Chapter IV · (continued 3)

Cross-examined by the Attorney-General.—“I am not a member of the College of Physicians or of Surgeons. I do not now practise. I have been in general practice for two or three years. I gave evidence in the last case of this sort, tried in this court in 1850” (the case of Ann Merritt). “I gave evidence of the presence of arsenic. The woman was convicted. I stated that it had been administered within four hours of death. I was the cause of her being respited, and the sentence was not carried into effect, in consequence of a letter I wrote to the Home Office. Other scientific gentlemen interfered, and challenged the soundness of my conclusions before I wrote that letter. I have not since been employed by the Crown. There has not been a case that I know of. I have been employed in prosecutions.”

By Mr. Justice Cresswell.—“I was present at the trial. I perfectly remember it.” (See the report of this case, post.)

Cross-examination continued.—“I detected the poison. I said in my letter that I could not speak as to possibilities, but merely as to probabilities. I have experimented on animals for a great number of years. On five recently. I have never given more than a grain, and it has always been in a solid form—in pills or bread. In the case where poison was administered under disadvantageous circumstances it was kneaded up into a hard mass of bread.”

Mr. Baron Alderson.—“Did the animal bolt it or bite it?”

Witness.—“I opened the mouth and put it into the throat. About half an hour elapsed before the symptoms appeared in one case in which half a grain had been given. In another case death took place within thirteen minutes. I have noticed twitching of the ears, difficulty of breathing, and other premonitory symptoms. There are little variations in the order in which the symptoms occur. I have known frequent instances in which an animal has died in the first paroxysm. I heard the evidence of Mrs. Smyth’s death, and I was surprised at her having got out of bed when the servant answered the bell. It is not consistent with the cases I have seen. That fact does not shake my opinion. I have no doubt that Mrs. Smyth died from strychnia. Cook’s sitting up in bed and asking Jones to ring the bell is inconsistent with what I have observed in strychnia cases.”

Question.—“If a man’s breath is hurried, is it not natural for him to sit up?”

Answer.—“It is. I have seen cases of recovery of human subjects after taking strychnia. There is a great uniformity in its effects; that is, in their main features, but there is a small variation as to the time in which they are produced.”

Question.—“What do you attribute Cook’s death to?”

Answer.—“It is irreconcileable with everything with which I am acquainted.”

Question.—“Is it reconcileable with any known disease you have ever seen or heard of?”

Answer.—“No.”[58]

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee.—“We are learning new facts every day, and I do not at present conceive it to be impossible that some peculiarity of the spinal cord, unrecognisable at the examination after death, may have produced symptoms like those which have been described. I, of course, include strychnia in my answer, but it is irreconcileable with everything I have seen or heard of. It is as irreconcileable with everything else; it is irreconcileable with every disease that I am acquainted with, natural or artificial. Touching an animal during the premonitory symptoms will bring on a paroxysm. Vomiting is inconsistent with strychnia. The Romsey case was an exceptional one, from the quantity of the dose. The ringing of the bell would have produced a paroxysm. I am still of opinion that the evidence I gave on the trial in 1851 is correct. I am not aware that there is any ground for an imputation upon me in respect of that evidence. I have no reason to think Government was dissatisfied with me. I have been since employed in prosecutions, where I very much think the Crown was the prosecutor. After that case Dr. Pereira came to my laboratory, and asked me, as an act of mercy, to write a letter to him to show to the Home Office, admitting the possibility of the poison which I found in the stomach having been administered longer than four hours before death. I wrote the letter, drawing a distinction between what was possible and probable, and the woman was transported for life.”

In addition to these analytical chemists, Professor Rogers, of the St. George’s Medical School, London, described an experiment he had lately made on a dog to which he had given two grains of strychnia. He had not taken out its stomach and its contents, together with some of the blood, until three days after death, and had put off the analysis of the latter for ten days, when it had become putrid, and that of the stomach and its contents for a month or five weeks, yet found in both portions strychnia in large quantities. This witness maintained that unless the contents of the stomach in Cook’s case had been lost, their being shaken would only make the process of detection more difficult, but admitted that if strychnia had been in his stomach it would be found smeared over its mucous membrane, which, it may be remembered, was not sent to Dr. Taylor.

Dr. Francis Wrightson, a pupil of Liebig, of Giessen, a teacher of chemistry at a school in Birmingham, described two similar experiments on animals, with the same results as Professor Rogers. He expressed his decided opinion that strychnia could be detected in a mixture of bile, bilious matter, and putrifying blood and in the tissues in extremely minute quantities indeed, and that five or six days after death he should expect to find it, if it had been given—unless the dose had been entirely absorbed. The clearness and decision with which this witness gave his evidence elicited the well-deserved commendation of Lord Campbell. On cross-examination by the Attorney-General, he was asked—

Question.—“Supposing that the whole dose was absorbed into the system, where would you expect to find it?”

Answer.—“In the blood.”

Question.—“Does it pass from the blood into the solids of the body?”

Answer.—“It does, or I should rather say it is left in the solids of the body. In its progress towards its final destination, the destruction of life, it passes from the blood, or is left by the blood in the solid tissues of the body.”

Question.—“If it be present in the stomach, you find it in the stomach; if it be present in the blood, you find it there; if left by the blood in the tissues, you find it there?”

Answer.—“Precisely so.”

Question.—“Suppose the whole had been absorbed.”

Answer.—“Then I would not undertake to find it.”

Question.—“Suppose the whole had been eliminated from the blood, and had passed into the urine, should you expect to find it in the blood?”

Answer.—“Certainly not.”

Question.—“Suppose the minimum dose which will destroy life had been taken, and absorbed into the circulation, then deposited in the tissues, and then a part eliminated by the action of the kidneys; where would you search for it?”

Answer.—“In the blood, in the tissues, and in the ejections; and I would undertake to discover it in each of them.”

Mr. Partridge, the professor of Anatomy at King’s College, gave the following evidence, attributing the death of Cook to the granules found on his spine at the post-mortem examination:—

“These granules,” said the witness, “would be likely to cause inflammation, and no doubt that inflammation would have been discovered if the spinal cord or its membranes had been examined shortly after death. It would not be likely to be discovered if the spinal cord was not examined until nine weeks after death. I have not seen cases in which this inflammation has produced tetanic form of convulsions, but such cases are on record. It sometimes does, and sometimes does not produce convulsions and death.”

Question.—“Can you form any judgment as to the cause of death in Cook’s case?”

Answer.—“I cannot. No conclusion or inference can be drawn from the degree or kind of the contractions of the body after death.”

Lord Campbell.—“Can you not say from the symptoms you heard whether death was produced by tetanus, without saying what was the cause of tetanus?”

Answer.—“Hypothetically I should infer that he died of the form of tetanus which convulses the muscles. Great varieties of rigidity arise after death from natural causes. The half-bent hands and fingers are not uncommon after natural death. The arching of the feet in this case seemed to me rather greater than usual.”

Cross-examined by the Attorney-General.—“Granules are sometimes, but not commonly, found about the spine of a healthy subject,—not on the cord itself; they may exist consistently with health. No satisfactory cases of the inflammation I have described have come under my notice without producing convulsions. It is a very rare disease. I cannot state from the recorded cases the course of the symptoms of that disease. It varies in duration, sometimes lasting only for days, sometimes much longer. If the patient lives it is accompanied with paralysis. It produces no effect on the brain which is recognisable after death. It would not affect the brain prior to death. I do not know whether it is attended with loss of sensibility before death. The size of the granules which will produce it varies. This disease is not a matter of months, unless it terminates in palsy. I never heard of a case in which the patient died after a single convulsion. Between the intervals of the convulsions I don’t believe a man could have twenty-four hours’ repose. Pain and spasms would accompany the convulsions. I cannot form a judgment as to whether the general health would be affected in the intervals between them.”

Question.—“You have heard it stated that from the midnight of Monday till Tuesday Cook had complete repose. Now, I ask you, in the face of the medical profession, whether you think the symptoms which have been described proceeded from that disease?”

Answer.—“I should think not.”

Question.—“Did you ever know the hands completely clinched after death except in case of tetanus?”

Answer.—“No.”

Question.—“Have you ever known it even in idiopathic or traumatic tetanus?”

Answer.—“I have never seen idiopathic tetanus. I have seen the hands completely clinched in traumatic tetanus. A great deal of force is often required to separate them.”

Question.—“Have you ever known the feet so distorted as to assume the form of a club foot?”

Answer.—“No.”

Question.—“You heard Mr. Jones state that if he had turned the body upon the back it would have rested on the head and the heels. Have you any doubt that that is an indication of death from tetanus?”

Answer.—“No; it is a form of tetanic spasm. I am only acquainted with tetanus resulting from strychnia by reading. Some of the symptoms in Cook’s case are consistent, some are inconsistent with strychnia tetanus. The first inconsistent symptom is the intervals that occurred between the taking of the supposed poison and the attacks.”

Question.—“Are not symptoms of bending of the body, difficulty of respiration, convulsions in the throat, legs, and arms, perfectly consistent with what you know of the symptoms of death from strychnia?”

Answer.—“Perfectly consistent. I have known cases of traumatic tetanus. The symptoms in those cases had been occasionally remitted, never wholly terminated. I never knew traumatic tetanus run its course to death in less than three or four days. I never knew a complete case of the operation of strychnia upon a human subject.”

