Before I had been in the Old Bailey dock two minutes on the morning of
my second trial, I found that our case was hopeless. The names of no
less than four jurymen were handed to me by friends in court, every one
of whom had been heard to declare that he meant to bring in a verdict of
Guilty. One of these impartial guardians of English liberty had stated,
in a public-house, his intention to "make it hot for the Freethinkers."
How many more had uttered similar sentiments it is impossible to say,
but it is reasonable to suppose that, if four were discovered by my
friends, there were others who had escaped their detection. One of
the four, a Mr. Thomas Jackson, was called on the jury list. I at once
challenged him. He was then put into the witness-box, and on examination
he admitted that he "had expressed an opinion adverse to the defendants
in this case."
Then ensued a bit of comedy between Judge North and Sir Hardinge
Giffard, who both assumed a wonderful air of impartiality.
"Judge North: Sir Hardinge, is it not better to withdraw this
juryman at once? Whatever the verdict of the jury, I should be
sorry to have a man among them who had expressed himself as
prejudiced.
Sir Hardinge Giffard: Oh yes, my lord; I withdraw him. It will
be much more satisfactory to the Crown and everybody else concerned."
"I withdraw him," says Sir Hardinge; "I should be sorry to have him,"
says the Judge; both evidently feeling that they were making a generous
concession in the interests of justice. But as a matter of fact they had
no choice. Mr. Thomas Jackson could no more sit on that jury after my
challenge than he could fly over the moon. I smiled at the pretended
generosity of these legal cronies, and said to myself, "Thank you for
nothing."
Mr. Thomas Jackson's exit made no practical difference. I felt, I will
not say that the jury was packed, but that it was admirably adapted to
the end in view. Ours being the only case for trial that day, it was not
difficult to accomplish this result. A friend of mine said to one of the
officers of the court before I entered the dock, "Well, how is the case
going to-day?" "Oh," was the prompt reply, "they are sure to convict."
He knew the character of the jury.
Some of the "twelve men and true" had not even the decency to attend
to the proceedings. One was timed by a friend in court--dead asleep for
sixty minutes. When that juryman awoke his mind was made up on the case.
At the conclusion of a trial that lasted over six hours they did not
even retire for consultation. They stood up, faced each other, muttered
together for about a minute, nodded their heads affirmatively, and then
sat down and gave a verdict of guilty.
Several of the jury, however, I am bound to admit, had no idea that
Judge North would inflict upon us such infamous sentences, and they
were quite shocked at the consequences of their verdict. Four of them
subsequently signed the memorial for our release. A fifth juryman
vehemently declined to do so. "No," he said, "not I. I'm a man of
principle! They got off too easy. Two years' hard labor wouldn't have
been a bit too much." This pious gentleman is a publican in Soho, and
bears the name of a famous murderer, Wainwright.
But to return. Mr. Ramsey and I were represented this time on all legal
points by counsel. Mr. Cluer watched our interests vigilantly, and
performed a difficult task with great courage and judgment. He bore
Judge North's insults with wonderful patience. "Don't mind what you
think about, it, Mr. Cluer," "I don't want you to tell me what you
think;" such were the flowers of courtesy strewed from the bench upon
Mr. Cluer's path. Our counsel's colleague in the case was Mr. Horace
Avory, who represented Mr. Kemp. He also had a somewhat onerous duty to
perform.
There is no need to deal with the technical evidence against us. It was
of the usual character, and we merely cross-examined the witnesses as
a matter of form. One thing was brought out clearly. Sir Henry Tyler's
solicitors were aiding Sir Thomas Nelson, and their clerks were produced
as witnesses against us.
Judge North's reception of evidence was peculiar. Knowing that there was
no Court of Criminal Appeal, he set the rules of procedure at defiance.
Any tittle-tattle was admitted, and postmen and servants were allowed to
swear as to the directions on unproduced documents alleged to have been
addressed to me. When, several weeks later, I was tried a third time
in the Court of Queen's Bench, I heard Lord Coleridge rebuke the
prosecuting counsel for attempting to put questions against which Judge
North would hear no objection. I understand now how much prisoners
are at the mercy of judges, and I feel how much truth there was in the
remark I once heard from a prisoner in Holloway Gaol, that "it's often a
toss up whether you get one year or seven."
