the rest, still waited, without questioning the
nun who had been called on, and requested her to be seated.

“We hope,” said he to the Court, “to be able to put
our witness on the stand in a few moments, if the Court
will be pleased to indulge us; I see the messenger who
was sent for him.”

The officers quieted all but the indefinite motion and
sound that show the excited state of a crowd, and made
way for one of several men who had got within the
door. The counsel for the Crown were, for a while, in
close conversation with him; a new sensation passed over
the crowd; and then the Government said that “information
had been just received which satisfied them that
Warrener Lane, the witness for whom they had been
looking, had perished, while engaged in an honorable
mission of charity, respected by his comrades, and in the
faith and penitence of a Christian man. It was, therefore,
out of their power to put his testimony into the case,
and they must do without it.”

A new sensation passed over the crowd; and something
like a shout was heard on the outside of the building.
Father Crampton almost smiled, and lifted up his eyes,
apparently in a momentary thanksgiving.

The Government did not throw up the case. The
Attorney-General simply and gravely expressed his regret
at the loss of so important evidence, and at the death
of the man, though it was in an honorable cause. The
other witnesses were called, after Sister Theresa; and the
evidence of the officers who had searched for the missing
nuns and boatmen, showed that not one of these could be
traced. Father Crampton asked no questions; leaving
it, as he said, to the Court to show the jury that this
testimony did not, in any way, touch him.

All evidence touching the priest's character, save in

the one point of his being likely to have committed this
crime, was ruled out.

The Chief Justice summed up and commented upon the
testimony wisely and fairly; when he had done, Father
Crampton bowed dignifiedly to the court.

When the case was given to the jury, a leading barrister
leaned over and whispered to the solicitor-general,
“They won't leave their seats.”

The jury withdrew, however, and were out about
twenty minutes, when they came in with a verdict of
“Not guilty.”

The priest rose, and bowing gravely, as before, withdrew.
Mrs. Calloran shook her petticoats, and turning
indignantly to the Bench, said:—

“Sure, didn't I know that before, without three jidges
an' twelve juries to tell it me? An' who'll get satisfaction
for me lying in prison?”

An officer laid hold of her, and hurried her away, to
the freedom of the open air, lest she should be committed
for contempt.

From the street came a sound significant of popular
excitement.

It was impossible for Father Nicholas, if he had
wished it, to get rid of all the different demonstrations
in which the excited spirit of his fellow-religionists broke
forth after his discharge from custody. He had no carriage
to be dragged; nor what would have become the
habits of the country better, boat to be towed; but as he
walked along the street, the men walked in ranks of four
or five abreast, before and behind, and in the roadway at
his side; and women, less orderly, were mingled among
them. Green badges of fir, and spruce twigs, and here
and there of shamrock, indicative of birth in the Emerald

Isle, soon made their appearance, marshals of the procession
decorated and distinguished by suspenders outside of
their clothes, presently were conspicuous; and so, with
heavy, martial tramp, and fierce looks, (a few of them giving
groans before one or two houses of obnoxious persons,)
the crowd escorted Father Nicholas Crampton up to the
Mission premises, while the marshals got into everybody's
way, and made themselves very hot, ordering and gesticulating.

One woman was very active and prominent in the
demonstration about the priest. Upon her they presently
laid hands, and placed her in the midst, and escorted her
also. This was Mrs. Calloran, who had at first been forgotten.
When she had thus found her proper place, she
trudged on, less noisy though not less earnest than before.

No let or hinderance was offered to this crowd; the soldiers
were kept out of sight; the special constables were
not put forward, and the rest of the people did not come
in the way. At the gate Father Nicholas dismissed them
with a few words.

“They had had provocation,” he said, “that would have
driven a less patient and orderly people to violence. They
had, also, the power to sweep the arrogant contemners of
their most holy religion into nothing. He was a minister
of peace, and though he knew that in the sight of men
they would be excused, and, in the sight of God, they
would be justified, if they were to show a sense of their
wrongs, yet he must counsel them to wait patiently for
the day in which they would at length have full justice.”

Then the marshals and others, with much brandishing
of their arms, got the multitude to their knees, much as if
they had mowed them down; and while some wiped their
faces, and some brushed their clothes, and some continued

certain altercations with their neighbors, as the way of
crowds is, Father Crampton blessed them.

They had begun slowly to break up into small companies,
not knowing exactly what to do with themselves,
when Father Terence came, making his way home,
through the midst of them. Very many of the late
enthusiasts, on becoming aware of his presence, looked
rather sheepish.

He addressed himself to different little gatherings, as
he passed by, exhorting them to “go home, now, and
show the way Irishmen could be quiet.” There were
some who objected that “it was not just the thing to be
quite, till they'd got the life tramped out o' them;” but
Father Terence, by asking who was tramping the life out
of them, and bidding them not to “be talking nonsense,
that way,” convinced by far the greater number, and sent
them to their homes. The remainder soon disappeared,
and the town was quiet.