Without doubt, one of the most interesting cases I have worked on in recent years has been Nicholas Barton, none other than the great-grandson of the late Sir Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill, the prime minister of Great Britain during World War II. In the eyes of many, Churchill not only saved England, but arguably, with the engagement of the allies, Europe.
Nicholas is the grandson of Winston’s son Randolph Churchill. Nicholas’s mother, Arabella Churchill, established and fostered the Glastonbury Festival until her untimely death from aggressive pancreatic cancer in 2007.
Nicholas was collateral damage in a major drug case involving the supply of a substantial quantity of MDMA in Coogee Beach, a mere stone’s throw from Bondi in Sydney.
In the past decade there has been an explosion of drug use in Australia’s major capital cities, and Sydney leads the pack. From as far afield as the Western Plains, through to the coastal suburbs, a drug dealer can generally be located within an hour or two.
Drugs range from cannabis through to crystal methamphetamines, as well as heroin. ‘Pills’, or MDMA as it is more scientifically known, has long been the party drug of choice among weekend revellers. It was in this cauldron of drug use that Nicholas found himself.
Despite his pedigree, Nicholas’s life had not been smooth sailing. Born into status and privilege does not guarantee an easy or free passage. Evidence was tendered that his mother had enjoyed a tipple over the years, and that she had suffered trauma at the hands of her famous father Randolph. Winston’s ‘black dog’ days have been notoriously documented and I suspected that his mood swings would have impacted upon his progeny. As is often the case within families, this can be perpetrated through the generations. Mental illness does not discriminate between the privileged and the poor.
When Nicholas was seriously busted in June 2006, Charles Waterstreet and the brilliant John ‘JD’ Weller were the obvious choice for the defence. As with Charles, JD has an impressive resume of victories. Highly regarded as a strategist and tactician, he can spend months or years working up a case through firm yet tacit behind-the-scene negotiations with those who matter on the prosecution team.
It became clear to the legal team that Nicholas needed a comprehensive psychological work-up. How could a charming intelligent person such as Nick fall into such catastrophic error? Surely some exploration of his deeper psyche may throw up some clues, if not answers? A solid, credible analysis of these dynamics just might sway the presiding judge to exercise the prerogative of mercy.
I was fortunate enough to be chosen for the task.
Most of my clients these days advise me they have ‘Googled’ me prior to seeing me. They generally tell me it makes them more comfortable discussing their history. They know that I know. And that I don’t judge. My understanding of drug use, addiction and impaired judgement is not just based on decades of hard-edged clinical experience and academic prowess. It is a function of having been there. Of having the rare glimpses of another realm and dimension to life, which only those who have made the journey can truly understand.
Nicholas knew of my history and me before I met him for the first time at Parklea jail. He had been on remand for many months. Shuffled from court to court, prison to prison, he was jaded. And yet, as family tradition and history determined, stoic.
I was immediately struck by his presence. He was the reincarnate of Winston Churchill both physically and through his facial expressions and mannerisms. He was also frightened. He was a sensitive soul, riddled with guilt and overwhelmed by the looming shadow of his mother’s illness – end-stage pancreatic cancer.
I saw him on a number of occasions in the lead-up to his sentence hearing. Charles, in his usual way, was keen to emphasise the psychological torment and struggle Nicholas had endured, not only in terms of his past history but also from the impact of his placement in prison. On the day of the hearing, Charles presented my report along with a brilliant plea tugging at the conscience of the soon-to-be retired judge. He did so by invoking our collective memories and gratitude to Sir Winston Churchill. However, the learned judge made it clear that he was not going to be swayed by the Churchillian history and that the prisoner would be appraised on the merits of the case. Nonetheless, an amazing result was obtained in December 2007 – a 21-month non-parole period. With time served, Nicholas became eligible for release within two months.
As I had established some rapport with Arabella Churchill, I contacted her that evening to spread the wonderful news that Nicholas would be home in England to see her within nine weeks. She was overjoyed with this development and thanked me for my involvement and assistance. I pointed out the essential and vital work had been done by John Weller and Charles Waterstreet.
Within a day I was contacted again by her husband. With sadness, although a sense of relief in his voice, he advised that Nicholas’s mother had died during the night. It was clear that she had been hanging on by every morsel of her being to ensure that her beloved child would not spend years of his life rotting in a New South Wales prison. Once she knew that this would not occur, she was able to let go, at peace in the knowledge that whatever happened, he would be seen in the community and move on with his life.