An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser

January wind that herded the fallen leaves into piles and

then scurried them in crisp and windy gusts like flying birds

here and there. And, in spite of the sense of struggle and

tragedy in the minds of many, with an electric chair as the

shadowy mental background to it all, a sense of holiday or

festival, with hundreds of farmers, woodsmen, traders,

entering in Fords and Buicks—farmer wives and husbands

—daughters and sons—even infants in arms. And then

idling about the public square long before the time for court

to convene, or, as the hour neared, congregating before the

county jail in the hope of obtaining a glimpse of Clyde, or

before the courthouse door nearest the jail, which was to be

the one entrance to the courtroom for the public and Clyde,

and from which position they could see and assure

entrance into the courtroom itself when the time came. And

a flock of pigeons parading rather dismally along the

cornices and gutters of the upper floor and roof of the

ancient court.

And with Mason and his staff—Burton Burleigh, Earl

Newcomb, Ziflah Saunders, and a young Bridgeburg law

graduate by the name of Manigault—helping to arrange the

order of evidence as well as direct or instruct the various

witnesses and venire-men who were already collecting in

the antechamber of the now almost nationally known

attorney for the people. And with cries outside of:

“Peanuts!”“Popcorn!”“Hot dogs!”“Get the story of Clyde

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Griffiths, with all the letters of Roberta Alden. Only twenty-

five cents!” (This being a set of duplicate copies of

Roberta’s letters which had been stolen from Mason’s office

by an intimate of Burton Burleigh’s and by him sold to a

penny-dreadful publisher of Binghamton, who immediately

issued them in pamphlet form together with an outline of

“the great plot” and Roberta’s and Clyde’s pictures.)

And in the meantime, over in the reception or conference

room of the jail, Alvin Belknap and Reuben Jephson, side

by side with Clyde, neatly arrayed in the very suit he had

sought to sink forever in the waters of Lower Twelfth Lake.

And with a new tie and shirt and shoes added in order to

present him in his Lycurgus best. Jephson, long and lean

and shabbily dressed as usual, but with all of that iron and

power that so impressed Clyde in every line of his figure

and every movement or gesture of his body. Belknap—

looking like an Albany beau—the one on whom was to fall

the burden of the opening presentation of the case as well

as the cross-examining, now saying: “Now you’re not going

to get frightened or show any evidence of nervousness at

anything that may be said or done at any time, are you,

Clyde? We’re to be with you, you know, all through the trial.

You sit right between us. And you’re going to smile and look

unconcerned or interested, just as you wish, but never

fearful—but not too bold or gay, you know, so that they’d

feel that you’re not taking this thing seriously. You

understand—just a pleasant, gentlemanly, and sympathetic

manner all the time. And not frightened. For that will be

certain to do us and you great harm. Since you’re innocent,

you have no real reason to be frightened—although you’re

sorry, of course. You understand all that, I know, by now.”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” replied Clyde. “I will do just as you

say. Besides, I never struck her intentionally, and that’s the

truth. So why should I be afraid?” And here he looked at

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Jephson, on whom, for psychic reasons, he depended

most. In fact the words he had just spoken were the very

words which Jephson had so drilled into him during the two

months just past. And catching the look, Jephson now drew

closer and fixing Clyde with his gimlet and yet encouraging

and sustaining blue eyes, began:

“You’re not guilty! You’re not guilty, Clyde, see? You

understand that fully by now, and you must always believe

and remember that, because it’s true. You didn’t intend to

strike her, do you hear? You swear to that. You have sworn

it to me and Belknap here, and we believe you. Now, it

doesn’t make the least bit of difference that because of the

circumstances surrounding all this we are not going to be

able to make the average jury see this or believe it just as

you tell it. That’s neither here nor there. I’ve told you that

before. You know what the truth is—and so do we. But, in

order to get justice for you, we’ve had to get up something

else—a dummy or substitute for the real fact, which is that

you didn’t strike her intentionally, but which we cannot hope

to make them see without disguising it in some way. You

get that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Clyde, always over-awed and intrigued by

this man.

“And for that reason, as I’ve so often told you, we’ve

invented this other story about a change of heart. It’s not

quite true as to time, but it is true that you did experience a

change of heart there in the boat. And that’s our

justification. But they’d never believe that under all of the

peculiar circumstances, so we’re merely going to move that

change of heart up a little, see? Make it before you ever

went into that boat at all. And while we know it isn’t true that

way, still neither is the charge that you intentionally struck

her true, and they’re not going to electrocute you for

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something that isn’t true—not with my consent, at least.” He

looked into Clyde’s eyes for a moment more, and then

added: “It’s this way, Clyde. It’s like having to pay for

potatoes, or for suits of clothes, with corn or beans instead

of money, when you have money to pay with but when,

because of the crazy notions on the part of some one, they

won’t believe that the money you have is genuine. So

you’ve got to use the potatoes or beans. And beans is what

we’re going to give ’em. But the justification is that you’re

not guilty. You’re not guilty. You’ve sworn to me that you

didn’t intend to strike her there at the last, whatever you

might have been provoked to do at first. And that’s enough

for me. You’re not guilty.”

And here, firmly and convincingly, which was the illusion in

regard to his own attitude which he was determined to

convey to Clyde, he laid hold of his coat lapels, and after

looking fixedly into his somewhat strained and now nervous

brown eyes, added: “And now, whenever you get to feeling

weak or nervous, or if, when you go on the stand, you think

Mason is getting the best of you, I want you to remember

this—just say to yourself—I’m not guilty! I’m not guilty! And

they can’t fairly convict me unless I really am.’ And if that

don’t pull you together, look at me. I’ll be right there. All you

have to do, if you feel yourself rattled, is to look at me—

right into my eyes, just as I’m looking at you now—and then

you’ll know that I’m wanting you to brace up and do what

I’m telling you to do now—swear to the things that we are

asking you to swear to, however they may look like lies,

and however you may feel about them. I’m not going to

have you convicted for something you didn’t do, just

because you can’t be allowed to swear to what is the truth—

not if I can help it. And now that’s all.”

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And here he slapped him genially and heartily on the back,

while Clyde, strangely heartened, felt, for the time being at

least, that certainly he could do as he was told, and would.

And then Jephson, taking out his watch and looking first at

Belknap, then out of the nearest window through which

were to be seen the already assembled crowds—one about

the courthouse steps; a second including newspapermen

and women, newspaper photographers and artists,

gathered closely before the jail walk, and eagerly waiting to

“snap” Clyde or any one connected with this case—went

calmly on with:

“Well, it’s about time, I guess. Looks as though all

Cataraqui would like to get inside. We’re going to have

quite an audience.” And turning to Clyde once more, he

added: “Now, you don’t want to let those people disturb

you, Clyde. They’re nothing but a lot of country people

come to town to see a show.”

And then the two of them, Belknap and Jephson, going out.

And Kraut and Sissel coming in to take personal charge of

Clyde, while the two lawyers, passing amid whispers,

crossed over to the court building in the square of brown

grass beyond.

And after them, and in less than five minutes, and preceded