Evening star., 1935-02-14
BY ANNE GORDON SUYDAM.

llSO IllC fclOlCt u lilul ucl Ill Illc III oI
degree and the subsequent sentence
of death gray-faced but unflinching.
He stood like soldier at attention,
to State trooper on one
side and Deputy Sheriff Lowe on the
other, as the clerk of the court in
quired, Members of the jury, have
you agreed upon a verdict?" And
when the answer came, Guilty" and
the whole court room waited with
drawn breath for possible recon-
for mercy, his eyes never
turned the way of the foreman. One
by one he heard the members of the
jury in solemn voices, in fearful
voices, and in voices which were al
most lifeless, repeat the words of the
foreman, guilty Of murder in the
first degree and as the last reptition
of these dreadful words fell from the
lips of juror No. IL there was no out
ward sign of terror or of grief upon
the man.
All day we had sat in the sitting
pressure of that court room, listening
for the first hour and eight minutes
to the extraordinarily blunt charge
of the judge to the jury. To one who
had expected a sort of Olympian de-
tachment from the court when in
structing a jury as to its duties in
coming to verdict in a murder trial
his obvious stressing of State points
and belittling or ignoring of points in
the defense'S favor, came as surprise
the more so in that it seemed un-
necessary with such overwhelming
evidence as this case held against
Hauptmann.
Force of Judges Words Felt.
There is no doubt that Hauptmann
and his wife realized the strong i'm
port of the judges words, and Of his
intonations. as he curtly disposed of
Hauptmann's alibi and of his FiSch
story and of the insinuationS against
the Lindbergh servants with the in
credulous question. do you believe
that?" and again with startling en-
phasis, Can you doubt the evidence
that part of this ladder came from
the defendants attic?" So strong
was the personal equation that it was
as though the figure of justice had
torn off her blindfold and opened her
lips to condemn. So purely formal
was his instruction as to their duty
if they considered the man innocent
that the words passed at most un-
observed.
At 1920 the prisoner was returned
to his cell, at 1924 the jury reported
to the jury room, the judge to his
chambers, and the spectators to the
hotel. Only some members of the
press remained as there began one OF
the strangest siegeS of waiting which
ever human beings sat through as
we waited for judgment to be passed
upon another human being.
The drama of the past surcharged
hour and half was relieved by a
sort of relaxed tension as reporters
lighted cigarettes, exchanged opinions
and rendered verdicts in one breath.
Stories were flung upon the wires.
messenger boys were sent Scurrying
for sandwiches for those Of us who
lacked either the courage or the en-
ergy to leave the court room, while
wild rumors circulated about a hung
jury, a .tampered jury. a jury even
now on its way to the court room.
A lively crap game was started in the
ante room, and hastily concluded by
the unexpected appearance Of Justice
Trenchard, who, it turned out, was
merely looking for a 1900 volume on
jurisprudence. Two gentlemen played
checkers solemnly for an hour on a
press bench.
Press Members Increase.
Two o'clock, 3 o'clock, 4 o'clock, and
now more and more press members
are coming in, spurred by the rumors
of an imminent verdict.
Discarded copy paper, paper bags,
cigarette butts litter the floor and
the air is thick with smoke and
charged with inner excitement, which
vents itself in spurious outbursts,
5, 6, Z o'clock, and now none save
a few dare venture out for supper,
as more and more frequently comes
the darting rumor that the jury has
reached a decision. We talk long
with Schwartzkopf and pleasantly
with Reilly. Wilentz has nothing to
say about the case, but chats af-
fably enough with those who ap-
proach him. Arthur Koehler tells
ne brief bits of his career. Deputy
Sheriff Lowe, kindest of men, who
mas kept the newspaper women sup
piled with peppermints during the
long hours of this trial, sits down
for a brief rest and chat before he
S called to bring the prisoner to
court for his last time.
The papers on the floor pile higher,
he smoke grows thicker and we have
cached such a queer state of muted
that time no longer seems of
any value, when suddenly the order
comes to eXtinguish all cigarettes and
ock all doors. There is silence now,
an awful silence, and into that
silence and into the stricken con-
'ciousness of every one present, comes
he ringing Of the court house bell.
Ding dong, ding-dong. It seems to
,oll rather than to ring and, though
know that 1t sounded but five
it seemed to compass an
eternity and to ring in my ears long
after it had ceased.
Handcuffed First Time.
And now, handcuffed for the first
time, comes the defendant. A thou
sand eyes gaze avidly or fearfully
upon him and turn away in baffie-
ment as he strides to his chair, more
as though he led his guards than
as though led by them, and takes his
seat. Three minutes later his wife
enters the court room and as she
moves stonily to her chair a muffled
gasp goes round her neighborhood,
for she IS no longer the woman whom
we have sat beside and spoken with
for these six weeks. She has herself
under control. but her face is ashen
and her lips are blue. She wears
the hat which she bought to wear
to court yesterday, and somehow with
its newness and the jauntiness of its
orange feather, it seems more pitiful
than the faded black felt which she
has worn so long.
It is like putting on npstick as you
go to the gallows.
Hauptmann leaned over for one
hrjaf Y1nrnant and haord hin, CIV,