Mrs. Maybrick's Own Story: My Fifteen Lost YearsMaybrick, Florence Elizabeth
History
Mrs. Maybrick's Own Story: My Fifteen Lost Years
Maybrick, Florence Elizabeth
Maybrick, Florence Elizabeth, 1862-1941; Trials (Murder) -- England; Women prisoners -- England
When I was told this at a visit I had my name entered to see the
governor. I insisted that the governor should inform me when, and after
what breach of the rules, such a report had been sent to the Home
Office. After carefully looking through my penal record he could find
no entry to that effect, and concluded by saying that I must have been
misinformed. He said that my conduct was good, and that he had never
made any report to the contrary. Obviously, therefore, this report from
the Home Office to Mr. Hay was due to an adverse influence, of which I
have still no knowledge. Statements are made against a prisoner, of the
nature of which she is entirely ignorant. Being ignorant, she has no
way of refuting them. Worse still, they are retained in the Home Office
to her dying day, and the unfortunate woman knows nothing of them or
their effect. The only thing certain is that she is further condemned.
NEED OF A COURT OF CRIMINAL APPEAL
The Home Office, while exercising a private function of reconsideration
grounded on the royal prerogative of mercy, emphatically disclaims
being a court of appeal or a judicial tribunal in any sense of
the word. Yet the consideration of a convict’s case rests alone
with the Secretary of State. It is a matter of unwritten law that
the Home Secretary shall act individually and solely upon his own
responsibility, and none of his colleagues are to assume or take part
therein.
There are numerous instances where judges, witnesses, and juries have
gone wrong. Indeed, it will be found that even in cases which have
seemed the clearest and least complicated in the trial grievous
mistakes have been made. But in England the blame rests on the public
and the bar in that no means are provided to set the wrong right.
What a difference it would have made in my life if I had been granted
a second trial! I could have called other witnesses, submitted
fresh evidence, and refuted false testimony. Is it not the climax
of injustice that men and women, if sued for money, even for a few
shillings, can appeal from court to court--even to the House of Lords,
the English court of last resort; but when character, all that life
holds dear, and life itself, are in jeopardy, a prisoner’s fate may
depend upon the incompetent construction of one man, and there is no
appeal?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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