|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:25:16 GMT -5
was unobtainable. The defence, not designedly, but none the less regrettably, was hampered throughout. The period was scarcely favourable to calm judicial temperament, and the accused were prejudiced by the stories current regarding the barbarities of the Bushveldt Carbineers. These barbarities were bad enough, but report made them infinitely worse. The men on trial had to bear the full brunt of every crime, real or imaginary, attributed to the corps. Witton, being one of the accused, had his case prejudiced with the rest. The headquarters of the military were impressed with the necessity of decisive action to counteract the effects of the international wave of horror created by the reports from the high veldt. Necessarily, the mind of the court-martial--in direct touch with Army Headquarters-was imbued with little official sympathy with the men on trial. We do not infer that the court-martial was corrupt; we do say it had been unconsciously influenced by its environment. If the same court-martial sat to-day, its proceedings would be widely different, and its conclusions more in conformity to British justice. We trust, therefore, Sir Gordon, that you will bear in mind the all too rough and ready character of the court-martial. However much it sufficed for the period at Pietersburg, its deliberations and decisions must not be held, at this later and quieter date, to be beyond review and reversal when a precious human life is fretting within the walls of an English prison. "We understand that you, Sir Gordon, have devoted some attention to this case, and that the evidence published in the London 'Times' of 18th April, 1902, may have come before you. That evidence does not fill a page in the 'Times,' whereas the court-martial proceedings extended to three weeks. Not more than one-twentieth part of the evidence has been made public. Press censorship was responsible for the elimination of questions and answers not deemed judicious for public examination during the war. Since the signing of peace the War Office has not been called upon to produce for public inspection the whole of the evidence. It is most unfortunate that the papers--the missing papers--have been so completely hidden from view. We now ask your assistance in procuring a certified copy of the whole of the evidence, believing that such will be sufficient to establish innocence, in Witton's case at least. "As to the condensed and sharply-censored report of the evidence, we desire to say little. As it has been tampered with, it is almost valueless. Nevertheless, it does not disclose the guilt of Witton, even though it infers it. But it does not assist the inquiry. It merely mystifies it." The connecting links in the Witton story have been gathered from many sources, chiefly from those who gave evidence, or who were present to give evidence, and were not called, or who were not asked to be present at the court-martial. It is necessary to narrate everything about which there is general agreement. Here is a copy of a letter addressed by the Church of England chaplain to Handcock's widow. It will explain much that is dark and mysterious in the Witton case:-- "Dear Madam,--I was military chaplain at Pietersburg, in the Northern Transvaal, during all the time that the Bushveldt Carbincers had their headquarters there, and I knew your late husband and all those officers and men who were concerned, for and against, in his trial, and I attended most of the sittings of the courts. And, knowing what I know, I want to say to you that, great as may be your grief for the loss of him, you need feel no shame, but rather pride, on his account. He was a good-hearted man, and a brave soldier, simple and fearless, and he did what he was told. If he did wrong-I do not say that he did-it was the fault of his superiors, who gave him their orders. In the matter of the shooting of the Boer prisoners, of which he and others were found guilty, he acted under
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:24:43 GMT -5
miscarriage of justice in committing to prison for life one who I have every reason to believe is an innocent man, and, therefore, as it is justice alone that is sought, it is with that end in view that Mr. Easton and myself called upon and asked you to receive us here to-day, and I feel sure that our appeal for your assistance will not be made in vain. In forming this deputation we have endeavoured to make it non-political by inviting the leading representatives of both the Progressive and South African party, to each of whom we have written, giving at least seven, days' clear notice, and asking them to attend; and I therefore, hope, that whatever may be the outcome of our efforts on behalf of this unfortunate man, our motives will not be misconstrued, as our sole desire is to obtain his honourable release. I have not considered it necessary to go fully into the details of the case, as there are others of this deputation who are in a position to, place the matter more fully before you. I will therefore ask Mr. Herbert Easton to address you, and I beg to thank you for the patient hearing which you have given me. Mr. Herbert Easton said:--Sir Gordon,--Our object in meeting you to-day is to enlist your sympathy and secure your support towards a deep and far-spread movement to obtain the release of ex-Lieutenant Witton on the grounds of justice. We do not approach you to, ask mercy on his behalf, for, regarding him as innocent, we think it a scandal that this young officer is being detained in an English gaol. The War Office is an administration that has lost the confidence of the people, and public feeling on the Witton case has been intensified by the tactics adopted by that discredited administrative board in resisting the, efforts of Witton's advocates to bring the true history of the case to light. The voluminous evidence taken at the courts-martial--on behalf of the War Office--remains withheld, and all official information so far published is that which has been subjected to the severest press censorship. Little by little the true history of Witton's connection with the B.V.C. has come out, and has made a profound impression on the popular mind, which is now filled with anxiety for what we believe to be the unjust fate of a British subject. (Hear, hear.) You, Sir Gordon, are fully aware of the extraordinary excitement caused by the Dreyfus case-how the military authorities of the great French Republic were so wilfully misled as to the accusation against Dreyfus; that it was only after the intemational-and particularly the British press roused such a great wave of feeling by minor discoveries, that the French Government suspected the verdict of the military court-martial, and was compelled to have Dreyfus retried before a civil tribunal, which fully justified the immense trouble and labour taken by the public in his cause. We here to-day feel convinced that we are voicing the sentiments of millions in saying that we believe a retrial of Witton before a civil tribunal will reveal a second Dreyfus case. We are oppressed with the belief that the promises made to, the petitioners to have our statements and prayers brought directly under the notice of His Majesty the King have not in England been carried out to the spirit and the letter, as we, feel assured that, were it possible to reach the ear of His Majesty with the whole evidence, there would be no question that His Majesty would cause a retrial of Lieutenant Witton to be instituted. In conclusion, Mr. Easton read the following letters Schoongezigt, Stellenbosch, 4th December, 1903. Dear Sir,-I regret that a previous engagement to speak at the Paarl on the Chinese importation question will prevent me from joining your deputation. As a firm believer in the fullest possible measure of amnesty, I think that it would be good policy to release Witton. I do not wish to enter on the particulars of his crime, his trial, or his sentence, but upon the broad grounds of policy; I think that you have followed the right course in appealing to the Prime Minister of the colony to use his good offices in laying the case before the Imperial authorities, with whom the matter rests. I am, dear Sir, yours faithfully, JOHN X. MERRIMAN. De la Rey, Gardens, 5th December, 1903. My dear Mr. Easton, I regret very much that I cannot form one of the deputation to interview the Prime Minister in connection with the Witton case. I have to leave on Monday early for Pietersburg to address the electors at several places in that district, where I am a candidate. I hope you will be successful. I cannot see any reason for believing that Sir Gordon Sprigg will not assist you in connection with your efforts re the Witton case. Yours truly, C. Du P. CHIAPPINI. "Ons Land," Kantoor, Kaapstad, 27th November, 1905. Gentlemen,--I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of even date with reference to "the Witton case," inviting, me to join a deputation which will wait upon the Prime Minister on Monday, 7th December, and I beg to state that I have the greatest sympathy with the object of the proposed deputation. I would consider it a privilege to be able to do something towards its attainment. I find, however, that it will be impossible for me to be present on that date, seeing that I have already arranged for a public meeting (announced in "Ons Land" of yesterday) at Vredenberg, Saldanha Bay, with my fellow-candidate, Mr. J. A. Smuts, for Saturday, 5th December, and that I shall not reach Capetown again before Tuesday evening, 8th December. I sincerely regret that this previous engagement will prevent me from joining you in the deputation, but I wish you all success, and I shall do all in my power to assist you. Believe me, gentlemen, to be, yours faithfully, F. S. MALAN. Mr. W. B. Melville, who was deputed to state the case for Witton, said:-- "We are grateful, Sir Gordon, for the opportunity you are affording us to-day to lay before you, as the head of His Majesty's Government in this free country, the case of Lieutenant Witton. Your readiness to receive us, and to listen to what we have to say is courtesy and consideration characteristic of you, and appreciated by us. It will be our aim to represent to you to the best of our ability the broad circumstances and salient features of the case as they bear on the innocence of Witton of any act of barbarism or criminal complicity in connection with the tragedies on the high veldt in August, 1901. At the outset, we desire to dissociate ourselves from any defence of the murders and other brutalities which blacken the record of some members of the Bushveldt Carbineers; but we do say that it is unfair to assume that any more than a small percentage of that irregular corps is directly, or indirectly, responsible for crimes that cried to heaven for vengeance. Unfortunately retributive justice, in blind pursuit of the guilty, punished, in at least one instance, the innocent. You will gather from this that we regard the court-martial proceedings as incomplete, and seriously unsatisfactory. As the responsibility of Witton's sad position rests with the court-martial, and as the strength of our position is the imperfect character of that tribunal, perhaps it would be well to state at once how it was possible for that court to fail in arriving at the truth. In the first place it was hurriedly summoned, and sat for three weeks dealing with a host of charges against the Bushveldt Carbineers. Counsel for the defence (Major Thomas) appeared in court forthwith, as he had no time for the preparation of the many cases entrusted to him. He had scarcely a statement to guide him, and was only confronted with evidence while the trials proceeded. There was no chance of testing credibility, and there was little opportunity of sifting evidence. Evidence objected to was admitted, and rebutting evidence, available under ordinary circumstances,
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:24:09 GMT -5
for me. The first thought that rushed through my mind was a family bereavement; it was my father, or perhaps my mother. He then added, "The petition for your release has been refused." I was staggered for a moment; this was indeed a heavy blow to me. I could not and would not believe that the King had declined to release me. I knew full well that the blocking of all progress to the efforts on my behalf was due to the obstinacy of the War Office; my hopes, however, were not altogether annihilated. I knew there was increased agitation throughout the Empire on my behalf, so I toiled on, and hoped and waited through the winter, which was a very severe one. Another Christmas and New Year's Day passed away, the third I had spent within prison walls. Shortly after this the War Office was reorganised and the Army Council constituted. A slight turn in my favour then occurred, and in reply to a petition which I sent to the Home Secretary I was informed that the question of my release would be considered when I had completed a term of three years' imprisonment. This concession lifted a great weight from my mind. I did not let matters rest here; as soon as I had completed two years and three months, and had earned the number of marks representing a three years' sentence, I petitioned again for my release under the existing Classification and Remission System. Failing this, I asked that my term of imprisonment should date from the award of the sentence, instead of from the confirmation of the sentence, which occurred a month later. The latter request was granted, but I was informed that I must not expect my release until I had actually completed three years' imprisonment. So to this fate I had for the time being to submit. I knew that at Capetown a meeting had been held and a powerful organisation formed, and strenuous efforts were being made for my immediate release. Messrs. W. B. Melville, Herbert Easton, and R. Bruce-Hardy, did Trojan work. An influential deputation waited on Sir Gordon Sprigg, the Cape Premier, with the object of enlisting his sympathy. The following is a summary of the proceedings, extracted from the South African press:-- A deputation of citizens waited upon the Premier, Sir Gordon Sprigg, with the object of enlisting his sympathy on behalf of the movement to secure the release of ex-Lieutenant Witton, of the Bushveldt Carbineers. Lieutenant Witton, it will be remembered, was tried with others by a court-martial in connection with certain military irregularities on the high veldt. He was sentenced to death, which sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life by Lord Kitchener. He is now a prisoner in an English gaol. The deputation consisted of the following gentlemen:--The Hon. J. H. Hofmeyr, and Messrs. J. W. Van Reenan, J. J. Michau, C. A. MacBride, R. Bruce-Hardy, B.A., W. B. Melville, C. R. Juchau, F. W. Wilson, G. W. Baudinet, Thomas Gibson, Drs. Forsyth and Crozier-Durham, Dr. Petersen, M.L.C., D. Van Zyl, ex-M.L.A., and Messrs. Herbert, Easton and D. McKey. Mr. D. McKey, who introduced the deputation, said:-Sir, as a member of the recently-formed Constitutional Club of this city, which includes among its objects the maintenance of the glorious traditions of British justice and fair play, I have the honour to be one of the conveners of this deputation, which has been formed to ask you, as the Prime Minister of this colony, to use your influence in such a manner as you may deem best on behalf of our young fellowsubject, for some time known as Lieutenant Witton, but who is at present undergoing sentence for life in Portland Prison. When first approached upon this matter I was of opinion that it was a case which called for mercy alone, but upon hearing the statements of one of his fellow-officers, and that of others acquainted with the entire facts, I have come to the conclusion that there has been a grave
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:23:41 GMT -5
