TRIAL OF WILLIAM PALMER FOR THE RUGELEY POISONINGS.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT, May 14, 1856.

The long-deferred trial of William Palmer, which, owing to the necessity of passing a special act of Parliament to enable it to take place in this court, has been delayed for a period of several months since the finding of a true bill by the Grand Jury of Staffordshire, commenced to-day at the Old Bailey; and, notwithstanding the interval which has elapsed since this extraordinary case was first brought under the notice of the public, the intense interest and excitement which it then occasioned seem in no degree to have abated. Indeed, if the applications for admission to the court which were made so soon as the trial was appointed, and the eager endeavours of large crowds to gain an entrance to-day, may be regarded as a criterion of the public anxiety upon the progress and issue of the trial, the interest would seem to have augmented rather than diminished.

At a very early hour every entrance to the court was besieged by persons of respectable appearance, who were favoured with cards giving them a right of entrance. Without such cards no admittance could on any pretence be obtained, and even the fortunate holders of them found that they had many difficulties to overcome, and many stern janitors to encounter, before an entrance to the much-coveted precincts could be obtained. On the whole, however, the arrangements of the Under-Sheriffs Stone and Ross were excellent, and, although there may be individual cases of complaint, as there always will be when delicate and important functions have to be performed with firmness, it is but justice to testify to the general completeness and propriety of the regulations which the Sheriffs had laid down.

Among the distinguished persons who were present at the opening of the Court were the Earl of Derby, Earl Grey, the Marquis of Anglesea, Lord Lucan, Lord Denbigh, Prince Edward of Saxe Weimar, Lord W. Lennox, Lord G. G. Lennox, and Lord H. Lennox. The Lord Advocate of Scotland sat by the side of the Attorney-General during the trial.

At five minutes to ten o’clock the learned Judges, Lord Chief Justice Campbell, Mr. Baron Alderson, and Mr. Justice Cresswell, accompanied by the Lord Mayor, and Aldermen Sir G. Carroll, Humphrey, Sir R. W. Carden, Finnis, Sir F. G. Moon, and Sidney, Mr. Sheriff Kennedy, Mr. Sheriff Rose, Mr. Under-Sheriff Stone, and Mr. Under-Sheriff Rose, took their seats on the bench.

The prisoner, William Palmer, was immediately placed in the dock; and to the indictment which charged him with the wilful murder of John Parsons Cook, who died at Rugeley upon the 21st of November last, he pleaded, in a clear, low, but perfectly audible and distinct tone, “Not guilty.” The prisoner is described in the calendar as “William Palmer, 31, surgeon, of superior degree of instruction.” In appearance Palmer is much older, and, although there are no marks of care about his face, there are the set expression and rounded frame which belong to the man of forty or forty-five. His countenance is clear and open, the forehead high, the complexion ruddy, and the general impression which one would form from his appearance would be rather favourable than otherwise, although his features are of a common and somewhat mean cast. There is certainly nothing to indicate to the ordinary observer the presence either of ferocity or cunning, and one would expect to find in him more of the boon companion than the subtle adversary. His manner was remarkably calm and collected throughout the whole of the day. It was altogether devoid of bravado, but was respectful and attentive, and was calculated to create a favourable impression. He frequently conversed with Mr. Smith, his professional adviser, and remained standing until the close of the speech for the prosecution, when at his request his counsel asked that he might be permitted to sit—an application which was at once acceded to by Lord Campbell.

The counsel engaged in the case were:—The Attorney-General, Mr. E. James, Q.C., Mr. Bodkin, Mr. Welsby, and Mr. Huddleston, for the Crown; and Mr. Serjeant Shee, Mr. Grove, Q.C., Mr. Gray, and Mr. Kenealy, for the prisoner.

A most respectable jury having been empanelled, and all the witnesses, with the exception of the medical men, having been ordered out of court,

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL

proceeded, amid breathless silence, to open the case on the part of the prosecution. He said: Gentlemen of the jury, the duty you are called upon to discharge is the most solemn which a man can by possibility have to perform—it is to sit in judgment and to decide an issue on which depends the life of a fellow human being who stands charged with the highest crime for which a man can be arraigned before a worldly tribunal. I am sure that I need not ask your most anxious and earnest attention to such a case; but there is one thing I feel it incumbent on me to urge upon you. The peculiar circumstances of this case have given it a profound and painful interest throughout the whole country. There is scarcely a man, perhaps, who has not come to some conclusion on the issue which you are now to decide. All the details have been seized on with eager avidity, and there is, perhaps, no one who is not more or less acquainted with those details. Standing here as a minister of justice; with no interest and no desire save that justice shall be done impartially, I feel it incumbent on me to warn you not to allow any preconceived opinion to operate on your judgment this day. Your duty—your bounden duty—is to try this case according to the evidence which shall be brought before you, and according to that alone. You must discard from your minds anything that you may have read or heard, or any opinion that you may have formed. If the evidence shall satisfy you of the prisoner’s guilt, you will discharge your duty to society, to your consciences, and to the oaths which you have taken, by fearlessly pronouncing your verdict accordingly; but if the evidence fail to produce a reasonable conviction of guilt in your minds, God forbid that the scale of justice should be inclined against the prisoner by anything of prejudice or preconceived opinion. My duty, gentlemen, will be a simple one. It will be to lay before you the facts on which the prosecution is based, and in doing so I must ask for your most patient attention. They are of a somewhat complicated character, and they range over a considerable period of time, so that it will be necessary not merely to look to circumstances which are immediately connected with the accusation, but to go back to matters of an antecedent date. I may safely say, however, that, in my conscience, I believe there is not a fact to which I am about to ask your patient attention which has not an immediate and most important bearing on this case. The prisoner at the bar, William Palmer, was by profession a medical practitioner, and he carried on that profession in the town of Rugeley, in Staffordshire, for several years. In later years, however, he became addicted to turf pursuits, which gradually drew off his attention and weaned him from his profession. Within the last two or three years he made over his business to a person named Thirlby, formerly his assistant, who now carries it on. In the course of his pursuits connected with the turf, Palmer became intimate with the man whose death forms the subject of this inquiry—Mr. John Parsons Cook.

Now, Mr. Cook was a young man of decent family, who originally had been intended for the profession of the law. He was articled to a solicitor; but after a time, inheriting some property, to the extent, I think, of some £12,000 or £15,000, he abandoned the laborious profession of the law, and betook himself also to the turf. He kept racehorses and betted considerably; and in the course of his operations he became much connected and familiarly intimate with the prisoner William Palmer. It is for the murder of that Mr. John Parsons Cook that the prisoner stands indicted to-day, the charge against him being that he took away that man’s life by poison. It will be necessary to show you the circumstances in which the prisoner Palmer was then placed, and the position in which he stood relatively to the deceased Cook. It will be impossible thoroughly to understand this case in all its bearings without those circumstances being laid before you, and it will be necessary, therefore, that I should go into them particularly. The case which, on the part of the prosecution, I have to urge against Palmer is this—that, being in desperate circumstances, with ruin, disgrace, and punishment staring him in the face, which could only be averted by means of money, he took advantage of his intimacy with Cook, when Cook had become the winner of a considerable sum, to destroy him, in order to obtain possession of his money. Out of the circumstances of Palmer at that time arose, as we say, the motive which induced him to commit this crime. If I show you upon evidence which can leave no reasonable doubt in your minds that he committed that crime, motives become a matter of secondary importance. Nevertheless, in inquiries of this kind, it is natural and right to look to see what may have been the motives by which a man has been induced to commit the crime charged against him; and if we find strong motives, the more readily shall we be led to believe in the probability of the crime having been committed; but if we find an absence of motive the probability is the other way. In this case, the motive will be matter for serious consideration; and inasmuch as the circumstances out of which we say that the motive arose come first in order of time, I will deal with them before I come to that which is the more immediate subject matter of our inquiry. It seems to me that it would be most convenient that I should follow the chronological order of events, and I will therefore pursue that course. It appears that as early as the year 1853 Palmer had got into difficulties, and that he began to raise money upon bills. In 1854 his circumstances became worse, and he was at that time indebted to different persons in a large sum of money. He then had recourse to an expedient which it is important that I should bring before you; but, as it will become necessary for me to detail to you transactions involving fraud, and, what is worse, forgery, I wish to make a few observations to you before I detail those transactions.

Although I am anxious, where I feel it to be absolutely necessary for the elucidation of the truth, that those circumstances should be brought before you, I wish that they should not have more than their fair and legitimate weight. You must not allow them to prejudice your minds against the prisoner with reference to that which is the real matter of inquiry. I cannot avoid bringing them forward; but I would anxiously caution you and pray you not to allow any prejudice by reason of those transactions to operate against the prisoner; for, though a man may be guilty of fraud and forgery, it does not follow, therefore, that he is guilty of murder.

