Chapter 8

“Definition.—Violent and involuntary contractions of a part or of the whole of the body, sometimes with rigidity and tension (tonic convulsions), but more frequently with tumultuous agitations, consisting of alternating shocks (clonic convulsions), that come on suddenly, either in recurring or in distant paroxysms, and after irregular and uncertain intervals.”

The article then goes on:—

“If we take the character of the spasm in respect of permanency, rigidity, relaxation, and recurrence as a basis of arrangement of all the diseases attended by abnormal action of voluntary muscles, we shall have every grade, passing imperceptibly from the most acute form of tetanus through cramp, epilepsy, eclampsia, convulsions, &c., down to the most atonic states of chorea and tremor.”

As to the premonitory symptoms, it says:—

“The premonitory signs of general convulsions are (inter alia), vertigo and dizziness, irritability of temper, flushings, or alternate flushing and paleness of the face, nausea, retching or vomiting, or pain and distension of stomach and left hypochondrium, unusual flatulence of the stomach and bowels, or other dyspeptic symptoms.”

In further describing these convulsions, the article says:—

“In many instances the general sensibility and consciousness are but very slightly impaired, particularly in the more simple cases, and when the proximate cause is not seated in the encephalon; but in proportion as this part is affected, primarily or consecutively, and the neck and face tumid and livid, the cerebral functions are obscured, and the convulsions attended by stupor, delirium, &c., or rapidly pass into, or are followed by, these states.”

Then, it adds:—

“The paroxysm may cease in a few moments or minutes, or continue for some or even many hours. It generally subsides rapidly, the patient experiencing, at its termination, fatigue, headache, or stupor; but he is usually restored in a short time to the same state as before the seizure, which is liable to recur in a person once affected, but at uncertain intervals. After repeated attacks the fit sometimes becomes periodic (theconvulsio recurrensof authors.)”

And, in detailing the origin of these convulsions, it says:—

“The most common causes are (inter alia), all emotions of the mind which excite the nervous power, and determine the blood to the head, as joy, anger, religious enthusiasm, excessive desire, &c., or those which greatly depress the nervous influence, as well as diminish and derange the actions of the heart, as fear, terror, anxiety, sadness, distressing intelligence, frightful dreams, &c.—the syphilitic poison and repulsion of gout or rheumatism.”

Do you believe, if Dr. Taylor had read that before the inquest, that he would have dared to say that the man died from strychnine? Is there one single symptom in the statement made in the depositions by Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones which may not be classed under one of the varieties of convulsions which Dr. Copland describes? It is not for me to suggest a theory; but the gentlemen whom I shall call before you—men of the highest eminence in their profession, and not mere hospital surgeons, who have seen nothing of this nature but traumatic tetanus—will tell you that Mr. Cook’s symptoms were those of general convulsions, and not of tetanus. My belief is—and I hope you will confirm it by your verdict—that Mr. Cook’s complaint was not tetanus at all, although it may well have been—according to the descriptions to which I shall call your attention—some form of traumatic or idiopathic tetanus, there being no broad, general distinction or certain confine between idiopathic, or self-generating tetanus, and many forms of convulsions. The tetanic form of convulsions is pretty much the same thing as idiopathic tetanus; and when we are told by medical witnesses that they never saw a case of idiopathic tetanus, my answer to that is that they must have had a very limited experience. It is not a disease of very frequent occurrence, it is true; but there are gentlemen here who have seen cases of idiopathic tetanus, and they are by no means of that rare occurrence which has been represented to you by the witnesses for the prosecution. There is one gentleman here, of very large practice at Leeds, whom I shall call before you, who attended at the bedside of Mrs. Dove, who has himself seen four cases of idiopathic tetanus. Traumatic tetanus very frequently occurs in hospitals—in fact, it often supervenes upon the operations of the surgeon; but the persons to give you correct information upon idiopathic tetanus are the general practitioners who enjoy the confidence of families, and who have the opportunity of visiting at their dwellings, both rich and poor, when they are attacked by any of those convulsive diseases or fits which heads of families and brothers and sisters are so careful not to disclose to the world at large. Dr. Watson is a general practitioner, and he says in hisLectures on the Principles and Practice of Physic, that most cases of tetanus may be traced to one of two causes—which are, exposure to the cold or sudden alternations of temperature, and bodily injury. “It has been known to arise,” he says, “from causes so slight as these,—the sticking of a fishbone in the fauces, the air caused by a musket shot, the stroke of a whip-lash under the eye, leavingthe skin unbroken, the cutting of a corn, the biting of the finger by a tame sparrow, the blow of a stick on the neck, the insertion of a seton, the extraction of a tooth, the injection of a hydrocele, and the operation of cupping.” He goes on to say that when the disease arises from exposure to the cold or damp it comes on earlier than on other occasions—often in a few hours—so that if the exposure takes place in the night, the complaint may begin to manifest itself next morning. He also says that, although tetanus may be occasioned by a wound, independently of exposure to cold, or by exposure to cold without bodily injury, there is good reason for thinking that in many instances one of the causes would fail to produce it where both together would call it forth.