Question.—“Bearing in mind the distinction between traumatic and idiopathic tetanus, did you ever know of such a death as that of Cook according to the symptoms you have heard described?”

Answer.—“No.”

Re-examined by Mr. Grove.—“Besides the symptom which I have mentioned as being inconsistent with the theory of death by strychnia, there are others—namely, sickness, beating the bed clothes, want of sensitiveness to external impressions, and sudden cessation of the convulsions and apparent complete recovery. There was apparently an absence of the usual muscular agitation. Symptoms of convulsive character arising from an injury to the spine vary considerably in their degrees of violence, in their periods of intermission, and in the muscles which are attacked. Intermission of the disease occurs, but is not frequent in traumatic tetanus. I don’t remember that death has ever taken place in fifteen hours; it may take place in forty-eight hours during convulsions. Granules about the spine are more unusual in young people than in old. I don’t know of any case in which the spine can preserve its integrity, so as to be properly examined, for a period of nine weeks. I should not feel justified in inferring that there was no disease from not finding any at the end of that time. The period of decomposition varies from a few hours to a few days. It is not in the least probable that it could be delayed for nine weeks.”

By the Attorney-General.—“Supposing the stomach were acted on by other causes, I do not think sickness would be inconsistent with tetanus.”

With reference to the existence of these granules, Mr. Oliver Pemberton, anatomical lecturer at Queen’s College, Birmingham, who was present with Professor Bolton when Cook’s body was exhumed, in January, for the special purpose of arriving at a more satisfactory decision on this point than had been effected at the first post-mortem examination, was called for the defence. He gave it as his opinion, in which Professor Bolton agreed, that the spinal cord was not then in a condition to enable him to judge as to what was its state immediately after death; the upper part, where it separated from the brain, being green from decomposition, and the other part, though better preserved, not soft enough for that purpose. This point was, therefore, left in a far from satisfactory position.

A Dr. G. Robinson, of the Newcastle-on-Tyne Dispensary, also supported the spinal granules theory, and considered that from his habits of life Cook was predisposed to epilepsy. He admitted, however, on cross-examination, that “he had never seen symptoms of epilepsy proceed to anything like the extent as in Cook’s case; never saw a body so stiff in epilepsy as to rest on its head and heels; nor such symptoms, except in tetanus, and that the extreme form of epilepsy was always accompanied by unconsciousness.” “The granules,” he thought, “were likely to have irritated the spinal cord, and yet no indications remain after death; they might have produced Cook’s death.”

Attorney-General.—“But do you think so?”

Witness.—“Putting aside the assumption of strychnia, I should say so.”

Attorney-General.—“Are not all the symptoms reported by Mr. Jones indicative of death by strychnia?”

Witness.—“They certainly are.”

Attorney-General.—“Then it comes to this, that if there were no other cause of death suggested, you should say it arose from epilepsy?”

Witness.—“Yes. Epilepsy is a well-known disease which includes many others, and the convulsions of that disease sometimes assume tetanic appearances.”

The last important medical witness called for the defence, Dr. Benjamin Ward Richardson, physician, of London, took the prosecution somewhat by surprise by attributing Cook’s death to Angina pectoris, a cause not as yet hinted at. As the counsel for the Crown were not prepared with information requisite for an effective cross-examination on this point, at the close of the prisoner’s case the Attorney-General asked leave to recall this witness, as he was then prepared with the books required for that purpose. The Court, however, refused the application, and the evidence therefore must be accepted with caution.

Dr. Richardson said:—“I am a physician, practising in London. I have never seen a case of tetanus, properly so called, but I have seen many cases of death by convulsions. In many instances they have presented tetanic appearances without being strictly tetanus. I have seen the muscles fixed, especially those of the upper part of the body. I have observed the arms stiffened out, and the hands closely and firmly clinched until death. I have also observed a sense of suffocation in the patient. In some forms of convulsions I have seen contortions both of the legs and the feet, and the patient generally expresses a wish to sit up. I have known persons die of a disease called angina pectoris. The symptoms of that disease, I consider, resemble closely those of Mr. Cook. Angina pectoris comes under the denomination of spasmodic diseases. In some cases the disease is detectable upon post-mortem examination; in others it is not. I attended one case. A girl ten years old was under my care in 1850. I supposed she had suffered from scarlet fever. She recovered so far that my visits ceased. I left her amused and merry in the morning; at half-past ten in the evening I was called in to see her, and I found her dying. She was supported upright at her own request, her face was pale, the muscles of the face rigid, the arms rigid, the fingers clinched, the respiratory muscles completely fixed and rigid, and with all this there was combined intense agony and restlessness, such as I have never witnessed. There was perfect consciousness. The child knew me, described her agony, and eagerly took some brandy and water from a spoon. I left for the purpose of obtaining some chloroform from my own house, which was thirty yards distant. When I returned her head was drawn back, and I could detect no respiration; the eyes were then fixed open, and the body just resembled a statue; she was dead. On the following day I made a post-mortem examination. The brain was slightly congested; the upper part of the spinal cord seemed healthy; the lungs were collapsed; the heart was in such a state of firm spasm and solidity, and so emptied of blood, that I remarked that it might have been rinsed out. I could not discover any appearance of disease that would account for the death, except a slight effusion of serum in one pleural cavity. I never could ascertain any cause for the death. The child went to bed well and merry, and immediately afterwards jumped up, screamed, and exclaimed, ‘I am going to die.’”

By the Attorney-General.—“I consider that the symptoms I have described were those of angina pectoris. It is the opinion of Dr. Jenner that this disease is occasioned by the ossification of some of the small vessels of the heart. I did not find that to be the case in this instance. There have been many cases where no cause whatever was discovered. It is called angina pectoris, from its causing such extreme anguish to the chest. I do not think the symptoms I have described were such as would result from taking strychnia. There is this difference,—that rubbing the hands gives ease to the patient in cases of angina pectoris. I must say there would be great difficulty in detecting the difference in cases of angina pectoris and strychnia. As regards symptoms I know of no difference between the two. I am bound to say that if I had known so much of these subjects as I do now, in the case I have referred to I should have gone on to analysis to endeavour to detect strychnia. In the second case I discovered organic disease of the heart, which was quite sufficient to account for the symptoms. The disease of angina pectoris comes on quite suddenly, and does not give any notice of its approach. I did not send any note of this case to any medical publication. It is not at all an uncommon occurrence to find the hands firmly clinched after death in cases of natural disease.”

By Mr. Serjeant Shee.—“There are cases of angina pectoris in which the patient has recovered and appeared perfectly well for a period of twenty-four hours, and then the attack has returned. I am of opinion that the fact of the recurrence of the second fit in Cook’s case is more the symptom of angina pectoris than of strychnia poison.”[59]

Dr. Wrightson was recalled, and in answer to a question put by Mr. Serjeant Shee he said it was his opinion that when the strychnia poison was absorbed in the system it was diffused throughout the entire system.

By the Attorney-General.—“The longer time that elapsed before the death would render the absorption more complete. If a minimum dose to destroy life were given, and a long interval elapsed to the death, the more complete would be the absorption and the less the chance of finding it in the stomach.”

By Mr. Serjeant Shee.—“I should expect still to find it in the spleen and liver and blood.”

CASES OF TETANUS BROUGHT FORWARD FOR THE DEFENCE.

In answer to the cases of undoubted poisoning by strychnia proved on the part of the prosecution, four cases of tetanus were brought forward on behalf of the prisoner, with the object of showing that the symptoms then exhibited were identical with those in Cook’s case, and, therefore, raising the presumption that he might have died from ordinary tetanic convulsions, and not from those produced by strychnia.

The first of these cases was described by Mr. Robert Edward Gay, a member of the College of Surgeons, who had attended a patient of the name of Forster for tetanus in October, 1855. Apparently, at first the patient was suffering only from sore throat and its usual attendant pains in the neck and upper portion of the spine, for which he was duly treated. On the fourth day of his illness the muscular pains extended to the face, and particularly to the lower jaw, and by evening lockjaw had come on, with pains of the muscles of the bowels, legs, and arms. “He became very convulsed throughout the entire muscular system, had frequent involuntary contractions of the arms, hands, and legs; his difficulty of swallowing increased, and not a particle of food, solid or liquid, could be introduced into the mouth, the attempt to do so bringing on violent convulsions; so strong were they, that I could compare him to nothing but a piece of warped board.” The head was thrown back, the abdomen thrust forward, the legs frequently drawn up and contracted; the attempt to feed him with a spoon, the opening a window, or placing the fingers on the pulse, brought on violent convulsions. While the patient was suffering in this manner, he complained of great hunger, repeatedly exclaimed that he was hungry, and could not eat. He was kept alive to the fourteenth day entirely by injections of a milky and farinaceous character. He was insensible on the 12th, and continued so till he died. There was no sore or hurt about his body, and Mr. Gay attributed his death to an inflammatory sore throat, from cold and exposure to the weather, assuming a tetanic form, from the patient being a very nervous, excited, and anxious person. Mr. Gay, whilst satisfied that this was a case of idiopathic tetanus, admitted that he never met with such another case; that it was altogether progressive from the first onset; that although for a short time there was a remission of symptoms, they invariably recurred, and that the locking of the jaw was the very first symptom that made its appearance.

