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Notable English Trials

William   Palmer

NOTABLE ENGLISH TRIALS.

The Stauntons.

Edited by J. B. Atlay, M.A., Barrister-at-Law.

Franz Muller.

Edited by H. B. Irving, M.A.(Oxon).

Lord Lovat.

Edited by David N. Mackay, Solicitor.

William Palmer.

Edited by Geo. H. Knott, Barrister-at-Law.

The Annesley Case.

Edited by Andrew Lang.

Dr. Lamson.

Edited by H. L. Adam.

Mrs. Maybrick.

Edited by H. B. Irving, M.A.(Oxon).

William Palmer. (From a Drawing by Joseph Simpson.)

Trial of
William Palmer

EDITED BY

George   H.   Knott

Barrister-at-Law

EDINBURGH AND LONDON
WILLIAM HODGE & COMPANY

 

PRINTED BY
WILLIAM HODGE AND COMPANY
GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH
1912

To

Sir HARRY BODKIN POLAND, K.C.,

WHO BEARS THE NAME, AND HAS CONTINUED THE REPUTATION,
OF ONE OF THE DISTINGUISHED COUNSEL IN THE TRIAL HEREIN
CONTAINED, AND WHO ALSO FOR MANY YEARS WAS THE REPRESENTATIVE
FIGURE IN THE COURT WHERE THAT TRIAL WAS HELD,
THIS BOOK IS, BY HIS KIND PERMISSION,
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY THE EDITOR.

PREFACE.

In preparing this report of a trial more than half a century ago, the chief difficulty one might expect would be to obtain an accurate contemporary account. A State trial one knows where to find; but how could newspaper reports of a trial lasting twelve days, and involving the most technical evidence on anatomy, physiology, and toxicology, be relied upon for anything like accuracy? Fortunately, if this trial was not a State trial in the ordinary sense, it so seized the minds of the country at the time that a complete record is to be found in the “Verbatim Report of the Trial of William Palmer, Transcribed from the Shorthand Notes of Mr. Angelo Bennett, of Rolls Chambers, Chancery Lane,” and published in 1856. A copy is not easily met with now-a-days. Official verbatim reports of criminal trials, that is made by an officer of the Court itself, were not then known. I suppose, though it is not so stated, that Mr. Bennett’s notes were taken by him on the instructions of the Treasury for reference each day by the Court and Counsel. They are the basis of the following report. Medical and medico-chemical evidence constitutes the greater part of this trial; it is also far the most important part; and in dealing with it I have had the benefit of the professional skill of Dr. William Robertson, of Leith, who has read the proofs. Some of the evidence, as it stood, showed that it had been a little too much for the erudition of the shorthand writer, and needed editing. I hope that, with the aid of Dr. Robertson, this appears now as it was intended to be by the experts who gave it.

The question of portraits has caused some difficulty. Photographs were not common, to say the least, in 1856. Most woodcuts met with seemed not worth reproduction. This accounts for the few portraits which appear; though the number of Judges and Counsel was exceptionally large. Palmer alone is shown more satisfactorily than any of the others in the well-known figure at Madame Tussaud’s. Their modeller was present in Court and I have seen his casts of Palmer’s head and face taken after execution. The striking sketch of Palmer by Mr. Joseph Simpson, the well-known artist, has been made from a photograph of this figure, and from a contemporary print.

Palmer has the distinction of an article in the Dictionary of National Biography. Many of the contemporary accounts cannot be relied on; they are too evidently sensational and designed for excited and morbid imaginations. By the kindness of Dr. George Fleming, J.P., of Highgate, London, who is a treasury of Palmeriana and of Rugeley tradition, I have been able to use his collection of “Jane” letters. The substance of these letters appears in the Introduction. They reveal a sinister episode in Palmer’s career not to be found related elsewhere. Moreover, it was a real link in the chain of circumstances that led to Palmer’s crime and his trial. The letter from Palmer to his wife was kindly lent for reproduction by Dr. Kurt Loewenfeld, of Bramhall, Cheshire.

G. H. K.

CONTENTS.

  PAGE

Introduction,

1

Table of Dates,

18

List of Counsel,

21

The Trial—

First Day—Wednesday, 14th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Prosecution.

Ishmael Fisher,

23

Thomas Jones,

26

George Reid,

26

William Scafe Gibson,

26

Elizabeth Mills,

27 Second Day—Thursday, 15th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Prosecution (continued).

Elizabeth Mills (cross-examined)

33

James Gardner,

37

Anne Brooks,

37

Lavinia Barnes,

39

Anne Rowley,

42

Charles Hawley,

42

Sarah Bond,

42

William Henry Jones,

44

Elizabeth Mills (recalled),

49

Henry Savage,

49

Charles Newton,

49 Third Day—Friday, 16th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Prosecution (continued).

Charles Joseph Roberts,

52

William Vernon Stevens,

52

Dr. John Thomas Harland,

55

Charles John Devonshire,

58

John Myatt,

59

Samuel Cheshire,

59

Samuel Cheshire (recalled),

60

Captain John Haines Hatton,

61

Samuel Cheshire (recalled),

61

George Herring,

61 Fourth Day—Saturday, 17th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Prosecution (continued).

George Bate,

63

Thomas Blizzard Curling,

63

Robert Todd,

64

Sir Benjamin Brodie,

67

Henry Daniel,

68

Samuel Solly,

69

Dr. Robert Corbett,

70

Dr. Watson,

70

Mary Kelly,

70

Caroline Hickson,

70

Francis Taylor,

71

Jane Witham,

71

George Morley,

72

Edward Duke Moore,

74 Fifth Day—Monday, 19th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Prosecution (continued).

Dr. Alfred Taylor,

75

Dr. George Owen Rees,

83

Professor Robert Christison,

84 Sixth Day—Tuesday, 20th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Prosecution (concluded).

Dr. John Jackson,

89 Seventh Day—Wednesday, 21st May, 1856.

Speech for the Defence.

Serjeant Shee,

91 Eighth Day—Thursday, 22nd May, 1856.

Evidence for the Defence.

