Chapter VI · (continued 2)

CONDUCT AND STATEMENTS OF THE PRISONER AFTER L’ANGELIER’S DEATH.

In her declaration Miss Smith stated that she heard of L’Angelier’s death on the afternoon of Monday, the 23rd. On the Wednesday evening she was out at a party, and at eight o’clock the next morning she had left the house. In consequence Mr. Minnoch, and a brother of the prisoner, thinking apparently that she had gone to her father’s country house, took the rail to Greenock, and the steamer thence to Row, on board which they found her a little after two in the afternoon. She said she was going to Rowaleyn, and they went on with her, and from thence brought her to Glasgow in a carriage. “When we met her on the steamboat,” said Mr. Minnoch, “I asked her why she had left her house and her friends in such distress at her absence. She made no reply. I requested her not to do so among so many people. I renewed my inquiry afterwards at Rowaleyn. She said she felt distressed that her parents should be so much annoyed at what she had done.” The suggestion on the part of the prosecution was, that from conscious guilt she was fleeing from justice—on the part of the prisoner, that she was fleeing from the shame of an exposure of her love passages with L’Angelier. “But,” said the learned judge, “my opinion is, that having made a statement already about getting arsenic for the gardener to kill rats, and knowing that if it had been discovered that he got no arsenic for such a purpose, unpleasant consequences might follow, she wished to see him, in order to make an arrangement by which that statement might be borne out. The steamer in which she went only sailed from Helensburgh to Gairloch and back, and therefore escape by it was nearly impossible; and, in point of fact, he did not believe she had any intention of attempting it.”

Previously, however, to this unexplained flight from home, she had been visited by the French consul, a mutual friend of the lovers, to whose searching questions in the presence of her mother she gave most decided answers. As this witness’s evidence was greatly relied on by counsel for the prisoner, it is reported in full.

M. Auguste Vauvert de Meau, the French Consul at Glasgow, who had known L’Angelier for three years, was acquainted with the prisoner’s family, and aware from L’Angelier’s own statements of the correspondence between the lovers, gave the following evidence:—

“I remember L’Angelier coming to my office a few weeks before his death and speaking about Miss Smith. I said she was to be married to some gentleman, and when I mentioned the public rumour, he said it was not true, but, if it was, he had documents in his possession that would be sufficient to forbid the banns. I did not see her after that time. I thought that, having been received by Mr. Smith in his house, I was not at liberty to speak to him; but after L’Angelier’s death I thought it was my duty to mention the fact of the correspondence having been carried on between them, in order that he might take steps to exonerate his daughter in case of anything coming out. In the evening of the death of L’Angelier, I called on Mr. Smith and told him that L’Angelier had in his possession a great number of letters from his daughter, and that it was high time to let him know this, that they might not fall into the hands of strangers, numbers of people might go to his lodgings and read them. I went to Mr. Huggins’s office (L’Angelier’s employer). He was not in, but I saw two gentlemen, and told them what I had been told to ask (to get back the letters); but they said that they could not give them up without Mr. Huggins’s consent, and I then asked them to keep the letters sealed up till they were disposed of. I think this was on the Tuesday after L’Angelier’s death. Shortly after I saw Mr. Smith. In consequence of rumours I went to his house and saw Miss Smith in the presence of her mother. I apprised her of the death of L’Angelier. She asked me if it was of my own will that I came to tell her; I told her it was not so, but at the special request of her father. I asked her if she had seen L’Angelier on the Sunday night; she told me that she did not see him. I asked her to put me in a position to contradict the statements which were being made as to her relation with L’Angelier, and asked her again if she did not see him on Sunday evening or Sunday night, and she told me she did not. I observed to her that L’Angelier had come from the Bridge of Allan to Glasgow on a special appointment with her, by a letter written to him. She told me she was not aware that he was at the Bridge of Allan before he came to Glasgow, and that she did not give him an appointment for Sunday evening, as she wrote him on Friday evening giving him an appointment for Saturday: she had expected him on the Saturday, but he did not come, and she had not seen him on Sunday. I put the question to her five or six times in different ways. I told her that my conviction was that she must have seen him on Sunday, that he had come on purpose to Glasgow on a special invitation by her to see her; and I did not think it likely, admitting that he had committed suicide, that he had done so without knowing why she had asked him to come to Glasgow.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“Did you know of this letter yourself?”

Witness.—“I heard there was such a letter. I said to her that the best advice that a friend could give to her under the circumstances was to tell the truth about it, because the case was a very grave one, and would lead to an inquiry on the part of the authorities, and that if she did not say the truth in these circumstances, perhaps it would be ascertained by a servant, or a policeman, or somebody passing the house who had seen L’Angelier, that he had been in the house, and this would cause a strong suspicion as to the motive that had led her to conceal the truth. Miss Smith then got up from her chair and said, ‘I swear to you, Mr. Meau, that I have not seen L’Angelier not on that Sunday only, but not for three weeks or six weeks,’ I am not sure which.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“And the mother was present?”

Witness.—“Yes. I repeated this question five or six times, but her answer was always the same. I asked her with regard to the letter inviting L’Angelier to come and see her, how it was that, being engaged to another gentleman, she could have carried on a clandestine correspondence with a former sweetheart? she said it was to get back her letters.”

The Lord Advocate.—“Did you ask her whether she was in the habit of meeting L’Angelier?”

Witness.—“Yes. I asked her if it was true that L’Angelier was in the habit of having appointments with her in her house; and she told me that he had never entered that house, meaning the Blythswood Square house, as I understood.[119] I asked her how, then, she had her appointments to meet him? She told me that he used to come to a street at the corner of the house (main street), that he had a signal by knocking with his stick, and that she used to talk to him.”

The Lord Advocate.—“Did she speak about her former correspondence with him at all?”

Witness.—“I asked her if it was true she had signed letters in his name, and she said she had done so.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“Do you mean that she added his name to hers?”

Witness.—“I meant whether she signed her letters with L’Angelier’s name, and she said ‘Yes.’ I did not ask her why.”

Cross-examined by Mr. Young.—“I went to live at Helensburgh in 1845. M. L’Angelier visited me, and once he came on a Saturday to my lodgings there, and on Sunday we went on the Luss Road. I went up to my room, and L’Angelier not coming in for his dinner, I called for him out of temper. I then found that he was ill, and was vomiting down the staircase. He once complained to me of being bilious. This was a year ago. He complained of once having the cholera. Last year he came to my office and told me he had had a violent attack of cholera, but I don’t know whether that was a year or two years ago. I think it was a journey he was to have made that led him to speak of having had the cholera. I don’t recollect whether he was unwell at that time. I know that when he came to my house he always had a bottle of laudanum in his bag, but I don’t know if he used it. I once heard him speak of arsenic; it must have been in the winter of 1854. It was on a Sunday. I don’t recollect how the conversation arose, but it lasted half an hour. Its purport was how much arsenic a person could take without its injuring him. He maintained that it was possible to do it, by taking small quantities. I don’t know what led to the conversation, and should be afraid to make any statement as to the purpose for which it was to be taken. L’Angelier stated to me he had once been jilted by an English lady, a rich person, and that on account of the deception he was almost mad for a fortnight, and ran about, getting food from a farmer in the country. He was easily excited: when he had any cause of grief he was affected very much.”

By the Lord Justice Clerk.—“After my marriage I had little intercourse with L’Angelier. I thought that he might be led to take some harsh steps with Miss Smith, and as I had some young ladies in my house, I did not think it was proper to have the same intercourse with him as when I was a bachelor.”

The Lord Advocate.—“What do you mean by ‘harsh steps?’”

Witness.—“I was afraid of an elopement. By ‘harsh’ I mean ‘rash.’ This was after L’Angelier had given me his full confidence as to what he would do if her father did not consent to the marriage.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“ Did you understand that Miss Smith had engaged herself to him?”

