Of course flagrant miscarriages of justice frequently occur, which, by reason of their widespread publicity in the press, would seem to justify the almost universal opinion that women are immune from the penalities for homicide.  It is also true that such miscarriages of justice are more likely when the defendant is a woman than if he be a man.

One of these hysterical acquittals which give color to popular impression, but which the writer believes to be an exception, was the case of a young mother tried and acquitted for murder in the first degree, December 22, 1904.  This young woman, whose history was pathetic in the extreme, was shown clearly by the evidence to have deliberately taken the life of her child by giving it carbolic acid.  The story was a shocking one, yet the jury apparently never considered at all the possibility of convicting her, but on retiring to the j ury-room spent their time in discussing how much money they should present her on her acquittal.

No better actor ever played a part upon the court-room stage than old “Bill” Howe.  His every move and gesture was considered with reference to its effect upon the jury, and the climax of his summing-up was always accompanied by some dramatic exhibition calculated to arouse sympathy for his client.  Himself an adept at shedding tears at will, he seemed able to induce them when needed in the lachrymal glands of the most hardened culprit whom he happened to be defending.

Mr. Wellman tells the story of how he was once prosecuting a woman for the murder of her lover, whom she had shot rather than allow him to desert her.  She was a parson’s daughter who had gone wrong and there seemed little to be said in her behalf.  She sat at the bar the picture of injured innocence, with a look of spirituality which she must have conjured up from the storehouse of her memories of her father.  Howe was rather an exquisite so far as his personal habits were concerned, and allowed his finger-nails to grow to an extraordinary length.  He had arranged that at the climax of his address to the jury he would turn and, tearing away the slender hands of his client from her tear-stained face, challenge the jury to find guilt written there.  Wellman was totally unprepared for this and a shiver ran down his spine when he saw Howe, his face apparently surcharged with emotion, turn suddenly towards his client and roughly thrust away her hands.  As he did so he embedded his finger-nails in her cheeks, and the girl uttered an involuntary scream of nervous terror and pain that made the jury turn cold.

“Look, gentlemen!  Look in this poor creature’s face!  Does she look like a guilty woman?  No!  A thousand times no!  Those are the tears of innocence and shame!  Send her back to her aged father to comfort his old age!  Let him clasp her in his arms and press his trembling lips to her hollow eyes!  Let him wipe away her tears and bid her sin no more!”