About this book

Only seven were hanged

Stuart Martin

quite recent occurrence. It deals with one of the most brutal, one of the most indefensible, murders that have ever come under my observation. Furthermore, it was characterized by an entire absence on the part of the public at large of that misguided, but often quite honest, sympathy for murderers which leads people to sign futile petitions for a reprieve or a stay of execution. Of the petitions on behalf of convicted murderers in America I cannot speak, nor can I say how many persons are sentenced to death in the United States on an average during a year; but an official return lately furnished by the Home Office of the British Government states that the average annual number of persons sentenced to death in England and Wales is about twenty-five. Of that number about fourteen are actually hanged. The reasons for reprieving the others are various. It may be that the petitions so diligently, but so thoughtlessly, issued for public signature have some slight influence. It may be that the generosity of the Home Secretary, or the pusillanimity of some other official, is at work in favor of those who escape the scaffold. It is not my prerogative in the present circumstances to inquire into, or to explain, this. I merely mention these figures in order to emphasize that not a single petition was issued, not a solitary protest was made, not a word was uttered, so far as I am aware, to stay the hand of the law's sentence on Ammar Baddan. There was no question about his guilt. It is true his counsel formally entered a plea of "not guilty," but from the very beginning of the case to the very end that plea never had a leg to stand on. It was, indeed, negatived by the prisoner himself, and his words when he was asked (as is always done) if he had anything to say before sentence was passed on him, indicated the casual attitude he adopted to the end. These are his words, written in this minute-book: "I do not care for your sentence. I do not care for your law. It was my wife who got the lawyer. I despise him and his tricks. It is true I killed John Hamlin. Why do I say this? You are fools who do not understand. But I know what the Book of Wisdom says and by that Book I have ruled my life. I say I killed Hamlin. By saying so I am doing what I was taught, and that is to always tell the truth, even to you people when we witness before God, although it be against ourselves or our parents or our relatives, whether the party be rich or poor; for God is more worthy than both." The jury listened to this statement. In two minutes they brought in a verdict of guilty and I pronounced sentence. I called his crime, and still call it, THE UNREASONABLE MURDER Ammar Baddan was a Tamil, a native of southern India, one of the Dravidian races who are admitted to possess many good qualities such as frugality, patience, endurance, politeness. They have astounding memories. They are pronouncedly commercial. All these facts came out at the trial of Ammar Baddan. But Ammar Baddan had left London one evening by train, had journeyed down to a Surrey country town, and had deliberately cut the throat of John Hamlin, the proprietor of an inn. And the most amazing element of that brutal murder was that Ammar Baddan had never in all his life seen Hamlin before that evening, had never had any dealings with him, and until a few days previously was not aware of his existence. On the other hand, it was proved that John Hamlin, the innocent victim of this savage attack, knew nothing of Ammar Baddan. It was a case of the unexplained frenzy of an Eastern nature--the sudden madness for killing, the lust for blood, that stirs up in some natures without reason and without provocation. It was the savagery of the tiger that must be suppressed wherever it is observed and dealt with wherever it comes to the surface. The unfortunate victim of this outrage had done Ammar Baddan no harm whatever. Can society continue if it allows people of the jungle to perpetrate a crime of inexcusable violence for which there is no reason and which is callously admitted? We would be lacking in our duty to our fellows were we not to administer the final judgment in cases where the whole fabric of the social order is menaced. The counsel for the prosecution of Ammar Baddan confessed that he had some difficulty in finding a motive for the crime. Let us take his statement first. Baddan was a native of India. He was born in the south of that vast country, but his father, who was a humble merchant, traveled up to Calcutta and there established a business that grew with the years. He prospered so well that he was known as one of the greatest buyers of antiques and bric-à-brac in that part of India. His son, at the age of sixteen, as is the custom of the race, took upon himself the status of a man and became his father's partner. The father died only a few months before his son was arrested for the appalling crime of murder. Perhaps it would be as well to state here what the prosecuting counsel thought fit to mention, namely, that while the Tamils as a race are the possessors of the good qualities that have been indicated, they are also, it seems, as a race, handicapped by the drawbacks of lying and lasciviousness. One merely repeats what counsel stated. As a youth Ammar Baddan had an excellent training. He knew the _Kural_ by heart and was known to propound its teaching on the subjects of virtue, wealth and enjoyment. By religion he was a Brahman and knew the whole of the text-books called Brahmanas. Shortly after he was sixteen years of age he was conducted to a spiritual teacher and received the sacred cord which is worn over the left shoulder and under the right arm, one of the signs of initiation into the study of the Vedas, the management of the sacred fire, and the knowledge of