Witness.—“I understood so from what he said.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“When you used the expression ‘you thought it right to go to Mr. Smith about the letters, in order that he might take steps to vindicate his daughter’s honour, or prevent it from being disparaged,’ did you relate to him her engagement and apparent breach of it? Had you in view that the letters might contain an engagement which she was breaking, or that she had made a clandestine engagement?”

Witness.—“I thought that these letters were love letters, and that it would be much better that they should be in Mr. Smith’s hands than in those of strangers.”

The Lord Advocate.—“ What were L’Angelier’s usual character and habits?”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“Was he a steady fellow?”

Witness.—“My opinion of L’Angelier’s character at the moment of his death was, that he was a most regular young man in his conduct, religious, and in fact most exemplary in all his conduct. The only objection which I heard made to him was that he was vain and a boaster—boasting of grand persons that he knew. For example, when he spoke of Miss Smith, he would say, I shall forbid Madeline to do such a thing, or such another thing—to dance with such a one or such another.”

The Lord Justice Cleric.—“Did he boast of any success with females?”

Witness.—“Never.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“Did he seem jealous of Miss Smith paying attention to others?”

Witness.—“No; of others paying attention to her.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“It was not on account of any levity in his character that you discouraged him visiting you after your marriage?”

Witness.—“No. I thought his society might be fit for a bachelor, but not for a married man.”

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“Do you understand the word ‘levity’?”

Witness.—“Yes; lightness, irregularity. There had been a long cessation of intercourse between us before his death. The photograph (shown him) is a good likeness; he was between 28 and 30 years of age. I think I got accidentally acquainted with him in a house in Glasgow.”

At the close of the case for the prosecution the Lord Advocate proposed to put in certain entries in a pocket book of L’Angelier’s to support the first and second counts of the indictment, which, after argument, was refused by the Court. (See Appendix C., p. 359.)

THE DEFENCE.

In accordance with practice of the Scotch Courts the counsel for the prisoner had the last word; and good use did the Dean of Faculty make of his privilege. The Lord Advocate’s policy had been to depict the character of the prisoner in the vilest colours—as the seducer, rather than the seduced, or, at any rate, for a long period the willing accomplice in all his acts. The Dean dealt not less hardly with the character of L’Angelier.

“We find him,” he said, “according to the confession of all those who observed him narrowly, vain, conceited, pretentious, with a great opinion of his own personal attractions, and a very silly expectation of admiration from the other sex. That he was successful to a certain extent in conciliating such admiration may be the fact; but, at all events, his own prevailing ideas seem to have been that he was calculated to be very successful in paying attention to ladies, and that he was likely to push his fortune by such means. Accordingly, once and again we find him engaged in attempts to get married to women of some station at least in society. We heard of one disappointment which he met with in England, and another we heard a great deal of connected with a lady in Fife; and the manner in which he bore his disappointments on those two occasions is perhaps the best indication and light we have to the true character of the man. He was not a person of strong health, and it is extremely probable that this, among other things, had a depressing effect on his spirits, rendering him changeable and uncertain—now uplifted, as one of the witnesses said, and now most deeply depressed—of a mercurial temperament, as another described it, very variable and never to be depended upon. Such was the individual with whom the prisoner unfortunately became acquainted. The progress of their acquaintance is soon told. My learned friend the Lord Advocate said the correspondence must have been improper, because it was clandestine: yet the letters of the young lady at that first period breathe nothing but gentleness and propriety. The correspondence in the commencement shows that if L’Angelier had in his mind originally to corrupt and seduce the prisoner, he entered upon the attempt with considerable ingenuity and skill; for the very first letter of the series which we have contains a passage in which she says, ‘I am trying to break myself of all my bad habits: it is you I have to thank for this, which I do sincerely from my heart.’ He had been suggesting to her improvement in conduct or something else. He had thus been insinuating himself into her company. She had yielded, no doubt, too easily to the pleasures of this new acquaintance, but pleasures apparently of a most innocent kind at this period. Yet it seems to have occurred to her mind at a very early period that it was impossible to maintain this correspondence with propriety or her own welfare; for so early as April 1855 she wrote him—‘I think you will agree with me in what I intend proposing, that for the present this correspondence had better stop. I know your good feeling will not take this wrong. It was meant quite the reverse. By continuing it, harm may arise, by discontinuing, nothing can be said.’ And from then to September it did cease.”

Unfortunately the correspondence was renewed, discovered, and stopped by her father until April, 1856, when it is re-opened by a letter, of the 30th of that month, from Helensburgh, in which she writes:—“P(papa) has not been in town a night for some time; but the first night he is off I shall see you. We shall spend an hour of bliss. There shall be no risk: only C. H. (Haggart) shall know.” This letter was followed by that of the 3rd of May, inviting him on Tuesday, the 6th, to come to the garden gate, and adding, “Beloved of my soul, a fond embrace, a dear kiss till we meet! We shall have more than one, love, dearest.” Signed, “From thy ever devoted and loving wife, thine for ever, Mini.”

“Alas,” said the Dean, “the next scene is the most painful of all. In the spring of 1856, the corrupting influence of the seducer was successful, and the prisoner fell. This is recorded in a letter bearing the post-mark of the 7th of May, which you have heard read. And how corrupting that influence must have been, how vile the acts that he resorted to for accomplishing his nefarious purpose, can never be proved so well as by looking at the altered tone and language of the unhappy prisoner’s letters. She had lost not her virtue merely, but, as the Lord Advocate said, her sense of decency. Think you that without temptation, without evil teachings, a poor girl falls into such depths of degradation? No. Influence from without—most corrupting influence—can alone account for such a fact. And yet through the midst of this frightful correspondence, there breathes a spirit of devoted affection towards the man that had destroyed her—that strikes me as most remarkable.”

Then, after alluding to the precautions with which she sought to surround her interviews with L’Angelier at the Blythswood Square house; to the evident proofs that an elopement was projected, and to the strong probability that no interview took place without Haggart’s connivance, and that, therefore, the interviews at this time must be limited to the two spoken of by that witness, he urged that up to the month of February, 1857, he was entitled to say, “without a shadow of evidence to the contrary, that they were not in the habit of coming into personal contact.”

“We now,” continued the Dean, “come to a very important stage of the case. On the 28th of February Mr. Minnoch proposes, and if I understand the theory of my learned friend’s case aright, from that day the whole character of the girl’s mind and her feelings changed, and she set herself to prepare for the perpetration of what he has called one of the most foul, cool, deliberate murders that ever was committed. I will not say that such a thing is impossible, but I will venture to say it is very highly improbable. He will be a bold man to fathom the depths of human depravity, but this at least experience teaches us, that perfection even in depravity, is not rapidly attained, and it is not by such short and easy stages as the prosecutor has been able to trace in the career of Madeline Smith, that a gentle loving girl passes all at once into the savage grandeur of a Medea, or the appalling wickedness of a Borgia. Such a thing is not possible. There is a certain progress in guilt, and it is quite out of all human experience that, from the tone of the letters, there should be a sudden transition—I will not say from affection for a particular object—but to the strange desire for removing, by any means, the obstruction to her wishes and purposes that the prosecutor imputes to the prisoner. Think, in your own minds, how foul and unnatural a murder it is—the murder of one who, within a very short space, was the object of her love—an unworthy object—an unholy object; but yet while it lasted—and its endurance was not very brief—it was a deep, unselfish, absorbing, devoted passion. And the object of that passion she now conceived the purpose of murdering. Such is the theory that you are desired to believe. Now before you will believe it, will you not ask for demonstration? Will you be content with conjecture? Will you be content with suspicion, however pregnant, or will you be so unreasonable as to put it to me in this form, that the man having died of poison, the theory of the prosecution is the most probable? Oh, gentlemen, is that the manner in which a jury should treat such a case? Is that the kind of proof on which they should convict on a capital offence?”