one side, and a well-known English champion prize-fighter on the other. One day I saw the champion of the art of self-defence, whom I will call C-03, give a little exhibition of his skill. There is a good deal of jealous spirit shown even in a prison; C-03 accused a fellow-prisoner of backbiting him, and watched for an opportunity to retaliate. The warder in charge just at the time had his head buried in the tool-chest, taking stock of the spare tools. C-03 made a dart like lightning, and with a blow nicely aimed at the jaw felled his maligner to the ground. I was the only person who saw it, and I went to the assistance of the fallen man, and tried to put him on his feet; he was limp and speechless. When the warder's attention had been attracted he inquired of me, "What is the matter with him?" "I think he has had a stroke, sir," I replied. The M.D. was called; he examined the man's pulse; he said it was throbbing and beating in a most erratic manner; the case puzzled him. However, a little cold water soon brought the man round. "What is the matter?" inquired the warder, "did you faint?" "I must have, though it is the first time I ever fainted in my life," was the reply. The sick man was eventually removed to the infirmary, where he was treated for some time for neuralgia. There was also in the party a great burly Irishman, a very strong and powerful man, whose inclinations were strongly averse to any kind of labour. By some means he softened the heart of the medical officer, and was put on light labour, which consisted of breaking refuse stone into fine road metal; this was done in a sitting position. He had for a companion a little hunch-back cripple, whom out of fear he prevailed upon to collect and wheel to him all the stone to be broken. But when his burly companion monopolised all the smallest and soft pieces, and left the larger and hard chunks for his "little mate," it was time to protest. This the "little mate" did, and backed it up by dancing around the big man with a shovel, breathing out threatenings and slaughter. This necessitated the intervention of the warder, who read the "Riot Act" to both of them. There was also another little old man, who had passed his three score years and ten, and was serving his first term of imprisonment. I saw him in the infirmary, when I was struck by the huge boots he wore, which he dragged along the ground as he walked. One day I got an opportunity to speak to him; I asked him why he did not change his boots for a better fit. The old fellow smiled, and replied that he got them like that on purpose, so as to be able to pull them on and off without unlacing them. His three years' term was nearing completion, so I asked him what he intended to do when he was released. "Have a glass and a pipe first," he readily replied. A glass of ale and a pipe of tobacco were evidently the greatest solace the future held for him. This case appealed to me very much; surely justice would not have been violated if his sentence had been suspended after a short part of it had been served. Time went on; I worked and waited, and summer was now well advanced. I had fallen into the stereotyped routine of prison life, and had made up my mind to be civil and silent, and cause as little trouble as possible to those in authority over me. I could see that complaints or violence could accomplish nothing in one's favour in the long run; if the warders were interfered with they never lost a chance of getting their own back. A prisoner who does his work to the best of his ability and obeys all orders implicitly without comment, practically surrendering his individuality to the Governor and his satellites, and having no opinion of his own, is the best off. I settled down to my work and did it tolerably well; I was often rewarded with a cheery word from the Governor or his deputy. One day in August the Deputy-Governor came to me while I was at work and said he was afraid he had bad news
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:23:10 GMT -5
pardon Lieutenant Witton. At one period of the history of the British Army such circumstances would have been considered as almost equivalent to condonation. Clode, at page 103, states the general principle thus:--The discharge of duty involves condonation, and quotes the Duke of Wellington as writing:--"The performance of a duty of honour and trust after the knowledge of a military offence committed ought to convey a pardon," and the author adds that, according to the practice of the Duke of Wellington in the Peninsula, it did so. That such was the practice of so distinguished a commander at a period of our history noted for the rigour of military discipline appears, we think, from a perusal among other sources of the despatch of the Duke of Wellington of 11th April, 1813, and the general order of His Grace dated 11th February, 1811. 13. Your Majesty's petitioners, without desiring to rest their prayer upon any technical grounds, would humbly beseech your Majesty to consider whether Lieutenant Witton has not suffered some disadvantage in not having as one member at least of the court-martial an officer of an irregular corps in accordance with the Rules of Procedure. Reviewing the whole of Lieutenant Witton's unfortunate case, your Majesty's petitioners venture humbly to express to your Majesty the confident hope that your Majesty may perceive room and occasion for royal clemency. Now that peace has been happily re-established, now that our late foes have been enrolled as our fellow-subjects, when even rebels have sought leniency, and not in vain, we approach the Throne asking that your Majesty may be graciously pleased to direct the liberation of the young and inexperienced soldier who, at an anxious moment of our history, ardently offered to his country the last gift of a brave and loyal citizen, and who, if, contrary to the views of your Majesty's petitioners, he erred at all, he erred, we venture most humbly and earnestly to submit, not from wilfulness or design, but, according to the great weight of testimony and probability, from a mistaken sense of duty to obey the official commands of his superior officer. Your petitioners therefore humbly pray that Your Most Gracious Majesty may be pleased to take this matter into your most gracious consideration, and pardon and direct and order the release of the said George R. Witton, and your petitioners will in duty bound ever pray. CHAPTER XXIV. THE LONG SUSPENSE. November and December passed over, and I was still confined to my bed. I had received a cable message from my brother that the Australian petition had closed with 100,000 signatures, and was now on its way to England; it was the largest petition that had ever left Australia. I now began to feel troubled that I would not be well enough to leave the prison when my release came. I was allowed to receive letters more frequently, as the rules are somewhat relaxed in regard to them when a prisoner is seriously ill. When the medical officer visited me on Christmas Day he said I was now making good progress towards recovery, and if I kept on as I was going I would be able to get up the following week. "But," he added, "you will be convalescent for at least another three or four months, but that is nothing, you know, when one is in prison." "Four months!" I exclaimed "I hope to be home long before that." He seemed rather amused at my impetuosity, and said that he could not promise me. The New Year was ushered in with the usual accompaniments of an English winter-fogs, drizzling rain, and bitter cold winds. Portland, too, is an exceedingly bleak spot, where cold winds and rain seem more prevalent than elsewhere. On 3rd January I got up and dressed myself for the first time for nearly five months, but was too weak to walk a step. As soon as I had regained sufficient strength to move about, and there was no further fear of contagion, I was removed to another cell. During my illness and convalescence my door was never closed, a barred iron gate being used instead; this was a merciful concession which made my gloomy surroundings a little more cheerful, as I was able to see and hear a little of what was going on around me. I was visited by numerous Home Office officials, the Governor, and many others, also the medical director, with whom I had a long conversation about Australia and Australian industries, particularly the butter export industry and the use of boric acid as a preservative. I was also on two occasions visited by Captain Harris, a prison inspector, a stout, thick-set man with a stern countenance and piercing grey eyes; he was known and feared by officers and prisoners alike. He had earned the reputation of being the strictest Governor the prison service had ever known; a prisoner could rely upon getting from him all he was entitled to, but a favour never. During one of his rounds he visited the cell opposite mine, in which was located an elderly man who had once held a responsible position in civil life, but had fallen on evil days. Prison life had wrecked his nervous system, and was undermining his health. "Well, what is the matter with you?" said Captain Harris. "I--I--I--feel all broke up, sir," stammered the old fellow. "All broke up, broke up, how broke up, what do you mean?" said the inspector. "I'm all broke down, sir," was the abject reply of the prisoner. There was no mistaking it, either; every day was a torture to him. He eventually got his wish, and was transferred to Parkhurst. One day the president of the Board of Visiting Magistrates came to see me; he told me he was in communication with the war Office, and wished to investigate my case, but I need not say anything to incriminate myself. I told him that I had no desire to conceal or disguise any of the facts or the events that had brought about my conviction; I had not acted with any criminal intent towards those against whom I was fighting, but had merely obeyed the orders of my superiors. I was daily expecting my release, and after this visit I became more impatient. Up to this time the medical officer had not allowed my hair or beard to be cut, consequently I had five months' growth of hair on my head, and had also, cultivated an "Uncle Sam" beard. One day it was decided to have it trimmed with a pair of scissors, instead of the regulation prison clip; the warder and orderly came along with a comb and an antiquated pair of scissors, and set to work. The orderly cut and snipped until his arms ached; the warder then took the scissors and did likewise. The principal warder then came on the scene, took command of the situation and the tools, and finished the contract. This was, I believe, the most notable "hair-cut" in the history of the prison. After this ordeal I returned to my cell. Time passed slowly; every day was much alike in this land of gloom, I expected my release at any moment, and rapidly regained health and strength, and put on weight accordingly. When I was discharged from the infirmary I was heavier than I had ever been in my life before, turning the scales at a very little short of sixteen stone. One afternoon the warder, with several "old lags" as assistants, was serving out the supper. One of the latter, a short, pugnacious-looking little character, stopped opposite my cell. I was standing at the gate, and I noticed this little fellow eyeing me very attentively from head to foot. When the warder's back was turned, he sidled up to me and suddenly whispered, "If I was as big as you I'd fight Sullivan" (referring to the champion American pugilist). And he looked as if he really meant it. When I was strong enough to walk about, and weather permitted, I was allowed exercise in the fresh air for forty minutes every afternoon. What a treat those intervals were, and how I drank in the sharp, bracing air of the English springtime. For some time there was a lunatic in the cell next to mine; he walked behind me as we circled round at exercise. My nervous system had been greatly shaken, and it was not likely to be improved by having a madman walking close to my heels, who talked incessantly without sequence, and at times would break out into maniacal laughter. I usually got over the difficulty by falling out on some pretence or other-my shoestring required attention, perhaps. By some such little stratagem I would get him in front of me. I was not sorry when, after a determined attempt at suicide, he was transferred to Parkhurst. After seven months in the infirmary my health was reestablished. As yet I had received no intimation as to the result of the petition; persistent efforts were still being made in Australia and South Africa to obtain my release. Further petitions had been sent from Australia, supported by members of the Federal and State Parliaments; resolutions had also been passed in my favour by both Houses of Parliament in Natal and Cape Colony; public meetings had been held throughout South Africa, and letters and circulars had been distributed throughout the Empire. Subscription lists had been opened to defray expenses, and a notable one was returned to the Treasurer by a ship's officer who had collected from the passengers. It included people from Nova Scotia, Ireland, Wales, Norway, England, Denmark, Scotland, Belgium, Russia, France, Germany, Palestine, and Japan. Innumerable petitions from public and private bodies and individuals were sent to the Home authorities asking for my release. These were all referred to a War Office whose policy in Africa prevented them from dealing in such a quality as justice. This action of the War Office was greatly resented by the subjects of the Empire generally, and caused strong comment by the press in Australia, South Africa, and Canada. About the middle of May I was discharged from the infirmary, and sent back to my 3 x 7 cubicle. I had heard that there were a few large cells in one of the wards, which had been formed by taking out a partition, thus making two cells into one. I interviewed the medical officer, and asked to be recommended for a larger cell. My request was granted; my quarters were then a little more habitable; the cell, being the second from the end of the hall, was better ventilated. The next day I appeared on parade, to the great surprise of the majority of my fellow prisoners. Vague rumours had been in circulation; some had heard that I was dead, others that I had been released and had gone home. I returned to my old party and made another start at tinsmithing; here I became acquainted with the past life of some of my fellow-workmen. Most of them belonged to the genteel ranks of criminals. There were representatives of the medical fraternity, the Bar, the clergy, the stage, the army, and the navy; bank managers, company promoters, spiritualist mediums, and all sorts and conditions of men--all on an equality, all swelling the revenue of John Bull by making tin cans. When I had been at this work about a month I found that the confinement of the workshop and the acid fumes were again impairing my health. I once more interviewed the medical officer. On this occasion I requested outdoor labour, and the following day I was transferred to 33 party, stone dressing. This party worked in the stone yards near the quarries, about three-quarters of a mile from the prison. I liked this work, and made very good progress. After I had been about a week at it I was complimented on the headway I had made in mastering the art of making "headers and stretchers." The work was in no way laborious, and there was the walk backwards and forwards twice a day; the opportunities of indulging in conversation were also more numerous. While working in the stone shed I had for companions an M.D. on
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:22:41 GMT -5
Morant for bringing in prisoners; so did Captain Taylor. Collateral corroboration that Captain Hunt believed that such orders were justified appears also from the evidence in other cases as to the practice in other corps. 9. The second charge of which Lieutenant Witton was found guilty was called the eight Boers case. He was indicted, along with Lieutenants Morant and Handcock, with having murdered or instigated the murder of eight prisoners. The facts were that about 20th August, 1901, an intelligence officer named Ledeboer, in charge of a party, captured the Boers and handed them over to a patrol. On 23rd August they were shot. So far as Lieutenant Witton is concerned, he was present with others, but did not take part in any decision regarding the fate of the men. One of them rushed at him and seized hold of him, and then Lieutenant Witton shot him, apparently to protect himself. He neither ordered nor participated in the shooting of the other seven. The prosecution proved that Lieutenant Morant again asserted his orders as his justification, and also stated he had been congratulated by headquarters over the last affair, and meant to go through with it. Clearly, as your Majesty's petitioners submit, Lieutenant Morant took command of the situation and exerted his authority. The defence of obedience to orders, and the view that Lieutenant Witton honestly and reasonably believed in the existence of lawful orders, were, as your Majesty's petitioners believe, materially corroborated and supported by evidence in other cases before the same court-martial, that other corps believed the same thing and acted accordingly. Lieutenant Hannam stated that when he was a trooper in the Queensland Mounted Infantry, on one occasion at Bronkhurst Spruit, in 1900, his squadron took some prisoners and was reprimanded by Colonel Cradock for taking them. Sergeant Walter Ashton deposed to Brabant's Horse receiving orders to take no prisoners, in consequence of specific acts of treachery on the part of the Boers. Your Majesty's petitioners humbly submit that such reprimand and orders could have but one meaning, and that they afford strong reason for not imputing criminal conduct to Lieutenant Witton. 10. Lieutenant Witton states, in a letter of 8th March, 1902, that Sergeant-Major Clarke asked him to intercede with Lieutenant Morant on behalf of the men (British) in favour of Visser, that he agreed with the men that Visser should not be shot, and mentioned it to Lieutenant Morant. Lieutenant Morant, he says, refused to grant his intercession, telling Lieutenant Witton he was justified in what he was doing, and saying that if the men made any fuss he would shoot the prisoner himself. 11. Your Majesty's petitioners, while believing that, under the circumstances hereinbefore appearing, Lieutenant Witton ought not to have been punished as a criminal, desire to place before your Majesty further considerations which they humbly submit should move your Majesty's clemency towards Lieutenant Witton. 12. These circumstances are as follows:--Early on the morning of 23rd January, 1902, and while the court-martial was still in course of trying the prisoners at Pietersburg, an attack on the town by Commandant Beyers took place. So far as your Majesty's petitioners can learn, Lieutenant Witton, then under arrest, but under no personal danger from the Boers, was ordered and permitted to, and did, resume his arms, and until the attack was happily repulsed stand ready if needed to do honourable and perilous service in his country's and your Majesty's cause. Your Majesty's petitioners, while acknowledging that by your Majesty's regulations, such circumstances were not technically or necessarily an answer to the charge, if the same were otherwise established, do nevertheless most earnestly beg your Majesty to graciously regard them as of sufficient weight to induce your Majesty to
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:22:11 GMT -5
remember anything more; I must have dropped into sound sleep. When I awoke the nurse was standing near. He said, "Oh! you are awake at last; what time do you think it is ?" "About nine o'clock!" I replied. "Well, it is five o'clock in the evening, and I have two pints of milk, a pint of beef tea, and two lots of brandy waiting for you; which will you have first ?" From then I slowly improved. Though so close to death, it rarely, if ever, troubled my head; thoughts of my freedom and return to Australia, my native land, were always paramount. One day, just after I had turned the corner, and was on the road towards recovery, I received from my brother in Australia a copy of the opinion of the Hon. Isaac Isaacs, K.C., and also a copy of the Australian petition to His Majesty the King, which had been based on the opinion, and which I was informed was being supported by tens of thousands of His Majesty's subjects. It was a clear and truthful summary of my case. I read and re-read it, and felt that my release was assured; such a petition could not be long refused. The following is a copy:-- AUSTRALIA. The humble petition of the undersigned, your Majesty's most loyal subjects, Sheweth:-- 1. Prior to May, 1900, George Ramsdale Witton was a gunner of the Royal Australian Artillery, in the service of the Crown in the Defence Forces of the colony of Victoria, Australia. He was born on the 28th day of June, 1874, and is now twenty-eight years of age. 2. On or about 1st May, 1900, the said Witton left Australia for South Africa with the Imperial Australian Regiment, under Lieutenant-Colonel Kelly, with the intention and purpose of serving in the military forces of the Crown against the Boers. 3. After being some time in South Africa he offered his services as a member of the Irregular Corps of the Bushveldt Carbineers, and was accepted, receiving, in consequence of his previous knowledge and practice of artillery, and notwithstanding his inexperience as an officer up to that time, a commission as lieutenant in that corps. He joined the corps on 13th July, 1901. 4. On 5th August, 1901, he joined the Spelonken detachment of the corps, then under the command of Captain Hunt. Captain Hunt, however, with the main body of the Spelonken detachment, when Lieutenant Witton arrived, was some miles away engaging the enemy, and was killed on 7th August. Lieutenant Witton never saw or had communication with Captain Hunt, but was always under the immediate command of Lieutenant Morant, as superior officer, and Lieutenants Handcock and Picton, all of whom were senior to Lieutenant Witton. 5. Lieutenant Witton is at present a prisoner of the Crown at Lewes, England, under sentence of penal servitude for life, by way of commutation by the General Commanding Officer, Lord Kitchener, of a sentence of death by court-martial, upon the trial of Lieutenant Witton on two charges of murder of Boers. 6. No official copy of the proceedings is at present obtainable in Australia, but reliable information has been collected from reports in public newspapers, notably in the weekly edition of the "Times" for 18th April, 1902, and from persons having actual knowledge of the events, and from communications from Lieutenant Witton. From these sources the following circumstances appear to be those connected with the two cases in question. 7. The first charge was that of murdering a Boer named Visser. Visser was captured wounded shortly after Captain Hunt's death. Lieutenants Morant, Handcock, Picton, and Witton had a consultation with reference to Visser, and after that Visser was summarily shot, without trial and without charge. When captured he wore a soldier's khaki jacket or shirt, and was in possession of a pair of Captain Hunt's trousers. Although found guilty of the charge by the court-martial, your Majesty's petitioners humbly urge that for the reasons following no guilt in respect thereof is properly imputable to Lieutenant Witton. 8. He was the junior subaltern. He had so recently joined the corps and the detachment that he could not have personal knowledge of the material facts hereinafter mentioned. It was within a week of his joining the detachment that Visser's case occurred. Lieutenants Morant and Handcock had been for some time (over a month) under the direct control of Captain Hunt, and, therefore, in a position to know exactly what orders he had given and transmitted. The first witness for the prosecution--Sergeant S. Robertson--admitted in cross-examination that Captain Hunt had given direct orders that no prisoners were to be taken, and had also on one occasion abused the witness for bringing in three prisoners without orders. Lieutenant Morant deposed that not only had Captain Hunt given these orders, but also that he had named his authority, Colonel Hamilton. It is true that at the court-martial Colonel Hamilton proved that no such orders had been issued, but that, as your Majesty's petitioners humbly urge, could not be known to Lieutenant Witton at the time Visser was shot. If Captain Hunt informed his subordinates that Colonel Hamilton had given such orders, and Captain Hunt directly required obedience to them, it is humbly submitted that Lieutenant Witton had no course open to him as a soldier but to obey. The order and the interpretation of that order were not left in any doubt according to the statements of his superiors. It is humbly further submitted that Lieutenant Witton would have much exceeded his right, would have been insubordinate, and as an officer been guilty of a serious dereliction of duty if he had ventured to demand from his superior officer proof of the truth of his statement as to the issue and meaning of the orders in question before yielding obedience, because if justified in demanding such proof from Lieutenant Morant, such demand might, as it seems to your Majesty's petitioners, be equally demanded from every officer short of the General commanding. Your Majesty's petitioners humbly submit there was no criminality in a young and comparatively inexperienced lieutenant, with no previous experience in the field, less than a month with his corps, less than a week with his detachment, placing faith in and yielding obedience to the distinct assurances and positive commands of two superior officers, having vastly better means of knowledge, and with all the advantage and power of rank and authority. We also rest reliance on the circumstances of time and place, which seem to be of the highest importance. At a great distance from still higher authority, even had he been disposed to question the authenticity and construction of his orders, immersed in services of continuous activity and serious pressure, engaged with an enemy whose methods, in some instances at least, as is well known, lent some colour to the likelihood of such orders, and having no reason for disbelieving what he was told, and led by a masterful mind and strong personal force, your Majesty's petitioners beg your Majesty's most gracious consideration to the difficult position of this young and inexperienced officer. Lieut. Colonel Pratt, in his "Handbook on Military Law," at page 113, says:--"A soldier, again, is bound to obey the lawful command of his superior officer, and before a court-martial it would be held that a soldier was bound to obey the command of his superior officer, if the illegality of it was not on the face of it apparent." Clode's "Military and Martial Law," at page 56, states that "The power and responsibility of the superior officer, i.e., the senior officer of the highest rank present, is always supreme." No doubt can ever have existed, as your Majesty's petitioners believe, that Captain Hunt had given the orders referred to. Civil-Surgeon Johnson testified that he had heard Captain Hunt reprimand Lieutenant
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:21:41 GMT -5
be awarded a long term of imprisonment, he should be allowed to serve the greater part of it on license, under police surveillance, on recognisances of such a nature as would act as a check on his predatory instincts, at the same time giving him the opportunity of regaining his position as a useful and respectable citizen. Ordinary prisoners, or those serving a second or third sentence, while kept in confinement should be allowed to earn a remission of a part of their sentence by industry and good conduct; this would also be an inducement for a rebellious prisoner to conform to prison discipline. Habitual offenders, or those who make crime an occupation when at liberty, should be kept confined on an indeterminate sentence in an institution specially provided for them. The discipline should not be too rigid; they should be kept at some kind of reproductive work, and in return receive a small gratuity per month, which they might be allowed to spend on any extras in food or whatever they wished for themselves. These men should only be allowed at large when a tribunal that has based its opinions on scientific principles is satisfied that the prisoner's reformation is accomplished. There are many classes of work on which prisoners could be employed, such as making bricks and other building material, also smelting and moulding iron, thus providing, the first essentials for an extension of a railway system. The labour of prisoners made use of in such reproductive work should be supervised by artisan warders. The "silent system," or the suppression of speech, is undoubtedly as a punishment an unqualified success. Suppression of speech, together with the gloomy surroundings, the petty and trivial annoyances to which prisoners are subjected from officious warders, and the enforced daily attendance at religious instruction, which usually terminates with a dirge-like hymn, is the cause of many prisoners developing symptoms of mental weakness. A long sentence under the silent system is more inhuman than the brutal treatment awarded to prisoners in early Australian convict days. Some natures it will brutalise and train in crime; others it will wreck physically and mentally. The result in the former case means a return to crime and prison; in the latter a committal to an asylum or workhouse. In either case the victims become a burden on their country for the remainder of their days. The "silent system" should be reserved and applied only as a punishment to refractory prisoners. CHAPTER XXIII. THE PETITION FOR RELEASE. When on parade, the men in a party were always placed according to their height. I thus became a leading file, as I was the tallest man in the prison, standing a trifle over 6 ft. 2 in. in my prison boots. After taking my allotted place in the party, the process of searching was gone through. I was ordered to unbutton my coat, vest, and breeches at the knee, take my cap in my right hand, and my handkerchief in the left, and hold them out at arms' length while an officer passed his hands over my body. This search is carried out four times a day, on going out and returning from labour. When the search is over, and the coast clear--that is, when the old offenders are out of the way--the "stars" march out past the saluting base, where stand the Governor and chief warder, whose duty it is to take down the number of men in each party. The number returning from labour must correspond with the number passed out to labour. The cell is also searched every night before locking up. Once a month a prisoner is subjected to what is known as a "dry bath." The whole party is marched from the works to the bathroom, and one by one put into an empty bath and subjected to a private bodily search. The Portland workshops are situated about a quarter of a mile away from the prison, and are fairly extensive, nearly one hundred men being employed at tinsmithing and foundry work alone. I was now put on to learn soldering tinware. I soon mastered this art sufficiently to do practical work, and was engaged in making all the kinds of tinware used in the prison service, and biscuit tins and oil bottles for the navy. For two days I kept at this work among the acid fumes. My appetite had now almost vanished; I hardly slept at all, and one of my boots had crippled me; I kept up, however, thinking that my indisposition was the result of the change of surroundings. On the third morning I felt very ill and quite unfit for work; I then made an application to see the doctor in the usual way, which necessitated waiting until the dinner hour and parading with the "reporting sick." I went out to work, but as soon as I started I felt dizzy and faint; I went to the warder in charge, and asked to be allowed to rest a little. He, seeing that I was ill, ordered me to be taken to the infirmary at once. I was escorted there by an assistant-warder, and admitted. I was greatly struck by the beautiful cleanliness of the hospital; as I toiled up to the "star" ward, I noticed that the railings were polished like burnished steel, the cells were roomy and scrupulously clean, and in each were an iron bedstead, a table, and chair. The walls were painted a pale green on white, the floors were carpeted with coir matting, the passages with stout canvas, the whole building seemed as silent as the grave. I had not long to wait before the medical officer came in. I described my symptoms, and drew his attention to my foot. After examining me, he remarked, "A touch of influenza." Turning to the warder-nurse, he ordered me a dose of ether and ammonia, and a lead lotion dressing for my foot. I was then ordered to bed, where I remained for eight days; by that time my health appeared to have improved, and my foot was well again. I was discharged from the hospital with a highly-prized concession--boots to measure, without nails. I felt very weak when leaving, and could scarcely walk; I was quite knocked up on reaching the hall, about 200 yards distant. I was again pigeon-holed in my 3 x 7 cell on the basement. The following day being Sunday, I had another rest, with one hour's exercise. The following week dragged on; I could neither eat nor sleep, and my head ached as though it would split. Cramped up in my narrow cell, in a hall in which were nearly 200 prisoners, with an atmosphere which words fail to describe, I rapidly became seriously ill. I kept on with my work until Friday, when I again applied to see the doctor. I went out as usual with my party, and was working on zinc, using "live acid." The fumes almost suffocated me; my head reeled, and for a time I became oblivious of everything. On coming round, I shivered as though suffering from ague; I was again hurried away to the hospital. I thought I was suffering from malarial fever, and told the doctor so. I believe I was treated for that complaint for nearly a week, but I gradually became worse. My case puzzled both the hospital doctors; so one day samples of my blood were taken and forwarded to the Institute of Pathological Research for examination. A reply at once came back that the case was typhoid fever. I was then removed to the end of the ward, isolated and quarantined, and screened off by two sets of carbolised sheets. My condition was considered to be very critical; I was dieted on peptonised milk, Valentine's meat juice, and a little brandy. For nine long weeks I lay hovering over the fine line between life and death; I was so weak I could not raise my hand. Just as the last feeble spark of life seemed about to flicker out I rallied slightly, but did not make any progress. I could not sleep, and opiates had no effect upon me. The day warder-nurse who attended me told me afterwards that often, when he went off duty at night, he never expected to see me alive in the morning. About 7 o'clock one morning I had my breakfast of milk, and do not
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:21:12 GMT -5
the door. To my dismay, I found this was my first experience of the system of searching, or "having the bailiffs in," as it was called in the prison. About the middle of August my hopes were again raised, and as suddenly shattered. On this occasion the Governor sent for me; I was required at his office. On entering, I noticed two footmarks painted on the floor in front of his desk, and pointing in the prescribed military angle of 45 degrees. These I was requested to stand upon, and was then asked by the Governor to give my register number and name. "Your six months' separate confinement is completed on Monday next," he said, "and you will be transferred to Portland Convict Prison." Then he added: "There are a number of letters for you accumulated here, which you are not entitled by prison regulations to receive. What am I to do with them?" No mention of freedom, and, what I prized next, my letters were denied me. "Do with them?" I said. "Considering they are letters from Australia, most of them written before I was convicted, and forwarded from South Africa, can you not do the same as your predecessor? Let me read them and return them to you to be destroyed." I urged and entreated to be allowed to receive them; I had had no news from the homeland for over two months; but no, the new Governor was inexorable; I must abide by the rules of the prison. So, after requesting that the letters be sent with my clothes to my friends, I went back to my cell more depressed than ever. The following day I was photographed for future identification, front and profile being taken. On Monday morning I and three other prisoners were manacled and chained together; two warders took charge of us, and in the prison brake we were taken to the station and entrained for Portland. I had heard glowing accounts of the prison there; it was the next best place to Parkhurst, the convalescent station in the Isle of Wight. The discipline was less stringent, there was better food and more of it, and mostly outdoor labour. Our escort officers were fairly lenient and good fellows. Portland was reached about six o'clock in the evening. Arriving at the prison we were admitted and the irons removed. We were taken to the reception cells, where we changed our clothes. Supper was then served, a pint of fatty cocoa and a 12-Oz. loaf of coarse brown bread; then to bed. I slept very little during the night, and was awake when the bell rang out at 5.30 in the morning. For breakfast the liquid refreshment was alleged tea, a black, vile-looking concoction, sweetened with molasses, which robbed it of any flavour it may have possessed, and a 10-oz. loaf. A warder then came and conducted me to the bathroom, afterwards to the tailor's shop, where I was fitted with new clothes. The shoemaker was then visited, and I was provided with a pair of heavy iron-shod boots for outdoor wear, and a pair of light shoes for Sunday. Afterwards came the visit to the medical officer at the infirmary, where I was examined, sounded, and weighed. It was now almost dinner time, the bell had rung, and parties of prisoners were being marched on to the parade ground from all directions. I was hurried back to the reception cells and taken before the Governor, Major Briscoe, who spoke kindly to me, and gave me a few words of very sound advice. Returning to my cell, I found my dinner waiting for me--a lump of fat, tough "Dorset tup" mutton, with half a pint of the liquor it had been boiled in, a few potatoes, and an 8-oz. loaf of bread. I had my dinner, and waited, wondering what would be the next item on the programme. After a little time I was again conducted below and stripped. A most minute description was then made for future identification; every small scar and mark was recorded. Having now got through all the preliminaries, I was ready to be "located." During the evening I was taken to the "star" ward, F North Hall. Here I was placed in a cell which would not make a decent dog kennel; its dimensions were 3 ft. wide, 7 ft. long, 7 ft. high. A small window of opaque glass beside the door admitted light from a gas jet outside. A canvas hammock slung from end to end of the cell monopolised more than half its space; a small drop table, 12 X 15 in., which hung from the wall, and a wooden stool, with the usual cell utensils, completed the furniture. This, then, I mused, was my new home, in which I was practically to pass my lifetime; the outlook was anything but cheering. The chaplain came to see me, took down a few notes regarding my case, and prevailed upon me to join the choir. I slept badly that night, and in the morning my head ached; I had no appetite; I just ate a little of the crust of my loaf. At seven o'clock my door was thrown open; standing in the doorway and glancing along the hail, I recognised many faces I had seen at Lewes, also my three companions of the trip down. We then fell in, in double file, and marched to chapel for morning prayers, for which about fifteen minutes was allowed. The General Confession or the Litany was intoned on these occasions. After chapel we were marched back to the parade ground, and as I had not yet been posted to any party, I was called out by the principal warder and afterwards conducted to No. 3 party, where I was engaged in tinsmithing and foundry work. The pronounced opinion of the general public is, I believe, in favour of reforming the present English prison system. Thinkers who do not especially class themselves as philanthropists affirm the necessity of classifying prisoners so as to conserve any good that remains part of a man's character at the time of his committal to prison. The object of imprisonment is so to punish a criminal that the punishment will act as a deterrent on him in the future, and check others who might be disposed to menace society. From observations made while in prison I am of the opinion that many of the present methods of dealing with prisoners are calculated to increase crime, rather than to repress it. Criminals should be divided into three classes--Habitual, Ordinary, and First Offenders. Each class should be kept apart, but this cannot be accomplished by confinement in one common prison. In England those belonging to the first offenders, or "star class," are placed in the same prison as the old offenders, but are not supposed to come in contact with them. Yet they work together in the same yard, though in different parties, and at times prisoners move about indiscriminately, and talk to each other. Warders differ much in disposition, and some, less strict than others, allow the contact that the arrangements are designed to prevent. Less supervision would be needed if prisoners were graded and confined in separate prisons. On one occasion, with a party of the "star class," I was returning from labour. Turning a corner, we came suddenly upon a party of "old lags" working on a tram line. Our warder peremptorily ordered us to turn "right about," in which position we still faced the remnant of another party of a similar class. The warder, taking in the serious nature of the situation, facetiously gave us the order, "Shut your eyes!" The undesirables were then quickly mustered and hustled out of our way. The treatment of first offenders is of the utmost importance. Great discrimination should be used in dealing with men convicted for a first offence; these should be systematically sorted and graded, and kept at work in separate parties. Among the first offenders, with whom I had the most experience, I was brought in contact with some of the most depraved specimens of humanity that could be found inside or outside of any prison. I also met men with refined feelings and instincts, to whom a sentence of a few months would be a more severe expiation than a long term to those before-mentioned. If a man of previous good character
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:20:45 GMT -5
Secretary of State to Lord Roberts, the Commander-in-Chief, stating my case, and asking for a remission of the sentence. In course of time a reply came, which was brought to me by the Governor. It was to the effect that the Commander-in-Chief declined to make any remission of my sentence. This was a great blow to me, and seemed almost brutal in its significance. However, I hoped that the approaching Coronation would bring relief. Coronation day came at last, and instead of the long-looked-for freedom, every prisoner was given a special treat, and made the recipient of the King's bounty in the shape of a slice of plum pudding. I was then told by a warder that the Coronation had been suddenly postponed owing to the serious illness of His Majesty. I was also told that the war had terminated, and peace had been declared, and that the Boer Generals were visiting England as guests of the nation; also of the doings of the Australian cricketers. These items of news came like a ray of sunshine into my gloomy cell, raised my spirits, and tended to make life bearable, though it was very far from being worth living. Towards the end of June the necessary references as to character were forthcoming, and I was now transferred to the "star class," the division in which first offenders are kept apart from ordinary prisoners, and distinguished by a red star on each arm between the elbow and shoulder, and another on the front of the cap. The "star" receives no privilege other than those granted to the old offenders, and is subject to a more rigid discipline. This step brought with it no change of work; I was still kept at the same sedentary labour in my cell. I had expected much as the result of the change--a relaxation of discipline, more humane treatment, better food, outdoor labour, and other advantages; but I hoped in vain. I found great pleasure in reading, and I read as I worked anything and everything that was brought to me. At other times I would have put a lot of it aside as "dry," which I now simply devoured. Carlyle's works and essays fascinated me, causing me to forget my anxiety and troubles for the time being. Towards the end of my "separate," as this part of a prisoner's sentence is termed, I became morose and low-spirited. Nearly six months had passed, and my release seemed as far off as ever. Changes had taken place in the prison; a new Governor and chief warder had superseded the old ones, so I interviewed the new Governor for permission to petition again. My request was refused, and I was informed that, as I was a court-martial prisoner, I could only petition at intervals of not less than three months. This I considered hard and unfair, as it actually meant that I was not entitled to the same privileges as ordinary offenders. I was determined not to let the matter rest. I interviewed every Home Office official that visited the prison--prison inspectors, directors, and boards of visiting magistrates. To all I pleaded to be allowed to petition direct to His Majesty the King, but I was informed that such a procedure was impossible, that the Home Secretary was the highest power on earth a prisoner could appeal to. I must wait a little longer, and petition again. One day, about the end of July, just at the time when I was hopefully expecting to hear something regarding my release, two warders came to my cell, and threw open my door. One of them requested me in a cheery kind of way to bring out my clothes and bedding. What could it mean? Had my release come at last? Gathering up the things, I carried them out on to the landing, where they were carefully examined. I then had to gather them up and take them back to the cell again; here everything had been overhauled and thrown about. I was next requested to take off what I was wearing; these things also were carefully examined, and handed back to me. "That will do, get into them again," said the warder, as he walked out and closed
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:20:12 GMT -5
has earned 1460 marks, he will be kept in separate confinement and be employed not less than ten hours per day, exclusive of time allotted for meals. He may be permitted to write or receive a letter during the first week of his sentence, and for every 960 marks earned in this stage he will be accorded the privilege to write and receive one letter and receive a visit of twenty minutes duration, or write and receive a letter in lieu of a visit by not more than three friends or relatives. When he has earned 1460 marks in this stage he will be eligible to be transferred to a public works or convict prison. During the second stage he will be allowed the same privilege regarding writing and receiving letters and visits. He is to receive a gratuity of one shilling for every 240 marks earned in this stage, and will be distinguished by a narrow black cloth band on his sleeve, at the wrist and on the collar. In the third stage he is permitted to write and receive a letter and receive a visit for every 720 marks earned, with the option of 2 oz. additional bread, 1/2oz. margarine in place of porridge, and a half-hour additional exercise on Sundays. He is distinguished in this stage by yellow facings, and he may earn a gratuity of one shilling and sixpence for every 240 marks, but not more than eighteen shillings while in this stage. In the fourth stage he is permitted to write and receive a letter and a visit of thirty minutes' duration for every 480 marks earned, and to receive a gratuity of 2s. 6d. for every 240 marks, but not to exceed thirty shillings. He is distinguished by blue facings, and may be permitted to converse with a companion, selected by the Governor, during exercise on Sunday afternoon. In this stage a prisoner remains until the last year of his sentence. By continuous good conduct he is then eligible for the special class, the highest class of prisoners; its privileges are a blue uniform, a letter and visit every month, and the preference of any so-called privileged posts, such as infirmary or schoolmaster's orderly, also an extra gratuity of £3 should he join a prison aid society. He may be recommended for an extra remission not exceeding one week. A prisoner serving a sentence of seven years or over can earn £6; he can earn no more if he undergoes a life sentence. This money is paid to him by the police under whose surveillance he is while on license or ticket-of-leave. The greatest of all privileges is the red collar, usually given to a special class prisoner (very rarely to one in any other stage) when employed on any special work, such as painting or charging the furnace at the foundry. Then he is allowed to go about the prison unaccompanied by a warder. Greater trust is placed in these men, as they have so much to lose, and a breach of confidence is not so likely to occur. I had now commenced on the probationary stages of my sentence and for three long, heart-breaking, soul-killing days I picked oakum. The master-tailor then came to my cell, and I asked for other work. "I do not care how laborious it might be," I told him, "I will do anything but pick oakum." "Can you sew?" he inquired. "Yes!" I eagerly replied, though the art of needlework as far as I knew it was sewing on a button. I was brought a pair of scissors, two needles, a thimble, and the pieces of a prison jacket; after being shown how to place them together, I commenced work. I put the thimble on the wrong finger, but notwithstanding this, and the drawback of continually stitching my finger to the material, I made very good progress, and was kept at this work during my sojourn at Lewes. The routine became more and more monotonous as time dragged slowly on. My constitution was practically run down with the two years on active service; then came the close confinement, the foul and fetid atmosphere, and the disgusting sanitary arrangements. It is little wonder that I left Lewes in broken health. About a month after my arrival at Lewes I petitioned through the
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:18:46 GMT -5
Lewes, the crowning indignity of the prison service was enforced upon me. I had to submit to the operations of the barber. My hair was closely cropped all over with a pair of fine hair-clippers, and my face cleanly shaven; parting with my moustache seemed like parting with an old friend. A copy of the rules and regulations of the prison service, to which a prisoner has to conform, is furnished to each, and is neatly printed on cardboard and kept in a small portfolio in the cell. These rules are so numerous and so lengthy that it is impossible to give them verbatim. The following is a short abstract:-- A prisoner shall at all times preserve unbroken silence. He shall not communicate in any way with another prisoner except with the permission of one of the authorities. He shall use no obscene language nor be guilty of any indecent act or gesture. While in his cell or place of location he shall not make any unnecessary noise by singing, shouting, or whistling. He shall not leave his cell or other place of location without permission. He shall keep his cell and all prison property in his possession neat and clean. He shall not have in his possession anything he ought not to have. For mutiny or inciting to mutiny or personal violence on any officer or servant of the prison a prisoner will be liable to corporal punishment. Should a prisoner have any complaint to make regarding his food, he must complain immediately it is issued to him. Repeated frivolous or unfounded complaints will be treated as breaches of prison discipline, and punished accordingly. A prisoner must attend Divine service unless excused by the prison authorities. No prisoner shall be compelled to worship in the form contrary to his religious convictions. In the case of Nonconformists a minister of the persuasion of the prisoner shall from time to time be permitted to visit him. A prisoner should behave with reverence at Divine service. He shall be employed on steady hard labour for a period of not less than ten hours per day, exclusive of the time allotted for meals. A prisoner shall be permitted the use of a suitable library, educational and devotional books; if necessary, school instruction shall be administered. He must conform to the rules of the prison regarding hair-cutting and bathing, as may be deemed expedient to health and cleanliness. He may be allowed to interview the Governor to lodge complaints or make requests. He may also be permitted to interview a director, inspector, or member of the board of visiting magistrates, or the board of magistrates, or any representative of the Home Office who may from time to time visit the prison. He may also be allowed to petition the Secretary of State. Rules under the classification and remission system provide that:-- A prisoner's sentence shall be a question of marks, at the rate of six marks a day. He may, however, earn seven or eight marks a day, according to his industry and good conduct. He shall be allotted marks according to the degrees of industry, seven marks for a fair, but moderate day's work, eight marks for a day's steady hard labour and the full performance of his allotted task. A prisoner can thus by good conduct shorten his sentence by one-fourth. A prisoner under sentence for penal servitude for life must not expect his release until he has completed twenty years' imprisonment, nor will any number of marks be taken to represent his sentence. However, his marks earned will be recorded, and in due time considered by the Secretary of State. A prisoner for ill-conduct or any breach of prison regulations may forfeit any number of marks or the whole of his remission. A prisoner having earned the number of marks representing his sentence will be released on license for the remainder. His period of incarceration will be divided into stages (or classes). In the first, or probationary, stage, he must pass one year or until he has earned 2920 marks. During the first six monhts of his sentence, or until he has earned 1460 marks, he will be kept in separate confinement and be employed not less
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:18:16 GMT -5
cocoa was served in place of the gruel. By this time I felt hungry, and ate my loaf and drank my cocoa with eagerness. Then came again the banging and slamming of doors, the rattle of keys, and my own door was flung open. "Exercise. Close your door," shouted the warder. Leaving my cell, I hastened to the ground floor, where we fell-in in double file in the centre of the hall. When all were down we were called to "Attention," "Open order," "March." During this parade the Chief Warder made a daily inspection to see that every man had his uniform carefully brushed and his boots polished. In single file we were marched out into the yard, and forming a circle walked round and round for an hour. Exercise over, I returned to my cell for a few minutes, then more unlocking and banging of doors, as the warder shouted "Prayers." I was then conducted to the chapel, where "divine service" was held--at least, that was what they called it. On week days it was usually conducted by a warder in a most perfunctory manner; the way the prayers were gabbled over, to my mind, bordered on profanity. While prayers were being said and the Litany intoned I have seen tobacco passed round from one to another, and one morning I heard the following conversation:--"Say, jock, how is it you are back so soon? What happened this time?" "I got drunk, and was run in, and broke out of barracks and punched the provost-sergeant," replied Jock. Much the same methods prevailed in the other prisons where I was confined, excepting that the services were usually conducted by a chaplain. It is absolutely wrong to force prisoners to attend daily such a burlesque; that is, if these services are held with a view to softening the hearts of the wicked ones, and giving them an idea of living a better life. It affects them in two ways only--nine-tenths of them get hardened beyond any hope of redemption, the other tenth get softening of the brain or religious mania. Two good services held on Sunday in a reverent manner would be quite enough, and would have a good effect at least on the majority. It does not do any good to continually sing hymns like the following:-- "Have mercy, Lord, on me, As Thou wert ever kind, Let me, opprest with loads of guilt, Thy wonted mercy find. "Wash off my foul offence, And cleanse me from my sin, For I confess my crime, and see How great my guilt has been." The work of a prison chaplain is an extremely difficult one; besides being a thorough Christian, he requires to have a kind heart and some fellow feeling, also a large amount of tact and judgment, otherwise it would be better for all concerned if he never approached a prisoner. It is the duty of the chaplain of a convict prison to visit each prisoner separately in his cell at least twice a year. The following incidents came under my notice while I was in prison:--The chaplain entered the cell of a young lad who had been in the navy, and was serving a sentence for attempting to strike an officer. The greeting the lad received from this man of God was, "Well, are you another of the rape cases?" The prisoner, who was standing with his cap on, indignantly replied that he was not, he was there for attempting to strike an officer in the navy. "Take your cap off when you speak to me," haughtily replied the chaplain. The prisoner removed his cap and threw it on the floor, and requested that he should be left alone; if he wished to see a chaplain he would make an application. "I can see you when I wish," said the chaplain, as he banged the door. This chaplain had more prisoners reported and punished than any prison officer. Another chaplain at another prison, when going his round, entered a cell and found the prisoner with his head buried in his arms, sobbing; on returning from labour at dinner-time he had found a letter thrown on his bed containing the news of the death of his wife. "Well, my man, what's the matter with you?" asked the chaplain. When the prisoner had told him his bad news, he replied, "Ah, that is a common occurrence here." After delivering himself of that goodly measure of consolation he walked out. The same chaplain visited the hospital one morning, and came to a prisoner who had just been admitted after being examined by the medical officer. "What is the matter with you?" asked the chaplain. "I have neuralgia," answered the prisoner. "Very painful thing, very painful thing--that is, if you have got it," remarked the chaplain. There are exceptions, of course, and it is possible sometimes to meet a sympathetic minister in the prisons, but if he followed after those I have mentioned above, his task of reform would be almost a hopeless one. An avenue for the abuse of sacred rites is the administration of Holy Communion. I have seen some of the most depraved specimens of humanity, men without any sense of morality or probity, accept the Sacrament, thinking by doing so to gain favour in the eyes of the prison authorities through the chaplain. Others will partake of it merely for the sup of wine. I know of one man who was advised to go to Communion; when he returned he said, "I have been to Communion; it was tip-top wine, too, but I couldn't get enough of it." Prayers over, I went back to my cell and made a fresh start on the oakum. I had just settled down to this monotonous occupation when I heard another rattle of keys at my door, and the prison regimental sergeant-major came in. After a few cheery remarks, he asked me what work I had been put to. I told him. "I'll find you something more suitable than that," he said; "you can do some bookbinding, and write out a few lists for me; if there is anything you want, ask for it." "How often can I have a bath?" I asked. "You can have a hot one every morning; just ask your warder to send you down; if you don't get it, let me know," he replied. Without regarding the relative positions we occupied I thanked him for his kindness, and, as he was leaving, he told me the Governor wished to see me at dinner-time. That visit was like a ray of sunshine in my abode of gloom, and was productive of much that made the remainder of my stay at Gosport bearable. Dinner was served at 12 o'clock. It consisted of a pint of soup, three-quarters of a pound of potatoes, and four ounces of bread. I had just finished my dinner when I heard someone shout out, "Send Witton down." My door was opened, and a warder told me I was wanted below. I went down, and was ushered into the Governor's office. The Governor appeared to be interested in my case, probably on account of what had been recently published; he asked me to tell him briefly how I came to be in my present position. I explained as briefly as I could how Captain Hunt met his death, and the unfortunate ending of Lieutenant Morant's command, and the part I had taken in it. "It was a case of retaliation, then," he observed. After that interview I was treated with marked deference by the prison staff, and was allowed another hour's walking exercise during the afternoon. No restrictions regarding writing or receiving letters were enforced; my work now was merely an employment to kill time, and consisted of patching up old library books and writing out lists and forms. Sometimes, when my afternoon exercise was due, and it happened to be raining, I would be put on to cut up old rope into short lengths; the hardest and dry pieces I would cut extra short, hoping that in doing so I would be serving some other unfortunate a good turn. I remained at Gosport Military Prison from the 2nd to the 26th April. I was then transferred to Lewes, the Sussex County Civil Prison. On the morning of my departure from Gosport my khaki uinform was returned to me, and I was taken to Lewes in the same dress as that in which I arrived from South Africa. CHAPTER XXII. GAOL DISCIPLINE AND PRISON BLUNDERS. The transfer from prison to prison is a most trying experience; manacled and chained, one is subject to the prying looks and embarrassing remarks of inquisitive spectators. My journey to Lewes was uneventful. I and a young private were escorted by a colour-sergeant and two men; they were jolly fellows, and had not been to South Africa. They could not understand how a man could be sentenced to life imprisonment for shooting Dutchmen. "Wasn't that what you went there for?" they asked; "it's terrible hard luck. Do you smoke, sir? These," handing me a packet of cigarettes, "are only common fags, but I'll get some better ones at the railway station." My sympathetic escort was true to his word, and when we entrained at Portsmouth Station he produced a packet of savoury "Egyptians." We reached Brighton just as the London express arrived; its palatial cars and appearance of wealth and ease contrasted deeply with our war-worn uniforms and irons, and the gloomy destiny before us. We arrived at Lewes an hour earlier than we were expected, consequently, and luckily, there was no prison van to meet us. Hurrying off the platform, our escort requisitioned a "cabby," who drove us to the prison gate. All main entrances are the same, and all prisoners are on an equality. First the massive outer gate is passed through into a gloomy, tunnel-like passage, with another and inner gate at the end, then across a portion of the prison yard to the reception cells. Here my committal warrant was carefully examined; the irons were then removed, and again a full description was taken, including my height and weight. I was then taken to the clothing department, and here I donned the degrading garb of the convict--a drab jacket and cap, and knee breeches, grey stockings, and leather shoes, freely stamped with the broad arrow. I was then taken to the main hall and placed in cell No. 35, which was similar to the one I had left at Gosport. I was here given a cloth badge, which buttoned on my left breast, and upon which was stamped A4/35, signifying the place and number of my location. My dinner was then served, consisting of a small piece of boiled bacon and a quantity of haricot beans. In another small tin, which fitted into the one containing the beans and bacon, were a few black-looking potatoes, boiled in their jackets; on the top of these was a hard loaf of heavy brown bread. The only piece of cutlery was a wooden spoon. The meal did not present by any means a tempting appearance; the quantity was greater, but the quality was worse than the dietary at Gosport. Dinner over, the schoolmaster' paid me a visit. After questioning me as to my religion, and tastes in regard to reading matter, he left me, and returned shortly after with a pile of books. Those I had asked for were not included, but he had brought a magazine, several educational works, and a slate. The titles and numbers of the books were entered on a library card which I kept in my cell. Later on the chaplain came in; he was one of the exceptions in chaplains, and we had a long conversation. He expressed great astonishment at the severity of my sentence, and urged me not to worry too much about the future. He was my best friend during his short stay at Lewes; he visited me almost daily, and these visits were the only bright spots in that land of gloom and silence. The outlook at Lewes was very far from cheering. I was put to picking oakum again, and was herded with the old offenders, or "old lags," as they are termed in the prisons. Being a first offender, I should have been placed in what is called the "star class," but I had first to furnish the Governor with the names of two persons who could vouch for my previous good character. As I knew no one in England sufficiently for the purpose, it was necessary to write to Australia, and three months elapsed before I was admitted to the "star class." On the first morning after my arrival at
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:17:36 GMT -5
ground mounting to the heights above, and door after door passing into dim perspective. When my turn came to go up, I was asked my rank, regiment, crime, and sentence, and was then told to hand over all personal property in my possession. Among the things I handed over were a dozen packets of cigarettes, which had been given to me by an officer on the "Canada." I was then taken to a bathroom, and after a good hot bath, a complete outfit of clothes of navy blue serge and other kit were given to me; I was then sent to cell No. 36 on the top landing. I walked into the cell, which appeared to be about 7 feet wide by about 13 feet long by 10 feet high, with a vaulted brick ceiling. In the cell was a small wooden table, a wooden stool, a bed board, three small mattresses of the biscuit pattern, a hard pillow, three army blankets, and a number of tin utensils. I sat down on the stool and began taking a note of my surroundings. This, then, was to be my home for an indefinite period. I determined to try and make the best of everything, and settle down to the routine of prison life. My musings were suddenly disturbed by the gruff voice of a huge warder demanding why I did not close my door; I replied that I did not know it was my duty to close it, I had not been told to do so. After a long reprimand, I was given strict injunctions always to close my door when entering or leaving my cell. Shortly after there was a rattle of tin cans outside, and a key in my door, which was thrown open. Supper was being served; I was handed a pint of oatmeal gruel and six ounces of dry white bread. This was my first meal in an English prison, and it was anything but gratifying. When supper was finished the library warder came to me with a bundle of books, from which I chose Dickens' "Little Dorrit." Its tale of the old Marshalsea prison life interested me greatly. I read until locking-up time, which at Gosport was a quarter to eight. I was told that I must be in bed by eight o'clock, when the lights would be turned out. Though very tired, even in this abode of silence I could not sleep; I lay for hours thinking. They were the heaviest hours it was ever my lot to know; they were as weary as they were bitter. My hopes of a military career were irretrievably lost, my life blighted; I had been proclaimed to the world a felon, immured for a lifetime, and all brought about by the observance of the first duty of a soldier, "obedience to orders." At midnight I became oblivious of everything, and was only awakened by the clang of the bell at half-past five. After washing, dressing, and arranging my bedding, my door was again flung open, and a warder and orderly came in with a bundle of short pieces of hard tarred rope. "I have brought you some work," said the warder. "Do you know how to pick oakum?" "I do not," I replied. "Very well, you will learn now." The orderly was then requested to instruct me in the art. Taking a strand of the rope, he rubbed it backwards and forwards on his knee, then taking it between his forefinger and thumb he frayed it into a woolly mass. He whispered to me, "These 'ere 'ard bits," showing a short length of hard dry rope, "yer want to 'ammer on the floor, but don't do it when there's anybody about, as 'e'll 'ear yer." I returned him my grateful thanks for his "tip," and promised to try it. I was then left with several pounds of rope, which was to be my task for the day. Prior to my imprisonment my ideas of a convict's life centred round bread and water and picking oakum; they were almost realised. Sitting down, I commenced to unravel the awful stuff, but no matter how I tried I could not get it anything near as fine as the sample; to make matters worse, my fingers being tender, the tar commenced to burn them. For about an hour I worked steadily, until my shoulders ached and my fingers were almost raw. Then came breakfast, my second prison meal, which consisted of the same amount of dry bread as for supper; three-quarters of a pint of
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:16:59 GMT -5
February, 1902. H. W. HUTSON, Capt., Court Provost Marshal, Pretoria District. 27th February, 1902. The 2nd July, the first date mentioned in Lord Kitchener's report, was the date on which six Boer prisoners were shot, when Captains Taylor and Robertson were in charge at Spelonken, and for the murder of whom Captain Taylor was tried and acquitted (details page 137). The 2nd July Lieutenant Morant was not serving with the Spelonken detachment, and I had not then joined the Carbineers, but was at East London, in Cape Colony. There is one fact, however, and that is, no one has yet been punished for the shooting of the six Boers on the 2nd July. The court-martial, after a most exhaustive trial, acquitted Morant and Handcock on the charge of shooting the German missionary (see Chapter XIX.). CHAPTER XXI. "IMPRISONMENT FOR LIFE!" The distinction between a trial by court-martial and a trial by civil court is illustrated by the trial of Barend Celliers, a Boer, for the murder of a British officer, which took place about twelve months after the trial of the Carbineers. I extract the following:-- "The trial of Barend Celliers, an Orange Free State field-cornet, for the murder of Lieutenant Boyle, a British officer, in 1901, was concluded at Bloemfontein. Celliers did not deny shooting Lieutenant Boyle, but pleaded not guilty on the ground that he had obeyed the orders of Commandant Philip Botha. General De Wet, who had previously held a court-martial on Celliers for shooting Lieutenant Boyle, and had acquitted him, gave evidence that Philip Botha, who had died some time ago, had expressed himself very strongly against Lieutenant Boyle, but he was not aware that Botha had ordered Boyle to be shot, though he might have done so without his knowledge. The jury acquitted Celliers." Lieutenant Boyle was for a time the British officer in charge at Dewetsdorp, and for some reason or other became very obnoxious to the Boers of the town, the women especially hating him. Philip Botha, whose commando was in the neighbourhood, said to Celliers and others, "If ever we get Dewetsdorp again, I shall settle up with Lieutenant Boyle." When the town was recaptured Boyle was taken prisoner with other officers, but was kept separate from them. After he had been held a prisoner for about a week, Celliers went to his tent accompanied by another Boer, and ordered him out on the veldt. When some distance from the laager, Celliers (who said he had been ordered by Philip Botha to shoot him) informed Boyle that he had five minutes for prayer, and shot him in the back while he was still on his knees praying. No court-martial or pretence of court-martial was ever held by the Boers upon Lieutenant Boyle, and no charge was ever made directly against him. When General De Wet inquired into the case he held Philip Botha responsible, and took no action because the latter was dead. The jury agreed with his decision. These cases are sufficient to justify my belief that courts--martial and military tribunals should be speedily wiped out of existence. A trial by judge and jury, in an ordinary court, should never under any circumstances be departed from. I left Pretoria on the morning of the 27th, and reached Nauuport about midnight. At 2 o'clock I was awakened by a crash and a sudden jolt, which almost threw me from the upper berth in which I was lying; the train then suddenly stopped. Upon inquiry from my guard I learned that our train had collided with another, stabled in the siding. Two carriages and the van were much splintered and derailed, and had to be switched off. This mishap delayed us about two hours. We arrived at De Aar at midday on Saturday; here I tipped my guard to get me some lunch. Leaving De Aar we passed through the great Karoo desert, where for hundreds of miles, as far as the eye could reach, was the same monotonous view of bare kopje and barren veldt; the only vestige of herbage is the stunted karoo bush. I passed through Matjesfontein, the model village of South Africa, the property of the Hon. J. D. Logan, who later figured prominently in the efforts that brought about my release. On reaching Capetown I was taken to the Castle Military Prison; there I met Major Lenehan, who was detained waiting embarkation for Australia. I informed him of the fate of his two officers, of which he was not aware. Lieutenant Picton was detained at the Castle, but not under the same restraint, he being permitted to go outside under escort. I sent for Mr. Rail, the Government agent for Australian troops, and inquired if he had received my telegram from Pretoria; he said that he had not, nor had he received any news whatever regarding the affair. Upon acquainting him with the facts, he advised me to write out a statement of the case, which he would forward to the Victorian Government. He kept his promise; I know it was sent, and received by Sir Alexander Peacock, then Premier of Victoria. The military authorities suppressed all knowledge of the findings of the court. While at Capetown I wrote several letters giving a brief account of the facts; I also sent another cable on the 8th March, which I paid for at ordinary rates, but all were suppressed. No knowledge of my fate reached my relatives, nor did any news regarding the affair reach Australia until Major Lenehan arrived in Melbourne on 25th March, a month after I had been sentenced. I was detained at the Castle some days, during which time I was kept under strict surveillance; on two occasions only was I allowed to be visited by friends from outside. Captain Baudinet, a brother officer, was refused permission to see me by the Provost Marshal and the headquarters authorities. On the morning of 9th March I was taken on board the "Canada," lying at the South Arm Docks; two military police accompanied me, one of whom said to the regimental police sergeant, when handing me over, "Keep your eye on Witton; he'll try to escape if he gets a chance." I had not thought of doing any such thing; if I had wished to escape I could have done so long before. Morant was offered time and again at Pietersburg the opportunity of getting away; the best horses would be at his disposal outside the lines, and everything ready any time he wanted to go, but he would not take advantage of it. We all preferred to see it through. I was placed in a small cabin in the guard-room, presumably for extra security; this proved to be a blessing in disguise. Before the boat sailed the guard-room was filled with drunken and rowdy troops. The first few days I fared rather badly, as I had to trust to the courtesy of the prisoners there to serve up my meals; I was more often forgotten than not. On the third day I asked to see the officer commanding the troops on board; he came to see me during the daily inspection. I told him how I was situated, and asked permission to have my meals sent from the saloon. This was granted, and I was allowed to make my own arrangements with the cook. Lieutenant Picton, who was on board under no restraint, arranged everything satisfactorily. Afterwards, by making a chum of the police sergeant, I was provided with a servant for the rest of the voyage, and in the company of the sergeant I spent most of my time during the day on deck; I never then went short of anything that money could buy. I received the sympathy of all on board. One day, while promenading on the deck, I was pointed out to a well-known British General, who was sitting on the bridge deck. "There's young Witton," a bystander remarked. "I know him, I know him; it's a d--shame; pity there isn't more like him in South Africa," burst out the General. There were over two thousand troops on board, and my situation was much discussed and commented upon. It was proposed to get up a petition there and then praying for a remission of my sentence, but I thought it quite unnecessary, as the Australian Government would be in receipt of all particulars of my case, and an investigation would probably be demanded before I reached England. I did not expect to be long a prisoner; in two months' time there would be the Coronation, and this I expected would bring liberty to all military prisoners. My voyage to England, in spite of this, was not an enjoyable one. I was being taken away from my homeland into unmerited exile, a stranger in a strange land, branded as a criminal; these thoughts brought with them extreme mental pain and anxiety. After coaling at Las Palmas, during which time I was kept confined in my cabin, the "Canada" proceeded on her journey, and reached Queenstown on Easter Sunday. Here I got a glimpse of the Emerald Isle; being springtime, it did not belie its name. Queenstown has a magnificent harbour, far superior to anything I had then seen. The Irish troops who were on board, principally Cork militia, were disembarked. While in port I was handed an Irish newspaper, a pro-Boer journal, in which was published a long article headed "A Sad Tale from the Veldt." Its infamous statements were obviously the efforts of a malign imagination, as false as they were sensational, yet a recital of these was allowed to be published broadcast. Lieutenant Picton, on his arrival in England, flatly contradicted these vile assertions, but it was an impossible task to suppress them when pitted against the ghoulish journalism of the world. South Africa was under martial law, and those who protested there became marked men, and ran a risk of being imprisoned on some trumped-up charge. Others, suspected of a desire to make disclosures, were silenced by a promise of an important post under the new administration. Such promises, although unofficial, had a good effect in the policy of suppression. After leaving Queenstown the "Canada" headed for Southampton. I remained on deck until dark, hoping to see Morant's longwished-for beacon, "the Ushant light on the starboard bow," but the night was very foggy and the light was not in evidence. Passing up the Solent, past the Needles and close to the Isle of Wight, in Southampton Waters, we arrived at our destination about midday on 2nd April. Labels similar to those used by tradesmen when sending out goods were issued to us, inscribed with our number, name, and regiment, and we were instructed to attach them to our dress. It seemed a ridiculous farce for a man to have to label himself, but the motive in this case was, I was told, to assist the police in identifying and forwarding drunken Tommies to their destination. I still have my label in my possession. During the afternoon, when the troops had all disembarked, an escort of marines came on board to take charge of the prisoners. I was again handcuffed, on this occasion with a young Imperial lieutenant, who emerged from among the Tommies in the guard-room. We then entrained for Gosport. After leaving the train we travelled the last stage to the Gosport Military Prison in a waggonette. When the vehicle pulled up at the outer gate and set us down to await admission, I indulged in a few last whiffs of a cigarette. Whilst doing so I took a survey of the prison building, with its forbidding walls and long rows of small barred windows, and felt awed and chilled by the gloomy and silent air of the place--a foretaste of the life I was about to enter upon. At last the wicket-gate was opened, and we filed through into a small courtyard; here the irons were removed from our aching wrists; then, passing through more gates and stout doors, we entered the main hall, where strict silence had to be observed. We were here called up one by one before the Chief Warder. While waiting I looked around me. There was a long corridor with three terraces of cells on either side, fronted with polished iron rails, a corkscrew staircase from the
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:16:16 GMT -5
of the officers tried by court-martial, who, though found guilty of manslaughter, escaped with the minor punishment of being cashiered." "Age," April, 1902:--"The suggestion that the Boers were killed in a spirit of revenge for the ill-treatment of Captain Hunt is also discounted by Lord Kitchener's statement that no such ill-treatment was proved, and that there were 'no extenuating circumstances.'" "Adelaide Register," 13th June, 1904:--"The accused pleaded that the Boers in the district which they had to patrol were merely bands of marauders who had 'stripped and mutilated a brother officer, but Lord Kitchener reported that no such maltreatment could be proved." "Leader," April, 1902:--"It is not conceivable that Lord Kitchener would have approved the sentence of death unless there was some reason shown for this unalterable punishment." "Commercial Advertiser," New York, April, 1902:--"The impartial punishment of colonials by Lord Kitchener should check the torrent of abuse on the Continent against Great Britain." The following is a true copy of the findings of the court, and furnishes a complete answer and direct contradiction to Lord Kitchener's statement that there were "no extenuating circumstances":-- CASE I.--VISSER CASE. SENTENCE. The court sentence the prisoner Sentence. Lieut. H. H. Morant, Bushveldt Carbineers, to suffer death by being shot. Death. Signed at Pretoria this 29th of January, 1902. H. G. DENNY, Lieut.-Col., C. S. COPLAND, President. Judge Advocate. RECOMMENDATION TO MERCY. The court strongly recommend the prisoner to mercy on the following grounds:-- 1. Extreme provocation by the mutilation of the body of Capt. Hunt, who was his intimate personal friend. 2. His good service during the war, including his capture of Field-Cornet T. Kelly in the Spelonken. 3. The difficult position in which he was suddenly placed, with no previous military experience and no one of experience to consult. Signed at Pretoria the 29th day of January, 1902. Confirmed--H. C. DENNY, Lt.-Col., KITCHENER, General. President. 25th February, 1902. Promulgated at Pretoria, 26th of February, 1902, and extracts taken. Sentence carried out at Pretoria on the 27th February, 1902. H. W. RUTSON, Asst. Prov. Marshal, Pretoria, 27th February, 1902. Pret. Dist. EIGHT BOERS CASE. SENTENCE. The court sentence the prisoners--Sentence. Lieut. H. H. Morant, Bushveldt Carbineers, to suffer death by being shot. Death. Lieut. P. J. Handcock, Bushveldt Carbineers, to suffer death by being shot. Death. Lieut. G. R. Witton, Bushveldt Carbineers, to suffer death by being shot. Death. Signed at Pietersburg, this 4th of February, 1902. H. C. DENNY, Lt.-Col., C. S. COPLAND, Major, President. Judge Advocate. RECOMMENDATION TO MERCY. The court recommend Lieut. H. H. Morant to mercy on the following grounds:-- Provocation received by the maltreatment of the body of his intimate friend, Capt. Hunt. Want of previous military experience and complete ignorance of military law and military procedure. His good service throughout the war. The court recommend Lieut. P. J. Handcock and Lieut. G. R. Witton to mercy on the following grounds:-- 1. The court consider both were influenced by Lieut. Morant's orders, and thought they were doing their duty in obeying them. 2. Their complete ignorance of military law and custom. 3. Their good services throughout the war. Signed at Pietersburg this 4th day of February, 1902. H. C. DENNY, Lt.-Col., President. I confirm the finding and sentence in the case of Lieuts. Morant and Handcock. I confirm the finding in the case of Lieut. Witton, but commute the sentence to one of penal servitude for life. 25th February, 1902. KITCHENER, General. Promulgated at Pretoria on the 5th February, 1902, and extracts taken. Sentence carried out at Pretoria on the 27th February, 1902. H. W. HUTSON, Capt., Court Provost Marshal, Pretoria District. 27th
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:15:24 GMT -5