Among the bills on which Palmer raised money in 1853 was one for £2,000, which he had discounted by a person named Padwick. That bill bore the acceptance of Sarah Palmer, the mother of the prisoner. She was, and is, a woman of considerable property, and her acceptance being believed to be genuine, was a security upon which money could readily be raised. The prisoner forged that acceptance, and that was, if not the first, at all events one of the earliest transactions of that nature by means of which for a long period of time money was obtained by him upon bills, with his mother’s acceptance forged by him. This shows how, when things came to a climax and he found himself involved in a position of great peril and emergency, he had recourse to a desperate expedient to avoid the consequences which seemed inevitably to press upon him. He owed in 1854 a very large sum of money. On the 29th of September in that year his wife died. He had effected an insurance upon her life for £13,000, and the proceeds of that insurance were realised, and by means of them he discharged some of his most pressing liabilities. In dealing with a portion of these liabilities he employed a gentleman named Pratt, a solicitor in London, who was in the habit of discounting bills. Mr. Pratt received from him £8,000, and Mr. Wright, a solicitor of Birmingham, received £5,000; and with those two sums £13,000 of debt was disposed of; but that still left Palmer with considerable liabilities, and among other things, the bill of £2,000, which was discounted by Padwick, remained unpaid. In the course of the same year he effected an insurance on his brother’s life, and upon the strength of that policy Palmer proceeded to issue fresh bills, which were discounted by Pratt at the rate of 60 per cent., who kept the policy as collateral security. The bills which were discounted in the course of that year amounted in the whole to £12,500. I find that there were two bills discounted as early as June, 1854, which were held over from month to month. In March, 1855, two bills were discounted for £2,000 each, with the proceeds of which Palmer bought two race-horses, called Nettle and Chicken. Those bills were renewed in June, and one became due on the 28th of September, and the other on the 2nd of October, when they were again renewed. The result of the bill proceedings of the year was that in November, when the Shrewsbury races took place, there were in Pratt’s hands one bill for £2,000, due the 25th of October; another for £2,000, due the 27th of October; two for the joint sum of £1,500, due on the 9th of November; one for £1,000, due on the 30th of September; one for £2,000, due on the 1st January; one for £2,000, due on the 5th of January; and another for £2,000, due on the 15th of January; making altogether £12,500. £1,000 of this sum, however, he had contrived to pay off, so that there was due in November, 1855, no less than £11,500, upon bills, every one of which bore the forged acceptance of the prisoner’s mother.

Under these circumstances, a pressure naturally arose—the pressure of £11,500 of liabilities, with not a shilling in the world to meet them, and the still greater pressure resulting from a consciousness that the moment when he could no longer go on and his mother was resorted to for payment, the fact of those forgeries would at once become manifest, and would bring upon him the peril of the law for the crime of forgery. The prisoner’s brother died in August, 1855. His life had been insured, and the policy for £13,000 had been assigned to the prisoner, who, of course, expected that the proceeds of that insurance would pay off his liabilities; but the office in which the insurance was effected declined to pay, and consequently there was no assistance to be derived from that source. Now, in these transactions to which I have referred, the deceased John Parsons Cook had been to a certain extent concerned. It seems that in May, 1855, Palmer was pressed to pay £500 to a person named Serjeant. He had at that time in the hands of Palmer a balance upon bill transactions of £310 to his credit, and he wanted Pratt to advance the £190 necessary to make up £500. Pratt declined to do that, except upon security; upon which Palmer offered him the acceptance of Cook, representing him to be a man of substance. Accordingly the acceptance of Cook for £200 was sent up, and upon that Pratt advanced the money. When that bill for £200 became due, Palmer failed to provide for it, and Cook had to meet it himself. In August of the same year, an occurrence took place to which I must call your particular attention. Palmer wrote to Pratt to say that he must have £1,000 by a day named. Pratt declined to advance it without security; upon which Palmer offered the security of Cook’s acceptance for £500. Pratt still declined to advance the money without some more tangible security. Now Palmer represented this as a transaction in which Cook required the money, and it may be that such was the fact. I have no means of ascertaining how that was; but I will give him the credit of supposing it to be true. Pratt still declining to advance the money, Palmer proposed an assignment by Cook of two racehorses, one called Polestar, which won the Shrewsbury races, and another called Sirius. That assignment was afterwards executed by Cook in favour of Pratt, and Cook, therefore, was clearly entitled to the money which was raised upon that security, which realised £375 in cash, and a wine warrant for £65. Palmer contrived, however, that the money and wine warrant should be sent to him, and not to Cook. Mr. Pratt sent down his cheque to Palmer in the country on a stamp as the Act of Parliament required, and he availed himself of the opportunity now offered by law of striking out the word “bearer” and writing “order,” the effect of which was to necessitate the endorsement of Cook on the back of the cheque.

It was not intended by Palmer that those proceeds should fall into Cook’s hands, and accordingly he forged the name of John Parsons Cook on the back of that cheque. Cook never received the money, and you will see that, within ten days from the period when he came to his end, the bill in respect to that transaction, which was at three months, would have fallen due, when it must have become apparent that Palmer received the money; and that, in order to obtain it, he had forged the endorsement of Cook. I wish these were the only transactions in which Cook had been at all mixed up with the prisoner Palmer; but there is another to which it is necessary to refer. In September, 1855, Palmer’s brother having died, and the proceeds of the insurance not having been realised, Palmer induced a person named Bates to propose his life for insurance. Palmer had succeeded in raising money upon previous policies, and I have no doubt that he persuaded Cook to assist him in that transaction, so that, by representing Bates as a man of wealth and substance, they might get a policy on his life, by which policy, deposited as a collateral security, they might obtain advances of money. Bates had been somewhat better off in the world, but he had fallen into decay, and he had accepted employment from Palmer as a sort of hanger-on in his stables. He was a healthy young man; and, being in the company of Palmer and Cook at Rugeley on the 5th of September, Palmer asked him to insure his life, and produced the form of proposal to the office. Bates declined, but Palmer pressed him, and Cook interposed and said, “You had better do it; it will be for your benefit, and you’ll be quite safe with Palmer.” At length they succeeded in persuading him to sign the proposal for no less a sum than £25,000, Cook attesting the proposal, which Palmer filled in, Palmer being referred to as medical attendant, and his former assistant, Thirlby, as general referee. That proposal was sent up to the Solicitors and General Insurance Office, and in the ensuing month—that office not being disposed to effect the insurance—they sent up another for £10,000 to the Midland Office—on that same life. That proposal also failed, and no money, therefore, could be obtained from that source. All these circumstances are important, because they show the desperate straits in which the prisoner at that time found himself.

The learned counsel then read a series of letters from Mr. Pratt to the prisoner, all pressing upon the prisoner the importance of his meeting the numerous bills which Pratt held, bearing the acceptance of Mrs. Sarah Palmer; and these letters appeared to become more urgent when the writer found that the insurance office refused to pay the £13,000 upon the policy effected on the life of the prisoner’s brother, and which Pratt held as collateral security. The letters were dated at intervals between the 10th of September and the 18th of October, 1855.

On the 6th of November, two writs were issued by Pratt for £4,000, one against Palmer and the other against his mother; and Pratt wrote on the same day to say that he had sent the writs to Mr. Crabbe, but that they were not to be served until he sent further instructions, and he strongly urged Palmer to make immediate arrangements for meeting them, and also to arrange for the bills for £1,500 due on the 9th of November. Between the 10th and the 13th of November, Palmer succeeded in paying £600; but on that day Pratt again wrote to him, urging him to raise £1,000, at all events, to meet the bills due on the 9th. That being the state of things at that time, we now come to the events connected with Shrewsbury Races. Cook was the owner of a mare called Polestar, which was entered for the Shrewsbury Handicap. She had been advantageously weighted, and Cook, believing that the mare would win, betted largely upon the event. The race was run upon the 13th of November—the very day on which that last letter was written by Pratt, which would reach Palmer on the 14th. The result of the race was that Polestar won, and that Cook was entitled, in the first place, to the stakes, which amounted to £424, minus certain deductions, which left a net sum of £381 19s. His bets had also been successful, and he won, upon the whole, a total sum of £2,050. He had won also in the previous week, at Worcester, and I shall show that at Shrewsbury he had in his pocket, besides the stakes and the money which he would be entitled to receive at Tattersall’s, between £700 and £800. The stakes he would receive through Mr. Weatherby, a great racing agent in London, with whom he kept an account, and upon whom he would draw; and, the race being run on a Tuesday, he would be entitled on the ensuing Monday to receive his bets at Tattersall’s, which amounted to £1,020.

Within a week from that time Mr. Cook died, and the important inquiry which we have now to make is how he came by his death—whether by natural causes or by the hand of man? and if the latter, by whose hand? It is important, in the first place, that I should show you what was his state of health when he went down to Shrewsbury. He was a young man, but twenty-eight when he died. He was slightly disposed to a pulmonary complaint, and, although delicate in that respect, he was in all other respects a hale and hearty young man. He had been in the habit, from time to time, especially with reference to his chest, of consulting a physician in London—Dr. Savage, who saw him a fortnight before his death. For four years he had occasionally consulted Dr. Savage, being at that time a little anxious about the state of his throat, in which there happened to be one or two slight eruptions. He had been taking mercury for these eruptions, having mistaken the character of the complaint. Dr. Savage at once saw that he had made a mistake, and desired him to discontinue the use of mercury, substituting for it a course of tonics. Mr. Cook’s health immediately began to improve; but, inasmuch as the new course of treatment might have involved serious consequences in case Dr. Savage had been mistaken in the diagnosis of the disease, he asked Cook to look in upon him from time to time, and Cook had, as recently as within a fortnight of his death, gone to call upon Dr. Savage. Dr. Savage then examined his throat and whole system carefully, and he will be prepared to tell you that at that time he had nothing on earth the matter with him except a certain degree of thickening of the tonsils, or some of the glands of the throat, to which anyone is liable, and there was no symptom whatever of ulcerated sore-throat or anything of the sort. Having then seen Dr. Savage, he went down to Shrewsbury Races, and his horse won. After that he was somewhat excited, as a man might naturally be under the circumstances of having won a considerable sum of money, and he asked several friends to dine with him to celebrate the event. They dined together at the Raven, the hotel where he was staying, and had two or three bottles of wine, but there was no excess of any sort, and no foundation for saying that Cook was the worse for liquor. Indeed he was not addicted to excesses, but was, on the contrary, an abstemious man on all occasions. He went to bed that night, and there was nothing the matter with him. He got up the next day, and went again on the course, as usual.

That night, Wednesday, the 14th November, a remarkable incident happened, to which I beg to draw your attention. A friend of his, a Mr. Fisher, and a Mr. Herring, were at Shrewsbury Races, and Fisher, who, besides being a sporting man, was an agent for receiving winnings, and who received Cook’s bets at the settling day at Tattersall’s, occupied the room next to that occupied by Cook. Late in the evening Fisher went into a room in which he found Palmer and Cook drinking brandy-and-water. Cook gave him something to drink, and said to Palmer, “You’ll have some more, won’t you?” Palmer replied, “Not unless you finish your glass.” Cook said, “I’ll soon do that;” and he finished it at a gulp, leaving only about a teaspoonful at the bottom of the glass. He had hardly swallowed it, when he exclaimed, “Good God! there’s something in it, it burns my throat.” Palmer immediately took up the glass, and drinking what remained, said, “Nonsense, there’s nothing in it;” and then pushing the glass to Fisher and another person who had come in, said, “Cook fancies there is something in the brandy-and-water—there’s nothing in it—taste it.” On which one of them replied, “How can we taste it? you’ve drank it all.” Cook suddenly rose and left the room, and called Fisher out, saying that he was taken seriously ill. He was seized with most violent vomiting, and became so bad that after a little while it was necessary to take him to bed. He vomited there again and again in the most violent way, and as the sickness continued after the lapse of a couple of hours a medical man was sent for. He came and proposed an emetic and other means for making the sick man eject what he had taken. After that, medicine was given him—at first some stimulant of a comforting nature, and then a pill as a purgative dose. After two or three hours he became more tranquil, and about 2 o’clock he fell asleep and slept till next morning. Such was the state of the man’s feelings all that time that I cannot tell what passed; but he gave Fisher the money which he had about him, desiring him to take care of it, and Mr. Fisher will tell you that that money amounted to between £800 and £900 in notes.

The next morning, having passed a quiet night, as I have said, and feeling better, he went out on the course; and he saw Fisher, who gave him back his notes. That was the Thursday. He still looked very ill, and felt very ill; but the vomiting had ceased. On that day Palmer’s horse, the Chicken, ran at Shrewsbury. He had backed his mare heavily, but she lost. When Palmer went to Shrewsbury he had no money, and was obliged to borrow £25 to take him there. His horse lost, and he lost bets upon the race. He and Cook then left Shrewsbury, and returned to Rugeley, Cook going to the Talbot Arms Hotel, directly opposite the prisoner’s house. There is an incident however, connected with the occurrence at Shrewsbury, which I must mention. About 11 o’clock that night, a Mrs. Brooks, who betted on commission and had an establishment of jockeys, went to speak to the deceased upon some racing business, and in the lobby she saw Palmer holding up a tumbler to the light; and, having looked at it through the gas, he withdrew to an outer room and presently returned with the glass in his hand, and went into the room where Cook was, and in which room he drank the brandy and water from which I suppose you will infer that the sickness came on. I do not charge that by anything which caused that sickness Cook’s death was occasioned; but I shall show you that throughout the ensuing days at Rugeley he constantly received things from the prisoner, and that during those days that sickness was continued. I shall show you that after he died antimony was found in the tissues of his body and in his blood—antimony administered in the form of tartar emetic, which, if continued to be applied, will maintain sickness.

It was not that, however, of which this man died. The charge is, that having been prepared by antimony, he was killed by strychnine. You have, no doubt, heard of the vegetable product known as nux vomica. In that nut or bean there resides a subtle and fatal poison which is capable of being extracted from it by the skill of the operative chemist, and of which the most minute quantity is fatal to animal life. From half to a quarter of a grain will destroy life—you may imagine, therefore, how minute is the dose. In the human organization the nervous system may be divided into two main parts—the nerves of sensation, by which a consciousness of all external sensations is conveyed to the brain; and the nerves of motion, which are, as it were, the agents between the intellectual power of man and the physical action which arises from his organization. Those are the two main branches having their origin in the immediate vicinity of the seat of man’s intellectual existence. They are entirely distinct in their allocations, and one set of nerves may be affected while the other is left undisturbed. You may paralyse the nerves of sensation and may leave the nerves which act upon the voluntary muscles of movement wholly unaffected; or you may reverse that state of things, and may affect the nerves and muscles of volition, leaving the nerves of sensation wholly unaffected. Strychnine affects the nerves which act on the voluntary muscles, and it leaves wholly unaffected the nerves on which human consciousness depends; and it is important to bear this in mind—some poisons produce a total absence of consciousness, but the poison to which I refer affects the voluntary action of the muscles of the body, and leaves unimpaired the power of consciousness. Now, the way in which strychnine acting upon the voluntary muscles is fatal to life is, that it produces the most intense excitement of all those muscles, violent convulsions take place—spasms which affect the whole body and which end in rigidity—all the muscles become fixed, and the respiratory muscles in which the lungs have play are fixed with an immovable rigidity, respiration consequently is suspended, and death ensues. These symptoms are known to medical men under the term of tetanus. There are other forms of tetanus which produce death, and which arise from other causes than the taking of strychnine, but there is a wide difference between the various forms of the same disease, which prevents the possibility of mistake.

The learned counsel then explained the different symptoms which characterise traumatic tetanus and idiopathic tetanus, which latter is of comparatively rare occurrence in this country; but, as this is a matter which will be hereafter dwelt upon with great detail in the medical testimony, it is unnecessary to burden our report with it at any length here:—(He then continued.) I have reason to believe that an attempt will be made to confound those different classes of disease, and it will be necessary therefore for the jury to watch with great minuteness the medical evidence upon this point. It will show that both in traumatic and idiopathic tetanus the disease commences with the milder symptoms, which gradually progress towards the development and final completion of the attack. When once the disease has commenced, it continues without intermission, although, as in every other form of malady, the paroxysms will be from time to time more or less intense. In the case of tetanus from strychnine it is not so. It commences with paroxysms which may subside for a time, but are renewed again; and, whereas other forms of tetanus almost always last during a certain number of hours or days, when we deal with strychnine we deal with cases not of hours but of minutes—in which we have no beginning of the disease, and then a gradual development to the climax; but in which the paroxysms commence with all their power at the very first, and terminate, after a few short minutes of fearful agony and struggles, in the dissolution of the victim. Palmer was a medical man, and it is clear that the effect of strychnine had not escaped his attention; for I have a book before me which was found in his house after his arrest, called Manual for Students Preparing for Examination at Apothecaries’ Hall; and on the first page, in his handwriting, I observe this remark, “Strychnine kills by causing tetanic fixing of the respiratory muscles.” I don’t wish to attach more importance to that circumstance than it deserves, because nothing is more natural than that, in a book of this kind belonging to a professional man, such notes should be made; but I refer to it to show that the effect of poison on human life had come within his notice.

I now revert to what took place after the arrival of these people at Rugeley. They arrived on the night of Thursday, the 15th of November, between ten and eleven o’clock, when Mr. Cook took some refreshment and went to bed. He rose next morning and went out, and dined that day with Palmer. He returned to the inn about ten o’clock that evening, perfectly well and sober, and went to bed. The next morning, at an early hour, Palmer was with him, and from that time throughout the whole of Saturday and Sunday he was constantly in attendance on him. He ordered him coffee on Saturday morning. It was brought in by the chambermaid, Elizabeth Mills, and given to the prisoner, who had an opportunity of tampering with it before giving it to Cook. Immediately after taking it the same symptoms set in which had occurred at Shrewsbury. Throughout the whole of that day and the next, the prisoner constantly administered various things to Cook, who continued to be tormented with that incessant and troublesome sickness. Again, toast-and-water was brought over from the prisoner’s house, instead of being made at the inn, as it might have been, and again the sickness ensued. It seems also that Palmer desired a woman named Roney to procure some broth for Cook from the Albion. She obtained it and gave it to Palmer to warm, and when Palmer had done so he told her to take it to the Talbot for Mr. Cook, and to say that Mr. Smith had sent it—there being a Mr. Jeremiah Smith, an intimate friend of Cook. Cook tried to swallow a spoonful of the broth, but it immediately made him sick, and he brought it off his stomach. The broth was then taken down stairs, and after a little while the prisoner came across and asked if Mr. Cook had had his broth. He was told, “No; that he had tried to take it, but that it had made him sick, and that he could not retain it on his stomach.” Palmer said that he must take it, and desired that the broth should be brought upstairs. Cook tried to take it again, but again he began to vomit and throw the whole off his stomach. It was then taken down stairs, and a woman at the inn, thinking that it looked nice, took a couple of tablespoonfuls of it; within half an hour she also was taken severely ill. Vomiting came on, and continued almost incessantly for five or six hours. She was obliged to go to bed, and she had exactly the same symptoms which manifested themselves in Cook’s person after he drank the brandy and water at Shrewsbury. On that Saturday, about three o’clock, Dr. Bamford, a medical man at Rugeley, was called in, and Palmer told him that Cook had a bilious attack—that he had dined with him on the day before, and had drunk too freely of champagne, which had disordered his stomach.

Now, I shall show to you, by the evidence of medical men, both at Shrewsbury and Rugeley, that although Palmer had on one or two occasions represented Cook as suffering under bilious diarrhœa, there was not, during the continuance of the violent vomiting which I have mentioned, a single bilious symptom of any sort whatever. Dr. Bamford visited him at half-past 3, and when he found Mr. Cook suffering from violent vomiting, and the stomach in so irritable a state that it would not retain a tablespoonful of anything, he naturally tried to see what the symptoms were which could lead him to form a notion as to the cause of that state of things. He found to his surprise that the pulse of the patient was perfectly natural—that his tongue was quite clean, his skin quite moist, and that there was not the slightest trace of fever, or, in short, of any of those symptoms which might be expected in the case of a bilious man. Having heard from Palmer that he ascribed his illness to an excess of wine on the previous day, he informed Cook of it, and Cook then said, “Well, I suppose I must have taken too much, but it’s very odd, for I only took three glasses.” The representation, therefore, made by Palmer, that Cook had taken an excess of champagne, was not correct. Coffee was brought up to Cook at 4 o’clock when Palmer was there, and he vomited immediately. At 6 some barley-water was taken to him when Palmer was not there, and the barley-water did not produce vomiting. At 8 some arrowroot was given him, Palmer was present, and vomiting took place again. These may, no doubt, be mere coincidences, but they are facts, which, of whatever interpretation they may be susceptible, are well deserving of attention, that during the whole of that Saturday Palmer was continually in and out of the house in which Cook was sojourning; that he gave him a variety of things, and that whenever he gave him anything sickness invariably ensued. That evening Dr. Bamford called again, and finding that the sickness still continued he prepared for the patient two pills containing half a grain of calomel, half a grain of morphia, and four grains of rhubarb.

On the following day, Sunday, between 7 and 8 o’clock in the morning, Dr. Bamford is again summoned to Cook’s bedside, and finds the sickness still recurring, but fails to detect any symptoms of bile. He visited him repeatedly in the course of that day, and on leaving him in the evening found, that though the sickness continued, the tongue was clean, and there was not the slightest indication of bile or fever. And so Sunday ended. On Monday, the 19th, Palmer left Rugeley for London—on what business I shall presently explain. Before starting, however, he called in the morning to see Cook, and ordered him a cup of coffee. He took it up himself, and after drinking it Cook, as usual, vomited. After that Palmer took his departure. Presently Dr. Bamford called, and, finding Cook still suffering from sickness of the stomach, gave him some medicine. Whether from the effect of that medicine, or from whatever other cause, I know not; but it is admitted that from that time a great improvement was observed in Cook. Palmer was not present, and during the whole of the day Cook was better. Between 12 and 1 o’clock he is visited by Dr. Bamford, who, perceiving the improvement, advised him to get up. He does so, washes, dresses, recovers his spirits, and sits up for several hours. Two of his jockies and his trainer called to see him, are admitted to his room, enter into conversation with him, and perceive that he is in a state of comparative ease and comfort, and so he continued till a late hour. I will now interrupt for a moment the consecutive narration of what passed afterwards at Rugeley to follow Palmer through the events in which he was concerned in London. He had written to a person named Herring to meet him at Beaufort-buildings, where a boarding-house was kept by a lady named Hawks. Herring was a man on the turf, and had been to Shrewsbury Races. Immediately on seeing Palmer he inquired after Cook’s health. “Oh,” said Palmer, “he is all right; his medical man has given him a dose of calomel and recommended him not to come out, and what I want to see you about is the settling of his accounts.” Monday, it appears, was settling-day at Tattersall’s, and it was necessary that all accounts should be squared. Cook’s usual agent for effecting that arrangement was a person named Fisher, and it seems not a little singular that Cook should not have told Palmer why Fisher should not have been employed on this as on all similar occasions.

On this point, however, Palmer offered no explanation. He was himself a defaulter, and could not show at Tattersall’s. He produced a piece of paper which he said contained a list of the sums which Cook was entitled to receive, and he mentioned the names of the different persons who were indebted to Cook, and the amounts for which they were respectively liable. Herring held out his hand to take the paper, but Palmer said, “No, I will keep this document; here is another piece of paper, write down what I read to you, and what I have here I will retain, as it will be a check against you.” He then dictated the names of the various persons, with the sums for which they were liable. Herring observed that it amounted to £1,020. “Very well,” said Palmer, “pay yourself £6, Shelly, £30, and if you see Bull, tell him Cook will pay him on Thursday or Friday. And now,” he added, “how much do you make the balance?” Herring replied that he made it £984. Palmer replied that the tot was right, and then went on to say, “I will give you £16, which will make it £1,000. Pay yourself the £200 that I owe you for my bill; pay Padwick £350, and Pratt £450.” So we have it here established, beyond all controversy, that Palmer did not hesitate to apply Cook’s money to the payment of his own debts. With regard to the debt due to Mr. Padwick, I am assured that it represents moneys won by that gentleman, partly from Cook, and partly from Palmer, but that Mr. Padwick held Palmer to be the responsible party, and looked to him for payment. The debt to Pratt was Palmer’s own affair. Such is the state of things as regards the disposition of the money. Palmer desired Herring to send cheques to Pratt and Padwick at once, and without waiting to draw the money from Tattersall’s. To this Herring objected, observing that it would be most injudicious to send the cheques before he was sure of getting the money. “Ah, well,” said Palmer, “never mind—it is all right; but come what will, Pratt must be paid, for his claim is on account of a bill of sale for a mare.” Finding it impossible to overcome Herring’s objection to send the cheques until he had got the money at Tattersall’s, Palmer then proceeded to settle some small betting transactions between himself and that gentleman amounting to £5, or thereabouts. He pulled out a £50 note, and Herring, not having full change, gave him a cheque for £20. They then parted, Palmer directing him to send down word of his proceedings either to him (Palmer) or to Cook. With this injunction Herring complied, and I shall prove in the course of the trial that the letters he wrote to Cook were intercepted by the postmaster at Rugeley. Not having received as much as he expected at Tattersall’s, Herring was unable to pay Padwick the £350; but it is not disputed that he paid £450 to Pratt.

On the same day, Palmer went himself to the latter gentleman, and paid him other moneys, consisting of £30 in notes, and the cheque for £20 which he had received from Herring, and a memorandum was drawn, and to which I shall hereafter have occasion to call attention. So much for Palmer’s proceedings in London. On the evening of that same day (Monday) he returned home. Arriving at Rugeley about nine o’clock at night, he at once proceeded to visit Cook, at the Talbot Arms; and from that time till ten or eleven o’clock he was continually in and out of Cook’s room. In the course of the evening he went to a man named Newton, assistant to a surgeon named Salt, and applied for three grains of strychnine, which Newton, knowing Palmer to be a medical practitioner, did not hesitate to give him. Dr. Bamford had sent on this day the same kind of pills that he had sent on Saturday and Sunday. I believe it was the doctor’s habit to take the pills himself to the Talbot Arms, and intrust them to the care of the housekeeper, who carried them upstairs; but it was Palmer’s practice to come in afterwards, and evening after evening, to administer medicine to the patient. There is no doubt that Cook took pills on Monday night. Whether he took the pills prepared for him by Dr. Bamford, and similar to those which he had taken on Saturday and Sunday, or whether Palmer substituted for Dr. Bamford’s pills some of his own concoction, consisting in some measure of strychnine, I must leave for the jury to determine. Certain it is, that when he left Cook at eleven o’clock at night, the latter was still comparatively well and comfortable, and cheerful as in the morning. But he was not long to continue so. About twelve o’clock the female servants in the lower part of the house were alarmed by violent screams, proceeding from Cook’s room. They rushed up, and found him in great agony, shrieking dreadfully, shouting “Murder!” and calling on Christ to save his soul. He was in intense pain. The eyes were starting out of his head. He was flinging his arms wildly about him, and his whole body was convulsed. He was perfectly conscious, however, and desired that Palmer should be sent for without delay. One of the women ran to fetch him, and he attended in a few minutes. He found Cook still screaming, gasping for breath, and hardly able to speak. He ran back again to procure some medicine; and on his return Cook exclaimed, “Oh dear, doctor, I shall die!” “No, my lad, you shall not,” replied Palmer; and he then gave him some more medicine. The sick man vomited almost immediately, but there was no appearance of the pills in the utensil.

Shortly afterwards he became more calm, and called on the women to rub his limbs. They did so, and found them cold and rigid. Presently the symptoms became still more tranquil, and he grew better; but the medical men will depose that the tetanus that afflicted him was that occasioned by strychnine. His frame, exhausted by the terrible agony it had endured, now fell gradually into repose; nature asserted her claim to rest, and he began to dose. So matters remained till the morrow, Tuesday the 20th, the day of his death. On the morning of that day, Cook was found comparatively comfortable, though still retaining a vivid impression of the horrors he had suffered the night before. He was quite collected, and conversed rationally with the chambermaid. Palmer meeting Dr. Bamford that same day, told him that he did not want to have Cook disturbed, for that he was now at his ease, though he had had a fit the night before. This same morning, between the hours of eleven and twelve o’clock, there occurred a very remarkable incident. About that time Palmer went to the shop of a certain Mr. Hawkings, a druggist, at Rugeley. He had not dealt with him for two years before, it being his practice during that period to purchase such drugs as he required from Mr. Thirlby, a former assistant of Mr. Hawkings, who had set up in business for himself. But on this day Palmer went to Mr. Hawkings’s shop, and, producing a bottle, informed the assistant that he wanted two drachms of prussic acid. While it was being prepared for him, Mr. Newton, the same man from whom he had on a former occasion obtained strychnine, came into the shop, whereupon Palmer seized him by the arm, and observing that he had something particular to say to him, hurried him into the street, where he kept talking to him on a matter of the smallest possible importance, relating to the precise period at which his employer’s son meant to repair to a farm he had taken in the country. They continued to converse on this trivial topic until a gentleman named Brassington (or Grassington) came up, whereupon Mr. Newton turned aside to say a few words to him. Palmer, relieved by this accident, went back into the shop, and asked, in addition, for six grains of strychnine and a certain quantity of Batley’s liquor of opium. He obtained them, paid for them, and went away. Presently Mr. Newton returned, and being struck with the fact of Palmer’s dealing with Hawkings, asked out of passing curiosity what he had come for, and was informed.

And here I must mention a fact of some importance respecting Mr. Newton. When examined before the coroner, that gentleman only deposed to one purchase of strychnine by Palmer at Mr. Salt’s surgery, and it was only as recently as yesterday that with many expressions of contrition for not having been more explicit, he communicated to the Crown the fact that Palmer had also bought strychnine on Monday night. It is for you, gentlemen, to decide the amount of credit to be attached to this evidence; but you will bear in mind that whatever you may think of Mr. Newton’s testimony, that of Mr. Roberts, on whom there is no taint or shadow of suspicion, is decisive with respect to the purchases which the prisoner made on Tuesday at the shop of Mr. Hawkings. I now resume the story of Tuesday’s proceedings with the observation that Cook was entitled to receive the stakes he had won at Shrewsbury. On that day Palmer sent for Mr. Cheshire, the postmaster of Rugeley. He owed Cheshire £7 odd, and the latter, supposing that he was about to be paid, came with a stamped receipt in his hand. Palmer produced a paper, and remarking “that Cook was too ill to write himself,” told Cheshire to draw a cheque on Weatherby’s in his (Palmer’s) favour for £350. Cheshire thereupon filled up a piece of paper purporting to be the body of a cheque, addressed in the manner indicated to the Messrs. Weatherby, and concluding with the words, “and place the same to my account.” Palmer then took the document away, for the purpose, as he averred, of getting Cook’s signature to it. What became of it I do not undertake to assert; but of this there is no question, that by that night’s post Palmer sent up to Weatherby’s a cheque which was returned dishonoured. Whether it was genuine, or like so many other papers with which Palmer had to do, forged, is a question which you will have to determine. And now, returning to Cook, it may be observed that in the course of that morning coffee and broth were sent him by Palmer, and, as usual, vomiting ensued and continued through the whole of the afternoon.

And now a new person makes his appearance on the stage. You must know that on Sunday, Palmer wrote to Mr. W. H. Jones, a surgeon, of Lutterworth, desiring him to come over to see Cook. Cook was a personal friend of Mr. Jones, and had occasionally been in the habit of residing at his house. It is deserving of remark that Palmer, in his letter to Jones, describes Cook as “suffering from a severe bilious attack accompanied with diarrhœa,” adding, “it is desirable for you to come and see him as soon as possible.” Whether this communication is to be interpreted in a sense favourable to the prisoner, or whether it is to be taken as indicating a deep design to give colour to the idea that Cook died a natural death, it is at least certain that the statement that Cook had been “suffering from a bilious attack attended with diarrhœa,” was utterly untrue. Mr. Jones being himself unwell, did not come to Rugeley till Tuesday. He arrived at about three o’clock on that day, and immediately proceeded to see his sick friend. Palmer came in at the same moment, and they both examined the patient. Mr. Jones paid particular attention to the state of his tongue; remarked, “That is not the tongue of bilious fever.”

About seven o’clock that same evening Dr. Bamford called, and found the patient pretty well. Subsequently the three medical men (Palmer, Bamford, and Jones) held a consultation, but before leaving the bedroom for that purpose, Cook beckoned to Palmer, and said, “Mind, I will have no more pills or medicine to-night.” They then withdrew and consulted. Palmer insisted on his taking pills, but added, “Let us not tell him what they contain, as he fears the same results that have already given him such pain.” It was agreed that Dr. Bamford should make up the pills, which were to be composed of the same ingredients as those that had been administered on the three preceding evenings. The doctor repaired to his surgery, and made them up accordingly. He was followed by Palmer, who asked him to write the directions how they were to be taken. Dr. Bamford, though unable to understand the necessity of his doing so, under the circumstances, complied with Palmer’s request, and wrote on the box that the pills were to be taken at “bed-time.” Palmer then took them away, and gave either those pills or some others to Cook that night. It is remarkable, however, that half or three-quarters of an hour elapsed from the time he left Dr. Bamford’s surgery until he brought the pills to Cook. When, at length, he came, he produced two pills, but before giving them to Cook he took especial care to call Mr. Jones’s attention to the directions on the lid, observing that the writing was singularly distinct and vigorous for a man upwards of eighty. If the prisoner be guilty, it is a natural presumption that he made this observation with the view of identifying the pill-box as having come from Dr. Bamford, and so averting suspicion from himself. This was about half-past ten at night. The pills were then offered to Cook, who strongly objected to take them, remarking that they had made him ill the night before. Palmer insisted, and the sick man at last consented to take them. He vomited immediately after, but did not bring up the pills. Jones then went down and took his supper, and he will tell you that up to the period when the pills were administered, Cook had been easy and cheerful, and presented no symptom of the approach of disease, much less of death. It was arranged that Jones should sleep in the same room with Cook, and he did so; but he had not been more than fifteen or twenty minutes in bed when he was aroused by a sudden exclamation, and a frightful scream from Cook, who, starting up, said, “Send for the doctor immediately; I am going to be ill, as I was last night.” The chambermaid ran across the road, and rang the bell of Palmer’s house, and in a moment Palmer was at the window. He was told that Cook was again ill. In two minutes he was by the bedside of the sick man, and, strangely, volunteered the observation, “I never dressed so quickly in my life.” It is for you, gentlemen, to say whether you think he had time to dress at all. Cook was found in the same condition, and with the same symptoms as the night before, gasping for breath, screaming violently, his body convulsed with cramps and spasms, and his neck rigid. Jones raised him and rubbed his neck. When Palmer entered the room, Cook asked him for the same remedy that had relieved him the night before. “I will run back and fetch it,” said Palmer, and he darted out of the room. In the passage he met two female servants, who remarked that Cook was as “bad” as he had been last night. “He is not within fifty times as bad as he was last night; and what a game is this to be at every night!” was Palmer’s reply. In a few minutes he returned with two pills, which he told Jones were ammonia, though I am assured that it is a drug that requires much time in the preparation, and can with difficulty be made into pills. The sick man swallowed these pills, but brought them up again immediately.

And now ensued a terrible scene. He was instantly seized with violent convulsions; by degrees his body began to stiffen out; then suffocation commenced. Agonised with pain, he repeatedly entreated to be raised. They tried to raise him, but it was not possible. The body had become rigid as iron, and it could not be done. He then said, “Pray, turn me over.” They did turn him over on the right side. He gasped for breath, but could utter no more. In a few moments all was tranquil—the tide of life was ebbing fast. Jones leant over him to listen to the action of the heart. Gradually the pulse ceased—all was over—he was dead. (Sensation.) I will show you that his was a death referable in its symptoms to the tetanus produced by strychnine, and not to any other possible form of tetanus. Scarcely was the breath out of his body when Palmer begins to think of what is to be done. He engages two women to lay out the corpse, and these women, on entering the room, find him searching the pockets of a coat which, no doubt, belonged to Cook, and hunting under the pillows and bolsters. They saw some letters in the mantel-shelf, which, in all probability, had been taken out of the dead man’s pocket; and, what is very remarkable is, that from that day to this, nothing has been seen or heard either of the betting-book or of any of the papers connected with Cook’s money affairs. On a subsequent day (Thursday) he returned, and, on the pretence of looking for some books, and a paper knife, rummaged again through the documents of the deceased. On the 25th of November he sent for Cheshire, and, producing a paper purporting to bear the signature of Cook, asked him to attest it. Cheshire glanced over it. It was a document in which Cook acknowledged that certain bills, to the amount of £4,000 or thereabouts, were bills that had been negotiated for his (Cook’s) benefit, and in respect of which Palmer had received no consideration. Such was the paper to which, forty-eight hours after the death of the man whose name it bore, Palmer did not hesitate to ask Cheshire to be an attesting witness. Cheshire, though unfortunately for himself, too much the slave of Palmer, peremptorily refused to comply with this request; whereupon Palmer carelessly observed, “It is of no consequence; I dare say the signature will not be disputed, but it occurred to me that it would look more regular if it were attested.”

On Friday Mr. Stevens, Cook’s father-in-law, came down to Rugeley, and, after viewing the body of his relative, to whom he had been tenderly attached, asked Palmer about his affairs. Palmer assured him that he held a paper drawn up by a lawyer, and signed by Cook, stating that, in respect of £4,000 worth of bills, he (Cook) was alone liable, and that Palmer had a claim to that amount against his estate. Mr. Stevens expressed his amazement, and replied that there would not be 4,000 shillings for the holders of the bills. Subsequently Palmer displayed an eager officiousness in the matter of the funeral, taking upon himself to order a shell and an oak coffin without any directions to that effect from the relatives of the deceased, who were anxious to have the arrangements in their own hands. Mr. Stevens ordered dinner at the hotel for Bamford, Jones, and himself, and, finding Palmer still hanging about him, thought it but civil to extend the invitation to him. Accordingly they all sat down together. After dinner, Mr. Stevens asked Jones to step upstairs and bring down all books and papers belonging to Cook. Jones left the room to do so, and Palmer followed him. They were absent about ten minutes, and on their return Jones observed that they were unable to find the betting-book or any of the papers belonging to the deceased. Palmer added, “The betting-book would be of no use to you if you found it, for the bets are void by his death.” Mr. Stevens replied, “The book must be found;” and then Palmer, changing his tone, said, “Oh, I dare say it will turn up.” Mr. Stevens then rang the bell, and told the housekeeper to take charge of whatever books and papers had belonged to Cook, and to be sure not to allow any one to meddle with them until he came back from London, which he would soon do, with his solicitor. He then departed, but, returning to Rugeley after a brief interval, declared his intention to have a post mortem examination. Palmer volunteered to nominate the surgeons who should conduct it, but Mr. Stevens refused to employ any one whom he should recommend. On Sunday, the 26th, Palmer called on Dr. Bamford, and asked him for a certificate attesting the cause of Cook’s death. The doctor expressed his surprise, and observed, “Why, he was your patient?” But Palmer importuned him, and Bamford taking the pen filled up the certificate, and entered the cause of death as “apoplexy.” Dr. Bamford is upwards of 80, and I hope that it is to some infirmity connected with his great age that this most unjustifiable act is to be attributed. However, he shall be produced in court, and he will tell you that apoplexy has never been known to produce tetanus. In the course of the day Palmer sent for Newton, and after they had had some brandy-and-water, asked him how much strychnine he would use to kill a dog. Newton replied, “from half-a-grain to a grain.” “And how much,” inquired Palmer, “would be found in the tissues and intestines after death?” “None at all,” was Newton’s reply; but that is a point on which I will produce important evidence.

The post mortem examination took place the next day, and on that occasion Palmer assured the medical men, of whom there were many present, that Cook had had epileptic fits on Monday and Tuesday, and that they would find old disease in the heart and head. He added that the poor fellow was “full of disease,” and had “all kinds of complaints.” These statements were completely disproved by the post mortem examinations. At the first of them, conducted by Dr. Devonshire, the liver, lungs, and kidneys were all found healthy. It was said that there were some slight indications of congestion of the kidneys, whether due to decomposition or to what other cause was not certain; but it was admitted on all hands that they did not impair the general health of the system, or at all account for death. The stomach and intestines were examined, and they exhibited a few white spots at the large end of the stomach, but these marks were wholly insufficient to explain the cause of dissolution. Dr. Bamford contended that there was some slight congestion of the brain, but all the other medical men concurred in thinking that there was none at all. In the ensuing month of January the body was exhumed with a view to more accurate examination, and the body was then found to be in a perfectly normal and healthy condition. Palmer seemed rejoiced at the discovery, and, turning to Dr. Bamford, exclaimed, “Doctor, they won’t hang us yet!” The stomach and intestines were taken out and placed in a jar, and it was observed that Palmer pushed against the medical man who was engaged in the operation, and the jar was in danger of being upset. It escaped, however, and was covered with skins, tied down, and sealed. Presently one of the medical men turned round, and finding that the jar had disappeared, asked what had become of it. It was found at a distance, near a different door from that through which people usually passed in and out, and Palmer exclaimed, “It’s all right. It was I who removed it. I thought it would be more convenient for you to have it here, that you might lay your hands readily on it as you went out.” When the jar was recovered it was found that two slits had been cut in the skins with a knife. The slits, however, were clean, so that, whatever his object may have been in making the incisions, it is certain that nothing was taken out of the jar. He goes to Dr. Bamford, and remonstrates against the removal of the jars. He says, “I do not think we ought to allow them to be taken away.” Now, if he had been an ignorant person, not familiar with the course likely to be pursued by medical men under such circumstances, there might be some excuse for this; but it is for you to ask yourselves whether Palmer, himself a medical man, knowing that the contents of the jars were to be submitted to an analysis, might not have relied with confidence on the honour and integrity of the profession to which he belonged. You must say whether his anxiety to prevent the removal of the jars was not a sign of a guilty conscience. Dr. Bamford was a most respectable physician, and his character and position were well known to Palmer.

But the case does not stop here. The jar was delivered to Mr. Boycott, the clerk to Mr. Gardner, the solicitor. Palmer, finding that it was to be sent to London for chymical analysis, was extremely anxious that it should not reach its destination. It was going to be conveyed by Mr. Boycott to the Stafford station in a fly, driven by a post-boy. Palmer goes to this post-boy, and asks him whether it is the fact that he is going to drive Boycott to Stafford? He is answered in the affirmative. He then asks, “Are the jars there?” He is told that they are. He says, “They have no business to take them; one does not know what they may put in them. Can’t you manage to upset the fly and break them? I will give you £10, and make it all right for you.” The man said, “I shall do no such thing. I must go and look after my fly.” That man will be called before you, and he will have no interest to state anything but the truth. I have now gone through the painful history, yet there are some points of minor importance which I ought not altogether to pass over, as nothing connected with the conduct of a man conscious that an imputation of this kind rests upon him can be immaterial. After the post mortem examination it was thought right to hold a coroner’s inquest. On two or three occasions in the course of that inquiry, Palmer sent presents to the coroner. The stomach of the deceased and its contents were sent to Dr. Taylor, and Dr. Rees, at Guy’s Hospital, who were known to be in communication with Mr. Gardner. A letter was sent by Dr. Taylor to Mr. Gardner, stating the result of the investigation; that letter was betrayed to Palmer by the postmaster, Cheshire, and Palmer then wrote to the coroner, telling him that Dr. Taylor and Dr. Rees had failed in finding traces of poison, and asking him to take a certain course with respect to the evidence. Why should he have done this if there had not been a feeling of uneasiness upon his mind? These matters must not be wholly overlooked, although I will not ask you to give them any undue importance. I should have told you, in addition, that the prisoner had no money prior to Shrewsbury races, while afterwards he was flush of cash. Sums of £100 and £150 were paid by him into the bank at Rugeley, two or three persons received sums of £10 each, and he seemed, in fact, to be giving away money right and left. I think I shall be able to show that he had something like £400 in his possession. Now, Cook had £700 or £800 when he left Shrewsbury on the Thursday morning. None is found. It may be that Cook, who, whatever his faults, was a kind-hearted creature, compassionating Palmer’s condition, and influenced by his representations, assisted him with money. That I do not know. I do not wish to strain the point too far, but one cannot imagine that Cook, who had no money but what he took with him to Shrewsbury, should have given Palmer everything and left himself destitute.

The case then stands thus:—Here is a man overwhelmed with pecuniary difficulties, obliged to resort to the desperate expedient of forging acceptances to raise money, hoping to meet them by the proceeds of the insurances he had effected upon a life. Disappointed in that expectation by the board; told by the gentleman through whom the bills had been discounted, “You must trifle with me no longer—if you cannot find money, writs will be served on you;” Cook’s name forged to an endorsement for £375; ruin staring him in the face—you, gentlemen, must say whether he had not sufficient inducement to commit the crime. He seems to have had a further object. No sooner is the breath out of the dead man’s body than he says to Jones, “I had a claim of £3,000 or £4,000 against him on account of bills.” Besides, he believed that Cook had more property than it turns out he really had. The valuable mare, Pole Star, belonged to him when the assignment had been paid off, and Palmer would have been glad to obtain possession of her. The fact, too, that Cook was mixed up in the insurance of Bates may lead one to surmise that he was in possession of secrets relating to the desperate expedients to which this man has resorted to obtain money. I will leave you to say whether this combination of motives may not have led to the crime with which he is charged. This you will only have to consider, supposing the case to be balanced between probabilities; but if you believe the evidence that will be given as to what took place on the Monday and the Tuesday—if you believe the paroxysms of the Monday, the mortal agony of the Tuesday—I shall show that things were administered, on both those days, by the hand of Palmer, by a degree of evidence almost amounting to certainty.

The body was submitted to a careful analysis, and I am bound to say that no trace of strychnine was found. But I am told that, although the presence of strychnine may be detected by certain tests, and although indications of its presence lead irresistibly to the conclusion that it has been administered, the converse of that proposition does not hold. Sometimes it is found, at other times it is not. It depends upon circumstances. A most minute dose will destroy life, from half to three-quarters of a grain will lay the strongest man prostrate. But in order to produce that fatal effect it must be absorbed into the system, and the absorption takes place in a greater or less period according to the manner in which the poison is presented to the surfaces with which it comes in contact. If it is in a fluid form it is rapidly taken up and soon produces the effect; if not, it requires to be absorbed, and the effects are a longer time in showing themselves. But in either case there is a difficulty in discovering its presence. If it acts only on the nervous system through the circulation, an almost infinitesimal dose will be present. And, as it is a vegetable poison, the tests which alone can be employed are infinitely more delicate and difficult than those which are applied to other poisons. It is unlike a mineral poison, which can soon be detected and reproduced. If the dose has been a large one death ensues before the whole has been absorbed, and a portion is left in the intestines; but if a minimum dose has been administered a different consequence follows, and the whole is absorbed. Practical experience bears out the theory that I am enunciating. Experiments have been tried which show that where the same amount of poison has been administered to animals of the same species death will ensue in the same number of minutes, accompanied by precisely the same kinds of symptoms; while in the analysis afterwards made, the presence of poison will be detected in one case and not in another. It has been repeated over and over again that the scientific men employed in this case had come to the conclusion that the presence of strychnine cannot be detected by any tests known to science. They have been grievously misunderstood. They never made any such assertion. What they have asserted is this—the detection of its presence, where its administration is a matter of certainty, is a matter of the greatest uncertainty. It would, indeed, be a fatal thing to sanction the notion that strychnine, administered for the purpose of taking away life, cannot afterwards be detected! Lamentable enough is the uncertainty of detection! Happily, Providence, which has placed this fatal agent at the disposition of man, has marked its effects with characteristic symptoms distinguishable from those of all other agents by the eye of science.

It will be for you to say whether the testimony that will be laid before you with regard to those symptoms does not lead your mind to the conclusion that the deceased came to his death by poison administered to him by the prisoner. There is a circumstance which throws great light upon this part of the case. Some days before his death the man was constantly vomiting. The analysis made of his body failed to produce evidence of the presence of strychnine, but did not fail to produce evidence of the presence of antimony. Now, antimony was not administered by the medical men, and unless taken in a considerable quantity it produces no effect and is perfectly soluble. It is an irritant, which produces exactly the symptoms which were produced in this case. The man was sick for a week, and antimony was found in his body afterwards. For what purpose can it have been administered? It may be that the original intention was to destroy him by means of antimony—it may be that the only object was to bring about an appearance of disease so as to account for death. One is lost in speculation. But the question is whether you have any doubt that strychnine was administered on the Monday, and still more on the Tuesday when death ensued? And if you are satisfied with the evidence that will be adduced on that point, you must then determine whether it was not administered by the prisoner’s hand. I shall produce testimony before you in proof of the statements I have made, which I am afraid must occupy some considerable portion of your time; but in such an inquiry time cannot be wasted, and I am sure you will give it your most patient attention. I have the satisfaction of knowing that the prisoner will be defended by one of the most eloquent and able men who ever adorned the bar of this country or any other forum, and that everything will be done for him that can be done. If in the end all should fail in satisfying you of his guilt, in God’s name let not the innocent suffer! If, on the other hand, the facts that will be presented to you should lead you to the conclusion that he is guilty, the best interests of society demand his conviction.

The opening address of the Attorney-General occupied upwards of four hours in its delivery. At its conclusion (at a quarter past 2 o’clock) the jury retired for a short time for refreshment, and upon their return the following witnesses were called in support of the prosecution:—

Ismael Fisher, examined by Mr. E. James: I am a wine merchant at 4 Victoria-street, City. I am in the habit of attending races and betting. I knew John Parsons Cook. I had known him for about two years before his death. I was at Shrewsbury races in November, 1855. I remember the Shrewsbury Handicap. It was won by the mare called Polestar, the property of Cook. It took place on Tuesday, November the 13th. I saw Cook upon the course. He looked as well as he had looked at any time since I had known him. I was stopping at the Raven Hotel at Shrewsbury. I know Palmer (the prisoner) very well. I have known him rather more than two years. Cook and Palmer were stopping at the same hotel, and occupied a room separated from mine only by a wooden partition. It was a sitting room, and they occupied it jointly. On the Wednesday night, between 11 and 12 o’clock, I went into the sitting-room. I found there Cook, Palmer, and Mr. Myatt, a saddler at Rugeley, a friend of Palmer’s. They had grog before them. I was asked to sit down by Cook, and I sat down. Cook asked Palmer to have some more brandy-and-water. Palmer said, “I will not have any more till you have drunk yours.” Cook said, “Then I will drink mine.” He took up his glass and drank the grog off immediately. He said within a minute afterwards, “There is something in it; it burns my throat dreadfully.” Palmer then got up, took the glass, sipped up what was left in it, and said, “There is nothing in it.” There was not more than a teaspoonful in the glass when he emptied it. In the mean time Mr. Read had come in. Palmer handed the glass to Read and to me, and asked if we thought there was anything in it. We both said the glass was so empty that we could not recognise anything. I said I thought there was rather a strong scent upon it, but I could not say it arose from anything but brandy.

Lord Campbell: Did you put your lips to it?

Witness: I did not. It was completely drained. Within ten minutes I retired. Cook had left the room, and then came back and called me from it. We went to my own sitting room. He there told me he was very ill and very sick, and asked me to take his money.

Mr. E. James: Did he state what he was suffering from?

Mr. Serjeant Shee objected to this question.

Lord Campbell: Surely his statement of the effect produced on him by what he had just swallowed is admissible.

Witness: He said he was very sick, and he thought “that d—— Palmer” had dosed him. He handed me over some money, between £700 and £800, in bank notes, to take care of. He did not sleep in the same room with Palmer. He was seized with vomiting after he had given me the money, and left the room. He afterwards came back to my room, and again complained of what he had been suffering. He asked me to go to his bedroom. I went with him. Mr. Jones, a law-stationer, went with me. He then vomited again violently, and was so ill that I sent for a doctor—Mr. Gibson, who came about half-past twelve or a quarter to one. I remained with Cook till two o’clock. I sent for Mr. Gibson a second time, and he sent some medicine, which Cook took. After seeing the doctor and taking the medicine he became more composed. Mr. Jones and I gave him the medicine. Next morning, about ten o’clock, I saw Palmer. I found him in my sitting-room when I came down stairs; he said, “Cook has been stating that I gave him something in his brandy. I never play such tricks with people. But I can tell you what he was. He was d——d drunk.” I should say Cook was certainly not drunk.

Lord Campbell: Was he affected by liquor?

Witness: Not at all approaching drunkenness, my lord. Cook came into my bedroom before I was up the same morning. He was much better, but still looked ill. I gave him back his money. About three o’clock on that day (Thursday) I saw Cook on the race-course. He looked very ill. I had always settled Cook’s bets for him when he did not settle them himself. I saw his betting-book in his hand. It was dark in colour, and about half the size of this. (The witness here produced a small black pocketbook). On the 17th of November (Saturday), by Cook’s request, I paid Pratt £200. His account, in the ordinary course, would have been settled at Tattersall’s on Monday, the 19th. I advanced the £200 to pay Pratt. I knew that Cook had won at Shrewsbury, and I should have been entitled to deduct that £200 from his winnings, if I had settled his account at Tattersall’s. I did not settle that account, and I have not been paid my advance.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee.—I had known Cook about two years, and Palmer longer. They were a good deal connected in racing transactions.

Do you know that they were partners?—I don’t remember settling any transactions in which they were jointly interested, and I don’t know that they owned horses jointly. They appeared very intimate and were much together, generally staying at the same hotels. I was not at the Worcester meeting. I don’t know whether Palmer won at Shrewsbury as well as Cook. The races began on the Tuesday about 2 o’clock. Polestar ran about an hour afterwards, but I cannot tell the exact time. I saw Cook on the course after the race, and he appeared much elated. Polestar won easily. In the evening, when I went into the sitting-room, there was a candle on the table. A glass was ordered for me when I sat down. I don’t remember drinking anything, but I cannot swear that I did not. I am a good judge of brandy by the smell. I said there was nothing particular in the smell, but the glass was so completely drained, that there was very little to smell. I counted the money Cook gave me. I had been at the Unicorn that evening quite an hour before. I dined at the Raven about 6 o’clock. I did not see Cook after the race on the Wednesday, till I saw him at the Unicorn, between 9 and 10 o’clock in the evening. I merely looked into the room. I saw Sandars, the trainer, Cook, Palmer, and a lady. I can’t say whether they were drinking.