The Dean, then, took up seriatim the three charges, examining the evidence on each in detail, making on each the criticisms, already reported in the previous summary of the evidence, showing how the first charge had failed even in the opinion of the prosecutor: how doubtful, to say the least, it was that the interview on which the second charge was based had taken place, and the weakness of many of the proofs on which the charge of murder was rested. Passing, then, to the suggestion of suicide, he continued—

“I might stop here, for nothing could be more fallacious than the suggestion of the Lord Advocate, that it was necessary to explain how this man came by his death. His lordship will tell you that a defendant has no further duty than to repel the charge and stand on the defensive, and maintain that the case for the prosecution is not proved. No man probably can tell at the present moment—I believe no man on earth can tell—how L’Angelier met his death. Nor am I under the slightest obligation even to suggest to you a possible manner in which that death may have been compassed without the intervention of the prisoner. Yet it is but fair, when we are dealing with so many matters of conjecture and suspicion, that we should, for a moment, consider whether that supposition on which the charge is founded is preferable in itself, in respect to its higher probabilities, to other suppositions which may be fairly made. The character of this man, his origin, his early history, the nature of his conversation, the numerous occasions on which he spoke of suicide, naturally suggest that as one mode by which he may have departed this life. Understand me, I am not undertaking to prove that he died by his own hand—but I think there is more to be said for suicide than for the prisoner’s guilt. But I entreat you to remember that that is no necessary part of my defence. But of course I should be using you very ill—should be doing less than my duty to the prisoner—if I had not brought before you the whole of that evidence which suggests the extreme probability of that man dying by his own hand at one time or other. From the very first time at which we see him, even as a lad, in the year 1843, he talks in a manner to impress people with the notion that he had no moral principle to guide him. He speaks over and over again of suicide at Edinburgh, Dundee, and elsewhere—ay, the prisoners letters shew that he had made the same threat to her[120]—that he would put himself out of existence. And is it half as violent a supposition as the supposition of this foul murder, that upon this evening—the 22nd of March—a fit of that kind of madness which he himself described, came over him, when he met with disappointment—finding, it may be, that he could not procure access to an interview which he desired—assuming that he came to Glasgow for that purpose—assuming even that he mistook the evening of the meeting, and expected to see her on the Sunday—can anything be more probable than that, in the excited state in which he then was, he should have committed the rash act which put an end to his existence.”[121]

Again, in answer to the motive imputed by the prosecution; re-reading the letter of the 10th of February, in which on her bended knees Miss Smith besought him, “as he hoped for mercy at the judgment, not to inform on her—not to expose her;” asked him “to pardon her if he could; to pray for her as the most wretched, guilty, miserable creature on the earth;” told him “she could stand anything but her father’s hot temper;” when she wrote, “Emile, you will not cause my death. If he is to get your letters, I cannot see him any more; and my poor mother, I will never kiss her. It would be a shame to them all. Emile, will you not spare me? Hate me, despise me, but do not expose me.” The Dean said—

“Is that the language of deceit? Is that the mind of a murderess, or can any one affect that frame of mind? Can you for one moment listen to the suggestion that that letter covers a piece of deceit? No, no. The finest actress could not have written that to him, unless she had felt it; and is that the condition in which a woman goes about to compass the death of him whom she has loved? Is that the frame of mind?—shame for past sins, burning shame, dread of exposure, grief at the injury she had done her parents? Is that the frame of mind that would lead a woman—not to advance another step on the road to destruction, but to plunge at once into the depths of human wickedness? The thing is preposterous, and yet it is because of her despair, as my learned friend called it, exhibited in that and similar letters, that he says she had a motive to destroy this man. What does that mean? It may mean, in a certain improper sense of the term, that it would have been of advantage to her that he should cease to live. That is not a motive in any proper sense of the term. If some advantage resulting from the death of another be a motive to the commission of murder, a man’s eldest son must always have a motive to murder him that he may succeed to his estate; and I suppose the youngest officer in any regiment of Her Majesty’s army has a motive to murder all the officers in his regiment—the younger he is, and the further he has to ascend the scale, the more murders he has a motive to commit. Away with such nonsense! A motive to commit a crime must be something a great deal more than the mere fact that the result of that crime might be advantageous to the person committing it. You must see the motive in action—you must see it influencing the conduct—before you can deal with it as a motive; for this, and this only, is it a motive in the proper sense of the term—that is to say, it is moving to the perpetration of the deed. But let me ask you what possible motive there could be, even in the most improper and illegitimate sense of the term—I mean what possible advantage could she expect from L’Angelier’s death so long as the letters remained? Without the return of her letters she gained nothing. Her object, her greatest desire, that for which she was yearning with her whole soul, was to prevent the exposure of her shame. But the death of L’Angelier, with those letters in his possession, instead of insuring that object, would have been perfectly certain to lead to the immediate exposure of everything that passed between them. Shall I be told that she did not foresee that? I think my learned friend had been giving the prisoner credit for too much talent in the course of his observations on her conduct. But I should conceive her to be infinitely stupid if she could not foresee that the death of L’Angelier, with those documents in his possession, was the true and best means of frustrating the then great object of her life. Shall I be told that the motive might be revenge? Listen to the letter, Tell me if it is possible that in the same breast with these sentiments, there should link one feeling of revenge! No; the condition of mind in which the poor girl was throughout the months of February and March, is entirely inconsistent with any of the hypotheses that have been made on the other side—utterly incredible and wholly irreconcileable with the perpetration of such a crime as is here laid to her charge.”[122]

Passing on, then, to the incident of her sudden flight from her home, when she heard of L’Angelier’s death, the Dean repudiated the notion that she was absconding from justice. She had left Glasgow early in the morning, and at half-past three in the afternoon was found on board a steamer going from Greenock to Helensburgh. Any one going by rail could easily have overtaken her.

“If her flight means anything,” he said, “it means flying from what she could not bear—the wrath of her father, and the averted countenance of her mother. But she came back again without the slightest hesitation, and upon the Monday morning there occurred a scene as remarkable in the history of criminal jurisprudence as anything I ever heard of, by which that broken spirit was altogether changed. The moment she was met by a charge of being implicated in causing the death of L’Angelier, she at once assumed the courage of a heroine. She was bowed down, and she had fled, while the true charge of her unchastity and shame was all that was brought against her; but she stood erect and proudly conscious of her innocence when she was met with this astounding charge of murder. You heard the account that M. de Meau gave of that interview with her in her father’s house on the Monday. That was a most striking statement, and given with a truthfulness obviously that could not be surpassed. What was the import of that conversation? He advised her, as a friend, if L’Angelier was with her on that Sunday night, for God’s sake not to deny it. And why? Because, he said, it is certain to be proved. A servant, a policeman, a casual passenger, is certain to know the fact, and if you falsely deny it, what a fact that will be against you. What was the answer? In answer to five or six suggestions of M. de Meau, she said at length that she would swear that she had not seen him for three weeks. If she did not see him on the Sunday that was true.”

On the purchases of arsenic, the Dean called the attention of the jury to the improbability of her having purchased it at the time when she was urging L’Angelier not to go to the Bridge of Allan whilst she was there with her family, and to her throwing it away on the 17th of March, and then buying more on the 18th;—“throwing it away, it was said, when just coming within reach of her victim, and then buying more, with circumstances of openness and publicity inconsistent with the hypothesis of any legitimate object? Why expose herself to the necessity of a repeated purchase, when she had got enough to poison twenty or a hundred men.”