In another case, at the Royal Free Hospital, in 1843, on the 28th of July, a boy was brought in with the middle toe of his left foot smashed by a stone, which Mr. John Gay amputated. The accident had happened a week before, and the wound became very unhealthy. When the surgeon first saw him, his mouth was almost closed, and continued so until the 1st of August, but a small quantity of medicine could be introduced.

“During the first three days,” said Mr. J. Gay, “his paroxysms were of unusual severity; he complained of a stiff neck, and during the first night started up and was convulsed. On the following night he was again convulsed. At times the abdominal muscles, as well as those of the legs and back, were rigid, and the muscles of the face in a state of great contraction. He was in the same state the next day, but at two o’clock there was much less rigidity of the muscles, especially those of the abdomen and back. On the following morning the rigidity had gone, he opened his mouth and could talk; he was thoroughly relieved. He had no return of spasms till half-past five on the following day. He then asked the nurse to change his linen, and as she lifted him up in bed to do so, violent convulsions of the arms and face came on, and he died in a few minutes. About thirty hours elapsed between the preceding convulsion and the one which ended his life. Before the paroxysm came on the rigidity had been completely relaxed. Tartar emetic (containing antimony), which I gave on the second and third day, did not produce vomiting; the rigidity of the muscles of the chest would go far to prevent it. The wound might have rubbed against the bed when he was raised, but I don’t think it possible. Some peculiar irritation of the nerves would give rise to the affection of the spinal cord. There may be various causes for this irritation of the spinal cord, which ends in tetanus, but it would be very difficult merely from seeing symptoms of tetanus, and in the absence of knowledge of how it had been occasioned, to ascribe it to any particular cause. No doubt the death took place in consequence of something produced by the injury of the toe.”

The seriousness of the wound in this case, in comparison with any signs of wounds found on Cook’s body, and the severity of the shock occasioned by such a painful accident, renders this example almost valueless.

In a third case, at the London Hospital, on the 22nd of March of 1856, a patient, aged thirty-seven, was brought in about half-past seven in the evening. When in the receiving room, he had one paroxysm, and another soon after when in the ward. After the first, his pulse was feeble and rapid, his jaws closed and fixed, an expression of anxiety on his countenance, and his features sunken; he was unable to swallow, and the muscles of the abdomen and the back were somewhat tense. After the second paroxysm, his body became arched for about a minute. He was quieter for a few minutes, had a third attack, and died. He had some old neglected sores of a chronic character, particularly at the right elbow, a peculiarly sensitive spot, and Mr. Ross, the house-surgeon, who attended the case, admitted that the disease had been coming on since the morning, that he had felt symptoms of lockjaw at breakfast, and had had successive attacks all the afternoon before coming to the hospital. Here again the case had been progressive until death, and commenced with lockjaw, the admitted signs of ordinary tetanus as distinguished from that due to poison.

The last case proved was that of Catherine Wilson, of Garnkirk, near Glasgow, who “was attacked with a fit,” as she deposed, “in October last year at night, felt heavy all the day from the morning, but had no pain till night. My first pain,” she said, “was in the stomach, and then I had cramp in the arm, and became quite insensible.” By the administration of chloroform the spasms were relieved, and she recovered.

Dr. William Macdonald, of Edinburgh, who saw the case about an hour after the attack, admitted that lockjaw came on in about an hour or two after he was called in.

This witness was also put forward as a medical expert in cases of strychnia, and attributed Cook’s death to “epileptic convulsions with tetanic complications,” and was subjected to the following cross-examination by the Attorney-General:—

“I believe,” said Dr. Macdonald, “that all convulsive diseases, including the epileptic forms and the various tetanic complications, arise from the decomposition of the blood acting upon the nerves. Any mental excitement might have caused Cook’s death. Cook was excited at Shrewsbury, and whenever there is excitement there is a consequent depression. I think Cook was afterwards depressed. When a man is lying in bed and vomiting he must be depressed.”

Attorney-General.—“This gentleman was much overjoyed at his horse winning, and you think he vomited in consequence?”

Witness.—“It might predispose him to vomit.”

Attorney-General.—“I am not speaking of ‘mights.’ Do you think that the excitement of three minutes on the course on Tuesday accounts for the vomiting on Wednesday night.?”

Witness.—“I do not. I find no symptoms of excitement or depression reported between that time and his death. The white spots found in the stomach of the deceased might, by producing an inflammatory condition of the stomach, have brought on the convulsions that caused death.”

Attorney-General.—“But the gentlemen who made the post-mortem examination say that the stomach was not inflamed.”

Witness.—“There were white spots, which cannot exist without inflammation. There must have been inflammation.”

Attorney-General.—“But these gentlemen say there was not.”

Witness.—“I do not believe them. Sexual excitement might cause epileptic convulsions with tetanic complications. The chancre and syphilitic sores were evidence that Cook had undergone such excitement. That might have occurred before he was at Shrewsbury.”

Attorney-General.—“Might sexual excitement produce epilepsy a fortnight after it occurred?”

Witness.—“There is an instance on record in which epilepsy supervened upon the very act of intercourse.”

Attorney-General.—“Have you any instance in which epilepsy came on a fortnight afterwards?”

Witness.—“It is within the range of possibility.”

Attorney-General.—“Do you mean as a serious man of science to say so?”

Witness.—“The results might.”

Attorney-General.—“What results were there in this case?”

Witness.—“The chancre and the syphilitic sores.”

Attorney-General.—“Did you ever hear of a chancre causing epilepsy?”

Witness.—“No.”

Attorney-General.—“Did you ever dream of such a thing.”

Witness.—“I never heard of it.”

Attorney-General.—“Did you ever hear of any other form of syphilitic disease producing epilepsy?”

Witness.—“No; but tetanus.”

Attorney-General.—“But you say that this was epilepsy. We are not talking of tetanus.”

Witness.—“You forget the tetanic complication.”

Attorney-General.—“If I understand it right then, the sexual excitement produces epilepsy, and the chancre superadds tetanic complications.”

Witness.—“I say the results of sexual excitement produce epilepsy.”

Attorney-General.—“What would be the effect of morphia given a day or two previously; would it not retard the action of the poison?”

Witness.—“No. I have seen opium bring on convulsions very nearly similar.”

Attorney-General.—“What quantity?”

Witness.—“A grain and a half. From my experience, I think if morphia had been given a day or two before, it would have accelerated the action of the strychnia. If this were a case of poisoning by strychnia, I should suppose that as both opium and strychnia produce congestion of the brain, they would act together and have a more speedy effect. If congestion of the brain was coming on when morphia was given to Cook on the Sunday and Monday nights it might have increased rather than allayed it.”

Attorney-General.—“But the gentlemen who examined the body say there was no congestion after death.”

Witness.—“But Dr. Bamford says there was.”

Attorney-General.—“You stick to Dr. Bamford.”

Witness.—“Yes; because he was a man of experience and could judge much better than younger men, and was not so likely to be mistaken.”

Attorney-General.—“But Dr. Bamford says that Cook died of apoplexy. Do you think it was apoplexy?”

Witness.—“No; it was not.”

Attorney-General.—“What then do you think of Dr. Bamford, who certified that it was?”

Witness.—“That was a matter of opinion, but the existence of congestion on the brain he saw.”

Attorney-General.—“The other medical men said there was none.”

Lord Campbell.—“That is rather a matter of reasoning than of evidence.”

Having thus reported the medico-scientific evidence pro and con, we pass on to the moral evidence—the purchase of poison by the prisoner, and his acts during Cook’s illness and subsequent to his death.

PURCHASE OF POISON BY PALMER.

The proof that Palmer purchased strychnia on two separate occasions immediately before the convulsive attacks of which Cook died rested on the evidence of two druggists’ assistants at Rugeley. One of these, Charles Newton, assistant to Mr. Salt, swore that about nine o’clock on the Monday evening, the 19th of November, Palmer came to his master’s shop, asked for three grains of strychnia, which he gave him, without charge, as he knew him as a medical practitioner of the town. Next morning, between eleven and twelve, Roberts, the assistant of Hawkins, another druggist in Rugeley, was asked by Palmer for two drachms of prussic acid, for which he brought a bottle with him. Whilst Roberts was preparing this, Newton, the former witness, came into the shop, and Palmer, putting his hand on Newton’s shoulder, said he wished to speak with him, and together they stepped out into the street, when Palmer asked some questions about Mr. Edwin Salt going to a farm about fourteen miles from Rugeley. Whilst they were talking, a Mr. Brassington joined them, and began to speak to Newton about some accounts for Mr. Salt, on which Palmer went back into Hawkins’s shop and asked for six grains of strychnia and two drachms of Batley’s solution of opium.

“Whilst I was preparing them,” said Roberts, “Palmer stood at the shop door with his back to me, looking into the street. I was about five minutes preparing them. He stood at the door till they were ready, when I delivered them to him—the prussic acid in the bottle he had brought, the strychnia in a paper, and the opium in a bottle. He paid, and took them away. No one else was in the shop.”

