When they got as far as the lodge-gate Parker suggested that Reuben Conway should run and get something which might stanch the bleeding. He went, leaving these tragic lovers together for the last time. When he returned he found Parker holding something to her throat.
‘Is she living?’ he asked.
‘She is,’ said Parker.
‘Oh, take me home!’ wailed the poor girl. A little farther upon their dolorous journey they met two farmers, who helped them.
‘Who has done this?’ asked one of them.
‘He knows and I know,’ said Parker, gloomily. ‘I am the man who has done this, and I shall be hanged for it. I have done it, and there is no question about that at all.’
These replies never seem to have brought insult or invective upon his head, for everyone appears to have been silenced by the overwhelming tragedy of the situation.
‘I am dying!’ gasped poor Mary, and they were the last words which she ever said. Inside the hall-gates they met the poor old squire running wildly up on some vague rumour of a disaster. The bearers stopped as they saw the white hair gleaming through the darkness.
‘What is amiss?’ he cried.
Parker said, calmly, ‘It is your grand-daughter Mary murdered.’
‘Who did it?’ shrieked the old man.
‘I did it.’
‘Who are you?’ he cried.
‘My name is Vincent Parker.’
‘Why did you do it?’
‘She has deceived me, and the woman who deceives me must die.’
The calm concentration of his manner seems to have silenced all reproaches.
‘I told her I would kill her,’ said he, as they all entered the house together. ‘She knew my temper.’
The body was carried into the kitchen and laid upon the table. In the meantime Parker had followed the bewildered and heart-broken old man into the drawing-room, and holding out a handful of things, including his watch and some money, he asked him if he would take care of them. The squire angrily refused. He then took two bundles of her letters out of his pocket — all that was left of their miserable love story.
‘Will you take care of these?’ said he. ‘You may read them, burn them, do what you like with them. I don’t wish them to be brought into court.’
The grandfather took the letters and they were duly burned.
And now the doctor and the policeman, the twin attendants upon violence, came hurrying down the avenue. Poor Mary was dead upon the kitchen table, with three great wounds upon her throat. How, with a severed carotid, she could have come so far or lived so long is one of the marvels of the case. As to the policeman, he had no trouble in looking for his prisoner. As he entered the room Parker walked towards him and said that he wished to give himself up for murdering a young lady. When asked if he were aware of the nature of the charge he said, ‘Yes, quite so, and I will go with you quietly, only let me see her first.’
‘What have you done with the knife?’ asked the policeman.
Parker produced it from his pocket, a very ordinary one with a clasp blade. It is remarkable that two other penknives were afterwards found upon him. They took him into the kitchen and he looked at his victim.
‘I am far happier now that I have done it than before, and I hope that she is.’ said he.
This is the record of the murder of Mary Groves by Vincent Parker, a crime characterized by all that inconsequence and grim artlessness which distinguish fact from fiction. In fiction we make people say and do what we should conceive them to be likely to say or do, but in fact they say and do what no one would ever conceive to be likely. That those letters should be a prelude to a murder, or that after a murder the criminal should endeavour to stanch the wounds of his victim, or hold such a conversation as that described with the old squire, is what no human invention would hazard. One finds it very difficult on reading all the letters and weighing the facts to suppose that Vincent Parker came out that day with the preformed intention of killing his former sweetheart. But whether the dreadful idea was always there, or whether it came in some mad flash of passion provoked by their conversation, is what we shall never know. It is certain that she could not have seen anything dangerous in him up to the very instant of the crime, or she would certainly have appealed to the labourer who passed them in the lane.
The case, which excited the utmost interest through the length and breadth of England, was tried before Baron Martin at the next assizes. There was no need to prove the guilt of the prisoner, since he openly gloried in it, but the whole question turned upon his sanity, and led to some curious complications which have caused the whole law upon the point to be reformed. His relations were called to show that madness was rampant in the family, and that out of ten cousins five were insane. His mother appeared in the witness-box contending with dreadful vehemence that her son was mad, and that her own marriage had been objected to on the ground of the madness latent in her blood. All the witnesses agreed that the prisoner was not an ill-tempered man, but sensitive, gentle, and accomplished, with a tendency to melancholy. The prison chaplain affirmed that he had held conversations with Parker, and that his moral perception seemed to be so entirely wanting that he hardly knew right from wrong. Two specialists in lunacy examined him, and said that they were of opinion that he was of unsound mind. The opinion was based upon the fact that the prisoner declared that he could not see that he had done any wrong.