“But,” continued the Dean, “the possession of this arsenic is said to be unaccounted for, as far as the prisoner is concerned. It might be so; it may be so; and yet that would not make out the case for the prosecution. She says she used it as a cosmetic. This might be startling at first sight to many of us here, but after the evidence you have heard it will not amaze you. At school her story, which has so far been borne out by evidence, shows that she read of the Styrian peasants using it for strengthening their wind, improving their complexions. No doubt they used it internally, and not externally as she did, but in the imperfect state of her knowledge that was a fact of no significance. L’Angelier, too, was well aware of the same fact. He stated to more than one witness—and if he stated falsely, it is only one of a multitude of lies proved against him—that he used it himself. It is not surprising if L’Angelier knew of this custom that he should have communicated it to the prisoner, and that she should have used it externally, for an internal use is apparently a greater danger, which may have suggested to her to try it externally, and there is no reason to suppose, that if used as she used it, it would produce any injurious effects. No doubt we have medical men coming here and shaking their heads and looking wise, and saying that such a use of arsenic would be a dangerous procedure. That is not the question. The question is whether the prisoner could use it without injurious effects, and that she could do so is proved by the experiments of Dr. Laurie and Dr. Maclagan. The publication in Chambers’s, Blackwood’s Magazine, and Johnston’s “Chemistry of Common Life,” of information on the uses of arsenic, had reached not the prisoner alone, but a multitude of other ladies, and had incited them to the same kind of experiments. The two druggists—Robertson and Guthrie—spoke to the fact of ladies having come to their shops seeking arsenic for such purposes on the suggestion of these publications. It cannot, therefore, be surprising to you to learn that when the prisoner bought this arsenic, she intended to use it, and did actually, afterwards, use it for this purpose.”[123]

Then, citing the behaviour of Eliza Fenning, in the well-known disputed, and even now disputed case, as a parallel instance of such behaviour as the prisoner showed when taxed with the charge of murder:[124] repudiating the doctrine that juries have nothing to do with the consequences of their verdict, and that all questions of evidence must be weighed in the same scale, whether the crime be capital, or a mere case of pocket picking, and appealing to the jury not to raise their rash and imprudent hands to tear away the veil Providence has been pleased to place over this mystery, the Dean closed his most effective speech.

THE JUDGE’S CHARGE.

The most material comments of the Lord Justice Clerk have been already so fully quoted as notes to the several portions of the evidence, or to the points made by the counsel for the defence, that it will now suffice to give his concluding summary of the case.

“The first charge is that she administered arsenic on the 19th or 20th of February. Probably you may come to the conclusion, on the evidence of Miss Perry and others, that he did see her on that occasion; but she was not proved to have had arsenic or any other poison in her possession; and what I attach very great importance to is, that there is no medical testimony, by analysis of the matter vomited, that that illness did proceed from the administration of arsenic. If the doctor had examined the vomit and proved that there was arsenic there, I am afraid the case would have been very strong against her as having given him coffee or something before his illness on that occasion. But it is not proved that that illness arose from the administration of poison. Arsenic she had not, and there is no proof of her having possessed anything deleterious. Therefore I have no hesitation in telling you that charge has failed.

“The second charge stands in a somewhat different position in regard to the evidence, although in one respect it is similar to the first, for it is not proved that the illness arose from the administration of arsenic or any other poisonous substance. But then the way in which you can connect the prisoner with a meeting on that occasion is much stronger. Still if you should think you can acquit her of the first charge, and that there is too much doubt to prove the second proven, then you will observe how much this weakens the case that has been raised by the prosecution on the motives for revenge, on the change in the tone of the letters, and the desire to allure him again to her embraces and fascinations, which could not be accounted for except on the supposition of some such murderous design. In that view undoubtedly the foundation of the case is very much shaken, and will not lead you to suppose that the purpose of murder was cherished on the 22nd.

“Then as to the charge for murder, the question for you to consider is a simple one. No matter how the prisoner is surrounded with grave suspicions, and with many circumstances that seem to militate against the notion of innocence upon any theory that has been propounded, still are you prepared to say that the interview of the 22nd March has been proved against her? She had arsenic before the illness of 22nd February, and I think you will consider the excuse of using arsenic as a cosmetic of the same stamp as those which she stated to the druggists. She bought arsenic again on the 6th of March, and it certainly is a very odd thing that she should buy more arsenic when she came back on the 18th. Because unless you are to take the account to be sure, that she used it as a cosmetic, she has it before the 22nd, and that is a dreadful fact if you are quite satisfied that she did not get it and use it for the purpose of washing her hands and face. It may create the greatest reluctance in your mind to take any other view of the matter than that she was guilty of administering it somehow, though the place where may not be made out, or the precise time of the interview. But on the other hand you must keep in view, that arsenic could only be administered by her if an interview took place with L’Angelier, and that interview, though it may be the result of an inference that may satisfy you morally that it did take place, still rests upon an inference alone, and that inference is to be the ground, and must be the ground, on which a verdict of guilty is to rest. You will see, therefore, the necessity of great caution and jealousy in dealing with any inference which you may draw from this. Probably none of you may think for a moment that he did go out that night, and that without seeing her, and without knowing what she wanted to see him about, if they met, he may have swallowed 200 grains of arsenic on the street, and may have carried it about. On the other hand, if he did not commit suicide, keep in view that that will not of itself establish that the prisoner administered the arsenic. The matter may have remained most mysterious—wholly unexplained. You may not be able to account for it on any other supposition, but still that supposition or inference may not be a ground on which you can safely and satisfactorily rest your verdict against the prisoner.

“Now then I leave you to consider the case with reference to the views that are raised by this correspondence. I do not think you will consider it so unlikely as was supposed that this girl, after writing such letters, may have been capable of cherishing such a purpose. But still, though you may take such a view of her character, it is but a supposition that she cherished this murderous purpose—the last conclusion that you ought to come to merely on supposition and inference and observation on this wavering correspondence of a girl in the circumstances in which she was placed. It receives more importance, no doubt, when you find the purchase of arsenic just before she expected, or just at the time that she expected L’Angelier. But still these are but suppositions. Now the great and invaluable use of a jury after they direct their attention seriously to the case with the attention you have done, is to separate firmly—firmly and clearly in your own minds—suspicions from evidence. I don’t say that inferences may not be completely drawn, but I have already warned you about inferences in the ordinary matters of civil life, and in such a case as this.[125] If you cannot say, ‘We satisfactorily find here evidence of the meeting, and that the poison must have been administered by her at that meeting,’ whatever may be your suspicion, however perplexing may be the probability against her, and however you may have to struggle to get rid of it, you perform your best and bounden duty as a jury to separate suspicion from truth, and to proceed upon nothing that you do not feel established in evidence against her.”

After retiring for half an hour, the jury by a majority in each charge found the prisoner Not Guilty on the first, and a verdict of Not Proven on the second and third charges, in which findings the Lord Justice Clerk expressed his entire concurrence.

APPENDIX A., p. 307.

POST-MORTEM EXAMINATIONS.

Evidence of Dr. Hugh Thomson, M.D.

