Living My Life - Emma Goldman [204]
At that moment the strains of the “Marseillaise” floated through the window, and the Russian Mission marched past on its way to the City Hall. I seized upon the occasion. “Gentlemen of the jury,” I said, “do you hear the stirring melody? It was born in the greatest of all revolutions, and it was most emphatically not within the law! And that delegation your government is now honouring as the representatives of new Russia. Only five months ago every one of them was considered what you have been told we are: criminals—not within the law!” [ . . . ]
Judge Mayer fully rose to our expectations. In his charge to the jury he declared with much solemnity: “In the conduct of this case, the defendants have shown remarkable ability. An ability which might have been utilized for the great benefit of this country, had they seen fit to employ themselves in behalf of it rather than against it. In this country of ours we regard as enemies those who advocate the abolition of our government and those who counsel disobedience to our laws by those of minds less strong. American liberty was won by the forefathers, it was maintained by the Civil War, and today there are the thousands who have already gone, or are getting ready to go, to foreign lands to represent their country in the battle for liberty. He then instructed that jury that ”whether the defendants are right or wrong can have no bearing on the verdict. The duty of the jury is merely to weigh the evidence presented as to the innocence or guilt of the defendants of the crime as charged.”
The jury filed out. The sun had set. The electric lights looked yellow in the dusk. Flies buzzed, their swirl mingling with the whisperings in the room. The minutes crept on, clammy with the day’s heat. The jury returned; its deliberation had lasted just thirty-nine minutes.
“What is your verdict?” the foreman was asked.
“Guilty,” he answered. [...]
“In the United States, law is an imperishable thing,” the Court declared in imposing sentence, “and for such people as would nullify our laws we have no place in our country. In a case such as this I can but inflict the maximum sentence which is permitted by our laws.”
Two years in prison with a fine of ten thousand dollars each. The Judge also instructed the Federal Attorney to send the records of the trial to the immigration authorities in Washington with his recommendation to deport us at the expiration of our prison terms.
His Honour had done his duty. He had served his country well and merited a rest. He declared court adjourned and turned to leave the bench.
But I was not through. “One moment, please,” I called out. Judge Mayer turned to face me. “Are we to be spirited away at such neck-breaking speed? If so, we want to know it now. We want everybody here to know it.”
“You have ninety days in which to file an appeal.”
“Never mind the ninety days,” I retorted. “How about the next hour or two? Can we have that to gather up a few necessary things?”
“The prisoners are in the custody of the United States Marshal,” was the curt answer.
The Judge again turned to leave. Again I brought him to a stop. “One more word!” He stared at me, his heavy-set face flushed. I stared back. I bowed and said: “I want to thank you for your leniency and kindness in refusing us a stay of two days, a stay you would have accorded the most heinous criminal. I thank you once more.”
His Honour grew white, anger spreading over his face. Nervously he fumbled with the papers on his