The Heirs of Owain Glyndwr (28 page)

57

Friday 8 May 1970

The former WPC Marsh
made her way to the witness box hesitantly, looking around her constantly, as if to see who might be watching. She was dressed in a plain blue dress and brown shoes with low heels. Her face showed no trace of makeup. She was pale, and took the oath so quietly that Mr Justice Overton had to ask her to repeat it loudly enough for him to hear her.

‘She looks a bit nervous, doesn't she?' Ben whispered to Gareth.

‘She looks scared to death,' Gareth replied. ‘And I see Evan is dealing with her – an interesting choice, given that they have nothing to ask her.'

‘Please give the court your full name.'

‘Sandra Marsh,' she replied, hesitantly.

‘Thank you,' Evan said. ‘Wait there, please. My learned friends for the defence may have some questions for you.'

‘None from me,' Gareth said. As he was sitting down, he turned to Ben. ‘Go easy on her.'

‘Don't worry,' Ben replied.

He stood and faced the witness box.

‘Is it Miss or Mrs Marsh?'

‘Miss.'

‘Miss Marsh. I represent Arianwen Hughes. You know Mrs Hughes, don't you, because you were present when she was interviewed at Caernarfon Police Station by DCI Grainger and DS Scripps?'

‘Yes.' It was said very faintly.

‘Miss Marsh, I'm sorry, but it's a big courtroom, and I'm going to have to ask you to keep your voice up so that we can all hear.'

‘I'm sorry.'

He smiled. ‘That's all right. We all drop our voices sometimes. Just do your best.'

She smiled back. ‘I will.'

‘Now, at the time when you attended Mrs Hughes' interview, you were a WPC based in Caernarfon, is that right?'

‘Yes.'

‘But I understand you have left the police force since then?'

‘Yes.'

‘What are you doing now?'

‘I am looking for a job. I am living with my parents in Maesteg until I find something I want to do.'

‘I see. Well, I may come back to that. But let me ask you to remember the interview. You were present, I take it, because it was a female suspect, and it was felt appropriate to have a female officer in the room?'

‘Yes. Also, I speak Welsh, and DCI Grainger didn't know whether Mrs Hughes might want to speak in Welsh.'

‘Yes, of course. I want to take this as shortly as I can. I am going to suggest to you that DCI Grainger and DS Scripps took an extremely aggressive line with Mrs Hughes. Would you agree?'

She did not answer for some time, looking down to the floor of the witness box.

‘Miss Marsh…?'

She looked up, and seemed poised to speak, but suddenly burst into tears. Geoffrey, the usher, a veteran of many such situations, stepped forward unobtrusively with a box of tissues.

‘Would you like a glass of water?' the judge offered.

She nodded. There was a pause while Geoffrey brought it.

‘Miss Marsh' Ben said, ‘obviously my question brought back some memories. I don't want to make it difficult for you. Tell us in your own words, if you prefer, what happened during the interview.'

She blew her nose several times, and looked back at Ben.

‘They were brutal to her,' she said simply. ‘I couldn't believe it. I had only been a police officer for a few months – less than a year – but I had never witnessed anything like it. I knew she was meant to have done something terrible, and they had to question her. I understood that. But it went beyond questioning.'

‘In what way?' Ben asked.

‘They started off asking her where her husband was,' Sandra replied. ‘It was important to find him, of course, but they kept on and on at her.'

‘What was their manner?'

‘At first, they were trying to persuade her. They said they might let her see her son if she told them where her husband was. They even promised to put a good word in for her with the judge if she would give up her husband. I knew that wasn't allowed under the Judges' Rules, obviously, but in the circumstances…'

‘In the circumstances you didn't think anything of that,' Ben said. ‘Of course not. No one will criticise you for that.'

‘But when she said she didn't know, they started shouting at her. Screaming, almost. It was so bad that I kept waiting for Sergeant Griffiths to come in and ask what was going on – but he didn't.'

‘Can I ask you about one or two things that were said? Did they say words to this effect? “There's no point in crying about your son. You're not going to see him again for a very long time, if ever”?'

‘Yes.'

‘Did DS Scripps say this: “By the time we've finished with you, you will be lucky to be out in time for his silver wedding anniversary”?

‘Yes. He did. Words to that effect, anyway. I remember the bit about his silver wedding.'

‘What effect did this appear to have on Mrs Hughes?'

The witness shook her head.

‘She was already upset enough about her son when they brought her in. Sergeant Griffiths asked me to speak to her and try to calm her down. The son had already gone off to a temporary foster home, and she was beside herself. I managed to calm her down a bit, but when we went in for the interview she started asking me about him, asking if she could see him. It was terrible. Finally…'

She cried again, seizing a whole wad of tissues and holding them to her face.

‘Are you all right?'

She made a huge effort.

‘Finally, she was on her knees in a corner of the cell, begging them, pleading with them, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing, saying she would do whatever they wanted if they would bring her son to her. It was terrible…'

She cried again, dried her eyes, and looked up again.