As soon as Palmer had left, Newton came in, and spoke to Roberts about Palmer’s visit, and no doubt was struck with the information he received. At that time he did not mention to his master Palmer’s purchase of the strychnia because, he said, Palmer and Salt were not friends, and he was afraid that the latter might blame him for having given Palmer the strychnia. “I first mentioned it,” said Newton, “to Boycott, the clerk to Mr. Gardner, the solicitor, at the Rugeley station, when I and a number of witnesses were assembled for the purpose of going to London. He took me to Mr. Gardner’s. I told him what I had to say, and he took me to the solicitor of the Treasury.” Counsel for the defence tried to elicit from him that he had given as his reason for not mentioning it before that he was afraid of being prosecuted for perjury. “No,” he replied; “I did not give that as a reason, but I stated to a gentleman that a young man at Wolverhampton had been threatened by George Palmer because he had said at the inquest on Walter Palmer that he had sold the prisoner prussic acid, and he had not entered it in the book, and could not prove it. I stated at the same time that George Palmer said he could be transported for it. The inquest on Walter Palmer did not take place until five or six weeks after that on Cook.”

Not only, however, did Newton[60] not mention this purchase of strychnia when before the coroner, but he did not state that on the 25th of November he was sent for about seven in the evening to Palmer’s house, where he found the prisoner in his kitchen, sitting by the fire reading.

“He asked me,” he now said, “how I was, and to have some brandy and water. No one else was there. He asked me what was the dose of strychnia to kill a dog. I told him a grain. He asked me what would be the appearance after death. I told him that there would be no inflammation, and that I did not think it could be found. Upon that he snapped his finger and thumb in a quiet way and exclaimed, as if communing with himself, ‘That’s all right.’ He made some other commonplace remark, which I do not recollect. I was with him altogether about five minutes.”

Though he appears to have related the story of the dog at an earlier date, it was not until the Tuesday before the trial that he said a word to anyone about the purchase of the strychnia.

To contradict the evidence of Newton, the inspector of police at the Euston station was called to prove that the last train for Rugeley left at 2P.M., and that if Palmer went by the five o’clock express he would not get to Stafford until 8.45, and would then have nine miles to travel to reach Rugeley. It was, however, remarked by the Attorney-General that Newton’s words were “about nine o’clock,” and “that everyone knows how easy it is to make a mistake of half an hour or three quarters of an hour, or even an hour, if your attention is not called to the circumstances within a week or a fortnight, or three weeks afterwards.” Not content with this evidence, counsel for the defence called one Jeremiah Smith, an attorney, of Rugeley, and intimate friend of the prisoner’s mother, who swore that on the night in question he saw Palmer get out of a car coming in the direction from Stafford at ten minutes past ten, and went with him to Cook’s room. The exhibition made by this fellow in the box was disgusting. For some time he declared that he had never had anything to do with the applications for the enormous insurances on Walter Palmer’s life; would not acknowledge his signature to them as a witness, and only after a most vigorous cross-examination admitted that he witnessed them on the application of the prisoner. He it was who made the application to the Midland Insurance Company for the policy of £10,000 on the life of Bate, the person whom Palmer represented as a gentleman of property with a fine cellar of wine, but whom the insurance agent found hoeing turnips in a field of Palmer’s, and with six months’ rent in arrear for the room in the farm-house which he occupied. The credit of Newton was set up by the desperate attempt of Mr. Jeremiah Smith.[61]

ACTS OF THE PRISONER DURING COOK’S ILLNESS AND AFTER HIS DEATH.

On Thursday, the 15th of November, Cook returned from Shrewsbury with Palmer to the “Talbot,” at Rugeley, complaining of being poorly. It will be remembered that he had been sick at Shrewsbury after partaking of the brandy and water in Palmer’s company. Next day he dined with Palmer, and came back to the inn between nine and ten at night, as the witness Barnes said, sober. Early the next morning (Saturday) Palmer was in his bedroom, and sent for a cup of coffee for him. Mills, who brought it up, did not see him drink it; but when soon after she went into his room she found he had vomited it in the chamber. Palmer was in and out frequently, and promised to send Cook some soup; for this he sent Ann Rowley, a charwoman to the “Albion Inn,” who brought it to Palmer in his kitchen, left it there about five minutes with him, whilst she went about her other work, and then, by Palmer’s orders, took it to the “Talbot,” with a message that Jerry Smith, a mutual friend who had dined with them on the Friday, had sent it.[62] Cook, seeming unwilling to take this, Palmer said he must have it. It was taken up again; Cook drank it, and shortly after vomited. Again, on the Sunday, Palmer sent a jobbing gardener in his employ with a covered cup of broth to the “Talbot,” of which Mills, who took it up to Cook’s room, tasted about two tablespoonsful, and was so sick that she had to go to bed. Whether Cook drank this or not was not distinctly proved, but the cup was afterwards seen empty in the kitchen of the hotel. What followed as to the pills sent by Dr. Bamford, and the others produced by Palmer, is already fully given in Mills’s evidence. Immediately after Cook’s death, Palmer was found by Barnes searching the pockets of Cook’s coat and under his pillow, and the bank-notes which Cook had had only a few days before, his betting-book, which had been seen on his dressing-table, and the letters that had been on his chimney-piece, had disappeared.[63] Previously to this time Palmer had been very short of money, being pressed for small debts, but immediately afterwards was in funds, paying small bills, and depositing £50 in a local bank. On Tuesday evening (20th), when Cook was in such a serious state, Palmer sent for Cheshire, the Rugeley postmaster, and asked him to fill up the body of a cheque on Weatherby for £350 in Palmer’s favour, which he said that he would take over to Cook to sign. That cheque was sent to Weatherby’s that night, and returned by them to Palmer, as Weatherby, not having yet received the stakes Cook had won, was not in funds to meet it. That cheque was called for by the prosecution, but not produced by the prisoner. Again, on the Thursday or Friday after, between six and seven in the evening, Palmer sent for Cheshire. “When I arrived,” said the witness, “I found him in the kitchen, and he immediately went out, and shortly after returned with a quarto sheet of paper in his hand. He gave me a pen, and asked me to sign something. I asked what it was, and he replied, ‘You know that Cook and I have had dealings together, and this is a document he gave me some days ago, and I want you to witness it.’ I said, ‘What is it about?’ He said, ‘Some business that I have joined in with him, and which is all for his benefit, and this is the document stating so.’” Cheshire refused, and Palmer, saying perhaps they would not dispute Cook’s signature, took it away. This document was also called for, and not produced.[64]

On Friday, 23rd, Mr. Stevens, who had married the widow of Cook’s father some years before, and was executor to his grandfather’s will, arrived in Rugeley, saw Palmer, and asked him about his stepson’s affairs. “There are £4000 of his bills out,” said Palmer, “and I am sorry to say my name is to them, but I have got a paper drawn up and signed by him to show that I never had any money from them.” Mr. Stevens expressed great surprise, and said, “I fear there will not be 4000 shillings to pay you.” Then, after discussing his stepson’s affairs, Mr. Stevens said, “Well, whether he has left anything or not, poor fellow, he must be buried,” on which Palmer immediately said, “Oh, I will bury him myself, if that is all.” Mr. Stevens at once refused, and expressed his intention of removing the body to London for interment, so as not to inconvenience the inn people. “Oh,” said Palmer, “that is of no consequence, but the body ought to be fastened up; as long as the body is fastened up, it is of no consequence.” Whilst Mr. Stevens was talking with the persons in the room, Palmer went out, and on his return, when asked by Stevens to recommend an undertaker, said, “I have been and done this. I have ordered a shell and a strong oak coffin.” Mr. Stevens expressed his surprise, and insisted on giving instructions himself to the undertaker.

Later in the day, after dinner, on Mr. Jones reporting to Stevens, who had asked him to go up to Cook’s room for that purpose, that he could not find any betting-book or papers, Palmer said, “Oh, it’s no manner of use if you do find it.” “No use,” replied Stevens, “I am the best judge of that.” Again said Palmer, “It’s of no manner of use.” “I am told it is,” was the reply; “my son won a great deal of money at Shrewsbury, and I ought to know something about it.” “It is of no use, I assure you,” replied Palmer; “when a man dies, his bets are done with; and besides, Cook received the greater part of the money on the course.” “Very well,” replied Stevens, “the book ought to be found, and must be found,” when Palmer said, in a quieter tone, “It will be found, no doubt.” The room was then locked by Mr. Stevens’s order, but the book was never found.

Mr. Stevens returned to London to see his solicitor, and on his way back met Palmer (who had been to London to pay Pratt £100, and caution him against giving any information about Cook’s affairs), and told him his intention of having a post-mortem examination. Apparently agreeing with that, Palmer offered to introduce him to a local solicitor to conduct it, which was declined; but, added Mr. Stevens, “I said, ‘Mr. Palmer, if I should call in a solicitor to give me advice, I suppose you will have no objection to answer any question he may put to you.’ I altered my tone purposely; I looked him steadily in the face, but although the moon was shining, I could not see his features distinctly. He said, with a spasmodic convulsion of the throat, which was perfectly apparent, ‘Oh no, certainly not.’” Later in the evening Palmer came to Mr. Stevens and renewed his conversation about the bills, hoping that affairs would be settled pleasantly, and was told by the stepfather that “they could be only settled in Chancery.” Palmer, at that time, denied that he had attended Cook in a medical capacity.

On the 17th of November, Ishmael Fisher, who was Cook’s usual racing agent, received a letter from Cook requesting him to pay Pratt £200, which he would repay him on the following Monday, when the Shrewsbury bets would be settled at Tattersall’s. Much to his surprise, he was not employed as usual, and in consequence lost the money he had advanced, for on the 19th Mr. George Herring, another betting man, got a letter from Palmer to call on him at the latter’s lodgings, in London, at half-past two that day. He did so.