“At the request of Messrs. W. B. Huggins & Co., of this city, we, the undersigned, made a post-mortem examination of the body of the late M. L’Angelier, when the appearances were as follows:—The body, viewed externally, presented nothing remarkable, except a tawny hue on the surface. The incision made on opening the belly and chest revealed a considerable deposit of subcutaneous fat. The heart appeared large for the individual, but not so large as, in our opinion, to amount to disease. Its surface presented, externally, some opaque patches, such as are frequently seen on the organ without giving rise to symptoms. Its right cavities were filled with dark fluid blood. The lungs, the liver, and the spleen appeared quite healthy. The gall-bladder was moderately full of bile, and contained no calculi. The stomach and the intestines, externally, presented nothing abnormal. Being tied at both ends, it was removed from the body. Its contents, consisting of about half a pint of dark fluid resembling coffee, were poured into a clean bottle, and the organ itself was laid open along its great curvature. The mucous membrane, except for a slight extent of the lesser curvature, was then seen to be deeply injected with blood, presenting an appearance of dark red mottling, and its substance was remarked to be salt (soft?), and easily torn by scratching with the finger-nail. The other organs of the abdomen were not examined. The appearance of the mucous membrane, taken in connection with the history as related to us by witnesses, being such as, in our opinion, justified a suspicion of death having resulted from poison, we considered it proper to preserve the stomach and its contents in a sealed bottle for further investigation by chemical analysis, should such be determined on. We, however, do not imply that, in our opinion, death may not have resulted from natural causes, as, for example, severe internal congestion, the effect of exposure to cold after much bodily fatigue, which we understand the deceased to have undergone. Having no legal authority for making this post-mortem examination, we restrict it to the organs where we thought likely to find something to account for the death.

“28th March, 1857, on soul and conscience,

“Hugh Thomson, “James Steven.”

SECOND POST-MORTEM OF THE EXHUMED BODY,

April 3, 1857.

“By virtue of a warrant from the sheriff of Lanarkshire, we, the undersigned, proceeded to the post-mortem examination of the body of M. L’Angelier within the vault of the Ramshorn church on the 31st of March ultimo, in the presence of two friends of the deceased. The body being removed from the coffin, two of our number, Drs. Thomson and Steven, who examined the body on the 24th ultimo, remarked that the features had lost their former pinched appearance, and that the general surface of the skin, instead of the tawny or dingy hue observed by them on that occasion, had become rather florid. We two likewise remarked that, with the exception of the upper surface of the liver, which had assumed a purplish colour, all the internal parts were little changed in appearance; and we all agreed that the evidences of putrefaction were much less marked than they usually are at such a date—the ninth day after death, and the fifth after burial. The duodenum, along with the upper part of the small intestine, after both ends of the gut had been secured by ligatures, was removed and placed in a clean jar. A portion of the large intestine, consisting of part of the descending colon and the sigmoid flexure, along with a portion of the rectum, after using the like precaution of placing ligatures at both ends of the bowel, was removed and placed in the same jar with the duodenum, and a portion of the small intestine. A portion of the liver, about a one-sixth part of that organ, was cut off and placed in a clean jar. We then proceeded to open the head in the usual manner, and observed nothing calling for remark beyond a greater degree of vascularity of the membranes of the brain than ordinary. A portion of the brain was removed and placed in a fourth clean jar. We then adjourned to Dr. Penny’s rooms, taking with us the vessels containing the parts of the viscera above mentioned. The duodenum and portion of small intestine were found together to measure thirty-six inches in length. Their contents poured into a clean glass measure were found to amount to four fluid ounces, and consisted of a turbid, sanguinolent fluid, having suspended in it much flocculent matter, which settled towards the bottom, whilst a few mucus-like masses floated on the surface. The mucous membrane of this part of the bowels was then examined. The colour was decidedly redder than natural, and this redness was more marked over several patches, portions of which, when carefully examined, were found to be eroded. Several small whitish and somewhat gritty particles were removed from its surface, and being placed on a clean piece of glass, were delivered to Dr. Penny. A few small ulcers, about the one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter, and having elevated edges, were observed on it, at the upper part of the duodenum. On account of the failing light, it was determined to adjourn till a quarter past eleven next day—all the jars, &c., being left in the custody of Dr. Penny. Having again met at the appointed time, we proceeded to complete our examination. The portion of the largest intestine, along with the portion of the rectum, measuring twenty-six inches in length, being laid open, was found empty. Its mucous membrane, coated with an abundant, pale, slimy mucus, presented nothing abnormal, except on the part lining the rectum, on which were observed two vascular patches, about the size of a shilling. On decanting the contents of the glass measure, we observed a number of crystals adhering to its interior, and at the bottom a notable quantity of whitish sedimentary matter. Having now completed our examination of the various parts, we finally handed them all to Dr. Penny.

“The above we attest on soul and conscience,

“H. Thomson. “J. Steven.”

APPENDIX B., p. 319.

ON THE QUANTITY OF POISON FOUND IN THE STOMACH OF A PERSON MURDERED BY ARSENIC.

Extract from Letter from Professor Christison to the Edinburgh Medical Journal, December, 1857.

“The purpose of the present brief communication is to state a case which annihilates the defence of the prisoner, so far as the large quantity of arsenic found in the stomach of the deceased may have been thought to support it.

“Dr. Mackinlay, of Paisley, very lately reminded me of a case of poisoning with arsenic, in which we were both concerned in 1842. A person came under a charge of poisoning with arsenic, and was indicted. But, on account of some informality, this indictment fell to the ground, and the trial was necessarily delayed. Meanwhile, during the delay, the general evidence was thought defective, and the trial was dropped. There could be no doubt, however, that murder had been committed. The arsenic was administered in whisky-punch with sugar, the arsenic being kept in suspension by constant stirring. The person survived at least five, possibly seven, hours, and frequently vomited a yellowish or greenish liquid. Nevertheless, I found a little spirit in the contents of the stomach; and I collected thirty grains of arsenic in substance from the stomach and its contents.

“Drs. Mackinlay and Wylie, of Paisley, who examined the dead body, and also discovered arsenic in the stomach, had scraped off a quantity of the powder of this substance from the inside upon a watch-glass. I was not made aware at the time how much had been thus obtained; but Dr. Mackinlay now informs me that the quantity was sixty grains. Here, then, is a case exactly like that of L’Angelier. Ninety grains of arsenic, and this in substance, were found within the stomach alone. If to this be added, as in Dr. Penny’s analysis in L’Angelier’s case, the probable arsenic dissolved and suspended in the contents of the stomach, and that imbibed by the textures of the stomach itself, it is impossible to estimate the total quantity in the stomach at less than 100 grains. But there was also arsenic in the intestines; and, indeed, it had actually caused purging.

“How large a quantity, then, must have been given in that instance! How strangely easy is it for a determined designing murderer to administer secretly those large quantities of a substance, whose weight should render it difficult to be mixed, and whose roughness should betray its presence when abundant! How difficult for the stomach to discharge it by vomiting. I draw no conclusion as to the question of Madeline Smith’s innocence or guilt. In common with the public at large, I am well satisfied that she escaped condemnation. But, as I have been supplied, through the kindness of Dr. Mackinlay, with the means of completing a fact, closely touching a ground of defence, which, at the time it was brought forward, I regarded as hypothetical and baseless, and which may be made much of again, were it allowed to stand, as it has hitherto done, I have thought it my duty to make the true state of the question known.”

APPENDIX C., p. 342.

L’ANGELIER’S DIARY.

At the close of the fifth day, after putting in the bulk of the letters, the Lord Advocate proposed to read entries in L’Angelier’s pocket-book from the 16th of February to the 14th of March, 1857, in support of the first and second charges. They were undoubtedly in his own handwriting, and statements of what he did on those days. It was objected that the book was not regularly kept, that the corroborative evidence was not sufficient, and that two of the entries were contradicted by witnesses who had been examined. The Court took time to consider, and on the next morning delivered the following judgments.