Let me here also ask why Mr. Fawcett, the late Postmaster General,
allowed his letter-carriers to be employed as detectives in such a
case. It was proved in evidence that a policeman had called at the
West-Central Post Office, and obtained an interview with the manager,
after which the letter-carriers were instructed to spy upon my
correspondence. Mr. Fawcett subsequently denied that the letter-carriers
had ever been so instructed; but in that case the Post Office witnesses
must have committed perjury. I do not believe it. I am confident that
they merely obeyed orders, and that the scandalous abuse of a public
trust must be charged upon the district postmaster, who probably thinks
any weapon is legitimate against Freethinkers. As Mr. Fawcett refused to
censure the postmaster for exceeding his duty, or the letter-carrier
for committing perjury, I cannot hold him altogether guiltless in the
matter.
In opening my defence I took care to accentuate my appreciation of Judge
North's kindness, as the following passage will show:
"Gentlemen of the Jury,--I stand in a position of great difficulty
and disadvantage. On Thursday last I defended myself against
the very same charges in the very same indictment. The case
lasted nearly seven hours, and the jury retired for more than
two hours without being able to come to an agreement. They
were then discharged, and the learned judge said he would try
the case again on Monday with a new jury. As I had been out
on bail from my committal, and as I stood in the same position
after that abortive trial as before it commenced, I asked the
learned judge to renew my bail, but he refused. I pleaded that
I should have no opportunity to prepare my defence, and I was
peremptorily told I should have the same opportunity as I had
had that day. Well, gentlemen, I have enjoyed the learned judge's
opportunity. I have spent all the weary hours since Thursday,
with the exception of the three allowed for bodily exercise
during the whole interval, in a small prison cell six feet wide,
and so dark that I could neither write nor read at midday without
the aid of gaslight. There was around me no sign of the animated
life I am accustomed to, nothing but the loathsome sights and
sounds of prison life. And in these trying and depressing
circumstances I have had to prepare to defend myself in a new
trial against two junior counsel and a senior counsel, who have
had no difficulties to contend with, who have behind them the
wealth and authority of the greatest and richest Corporation
in the world, and who might even walk out of court in the
perfect assurance that the prosecution would not be allowed
to suffer in their absence."
Those who wish to read the whole of my defence, which lasted over two
hours, will find it in the "Three Trials for Blasphemy." One portion of
it, at least, is likely to be of permanent interest. With Mr. Wheeler's
aid I drew up a long list of the abusive epithets applied by Christian
controversialists to their Pagan opponents or to each other. It fills
more than two pages of small type, and pretty nearly exhausts the
vocabulary of vituperation. I added a few pearls of orthodox abuse
of Atheism, and then asked the jury whether Christians had taught
Freethinkers to show respect for their opponents' feelings. "Nobody in
this country," I continued, "whatever his religion, is called upon to
respect the feelings of anybody else. It is only the Freethinker who
is told to respect the feelings of people from whom he differs. And to
respect them how? Not when he enters their places of worship, not when
he stands side by side with them in the business and pleasures of life,
but when he reads what is written for Freethinkers without knowing that
a pair of Christian eyes will ever scan the page."
It may be asked why I adopted a course so little likely to conciliate
my judges. My reply is that I did not try to conciliate them. Feeling
convinced that their verdict was already settled, and that my fate was
sealed, I cast all such considerations aside, and deliberately made a
speech for my own party. I was resolved that my loss should be the gain
of Freethought. The peroration is the only other part of my defence I
shall venture to quote. It ran as follows:
"Gentlemen, carry your minds back across the chasm of eighteen
centuries and a half. You are in Jerusalem. A young Jew is
haled along the street to the place of judgment. He stands
before his judge; he is accused--of what, gentlemen? You
know what he is accused of--the word must be springing to
your lips--Blasphemy! Every Christian among you knows that
your founder, Jesus Christ, was crucified after being charged
with blasphemy. Gentlemen, it seems to me that no Christian
should ever find a man guilty of blasphemy after that, but
that the very word ought to be wiped from your vocabulary,
as a reproach and a scandal. Christians, your founder was
murdered as a blasphemer, for, although done judicially, it
was still a murder. Surely then you will not, when you have
secured the possession of power, imitate the bad example of
those who killed your founder, violate men's liberties, rob
them of all that is perhaps dearest to them, and brand them
with a stigma of public infamy by a verdict from the jury-box!
Surely gentlemen, it is impossible that you can do that! Who
are we? Three poor men. Are we wicked? No, there is no proof
of the charge. Our honor and honesty are unimpeached. It is
not for us to play the Pharisee and say that we are better than
other men. We only say that we are no worse. What have we
done to be classed with thieves and felons, dragged from our
homes and submitted to the indignities of a life so loathsome
and hideous, that it is even revolting to the spirits of the men
who have to exercise authority within the precincts of the gaol?