“I found Palmer there,” said Herring. “He asked me what I would take. I declined to take anything. I then asked him how Mr. Cook was. He said, ‘He’s all right; his physician gave him a dose of calomel, and advised him not to come out, it being a damp day.’ I don’t know which term he used, ‘damp’ or ‘wet.’ He then went on to say, in the same sentence, ‘What I want to see you about is settling his account.’ While he was speaking he took out half a sheet of note paper from his pocket, and it was open when he had finished the sentence. He held it up and said, ‘This is it.’ I rose to take it. He said, ‘You had better take its contents down; this will be a check against you.’ At the same time he pointed to some paper lying on the table. I wrote on that paper from his dictation. I have here the paper which I so wrote. [The witness read the document in question, which contained instructions as to certain payments he should make out of moneys to be received by him at Tattersall’s on account of the Shrewsbury races.] Palmer then said that I had better write out a cheque for Pratt and Padwick—for the former £450, and for the latter £350, and send them at once. I told him I had only one form of cheque in my pocket. He said I could easily fill up a draught on half a sheet of paper. I refused to comply with his request, as I had not as yet received the money. He replied that it would be all right, for that Cook would not deceive me. He wished me particularly to pay Mr. Pratt the £450. His words, as nearly as I can remember them, were, ‘You must pay Pratt, as it is for a bill of sale on the mare.’ I don’t know whether he said ‘a bill of sale,’ or ‘a joint bill of sale.’ He told me he was going to see both Pratt and Padwick, to tell them that I would send on the money. Previous to his saying this, I told him that if he would give me the address of Pratt and Padwick I would call on them, after I had got the money from Tattersall’s, and give it to them. He then asked me what was between us. There were only a few pounds between us, and after we had had some conversation on the point, he took out of his pocket a £50 Bank of England note. He required £29 out of the note, and I was not able to give it; but he said that if I gave him a cheque it would answer as well. I gave him a cheque for £20 and nine sovereigns. When I was going away I do not remember that he said anything about my paying the money to Pratt and Padwick. He said on parting, ‘When you have settled this account write down word to either me or Cook.’ I turned round and said, ‘I shall certainly write to Mr. Cook.’ I said so because I thought I was settling Mr. Cook’s account. He said, ‘It don’t much matter which you write to.’ I said, ‘If I address Mr. Cook, Rugeley, Stafford, it will be correct, will it not?’ He said, ‘Yes.’ After leaving Beaufort Buildings I went to Tattersall’s. I then received all the money I expected, except £110 from Mr. Morris, who paid me £90 instead of £200. I sent from Tattersall’s a cheque for £450 to Mr. Pratt. I posted a letter to Cook from Tattersall’s, and directed it to Rugeley. On Tuesday the 20th, next day, I received a telegraphic message. I have not got it here. I gave it to Captain Hatton at the coroner’s inquest at Rugeley. In consequence of receiving that message I wrote again to Cook that day. I addressed my letter as before, but I believe the letter was not posted till the Wednesday. I have three bills of exchange with me. I know Palmer’s handwriting, but never saw him write. I cannot prove his writing; but I knew Cook’s writing, and I believe the drawing of two and the accepting of the three bills to be in his writing. I got them from Fisher and gave him cash for them.” [The witness Boycott was recalled, and identified the signatures on the bills as those of Palmer and Cook.]

Examination continued.—“The bills are each for £200. One of them was payable in a month, and when it fell due on October 18, Cook paid the £100 on account. He paid me the remaining £100 at Shrewsbury, but I cannot tell with certainty on what day. I did not pay the £350 to Padwick. I hold another bill for £500.” [Thomas Strawbridge, manager of the bank at Rugeley, identified the drawing and endorsing as in the handwriting of Palmer. The acceptance, purporting to be in the writing of Mrs. Sarah Palmer, he did not believe to have been written by her.]

Examination continued.—“I am sure that the endorsement on the £500 bill is in Cook’s writing. I got the bill from Mr. Fisher. I paid £200 on account of it to Palmer, and £275 to Mr. Fisher. The balance was discount. It was not paid at maturity. I have taken proceedings against Palmer to recover the amount.”

On the 26th of November, the post-mortem examination was held, at which Palmer was present, and the incidents of the pushing of the jar containing the contents of the stomach and the cutting of its coverings occurred; and if the evidence of Myatt, the postboy, is to be taken as true, Palmer tried to bribe him to upset the fly in which Mr. Stevens and his solicitor’s clerk were to take the jar to the Stafford station, en route to London,

James Myatt, examined by Mr. James.—“In November last I was postboy at the ‘Talbot Arms,’ Rugeley. I know Palmer, the prisoner, and I remember Monday, the 26th of November last. I was ordered on that night, a little after five o’clock, to take Mr. Stevens to the Stafford station in a fly. Before I started I went home to get my tea, and on returning from my tea to the ‘Talbot Arms’ I met the prisoner. He asked me if I was going to drive Mr. Stevens to Stafford. I told him I was.”

Question.—“What did he say to you then?”

Answer.—“He asked me if I would upset them.”

Question.—“Them? Had anything been said about a jar?”

Answer.—“He said he supposed I was going to take the jar.”

Question.—“What did you say then?”

Answer.—“I said I believed I was.”

Question.—“What did he say after that?”

Answer.—“He said—‘Do you think you could upset them?’”

Question.—“What answer did you make?”

Answer.—“I told him ‘No.’”

Question.—“Did he say anything more?”

Answer.—“He said—‘If you could, there’s a £10 note for you.’”

Question.—“What did you say to that?”

Answer.—“I told him I could not. I then said, ‘I must go, the horses are in the fly ready for us to start.’ I do not recollect that he said anything more about the jar. I said, that if I didn’t go somebody else would go. He told me not to be in a hurry, for if anybody else went he would pay me. I saw him again next morning, when I was going to breakfast. He asked me then who went with the fly. I told him Mr. Stevens, and, I believed, one of Mr. Gardner’s clerks.”

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee.—“Were not the words that Palmer used—‘I wouldn’t mind giving £10 to break Stevens’s neck?’”

Answer.—“I don’t recollect the words ‘break his neck.’”

Question.—“Well, ‘upset him.’ Did he say, ‘I wouldn’t mind giving £10 to upset him?’”

Answer.—“Yes; I believe those were the words. I do not know that Palmer appeared to have been drinking. I don’t recollect that he had. I can’t say that he used any epithet, applied to Stevens—he said it was a humbugging concern altogether, or something of that. I don’t recollect that he said Stevens was a troublesome fellow, and very inquisitive. I don’t remember anything more than I have said. I do not know whether there was more than one jar.”

Whilst the analysis of the contents of the jar was being conducted in London, the coroner opened an inquest at Rugeley. Palmer, now fully aware of his danger, determined to use his influence over the postmaster to get the earliest information of the results of the analysis, and to make a friend of Ward, the coroner. With the latter object, he sent a hamper of fish and game to the coroner from London on the 1st of December, writing the direction himself, but not otherwise letting Ward know from whom they came, which he professed to wish to be kept secret. To Cheshire, the postmaster, with whom he had long been on very friendly terms, receiving from him his mother’s and Cook’s letters, on the 2nd of December he hinted the importance of his knowing anything that might pass through the post between Dr. Taylor and the local solicitor. In consequence, on the Wednesday following, he is told by Cheshire the substance of the letter, already quoted, written by the analyst to Mr. Gardner on the previous day. On this Palmer, on the 8th, writes to a poulterer at Stafford to have some game ready for his messenger, and sends Bate over for it, to take it, with the following note, to the coroner:—

“My dear Sir,—I am sorry to tell you that I am still confined to my bed. I don’t think it was mentioned at the inquest yesterday that Cook was taken ill on Sunday and Monday night, in the same way as he was on the Tuesday, when he died. The chambermaid at the ‘Crown’ Hotel (Masters’s) can prove this. I also believe that a man by the name of Fisher is coming down to prove he received some money at Shrewsbury. Now, here he could only pay Smith £10 out of £41 he owed him. Had you not better call Smith to prove this? And, again, whatever Professor Taylor may say to-morrow, he wrote from London last Tuesday night to Gardner to say, ‘We (and Dr. Rees) have this day finished our analysis, and find no traces of either strychnia, prussic acid, or opium.’ What can beat this from a man like Taylor, if he says what he has already said, and Dr. Harlands’s evidence? Mind you, I know and saw it in black and white what Taylor said to Gardner; but this is strictly private and confidential, but it is true. As regards his betting-book, I know nothing of it, and it is of no good to anyone. I hope the verdict to-morrow will be that he died of natural causes, and thus end it.

“Ever yours, “W. P.”

Bate goes to the poulterer, re-directs, and sends the game by a lad, and then finds his way to the inn, where the coroner is smoking, calls him out of the billiard-room, and privately gives him the letter.

