Though no coward, I must admit that such conversations were not calculated to produce a favourable impression on my mind.  They might have been well meant, but did more harm than good.  It is one thing to face the enemy on the battlefield, where one may defend himself; ’tis something else to be dangerously, almost mortally, wounded, and then to be at the mercy of the foe.  For three consecutive nights Nature’s greatest gift—­sleep—­to suffering humanity had departed from me.  Why could I not sleep?  Was it fear that kept me awake?  No, not that.  My conscience was clear, my hands unstained.  But locked up in that small room, with no one to speak to, my thoughts began to multiply, and I lay meditating night after night.  That was enough to make a young man old and grey.  Yet there was one friend who helped me to beguile the dreary hours of confinement.  That friend was my beloved pipe.

One evening, towards the end of February, I was told to appear before a military court the following morning.  This announcement seemed strange to me, for I was not prepared for a trial.  I was resolved what to do.

At 8 o’clock the next morning I was taken by an escort of six soldiers to the court-house.  Having taken my place in the prisoner’s box, I listened to my charges, which were recited as follows:  Fourteen cases of murder; wreckage of trains; and ill-treatment of prisoners-of-war.  To the question, “Guilty or not?” I pleaded “Not guilty,” whereupon I was requested to make my defence, which I declined to do; for the public prosecutor had promised me, and rightly so, that, if I could produce any witnesses to disprove the [alleged] charges brought against me, I could summon them.  As none of my witnesses were present, nor an opportunity of enlisting the services of an advocate and solicitor given me, I refused to take upon me the burden of pleading in self-defence.  I knew that if I did acquiesce in such a trial, it might prove fatal to my best interests.  It would then be urged, too, that Kritzinger had a fair trial, when condemned to death, something which would be altogether untrue.

After I had thrice declined to be tried without witnesses and legal advice, I was sent to gaol, and told to be ready for trial on the 7th of March.  I now addressed a letter to General French, in which I brought to his notice how I was being treated.  French wrote back that he had corresponded with Lord Kitchener concerning my case, and that Lord Kitchener’s orders were that I should have a fair trial, i.e., legal defence and witnesses for my case.

On the 1st of March, seven days before the appointed trial, I was again summoned to appear in court.  My charges were read out, and the same questions were submitted to me.  Again I declined to make a defence, and remarked:  “I am in your power, gentlemen—­you may do as you please, pronounce any sentence; but I shall not defend myself.”  I then referred the court to French’s letter, whereupon I was again removed to my lodgings.