Thomas Nunneley,

161

William Herepath,

174

Julian Edward Disbrowe Rogers,

176

Dr. Henry Letheby,

176

Robert Edward Gay,

181 Ninth Day—Friday, 23rd May, 1856.

Evidence for the Defence (continued).

John Brown Ross,

183

Dr. Francis Wrightson,

184

Richard Partridge,

186

John Gay,

189

Dr. William M‘Donnell,

192

Dr. John Nathan Bainbridge,

200

Edward Austin Steady,

201

Dr. George Robinson,

202

Dr. Benjamin Ward Richardson,

204

Dr. Wrightson (recalled),

207

Catherine Watson,

207 Tenth Day—Saturday, 24th May, 1856.

Evidence for the Defence (continued).

Oliver Pemberton,

208

Henry Matthews,

208

Joseph Foster,

208

George Myatt,

209

John Sargent,

210

Jeremiah Smith,

211

The Attorney-General’s Address to the Jury,

214 Eleventh Day—Monday, 26th May, 1856.

The Lord Chief-Justice’s Charge to the Jury,

266 Twelfth Day—Tuesday, 27th May, 1856.

The Lord Chief-Justice’s Charge to the Jury (continued),

275

Verdict and Sentence,

285

APPENDICES.

 I. Letter from Thomas Palmer, brother of William Palmer,

      to the Lord Chief-Justice Campbell,

289

II. Short Account of the Judges and Counsel engaged in the Case,

316

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

William Palmer,

Frontispiece

Mr. Serjeant Shee,

facing page 91

Note written by Palmer to his Counsel while in the dock at the Old Bailey,

” 160

Sir Alexander Cockburn,

” 214

Lord Chief-Justice Campbell,

” 266

Mr. Baron Alderson,

” 316

Letter from William Palmer to his wife,

” 320

Facsimile of page from the Diary of William Palmer,

” 324

WILLIAM   PALMER.

INTRODUCTION.

Sir James Stephen, in his “History of the Criminal Law,” observes that he was present at the trial of William Palmer, and that it made an impression on him which the subsequent experience of thirty-four years had only confirmed and strengthened. He considers that the trial, as a whole, was one of the greatest trials in the history of English law, and eminently deserving the attention of students of the law, and we may add of students of human nature.

Palmer was convicted, but there has always been a certain amount of doubt and mystery about the trial. We can hardly imagine a reader not being satisfied morally as to the guilt of Palmer, but were he to take the medical and chemical evidence alone, which forms so large a part of the following report, we could at least imagine him holding his judgment in suspense. He might well believe that Palmer administered poison to Cook, whom he was charged with murdering, without admitting that the poison was strychnia. And there remains the ambiguous language of Palmer himself, who neither positively admitted nor denied his guilt, but declared, “I am innocent of poisoning Cook by strychnia.” Sir James Stephen, who will not allow that the defence was impressive, is yet struck with this defect in the evidence, and suggests that Palmer may have discovered a method of administering strychnia so as to disguise its normal effects. If this is so, his secret has never been disclosed. Perhaps it is equally probable that he selected some poison allied to strychnia—bruchsia, for example—and that the medical and chemical experts of sixty years ago were not sufficiently acquainted with the strychnoid poisons to trace all their differences. The evidence of the chemical witnesses suggests something of this kind, so inconsistent were their opinions; and this remark applies even more strongly to the evidence of the doctors as to the difference between the disease of tetanus and the effects of strychnia. This is one of the great subjects of interest in the report of the trial. A constant and alert attention is needed in reading it, and it is a professional discipline for either lawyer or doctor.

Our personal opinion is that, had it not been for one or two definitely known cases of strychnia poisoning in the human subject, the prosecution would have failed, in spite of all the experiments on animals from which analogies as to Cook’s symptoms were attempted to be drawn. There had been no trial for poisoning by strychnia before Palmer’s. But it happened that while the Palmer case was pending Dr. Dove, of Leeds, was accused of poisoning his wife by strychnia, and the symptoms of poison were more certainly ascertained. Yet Dr. Nunneley, of Leeds, who made a report on this case, was called for the defence, not for the prosecution.

In this preliminary sketch I shall not attempt to convey any idea of the chemical and medical evidence by a formal summary. It would be impossible, as Sir James Stephen remarks, to treat satisfactorily such an extensive, so technical, and so contradictory a body of testimony, and only such a general statement will be made of the circumstances as will enable the reader the easier to follow the case of the prosecution.

In the English procedure counsel’s speech for the prosecution begins the proceedings. In the Scottish the evidence is led at once. The trial is treated in this respect as if it were a Scottish trial on account of its extreme bulk, as it extended over twelve days. Neither in the Scottish series, which are already published, nor in the English series, now beginning, is there a trial of equal length; nor do I know any other murder trial so long, with the exception of that conducted by Browning in “The Ring and the Book.” In this trial, as in every English trial, the opening speech was intended to inform the jury merely of the facts and prepare their minds for the evidence, and lucidity of statement, at the most, is the only forensic effect aimed at. I accordingly omit the Attorney-General’s speech qua speech, and found this preliminary statement on it. The point of interest as regards forensic oratory is reached with the speech of Serjeant Shee, the leading counsel for the defence. He analyses the evidence led for the prosecution, challenges its cogency, outlines the case in reply which will be an answer to every point made, appeals eloquently and pathetically for the prisoner, and, we may add incidentally, asserts his absolute belief in his client’s innocence, thus bringing on himself the presiding judge’s reproof for transgression of the rules of advocacy. The culmination is attained in the reply of the Attorney-General. Nothing, unless it is of the most temporary interest, is omitted in these two speeches, and every reference and argument in them will be intelligible in the light of the examinations and cross-examinations as given, which, not less than the speeches, are classic examples of the forensic art.

There is a tradition that Palmer, a racing man, expressed his sense of the deadly effect of Sir Alexander Cockburn’s examination, cross-examination, and speech in racecourse language, “It was the riding that did it.”

With the Lord Chief-Justice’s summing up I have dealt freely. It occupied two days, and the form of it, to a great extent, was this. Lord Campbell would say to the jury, “Now, gentlemen, I will take the witness So-and-So and read you his evidence. It is for you to say what the effect of this evidence is.” Then would follow comments directing the jury’s attention to this or that feature. What the jury thought is not important now, but what the reader thinks with the evidence before him. Where Lord Campbell made special comment on any particular evidence the passages are given. Nothing material is omitted, and the general effect of his address is preserved.