‘Miss Groves was promised to me,’ said he, ‘and therefore she was mine. I could do what I liked with her. Nothing short of a miracle will alter my convictions.’
The doctor attempted to argue with him. ‘Suppose anyone took a picture from you, what steps would you take to recover it?’ he asked.
‘I should demand restitution,’ said he ‘if not, I should take the thief’s life without compunction.’
The doctor pointed out that the law was there to be appealed to, but Parker answered that he had been born into the world without being consulted, and therefore he recognised the right of no man to judge him. The doctor’s conclusion was that his moral sense was more vitiated than any case that he had seen. That this constitutes madness would, however, be a dangerous doctrine to urge, since it means that if a man were only wicked enough he would be screened from the punishment of his wickedness.
Baron Martin summed up in a common-sense manner. He declared that the world was full of eccentric people, and that to grant them all the immunity of madness would be a public danger. To be mad within the meaning of the law a criminal should be in such a state as not to know that he has committed crime or incurred punishment. Now, it was clear that Parker did know this, since he had talked of being hanged. The Baron accordingly accepted the jury’s finding of ‘Guilty,’ and sentenced the prisoner to death.
There the matter might very well have ended were it not for Baron Martin’s conscientious scruples. His own ruling had been admirable, but the testimony of the mad doctors weighed heavily upon him, and his conscience was uneasy at the mere possibility that a man who was really not answerable for his actions should lose his life through his decision. It is probable that the thought kept him awake that night, for next morning he wrote to the Secretary of State, and told him that he shrank from the decision of such a case.
The Secretary of State, having carefully read the evidence and the judge’s remarks, was about to confirm the decision of the latter, when, upon the very eve of the execution, there came a report from the gaol visitors — perfectly untrained observers — that Parker was showing undoubted signs of madness. This being so the Secretary of State had no choice but to postpone the execution, and to appoint a commission of four eminent alienists to report upon the condition of the prisoner. These four reported unanimously that he was perfectly sane. It is an unwritten law, however, that a prisoner once reprieved is never executed, so Vincent Parker’s sentence was commuted to penal servitude for life — a decision which satisfied, upon the whole, the conscience of the public.
* * *
THE END
THE BRITISH CAMPAIGN IN FRANCE AND FLANDERS VOLUMES I-VI
CONTENTS
VOLUME I.
PREFACE
I. THE BREAKING OF THE PEACE
II. THE OPENING OF THE WAR
III. THE BATTLE OF MONS
IV. THE BATTLE OF LE CATEAU
V. THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE
VI. THE BATTLE OF THE AISNE
VII. THE LA BASSÉE — ARMENTIÈRES OPERATIONS (From October 11 to October 31, 1914)
VIII. THE FIRST BATTLE OF YPRES (Up to the Action of Gheluvelt, October 31)
IX. THE FIRST BATTLE OF YPRES (continued) (From the Action of Gheluvelt to the Winter Lull)
X. A RETROSPECT AND GENERAL SUMMARY
XI. THE WINTER LULL OF 1914
THE END
VOLUME II.
PREFACE
I. THE OPENING MONTHS OF 1915
II. NEUVE CHAPELLE AND HILL 60
III. THE SECOND BATTLE OF YPRES Stage I. The Gas Attack, April 22-30
IV. THE SECOND BATTLE OF YPRES Stage II. The Bellewaarde Lines
V. THE BATTLE OF RICHEBOURG FESTUBERT May 9-24
VI. THE TRENCHES OF HOOGE
VII. THE BATTLE OF LOOS The First Day — September 25
VIII. THE BATTLE OF LOOS The Second Day — September 26
IX. THE BATTLE OF LOOS From September 27 to the End of the Year
VOLUME III.
PREFACE
I. JANUARY TO JULY 1916
II. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME Attack of the Seventh and Eighth Corps on Gommecourt, Serre, and Beaumont Hamel
III. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME Attack of the Tenth and Third Corps, July 1, 1916
IV. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME The Attack of the Fifteenth and Thirteenth Corps, July 1, 1916
V. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME From July 2 to July 14, 1916
VI. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME The Breaking of the Second Line. July 14, 1916
VII. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME July 14 to July 31
VIII. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME The Operations of Gough’s Army upon the Northern Flank up to September 15
IX. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME August 1 to September 15
X. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME Breaking of the Third Line, September 15
XI. THE GAINING OF THE THIEPVAL RIDGE
XII. THE BATTLE OF THE SOMME From September 15 to the Battle of the Ancre
XIII. THE BATTLE OF THE ANCRE November 13, 1916
VOLUME IV.