Dr. Watson adds that, although the pathology of tetanus is obscure, we may fairly come to the conclusion that the symptoms are the result of some peculiar condition of the spinal cord, produced and kept up by irritation of the substance, and that the brain is not involved in the disease; the modern French writers upon the disease hold that it is an inflammable complaint, and that it consists essentially of inflammation of the spinal marrow. Now, who shall say that those symptoms which were spoken to on the day of the inquest by Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones may not be ranged under one of those forms of tetanus? Idiopathic tetanus is so like general convulsions that in many cases it cannot be distinguished from them; and to such an extent is this so that Dr. Copland states that convulsions frequently assume a tetanic appearance. It is true that traumatic tetanus begins in four cases out of five by a seizure of the lower jaw; but then in the fifth case it does not so commence; and Sir B. Brodie mentions two instances in which it began in the limb which was wounded. Now, having gone so far, and having endeavoured to satisfy you that the symptoms which were spoken to by those two witnesses in their depositions may be, as I am told and instructed that they are, rather referable to a violent description of general convulsions than to any form of tetanus, let us proceed to inquire whether or not the symptoms are consistent with what we know of tetanus produced by strychnine; because, if you shall be satisfied, upon full investigation, that they are not consistent with the symptoms, which are the unquestionable result of strychnia tetanus, then the hypothesis of the Crown entirely fails and John Parsons Cook can’t have died of strychnine poison. Whether that be so or not will depend in a great degree, as it strikes me—although, of course, that will be for you to decide upon what you think of the evidence of Elizabeth Mills; but, before I go to that evidence, I will call your attention to the description of strychnia tetanus as given by two very eminent gentlemen, Dr. Taylor and Dr. Christison, who were called for the Crown the other day; and, if you find from their description that strychnia tetanus is a different thing from the picture first given of the attack and paroxysms by Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones, you will, I think, have great difficulty in determining that Mr. Cook died from strychnine.

Let us first take Dr. Taylor’s description of strychnia tetanus. I am not sure whether he stated that he had ever seen a case of strychnia tetanus in a human subject; but we must be just to Dr. Taylor. He has had large and extensive reading on the subject on which he writes, and it is not to be supposed that he has set down in his book what he has not found established upon respectable authority. Therefore, although we have it secondhand in the book, we must suppose that Dr. Taylor knows something of the subject. In his work upon strychnia poisoning, Dr. Taylor says, “that in from five to twenty minutes after the poison has been swallowed the patient is suddenly seized with tetanic symptoms affecting the whole of the muscular system, the body becoming rigid, the limbs stretched out, and the jaws so fixed that considerable difficulty is experienced in introducing anything into the mouth.” But, according to the statement of the witnesses, Mr. Cook was sitting up in bed, beating the bedclothes, talking, frequently telling the people about him to go for Palmer, asking for “the remedy,” and ready to swallow whatever was given him. There was no “considerable difficulty in introducing anything into the mouth,” and the paroxysm, instead of beginning within “from five to twenty minutes after the poison was supposed to have been swallowed” did not begin for an hour and a half afterwards. Dr. Taylor further on states, “After several such attacks, increasing in severity, the patient dies asphyxiated.” Now I submit, although there are some of these systems in this case, as there will be in every case of violent convulsions, that this is not a description of the case of John Parsons Cook.

The other medical authority to whom I said I should refer is Dr. Christison. He says that the symptoms produced by strychnine are very uncommon and striking—the animal begins to tremble, and is seized with stiffness and a starting of the limbs. Those symptoms increase, till at length the animal is attacked by general spasms. The fit is then succeeded by an interval of calm, during which the senses are impaired or are unnaturally acute; but another paroxysm soon sets in, and then another and another, until at last a fit occurs more violent than any that had preceded it, and the animal perishes suffocated. Now, who can say that that description at all tallies with the account of Mr. Cook’s symptoms? I know exactly what Dr. Christison means by this description, because I have had the advantage of having had several experiments performed in my presence by Dr. Letheby, which enable me to understand it. One of these experiments was this:—A dog had a grain of strychnine put into his mouth, and for about 20 or 25minutes he remained perfectly well. Suddenly he fell down upon his side, and his legs were stretched out in a most violent way. He was as stiff as it was possible to be. In that state the dog remained, with an occasional jerk, for two or three minutes. In a short time he recovered and got up, but he appeared to be dizzy and uncomfortable, and was afraid to move. If you touched him he shrunk and twitched, and after another minute down he went again. He got up again and fell down again, and at last he had a tremendous struggle, and then he died. That is what Dr. Christison means by his description. If the dose had not been sufficient to kill the dog it would have been longer in producing an effect; the paroxysms would have occurred at more distant intervals, and they would have been less and less severe until the animal recovered. But if the dose be strong enough to kill, the interval between the paroxysms is short, and at last one occurs which is strong enough to kill. Just before the animal dies the limbs become as supple and free as it is possible to conceive the limbs of an animal to be. Whichever way you put the limbs of the animal after it is quite dead, the rigor mortis comes on after a time, and they remain in any position in which they are placed. I saw an experiment performed also upon two rabbits. The symptoms were substantially the same; the limbs of both of them were quite flaccid immediately upon death; and during the intervals between the paroxysms the animals shuddered and were extremely “touchy.” Now, gentlemen, I will give you my reasons for saying that, according to their own principle, as adduced in evidence by the Crown.

Mr. Cook’s death cannot have resulted from strychnia poison. I object to the theory of it having resulted from strychnia poison—first, on the ground that no case can be found in the books, in which, while the paroxysms lasted, the patient had so much command over the muscles of animal life and voluntary motion as Mr. Cook had upon Monday and Tuesday night. The evidence is, that he was sitting up in his bed beating the bedclothes, calling out, and that, so far from being afraid of people touching him, he actually asked to have his neck rubbed; and it was rubbed. I now come to the next reason why we say that death in this case did not result from strychnine poison; and I assert that there is no authentic case of tetanus from strychnine in which the paroxysm was delayed so long after the ingestion of the poison as it was in Mr. Cook’s case. Dr. Taylor says, in page 74 of his book, that from five to twenty minutes after the poison has been swallowed the tetanic symptoms commence; and then, in support of this statement, he proceeds to cite a number of cases. One young lady was “instantly deprived of the power of walking, and fell down.” In the next case, which was that of a girl, “tetanic symptoms came on in half an hour.” The next is a German case, taken from theLancet, and there a young man, aged 17, was “attacked in about a quarter of an hour.” Then there is the case of Dr. Warner, who took half a grain of sulphate of strychnine, and died in fifteen minutes. Then there is the case of a young woman who took two or three drachms ofnux vomica, and died in between thirty and forty minutes. Another case is given by Dr. Watson in his book, which he himself observed in the Middlesex Hospital, where strychnine pills, intended for paralytic patients, were taken by mistake. One-twelfth of a grain was intended to be administered every six hours; but unluckily a whole grain was given at one time, about 7 o’clock in the evening, and in half an hour it began to exhibit its effects. Dr. Watson says, that “any attempt at movement—even touching the patient by another person—brought on a recurrence of the symptoms.” It is clear, then, from all these cases, that the interval which elapsed between the supposed ingestion of the poison and the commencement of the paroxysm was much too long—three times too long to warrant the supposition that strychnia poison had been taken in this case. Thirdly, I submit—and I shall prove—that there is no case in which the recovery from a paroxysm of strychnine poison has been so rapid as it was in Cook’s case upon Monday night, or in which a patient has endured so long an interval of repose or exemption from its symptoms afterwards. In this case of Mr. Cook, according to the theory of the Crown, the paroxysms would not have been repeated at all if a second dose had not been given. There was an end of it when Elizabeth Mills left Palmer sleeping by the side of his friend in an arm-chair; how easy would it have been then, if he had been so disposed, to administer another dose, and to have hurried into Elizabeth Mill’s room, and called out that Cook was in another fit?

