Even more astounding than Mr. Pierces words was his general demeanor, for “he carried himself extremely well, and proudly, and gave no hint of contrition, nor any trace of moral remorse for his black deeds. Quite the opposite, he seemed to, demonstrate an enthusiasm for his own cleverness as he recounted the various steps in the plan.
“He appears,” noted the Evening Standard, “to take a degree of delight in his actions which is wholly inexplicable.”
This delight extended to a detailed accounting of the foibles of other witnesses, who were themselves most reluctant to testify. Mr. Trent was fumbling and nervous, and greatly embarrassed (“with ample reason,” snapped one outraged observer) at what he had to report, while Mr. Fowler recounted his own experiences in a voice so low that the prosecutor was continually obliged to ask him to speak up.
There were a few shocks in Pierces testimony. One was the following exchange, which occurred on the third day of his appearance in court:
“Mr. Pierce, are you acquainted with the cabby known as Barlow?”
“I am.”
“Can you tell us his whereabouts?”
“I cannot.”
“Can you tell us when you last saw him?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Please be so good to do so.”
“I saw him last six days ago, when he visited me at Coldbath Fields.”
(Here there was a buzzing of voices within the court, and the judge rapped for order.)
“Mr. Pierce, why have you not brought forth this information earlier?”
“I was not asked.”
“What was the substance of your conversation with this man Barlow?”
“We discussed my escape.”
“Then I take it, you intend with the aid of this man to make your escape?”
“I should prefer that it be a surprise,” Pierce said calmly.
The consternation of the court was great, and the newspapers were plainly outraged: “A graceless, unscrupulous, hideous fiend of a villain,” said the Evening Standard. There were demands that he receive the most severe possible sentence.
But Pierce’s calm manner never changed. He continued to be casually outrageous. On August 1, Pierce said in passing of Mr. Henry Fowler that “he is as big a fool as Mr. Brudenell.”
The prosecutor did not let the comment go by. Quickly he said, “Do you mean Lord Cardigan?”
“I mean Mr. James Brudenell.”
“That is, in fact, Lord Cardigan, is it not?”
“You may refer to him however you wish, but he is no more than Mr. Brudenell to me.”
“You defame a peer and the Inspector-General of the Cavalry.”
“One cannot,” Pierce said, with his usual calmness, “defame a fool.”
“Sir: you are accused of a heinous crime, may I remind you of that.”
“I have killed no one,” Pierce replied, “but had I killed five hundred Englishmen through my own rank stupidity I should be hanged immediately.”
This exchange was not widely reported in the newspapers, out of fear that Lord Cardigan would sue for libel. But there was another factor: Pierce was, by his testimony, hammering at the foundations of a social structure already perceived as under attack from many fronts. In short order, the master criminal ceased to be fascinating to anyone.
And in any case, Pierces trial could not compete with tales of wild-eyed “niggers,” as they were called, charging into a room full of women and children, raping and killing the females, skewering the screaming infants, and “disporting in a spectacle of blood-curdling heathen atavism.”
Chapter 52
The End
Pierce concluded his testimony on August 2nd. At that time, the prosecutor, aware that the public was perplexed by the master criminal’s cool demeanor and absence of guilt, turned to a final line of inquiry.
“Mr. Pierce,” said the prosecutor, rising to his full height, “Mr. Pierce, I put it to you directly: did you never feel, at any time, some sense of impropriety, some recognition of misconduct, some comprehension of unlawful behavings, some moral misgivings, in the performance of these various criminal acts?”
“I do not comprehend the question,” Pierce said.
The prosecutor was reported to have laughed softly. “Yes, I suspect you do not; it is written all over you.”
At this point, His Lordship cleared his throat and delivered the following speech from the bench: