CHAPTER 29
Before Maitland closed the case he once again asked the prisoner if he had anything to say in his defence. But the prisoner only shook his head as usual. Many people were expecting a fiery speech justifying the conspiracy. They were used to tub-thumping and rhetorical flourishes when it came to political speeches and most of them were disappointed when the prisoner refused to break the silence that he had maintained throughout the trail. This brought the hearing to an end and the case was closed for judgement.
Maitland stopped going to the club and remained closeted within his bungalow. It was known that he was writing the judgment; which was expected to be delivered by the weekend. It was true that Maitland was hard at work. He had called in his steno typist and this gentleman was kept busy taking down the judgment, which was dictated by Maitland. The District Judge had made arrangements for the steno to be lodged in one of the outhouses within the compound of the bungalow. He was not allowed to go home before the judgement was finally delivered lest the secrecy of the matter be compromised. On one such evening, when Maitland had just finished dictating the last portion of the judgement his servant brought him an open envelope within which was a note. This note was actually a sheet of white paper on which it was written-HANG THE BASTARD.
“Ramdin!” Maitland bellowed at his servant.
“Huzoor.”
“Who delivered this letter?”
“No one sir. I just found it in the letter-box and brought it to you honour. Is it very important.”
“Shut up. Did you see anyone putting this letter in the box?”
“No sir. Upon my honour, I saw not a soul.”
“Are you sure.”
“Will a brahmin ever tell a lie before your honour.”
“All right, all right. Now keep your eyes and ears open and if you see anyone hanging about the bungalow do tell me immediately. Is that clear?”
“Huzoor.”
The note had disturbed Maitland more than he cared to show. Thank God, I have finished the judgement, he thought. It wouldn’t do to dictate an order with your mind in a whirl. He was clear in his mind that this note could only have come from a member of the British community. Most likely someone like Macgregor who could not see beyond his nose and had no notion of the law. Why couldn’t these empire-builder types understand that times had changed. Justice had not only to be done, it had to be seen to be done and by God, he was going to do it, no matter what came in the way. With these thoughts he dictated the concluding paragraphs of the judgement and went to bed.
Next morning, Maitland reached the court a little earlier than usual to make sure that all the loose ends were tied up before the judgement was delivered. He was on the dais exactly on the stroke of ten, as was his custom. He was followed by the court clerk who placed a small pile of case files on the bench before the judge, sending a ripple of anticipation round the jam-packed courtroom. Enjoying the drama of the situation, Maitland first took up some minor cases and pronounced judgement. Then came the moment that everyone was waiting for. The court orderly, whose job it was to summon the concerned parties before the bench as their cases came up for hearing, shouted out the name of Maan Singh and the handcuffed prisoner was led to the dock along with his accomplice. Judgment was about to be pronounced in case of Maan Singh and others versus the Government of India.
It was a long judgment but the judge skipped the preliminaries and came to the operative portion straightaway. “The prosecution has thus established beyond doubt,” read the judge, “that the defendant and his accomplices were guilty of criminal conspiracy and sedition under the Indian Penal Code. Sedition is a grave offence that carries the death penalty. But while passing sentence due regard must be had for the defendant’s conduct when the crime in question was committed. Now there is no doubt that his conduct has been puzzling. The prosecution claims that the defendant has a long police record and has been involved in several dacoities and other serious offences but his conduct during the course of this – er conspiracy – does not seem to bear this out. Here was a person who had painstakingly hatched a conspiracy that was far-fetched and unlikely to succeed. If it failed that was every likelihood that his life would be forfeit. Yet having come with an ace of succeeding, he let everything go to waste by refusing to fire at the critical moment.
According to the prosecution this was due to a last minute attack of nerves. According to the defence this was due to moral scruples about killing in cold blood. Whatever the reason these were not the actions of a hardened criminal. But if the defendant is not a hardened criminal he is no babe in the woods either. The fact that he was able to organize a daring operation of this kind while keeping the police and intelligence agencies in the dark shows that he possessed cool nerves and practical capacity to an unusual degree. This being the case it his hard to believe the prosecution story about a last minute attack of nerves. The more plausible explanation is the one provided by the defence counsel and this conclusion is strengthened by the testimony of Mr. Cartwright who was responsible for disarming the defendant. One cannot but admire the complete disregard for personal safety shown by Mr. Cartwright in this whole episode and as it was he who had the best opportunity for observing the defendant at close quarters during the entire proceeding, we must give due weight to his evidence.”