The Lord Justice Clerk.—“The admission of hearsay evidence was an established rule in the law of Scotland, but under those restrictions and conditions, which went in many circumstances to its entire rejection. What was now proposed to be admitted was this—certain memoranda or jottings made by the deceased, in which certain things were said to be contained, which went directly to the vital part of this charge. The Dean of Faculty felt so strongly that he did not scruple to state what the purport of one of these was, in order to show the immense materiality of the point. It was certainly most important for the Court to take care that the rules of evidence were not relaxed merely because it appeared that the matter tendered was of the highest importance to the case. Before evidence could be received and allowed to go to a jury, it must be shown that such evidence was legally competent to be tendered against the prisoner. That was the rule also in civil cases. It was of vital importance in considering whether this evidence was admissible, to ascertain in what circumstances, and, if possible, from what motive, and at what periods these entries were made. Now it was a most remarkable fact that there was no entry regarding the prisoner, or the circumstances connected with her, before the 14th of February; and at that very time the purpose on her part of breaking off the engagement with him and of demanding her letters back had been communicated to the deceased; and his purpose and resolution not to give up the letters and to keep her to her engagement were avowed and made known, as it appeared from evidence prior to that date. Then he had a purpose in writing these memoranda—a purpose obviously to strengthen his hold over the prisoner, not only by refusing to give up the letters at that time and afterwards, but probably with the view to hold out that he had a diary as to their interviews and communications, so as to endeavour to effect his object of preventing the marriage, and of terrifying her into giving up her engagement with Mr. Minnoch. He (the Lord Justice Clerk) made this observation not merely with regard to the weight and credibility of these entries, but with regard to their admissibility; because in the case of hearsay evidence one could ascertain from the witnesses the time the statement was made, all the circumstances and all the apparent motives which could be collected as to the statement being made by the deceased. But when we could not know with certainty the motive with which the man made the entry, or, perhaps, as in this case, could perceive reasons why he made the entry as against her, intending to prejudice her in one way, not of course with reference to such a trial as this, but with reference to her engagement, he thought it could not be said that this came before the Court as a statement recorded by him as to indifferent matters, or as to matters in which he might have not had a strong purpose in making the statement. Further, it might be a record of a past act. He felt the force of what the Lord Advocate had said, that supposing in this book there had been an entry that this man purchased arsenic, would not that have been available in favour of the prisoner. An illustration of this point had been suggested to him by a person whose authority and experience were of the very highest. Take an action of divorce against the wife where the paramour was dead; would an entry in any diary of his that he had enjoyed the embraces of this woman on such a night in the absence of her husband be proof against the wife? He thought not. What was proposed in this case was to tender in evidence a thing altogether unprecedented, according to the research of the Bar and the Bench, of which no trace or indication occurred in any book whatever, viz., that a memorandum made by the deceased should be proof of the fact against the panel in a charge of murder. He was unable to admit such evidence; it might relax the sacred rules of evidence to an extent that the mind could hardly contemplate. One could not tell how many documents might exist and be found in the repositories of deceased persons; a man might have threatened another, he might have hatred against him, and be determined to revenge himself, and what entries might he not make in a diary for this purpose? He had a faint recollection of a case in 1808—the trial of a man Patch for murdering Page, or of Page for murdering Patch—in which some letter of the murdered man, prior to his death, was used; but he had been unable to find the case, and he had no notion if it was of the character he had alluded to. However, in the meantime, as the point was perfectly new, and as it would be a departure from what he considered to be an important principle in the administration of justice, he thought this evidence could not be received.”

Lord Handyside.—“The special point is, whether the entries of certain dates—two in number—are to be read and made evidence for the prosecution, as regards the first and second charges in the indictment. The whole of these entries have been written with a lead pencil. I notice this to make the observation that ink and penmanship afford to a certain degree a means of ascertaining whether entries are made de die in diem, thus having the character of entries made daily; or, on the contrary, of several entries having the appearance, by change of ink or of pen, of being made at one time, and so after recollection. Where all the entries are in pencil, there can be no security as to the time when the entries are, in point of fact, inserted, and that they are not ex post facto; or that the original entries have been expunged, and others substituted in their place—whether this be a correction of memory, or with purpose and design of another character. The party making such entries in pencil has entire power over what he has done or chooses to do.” Then alluding to the fact that no authority for such evidence could be found, which entitled the objector to the evidence to throw on the tenderer the burden of showing that it ought to be received, the learned judge continued—“I think the question one of great difficulty—at least I have found it so. Had the writer of the memorandum been living, they could not have been made evidence—of themselves they were nothing. They might have been used in the witness-box to refresh the memory, but the evidence would still be parole. What would be regarded would be the oath of the witness to the facts, time and person; and if distinct and explicit, though resting on memory alone, the law of evidence would be satisfied, irrespective of any aid by memorandums and letters, though made at the same time. It is the oath of the witness to the verity of his oral statement in the box which the law requires and regards. But if the writer has died, is this circumstance to make such memorandums thenceforward admissible as evidence by their own weight? Are they, the handwriting being proved, to be treated as written evidence? That would be a bold proposition. Death cannot change the character originally impressed on the memorandums, and convert them from inadmissible to admissible writings. They are private memorandums, seen by no eye but the writers as such, subject to no check upon the accuracy of their statements, whether arising from innocent mistakes or from prejudice or passing feeling. I do not say that they are to be supposed false and dishonest, for the idea is repugnant, from the consideration that it would be idle to falsify and invent when memorandums are intended to be kept secret by the writer. But it is quite conceivable that vanity might lead to statements being made wholly imaginary, with a view of the subsequent exhibition of the book, and were its admissibility as evidence set up by death, it might become a fearful instrument of calumny and accusation. I speak just now of private memorandums, diaries, and journals, taken in the abstract. As to other writings of a deceased person, such as letters, I do not say these may not become admissible as evidence by reason of death, though during life they could not be used. They thus become analogous to words spoken—to representations made and conversations held—by a deceased person, the proper object of hearsay evidence. It was contended that the principle on which hearsay evidence is admitted would extend to anything written by a deceased person. It is assumed to be a declaration in writing of what if spoken would have been admissible on the testimony of the person hearing it. And on the first view it would seem that the written mode is superior to the oral, from the greater certainty that no mistake is committed as to the words used. But this would be a fallacious ground to rest on, for words written would require to be taken without explanation or modification; whereas words spoken to another are subject to the further inquiry by the party addressed as to the meaning of the speaker in order to a better and more thorough understanding of the subject of communication, the object of making it, and the grounds on which the speaker’s statements rest. And all these things may be fought out in the examination of the witness who comes into court to give this hearsay evidence. The value of hearsay evidence, and the weight to be given to it, come thus to depend much on the account which the witness gives of the circumstances under which the communication was made to him, as to the seriousness of the statement and what followed upon it in the way of inquiry and reply. Now a mere writing in the way of a memorandum or entry in a book in the sole custody of the writer till his death can be subject to no such tests. Its very nature shows that it is not intended for communication. It may be an idle, purposeless piece of writing, or it may be a record of unfounded suspicions and malicious charges, treasured up by hostile and malignant feelings in a moody, spiteful mind. These views impress me strongly with the danger of admitting a private journal or diary as evidence to support a criminal charge. I think the question now before us must be decided as a general point. As such I take it up. If I were to confine myself to the special and peculiar circumstances of this case, I should see much perhaps to vindicate the court in the reception of the evidence tendered. There is to be found in the letters which have already been made evidence much to give corroboration or verification to some at least of the entries in the pocket-book. But I feel compelled to close my mind against such considerations, and to look above all to a general and, therefore, safe rule by which to be guided. I have come, therefore, to be of the opinion that the production tendered as evidence in the case in support, as I take it, of the first and second charge, ought to be rejected.”

Lord Ivory said the opinions just delivered had relieved his mind of a burden of responsibility under which he laboured, and which he was ill able to bear. He had given the most anxious, serious, and repeated consideration to this matter. He had found little or nothing in the way of authority, and no dicta so precisely bearing on the case as to be of any avail. But judging in the abstract, applying the rules as applied to other cases, endeavouring to find a principle by comparison of the different classes and categories in which evidence had been distributed and in which it had been received, he felt himself totally unable to come to a conclusion that the evidence of this document should be excluded from the jury. As his opinion could not in the least degree influence the judgment, he should be sorry to add anything that would even seem to be intended to detract from the authority of the judgment now given; least of all should he be disposed to follow such a course in a capital case, where the judgment was in favour of the prisoner. He would content himself, therefore, with simply expressing his opinion. It appeared to him that this document should have been admitted valeat quantum, and that the jury should have considered its weight, and credibility, and value.