You know we have done nothing to merit such a punishment.
Gentlemen, you ought to return a verdict of Not Guilty against
us, because the prosecution have not given you sufficient
evidence as to the fact; because whatever legal bigotry is
gained from the decisions of judges in the past must be treated
as obsolete, as the London magistrate treated the law of
Maintenance; because we have done nothing, as the indictment
states, against the peace; because our proceedings have led
to no tumult in the streets, no interference with the liberty
of any man, his person or property; because no evidence has
been tendered to you of any malice in our case; because there
is no wicked motive in anything we have done; because the
founder of your own creed was murdered on a very similar charge
to that of which we stand accused now; and, lastly, because
you should in this third quarter of the nineteenth century
assert once and for ever the great principle of the absolute
freedom of each man, unless he trench on the equal freedom of
others. I ask you to assert the great principle of the liberty
of the press, liberty of the platform, liberty of thought and
liberty of speech; I ask you to prevent such prosecutions as
are hinted at in the _Times_ this morning; I ask you not to
allow sects once more to be hurling anathemas against each other,
and flying to the magistrates to settle questions which should
be settled by intellectual and moral suasion; I ask you not
to open a discreditable chapter of English history that ought
to have been closed for ever; I ask you to give us a verdict
of Not Guilty, to send us back to our homes and to stamp your
brand of disapprobation on this prosecution, which is degrading
religion by associating it with all that is penal, obstructive,
and loathsome; I ask you to let us go away from here free men,
and so make it impossible that there ever should again be a
prosecution for blasphemy; I ask you to have your names inscribed
in history as the last jury that decided for ever that great
and grand principle of liberty which is broader than all the
skies; a principle so high that no temple could be lofty enough
for its worship; that grand principle which should rule over
all--the principle of the equal right and the equal liberty
of all men. That is the principle I ask you to assert by your
verdict of Not Guilty. Gentlemen, I ask you to close this
discreditable chapter of persecution once and for ever, and
associate your names on the page of history with liberty,
progress, and everything that is dignified, noble and dear
to the consciences and hearts of men."
When I sat down there was a burst of applause, which the court officials
were unable to suppress. Mr. Ramsey followed with another written
speech, well composed and very much to the point. I noticed some of
his auditors outside the jury-box choking down their emotion as he
touchingly referred to his sleepless nights in Newgate through thinking
of wife and child. His Lordship, I observed only smiled bitterly.
Judge North's summing up was a fraudulent performance. He told the jury
that the consent of the Attorney-General had to be obtained for our
prosecution, as well as that of the Public Prosecutor, which was a
downright falsehood, unless it was a piece of sheer ignorance. He
pretended to read the whole chapter on Offences against Religion in
Sir James Stephen's "Digest of the Criminal Law," while in reality he
deliberately omitted the very paragraph which damned his contention and
supported mine. He also produced a new statement of the Law of Blasphemy
to suit the occasion. On the previous Thursday he told the jury that any
denial of the existence of Deity or of Providence was blasphemy. But in
the meantime the public press had condemned this interpretation of
the law as dangerous to high-class heretics. His lordship, therefore,
expounded the law afresh, so as to exempt them while including us.
The only question he now submitted to the jury was, "Are any of those
passages put before you calculated to expose to ridicule, contempt or
derision the Holy Scriptures or the Christian religion?" This amended
statement of the Law of Blasphemy went directly in the teeth of our
Indictment, which charged us with bringing Holy Scripture and the
Christian Religion into _disbelief_ as well as contempt. The fact is,
blasphemy is a judge-made crime, and the "blasphemer's" fate depends
very largely on who tries him. Lord Coleridge holds one view of the law,
Sir James Stephen another, and Justice North another still. Nay,
the last judge differs even from himself. He can give two various
definitions of the law in five days, no doubt on the principle that
circumstances alter cases, and that what is true for one purpose may be
false for another.
I have said that the jury, with indecent haste, returned a verdict of
Guilty. The crowd of people in court were evidently surprised at the
result, although I was not, and they gave vent to groans and hisses.
