Palace of Justice

24

The Palace of Justice dominated the atmosphere of the Square. We were sitting on the steps under Oom Paul’s statue. I sought a diversion.

‘Tell me about this building your great-grandfather designed,’ I said to Wierda, looking over my shoulder at the Palace of Justice. ‘What style is that, Neo-Gothic, Neo-Renaissance, Neo-Baroque or just Nineteenth Century Eclectic?’ I did not mention that I had picked building styles at random from one of my son’s Art History assignments.

Wierda stood up and faced the building directly. It sat in splendid sunshine under a clear blue sky, the row of trees in front of it already in their finest greenery. Spring is a good season to be in Pretoria. The temperature was in the mid-twenties, not too warm to wear a full suit in the sun, and there was just the gentlest of breezes. Pretorians of all hues were lazing about on the Square. Some tourists were taking photographs.

‘Well, it is said to be in the Italian Renaissance style,’ said Wierda.

‘What makes it Italian Renaissance?’ Roshnee asked. ‘It looks just like the City Hall in Durban. The same grey stone masonry and the corners with those blocks that look like sentinels. Isn’t that rather British?’

Wierda stood up, his half-finished cool drink forgotten for the moment. ‘The English had nothing to do with the design of the building. It was almost complete by the time they occupied Pretoria in 1900.’

‘That only tells us the building isn’t English,’ I grumbled. ‘But what makes it Italian Renaissance?’

Wierda sighed. ‘Come and stand here and I’ll show you,’ he ordered with sudden authority.

‘Look at the building,’ he commanded. Having asked the question I now had no choice but to get up for a lecture.

Wierda pointed as he spoke. ‘See the symmetry in the design of the facade. See how the eye is drawn from the corners of the building towards the centre and then up to the two towers and how the dome is set slightly back between them? Note how the smaller columns support the brickwork of the first and second floors and appear to extend further upwards to the spires on the roof? See how every feature forces the eye inward towards the main entrance and upwards from there to the dome?’

Roshnee and I dutifully followed the finger pointing to the features mentioned. We looked from side to side and up and down as instructed.

Wierda then scrambled higher up the steps of the monument and stood at the top at Oom Paul’s left hand. ‘Come up here so you can see over those trees.’

He barely waited for us to join him at the top of the steps before he continued. ‘Look at the lines of the columns at the centre. They are supported by those huge stone arches between the two towers and point straight up to the dome, which is the centrepiece of the whole design. Every feature of the design is meant to draw your attention to the dome. When we are back inside the building I’ll show you that this idea is also at the core of the interior design. In its design this building dates back to the late sixteenth or early seventeenth century.’

‘Well, that would make it Late Renaissance, wouldn’t it?’ I suggested.

Wierda got off his perch and pointed at the building again.

‘There is so much in the design of this building, it would take days for me to point out all the features that make it Italian Renaissance. When you look at the Palace from here you can see how the two wings spread out from the central block. Note the symmetry. It is the symmetry that pleases the eye. The symmetry of this building is accentuated by the portico with its columns and the pediment across the front of the central block.’

‘Oh, you mean that low-pitched thing there?’ I pointed with my reading glasses. ‘I thought a pediment had something to do with feet.’

Wierda shook his head. The look on his face said it all. ‘Total philistines,’ he muttered.

‘Come on down and finish your sandwich,’ I said. ‘We are due back in court in ten minutes.’

‘No,’ he said, ‘I’ll make you a sketch.’ He took his pad and with a few quick strokes of his pen produced a sketch. As I looked from the sketch to the building the thought crossed my mind that the blood of the architect who had designed the Palace was flowing in the veins of the young man next to me.

Wierda’s enthusiasm was contagious and I was to find myself unable to look at the Palace again without wondering about its lines, the angles, the proportions and the mixture of materials. The classical portico, now that I understood what it was, did indeed lend an appearance of timeless grandeur and elegance to the Palace.

I wondered also whether art was supposed to be about peace and harmony. Wierda had made the Palace look so peaceful, but inside its pleasing exterior was Court C, a place of pain and conflict and fear and death, and we were walking slowly back to it.

We took our places and I turned to a new section in my trial notebook.

‘All right, Mr Labuschagne, let’s deal with the servicing of the equipment first. Could you please tell the Court what duties you had in this regard?’

Labuschagne explained that he was given these tasks because he was the new boy.

He had to clean and prepare the gallows room. The cleaning started at the staircase from the ground floor up. There were fifty-four steps going up two storeys with railings on the left and right of the stairs. The stairs and railings had to be wiped down. He had to sweep and clean the two rooms at the top. There was often urine and excrement on the stairs and in the anterooms. In the gallows room he had to clean the windows and all the equipment had to be serviced.