Dr. Taylor says in his book, that the patient is suddenly seized with spasms affecting the whole system, and that after several such attacks, increasing in severity, the patient dies asphyxiated. Dr. Christison holds precisely the same language; but I submit that here there is a broad distinction between the case of Cook and that which these gentlemen state to be the distinguishing feature of the disease. I now come to thepost-mortemexamination. Dr. Letheby was good enough to dig up from his garden, in order that I might see it, an animal which had been killed by strychnine, with a view to this inquiry, a month before, and to examine the heart before me. The heart of that animal was quite full. The heart also of the dog that was killed in my presence was quite full, and so were the hearts of both the rabbits that I saw killed. Now, I am told by a gentleman, whom I shall call before you, who is not afraid of dogs—and remember that this is rather a matter for experiment than of theory,—I am told that the result of an enormously large proportion of such examinations—and, indeed, of all of them if they be properly conducted—is, that the heart is invariably full. At the same time, I am told that if the examiners do the thing clumsily, they may contrive to get an empty heart. If there be any doubt in your minds, however, as to the heart being full in these cases, I hope that some morning you will desire that a reasonable number of animals should be brought into one of the yards here, and that you will see them die by strychnine, and examine their hearts, and form an opinion for yourselves. I have now discussed what may be said to be the theory of these matters; but I have not yet met the strong point which was made by the Crown of the evidence of Elizabeth Mills. I, upon all occasions, am most reluctant to attack a witness who is examined upon his or her oath, and particularly if he be in a humble position of life. I am very reluctant to impute perjury to such a person; and I think that a man who has been as long in the profession as I have been must, in most cases, be put a little to his wits’ end when he rushes upon the assumption that a person whose statements have, after a considerable lapse of time, materially varied, is therefore necessarily, deliberately perjured.

The truth is, we know perfectly well that if a considerable interval of time occurs between the first story and the second story, and if the intelligent and respectable persons who are anxious to investigate the truth, but who still have a strong moral conviction—upon imperfect information—of the guilt of an accused person, will talk to witnesses and say, “Was there anything of this kind?” or “anything of that kind?” the witnesses at last catch hold of the phrase or term which has been so often used to them, and having in that way adopted it, they fancy that they may tell it in court. This might have been the case with Elizabeth Mills; and let me point out to you what occurs to me to be the right opinion that you should form of that witness. I submit to you that in this case of life and death—or, indeed, in any case involving a question of real importance to liberty or to property—that young woman’s evidence would not be relied on. In the ordinary administration of justice in the civil courts, if a person has upon material points told two different stories juries are rarely willing to believe that person; and in criminal cases the learned judges, without altogether rejecting the evidence, point out to the jury the discrepancies which have taken place, and submit whether, under all the circumstances, it would be safe to rely upon the testimony last given, differing from the statement which was made when the impression was fresh upon the witness’s mind. It cannot be said in this case that Elizabeth Mills was not fully and fairly examined. I submit that my learned friend the Attorney-General really made a false point—the most unfortunate in the course of the prosecution—in attacking, upon this ground, the coroner, Mr. Ward. Just place yourselves, gentlemen, for a moment in the position of the coroner; and, to enable you the better to do so, just recollect what has passed in the course of this trial in this court; recollect, if you can, how many questions have been put by my learned friends and by me on account of which it has been necessary for counsel to interpose and to ask the learned judges whether the question was a proper one. Our rules of examination are strict, but they are most beneficial, because they exclude from the minds of the jury that loose and general sort of information which, in country towns especially, is the subject of pot-house stories and market gossip, and substitute for it the evidence of actual facts which have been seen and are deposed to by the witnesses. Imagine the coroner in a large room at a tavern, just under the bed-room where poor Cook died—a crowd of excited villagers in the room, all full of suspicion produced by the inquiries of the Prince of Wales Insurance-office about Walter Palmer—and Inspector Field there, and Inspector Simpson—and all impressed with the belief that whatever the London doctor said must be true, and that if Dr. Alfred Swayne Taylor had made up his mind that it was poison, poison it was. The whole town was in a state of uproar and excitement. Every question that occurred to everybody must be put before the coroner—“Didn’t you hear so and so?” “Didn’t somebody tell you that some one had said so and so?” and so on. How is it possible under such circumstances to conduct an inquiry with the dignity and decorum that are observed in the superior courts?