PREFACE
I. THE GERMAN RETREAT UPON THE ARRAS-SOISSONS FRONT
II. THE BATTLE OF ARRAS April 9 to April 23, 1917
III. OPERATIONS IN THE ARRAS SECTOR FROM APRIL 23 ONWARDS
IV. THE BATTLE OF MESSINES June 7, 1917
V. OPERATIONS FROM JUNE 10 TO JULY 31
VI. THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES July 31, 1917
VII. THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES August 1 to September 6
VIII. THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES September 6 to October 3, 1917
IX. THE THIRD BATTLE OF YPRES October 4 to November 10, 1917
X. THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI First Phase of Battle, November 20
XI. THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI Second Phase of Battle, November 30
VOLUME V.
PREFACE
I. EVENTS UPON THE BRITISH FRONT UP TO MARCH 21, 1918
II. THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE SOMME Attack upon the Seventeenth and Sixth Corps
III. THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE SOMME Attack on the Fourth and Fifth Corps
IV. THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE SOMME Attack upon the Fifth Army, March 2
V. THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE SOMME The Retreat of the Seventh and Nineteenth Corps
VI. THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE SOMME The Retreat of the Eighteenth Corps, March 21-29
VII. THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE SOMME The Retreat of the Third Corps
VIII. THE SOMME FRONT FROM APRIL 1 ONWARDS
IX. THE BATTLE OF THE LYS April 9-12
X. THE BATTLE OF THE LYS April 13 to May 8
XI. THE BATTLES OF THE CHEMIN DES DAMES AND OF THE ARDRES May 27 to June 2
VOLUME VI.
I. THE OPENING OPERATIONS From July 1 to August 8, 191
II. ATTACK OF RAWLINSON’S FOURTH ARMY The Battle of Amiens, August 8–22
III. CONTINUATION OF THE OPERATIONS OF RAWLINSON’S FOURTH ARMY From August 22 to the Battle of the Hindenburg Line, September 29
IV. THE ATTACK OF BYNG’S THIRD ARMY August 21, 1918, to September 29, 1918
V. THE ADVANCE OF HORNE’S FIRST ARMY From August 26 to September 27
VI. THE OPERATIONS OF RAWLINSON’S FOURTH ARMY From the Battle of the Hindenburg Line (September 29) to the Battle of the Selle, October 17
VII. THE OPERATIONS OF RAWLINSON’S FOURTH ARMY From the Battle of the Selle, October 17, to the end
VIII. OPERATIONS OF BYNG’S THIRD ARMY From the Battle of the Hindenburg Line (September 29) to the Battle of the Selle (October 17)
IX. OPERATIONS OF BYNG’S THIRD ARMY From the Battle of the Selle, October 12, to the end
X. THE ADVANCE OF HORNE’S FIRST ARMY From September 27 to the end
XI. OPERATIONS OF THE SECOND AND FIFTH ARMIES September 28 — November 11
XII. THE END
APPENDIX
TO GENERAL SIR WILLIAM ROBERTSON THIS CHRONICLE OF THE GREAT WAR
IN WHICH HE RENDERED SUCH INVALUABLE SERVICE TO HIS COUNTRY IS DEDICATED
Map to illustrate the British Campaign in France and Flanders, 1914
VOLUME I.
PREFACE
IT is continually stated that it is impossible to bring out at the present time any accurate history of the war. No doubt this is true so far as some points of the larger strategy are concerned, for the motives at the back of them have not yet been cleared up. It is true also as regards many incidents which have exercised the minds of statesmen and of many possibilities which have worried the soldiers. But so far as the actual early events of our own campaign upon the Continent are concerned there is no reason why the approximate truth should not now be collected and set forth. I believe that the narrative in this volume will in the main stand the test of time, and that the changes of the future will consist of additions rather than of alterations or subtractions.