On the 14th of December the adjourned inquest is to be held, and Dr. Taylor’s evidence taken. On the previous day, therefore, Bate is again summoned by Palmer, and sent to borrow a £5 note of Thirlby, and on his return, Palmer being still ill in bed, is told by him to look in a drawer for another, but can only find one for £50. At this juncture the sheriff’s officer arrives to arrest him on one of the overdue bills, Bate is sent out of the room, and on his return commissioned to take a note to the coroner, and to be sure that no one sees him deliver it. This he succeeds in doing between the “station” and the “Junction Hotel,” where he slips it slily into Ward’s hand. Not liking all this secrecy, Bate had hesitated at accepting the mission, and asked that some one else should be sent, when Palmer replied, “Why, George, as to this poor fellow Cook, he was the best pal I ever had in my life; and why should I have poisoned him?” and then added, “I am as innocent as you, George.” The inquest proceeded, and in addition to the evidence of the symptoms attendant on Cook’s death, Dr. Taylor gave his, and Roberts proved the purchase of strychnia only a day before Cook’s death. Palmer was summoned, but professed to be too ill to come, and on the next day a verdict of wilful murder against him was returned, and a warrant issued for his transfer to Stafford jail. After a few days’ detention in his own house, Palmer was conveyed to jail, in such a state of despondency that he appears to have determined to starve himself to death, and would probably have done so, but for the threat of compulsory measures by the Governor. Soon afterwards all his property was seized under a bill of sale and sold, his racehorses alone realising four thousand guineas.[65]

THE DEFENCE.

Of Mr. Serjeant Shee’s address to the jury in the defence of the prisoner, which occupied, without wearying, the attention of the Court during eight hours on the seventh day, only a brief analysis can be given. The main points on which he insisted were—First, the erroneous nature of the medico-scientific evidence in referring the symptoms exhibited in Cook’s case to tetanus from strychnia, on which he was prepared to contradict it by witnesses of equal character and credit in the profession. Secondly, the probability, amounting as near as possible to a certainty, that if the death had been occasioned by strychnia, the presence of that poison should have been detected by the analysts. Thirdly, the similarity of the symptoms in the case to those of cases of traumatic or idiopathic tetanus of late occurrence, to be described by the doctors who had attended them. As the mass of evidence by which he sought to support these propositions has been already reported, it is needless to recur to it. We may therefore pass on to the moral evidence, only pausing to extract the noble passage descriptive of the mechanism of the human frame, with which he introduced the former subject, and his picture of Cook’s state of mind from before his victory at Shrewsbury until his death.

“‘A little learning is a dangerous thing.’

“It appears to me there never was a case in which the adage was so applicable as it is in this. Of all the works of God, the one best calculated to fill us with wonder and admiration, and convince us of our dependence on our Maker, and the utter nothingness of ourselves, is the mortal coil in which we live, and breathe, and think, and have our being. Every minute of our lives, functions are performed at our will, the unerring accuracy of which nothing but omniscience and omnipotence could have secured. We feel and see exactly what takes place, and yet the moment we attempt to explain what takes place, the instant we endeavour to get a reason for what we know, and see, and do, the mystery of creation—‘God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he them’—arrests our course, and we are flung back on conjecture and doubt. We know in a sense—we suppose—that the soft medullary substance which is within the cavity of the head is the seat of thought, of sensation, and of will. We know that that soft medullary substance is continued down the middle of the back, protected by a bony duct or canal, within which it lies embedded, and we know that from the sides of that bony duct and from this medullary substance proceed an infinite variety of nerves (the conduits of sensation from all parts of the body to the soul) and of muscles connected and dependent on them, the instruments of voluntary motion. This we know; and we know that by that process all the ordinary actions of ourselves, at our will, are effected with the most wonderful precision. Sometimes, however, these nerves and muscles depart from their normal character, and instead of being the mere instruments of the soul, become irregular, convulsive, tumultuary, vindicating to themselves a sort of independent vitality, totally regardless of the authority to which they are ordinarily subject. When thrown into this state of excitement, their effects are known by the general name of convulsions. It is remarkable, unlike most other fine names, they are not of modern adaptation. The ancients had them to express the very same thing. The spasmodic and tetanic affections were known then, and as much about them hundreds and thousands of years ago as is known now. Tetanic convulsions have been divided in later times into two specific branches of tetanus—idiopathic and traumatic.”

In opening the portion of his case that Cook’s death was attributable to causes other than strychnia, Serjeant Shee adroitly concealed the names of the diseases to which his witnesses were prepared to attribute it. Until, therefore, his cloud of witnesses had been passed through, the prosecution did not know, except from the cross-examination of their own medico-scientific witnesses, to what technical points they had to shape their reply.

In support of his contention that Cook’s death could be fairly attributed to ordinary convulsions, the learned Serjeant gave the following graphic sketch of the state of his mind at the period of Shrewsbury races, and from then to his death:—

“He went there in the imminent peril of returning from them a ruined man. His stepfather assured Palmer that there would not be 4000 shillings for those who had claims on his estate. From the necessity he was under of raising money at an enormous discount we may easily infer that he was in desperate difficulties, and that unless some sudden success on the turf should retrieve his fortunes, they were hopeless. His health was shattered, his mind distracted; he had long been cherishing hopes that Polestar would win, and so put him in possession of something like a thousand guineas. The mare, it was true, was hardly his own, for she had been mortgaged; and if she should lose, she would become the property of another person. Picture to yourselves what must have been the condition, mental and bodily, of that young man when he rose from his bed on the morning of the races. It is scarcely possible, as he went down to breakfast, that this thought must not have crossed his mind, ‘My fate is trembling in the balance; this is the crisis of my destiny. Unless my horse shall win, to-night I am a beggar.’ With these feelings he repairs to the course. Another race is run before Polestar is brought out. His impatience is extreme. He looks on in a state of agonising excitement. Will the minutes never fly? At last arrives the decisive moment; the time has come for his race. The flag is dropped; the horses start; his mare wins easily, and he, her master, has won a thousand guineas! For three minutes he is not able to speak, so intense is his emotion. Slowly he recovers his utterance, and then how rapturous is his joy! He is saved, he is saved! Another chance to retrieve his position—one chance more to recover his character! As yet, at all events, he will not be a disgrace to his family and his friends. Conceive him to be, with all his faults, an honourable young man, and you may easily imagine what his ecstasy must have been. He loves the memory of his dead mother—he still reverences the name of his father—he is jealous of his sister’s honour, and it may be that he cherishes silently in his heart the thought of some other being dearer still than all to whom the story of his ruin would bring bitter anguish. But he is not ruined; he will meet his engagements like an honourable man. There is now no danger of his being an outcast, an adventurer, a black-leg. He will live to redeem his position, and to give joy to those who love him. With such thoughts in his heart, he returns to his inn in a state of indescribable elation, and with a revulsion from despair that must have convulsed—though not in the sense of illness—every fibre of his frame. His first idea is to entertain his friends, and he does so. The evidence does not prove that he drank to excess, but he gave a champagne dinner; and we all know that is a luxurious entertainment, at which there is no stint and not much self-respect. That evening he did not spend in the society of Palmer; indeed, it is not clear in whose company he spent it. But we find him on the evening of Wednesday at the ‘Unicorn’ with Saunders, his trainer, and a lady. On Thursday he walks upon the course, and Herring remonstrates with him for doing so, as the day is damp and misty, and the ground wet. That night he is seized with illness, and he continues ailing until his death at Rugeley. Arrived at Rugeley, it is but natural to suppose that a reaction of feeling may have set in. Then the dark side of the picture may have presented itself to his imagination. The chilling thought may have come upon him that his winnings were already forestalled and would scarcely suffice to save him from destruction. It is when suffering from a weakened body, and an irritated and excited mind, that he is attacked by a sickness which clings to his system, leaves him without any rest, incapacitates him from taking food, distracts his nerves, and places him in imminent danger of falling a victim to any sudden attack of convulsions to which he may have a predisposition. He relished no society so much as that of Palmer, whose residence was immediately opposite the ‘Talbot Arms’ Inn, where he was lying on his sick bed. For two days he had been taking opiate pills prescribed by Dr. Bamford. On Sunday night, at twelve o’clock, he started as from a dream in a state of the utmost excitement and alarm. He admitted afterwards that for two minutes he was mad, but he could not ascribe it to anything unless to his having been awakened by a squabble in the street. But do no such things happen to people of sound constitutions and regular habits? Do no such people awaken in agony and delirium because there is a noise under their windows? No; these are the afflictions of the dissipated and anxious, whose bodies are shattered and whose minds are distracted. Next day, Monday, he was pretty well, but not so well as to mount his horse or to take a walk in the fields. He could converse with his trainer and jockey, but he could take no substantial food, and drank not a drop of brandy-and-water. You will bear in mind that Palmer was not with him that day. In the middle of the night he was seized with an attack similar in character to that of the night preceding, but manifestly much milder, for he retained his consciousness throughout it, and was not mad for a moment. The evidence of Elizabeth Mills is conclusive on the point. At three o’clock on the following day (Tuesday) Mr. Jones, the surgeon of Lutterworth, arrived, and spent a considerable time—probably from three to seven o’clock—in his company. They had abundant opportunity for conversing confidentially, and they were likely to have done so, for they were very intimate, and Jones appears to have been on more familiar terms with Cook than was any other person, not even excepting Mr. Stevens. Nothing occurred in the entire and unbounded confidence which must have existed between Mr. Cook and Mr. Jones, to raise any suspicions in the mind of Mr. Jones; and at the consultation, which took place between seven and eight o’clock on Tuesday evening between Jones, Palmer, and Bamford, as to what the medicine for that evening should be, the fit of the Monday night was not mentioned. That is a remarkable fact. The Crown may say that it is remarkable, inasmuch as Palmer knew it, and said not a word about it; but I think that it shows that the fit was so little serious in the opinion of Cook that he did not think it worth mentioning to his intimate friend.”