The events occurred in November, 1855, at Rugeley, in Staffordshire, where Palmer, who was about thirty-one years of age, had been a medical practitioner until two or three years previously, when he transferred his business to the Mr. Thirlby mentioned in the report. He had abandoned medicine for the turf, kept racehorses, attended race meetings, and betted. By the year 1853 he was in pecuniary difficulties, and was raising money on bills with moneylenders.

Mr. John Parsons Cook, whom Palmer was charged with poisoning, was a young man of about twenty-eight who had been articled as a solicitor, but he inherited some £12,000, and did not follow his profession. He also went on the turf, kept racehorses, and betted, and it was in this common pursuit that Palmer and Cook became acquainted.

Palmer’s pecuniary circumstances in 1854 are important. He had raised money on a bill for £2000, and discounted it with Padwick, a notorious moneylender and racing man of the day. He had forged his mother’s name as acceptor, and, as she was wealthy, the bill had been discounted on the security of her name. It was this bill and others similarly forged which, according to the prosecution, led to the murder of Cook.

Previously to this Palmer had only been able to pay off debts to the amount of £13,000 on bills which were in the hands of another moneylender, Mr. Pratt, who figures so conspicuously in the trial, out of money received on the death of his wife, whom he had insured for £13,000.

At the close of 1854 he took out another policy for £13,000 on the life of his brother Walter. This policy was deposited as security with Pratt to cover a series of bills which began then to be discounted. These, by November, 1855, amounted to £11,500. His mother’s name as acceptor had also been forged on these bills by Palmer.

In the month of August, 1855, Walter Palmer died, but the office refused to pay on the policy, and the question was still in dispute in November when the death of Mr. Cook occurred. If the policy were not paid Pratt would sue Mrs. Palmer, as Palmer himself had no means, so that Palmer was in the same peril of being shown to be a forger both by Pratt and Padwick.

This policy was never paid, and we may add that when Palmer was tried for the murder of Cook there were two other indictments against him for the murders of his wife and brother, but they were not proceeded with as he was convicted on the Cook charge.

What happened about the bills was this. On the 6th of November Pratt issued two writs for £4000 against Palmer and his mother, but withheld them from service pending arrangements that Palmer might make. Pratt wrote to him on the 13th of November, a memorable day in the history of the case, when “Polestar,” Cook’s mare, won the Shrewsbury Handicap, that steps would be taken to enforce the policy on Walter Palmer’s life; so that Palmer’s problem was to keep paying portions of the bills until the question of the policy was settled, and thus keep Pratt quiet.

The pecuniary position of Cook is quickly explained. He had practically nothing but what came to him through the winning of “Polestar” at Shrewsbury on the 13th of November. His betting book showed winnings which amounted, with the stakes, to £2050. It was proved that he had £700 or £800 in his pocket at Shrewsbury from the bets he actually drew there, and £1020 remained to be settled at Tattersall’s on the following Monday, the 19th November.

The evidence will show how Palmer obtained payment of the bets with the exception of £120, and applied them to paying instalments on Pratt’s bills.

We now come to the circumstances of the illness and death of Cook. Palmer and Cook went together from Rugeley to Shrewsbury races, and stayed at the Raven Hotel. On the night of the 14th of November, and the day after “Polestar” had won the race, Cook was taken ill at the Raven with severe retchings and vomitings in consequence of having taken a glass of brandy and water into which the prosecution alleged Palmer had put antimony in the form of tartar emetic. The only direct testimony as to this was that of a Mrs. Brooks, who attended races. She knew Palmer, and called on him at the Raven on some business connected with racing. She swore that, as she turned into the lobby, she saw Palmer holding up a tumbler to the light of the gas, looking at it “with the caution of a man who was watching to see what was the condition of the liquid,” according to the Attorney-General’s statement. Having looked at it so he withdrew to his own room, and presently returned with the glass in his hand, and then went into the room where Cook was, and where he drank the brandy and water. There was much evidence from other witnesses as to what happened in connection with the brandy and water incident.

The state of Cook’s health previous to the incident at Shrewsbury was of the utmost importance. It was admitted by the prosecution that Cook was delicate of chest, but otherwise he was asserted to be hale and hearty. In May of 1855 he had consulted Dr. Savage for supposed syphilitic symptoms. He suffered from his throat, and had some eruptions about his mouth, and he had been taking mercury. Dr. Savage stopped this treatment, and advised that the symptoms were not those of syphilis. The post-mortem showed the cicatrised wound of an old chancre, but not of anything recent. The defence sought to show that Cook’s death was connected with his history of ill-health.

When the races were over Palmer and Cook returned together to Rugeley—a curious fact, seeing that Cook had accused Palmer of putting something into his glass. Cook stayed at the Talbot Arms, which was opposite to Palmer’s house, and it was at this inn that Cook’s death occurred. Their arrival was on the night of Thursday, the 15th of November. When asked how he was Cook said that he was better than he had been at Shrewsbury. Cook dined next day with Palmer, and nothing happened that night. Early on Saturday morning Palmer saw Cook in his bedroom, and ordered him some coffee, which was brought there by Elizabeth Mills, the chambermaid, who gave most important evidence as to the various episodes of the illness until the death on the night of Tuesday, the 20th November. The coffee was given to Palmer, and he gave it to Cook, Mills having left. “Immediately after that the same symptoms set in which had taken place at Shrewsbury, and throughout the whole of that day and the next day” (Saturday and Sunday) “the prisoner constantly administered everything to Cook.” One incident was a bowl of broth being obtained by Palmer through a woman named Rowley. She was sent for it to the Albion, an inn in Rugeley. She took it to Palmer’s house and put it in a saucepan on the kitchen fire to warm. Palmer, whilst she was absent in the back kitchen, poured the broth into a basin, brought it to her, and told her to take it up to Cook, and say Smith had sent it. This was Jeremiah Smith, an attorney in Rugeley, a common friend of Palmer and Cook. A spoonful of the broth made Cook sick. But the full significance of this intended inference is not seen until we take the evidence of Mills that she drank a spoonful and became sick in about half an hour, and had to go to bed.