The present volume deals only with the events of 1914 in the British fighting-line in France and Belgium. A second volume dealing with 1915 will be published within a few months. It is intended that a third volume, covering the current year, shall carry on this contemporary narrative of a tremendous episode.
From the first days of the war I have devoted much of my time to the accumulation of evidence from first-hand sources as to the various happenings of these great days. I have built up my narrative from letters, diaries, and interviews from the hand or lips of men who have been soldiers in our armies, the deeds of which it was my ambition to understand and to chronicle. In many cases I have been privileged to submit my descriptions of the principal incidents to prominent actors in them, and to receive their corrections or endorsement. I can say with certainty, therefore, that a great deal of this work is not only accurate, but that it is very precisely correct in its detail. The necessary restrictions which forbade the mention of numbered units have now been removed, a change made possible by the very general rearrangements which have recently taken place. I am able, therefore, to deal freely with my material. As that material is not always equally full, it may have occasionally led to a want of proportion, where the brigade occupies a line and the battalion a paragraph. In extenuation of such faults, and of the omissions which are unavoidable, I can only plead the difficulty of the task and throw myself upon the reader’s good nature. Some compensation for such shortcoming may be found in the fact that a narrative written at the time reflects the warm emotions which these events aroused amongst us more clearly than the more measured story of the future historian can do.
It may seem that the political chapters are somewhat long for a military work, but the reader will find that in subsequent volumes there are no further politics,
so that this survey of the European conditions of 1914 is a lead up to the whole long narrative of the actual contest.
I would thank my innumerable correspondents (whom I may not name) for their very great help. I would also admit the profit which I have derived from reading Coleman’s Mons To Ypres, and especially Lord Ernest Hamilton’s The First Seven Divisions. These books added some new facts, and enabled me to check many old ones. Finally, I desire to thank my friend Mr. P.L. Forbes for his kind and intelligent assistance in arranging my material.
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE,
WINDLESHAM, CROWBOROUGH,
October 1916.
I. THE BREAKING OF THE PEACE
IN the frank, cynical, and powerful book* of General Bernhardi which has been so often quoted in connection with the war there is one statement which is both true and important. It is, that no one in Great Britain thought seriously of a war with Germany before the year 1902. As a German observer he has fixed this date, and a British commentator who cast back through the history of the past would surely endorse it. Here, then, is a point of common agreement from which one can construct a scheme of thought.
[* Deutschland und der nächste Krieg (Germany And The Next War), Cotta Verlag, Stuttgart 1912. ]
Why then should the British people in the year 1902 begin to seriously contemplate the possibility of a war with Germany? It might be argued by a German apologist that this date marks an appreciation by Great Britain that Germany was a great trade rival who might with advantage be crushed. But the facts would not sustain such a conclusion. The growth of German trade and of German wealth was a phenomenon with which the British were familiar. It had been constant since the days when Bismarck changed the policy of his country from free trade to protection, and it had competed for twenty years without the idea of war having entered British minds. On the contrary, the prevailing economic philosophy in Great Britain was, that trade reacts upon trade, and that the successful rival becomes always the best customer. It is true that manufacturers expressed occasional irritation at the methods of German commerce, such as the imitation of British trade-marks and shoddy reproductions of British products. The Fatherland can produce both the best and the worst, and the latter either undersold us or forced down our own standards. But apart from this natural annoyance, the growing trade of Germany produced no hostility in Great Britain which could conceivably have led to an armed conflict. Up to the year 1896 there was a great deal of sympathy and of respect in Great Britain for the German Empire. It was felt that of all Continental Powers she was the one which was most nearly allied to Britain in blood, religion, and character. The fact that in 1890 Lord Salisbury deliberately handed over to Germany Heligoland — an island which blockaded her chief commercial port and the harbour of her warships — must show once for all how entirely Germany lay outside of any possible world-struggle which could at that time be foreseen. France has always had its warm partisans in this country, but none the less it can most truthfully be said that during all the years that Britain remained in political isolation she would, had she been forced to take sides, have assuredly chosen to stand by the Triple Alliance. It is hard now to recall those days of French pinpricks and of the evil effects which they produced. Germany’s foreign policy is her own affair, and the German people are the judges of those who control it, but to us it must appear absolutely demented in taking a line which has driven this great world-power away from her side — or, putting it at its lowest, away from an absolute neutrality, and into the ranks of her enemies.
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