There was a celebrated trial some years ago in France, in which I remember to have taken great interest, of the ministers of King Charles X. Upon that occasion one witness actually proved that he had read all the pamphlets that had been published on the subject, and he came forward to state what, upon the whole, was the result which those pamphlets had made upon his mind. It is true that that was in revolutionary times, but it shows to what an extent the introduction of a loose system of questioning may go. I don’t say that Dr. Taylor suggested any but proper questions, but you must consider the difficulties under which the coroner had to labour, and I am told that he is an exceedingly good lawyer and a most respectable man. Dr. Taylor said that the coroner’s omission to ask questions arose, in his opinion, rather from want of knowledge than from intention. Of course the coroner would not be likely to know the proper questions to put in such a case, but when he did know them he seems to have put them. He was right in refusing to put irrelevant questions to gratify an inquisitive juryman; we are ourselves constantly being rebuked by the learned judges, and told to adhere to the rules, and not to put questions which are irrelevant. I have now pointed out such discrepancies in the evidence given by Mills before the coroner and before you as will, I think, make it clear to you that you cannot rely upon her testimony. Since she first gave her evidence she has had the means ofknowing what is the case on the part of the Crown. I do not mean to say she has been tutored by the Crown; I believe that my learned friend would not have called her if he thought she had; but she has had an opportunity of discovering by interviews with several different people that the case for the prosecution is, that Palmer having first prepared the body of Cook for deadly poison by the poison of antimony, afterwards despatched him with the deadly poison of strychnine. Their case is, that there was an administration of something which had the effect of producing retching, nausea, and irritation of the stomach. Those symptoms are therefore attributed to the persevering intention of the prisoner to reduce Cook to such a state of weakness that, when once ingestion of the poison occurred, he was sure to be carried off. In her evidence before the coroner she was asked whether she had tasted the broth? She said she had, and she thought it very good. She did not then say anything about the ill effects the broth had produced; but she has since learnt that it is part of the case of those out of whose hands the Crown has taken the prosecution, and that it is the theory of Dr. Taylor that all this retching and vomiting was the result of a constant dosing with antimonial poison. She has probably been frequently asked whether she was not sick after drinking the broth; perhaps she may have been sick on some Sunday or another, and she has persuaded herself—for I do not wish to impute perjury to her—that she was made sick by the two table-spoonfuls of broth which she drank.

Is it not to the last degree incredible that a shrewd, intelligent man like Palmer should have exposed himself to such a chance of detection as sending broth which he had poisoned from his house, to stand by the kitchen fire of the Talbot Arms, when, sure as fate, the cook would taste it? Did you ever know a cook who would not taste broth sent by another person and said to be particularly good? It is not in the nature of things. A cook is a taster, she tastes everything, and Palmer must have known that as sure as ever he sent into the kitchen broth containing antimony the cook would take it and be ill. Her statement is not credible and cannot be relied on. Then she said in her evidence before the coroner that on Saturday Cook had coffee and vomited directly he swallowed it, and that up to the time she gave him the coffee she had not seen Palmer. She was not then aware that the theory of the gradual preparation of the body by antimony was to fit into the theory of death from strychnine, but by the time she came here she had become acquainted with that part of the case. My learned friend stated that, “Palmer 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.” There is all the difference between this statement of my learned friend and that first made by Mills before the coroner. But the young woman did not go quite so far as that. She went however to this extent:—“Palmer came over at 8 o’clock and ordered a cup of coffee for Cook. I gave it to him. I believe Palmer was in the bedroom at the time. I did not see him drink it. I observed afterwards that the coffee had been vomited.” Her statement was not so strong as that of my learned friend, but a great deal stronger than the one she made before the coroner. The two statements are essentially different, and the difference between them consists in this—the one supports the theory suggested by the prosecution, the other is totally inconsistent with it. Can you rely on a woman who makes such alterations in her testimony? That is not all. The case suggested for the Crown now is, that Cook expressed reluctance to take the pills ordered for him, and that his reluctance was overruled by Palmer. Mills’s first statement was that Cook said the pills made him ill. Here she said that the pills which Palmer gave him made him ill. Before the coroner, too, she did not say that Palmer was in the bedroom between 9 and 10 on Monday night, as she has stated here. She makes him more about the bedside of the man, she gives him a greater opportunity of administering pills and medicine, she shows ananimus, the result, according to the most charitable construction that can be put upon it, of a persuasion that Palmer must be guilty, but still ananimuswhich shows that she is not to be relied on. How easily may persons in her condition make mistakes without intending to deceive! It is the just punishment of all falsehood that when a lie has once been told it cannot be retracted without humiliation, and when once this young woman had been induced to vary her statement in a material particular she had not the moral courage to set herself right.

But the particulars I have mentioned are nothing to those to which I will now call your attention. I impeach her testimony on the ground that she here gesticulated and gave her evidence in such a manner that if it had been natural and she had adopted it at the inquest it must have attracted the attention of Dr. Taylor. The remarkable contortions into which she put her hands, her mouth, and her neck would, if they had been observed at the inquest, have been reduced to verbal expression, and recorded in the depositions. I am told by Dr. Nunneley, Dr. Robinson, and other gentlemen, that the symptoms she described are inconsistent with any known disease. There was an extraordinary grouping of symptoms, some of them quite consistent with tetanus produced by strychnine administered under peculiar circumstances, others quite inconsistent with it. Now, in the last week in February a frightful case of strychnine occurred in Leeds. A person having the means of access to the bedside of a patient, was supposed to have administered small doses, day by day, and after keeping her for some time in a state of irritation, to have at last killed her. The person who attended the patient spoke of her symptoms for about a week before herdeath, and said she had “twitchings” in the legs, that she was alarmed at being touched in the intervals between the spasms. I will now call your attention to the evidence of Mills. She states:—“Cook said, ‘I can’t lie down; I shall be suffocated if I lie down. Oh, fetch Mr. Palmer!’ The last words he said very loud. I did not observe his legs, but there was a sort of jumping or jerking about his head and neck and the body. Sometimes he would throw back his head upon the pillow, and then raise it up again. He had much difficulty in breathing. The balls of his eyes projected very much. He screamed again three or four times while I was in the room. He was moving and knocking about all the time. He asked me to rub his hands. I did rub them, and he thanked me. I noticed him ‘twitch.’ I gave him toast-and-water. His body was still jerking and jumping. When I put the spoon to his mouth, he snapped at it and got it fast between his teeth, and seemed to bite it very hard. In snapping at the spoon he threw forward his head and neck. He swallowed the toast-and-water, and with it the pills. Palmer then handed him a draught in a wineglass. Cook drank this. He snapped at the glass as he had done at the spoon. He seemed as though he could not exactly control himself.”