‘That is my memory of the interview,' she said.

‘Why didn't you make a witness statement for this case?'

‘I was told not to.'

‘Indeed? By whom?'

‘By DS Scripps. He said that I had nothing to tell the court that he and DCI Grainger couldn't say, so it would be better for me not to be involved.'

‘What did you think about that?'

‘I was very unhappy about it. I went to see Sergeant Griffiths because he was my immediate superior, but he said there was nothing he could do because it was a Special Branch investigation.' She paused. ‘In fairness, I don't think he was happy about it himself, but he thought his hands were tied. You have to understand, Special Branch were everywhere during that week. They had virtually taken over the police station, and their word was law.'

Ben saw Gareth turn his head towards him, and nodded.

‘And MI5 too, Miss Marsh. They were there too, isn't that right?'

Evan was getting to his feet. Ben ignored him.

‘There was a man in a grey suit and red tie there from MI5, wasn't there, who was going in and out of the interviews?'

‘Don't answer that!' Evan almost shouted.

‘Mr Roberts,' Mr Justice Overton said, almost as loudly. ‘It is for me to tell witnesses what questions to answer and what questions not to answer. If you are ever appointed a judge, you can do what you like in your own court. But while you are at the Bar, you will not presume to tell a witness in my court not to answer a question. Is that clear?'

‘I'm sorry, my Lord, but…'

‘I will not hear any ifs and buts,' the judge replied. ‘You have been at the Bar long enough to know better, Mr Roberts. Now, please sit down.'

‘My Lord…'

‘I told you to sit down, Mr Roberts. Do not try my patience.'

Evan gradually subsided into his seat. The judge nodded to Ben.

‘Let me ask again. Did you see the man I described?'

‘Yes, he was there too. Sergeant Griffiths had to pull him out of one interview that same evening. I don't know which one, but I know Sergeant Griffiths was concerned about whatever was going on there. I wish he had come to see what was going on where I was.'

‘Thank you,' Gareth whispered to Ben.

Ben paused for some time.

‘Miss Marsh, when did you stop being a police officer?'

‘About a week after the interview of Mrs Hughes.'

‘And may I ask what led you to that decision?'

‘What I saw in Mrs Hughes' interview,' she replied. ‘Perhaps I'm just not cut out for the job. But I didn't become a police officer to see people treated the way she was, even if she was accused of a serious crime. I didn't think it was right, and I couldn't live with it.'

‘You're here to lie to the court, aren't you, Miss Marsh?' Evan asked angrily.

It was all Ben could do not to leap out of his seat, but Gareth's arm restrained him.

‘No,' she replied simply.

‘You're angry at DCI Grainger and DS Scripps because you don't approve of what they did, and you're determined to make matters look bad for them if you can?'

‘No. I'm here to tell the truth. A lot of pressure has been put on me not to, believe me. And it did keep me quiet for a while. But I am here now, and I'm telling the truth.'

Evan Roberts sat down angrily, and gestured to Jamie Broderick to deal with what remained of the prosecution case. This consisted of a long series of agreed facts – technical matters linked to the investigation, which were not in dispute – and a written statement prepared by Hugh James, a senior lecturer in Welsh history at Cardiff University.

Hugh James's statement took almost an hour to read, and consisted of a lengthy history of the rebellion against the English Crown led by Owain Glyndŵr in the fifteenth century. The judge and jury listened politely but, particularly towards the end, with waning attention. It had been a story of a reluctant rebellion, imaginative and courageous in its own way, but ultimately doomed to fail in the face of a greater force. Jamie Broderick then declared the prosecution's case closed and Mr Justice Overton adjourned for the weekend.

58

Monday 11 May 1970

‘Mr Prys-Jones,' Mr Justice
Overton said, once court was assembled, ‘now that the prosecution case has been closed, you have three choices open to you.'

It was a moment everyone in court had been imagining and anticipating ever since Caradog Prys-Jones had made his re-appearance in court and, if possible, the courtroom seemed even more crowded than usual. The possibility of another drama, another outburst and scuffle in the dock, perhaps, was never far from anyone's mind. But Caradog had seemed composed throughout, and had said nothing, except for the occasional whisper to PC Hywel Watkins. Gareth had made a point of having a quick word as court closed on the previous Friday, asking Caradog whether he had anything he wanted Gareth to raise with the judge, but while Caradog thanked him politely, there had been nothing. But now the trial had entered a new phase, and things were no longer the same.

‘The first choice is to remain silent. You are not obliged to say anything. You have the right to remain silent throughout the trial. The prosecution has the burden of proving your guilt if they can, and the jury may not hold your silence against you in any way, because that is your right. You do not have to prove your innocence. You are presumed to be innocent unless and until the prosecution proves your guilt. So you have no obligation whatsoever to give evidence, or to say anything. The second choice is to make what is called an unsworn statement from the dock. You may say anything you wish, as long as it is relevant to the case, and you cannot be asked any questions about it. Lastly, you may come into the witness box, take the oath, and give evidence. If you give evidence, it may well command more weight with the jury than an unsworn statement, but if you give evidence, you may then be cross-examined both by counsel for the other defendants, and by prosecuting counsel. What do you wish to do?'