the rites of purification. By caste he was a _Kshatriya_. As a young man he knew Calcutta well and traveled considerably. He learned the English tongue and spoke as well as an Englishman. Thus, it will be seen that he was not ignorant of what is right and what is wrong. His grounding in moral training was as comprehensive as it was severe. Did not this make his crime all the more heinous? It is well known that the Tamils are the most enterprising of all the peoples of south India. They are born merchants. Wherever there is an opportunity for commerce they are to be found. As Ammar Baddan grew older he was respected and his commercial ability was even greater than that of his father. The prayers which had been said before and at his birth were being answered. He was a force in the city of Bengal. His education and politeness brought him many friends, among them many white men who were in business in Calcutta. One man especially was his friend, an Englishman named Taylor. Business had brought them together and, as is often the case, it was often the cause of social meetings. On one occasion they both attended a party which some Englishmen were giving to a theatrical company that had arrived in Calcutta and it was at that party that Ammar Baddan met the girl who soon afterward became his wife. He had seen this girl in the chorus of the show at the theater and had been attracted by her, and when his friend Taylor, who was friendly with the company, gave him the opportunity of meeting them off the stage, Ammar Baddan's delight was boundless. His ardent nature had already focused on this girl. The supper party took place in a hotel after the theater performance was over. Doubtless most people are aware that there are men who make a point of inviting actresses--and especially chorus girls--to supper parties because of the lack of restraint that is, rightly or wrongly, said to be connected with the theatrical temperament. It was Taylor who introduced the girl to Ammar Baddan. She was very pretty, with golden hair and all the attractions of a blonde. One can imagine that the wine flowed freely. There was an incident during the evening when one of the white men made some sort of proposal that every man should kiss every girl present. To Ammar Baddan's great relief the blonde girl refused to comply with the vulgar and insulting proposal. This incident confirmed his estimate of the girl and made him all the more determined to pursue his attentions to her, for she had demonstrated that she was above the rather low level on which his white friends had, by insinuation, placed their guests. From that moment Ammar Baddan saw as much of the ladies of the theatrical company as possible. He had a shop in the Chowringhee, the most important thoroughfare of the city, and he invited them to look on his treasures and presented them all with mementoes of their visit. He visited the race course with them, always being near the blonde girl, showed to her and explained the monuments on the Maidan, and took her and some of her friends, with Taylor and a few men, on several trips up the Hugli. He made himself extremely agreeable, once taking the ladies to the Zoölogical Gardens, and on every occasion his friend Taylor accompanied the party. His politeness never forsook him, and a short time before the company left Calcutta for Madras he came to Taylor and asked him if he would advise making a declaration of his love for the girl with the golden hair. Taylor asked for some time to consider the matter, and finally told him that there was no reason why he should not at least tell her. One supposes that the question of caste and the problem of marriage between two people of different races had to be considered. In the end Ammar Baddan boldly made the opportunity and asked the girl to marry him. She consented, and Ammar Baddan went in transports of happiness to his friend Taylor and thanked him for bringing this joy into his life. They were married shortly afterward. Such, then, was Ammar Baddan's life up to the time he remained in India. All these particulars were known during his trial, though they did not all come out; but they are stated in some detail to show how fair our law is, and how thorough, before it takes upon itself the grave responsibility of passing sentence. Ammar Baddan had been married for less than a year when he came to England, bringing his wife with him. His reason for coming may be stated briefly. His father had, in the course of his business, secured a very rare and valuable carpet. It was, apparently, more a praying rug than a carpet, and it had a duplicate that Ammar Baddan and his father also wished to possess. Remember that, as has been stated, the Tamils are wonderfully keen business men. Having secured the one carpet, Ammar Baddan and his father set out to trace its duplicate. They searched India; their agents went as far as Persia and Egypt. How these things are known is part of the secrets of the trade, but Ammar's father came to him one day with the information that the duplicate of the carpet which they wanted had been in a bazaar in Madras and had been sold to an Englishman. Ammar's wife was in the apartment when this news was given to her husband, and after her father-in-law had gone his wife added to the information. She told him that she believed that the duplicate of his carpet was in the possession of the Englishman, Taylor. She had seen it in his flat, but had not understood that it was so valuable as Ammar estimated; and had, indeed, not known that the search was being made until that moment. Ammar was overjoyed at the news. He loved his wife very much and promised her that for the information he would give her any present she asked for. But first he made a journey over to Howrah, on the opposite side of the Hugli, where Taylor lived, to make inquiries.