The expressions she used, particularly the word “twitching,” are remarkable. It may well be that when this case became public she may have had her attention called to it, and then had questions put to her with regard to the symptoms of Cook which induced her to alter the evidence she had before given. I cannot otherwise account for the remarkable variance in her evidence. From the time she left the Talbot Arms till she came here she seems to have been a person of remarkable importance. She went to Dolly’s, where Stevens visited her five or six times. What for? Stevens was unquestionably—and within proper limits he is not to be blamed for it—indignant at the circumstances of Cook’s death. He is not in the same condition of life as Mills. Why did he call on her? Why did he converse with her in a private room? He came, she said, to inquire after her health and see how she liked London. Mr. Gardner also saw her in the street, but he only asked her how she was and talked of other things. I do not say that these gentlemen went to her with the deliberate intention of inducing her to say what was false; but they did go with the deliberate intention of stimulating her memory upon points as to which they thought it required stimulating. Mr. Hatton, the police officer of Rugeley, also saw her a few times. They could have gone to her for no purpose but that of taking her evidence. I may mention a circumstance which shows how differently minor matters may be stated by witnesses who do not wish to assert what is false. When Palmer went into the bedroom after being called up, he remarked, “I do not think I ever dressed so quickly in my life,” and it is suggested that he never went to bed, but waited up for the commencement of the paroxysm. Mills answered the question I put to her upon that point pretty fairly; she said, “He came in his dressing-gown, and I do not recollect that there was anything like a day shirt about his neck.” On the other hand, Lavinia Barnes, who gave her evidence in a most respectable manner, said that he was quite dressed; that he wore his usual dress. People get talking about what they have witnessed, the real image of what occurred becomes confused or altogether obliterated from their minds, and they at last unconsciously tell a story which is very different from the truth. Mills was examined three times before the coroner, and if that officer acted improperly on those occasions it was quite competent for the Crown to bring him here and give him an opportunity of vindicating himself, but he ought not to be blamed upon the evidence of a witness like her. In the course of her examination, however, there came out a fact which is worthy of remark. Is there not something extraordinary in the periodicity of the attacks she described in their recurrence on three nights nearly at the same hour? There are numerous cases in the books in which attacks of this kind occurred at the same distance of time after the patient had gone to bed.

Without going into unnecessary details, I will now state what I intend to prove upon this part of the case. I shall call a great number of most respectable medical practitioners and surgeons in general practice, with a large experience in great cities, who will support the theory that these fits of Cook were probably not tetanus at all, but violent convulsions, the result of a weak habit of body, increased by a careless mode of life—by at least a sufficient amount of disease to render violent mineral poisons, in their opinion, desirable, and by habits which led to a chronic ulceration of the tonsils and difficulty in swallowing. They will prove that men with constitutions weakened by indulgence have often, under the influence of strong mental excitement and violent emotion of any kind, been suddenly thrown into such a state of convulsion that symptoms have been exhibited in the voluntary muscles of violent disease, and that persons suffering from those symptoms have constantly died asphyxiated or of exhaustion, leaving no trace whatever as to the cause of death. In addition, I will call several gentlemen who will speak to experiments they have made upon animals, and who will be ready to show you those experiments in any yard belonging to this building, if my lords should think fit. They will tell you, onthe authority of Orfila, that no degree of putrescence will decompose strychnine, and that if it is in the body they would be sure to find it even now.

LordCampbellsaid that the Court could not see the experiments made, but witnesses might be called to prove them.

Mr. SerjeantShee: I have now done with that branch of the case, and will proceed to the last matter to which I propose to direct your attention. I propose to discuss whether the circumstantial evidence is inexplicable on the supposition of the prisoner’s innocence; and, if I show you that in all its broad and salient features it is not so, I am sure that you will be only too happy to acquit him, recollecting that you represent the country, which is uninformed upon the case, which has no opportunity of hearing the witnesses on either side.

LordCampbell: In the language of the law “which country you are.”

Mr. SerjeantShee: Which country you are. You are responsible not to render this kingdom liable to the charge of having, in a paroxysm of prejudice propagated by a professional man with no knowledge of his own upon the matter, condemned an innocent person. In discussing the circumstantial evidence, I will avoid no point that seems at all difficult; but, not to waste time, I will not, after the intimation which I have received from the bench, trouble you with such matters as the pushing against Dr. Devonshire during thepost-mortemexamination or the cutting of a slit in the cover of the jar, which might be done accidentally with any of the sharp instruments which were being used, or the putting it at the further end of the room.

LordCampbell: What was said referred only to the pushing.

Mr. SerjeantShee: I take leave to suggest that in an examination in the town of Rugeley, where Palmer was perfectly well known, the fact of there having been a little apparent shoving, which may for the moment have disturbed the operator, is not to be allowed to have weight against the prisoner, especially as Mr. Devonshire said nothing was lost. The matter was one in which all present took considerable interest, and a little leaning over might easily have produced the effect which was spoken to. Then, as to the removal of the jar. It was not taken out of the room. It could not have been taken away without its removal being observed, and it would have been to the last degree foolish for any guilty person to attempt to remove it. That a man who knew himself to be innocent should be very unwilling that the jar should be removed out of the hands of persons upon whom he could rely for honest dealing is very probable. Palmer knew that there were some persons who did not want to pay him £13,000, and who had for a long time been doing all they could to undermine his character, and to impute to him most wicked conduct with regard to the death of a relation—suspicions in which none of his relatives had joined. It is clear from his observation, “Well, doctor, they won’t hang us yet,” that he knew that it was intended to ground a suspicion or a complaint upon thepost-mortemexamination, and it was exceedingly natural that he should like to have the jar kept in safe custody, even in the crowded room. All his conduct is consistent with this explanation. To Dr. Harland, with whom he does not appear to have been particularly intimate, he says, “I am very glad you are come, because there is no knowing who might have done it.” That is the conduct of a respectable man, who knew that his conduct would bear investigation if it were properly conducted.