TRIAL OF ANN MERRITT.

Before The Lord Chief Baron Pollock and Mr. Justice Cresswell, at the Central Criminal Court, March 8, 1850.

For the Prosecution: Mr. Bodkin and Mr. Clark.

For the Defence: Mr. Clarkson, by the intervention of the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex.

Ann Merritt was indicted for the murder of her husband, James, by poison, at Clapton, on the 25th of January.

Merritt, who was a turncock in the employ of the East London Waterworks, had been at work in his usual health, with the exception of a slight cold, on Wednesday, the 23rd of January. When, however, a fellow-workman called upon him about nine the next morning, he was told by the prisoner that her husband was sick in the yard, and in a minute or two afterwards Merritt came in and told his comrade that he had been drinking some broth and a cup of hot tea upon it, and expected that it had turned his stomach. They started off to work, and on the way Merritt complained of being very thirsty, and went into a public-house and had some rum-and-water before they separated for their respective jobs. He seems, however, to have soon returned home unwell, as between ten and eleven a neighbour (Mrs. Gillett), who lived next door, who had been previously called in by eight o’clock in the morning, saw the deceased in his house very ill, and the prisoner emptying some thick gruel into a basin from a saucepan, and pouring water on it. The gruel had been made from oatmeal fetched from a corn-chandler’s by the witness’s son, at the prisoner’s request, who had given as a reason for making it that her husband had returned so very thirsty. This gruel the deceased was seen eating at a quarter past eleven, and very soon after vomiting. However, at one o’clock, Merritt went out again to work with his comrade, but soon after felt so sick and ill that he asked his friend to do his work for him, and returned home. When his friend returned to Merritt’s house with his tools, between five and six in the evening, the prisoner told him to go upstairs and see “Jem,” as he was very ill, and wanted to see him. This witness went up to the deceased’s bedroom, followed by the prisoner, and found Merritt in bed complaining of being very sick, feeling cramp in his limbs; at which the deceased said, “he did not wonder, as what with the weather and the work they had to do, it was enough to kill a horse.” No more was seen of the parties until half-past nine at night, when Mrs. Gillett was again called in by the prisoner, and found the husband in bed retching violently, and complaining of a burning pain in his chest and stomach. Between ten and eleven Mr. Toulmin, the doctor, was called in, and at half-past twelve the husband died.[126]

MEDICAL AND ANALYTICAL EVIDENCE.

Mr. Toulmin, a general practitioner at Clapton, was first examined. He was called in between ten and eleven on the Thursday night, and found the deceased in bed sick, complaining greatly of pain in his stomach and cramps in his legs, his pulse very weak, and his skin below the natural temperature; he prescribed for him, and left. Subsequently he made a post-mortem examination of the body on the 28th, by the coroner’s order, with the assistance of Mr. Welch, a neighbouring surgeon, to which the prisoner at first objected. When the stomach was opened, it contained a thickish matter slightly pink, which was poured into a stoppered bottle and sent with the stomach to Dr. Letheby for analysis. On its coats there were red spots, such as are observed in persons who have died of irritant poison.

Dr. Henry Letheby, professor of chemistry at the London Hospital, to whom the stomach and its contents had been forwarded, gave the following evidence, which, in consequence of the dispute which subsequently arose on his statement as to the time at which the fatal dose was taken, is given in full:—

“I first experimented,” said the witness, “on the contents of the bottle (the fluid found in the stomach), and detected 8½ grains of white arsenic. By one course of experiments I reproduced the arsenic in a metallic form—it is in this tube (produced). The earthen jar contained part of a human stomach. I noticed a peculiar appearance in it, which I have noticed in cases of poisoning by arsenic—there was a small portion of whitish powder adhering to the lining of the stomach, too small a quantity to enable me to ascertain what it consisted of. I then examined the intestines that were in the jar; I subjected them to a chemical analysis, and the result was the detection of a very small quantity of arsenic. There was also in the jar a part of a human liver. I subjected about a quarter of a pound of it to experiment, and obtained a quantity of metallic arsenic (produced); it was too minute a quantity to weigh. That in the stomach was the only quantity I weighed; that would be sufficient to cause death. I had the opportunity of witnessing a case where 2½ grains killed; the general quantity would be 8 grains; I look upon that as an average dose. It would generally be fatal. Vomiting is almost invariably the consequence of arsenic introduced into the stomach. A person attacked by that would be likely to throw up a portion of the arsenic. Looking at the quantity I found, and the parts in which I found it, in my judgment the arsenic I found had been taken not more than two or three hours before death, but that is a matter of opinion; a dose might have been given before. It would depend upon many circumstances how soon it would find its way into the liver.”

Cross-examined.—Question.—“About two grains of arsenic you say would cause death; do you mean taken together?”

Answer.—“Yes, or less; 2½ grains have done so. I know nothing of this transaction but from the examination. I found a very small portion in the liver, perhaps one tenth of a grain in a quarter of a pound. A liver weighs about 5 pounds, and supposing the arsenic to be equally diffused, there would be twenty times that quantity—equal to 2 grains. My observation with reference to the time it had been taken was in reference both to the stomach and the liver.”

Question.—“Are the data at all safe?”

Answer.—“Yes; I will tell you why. I found in the stomach 8½ grains of arsenic, and there was not much in the intestines. I conclude, therefore, that there had not been time for it to have passed into the intestines, which would have been the case if it had been taken long before death. But there was only a trace in the intestines, so I conclude that it was taken a very short time before death. That furnishes datum to me to form a judgment on the subject of hours. Food remains five hours before it passes into the intestines. I am able to say that the contents of the stomach pass into the intestines in four, eight, or ten hours, from experiments I have performed on living subjects. I have not the least doubt. I saw the intestines; they were in the jar. They did not appear to have been influenced by arsenic; they were slightly red, and there were traces of arsenic. I have reduced something that was in the intestines into a metallic state. I experimented on it, and found it was arsenic. It was destroyed in the experiment to which I was obliged to submit it to prove it was arsenic. It was not likely that I should find it in the liver without some being in the intestines. The time would not depend on the constitution of the person. Digestion depends upon the constitution, but I am speaking of the average. Digestion is more or less rapid according to the constitution of the person who has received the subject matter. I have heard of cases in which matters which would not digest have remained three or four days, but those were solid matters. I think liquids pass into the stomach (intestines?) under all circumstances in five hours as (after?) they are imbibed. There is a valve which prevents solid matters from passing into the stomach till they are digested. The arsenic was in a liquid state, all except a little white powder on the side of the stomach. I am obliged to have recourse to an average to form an opinion as to how long it would take. We have no means of dealing with an independent case except by an average.”

By Mr. Bodkin, Q.C.—Question.—“What did the contents of the stomach look like?”

Answer.—“Thick gruel. They were filtered, and I examined the filtered portion, and my opinion is that the arsenic had been taken two or three hours.”[127]

PURCHASE OF POISON BY THE PRISONER.

This was proved by the son of a chemist of the name of Brown, of whom the prisoner purchased two pennyworths of arsenic on the 19th of January, which, at her request, he enclosed in two separate papers, each marked “poison,” as she said that one of them was for her sister who lived some distance off. The papers had something of the appearance of those of effervescing powders.

CONDUCT AND STATEMENTS OF THE PRISONER.