And here we may refer to the evidence of this Jeremiah Smith, who was called as a witness on behalf of Palmer. His cross-examination was the most dramatic scene of the trial. He was shown to have been concerned with Palmer in the insurance schemes, and not a rag of his credit remained. But Sir James Stephen remarks, “No abbreviation can give the effect of this cross-examination. The witness’s efforts to gain time, and his distress as the various answers were extorted from him by degrees, may be faintly traced in the report. The witness’s face was covered with sweat, and the papers put into his hands shook and rustled.”

During Saturday and Sunday Cook was attended by Mr. Bamford, a medical man in Rugeley. As Mr. Bamford’s age gave rise to some observation, I may mention that he was eighty. He was told by Palmer on the Saturday that Cook had had a bilious attack owing to having taken too much wine at the dinner the day before, but when Mr. Bamford mentioned this Cook replied that he had only two glasses of champagne, and Mr. Bamford, in fact, found that the symptoms were not bilious.

On Sunday, as the sickness continued, Mr. Bamford prepared two opiate pills containing half a grain of morphia, half a grain of calomel, and four grains of rhubarb. The ingredients are important. The following Monday is a crucial day. Palmer went to London and saw Herring, a betting man, gave him a list of Cook’s winnings, and instructed him to attend Tattersall’s and settle. Herring was not Cook’s regular agent, but Fisher, the man to whom Cook had entrusted his money at Shrewsbury whilst he was ill. Fisher declared that he had, in fact, advanced £200 on the strength of the money which Fisher expected to draw at Tattersall’s. This £200, at the request of Cook, in a letter written by him from Rugeley on the 16th of November (Friday), was applied by Fisher to one of Pratt’s acceptances. This letter was used by the defence to show that, as Palmer alleged, the bills were for the joint transactions of himself and Cook, and by parity of reasoning that Palmer had probably Cook’s authority to draw his bets. Herring drew £900 of the £1020 at Tattersall’s, and, as Palmer had instructed him, he paid £450 to Pratt. He was also instructed to pay Padwick £350 for a bet which Padwick had won, partly from Palmer and partly from Cook, but for which Palmer was liable: again a suggestion of joint transactions between Palmer and Cook. This payment was to be made, according to the prosecution, to keep Padwick quiet over his £2000 forged acceptance, half of which remained unpaid. Herring, however, did not pay Padwick. If he had done so he would have been out of pocket, as it had been agreed between him and Palmer that part of the money he was to draw should be applied to debts of his own due from Palmer.

Palmer finished his business in town by going to Pratt. He paid him £50, so that this, the £450, and Fisher’s £200, with £600 Palmer had previously paid, wiped off £1300. He then returned to Rugeley, arriving there at an hour which was certainly mistaken by the prosecution, and which derived its chief importance from the story told by Jeremiah Smith of his meeting Palmer returning much later, and the account he gave of their movements together. If his story were true, that of the witness Newton, who spoke to the purchase by Palmer from him of strychnia that night, would be suspect. As it was, doubt was cast upon it by Newton never mentioning it until the day of the trial. Cook during Palmer’s absence had no sickness, though in the morning Palmer, who had gone early to the hotel, had given him coffee, and Cook had vomited. But after Palmer left for London Mr. Bamford had come, and given him a new medicine. It was arguable, therefore, that the irritation of the stomach was soothed by the new medicine. Cook dressed, got up, recovered his spirits, and saw and talked with several people, and so he continued till night. This has the most important bearing, as will be seen by the medical evidence, on the vital point whether Cook’s symptoms were either those of strychnia poisoning, or idiopathic or traumatic tetanus, or of some other form of nervous disease with tetanic convulsions.

On Palmer’s return to Rugeley he went to see Cook, and he remained, going in and out of his room, until about eleven o’clock. He then left, and about twelve the house was alarmed by violent screams from Cook’s rooms. I shall refer the reader for the details of this illness to the evidence.

According to the prosecution Palmer had gone previously on that night to Newton, who was the assistant of a surgeon at Rugeley named Salt, and had purchased three grains of strychnia. This was Newton’s statement. Whilst Palmer was away in London Mr. Bamford had sent to the Talbot Arms the same sort of pills, in which were morphia, calomel, and rhubarb. They were taken by the maid upstairs, and put in the usual place for Palmer to administer, as he had done before.

The Attorney-General put his case thus to the jury, “It will be for you to say whether Cook took the pills prepared by Mr. Bamford, and which he had taken on the Saturday and Sunday night, or whether, as this accusation suggests, the prisoner substituted for the pills of Mr. Bamford some of his own concoction in which strychnia was mixed.”

On Tuesday morning, the 20th, the day of his death, Cook was comparatively comfortable after his violent attack.

That same morning Palmer went to the shop of a druggist at Rugeley, Mr. Hawkins. He asked for six grains of strychnia, with some prussic acid and some liquor of opium. While Hawkins’ assistant Roberts was putting up the prussic acid Newton came into the shop. Palmer took him by the arm, and saying, “I have something I want to say to you,” led him outside, and began to talk to him about an unimportant matter. While they were talking a man Bassington came up, and when he and Newton were fully engaged in talk Palmer went back into the shop, and stood in the doorway. Palmer went away with what he had bought, and then Newton went into the shop and inquired what Palmer had bought, and was told.

At the preliminary inquiry before the coroner Newton only told of this incident at the shop. He did not tell of Palmer having purchased strychnia from him on the Monday night until the day before the Attorney-General was making his speech for the prosecution. An explanation will be found in Newton’s evidence.

Before coming to the actual circumstances of Cook’s death on Tuesday night two other facts must be mentioned. On the previous Sunday Palmer wrote to Mr. Jones, a medical man living at Lutterworth, with whom Cook lived when he was at home. He said Cook had a bilious attack with diarrhœa, and asked Jones to come and see him as soon as possible. On Monday he wrote to him again desiring him to come.

The Attorney-General said, “I should not be discharging my duty if I did not suggest this as being part of a deep design, and that the administration of the irritant poison, of which abundant traces were found after death, was for the purpose of producing the appearance of natural disease, which could account afterwards for the death to which the victim was doomed.”

The irritant poison referred to is antimony, but one of the main facts, if not altogether the most important one, on which the defence relied, was that no strychnia was found in the body of Cook.

Mr. Jones came on the Tuesday about three o’clock, and was with Cook throughout till his death.

The other fact referred to is that during the same day (Tuesday) Palmer sent for Cheshire, the postmaster at Rugeley. Palmer produced a paper and asked him to fill in a cheque on Messrs. Wetherby (of Tattersall’s) in Palmer’s favour for £350 (the amount of the Shrewsbury Handicap stakes), saying “Poor Cook is too ill to draw the cheque himself, and Messrs. Wetherby might know my handwriting.” Palmer was a defaulter at Tattersall’s. Cheshire did what he was asked to do. Palmer took the cheque away. It was sent that night, and returned to Palmer by Messrs. Wetherby. Notice to produce the cheque was given to the defence. This was not done, and the prosecution in these circumstances insisted that Cook’s signature was forged by Palmer. If the cheque had been produced, and Cook’s signature proved genuine, the defence would have had a strong case that Palmer drew the bets by Cook’s instruction for their joint transactions.

Cheshire was brought from prison to give evidence. Palmer had induced him to intercept letters addressed to Palmer’s mother to prevent her becoming aware of the forged bills. Besides this, Cheshire informed Palmer of the contents of a letter from Dr. Taylor, the analyst, who tested the remains for poison after the post mortem on the coroner’s inquiry. This letter informed Mr. Stevens, Cook’s stepfather, that no strychnia had been found, and Palmer was sufficiently audacious and foolish to write to the coroner, a Mr. Ward, a lawyer, emphasising this fact. More foolishly still he sent the coroner gifts of game. The prosecution asserted that much of the evidence given by some of the witnesses, Mills, for instance, at the trial, but not found in the depositions at the inquest, had not been given there because the coroner had conducted the inquiry so laxly. The defence, of course, disputed this.

We come to the actual scene of Cook’s death on the Tuesday night. There was a consultation of the three doctors in Cook’s presence at seven o’clock. Cook suddenly said to Palmer, “Palmer, I will have no more medicine to-night; no more pills.” It was arranged that the pills should be made up as before without Cook knowing what they contained. Palmer went with Mr. Bamford to the latter’s surgery for the pills, and Mr. Bamford was surprised at Palmer’s asking him to write the directions on the box, as Palmer himself was to give the pills, but he did so. Palmer took the pills, and they were in his possession three-quarters of an hour before he returned to the Talbot. On opening the box he called the attention of Mr. Jones to the directions, saying “How wonderful it was that a man of eighty should write so good and strong a hand.” Cook at first refused to take the pills, but Palmer insisted, and Cook took them. They were taken about half-past ten. A little before twelve o’clock Jones, who was to sleep in Cook’s room, came in and undressed, and went to bed. In fifteen or twenty minutes he was roused by a scream from Cook, who called out, “For God’s sake, fetch the doctor, I am going to be ill as I was last night.”

I shall not set out the symptoms of Cook throughout this attack which ended in his death. They were the battle-ground of the case, and the scientific evidence must be referred to the reader’s consideration. But the length of time from the administration of the pills to the first outcry of Cook must be particularly noted. The defence urged that strychnia could not possibly be so long in taking effect. This and the non-detection of strychnia in the body were the two chief difficulties of the prosecution.

On Thursday or Friday, the 22nd or 23rd, after Cook’s death Palmer sent again for Cheshire, and, producing a paper with Cook’s signature, purporting to be an acknowledgment by Cook that £4000 worth of bills had been negotiated for Cook’s benefit, asked him to sign it as witness. Cheshire refused, exclaiming, “Good God! the man is dead!” The prosecution asserted Cook’s signature to be a forgery; they gave notice to produce the document, and this was not done.

We come to the appearance in Rugeley of Mr. Stevens, Cook’s stepfather. His conversations with Palmer on money matters, his suspicions aroused by the appearance of the body, Palmer’s ordering a coffin without his orders, and especially the fact that Cook’s betting book and other papers had disappeared, with Palmer’s evasions about them, all put him on the alert. Besides, at the time, the inquiries by the insurance office were going on in the neighbourhood about Walter Palmer’s death. On Saturday, the 24th, both Stevens and Palmer had left Rugeley to go to London, Stevens to consult his London solicitor, Palmer to pay Pratt another £100, he, as the prosecution pointed out, not having had any money at Shrewsbury, and having lost on the races there. Stevens and Palmer met in the train on the return journey, and Stevens told Palmer that he was determined to have a post-mortem and to employ a solicitor to investigate.

The post-mortem, the chemical analysis, the coroner’s inquest, and the trial followed. In the meantime Padwick had arrested Palmer for the debt on his bills, the story of his mother’s forged acceptances became known, and the Palmer case of 1855-6 became as intense a source of popular curiosity and excitement as the Crippen case of 1910. To the circumstances of the Cook case were also added the exhumations of Palmer’s wife and brother, and the public inquiries relating to them, and the rumours that Palmer had poisoned many others.

I shall not attempt to give the facts as to the post-mortem and the analysis. It would be a futile effort. Not a fact was undisputed either by one side or the other, and the value of the evidence, for the reader, consists in the exercise of the patience and memory and judgment required to master their complicated details, and to see the relations of one fact to another. In the speech for the defence by Mr. Serjeant Shee, and the final speech by Sir Alexander Cockburn, he will further see how the same facts may be rendered for opposite purposes by advocates of the first rank.