He had to take the ropes off the beam and clean them.

I asked him what he did with the ropes.

‘I would wipe and coil them and put them in the wardrobe,’ he said.

‘Tell the Court about servicing the gallows, but keep it short, please.’

‘I had to check everything. I had to pull the trapdoors up and lock them into position. I put the safety pin in and cleaned the lever and oiled the moving parts. I went down to the pit room to clean and oil the underside of the trapdoors. I checked the stopper bags and if they were broken I had to repair them.’

When he stopped speaking, I asked, ‘Did anyone assist you with this work?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Why not?’ I asked, though I knew why.

Labuschagne looked down and mumbled inaudibly.

I gripped the lectern more tightly. This was an important piece of evidence. I raised my voice slightly. ‘I beg your pardon,’ I said, ‘I couldn’t hear your last answer. Would you please speak up?’

Judge van Zyl shook his head slightly; perhaps he had heard the answer the first time.

I continued. ‘Why did no one want to work in that room?’

Labuschagne hesitated more. Then, still looking down at the microphone in front of him, he answered simply, ‘Because there are ghosts there.’

For the second time in minutes silence fell over the Court. I stood motionless as I waited for Labuschagne to look at me. He was staring at a point on the registrar’s table. I waited until he looked up and found my eyes.

‘Tell the Court about the ghosts in that room.’

Labuschagne took a half step away from the microphone as if it was itself a ghost he’d suddenly seen before him.

‘There are ghosts there,’ he said again. ‘I’ve seen them. Everyone has seen them.’

‘Tell us about the ghosts,’ I said.

Labuschagne looked from me to the Judge.

‘I saw it for myself. The first time I was working on the stopper bags, I was sewing a bag together again and I felt the hair on my arms rise and someone blowing cold air in my face. I saw something or someone, in the corner of my eye. I looked in that direction, but there was nothing. But as soon as I looked down at the bag it was there again, in the corner of my eye, moving across the room. I looked up, but it was gone again. I worked out that it could not be faced directly. But it was definitely there, and it moved across the room, sometimes from left to right and sometimes in the other direction.’

‘Did you do anything about what you had seen?’ I asked.

‘No, sir. I thought they would think I was chicken, but we all knew the ghosts were there. Everyone talked about it.’

Judge van Zyl stirred and, when I hesitated, asked, ‘Did you see the ghost before or after you had heard the other warders talking about it?’

‘I saw the ghosts many times before I heard. And the prisoners in C Section complained that someone was gliding along the catwalk and was keeping them awake. So we checked the whole section, but we could see nothing.’

The Judge sat back in his chair again, indicating that I could continue.

‘So what did you make of what you had seen?’ I asked.

‘Well, I started thinking about that room. I thought about the people who had been hanged there since the prison had been built. I became worried that some of them could have been innocent, maybe, or perhaps hadn’t deserved to die. I prayed more and I went to church more often. Then I found that I was no longer scared. I could work in that room without fear. There was nothing a ghost could do to me. I just carried on with my work.’

‘What else did you have to do with regard to the maintenance and servicing of the gallows equipment?’

Labuschagne thought about the question. ‘No, I think that was all. We always cleaned the pit room immediately after a hanging, so I had nothing to do there.’

‘So what was left for the Executioner to do before an execution?’

‘He tied the ropes to the beam according to the drops we had calculated, the length of the drop for each prisoner, and then he just waited for the prisoners.’

‘Did you say the length of the drop we had calculated?’ I asked.

‘Yes, sir. We took the measurements and I did the drop calculations.’

‘Why were you doing that?’

‘The Warrant Officer said I had matric maths and could do it; he showed me how. He gave me an old circular and this circular set out how to calculate the length of the drop for each prisoner.’

‘What calculations did you have to make?’ I realised that the question was not exactly as I had intended and I had to correct myself quickly. ‘Or rather, how did you calculate the drop?’

‘Well, we took the weight, height and neck size of the prisoner. Then I would look at the table and find the correct drop for the prisoner’s weight. I would then work out the precise length of each rope for the prisoners to be hanged and give them to the Warrant Officer. In the beginning he double-checked my drops but later he simply passed them on to the Hangman. In the morning he tied the ropes to the beam.’

The Assessor on the right whispered something to the Judge.

‘I did not quite follow how you calculated the drop and I think one of my Assessors has the same difficulty,’ said the Judge. ‘Could you please explain again but take it slowly, step by step.’

‘Can I use the table?’ Labuschagne looked at the Judge, but I answered him with a question.

‘Do you have it with you?’

‘Have your counsel seen it?’ asked the Judge.

‘Yes, sir.’

Judge van Zyl conferred briefly with his Assessors. ‘Then you may use the table. Are there copies for us?’