Caradog spoke in Welsh.

‘I will give evidence,' PC Watkins translated for him.

Caradog made his way slowly from the dock to the witness box with PC Watkins, flanked by the same two burly prison officers. A uniformed police officer had positioned himself unobtrusively by the door of the courtroom. Caradog was again conventionally dressed in a smart open-necked shirt, a dark brown jacket and light brown trousers, with no Welsh insignia in sight. He stood erect in the witness box. PC Hywel Watkins stood as close to him as he could, notebook and pencil in hand. The expectant murmurs, which had run around the courtroom since Caradog's announcement that he would give evidence, subsided as he held the New Testament and took the oath in Welsh.

‘You may give your evidence in any way you wish,' Mr Justice Overton said. ‘I will only interrupt if I think something may not be clear for the jury, or if you stray into irrelevant areas.'

Caradog nodded. He waited for the translation before starting to speak. It had taken him very little time to recognise that his interpreter needed him to speak slowly, and pause often, to allow the interpretation to catch up, and he had begun to sense the natural rhythm of words and interpretation. Caradog Prys-Jones and Hywel Watkins had settled into a flow; their speech was now fluent and easy to follow.

‘First,' he said, ‘I would like to apologise for having lost my temper and become involved in a fight with the prison officers on the first day of the trial. I do not apologise for refusing to recognise the court. That is still my position. I do not recognise this tribunal as a court which can try me legitimately. It is my right as a Welsh man to be tried in Wales, by a Welsh court, using the Welsh language…'

‘Mr Prys-Jones…'

Caradog held up a hand.

‘Nonetheless, I apologise for the way in which I conducted myself, which was discourteous and achieved nothing except to make people angry. I wish to add that, although I do not recognise the court, in my opinion you have conducted the proceedings fairly.'

‘Yes, very well, Mr Prys-Jones,' the judge said. ‘Thank you.'

‘Despite my refusal to recognise the court, I have decided to give evidence today out of fairness to my sister, who has done nothing wrong and has been wrongly accused.'

Evan Roberts was on his feet.

‘My Lord, it is not proper for the defendant to make comments to the jury about the guilt or innocence of another accused. Would your Lordship please admonish him…?'

‘No, I will not, Mr Roberts,' the judge replied, cutting him off. ‘Mr Prys-Jones is representing himself, and he will be given some leeway accordingly. If he goes beyond that leeway I will intervene, and I do not require your assistance in doing so.'

‘As your Lordship pleases,' Evan growled. The judge seemed poised to reply, but checked himself.

‘As far as my evidence on my own account is concerned,' Caradog continued, in the same measured rhythm with Hywel Watkins, ‘the jury have the statement I made to the police. It contains a full account of my own actions and motivations, and I have nothing to add to it. I am content to be judged on the basis of that statement, so far as my own responsibility is concerned.

‘So far as my sister Arianwen is concerned, I wish to add this. She knew nothing about what I was doing. I kept her in the dark deliberately because I did not wish her to be involved. She is a mother with a young child, my nephew. She is a person who has been opposed to violence in any form throughout her life. If she had known what I was going to do she would have refused to have anything to do with me. In fact, I would have expected her to take steps to prevent me. But that was not my concern. My concern was simply that she is my sister, and I would never have knowingly exposed her to the risk of becoming involved. She knew nothing on the night when she was arrested, or at any time before that.'

He paused for some moments.

‘That is all I wish to say.'

There was silence for some time. In due course, Gareth stood.

‘I have no questions, my Lord.'

Ben thought for a moment.

‘Mr Prys-Jones, you said that Arianwen has always been opposed to violence. On what do you base that opinion?'

‘I base it on what I have heard her say throughout her life.'

‘Has she accompanied you on peaceful protests from time to time?'

‘Yes, we attended protests together and we attended political rallies together.'

‘Rallies on behalf of Plaid Cymru?'

‘Yes.'

‘And protests against what kind of things?'

‘Various things, including the infamous ceremony conducted in Caernarfon Castle by Elizabeth Windsor for her son.'

‘And including the flooding of the Tryweryn Valley and the destruction of the village of Capel Celyn?'

Caradog bowed his head and closed his eyes. It took him some time to reply.

‘Yes, including that.'

‘When you attended these protests and rallies, did you ever see her act in a violent way?'

‘No, not once.'

‘Is your sister a Welsh nationalist?'

‘She does believe in independence for Wales, yes. But she is an artist, a musician, and her main concerns have always been the preservation of the Welsh language, and protecting our cultural identity. She is a member of
Cymdeithas yr iaith
– the Welsh Language Society. She is a gentle woman. She has never been involved with violence in any form.'

‘Thank you, Mr Prys-Jones. I have no further questions, my Lord.'