I dare say there are in Rugeley many excellent and very serious people to whom the prisoner’s habits of life, his running about to races, and so on, would not much recommend him, and who he had reason to know entertained prejudices against him. As to his objection to the jar being taken to Mr. Frere’s, there had, I believe, been some slight difference, arising out of Thirlby (Palmer’s assistant) having come to him from Mr. Frere. I do not do Mr. Frere the injustice to think that this slight dispute would have led him to put anything into the jar, but it may account for Palmer’s caution. Let us now come to the more prominent features of Palmer’s conduct, upon which, in accordance with his instructions, my learned friend principally relied. I will first call your attention to the evidence of Myatt, the postboy at the Talbot Arms. Mr. Stevens had come down from London, and had acted towards Palmer in such a way as would have induced some men to kick him. Assuming Palmer to be innocent, Stevens’ conduct was most provoking. He dissembled with Palmer, cross-questioned him, pretended to take his advice, scolded him in a harsh tone of voice, almost insulted him, threatened apost-mortemexamination, and acted throughout under the impression that some one had been guilty of foul play towards Cook, which ought to be brought to light and punished. Stevens had been there during the whole of thepost-mortemexamination—a gloomy, miserable day it must have been, poring over the remains of that poor dead man; the jar was ready, and the fly was at the door to take himself and Boycott to Stafford, in order that this jar might be sent to London, out of Palmer’s ken and notice; so that if there was anybody base enough to do it, either in support of a theory, or to maintain a reputation—God forbid that I should suggest that to the prejudice of Dr. Taylor! I do not mean to do so—but if there was anybody capable of acting so great a wickedness, it might be done; and it was but a reasonable concern that Palmer should be anxious that it should stop at Dr. Harland’s. He did not like its going with Stevens to London. Stevenshad been particularly troublesome; he had been vexatious and annoying to the last degree. The fly was ready, when Palmer met Myatt, the postboy, and learned that he was going to drive Mr. Stevens to Stafford.

According to Myatt’s evidence, Palmer then asked him if he would upset “them.” That word was first used in this court to designate the jars; but as there was at that time but one jar, it must have been intended to apply to Mr. Stevens and his companion. Palmer’s conduct to Stevens had been most exemplary, and he must have been irritated to the last degree to find that he was suspected of stealing a paltry betting-book, which was of no use to anyone, and of having played foully and falsely with the life of his friend, the deceased. That he was much annoyed was proved by his observation to Dr. Harland in the morning—“There has been a queer old fellow down here making inquiries, who seems to suspect that everything is wrong. He thinks I have stolen a betting-book, which everyone who knows anything knows can be of no use to anyone now that poor Cook is dead.” This shows that Palmer’s mind was impressed with a sense that Stevens had illtreated him. He, no doubt, said to himself, “He (Stevens) has encouraged and brought back suspicions which have well-nigh destroyed me already, and which, if he proceeds in this course of bringing another charge against me, will probably render it impossible to get the sum which would be sufficient to release me from my embarrassments.” In this state of mind Palmer met the postboy who was ready to drive Mr. Stevens to Stafford. What occurred then was thus described by Myatt:—“He said he supposed I was going to take the jars.—What did you say then, or what did he say?—I said I believed I was.—After you said you believed you were, what did he say?—He says, ‘Do you think you could upset them?’—What answer did you make?—I told him ‘No.’—Did he say anything more?—He said, if I could, there was a £10 note for me.—What did you say to that?—I told him I should not.—Did he say any more to you?—I told him that I must go, for the horse was in the fly waiting for me to start.”

In cross-examination he was asked—“Were not these the words Palmer used,—‘I should not mind giving £10 to break Mr. Stevens’s neck?’—I do not recollect him saying ‘to break his neck.’—Were they not words to that effect, ‘I should not mind giving him £10 to break his neck?’—I do not recollect that.—Then ‘£10 to upset him?’—Yes.—Those were the words, were they?—Them were the words, to the best of my recollection. Did he appear to have been drinking at the time?—I cannot say.—When he said ‘to upset him,’ did he use any epithet; did he describe him in any way, such as ‘upset the fellow?’—He did not describe him in any way.——Did he say anything about him at the time?—He did say something about it; ‘it was a humbugging concern,’ or something to that effect.—That he was a humbugging concern, was that it?—No.—That ‘it was a humbugging concern,’ or something to that effect?—Yes.”

