After this interrogation I was taken to an adjoining room, carefully guarded by several detectives. The English had not been able to prove that secret intercourse had taken place between us and the Irish in Tralee. They may therefore have come to the conclusion that they could not, as they had threatened, shoot or hang us without a gross violation of international law. They therefore looked round for some other excuse to vent their anger on me and catch me. They soon found one, and when I was again brought in the English captain explained to me that I must be shot because I had blown up my ship after I had been taken prisoner!
This, of course, was nonsense. When I followed the English cruiser to Queenstown I was by no means a prisoner; I was simply a neutral obeying their command because no other course was open to me.
Nevertheless, the English captain continued to point out that they were not violating international law, but that we ourselves had violated international law by misuse of a neutral flag. We could not, therefore, claim to be treated as lawful combatants, and must expect the treatment always meted out to pirates, hanging or shooting. As before, when on board the Bluebell, I tried the effect of the threat that the German Government would make reprisals. Then the inquiry ended. Before I was led away, however, the captain informed me that he could no longer regard me as an officer, as I had not told him the truth! These English really had a very naïve conception of a German officer's honour and sense of duty.
When I arrived in Chatham I soon found that the English captain had not spoken empty words. The treatment which I now received left much to be desired. Of the much-vaunted chivalrousness of the English towards their captive enemies I saw no trace.
For several days we remained in this solitary confinement without knowing what our fate was to be. None of us will ever forget these days of anxious uncertainty. I was examined several times in my cell also. From the ever-increasing strictness of the guards, their constant whispering, the sidelong looks they gave me when they thought they were observed, I concluded that we were in a very serious position.
On four successive nights Zeppelin attacks were made on London, and Chatham also got its share. The excitement of the English, when it was announced, 'The Zepps are coming,' can hardly be described. My nerves had gradually become so dulled that I hardly took any notice of the attacks.
After long, anxious days, we were released from this nerve-racking confinement. I had already given up all hope. An escort came early one morning for us and took us first to London and then to an officer prisoner-of-war camp. I learned that the rest of the crew had been moved the day before. When, after a long railway journey, we arrived at Castle Donington, near Derby, we at last discovered that we were being taken to Donington Hall Camp. So they had realised that they could prove no charge against us. All the same, I was not convinced of this until I saw German uniforms moving about in the distance inside the camp. Until that moment I had been ready for any new, unpleasant surprise; for this time the escort, contrary to previous custom, had been provided with handcuffs.
The road to the camp took a good half-hour, and then the great gates closed behind us with a loud bang. A large number of English officers and Tommies took us into their keeping as 'very dangerous criminals.' Shortly after my arrival at Donington Hall the court-martial on Roger Casement began, lasting for several months and ending with his condemnation. During this time the voyage of the Aud was the subject of constant inquiries on the part of the Government and the Press.
As I learned, partly through the inquiry proceedings, and afterwards from the commander of the U-boat, Sir Roger Casement had reached Tralee Bay late on the evening of our arrival. The U-boat had seen from a distance in the dark the outline of the Aud at Innistooskert, but mistook it for an English destroyer. Thereupon Casement, despairing of the arrival of the Aud, went ashore in a collapsible boat and was arrested next morning by the English who were waiting for him. His arrest had caused so much excitement among the Irish that no one dared to get into communication with us. But Casement's arrest caused the outbreak of the Irish revolution. As, however, the Irish lacked the most necessary things, rifles and heavy artillery, the revolution, bloody and serious as it was, could only fail. Sir Roger Casement was sentenced to be hanged. On the 3rd of August the sentence was carried out. The brilliant defence which Casement made had been of no avail. He died every inch a man, and with the consciousness that the idea for which he had fought and suffered would sink deeper in the hearts of the Irish and bring them nearer to freedom.