he said, "I'm a Pagan, too!" Thus these two went out of this life believing there was no God. Little wonder either! During the afternoon two warders were busily engaged in the workshop, not a chain away from our cells, making two rough coffins; we could hear them quite distinctly all the afternoon, and knew what they were doing. In the evening they could be seen in the prison yard, where they had been placed just outside the workshop door. At four o'clock I was informed that I would leave for England at five the following morning. At six a hamper was sent in containing a nicely got-up dinner for four. We laid it out in my cell, but it was scarcely touched. After the awful events of the day we had no relish for a feast. It was the last meal that two of the company would partake of in this world. Morant remarked, "Not to be blasphemous, lads; but this is 'The Last Supper.'" At seven two warders came to lock up for the night. At the request of Morant, he and Handcock were allowed to pass their last night on earth together. At the last moment I bade Morant good-bye. He said, "It's hard lines and a sideways ending, thus being sacrificed as an atonement to pro-Boer sentiments. Good-bye, Witton; tell the 'Bulletin' people 'The Breaker' will write no more verse for them; I'm going into 'laager' in the morning." Morant spent most of the night writing, and then wrote his last verse In prison cell I sadly sit, A d--d crestfallen chappy, And own to you I feel a bit-- A little bit--unhappy. It really ain't the place nor time To reel off rhyming diction; But yet we'll write a final rhyme While waiting crucifixion. No matter what "end" they decide-- Quick-lime? or "b'iling ile?" sir-- We'll do our best when crucified To finish off in style, sir? But we bequeath a parting tip For sound advice of such men Who come across in transport ship To polish off the Dutchmen. If you encounter any Boers You really must not loot 'em, And, if you wish to leave these shores, For pity's sake, don't shoot 'em. And if you'd earn a D.S.O., Why every British sinner Should know the proper way to go Is: Ask the Boer to dinner. Let's toss a bumper down our throat Before we pass to heaven, And toast: "The trim-set petticoat We leave behind in Devon." At five the next morning, 27th February, I was roused by a warder, who informed me that an escort was waiting for me as soon as I was ready. I asked permission to say good-bye to Morant and Handcock. I was allowed to see them only through the small trap-door. I clasped their hands through this for the last time, and could scarcely stammer a good-bye. I was more unnerved at the thought of their hateful death than they were themselves. They were calmly prepared to meet their death, as they often had been before at times during the war. I was then taken away to the Chief Warder's office, handcuffed, and handed over to an escort of Cameron Highlanders, who took me to the railway station, thence to Capetown. At the prison gate I passed a squad of Cameron Highlanders waiting to be admitted. It was unnecessary to ask why or what they were there for. It was a heart-breaking sight. I was told that at six o'clock the warders threw open the door of the doomed men's cell, and asked, "Are you ready?" "Yes!" replied Morant, "where is your firing party ?" Hand in hand in the grey light of the dawn they walked out to their death. To Lieutenant Edwards Morant said, "Remember the Boers mutilated my friend Hunt. I shot those who did it. We had our orders; I only obeyed them when Hunt was murdered. I did it. Witton and Picton had nothing to do with it; I told them so at the court-martial." They faced the firing party unflinchingly. While waiting at the Pretoria Railway Station I distinctly heard in the clear morning air the report of the volley of the firing party, the death knell of my late comrades, and I knew they had gone to that bourne from whence no traveller returns. So went out two brave and fearless soldiers, men that the Empire could ill afford to lose. It was Morant's last wish that he should be buried decently, and outside the precincts of the prison. Some comrades claimed the bodies, and interred them in the Pretoria cemetery; there Morant and Handcock went into their last long "laager." I shudder now as I write this and recall those awful days, so vividly impressed on my memory. Those courts-martial were the greatest farces ever enacted outside of a theatre, and were held purely to conform to the rules of military law. The sentences were decided upon the evidence taken at the court of inquiry, at which no one was given an opportunity of making a defence, or even of denying the slanderous and lying statements made by prejudiced and unprincipled men. Morant and Handcock were sentenced to death long before the court sat to take evidence for the murder, or supposed complicity in the murder, of the said German missionary. It was not intended to seriously punish me, but a conviction in that case having been missed, it was necessary to include me to secure Handcock: For shooting Boers Captains Taylor and Robertson, Lieutenants Picton and myself, Sergeant-Major Hammett and the troopers were practically let off. When Australians were waiting expectant and astounded for the truth concerning the terrible news that was coming through in dribbles--with its stories of outrage, robbery, and murders--this report was sent by Lord Kitchener to the Governor-General of Australia in reply to an urgent request for information, and was published in the Australian press on the 7th April, 1902, and throughout the civilised world:-- "In reply to your telegram, Morant, Handcock, and Witton were charged with twenty separate murders, including one of a German missionary, who had witnessed other murders. Twelve of these murders were proved. From the evidence it appears that Morant was the originator of the crimes, which Handcock carried out in cold-blooded manner. The murders were committed in the wildest part of the Transvaal, known as Spelonken, about eighty miles to the north of Pretoria, on four separate dates, namely, 2nd July, 11th August, 23rd August, and 7th September. In one case, when eight Boer prisoners were murdered, it was alleged in defence to have been done in a spirit of revenge for the ill-treatment of one of their officers--Lieutenant Hunt--who was killed in action. No such ill-treatment was proved. The prisoners were convicted after most exhaustive trial, and were defended by counsel. There were, in my opinion, 'no extenuating circumstances.' Lieutenant Witton was also convicted, but I commuted the sentence to penal servitude for life, in consideration of his having been under the influence of Morant and Handcock. The proceedings have been sent home." To show the effect of the above report, I extract a few comments from leading journals:-- "Argus," 29th March, 1902:--"The London reports do not mention the alleged provocation of the Capetown corps, whose officer was murdered and mutilated." "Leader," 12th April, 1902:--"The War Office report, supported by the direct able message received by His Excellency the Governor from Lord Kitchener, Commander-in-Chief in South Africa, has removed any possibility of our laying this flattering unction to our souls. We are not even able to discover any plea of extenuation which would lessen the guilt of deliberate and despicable murder on the part of those who were principally concerned, and who have suffered the penalty of their crime. The explanation originally offered by those who professed to speak with some knowledge of the circumstances went to show that the shooting of the Boer prisoners was in the nature of retaliation for an outrage committed on a wounded British officer who was said to have been brutally done to death. This statement is still persisted in by Lieutenant Picton, one
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:14:45 GMT -5
Pretoria at 7 o'clock. We hastily got our kits together and had breakfast, when the Provost-Sergeant came to us carrying four pairs of handcuffs. After apologising for the unpleasant duty he was compelled to perform, he handcuffed us separately. When Morant held out his hands, he remarked, "This comes of empire building." His position then seemed to strike him very forcibly, for he broke down completely and wept. We were then escorted under a guard with fixed bayonets to the station, and confined in two closed armoured trucks, Major Lenehan (who was not handcuffed), Lieutenant Morant and myself in one, and Lieutenants Handcock and Picton in the other. An officer and six men in each truck acted as guard. While waiting on the platform to entrain, Major Bolton came up to us, as though to gloat over the successful consummation of his labours. Picton turned to him, and exposing the irons on his hands, called out, "I have to thank you for these, Major Bolton." Major Thomas had not been informed of our departure, and consequently did not travel with us. This was probably done to prevent any interference on his part; he followed on, however, shortly after. Quite a crowd had gathered on the station, many laughing and joking as though it were a picnic excursion, others bewildered and wondering what was to be our fate. It appeared to me to be an insult to the British uniform we wore that we should undergo the indignity of being placed in irons before we were sentenced or deprived of our badge of rank. I could not think that our position called for such precautions, and held there must be some mistake, perhaps the result of officiousness on the part of the Provost-Marshal. Leaving Pietersburg on the morning of 21st February, we arrived at Pretoria the following day, and were met by a strong escort of military police. Here we were placed in a van with armed men on either side of us, and with mounted police armed with revolvers and swords riding in the front and rear, and on both flanks. There were quite enough to form a bodyguard for the Commander-in-Chief himself. With the exception of Major Lenehan, who was sent on to Capetown, we were driven to the old Pretoria Gaol. This was the first time I had ever been inside a civil prison. My first impressions were anything but encouraging; the warders appeared most uncivil. The first one we met told us in a domineering manner to "face the wall," then commenced to order us about. Morant resented this treatment; turning to him he said, "Look here, warder, recollect although I am a prisoner I am still a British officer, and will be treated as such." On being taken to the reception room, we were stripped and our clothing carefully searched; we were then examined, and a complete description for identification purposes taken. Our own clothes were returned to us, and we were then taken to separate cells and locked up--in the quarters where Dr. Jameson and his followers had been confined after his disastrous and abortive raid on the Boer Republic a few years previous. When the cell door closed behind me the thought came into my mind that for some underhand motive my position from the beginning had been falsely represented to me. I had treated it too lightly; gloomy forebodings as to the future then struck into my heart. Even then I could not believe that capital punishment would be meted out to any of us. The following morning we were removed to another part of the prison, and occupied a row of cells on the west side of the yard, which I afterwards learned were known as the "condemned cells." During the day Captain Purland, Inspector of Prisons, visited us; he was an old acquaintance of Morant's, and at the request of this officer he relaxed much of the prison discipline. Instead of being kept locked in our cells all day, they were thrown open at 5.30 in the morning until 7 p.m. During the day we were allowed to associate with each other; tobacco, cigars, and cigarettes were sent to us, which we were permitted to smoke. We had been at Pretoria nearly a week before the findings of the court were made known. We arrived there on Saturday, 21st February, and it was not until Thursday, 26th February, that we were called into the Governor's office and informed of our fate. We were walking about the yard as usual at 8 o'clock, Morant asking me the same question that he had asked me before, "What are they going to do with us? Do you think they will shoot us?" I scouted the idea of it, and tried to reassure him by saying that if they shot us they would require to go on shooting officers every day. A warder then came to Morant and informed him that he was required at the Governor's office. He walked over, and in a few minutes returned. His face was deathly pale; he looked as though his heart had already ceased to beat. I exclaimed, "Good God, Morant, what is the matter?" "Shot to-morrow morning!" was the reply. Handcock was called next; when he returned he appeared quite unconcerned. "Well, what is it?" I asked. "Oh, same as Morant!" he wearily replied, as though he were tired of it all, and felt relieved that the end had came at last. I was next called, and walked across the yard quite prepared for, and fully expecting, the same fate as the others. On being ushered into the Governor's office, I was taken before Captain Hutson, Provost-Marshal of Pretoria. Glancing at me he said, "George Ramsdale Witton, you have been found guilty of murder and sentenced to death." He paused for a time, as if to give me the full grasp of that sentence. He then continued, "Lord Kitchener has been pleased to commute your sentence to penal servitude for life." I was then marched out, feeling quite resentful because my sentence had been commuted, as I felt that death a thousand times would be preferable to the degradation of a felon's life; I had already suffered a dozen times over pangs worse than death. Lieutenant Picton was the next called. He soon returned. "Well, what luck?" I asked. "Found guilty of manslaughter and cashiered!" was his reply. The appalling injustice of the sentences was a terrible blow to us. Morant by this time had pulled himself together, and was his old self again. He requested to be provided with writing material, and immediately petitioned to Lord Kitchener for a reprieve. Handcock at the same time also wrote, asking neither mercy nor anything else for himself, but begged that the Australian Government would be asked to do something for his three children. To Morant's petition there came a brief reply from Colonel Kelly, second in command at Pretoria, stating that Lord Kitchener was away on trek. He could hold out no hope of reprieve; the sentence was irrevocable, and he must prepare to bear it like a man. Handcock's letter was returned to him without an acknowledgment. At the same time I sent out two telegrams--one to Mr. Rail at Capetown, another to my brother in Australia. I was officially informed that they had been sent, via Durban, but I learned later that both had been suppressed. During the day Major Thomas visited us; the terrible news had almost driven him crazy. He rushed away to find Lord Kitchener, but was also informed by Colonel Kelly that the Commander-in-Chief was away, and not expected to return for several days. He then begged Colonel Kelly to have the execution stayed for a few days until he could appeal to the King; the reply was that the sentences had already been referred to England, and approved by the authorities there. There was not the slightest hope. Morant and Handcock must die. After sentence had been passed upon Morant, the Provost-Marshal asked him if he wished to see a clergyman. "No!" he replied, in his usual fierce and curt style; "I'm a Pagan!" Handcock, hearing of this, inquired, "What is a Pagan?" Upon being enlightened,
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:14:12 GMT -5