In dealing with the “moral evidence,” counsel first attacked the motive imputed by the prosecution, and sought to show from the correspondence, as well as from the conduct of the parties, that at the moment when Palmer was charged with killing Cook, he was his best and indeed the only friend whom he could look to to assist him in his severe financial troubles.

“Was it,” he said, “to his interest that in the second week in November Cook should be killed, say by a railway accident? For some time they had been mixed up together in racing transactions, had made heavy losses during the late sporting season, and Cook at least—and most probably Palmer, as associated with him—was looking forward to the success of Polestar to save them from ruin. At that time Pratt, the bill discounter, was pressing for an extra £200 to stave off legal proceedings on the £2000 bill, to which his mother’s name had been forged. To whom does Palmer apply? To Cook, who at once writes to his betting agent Fisher to advance and pay that to Pratt on the Saturday before the Monday’s settlement at Tattersall’s of the Shrewsbury winnings. Fisher having done this, was it not probable that Cook arranged with Palmer, that in order to get the use of this £200 for a few days, Herring, and not Fisher, should be authorised to collect the winnings and secure a sufficient payment to Pratt to stave off the action?” [Cook’s letter of the 19th of November was accordingly cited as a proof of his anxiety to assist Palmer.] “Again, there was in Herring’s hands a bill of Palmer’s for £500, bearing his mother’s forged acceptance. Was it likely that with this danger staring him in the face, Palmer would kill the only man from whom he could look for money? The transaction as to the bill for £500, secured on Cook’s racehorses, discounted by Pratt, for which, as Pratt wrote him at once, Palmer would have to provide, was another reason for not killing his only friend.”

In September Palmer had negotiated this bill with Pratt professedly for Cook’s benefit, and had received from Pratt a crossed cheque to Cook’s order for £385, and a wine warrant for £65, and at the same time, on his own account, £315 in cash, and the imputation by the Crown was that he forged Cook’s endorsement and took the money. The improbability of his doing this, as Cook was certain, had he done so, to have complained of it during the months that elapsed between the giving of the bill of sale on his horses and his death, was urged by Mr. Shee, who ventured to offer as an explanation the suggestion that as Cook wanted cash on that day, Palmer gave him his £315, and with his consent endorsed Cook’s name on the cheque and paid that to his own account. Again he dealt with the circumstance of Cook’s cheque for £350, the body of which was drawn by Cheshire, and, as Palmer said, taken by him on the 20th November to Cook for him to sign in his sick room. That cheque, it will be remembered, was not produced, but

“Weatherby, on whom it was drawn,” said Serjeant Shee, “was under the impression that the signature was Cook’s.[66] As it was not certain that Frail would have sent up to Weatherby the stakes against which it was drawn by the Monday, was it likely that, had Palmer meditated Cook’s death at the time, he would have risked its being returned—as it was—and passing into the hands of Cook’s executors, who would be certain to enquire into the matter, on Cook’s sudden death? From the enquiries that had been instituted as to his brother’s life policy, he knew himself to be an object of suspicion, and, if any foul play happened to Cook, all hope of recovering that would be gone. ‘Their refusal,’ wrote Pratt to him, ‘altered the whole state of affairs, and Palmer must be prepared to pay his mother’s acceptances for £4,000 due at the end of the month.’ There was the pinch; the office would not pay; the £4,000 was becoming due; the holder of the bills saw that he was without security, and, if anything occurred to increase the suspicions of the insurance office, which was very reluctant to pay, the £13,000 was lost for ever, lost beyond hope. Gentlemen, that £13,000 is sure to be paid, unless this man is convicted of murder; and that has a great deal to do with the clamour and alarm which have been excited. So sure as that man is saved, and saved I believe he will be, that £13,000 is paid. There is no defence, no pretence for a defence—the letters of the office make that plain. They took an enormous premium; knowing that the man was only 30, they took a premium for a man of 50—at least, the letters show that the premium was enormous—and I say that, as sure as this man is saved, that £13,000 is good for him, and will pay his creditors. Do not these facts show that in this October suspicions were hanging in menacing meteors about Palmer’s head, which would come down with irresistible momentum and crush him upon suspicion of a sudden death by murder? Do you believe that a man who wrote what the effects of strychnia were in his manual would risk such a scene as a death-bed by it, in the presence of the dearest and best friend of Cook—a man whom he could not influence; a medical man, who liked him and loved him well enough when he knew he was ill to sleep in the same room with him, that he might be able to attend to him in case he wanted assistance during the night? Is that common sense? Are you going to endorse such a theory as that upon the suggestion of Dr. Taylor about the effects of strychnia produced upon his five rabbits? Impossible! perfectly impossible! as I submit to you. So sure as anything happened by foul play to Cook, he had no more chance of getting the £13,000 than the £180,000 from the Prince of Wales Insurance Office—none whatever. That was the only means he had at that time of extricating himself from these encumbrances.”

Again, he tried to depreciate the evidence of Mills as to the symptoms of Cook’s attacks, on the ground—not, indeed, that she had been tampered with by the prosecution—because then, he said, he was certain that she would not have been called—but “that she had been instructed in the various symptoms by the repeated private examinations to which she had been subjected,” dwelling on the omission from her evidence before the coroner that she had been so violently sick after tasting the broth, and on the other discrepancies in, and omissions from, her description of the symptoms when there, and when in court.

“Upon all occasions,” said the learned counsel, “I am most reluctant to attack a witness who is examined on his or her oath, and particularly if he be in a humble position of life. I am very reluctant to impute perjury to such a person; and I think that a man who has been as long in the profession as I have been must be put a little to his wits’ end when he rushes upon the assumption that a person whose statements have, after a considerable lapse of time, materially varied, is, therefore, necessarily, deliberately perjured. The truth is, we know perfectly well, that if a considerable interval of time occurs between the first story and the second, and if the intelligent and respectable persons who are anxious to investigate the truth, but who have still a strong moral conviction—upon imperfect information—of the guilt of the accused person, will talk to witnesses and say, ‘Was there anything of this kind?’ or, ‘Anything of that kind?’ the witnesses at last catch hold of the phrase or term which has so often been used to them, and having in that way adopted it, they fancy they may tell it in court.”

He also attacked the conduct of Mr. Stevens, the stepfather, for, as he said, “goading and irritating Palmer into incautious expressions, by insinuating that he had stolen a trumpery betting-book that could not be of use to anyone;” and attributed Palmer’s anxiety to nominate a local solicitor to manage affairs to the nature of the pecuniary transactions, so much relying on honour, making them far more easy of adjustment by a friendly than by a hostile agent. As for Myatt, the postboy’s, story of the bribe for upsetting the fly, he attributed that to a personal feeling against the “meddlesome old gentleman,” as he called Stevens, and not to any idea of destroying the probable proofs of his delinquency. His marked attention to Cook during his illness he attributed to the interest he necessarily felt in his life, and the sending of broth and other things from his own house to the wish to save expense at a time when neither of them were too well off. “Would he,” said Serjeant Shee, “dream of sending poisoned broth to an inn, where it was sure to be tasted by the cook?”

In addition to the scientific witnesses which he would call to rebut those of the prosecution’s, he would prove that Cook, previously to the Shrewsbury meeting, was suffering severely from a syphilitic state of throat, and applying to Palmer for remedies for it—that Palmer could not have been in Rugeley at the time at which Newton swore that he sold the strychnia to him, and that the incident at the “Raven,” at Shrewsbury, of the brandy-and-water was a fiction. To what this evidence of previous illness amounted, and how the two witnesses who were to negative Newton and disprove the scene at the “Raven” fared when put in the box, will be seen in the report of their examination.[67] Great stress was of course laid on Palmer’s not only calling in Dr. Bamford, but sending for Mr. Jones, Cook’s firmest friend, to witness what proved his last day of life, and on the improbability of Palmer tampering with the medicines under such professional supervision.

“Is it conceivable that if Palmer meant to slay Cook with poison in the dead of night, he would previously have insured the presence in his victim’s chamber of a medical witness, who would know from his frightful symptoms that the man was not dying a natural death? He brings a medical man into his room, and makes him lie within a few inches of the sick man’s bed, that he may be startled with his terriffic shrieks, and gaze on those agonizing convulsions which indicate the fatal potency of the poison. Can you believe it? He might have dispatched him by means that defy detection, for Cook was taking morphia medicinally, and a grain or two more would have silently thrown him into an eternal sleep;[68] but instead of this he sends to Lutterworth for Jones. You have been told that this was done to cover appearances. Done to cover appearances! No, no, no! You cannot believe it. It is not in human nature. It cannot be true. You cannot find him guilty. You dare not find him guilty on the supposition of its truth. The country will not stand by you if you believe it to be true. You will be impeached before the whole world if you say that it is true. I believe in my conscience it is false, because, consistently with the laws that govern human nature, it cannot be true.”

“The incident of his being found searching the clothes and under the pillow,” said counsel, “ought not to be looked upon as suspicious, as Mills, who came into the room at the time, thought no suspicion of it, and there was nothing but the evidence of a kind and considerate character in his having ordered the shell and the coffin; nor was it possible to torture into a presumption of guilt the few words of irritation which may have fallen from him in the course of a conversation in which Mr. Stevens treated him with scorn, not to say with insolence.” And then, alluding to the entry as to the effects of strychnia in one of his medical books, the learned Serjeant turned it most adroitly to his own purpose, as the basis of a peroration so telling in its language and perfect in its construction that it must be preserved intact.

