“After being again placed in the cells, the chief warder of the prison
came to me at 5:30 p. m. and told me I was to go and stop with Capt.
Fryatt, as that was his last night. I then met Capt. Fryatt, who was
very much distressed, not so much because of the verdict, but of the
unfair and cowardly manner in which everything was done. He told me
himself that he was to be shot on the next morning, and after having
a talk for about an hour—it was then 6:30 p. m.—the prison official
took his watch from his pocket and said that in a short time the
escort would be there, and Capt. Fryatt would be shot at 7 p. m. The
last twenty-five minutes I spent with him were appalling. At 6:55
p. m. I wished him good-bye, and promised I would deliver his last
messages, which were many, and returned to my cell.
“Punctually at 7 p. m., a very short distance from the prison walls,
a band commenced to play, and poor Fryatt was no more. Late the same
evening an official came to my cell and described to me, in the best
way he could, how Fryatt died. He was shot by sixteen rifles, the
bullets of which penetrated through his heart, carrying with them the
clothes he was wearing through the body and out at the back.
“Sir, I was and am still proud of Capt. Fryatt’s manly conduct right
up to the last, and I may add that there was not a German present at
the trial who could face him.”
[Illustration:
© _Underwood and Underwood._