I submit to you that, after this evidence, you can only regard this expression about “upsetting them,” in its milder and more innocent sense, as a strong expression used by a man vexed and irritated by the suspicious and inquisitive manner which Stevens had from the first exhibited. That this is the correct view of the matter is confirmed by the fact that at the time of the inquest nothing was known of this, and Myatt was not called. Myatt was engaged at the Talbot Arms, and must frequently have conversed about the death of Cook and thepost-mortemexamination with servants and other persons about that inn. Had any serious weight been attached to this offer of Palmer, it would have excited attention, and would have been given in evidence before the coroner. On the other hand, it is to the last degree improbable that a medical man, knowing that he had given a large dose of strychnine, with the violent properties of which he was well acquainted, should have supposed that by the accidental spilling of a jar—the liver, spleen, and some of the tissues remaining behind—he could possibly escape detection. I will next call your attention to the evidence of Charles Newton, who swore that he saw Palmer at Mr. Salt’s surgery at 9 o’clock on Monday night, when he gave him three grains of strychnine in a piece of paper. He did not bring this to the knowledge of the Crown until the night before this trial commenced. He was examined before the coroner, but although then called to corroborate the statement of Roberts as to the presence of Palmer at Hawkins’s shop, where he was said to have purchased strychnine, he then said nothing about the purchase on the Monday night. A man who so conducts himself, who when first sworn omits a considerable portion of what he tells three weeks afterwards, and again comes forward at the last moment and tells more than enough in his opinion to drive home the guilt to the person who is accused, that man is not to be believed upon his oath. There are other circumstances which render Newton’s statement in the highest degree improbable. That Palmer should once in a way purchase strychnine in Rugeley is not to be wondered at. It is sold to kill vermin, to kill dogs. And whatever the evidence as to the galloping of the mares and their dropping their foals, it shows that Palmer had occasion for it, and for other purposes. But that, having bought enough for all ordinary purposes, he should go and buy more the next day, and should purchase it at the shop of a tradesman with whom he had dealt for two years, is in the highest degree incredible. Nobody would believe it. Nobody can or ought to believe it. But observe this also. Palmer hadbeen to London on the Monday, and in London there is no difficulty in procuring strychnine. It is sold to any one who, by writing down the technical description of what he wants, shows that he has had a medical education. Why did he not get it in London? And if he could not get it in London, why did he not get it at Stafford, or at any of the other places to which he had been? If he had bought it for this guilty purpose, would he not, as a wary man, have taken care that when his house was searched there should be found in it the paper containing the exact quantity of strychnine which he had purchased? What could have been easier to do than that? Newton’s story, therefore, cannot be believed, but, in addition, I will show that Palmer, who is stated by Herring to have been in London at a quarter past 3 o’clock, could not have been in Rugeley at the time at which Newton says he was at Mr. Salt’s.

Palmer attended thepost-mortemexamination; and is it credible that he, a skilful medical man, who studied in a London hospital, and made a note upon one of his books of the effect of strychnine, would ask that stupid sort of fellow Newton anything about its action upon a dog; and would, when the answer was given, snap his fingers and say, “It is all right, then, it cannot be found.” No one will believe it for a moment. Theanimusof Newton is shown by his omitting the word “poor,” and representing Palmer as having said, “You will find this fellow suffering from a disease of the throat; he has had syphilis;” and then, when cross-examined upon the subject by my learned friend Mr. Grove, replying, “I don’t know whether he said poor or rich,” as if that had anything to do with the question. I will now take you back to what occurred at Shrewsbury. The case for the Crown is that as early as Wednesday, the 14th November, the scheme of poisoning Cook begun to be executed at Shrewsbury. It is suggested that Cook was dosed with something that was put into his brandy-and-water. You will remember that I read to you a letter from Cook to Fisher, dated the 16th of November, to which there is this postscript—“I am better.” That must have referred to his illness at Shrewsbury. It is the postscript to a letter in which he speaks of the object he has in view, which is of great importance to himself and Palmer. Is his writing in that tone consistent with his having a belief that Palmer had drugged him with poison for the purpose of destroying his life at Shrewsbury? What did Palmer say about it?—“Cook says I have put something in his glass. I don’t play such tricks.” He treated it as though it had never been understood to be more than the expression of a man who, if not actually drunk, was very nearly so. Palmer did not arrive at the Raven until after the dinner hour. We have no evidence how Cook fared there; but we shall be able to prove that he went from there to the Unicorn, where he arrived pretty flush, and where he sat drinking brandy-and-water with Saunders the trainer and a lady. Seven or eight glasses of brandy-and-water did this good young man drink, and the result was that his unfortunate syphilitic throat was in a very dreadful state, if not of actual laceration, at least of soreness and irritation. [The learned Serjeant here read to the jury a long extract from an article which had appeared in some newspaper, which he did not mention, in which the occurrences at Shrewsbury were described in a style which seemed intended to be humourous, and in which Cook’s sickness was attributed to his having taken too much brandy upon champagne, in order to “restore his British solidity.” The learned Serjeant said that this entirely concurred with his own view of the case. He then continued.]

Cook’s own conduct afterwards proved that his illness was owing to his having drunk too much. He got up in the morning, breakfasted with Palmer, was good friends with him, and went with him to Rugeley. At Rugeley they received Pratt’s letter of the 13th, in consequence of which Palmer wrote to Pratt to say that some one would call upon him and pay him £200, and Cook wrote to Fisher and asked him to call on Pratt and pay this money. Does that look as though he thought there had been an attempt to poison him? Mrs. Brooks, who gave her evidence in a most creditable manner, proved that there was much sickness among the strangers who were at Shrewsbury; and the rest of her evidence did not tell much against Palmer, who might, after Cook’s complaint, very naturally have been looking at the tumbler to see if anything had been put into it. Cook got worse, and at last had the good sense to put his money into Fisher’s hands and go to bed. He was still very sick, and a doctor was sent for, who recommended an emetic. Cook made himself sick by drinking warm water and putting the handle of a toothbrush down his throat. He took a pill and a black draught, went to sleep, and next morning was quite well. This is really too ludicrous to receive a moment’s consideration. A person named Myatt was in the room at the Raven all the evening. He has been put into the box, but I shall call him, and you will hear his account. Palmer and Cook having got back to Rugeley the history of the slow poisoning continues. They went there together, and probably talked on the way of their difficulties and the mode of getting out of them, and of the small way that the winnings at Shrewsbury would go to effect that object, both seeing ruin staring them in the face unless the Prince of Wales Insurance-office could be made to pay the money which was due, and they could meanwhile remain free from all suspicion of insolvency or any sort of misconduct. When they got to Rugeley they provided for the temporary difficulty by sending£200 to Pratt. They were then evidently on friendly terms, Cook’s winnings being at Palmer’s service, and probably both effecting their objects, because, as it would appear from what Palmer said, Cook had some interest in the bills which were outstanding. Probably his name might not be upon them, but as they were engaged in these racing transactions, were joint owners of one horse and had the same trainer, they were very probably equally interested in these bills—were in fact what I remember to have once heard a nobleman well known upon the turf call “confederates.” The frequency of Palmer’s visits to Cook during the illness of the latter at Rugeley affords no ground of suspicion against the prisoner. On the contrary, it tells in his favour. Cook had no friend in the town but Palmer, with whom he may almost be said to have been on a visit; for though he did not sleep in Palmer’s house Palmer was in continual attendance on him, and, owing to the close proximity of his own residence, was enabled to bring him many little delicacies not easily attainable at an inn. Had he neglected the sick man, and only visited him occasionally, the inference of the Crown would probably have been that he was a black-hearted scoundrel, who only looked in now and then to give him his poison; but as he was zealously and laboriously attentive to him the conclusion is that he must have murdered him!