The trial marked an important step in English criminal procedure. In the ordinary course Palmer would have been tried by an Assize Court in Staffordshire, but the prejudice against him there was so strong that it was felt he would not have a fair trial. An Act was therefore passed, the 19 Vict. cap. 16, for enabling the trial to take place at the Central Criminal Court in London. Since then that Act has been available in any similar circumstances. To the magnitude and difficulty of the Palmer case must be assigned the reason for three judges, Lord Chief Justice Campbell, Mr. Justice Cresswell, and Mr. Baron Alderson being appointed to try it: a very rare occurrence in England. The bar on each side was remarkably strong. Sir Alexander Cockburn became the successor of Lord Campbell; Mr. Edward James, Q.C., was one of the most brilliant advocates of his day, and was only prevented from rising to the highest professional honours by certain private incidents in his career which happened subsequently; Mr. Huddleston became Baron Huddleston; Mr. Bodkin and Mr. Welsby were the leading men of their time in the special practice of the Old Bailey. Mr. Serjeant Shee, the leader for the defence, became Mr. Justice Shee, and Mr. Grove, Q.C., who was one of the most distinguished physicists of his day, and wrote a famous book on “The Conservation of Energy,” became Mr. Justice Grove. Mr. Kenealey was subsequently the famous Dr. Kenealey, the counsel for the Tichborne claimant, a man of great learning and natural genius, inferior to none of his professional contemporaries.

In an English criminal trial an inquiry into the family history of the accused, or into his personal character and previous career, has no place unless insanity is in issue. Such matters were rigidly excluded from the trial of Palmer. This trial as it stands is simply a great forensic contest famous in the records of the criminal law. The criminal himself is, as it were, an abstraction or automaton, his acts are only taken into account as part of certain outward events which enter into the general body of circumstances connected with the particular case. The motive is investigated, but strictly in relation to the particular crime; and in atrocious crimes the pecuniary motive always seems inadequate. Deadly hate or fierce passion, or an access of unreasoning fear in some circumstances, may be more intelligible. Yet such crimes seem always inexplicable, unless we can refer them to some abnormality in the character of the criminal himself, and either ascribe it to his ancestry or deduce it from his own doings outside the culminating crime which he commits. The normal man, we say, does not become base at a stroke.

In Palmer’s case there is available evidence of both kinds bearing on abnormality. It may not amount to insanity. It may be only the “wickedness” of which Sir James Stephen speaks in a quotation given below. Whatever it may be called, it is traceable in Palmer throughout his life.

Palmer’s father was a wealthy man who died worth £70,000, at Rugeley, in Staffordshire, Palmer’s birthplace. The origin of this fortune began with his maternal grandfather, who had been associated with a woman in Derby whom he deserted, taking with him some hundreds of pounds said to belong to her. In Lichfield he became prosperous and respectable. His daughter married the elder Palmer, who was at the time a sawyer, a rude, uneducated man. A previous suitor of Mrs. Palmer had been the steward of the Marquis of Anglesea. The two men were intimate after the marriage, and associated in dealings with the Anglesea timber; and to these dealings, and similar ones with stewards of other estates, the elder Palmer’s wealth was attributed by the country tradition. After her husband’s death Mrs. Palmer used her freedom in several love affairs that caused scandal. One of these was with Jeremiah Smith, the attorney, Palmer’s associate in many nefarious transactions, who was called for the defence, and was cross-examined mercilessly by the Attorney-General on his relations with Mrs. Palmer.

William, the Palmer of this trial, was the second son in a family of five sons and two daughters. Of these, William, his brother Walter, and a sister lived badly and died miserably. Walter would have died from drink if his brother William had not hurried him away by poison for his insurance money. Other members of the family were reputable citizens.

William Palmer was first apprenticed to a firm of wholesale druggists in Liverpool. After a time considerable amounts of money sent through the post by customers to the firm were lost, and, after much inquiry, Palmer confessed he had stolen them, and his indentures were cancelled. His mother then for the first time began to cover up her son’s misdeeds by advances of money. This story runs throughout the trial, and Palmer fleeced his mother without compunction.

At the age of eighteen he was next apprenticed to Mr. Tylecote, a surgeon, near Rugeley. In consequence of discreditable conduct with women, and in money matters, Palmer left, and Mr. Tylecote refused to take him back. He was then admitted into the Stafford Infirmary as “a walking pupil.” Four years after, in 1846, he was back at Rugeley, and there, at an inquest held on a man named Abley, it was proved that Palmer had incited the man to drink large quantities of brandy. There was talk of Palmer’s connection with Abley’s wife, and a suspicion that the affair was something more than a “lark.”

In this year Palmer went to London and joined Bartholomew’s Hospital. He obtained his diploma of surgeon in August, and returned to Rugeley as a medical practitioner. A year after he married Annie Brookes, a ward in Chancery, the illegitimate daughter of a Colonel Brookes, of the Indian Army, who had settled in Stafford, and had as housekeeper Mary Thornton, Annie Brookes’s mother. By his will Colonel Brookes left Annie Brookes (or Thornton) considerable property in money and houses, but his estate was administered in Chancery. The guardians were opposed to the marriage, but it took place in 1847 by order of the Court. One of the love-letters written by Palmer and read by Serjeant Shee during the trial appears elsewhere.

Whether Palmer intended or not at first to settle down to his profession, he was almost without practice in two or three years after his marriage. Horses and racing occupied him in place of medicine. He had means without practice, and, as Rugeley is a great horse-dealing centre, he was always familiar with men connected with horses and racing, and they were his chosen company. In 1853 he was in pecuniary difficulties due to his racing transactions, and was raising money on bills with moneylenders.

Withal he kept up an appearance of great outward respectability. Church-going sixty years ago was more than now one of its marks. In the diary, some extracts from which will be found in the Appendices, there are references in the year when he poisoned Cook to attendances at the Sacrament. It is not necessary to read into this church-going anything more specific than the radical falsity of Palmer’s character. Great formalism and profession of rigid theological dogma were the usual mental furniture of the middle classes of Palmer’s day. After all the disclosures of the trial Palmer used the customary pietistic phrases, and it was characteristic of the times that, after his conviction, his counsel, Serjeant Shee, sent him a beautifully bound copy of the Bible. The profession of religion, indeed, as a cloak to evil seems to have been purposeless, as he was notorious for seductions, as well as of bad odour in other details of his life.