the offence of inciting to murder. For some unknown reason this case was heard privately in the garrison, and not publicly in the town, as the others had been. Another court was also constituted, with Lieutenant Colonel McVean, C.B., Gordon Highlanders, as president. The members were:----Major L. L. Nichol, Rifle Brigade; Major E. Brereton, Northampton Regiment; Captain E. Comerwell, York Regiment; Captain Stapylton, Royal Field Artillery; Captain Rhodes, Welsh Regiment; and Captain Kent, Northampton Regiment. Morant and Handcock pleaded "Not guilty," and the following evidence was adduced:-- Trooper Phillip deposed that on 23rd August preceding he was on Cossack Post duty, when a Cape cart, containing the missionary and a Cape boy, was going in the direction of Pietersburg. The missionary showed a pass signed by Capt. Taylor. He was greatly agitated, saying there had been a fight that morning and several had been killed, but he did not say whether they were British or Boers. Corporal Sharp said that he had seen Morant addressing Hesse, and had afterwards seen Handcock riding in the same direction as the missionary. It was about 10 or 11 a.m. when the missionary went past, and Handcock went about 12. The latter had a carbine. He did not take the same road as the missionary. Cross-examined, the witness admitted that he had gone a long way to fetch one Van Rooyen, who, he thought, was an eye-witness of the killing of the missionary. He did tell Trooper Hodd that he would walk barefooted from Spelonken to Pietersburg to be of the firing party to shoot Morant. He admitted that Handcock had issued an order against soldiers selling their uniforms, in consequence of the witness having done so. He had made it his business to collect notes of what was going on at Spelonken. Two witnesses said that Handcock had left the fort that day with a rifle. He was on a chestnut horse. It was not unusual for an officer to carry a rifle. A native deposed to having seen an armed man on horseback following the missionary. The man was on a brown horse. The witness afterwards heard shots, and then saw the dead body of a coloured boy. He took fright and fled. This was about 2 p.m. Trooper Thompson testified to having seen the missionary speaking to the Boers who were shot. Other witnesses gave evidence as to having seen Hesse speak to Taylor while Morant was present after the shooting of eight men. H. van Rooyen gave evidence as to having spoken to the Rev. Hesse on the road about 2 p.m. The witness trekked on with his waggon till sundown, when he saw a man on horseback coming from the direction of Pietersburg. The man turned off the road. Afterwards the man came on foot to the witness. He could not say if it was the same man that he had seen on horseback. The man on foot was Handcock, who advised the witness to push on, as Boers were about. Trooper Botha deposed that he was one of the patrol of which Handcock had charge, and which found the missionary's body. The case for the presecution then closed. The accused Morant deposed that on 23rd August eight Boers guilty of train-wrecking and other crimes were shot by his orders. Hesse spoke to these Boers, and was told not to do so. Afterwards the witness saw Hesse in a cart. He produced a pass signed by Taylor. The witness advised him not to go on to Pietersburg because of the Boers. Hesse said he would chance it, and by the witness' advice he tied a white flag to the cart. The prisoner returned to the fort and then went to Taylor's, and he afterwards saw Handcock at Bristow's. Handcock went on to Schiels'. The prisoner never made any suggestion about killing the missionary. He was on good terms with him. The accused Handcock made a statement as to his doings on that day. He said he left on foot for Schiels' in the morning, taking the road which branched off to the Pietersburg-road, and then across country. He lunched at Schiels', and then went to Bristow's till dusk, then back to the fort. Mrs. Schiels, who lived on a farm about three miles from Fort Edward, the wife of Colonel Schiels, an artillery officer, who had fought with the Boers, and had been captured and sent as a prisoner to St. Helena, gave evidence that Lieutenant Handcock had lunch at her house on the 23rd August, and left during the afternoon. Mrs. Bristow, who lived about a mile from Fort Edward, and was not on speaking terms with Mrs. Schiels, was the wife of an old settler in the district who had not taken any part in the war. This witness deposed that Lieutenant Handcock had been at their place on the afternoon of the 23rd August, and had returned to the fort in the evening. The court gave a verdict of "Not guilty" in the case of both prisoners. CHAPTER XX. EXECUTION OF MORANT AND HANDCOCK. After the conclusion of the trials, we waited three days to hear our fate; at times Morant appeared much worried, and gloomy forebodings would sometimes depress him. He would often say to me: "What do you think they will do with us? Do you think they will shoot us?" On one of these days I was spending the afternoon with Morant, Handcock, and Picton at the prison. We whiled away the time in the garden at the back, where grew several peach trees laden with green fruit. When anyone passed with whom we were intimately acquainted, he would be saluted with a shower of hard peaches. Presently there came along in an old ricketty buggy a deposed Kaffir chief, Magato, who was in the employ of the Intelligence Department as a spy, and who had just before tried to swindle Morant out of a kaross, or rug of skins; he was greeted with a volley of the hard fruit. Appearing to take no notice, he drove straight away, and lodged a complaint with the Garrison Adjutant. Half an hour later Major Lenehan received an official letter from the Adjutant to the effect that complaints had been made about the conduct of his officers at the garrison prison, and requesting that he should cause the same to be discontinued. The correspondence was passed on to Lieutenant Morant, and on the back of it he dashed off this reply:-- An Intelligence Nigger named Magato Has been singing a sad obligato, And begs to complain He suffered much pain By being struck with a squashy tomato. [P.S.--For "tomato" read "peach"--exigency of verse.] This was returned to the Adjutant; that night at dinner, in the officers' mess, it was handed round the table, to the great amusement of all. On the night of the 20th the last remnant of the Carbineers met at a dinner at Morant's quarters in the garrison prison. Majors Thomas and Lenehan, Captain Taylor, Lieutenants Morant, Handcock, Picton and myself were there. The evening passed very pleasantly; the wearisome trials were forgotten, and it seemed like old times again. As if to fill our cup of joy to the very brim, an orderly from the brigade office came and informed Morant that a staff-officer had said in his hearing that the result of the court-martial was that he and his subordinates were exonerated. This bit of news greatly elated us, and in high spirits at the thought of freedom on the morrow I returned to my quarters, near the cow-gun, about 10 o'clock, where I was met by the officer in charge, who informed me that he had orders for me to move to the garrison prison there and then. After protesting against moving at such an unseemly hour, I had my bedding packed up and returned to the scene of our festival at the prison. I made a shakedown in Handcock's room, and turned in, fully expecting that this would be the last night of my imprisonment. The morning brought with it a rude awakening. At six o'clock Captain Brown, 2nd Wiltshire Regiment, came to the prison, and informed us that we were to entrain for
|
|
|
Post by Bromhead24 on Nov 19, 2007 19:11:38 GMT -5
the offender was so completely under the influence of passion arising from the provocation that he was at that moment deprived of the power of self-control, and with this view it will be necessary to consider carefully--(1) The manner in which the crime was committed, whether deliberately and with premeditation, and also (2) the length of the interval between the provocation and the killing, so as to establish the fact that the alleged provocation was a justification of the crime. I must further draw the attention of the court to the fact that much irrelevant evidence has been allowed to be produced, which will require careful sifting before they can arrive at a just finding. The conclusion of this case was similar to the first, our military service being again taken. No intimation was given as to the nature of the verdict or the sentence. This concluded the charges against me, and I was not required to attend subsequent sittings of the court; my guard was now more relaxed than hitherto. Often I went about the garrison unattended, and in the company of an unarmed non-commissioned officer frequently visited friends in the town. On the afternoon following the conclusion of the "eight Boers" case I attended a cricket match, which took place on the town cricket-ground, mingling with, among others, the president and members of the court, who had only the previous day, though I was not then aware of it, passed upon me the extreme penalty of the law, "To suffer death by being shot." With the exception of a surprised kind of stare from the haughty president, my presence there was unheeded. Incidents such as these tended to convince me that the penalty hanging over me could not be a very serious one. We were often provided with horses, and permitted to take riding exercise in the morning before breakfast. The trial of Major Lenehan was now proceeded with. The charge against him was that, being on active service, he culpably neglected his duty by failing to report the shooting by men of his regiment, the Bushveldt Carbineers, of two men and a "boy." He pleaded "Not guilty." The main evidence in this case was given by Trooper Botha, a Dutchman, who had been Lieutenant Morant's favourite servant, though he was proved to have been at heart a traitor, for as soon as Morant got into trouble he immediately turned round and did him every harm in his power. There are men who could testify to hearing Botha ask Morant's permission to shoot Visser; he was allowed as a volunteer to form one of the firing party that did shoot him, yet at the court-martial he stated in evidence that he had objected to form one of the firing party, which was absolutely untrue. Some time after the conclusion of the trials Trooper Botha was "accidentally" shot. His death could not be attributed to the condemned officers, as two had taken their departure to another world, the rest for other lands. This Botha stated "that the three Boers were being brought in by Captain Taylor's Police, and were shot by five of the Carbineers; he reported what had been done to Morant in the presence of Major Lenehan." The five Carbineers of the patrol were Lieutenants Morant and Handcock, Sergeant-Major Hammett, Corporal McMahon, and Trooper Botha. Major Lenehan had arrived at Fort Edward on the very day that these three men were shot. I had met him going out as I was on my way to Pietersburg with prisoners. During dinner, at which were present Major Lenehan, Captain Taylor, Lieutenants Morant and Handcock, and Surgeon Leonard, an argument arose regarding the trustworthiness of Dutchmen on British service. Captain Taylor said they were not trustworthy, but Morant maintained the affirmative. In support of his arguments he sent for Botha, and in reply to questions put by Morant, he said he was a good soldier, and had done his duty and shot Boers. Major Lenehan was further charged with having failed to report that a trooper of the Carbineers, Van Buren, had been shot by Lieutenant Handcock. He pleaded "Not guilty." Ex-Captain Robertson was the principal witness for the prosecution in this case. He said he knew Van Buren, who had been shot; he had been warned that he was not to be trusted, and men refused to go on duty with him. He, Taylor, arid Handcock had a talk over it, and decided he was to be shot. He said that he made a report of this occurrence, and also of the shooting of six men, to Major Lenehan. The report made of Van Buren's death was not a true one; he had concealed the true facts in the interests of the corps. Major Lenehan, in his defence, said that he had never been informed of the actual manner of Van Buren's death. The counsel for the defence, Major Thomas, referred to the fact that Major Lenehan had already been, under arrest for three months (similar to that of the other officers), and protested against an officer being kept so long without trial. Robertson was the man who should have reported, and he had done so falsely. He and Taylor were the men who should have been prosecuted, but Robertson had been allowed to resign unconditionally. The verdict and the sentence were not made known. The next case was then gone on with. Lieutenants Morant and Handcock were charged with instigating the killing of two men and one boy, names unknown. Sergeant-Major Hammett deposed that he formed one of the patrol which the prisoners accompanied in search of three Boers. It was agreed that when the Boers were discovered, and Morant asked, "Do you know Captain Hunt" they were to be shot. This was done. In this case Lieutenant Morant again chose to go into the witness-box, and gave evidence on oath. He deposed that he went out to look for the three Dutchmen. He never asked them to surrender; they were Dutchmen with whom we were at war, and belonged to a party which had stripped and mutilated a brother officer, and he had them shot. Major Bolton was asked if he wished to cross-examine the witness, and upon replying in the affirmative Morant sprang up, and passionately exclaimed, "Look here, Major, you are just the 'Johnnie' I have been waiting to be cross-examined by; cross-examine me as much as you like, but let us have a straight gallop." In the cross-examination Morant's retorts were so straight and so bitter that they resulted in the collapse of the Prosecutor after a very few questions had been asked. The court then sat to hear the charges against Captain Alfred Taylor, who was accused of murder in inciting Sergeant-Major Morison, Sergeant Oldham, and others to kill and murder six men, names unknown. The following is a summary of the evidence taken:-- Sergeant-Major Morison, Bushveldt Carbineers, deposed that on 2nd July preceding he paraded his patrol and reported to Captain Robertson. The accused was present, and said he had intelligence that six Boers with two waggons were coming in to surrender, but that he would have no prisoners. The witness asked Captain Robertson if he should take orders from Taylor. Captain Robertson said, "Certainly, as he is commanding officer at Spelonken." Morison asked Taylor to repeat his order, which he did, saying that if the Boers showed the white flag the witness was not to see it. The witness repeated these orders to Sergeant Oldham, and warned six men and a corporal to accompany Oldham as an advance party. Six Boers were shot by the advance guard. These were the only ones met with that day. The patrol went on, and the following day a larger party of Boers with women and children was brought in, Taylor and Picton going to meet them. Sergeant Oldham stated that the previous witness warned him of six Boers, and told him he was to make them fight, and on no account bring them in alive. The Boers were ambushed. There was a man in front of a waggon holding a white flag, and a great noise in the waggon. Oldham stopped the fire, thinking there might be women and children, but since he found only six men, as described in the orders, they were taken out and shot. He believed the flag was put up after the firing commenced. The Boers were armed and their rifles loaded. A good many prisoners were afterwards taken and sent into Pietersburg. The witness addressed his report of the affair to Captain Taylor by Morison's orders. Captain Robertson complained, and the report was readdressed to him. Neither Taylor nor Robertson were present at the shooting of the Boers. Trooper Heath corroborated this. He said the Boers were disarmed, lined out on the road, and shot. Ex-Captain Robertson corroborated, and said that he had told Morison he must take his orders from the accused. Oldham reported, "All correct; they are all shot," and the witness saw the bodies. Cross-examined, the witness admitted having had to resign and having been refused admission to any other corps. Morison reported that he was threatened with arrest. Morison demanded an inquiry, but broke his arrest and went to Pietersburg. Taylor asked for the patrol, as six armed Boers with two waggons were reported. Morison did not receive instructions from Taylor in the witness's presence. It was usual for patrols to get orders from Taylor. Major Lenehan deposed to receiving orders to supply fifty officers and men to proceed to Spelonken with Taylor. An inquiry was held in regard to charges in which Robertson and Morison were mixed up. Colonel Hall decided that it was better that Morison should go. This closed the case for the prosecution. The accused elected to give evidence in his own defence. He said that during July last year he was in charge of natives and intelligence work. He was formerly a lieutenant in Plumer's Scouts, and came down on special service. No part of his instructions authorised him not to take prisoners. He had no military command. His instructions went to the officer commanding the detachment of Bushveldt Carbineers. Colonel Hall's instructions were that a detachment of sixty men were to assist him in the Zoutpansberg. He gave instructions to the officers, telling the number of men required for patrols if any Boers had to be fought or captured. He never in-interfered with non-commissioned officers but once, when Lieutenant Picton placed Morison under arrest, and the witness refused the latter permission to go to Pietersburg, although he nevertheless broke his arrest and went. The witness received intelligence of certain Boers coming in to surrender, but never of the party of six. He never gave Morison any orders, and knew nothing about the six Boers, nor had he asked for a patrol to meet them. That patrol took three days' rations with it. The patrol afterwards brought in parties of Boers of which the witness had been advised. The first intimation he had received of the charge of six Boers having been shot was made yesterday in court. Davidson, clerk to the accused, deposed to the fact that letters addressed to the latter giving intelligence of the Boers were missing from the office after someone else took the witness' place. The empty file was found at his successor's office. Otto Schwatz, an intelligence agent, spoke to having reported to Taylor the intention of two parties of Boers to surrender, but said he had never mentioned a party of six. Taylor was angry about the shooting of these Boers. Further evidence for the defence was taken to show animus on the part of Morison. Counsel addressed the court, who deliberated, and found the prisoner "Not guilty." CHAPTER XIX. THE GERMAN MISSIONARY CASE. The trial of the last, and what was considered the most important case, that of the murder of the alleged German missionary, was opened on the 17th February. Lieutenant Handcock was charged with having killed Mr. Hess; Lieutenant Morant was charged with
|
|