“The Crown had, no doubt, originally intended to rely upon the prisoner’s medical books as affording damning proof of his guilt; but I will refer to those volumes for evidences that will speak eloquently in his favour. In youth and early manhood there is no such protection for a man as the society of an innocent and virtuous woman to whom he is sincerely attached. If you find a young man devoted to such a woman, loving her dearly, and marrying her for the love he bears her, you may depend upon it that he is a man of humane and gentle nature, little prone to deeds of violence. To such a woman was Palmer attached in his youth, and I will bring you proof positive to show that the volumes cited against him were the books he used when a student, and that the manuscript passages are in the handwriting of his wife. His was a marriage of the heart. He loved that young and virtuous woman with a pure and generous affection; he loved her as he now loves her first-born, who awaits with trembling anxiety the verdict that will restore him to the arms of his father, or drive that father to an ignominious death upon the scaffold.” [The prisoner here covered his face with his hands and shed tears.] “Here in this book I have conclusive evidence of the kind of man that Palmer was seven years ago. I find in its pages the copy of a letter addressed by him while still a student to the woman whom he afterwards made his wife. It is as follows:—

“‘My dearest Annie,—I snatch a moment from my studies to your dear, dear little self. I need scarcely say that the principal inducement I have to work is the desire of getting my studies finished, so as to be able to press your dear little form in my arms. With best, best love, believe me, dearest Annie,

‘Your own William.’

“Now this is not the sort of letter that is generally read in courts of justice. It was no part of my instructions to read that letter, but the book was put in to prove that this man is a wicked, heartless, savage desperado; and I show you what he was seven years ago—that he was a man who loved a young woman for her own sake—loved her with a pure and virtuous affection—such an affection as would, in almost all natures, be a certain antidote against guilt. Such is the man whom it has been my duty to defend upon this occasion, and upon the evidence that is before you I cannot believe him to be guilty. Don’t suppose, gentlemen, that he is unsupported in this dreadful trial by his family and his friends. An aged mother, who may have disapproved of some part of his conduct, awaits with trembling anxiety your verdict; a dear sister can scarcely support herself under the suspense which now presses upon her; a brave and gallant brother stands by him to defend him, and spares neither time nor trouble to save him from an awful doom. I call upon you, gentlemen, to raise your minds to a capacity to estimate the high duty which you have to perform. You have to stem the torrent of prejudice; you have to vindicate the honour and character of your country; you have, with firmness and courage, to do your duty, and to find a verdict for the Crown if you believe that guilt is proved; but, if you have a doubt upon that point, depend upon it that the time will come when the innocence of that man will be made apparent, and when you will deeply regret any want of due and calm consideration of the case which it has been my duty to lay before you.”

THE REPLY.

The greater part of the tenth day was occupied with the reply of the Attorney-General, dealing in the first part with the medico-scientific evidence brought forward for the defence, and contrasting it with that on the part of the prosecution, and in the latter part pressing home with all his force of criticism and power of language the suspicious acts of the prisoner before and after the death of Cook. Between idiopathic and traumatic tetanus he drew the distinction, “supported,” as he said, “by the evidence of men who had seen, not here and there a stray case, but numerous instances of that disease, that the former was a disease of days, and even weeks, and not of hours or minutes.” He pointed out that such were really the symptoms in the cases adduced for the defence, and ridiculed the notion that the old ulcers of the spring of the year, with which Dr. Savage had dealt successfully, could be assigned as the causes of this form of disease in Cook’s case, and then criticised seriatim the other forms of convulsive disease to which the witnesses for the defence attributed it. After referring to the statements of Dr. Savage and Mr. Stevens as to the state of Cook’s health prior to his departure for Shrewsbury races, he thus dealt with the evidences of his state of health offered by the prisoner’s witnesses:—

“It is said that at some former time he had exhibited his throat to some of the witnesses that were called, and had applied to Palmer for mercurial wash to apply to it, or to some of the ulcers. The precise period is not fixed, but it is perfectly clear that, though at one time he had adopted that course, under the recommendation of Dr. Savage he had got rid of it, and there is not the slightest pretence for saying that this man was suffering under a syphilitic affection of any kind; that fact was negatived distinctly and unequivocally by a man of the highest authority, a medical gentleman of eminence, under whose treatment the man got so rapidly well. It is a pretence, gentlemen, which has not the shadow of a foundation, and which I should be shrinking from my duty if I did not denounce as altogether unworthy of your consideration. There was nothing about the man, according to the statement of those who were competent to give you an opinion, which would warrant, for a single moment, the supposition that there was anything in any part of his body which could justify the notion of traumatic tetanus. Even if there were, the character which his symptoms assumed when the tetanus set in, is utterly incompatible, according to the evidence of all the witnesses, with a case of traumatic tetanus.”

Then, after pointing out how the two cases of this disease put forward by the defence were cases of days and hours, and, not like Cook’s, of minutes, he proceeded to deal with the suggestion of idiopathic tetanus.

“Idiopathic tetanus? Proceeding from what? They say that Mr. Cook was a man of a delicate constitution, subject to excitement; that he had something the matter with his chest; that, in addition, he had this diseased condition of his throat, and, putting all these things together, they say, that if he took cold, he might get ‘idiopathic tetanus.’ We are launched into a sea of speculation and impossibilities. Mr. Nunneley, who came forward for the purpose of inducing you to believe this, goes through a bead-roll of the supposed infirmities of Mr. Cook; talks about his exciteability, about his delicacy of chest, about the affection of his throat, goes through these various heads, and says that these things may have predisposed him to ‘idiopathic tetanus,’ if he took cold. What evidence is there that he ever did take cold? Not the slightest in the world. From beginning to end he was never treated for cold by anybody, and never complained of it to anyone. I cannot help saying that to me it seems a scandal upon a learned, distinguished, and liberal profession, that men should put forward such speculations as these, perverting facts, and drawing from them sophistical and unwarrantable conclusions with the view of deceiving a jury. I have the greatest respect for science, no man can have more; but I cannot repress my indignation and abhorrence when I see it thus perverted and prostituted to the purposes of a particular cause in a court of justice. Do not talk to me about excitement, as Mr. Nunneley did the other day, being the cause of idiopathic tetanus. You remember the sort of excitement he spoke of, they are unworthy of your notice, and they were topics discreditable to be put forward by a witness as worthy of the attention of sensible men constituting such a tribunal as you are.”

Again, on Mr. Nunneley’s suggestion that it might be a case of general convulsions accompanied by tetanic symptoms, said the Attorney-General.—

“Well, but pause a moment, Mr. Nunneley; have you ever seen one single case in which death arising from general convulsions, accompanied by tetanic symptoms, has not ended in the unconsciousness of the patient before death? ‘No, I never knew such a case—not one. But in some book or other I am told that there is such a case reported;’ and he cites one, not for that purpose, I think, but with reference, to general convulsions being sometimes accompanied by tetanic symptoms and ending in death, from a very eminent author of the present day, Dr. Copland. Dr. Copland is living and Dr. Copland might have been called—was not called, notwithstanding the challenge which I threw out. Why? Because it is infinitely better in such a case to call together from the east and west practitioners of more or less obscurity, instead of bringing to bear upon the subject the light of science which is treasured in the breasts of the eminent practitioners with which this city abounds.”

Again, on Mr. Partridge’s evidence of the probable effect of the granules on the spinal marrow,

“I called his attention,” he said, “to what had evidently not been done before, namely, the symptoms of Mr. Cook’s case, and asked him in simple, straightforward terms whether, looking at these, he would pledge his opinion, in the face of the medical world and the Court, that this was a case of arachnitis, and he candidly admitted that he would not assert it.”

Against Dr. Macdonald’s epileptic convulsions with tetanic complications, he cited the following from that gentleman’s cross-examination:—

“Did you ever know a case of epilepsy, with or without tetanic complications, in which consciousness was not destroyed before the patient died? He said ‘No, I cannot say I ever did, but I have read in some book that such a case occurred.’ Is there anything to make you think this was epilepsy? ‘Well, it may have been epilepsy, because I do not know what else to ascribe it to, but I must admit that epilepsy is characterised generally by unconsciousness.’ Well, then, what difference would tetanic complications make? That he is unable to explain.”

With the final suggestion of Angina pectoris, he could not deal so minutely as with the four preceding ones.

“The gentleman,” he said, “who was called at the last moment would not have escaped quite so easily if I had had the books to which he referred under my hand, and been able to expose, as I would have done, the ignorance or presumption of the assertion he dared to make. I say ignorance or presumption; or, what is worse, an intention to deceive. I assert it in the face of the whole medical profession, and I am satisfied I shall have a verdict in my favour.”

He then concluded this part of his speech by calling attention to the fact, that three of the witnesses for the prisoner, Mr. Partridge, Dr. Robinson, and even Dr. Letheby, strongly as he was biased for the defence, agreed with Sir B. Brodie and the other medical witnesses for the Crown, that, “in the whole of their experience, learning, and information, they knew of no known disease to which the symptoms of Mr. Cook could possibly be referred—a fact the importance of which it was impossible to exaggerate.”