One intrigue of illicit gallantry, which began probably in the lifetime of Mrs. Palmer, and was certainly going on at the time of Walter Palmer’s death, has a sinister connection with the death of Cook. It is not mentioned in any account published of Palmer. Jane Burgess, a young woman of respectable position living in Stafford in 1855, left, at the house where she resided, a bundle of thirty-four letters written to her by Palmer. They show that a practitioner in Stafford, chosen by Palmer, and described by him as one “who would be silent as death,” had performed an illegal operation. On the 13th of November the day notable in the trial, when “Polestar,” Cook’s racehorse, won at Shrewsbury, there is a letter to her from Palmer, which shows that she had made a demand for money as a condition of returning his letters. He was surprised, he wrote, to learn that she had never burned one of his letters. He says, “I cannot do what you ask; I should not mind giving £30 for the whole of them, though I am hard up at present.” Another letter is dated the 19th November, the day on which Palmer was accused of administering strychnia for the first time to Cook. He offers £40 “to split the difference.” On the 21st, the day on which, in the early morning, Cook had died, he sends the halves of eight £5 notes, and on the 24th the remainder. The letters were probably never returned, because the trouble threatened about Cook’s death became common talk in Rugeley and Stafford.

Shortly after his marriage began a series of suspicious deaths which were attributed to Palmer after investigation started into the circumstances attending the death of Cook. An illegitimate child he had by a Rugeley woman died after it had visited him. Mrs. Thornton, his mother-in-law, was persuaded to live at his house, and she died within a fortnight. Palmer acquired property from her by her death. In 1850 a Mr. Bladon, a racing man, stayed for several days with Palmer, who owed him £800 for bets. Bladon died in circumstances very like those attending Cook’s death, and Palmer buried him with the haste he attempted in the case of Cook, and he narrowly escaped a similar accusation.

In 1854 Palmer effected insurances to the amount of £13,000 on his wife’s life. Within six months she died much as Bladon had died, and as Cook was to die. Dr. Bamford, a medical man of eighty-two, whom Palmer seems to have hoodwinked into serving his purposes, certified the death of Mrs. Palmer, as he had done the death of Bladon, and as he was to certify a year later that of Cook. Palmer drew the insurance money from the offices concerned. They were influenced by the popular suspicions and rumours in Rugeley and in the sporting circles Palmer frequented, but they paid after some hesitation and suggestion of inquiry, and Palmer was freed from the most pressing of his liabilities. His diary contains this entry—“Sept. 29th (1854), Friday—My poor, dear Annie expired at 10 past 1.” Nine days after this—“Oct. 8th, Sunday—At church, Sacrament.” Nine months after his maidservant, Eliza Tharm, bore an illegitimate child to him. Within three months of his wife’s death Palmer, with the assistance of Pratt, the moneylender, whose claims had been met by the insurance on Mrs. Palmer’s life, was making proposals to various offices, amounting to £82,000, on the life of his brother Walter. Ultimately an insurance for £13,000 was effected, and the policy was lodged with Pratt to secure advances. After this the rest of Palmer’s life-history is directly connected with the story of the trial. The account we have given will suggest the, perhaps unprecedented, interest with which the trial was anticipated throughout the Midlands, and afterwards with what absorbed attention it was followed by all England as well as on the Continent.

I conclude this sketch by quoting a characteristic description by Sir James Stephen, who knew Palmer, had studied the criminal type, and himself presided at one of the most famous trials for poisoning. He says of Palmer—“His career supplied one of the proofs of a fact which many kind-hearted people seem to doubt, namely, the fact that such a thing as atrocious wickedness is consistent with good education, perfect sanity, and everything, in a word, which deprives men of all excuse for crime. Palmer was respectably brought up; apart from his extravagance and vice, he might have lived comfortably enough. He was a model of physical health and strength, and was courageous, determined, and energetic. No one ever suggested that there was even a disposition towards madness in him; yet he was as cruel, as treacherous, as greedy of money and pleasure, as brutally hard-hearted and sensual a wretch as it is possible even to imagine. If he had been the lowest and most ignorant ruffian that ever sprang from a long line of criminal ancestors, he could not have been worse than he was. He was by no means unlike Rush, Thurtell, and many other persons whom I have known. The fact that the world contains an appreciable number of wretches, who ought to be exterminated without mercy when an opportunity occurs, is not quite so generally understood as it ought to be—many common ways of thinking and feeling virtually deny it.”

Leading Dates in the Palmer Trial.

        1855.

August.

Walter Palmer, William Palmer’s brother, dies. Payment of policy on his life for £13,000 assigned to William Palmer, and held by Pratt, moneylender, as security, refused by insurance office. Negotiations about it continue up to Cook’s death.

Nov.

6.

Writs issued by Pratt against Palmer and his mother for £4000, Mrs. Palmer’s acceptance being forged. Writs not served, for Palmer to have opportunity of raising instalments.

“

13.

(Tuesday) Palmer and Cook go together from Rugeley to Shrewsbury Races. Cook’s mare, “Polestar,” wins Shrewsbury Handicap, and he has in his possession, in consequence, £700 or £800, and is entitled to stakes of £350 and bets, to be paid at Tattersall’s the Monday following, of over £1000.

“

14.

(Wednesday night) Cook ill at the Raven, Shrewsbury, where he and Palmer stayed. Palmer is alleged to have dosed his drink.

“

15.

Palmer’s horse, “Chicken,” beaten in his race, and Palmer loses heavily.

Cook and Palmer return to Rugeley, and Cook puts up at the Talbot.

“

16.

Cook dines with Palmer and Jeremiah Smith. Cook apparently in usual health.

“

17.

(Saturday) Cook ill in bed, with the same symptoms as at Shrewsbury.

“

18.

(Sunday) His illness continues, and during the two days Palmer is in constant attendance, and orders and administers food, drink, and medicine. Dr. Bamford called in.

“

19.

(Monday) Palmer goes to London and arranges with Herring to draw Cook’s bets at Tattersalls and make payments to Pratt and Padwick, the moneylenders.

Cook is better all the Monday while Palmer is away.

Nov.

19.