Did it happen that a good many people were ill on that Wednesday at Shrewsbury—I mean people connected with the races? No. I don’t know that there were. On the Wednesday it was damp underfoot, but I forget whether it rained. I saw Cook several times on the course. On the Thursday the weather was cold and damp. I don’t know that Cook and Palmer breakfasted together on the Thursday morning. On the 17th of November I received a letter from Cook. [The letter was read. It was dated, “Rugeley, Nov. the 16th,” and in it Cook said it was of very great importance to Palmer and to himself that £500 should be paid to Pratt on the next day, that £300 should be sent, and he would be greatly obliged if Fisher would pay the other £200 immediately on receipt of the letter, promising to give it him back on the following Monday at Tattersall’s. He added that he was much better.]

Re-examined by the Attorney-General: I never intended to say that Cook and Palmer were partners.

Did you notice any change of feeling on the part of Cook towards Palmer?—He never had any great respect for Palmer, but I did notice a change in him. It was a handicap race that Polestar won. Palmer had a horse called Chicken, which ran on the Thursday and lost. He had betted upon the race. Cook was not more elated at winning than people usually are. I am not sure that I drank any brandy-and-water while I was staying at the Raven.

Thomas Jones, examined by Mr. Welsby, said: I am a law stationer in Carey-street, London. I was at Shrewsbury races last November, and I lodged at the Raven. I arrived there on a Monday night. I supped with Cook, Herring, Fisher and Gravatt. Cook appeared well. I saw him on the Tuesday and Wednesday, and he then also seemed quite well. Fisher and I went to the Raven between eleven and twelve o’clock on Wednesday night. Read was there, and he invited Cook into my room. Palmer was also there. After the party broke up, Fisher came and told me something about Cook, in consequence of which I went with him to Cook’s bedroom. He complained of something burning at his throat and of vomiting. Some medicine was brought,—pills and a draught. Cook refused to take the pills. I then went to the doctor’s and got some liquid medicine, and gave him a small quantity in a wineglass. He was in bed. About a quarter of an hour afterwards he took the pills also, and I left him. Between six and seven o’clock next morning I saw him again. He said he felt easier and better. He looked pale.

This witness was not cross-examined.

George Read, examined by Mr. Bodkin: I live in Victoria-street, near Farringdon-market. I keep a house frequented by sporting characters. I am acquainted with Palmer. I saw him at Shrewsbury races on Tuesday, as well as Cook. He appeared to be in his usual health. I saw him also the next day, and he was apparently in the same health. I stayed at the Raven. On the Wednesday night I went between eleven and twelve into the room in which were Palmer and Cook. There was more than one gentleman in the room. I had some brandy-and-water there. I saw that Cook was in pain almost immediately after I entered. He said to us there is something in the brandy-and-water. Palmer handed me the glass after it had been emptied. I said, “What is the use of examining a glass which is empty?” I believe Cook left the room. I did not see him again. I saw him on the following morning at eleven o’clock. He was in his sitting-room. He said in my hearing that he was very ill.

Cross-examined: On Tuesday he was as well as usual. He never looked a strong man, but one having delicate health. He was not in the habit of complaining of ill-health.

By the Court: I had some of the brandy-and-water, and it did not make me ill.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General: My brandy was taken from another decanter, which was sent for when I went in. Cook appeared to be a delicate man, but I never knew anything to be the matter with him. He frequented races everywhere. I never knew him prevented by illness from going to races.

William Scaife Gibson: I am assistant to Mr. Heathcote, surgeon, of Shrewsbury. On the 14th of November last I was sent for, and went to the Railway Hotel, Shrewsbury, between twelve and one o’clock at night. I saw Mr Cook there. He was in his bedroom, but not in bed. He complained of pain in his stomach, and heat in his throat. He also said he thought he had been poisoned. I felt his pulse and looked at his tongue, which was perfectly clean. He appeared much distended about the abdomen. I recommended an emetic. He said that he could make himself sick with warm water. I sent the waitress for some. She brought about a pint. I recommended him to use a feather. He said he could do it with the handle of a toothbrush. He drank all the warm water. Having used the toothbrush he was sick. I examined the vomit; it was perfectly clear. I then told him I would send him some medicine. I sent him two pills and a draught. The pills were a compound rhubarb pill and a three-grain calomel pill. They were ordered to be taken immediately, and the draught, which was sennica—a compound of senna, magnesia, and aromatic spirit—was to be taken twenty minutes afterwards. It was what is called a black draught. Half an hour afterwards I gave to Jones, for Cook, an anodyne draught. I did not see Cook afterwards.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee: Did you form any opinion as to what was the matter with Cook?—I treated it as a case of poisoning.

Did you observe anything in the vomit which led you to believe he had been poisoned?—Nothing at all.

Did he appear to have been drinking?—He appeared to be a little excited, but he was quite sensible what he was doing and saying.

By “excited” do you mean to say he was tipsy?—No; but his brain had been stimulated with brandy-and-water. The idea of having taken poison would have some effect upon it.

In your judgment, was what you had prescribed a good thing, supposing Cook had taken poison?—According to the symptoms, I should say it was.

Would it not have been better to get the poison up at once, if possible?—He threw up the warm water.

Lord Campbell: Did that cleanse the stomach?—Yes.

Cross-examination continued: Yet you thought calomel necessary?—Yes; on account of the distended state of the bowels.

Did you see anything like bile in the basin?—There was some on the edge of the basin, but it must have been thrown up before he took the warm water.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General: The piece of bile was about the size of a pea? The water thrown up was perfectly clean. Cook’s tongue was quite clean.

Is that usual in the case of a bilious attack?—If the stomach had been wrong any length of time the tongue would have been discoloured.

Elizabeth Mills examined by Mr. James: In November last I was chambermaid at the Talbot Arms, Rugeley. I had been so about two years. I knew the prisoner Palmer, who was in the habit of coming to the Talbot Arms. I also knew Cook, the deceased. On Thursday, the 15th of November, he came to the Talbot Arms. He came between nine and ten o’clock at night. The prisoner was with him. They came in a fly. Cook went to bed at half-past ten o’clock. When Cook arrived he said he had been poorly, and was poorly then. I don’t remember seeing Palmer after he got out of the fly. About twelve o’clock on the following day I took Cook some hot water, and he went out about one o’clock. He then appeared poorly. He said he felt no worse, but was not well. He returned about ten o’clock in the evening. In about half an hour he went to bed. I asked him if he felt any worse than when he went out in the morning. He said he did not. He said that he had been dining with Palmer. He was perfectly sober. He asked me for an extra piece of candle to read by. I saw no more of him that night. On Saturday morning, about eight o’clock, I saw Palmer at the Talbot Arms. I do not know whether Cook had sent for him. Palmer ordered from me a cup of coffee for Cook. I gave it to Cook in the bedroom. I believe Palmer was then in the room. I left the coffee in Cook’s hands, but did not see him drink it. Afterwards I went upstairs, and found the coffee in the chamber utensil. That might be an hour, or it might be a couple of hours after I had taken up the coffee. The utensil was on the table by the side of the bed. I do not remember that I spoke to Palmer, nor he to me, about this. I did not see any toast and water in the bed-room; but a jug, not belonging to the inn, was about ten o’clock in the evening sent down for some fresh toast-and-water. The waitress, Lavinia Barnes, brought it down. I am sure the jug, which was brought down from Cook’s room, did not belong to the Talbot Arms. I saw Palmer go in and out of Cook’s room, perhaps, four or five times on that Saturday. I heard Palmer tell Cook that he would send him over some broth. I saw some broth in the kitchen, which some person had brought there ready made. After Barnes had taken some broth up, ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after the broth came over, I met Palmer going upstairs towards Cook’s room. He asked if Mr. Cook had had his broth? I told him I was not aware that any had come for him. While I was speaking, Lavinia Barnes came out of the commercial-room, and said she had taken the broth up to Cook when it came, but that he refused to take it, saying it would not stay on his stomach. Palmer said that I must go and fetch the broth; he (Cook) must have it. I fetched the broth and took it into Cook’s room. Palmer was there. I cannot say whether it was to him or Cook that I gave the broth, but I left it there. I am sure that this was some of the broth which had been sent in. Some time afterwards (about an hour or two), I went up to Cook’s room again, and found that the broth had been vomited. About six o’clock in the evening, some barley-water was made for Cook. I took it up to him. I cannot say whether Palmer was with him. I cannot say whether or not that barley-water stayed upon Cook’s stomach. At eight o’clock in the evening some arrowroot was made in the kitchen. I took it up to Cook. I cannot say whether Palmer was there, nor can I remember whether the arrowroot remained on Cook’s stomach.