Mrs. Gillett gave some remarkable evidence as to the statements and conduct of the prisoner during the night of her husband’s fatal illness and after his death.

“When the prisoner called me in a little after nine in the evening, I found her husband in bed retching violently, and I gave him water half-a-dozen times, and then went for Dr. Toulmin. At five o’clock that day the prisoner said she was going for the doctor, to tell him to send her husband something for the bile, but that he did not want her to do so. A second time during the evening she told me she wanted to do this, and that he would not let her, and that she had applied to a neighbouring doctor, but that he had refused to come, and only sent some pills. After her husband died she said, ‘How true were Dr. Toulmin’s words,’ that, ‘when her husband once took to his bed, he would go off like the snuff of a candle.’” [Dr. Toulmin had no recollection of ever having made such a statement.] “Next day the secretary of the Benefit Society to which her husband belonged called and had some conversation with her. Before that she had spoken to me about the Benefit Society, and said if her husband died she should have the full benefit of it. On the day of the post-mortem she asked me if I had asked Dr. Toulmin what was the cause of death, and I said, from what I heard, it was poison; when she said, ‘Do you think I am guilty?’ I replied, ‘I do not doubt you.’ Then she walked about in an agitated manner and appeared distressed. On the day of the inquest she said to me, ‘You know, Mrs. Gillett, that Annie (her little girl) ate the rest of the gruel.’ I said ‘Don’t say so; I did not see any of you eat it.’ She said, ‘If I did not Ashby did, and he ought to be the first witness’ (Ashby said he did not see the deceased or anyone eat it). On the day of the adjourned inquest she asked me if poison had been found, and when I said ‘Yes’ she said ‘I am innocent; he was a good husband, and it is not likely I should do such a thing. Dear creature; if that is the case he has done it with his own hands.’ I replied ‘It is not likely, as he purchased a new pair of boots the morning before his death.’ Whilst we were talking Andrews, the summoning officer, came in, and she said to him ‘Mrs. Gillett knows that I ate the rest of the gruel,’ and I replied ‘I know nothing about it, or who ate it.’[128] On the 31st of January in her house she said to me ‘Do you think if I had any hand in his death I should not have let him live to to-day and then have received the full benefit from the society.’”[129]

On cross-examination the witness protested that she had repeated these conversations before, and was almost certain she had done so before the coroner and the magistrate. When she said ‘I did not doubt her,’ she meant that she had not the slightest suspicion of her guilt. The witness had introduced the subject of the burial club. The prisoner was kind and affectionate to her husband, and attentive during his illness, and much distressed. The witness had heard the deceased complain of the difficulties into which his wife had plunged him, and on the Monday before he was taken ill they had quarrelled.

Other statements of a most unfavourable character were improperly extracted from her by Coward, the inspector of police. As the Lord Chief Baron said, with well-deserved reproof, he had evidently prepared a proceeding, and framed certain questions, which would enable him to observe the demeanour of the prisoner when she was confronted with a witness ready in attendance, in order to give his own view of her conduct afterwards to the jury.

“I,” said this witness, “saw the prisoner on the 2nd of February in her house, and told her I had come to ask a few questions, which she might answer or not as she pleased, but that it would be my duty to repeat her answers to the magistrate; that I should like to have some women present to hear, and accordingly sent for two of her neighbours, and when they had come I asked her ‘Did she know of any arsenic being in the house?’ ‘No.’ ‘Did her husband use it in his business?’ ‘No.’ ‘Had she purchased any lately?’ ‘No.’ Brown was then brought in, and she turned pale and agitated. I told her Brown had told me she had, and she said ‘That was true, and she would tell me what for.’ On the way to the police court she said ‘she purchased it for herself, but thought better of it afterwards.’ I asked her what had become of it afterwards, and she said ‘she had emptied it into one paper.’ She then changed the conversation, and said that her husband was very fond of soda and acid powders, and that a woman had told her that he had said he was very troubled in his mind, and did not know whether he should not jump into the river or Clapton pond.”

On cross-examination he excused the presence of the women, on the ground that he wanted to see if Brown could identify the prisoner; that she wanted to say more but that he stopt her, and told her to tell the magistrate.

Of this last statement of the inspector, the Lord Chief Baron added in his charge—

“That it appeared to him to be a piece of hypocrisy, which accorded with all the rest of his conduct. He wished it to go forth to the public, and that the police themselves should understand, that such proceedings savoured of an excess of zeal which was perfectly unjustifiable, and which ought not to be looked on in any other light than discreditable.”

To Clarke, a police constable, she said, whilst in custody, that “she supposed she should be hung—they had told so many lies about it—she bought the arsenic for her husband.” To the female searcher at the police-station she said that she did not know on what charge she was brought there; and then, when told it, added, “I know he was poisoned, but not by whom.” And when told that Mrs. Gillett was the principal witness against her, declared that she was forsworn. On the second examination at the police-court, she told the gaoler that “she wished the magistrate to know something about the case. All she had said was true, except as to not buying the poison. She had placed it in the same cupboard with her husband’s powders after taking off the papers marked ‘poison.’ If he had taken it, it must have been by mistake, and she threw the remainder of the poison and all his powders into the fire. She intended to have taken it herself if he went on as he had done.”

THE PRISONER’S STATEMENT.

“I have nothing to say except that I never intended my husband to take the poison. When I bought it I intended to take it myself, if he had come home as he had done several times before. I could not live with him had he gone on so. I thought no more of it till the Sunday, when I thought he might have taken it instead of the soda, and then I burnt it. What I said about hanging was this—‘If I am to be hanged this moment I am innocent of anything to my husband.’ I have nothing more to say.”

Mr. Clarkson, for the defence, after alluding to the difficulties under which he laboured in consequence of the prisoner not having made any preparations for her defence, and the brief having only been handed to him as the case was opened, attacked the evidence of Coward in language which the Lord Chief Baron entirely adopted, and asked the jury to dismiss it from their consideration. He also characterised the declarations of the prisoner as told by witnesses clearly unfavourable to her. “With regard to the testimony of Dr. Letheby, if they relied on it, it would be necessary,” he said, “to come to the conclusion that the prisoner had continued administering poison to the deceased during the whole of the day—as it was proved that he was ill as early as eight in the morning. But he asked the jury if her conduct would justify such a conclusion. Her story might be true, and if the deceased took the poison through her culpable negligence in putting it in the cupboard with his soda powders, the offence would not be murder, but manslaughter.”

The strong remarks of the Lord Chief Baron on the conduct and evidence of Coward have already been given, and as the remainder of his charge consisted only of an analysis of the evidence, and its application to the different points of the case, it is needless to report it. As was characteristic of this kind judge, every point that could be made in favour of the prisoner was brought clearly out in his able charge. After a brief deliberation, a verdict of guilty, coupled with a recommendation to mercy on account of her previously good character, was returned, and sentence of death was pronounced by the learned judge.

A medical man of large experience, who was present during the trial, was so astonished at the statement of Dr. Letheby as to the time when the arsenic had been administered, that he communicated with the sheriffs, who brought the case before Sir George Grey, by whom it was referred to Sir Benjamin Brodie, Dr. Billing, Dr. Leeson, and other medical men of repute. These, it was understood, agreed that the time of administration could not be fixed. On this, at the urgent request of Dr. Pereira, Dr. Letheby wrote to the Home Secretary that it was his duty to admit that it was within the range of possibility—nay, even probable—that the arsenic might have been taken, as the woman asserted, early in the morning of her husband’s death, and in consequence the capital sentence was commuted for one of penal servitude for life. This case was used by Mr. Bright in his speech in the House of Commons in favour of the abolition of capital punishments, as a strong example of their danger.

How much more satisfactory would it have been could a court of appeal have reheard such a case instead of its being left to the Home Secretary’s judgment of evidence known only to himself.[130]