The judge went on to discuss Cartwright’s evidence in detail and then gave his own conclusion. “Therefore we cannot but infer that the defendant’s failure to fire was prompted by his unwillingness to kill in cold blood. Whatever be the reason for this sudden change of heart, this was the action, not of a criminal, but of a high-minded man. Having due regard for the circumstances of the case, therefore, we sentence the defendant to seven year’s rigorous imprisonment with hard labour. He shall be entitled to a remission of sentence on good behaviour.”
There was silence in the courtroom as this sentence was read out. Then a part of the crowd started clapping and applauding. It was as if the defendant had been acquitted rather than sentenced. There were also muffled cries of ‘shame, shame,’ from a section of the audience where the small number of British officials were sitting, but these were drowned out by the applause.
That evening Maitland decided to visit the club. Now that the judgement had been delivered there was no need for him to continue his self-imposed isolation. He was missing his game of bridge in the evening and the brief chat that accompanied it. But when he reached the club he found the atmosphere distinctly frosty. No one spoke to him at all for a while. “What’s the matter. The whole lot of your look like mourners at a funeral on a rainy morning.”
“You have let us down George.” Said Macgregor the SP. All the ladies stood behind him in silent agreement. Maitland could feel the disapproval that radiated from them.
“I have done my duty according to my lights. And I am not accountable to any of you, you know.”
“This will have a bad effect throughout the country, you know. You should have made an example of the young man. Now any hot-head will imagine he can hold the government to ransom, and get away with it.”
“Nonsense. Besides, it is not my job to worry about the consequences of my judgements. My job is to do justice – as I see it. Not as you seem to see it, gentlemen.”
But the SP and the rest of the English in the club were not to be placated so easily. “Have you seen the Phansi khud at Pagara, George.”
“No I haven’t and have no wish to, either.”
“It’s just off the Pachmarhi road a few miles from the station. That is where they hanged raja Bhabhoot Singh, the Korku chief who owned the land thereabouts before we came in. do you know why he was hanged. Because he did not want to part with his land. When we took it away from him by force, he started conspiring against us and we hanged him. He was a raja, remember. A local chieftain of some moment, whose only crime was that he loved his land more than his personal safety. Yet we hanged him. And here you have a man whose conspires against the whole government. Whose guilt is not in any doubt. Who is so proud of his crime that he says not a word in his own defence; yet you let him get ways with it. “Macgregor shook his head, more in sorrow than in anger,. “I can’t stomach it. I just can’t stomach it. If we can’t defend our own government against seditious bastards like Maan Singh, how on earth are we going to rule this land.”
“What people like you Macgregor, don’t seem to realise is that times have changed and we can’t get away with that kind of high-handedness anymore. Dyer thought he could and look what has happened. The whole fabric of British rule is under attack because of the high – handedness of one man. We can’t act like that anymore. And let us not forget that in the ultimate analysis the only justification for our rule is that we can run the government better than the Indians. If we can’t do that, if we can’t be wiser, fairer and more just than their own rulers than there is no longer any need for us to remain in India.”
But the SP was not about to admit defeat. “And yet you won’t sit down and play bright with an Indian.”
“That’s not the same thing. A club is by definition an exclusive body. And a man has a perfect right to decide with whom he shall fraternise outside the confines of his office. But I am beginning to see the falsity of my position. I don’t think we can be totally fair to the Indians in our official dealings and yet continue to regard them as socially and morally our inferiors. However I still can’t bring myself to socialise with Indians, much as I deplore this position in theory. Therefore, I’ll resign from the club so that I don’t have to stand in the way of Mr Dube’s club membership; should the issue come up again.”
“In other words while you claim to be a liberal in theory, you remain a racist in practice.” This was said in a high pitched voice by a lady whose identity could not be established. It was probably the SP’s wife.”
“In other words a humbug,” said another voice. But these remarks were not head by the judge as he had already left the club premises.