It is said that Palmer was guilty of a falsehood in representing Cook as suffering from diarrhœa; but that is to put a very violent and a very uncharitable construction on his words, for you will remember that Bamford swore to Cook having told him that his bowels had been affected twice or three times on Sunday. But, leaving these minor points, I come to one which in this case of circumstantial evidence is of the very last importance, and should be deemed decisive of the prisoner’s innocence. The supposition of the Crown is, that Palmer intended to dose Cook with antimony—to keep his stomach in continual irritation by vomiting, in order that he might the more surely despatch him with strychnine; and that during Sunday, the day on which he insisted on his taking the broth, Cook was under the influence of this insidious treatment. Now, supposing this to be true, and assuming it to be the fact that Palmer was indeed bent upon destroying Cook by this singular process, is it not manifest that there is one man who of all the men in the world would have been the very last whom he would have selected to be a witness of his proceedings? That man is a surgeon in the prime of life, a man intimately acquainted with Cook, and very much attached to him—Mr. Jones, of Lutterworth. Yet this is the very man to whom, when he is about to set out for London, Palmer writes a letter informing him that Cook is ill, and urging him to come over and see him without delay. I entreat of you to appreciate the full importance of that fact. The more you think of it the more profound will become your conviction that it affords evidence irrefragable of Palmer’s innocence. The imputation is that Palmer meant to kill Cook to possess himself of his winnings. Who was with Cook when the race was won? Who was by his side on the Shrewsbury racecourse for the three minutes that he was speechless? Who saw him take out his pocketbook and count up his winnings? Who but Jones?—Jones, who was his bosom friend, his companion, his confidant, and who knew to the last farthing the amount of his gains. Jones was of all men living the most likely to be the recipient of Cook’s confidence, and the man who was bound by every consideration of honour, friendship, and affection to protect him, to vindicate his cause, and to avenge his death. Yet this was the man for whom Palmer sent, that he might converse with Cook, receive his confidences, minister to him in his illness, and even sleep in the same room with him!

How, if Palmer is the murderer they represent him, are you to account for his summoning Jones to the bedside of the sick man? If Cook really suspected—which we are assured he did—that Palmer was poisoning him, Jones was the man to whom he would most willingly have unbosomed himself, and in whose faithful ear he would have most eagerly disburdened the perilous stuff that weighed upon his own brain. Palmer and Jones were both medical men; and it is not improbable that, in the course of his studies, the latter may have noted in his classbook the very passages respecting the operation of strychnine which also attracted the attention of the former. Is it conceivable that if Palmer meant to slay Cook with poison in the dead of the night he would have previously ensured the presence, in his victim’s bed-room, of a medical witness, who would know from the symptoms that the man was not dying a natural death? He brings a medical man into the room, and makes him lie within a few inches of the sick man’s bed, that he may hear his terrific shrieks, and witness those agonising convulsions which indicate the fatal potency of poison! Can you believe it? He might have despatched him by means that would have defied detection, for Cook was taking morphia medicinally, and a grain or two more would have silently thrown him into an eternal sleep. But, instead of doing so, he sends to Lutterworth for Jones. You have been told that this was done to cover appearances. Done to cover appearances! No—no—no! You cannot believe it. It is not in human nature. It cannot be true. You cannot find him guilty—you dare not find him guilty on the supposition of its truth. The country will not stand by you if you believe it to be true. You will be impeached before the world if you say that it is true. I believe in my conscience that it is false, and that, consistently with the rules that govern human nature, it cannot possibly be true. [Sensation and murmurs of applause.] With respect to the interviews and dialogues that tookplace between the prisoner and Mr. Stevens, I contend that, so far from telling against the former, they are in his favour. There is nothing but the evidence of a kind and considerate nature in the fact of his having ordered “a shell and a strong oak coffin” for the deceased; nor is it possible to torture into a presumption of guilt the few words of irritation that may have fallen from the prisoner in the course of a conversation in which Mr. Stevens treated him with scorn, not to say insolence.

With respect to the betting-book, many persons had access to Cook’s room—servants, both men and women, undertaker’s men, and barbers; and though I do not venture to mark out any particular person for suspicion, any one of them may have purloined the book and been afraid to return it. It is not fair in a case of this momentous importance to affix the opprobrium on a man who is not proved to have ever had it in his hand. The Crown had no doubt originally intended to rely upon the prisoner’s medical books as affording damning proof of his guilt; but I will refer to those volumes for evidences that will speak eloquently in his favour. In youth and early manhood there is no such protection for a man as the society of an innocent and virtuous woman to whom he is sincerely attached. If you find a young man devoted to such a woman, loving her dearly, and marrying her for the love he bears her, you may depend upon it that he is a man of a humane and gentle nature, little prone to deeds of violence. To such a woman was Palmer attached in his youth, and I will bring you proof positive to show that the volumes cited against him were the books he used when a student, and that the manuscript passages are in the handwriting of his wife. His was a marriage of the heart. He loved that young and virtuous woman with a pure and generous affection; he loved her as he now loves her first-born, who awaits with trembling anxiety the verdict that will restore him to the arms of his father, or drive that father to an ignominious death upon the scaffold. [The prisoner here covered his face with his hands and shed tears.] Here in this book I have conclusive evidence of the kind of man that Palmer was seven years ago. I find in its pages the copy of a letter addressed by him while still a student to the woman whom he afterwards made his wife. It is as follows:—

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