The tumult was indescribable. Suddenly there rang out from the gallery
overhead the agonising cry of my young wife, whom I had implored not to
come, and whose presence there I never suspected. She had crept in and
listened all day to my trial, never leaving her seat for fear of losing
it; and now, overwearied and faint for want of food, she reeled under
the heavy blow. My heart leaped at the sound; my brain reeled; the scene
around me swam in confusion--judge, jury, lawyers and spectators
all shifting like the pieces in a kaleidoscope; my very frame seemed
expanding and dissolving in space. The feeling lasted only a moment. Yet
to me how long! With a tremendous effort I crushed down my emotions, and
the next moment I was mentally as calm as an Alp, although physically
I quivered like a race-horse sharply reined up in mid-gallop by an iron
hand. My wife I could not help, but I could still maintain the honor and
dignity of Freethought.
Order was at length restored after his lordship had threatened to clear
the court. Mr. Avory then asked him to deal leniently with Mr. Kemp,
who was merely a paid servant of ours, and in no other way actually
responsible for the incriminated publication. Justice North listened
with ill-concealed impatience. He was obviously anxious to flesh the
sword of justice in his helpless victims. Directly Mr. Avory finished
he began to pronounce the following sentence on me, and while he spoke
there was deadly silence in that crowded court:--
"George William Foote, you have been found Guilty by the jury
of publishing these blasphemous libels. This trial has been
to me a very painful one. I regret extremely to find a person
of your undoubted intelligence, a man gifted by God with such
great ability, should have chosen to prostitute his talents to
the service of the Devil. I consider this paper totally different
from any of the works you have brought before me in every way,
and the sentence I now pass upon you is one of imprisonment for
twelve calendar months."
Twelve months! It was longer than I expected, but what matter? My
indifference, however, was not shared by the crowd. They rose, and as
the reporter said, "burst forth into a storm of hissing, groaning, and
derisive cries." "Damn Christianity!" I heard one shout, and "Scroggs"
and "Jeffries" were flung at the judge, who seemed at first to enjoy
the scene, although he grew alarmed as the tumult increased. "Clear the
gallery," he cried, and the police burst in among the people. But before
they did their work something happened. From the first I resolved, if
I were found guilty and sentenced to imprisonment, that I would say
something before leaving the dock. My first impulse was to hurl at the
judge a few words of passionate indignation. But I reflected "No! I
have been tried and condemned for ridiculing superstition. Sarcasm is
Blasphemy. Well then, let me sustain my character to the end. I will
leave with a stinging _Freethinker_ sentence on my lips." Raising my
hand, I obtained a moment's silence. Then I folded my arms and surveyed
the judge. Our eyes flashed mutual enmity for a few seconds, until
with a scornful smile and a mock bow I said, "_Thank you, my lord; the
sentence is worthy of your creed._"
That retort has frequently been cited. It was a happy inspiration, and
the more I ponder it the more profoundly I feel that it was exactly the
right thing to say.
The officers behind gave me a pressing invitation to descend the dock
stairs, and I complied. For a long time I waited in one of the little
dens I have already described, pacing up and down, revolving many
thoughts, and wondering what detained my companions. The fact is, the
police had a great deal of trouble in executing the judge's orders,
and some time elapsed before he could strike Mr. Ramsey and Mr. Kemp.
Meanwhile I could hear through the earth and the brick walls the roar of
that indignant crowd which filled the street and suspended traffic,
and I knew it was the first sound of public opinion reversing my unjust
sentence.
Consider it for a moment. There is no allusion to outraged feelings,
much less any suggestion of "indecency." It is a plain declaration of
theological hatred; it breathes the spirit which animated the Grand
Inquisitors when they sentenced heretics to be burnt to ashes at the
stake. "Listen," says the judge. "I am on God's side. You are on the
Devil's. God doesn't see you, but I do; God doesn't punish you, but
I will. We have hells on earth for you Freethinkers, in the shape of
Christian gaols, and to hell you go!"
Presently Mr. Ramsey came down with nine months on his back, and then
Mr. Kemp with three. They had my sentence between them. Mr. Cattell
afterwards joined us without any sentence. He was ordered to enter into
his own recognisances in L200, and to find one surety in L100, to come
up for judgment when called upon.
People have wondered on what principle Judge North determined our
sentences. One theory is that he punished us according to the amount of
his time we occupied. I made a long speech and got twelve months; Mr.
Ramsey made a short speech and got nine; Mr. Kemp made no speech and
got only three; while Mr. Cattell cried _Peccavi_ and got off with a
caution.
"Ready," cried the old janitor, in response to a distant voice. Our den
was unlocked and we were marched back to Newgate for the last time.