I held them up in my hand and the usher came across and took them. Then he handed all but two to the registrar and gave those to the two prosecutors. James Murray looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. I had not intended to lead this evidence, but if the Judge and Assessors were interested they should have it.

The Judge and Assessors studied the document briefly before the Judge nodded, ‘Proceed.’

‘As M’Lord pleases,’ I said. ‘I’ll mark this Exhibit H.’

‘Please explain to us, using this table, how the drop was calculated. Go slowly, step by step.’

Labuschagne picked up the two sheets constituting the Table of Drops and studied it for a moment. Pointing at the table, he spoke with the authority of a man familiar with the details. ‘For the weights within the scale of the table, we used the drops set out there.’ His voice gained strength. ‘For weights off the table, for example, men weighing more than two hundred and ten pounds, we did the calculation according to the formula. We often had men over two hundred and ten, and then we used the formula. You divide eight hundred and forty foot pounds by the weight of the prisoner and his clothing. That gives the distance the prisoner has to fall. The length of the rope has to be the distance from the shackle on the beam to the prisoner’s neck plus the length of the drop.’

He looked up to find everyone studying the table.

EXHIBIT H

EXECUTIONS: – TABLE OF DROPS (APRIL 1892)

The length of the drop may usually be calculated by dividing 840 foot-pounds by the weight of the culprit and his clothing in pounds, which will give the length of the drop in feet, but no drop should exceed 8 feet. Thus a person weighing 140 pounds in his clothing will require a drop of 840 divided by 140 = 6 feet. The following Table is calculated on this basis up to the weight of 210 pounds: –

TABLE OF DROPS

WEIGHT OF THE PRISONER IN HIS CLOTHES	LENGTH OF THE DROP	WEIGHT OF THE PRISONER IN HIS CLOTHES	LENGTH OF THE DROP	WEIGHT OF THE PRISONER IN HIS CLOTHES	LENGTH OF THE DROP
LBS.	FT. INS.	LBS.	FT. INS.	LBS.	FT. INS.
105 and under	8 0	127 and under	6 7	163 and under	5 2
106            "	7 11	128            "	6 6	165            "	5 1
107            "	7 10	130            "	6 5	168            "	5 0
108            "	7 9	132            "	6 4	170            "	4 11
109            "	7 8	134            "	6 3	173            "	4 10
110            "	7 7	136            "	6 2	177            "	4 9
112            "	7 6	138            "	6 1	180            "	4 8
113            "	7 5	140            "	6 0	183            "	4 7
114            "	7 4	142            "	5 11	186            "	4 6
115            "	7 3	144            "	5 10	189            "	4 5
117            "	7 2	146            "	5 9	193            "	4 4
118            "	7 1	148            "	5 8	197            "	4 3
120            "	7 0	150            "	5 7	201            "	4 2
121            "	6 11	152            "	5 6	205            "	4 1
123            "	6 10	155            "	5 5	210            "	4 0
124            "	6 9	157            "	5 4
126            "	6 8	160            "	5 3

When from any special reason such as a diseased condition of the neck of the culprit, the Governor and Medical Officer think that there should be a departure from this Table, they may inform the Executioner, and advise him as to the length of the drop which should be given in that particular case.

‘Did you ever depart from the formula or the drops as indicated by the table?’

The answer came quickly. ‘Yes, when the prisoner was very thin or had been caught exercising his neck muscles. Then we added about three inches.’

I looked up at the Judge and asked, ‘Would this be a convenient time for the adjournment, M’Lord?’

Judge van Zyl looked at the clock. ‘Is it time already? Yes, we’ll take the adjournment now. I’d like to see senior counsel in chambers.’

I joined James Murray at the door and we followed the usher to the Judge’s chambers.

‘Have you finalised the arrangements for the inspection in loco?’ the Judge asked as soon as we arrived. He was looking at Murray. I wondered why, because the prosecution’s case had been closed and it was the defence’s prerogative to ask for an inspection now. I said nothing, however. I could always argue later that the Court had instigated the inspection. Or the prosecution.

‘Yes, Judge,’ said Murray. ‘We are expected at the main entrance at two-fifteen. The Head of Maximum will give us a tour. It should take about two hours.’

‘Very well, I’ll go in my own car and take the registrar and my Assessors with me. Does the defendant have to be present?’ Judge van Zyl turned his attention to me.

‘We don’t need him to be there,’ I said.

‘Do you need him there?’ the Judge asked Murray.

‘No, thank you, Judge,’ was the response.

‘See you there then.’

We walked back to the courtroom to collect the materials we would need during the inspection. I found Wierda and we went to the robing room to change into our suits.

We worked through the next case in the coffee shop near Wierda’s chambers. Roshnee announced that she would not accompany us on the inspection.