Palmer returns in the evening. Goes to Newton, the assistant of Mr. Salt, surgeon at Rugeley, and purchases 3 grains of strychnia. Is in and out of Cook’s room up to eleven o’clock. Gives Cook pills, and leaves about eleven o’clock. These pills were professedly those sent by Dr. Bamford, but were alleged by the prosecution to have been substituted by Palmer with others containing strychnia. Jeremiah Smith gave evidence that Cook had taken Dr. Bamford’s pills before Palmer’s arrival.

About twelve o’clock Cook is taken ill with violent spasms, and awakens household with violent screaming. Palmer is sent for.

“

20.

(Tuesday) Cook “comparatively comfortable” in the morning.

Palmer during the day purchases from Roberts, the assistant at the shop of Mr. Hawkins, druggist at Rugeley, prussic acid, 6 grains of strychnia, and liquor of opium.

Palmer requests Cheshire, the Rugeley postmaster, to fill up cheque on Wetherby for Cook’s stakes won at Shrewsbury.

Mr. Jones, surgeon, of Lutterworth, Cook’s most intimate friend, comes, at Palmer’s request, to stay with Cook.

Pills again made up by Dr. Bamford at his house and taken away by Palmer. Pills administered by Palmer at 10.30. Jones sleeps in Cook’s room. Cook taken ill again as on Monday, about twelve o’clock, and in a few minutes dies. Palmer had been sent for, and was present at the death.

“

21.

(Wednesday) Wetherby declines to pay £350 cheque, as the stakes were not received from Shrewsbury.

Palmer writes to Pratt that he must have “Polestar.”

“

22.

Palmer goes to London and pays Pratt £100; he had no money at Shrewsbury, and lost on the races.

“

23.

Palmer at Rugeley again; sees Cheshire, and desires him to witness a document purporting to be signed by Cook acknowledging £4000 of bills to have been negotiated by Palmer for Cook.

Nov.

23.

Mr. Stevens, Cook’s stepfather, arrives in Rugeley, sees Palmer, and discusses Cook’s affairs and the funeral. Cook’s betting book and papers not found. Coffin ordered by Palmer without Stevens’s knowledge. Stevens notices unusual appearance of the body; returns to London and consults a solicitor, who gives him introduction to Mr. Gardner, solicitor in Rugeley. Stevens and Palmer meet on the train from London to Rugeley, and Stevens informs Palmer that he intends to have a post-mortem.

“

25.

(Sunday) Palmer applies to Dr. Bamford for death certificate, which is given for apoplexy.

Sends for Newton, and has a conversation about the effects of strychnia.

“

26.

Post-mortem examination; Palmer is present, and acts suspiciously.

Mr. Stevens takes jars, with contents from the body, to London for analysis to be made by Professor Taylor.

Dec.

5.

Cheshire, having opened Professor Taylor’s letter to Mr. Gardner, containing account of analysis, tells Palmer strychnia or other poisons, with the exception of traces of antimony, have not been found.

“

8.

Palmer writes to the coroner as to Professor Taylor’s letter.

“

14.

Inquest, at which Professor Taylor gives evidence.

Verdict of “wilful murder” returned.

Palmer, who was in custody of Sheriff’s officer for the bills, is arrested on the verdict and taken to Stafford Gaol.

THE TRIAL.

Within the Central Criminal Court,
Old Bailey, London.
Wednesday, 14th MAY, 1856.
The Court met at Ten o’clock.

———

Judges

—

LORD CHIEF JUSTICE CAMPBELL.

Mr.

JUSTICE CRESSWELL.

Mr.

BARON ALDERSON.

———

Counsel for the Crown

—

The Attorney-General

(

Sir Alexander Cockburn

).

Mr.

Edward James, Q.C.

Mr.

Bodkin

.

Mr.

Welsby

.

Mr.

Huddleston

.

———

Counsel for the Prisoner

—

Mr.

Serjeant Shee

.

Mr.

Grove, Q.C.

Mr.

Gray

.

Mr.

Kenealey

.

The prisoner, William Palmer, surgeon, of Rugeley, aged thirty-one was indicted for having at Rugeley, county of Stafford, on 21st November, 1855, feloniously, wilfully, and with malice aforethought, committed murder on the person of John Parsons Cook.

On being called upon the prisoner pleaded not guilty.

The jury having been duly empanelled and sworn, the Attorney-General opened the case for the Crown.[A]

Evidence for the Prosecution.

Ishmael Fisher

Ishmael Fisher, examined by Mr. James—I am a wine merchant. I attend races occasionally, and knew the deceased, John Parsons Cook, for about two years. I was at Shrewsbury Races in November, 1855, and I remember the race for the Shrewsbury Handicap won with a mare called “Polestar,” the property of Mr. Cook. That was on Tuesday, the 13th of November. I saw Mr. Cook, the deceased, that day upon the course. He appeared in his usual health and spirits. At Shrewsbury I stopped at the Raven Hotel. I know Palmer, the prisoner, very well. I have known him a little longer than I have known Mr. Cook. Mr. Cook and Mr. Palmer were also stopping at the Raven Hotel, and were occupying a room near me. There was only a wooden partition between my room and theirs. Between eleven and twelve on the night of Wednesday I went into the sitting room, in which Mr. Cook and Mr. Palmer and Mr. Myatt were. Myatt is a saddler at Rugeley, and is a friend of Palmer. They each appeared to have some grog before them. In my presence Mr. Cook asked Mr. Palmer to have some more brandy and water. Mr. Palmer said, “I shall not have any more till you have drunk yours.” Mr. Cook said then, “I will drink mine,” and he took up his glass and drank it at a drop, or he might have made two drops of it. After he had drunk it he said, “There is something in it.” He also said, “It burns my throat dreadfully.” Mr. Palmer then got up and took up the glass. He sipped up what was left of the glass, and said, “There is nothing in it.” There appeared to be certainly not more than a teaspoonful left by Mr. Cook. At that time a Mr. Reid, whom I knew, came in. He is a wine merchant, and attends races. After Palmer had put his glass to his mouth and said, “There is nothing in it,” he handed the glass to Reid, and asked him if he thought there was anything in it. The glass was also handed to me. We each said the glass being so empty we could not recognise anything. I said I thought there was rather a strong scent upon it, only I could not detect anything besides brandy. About ten minutes after this Cook retired from the room. Cook then came back and called me out of the room, and I went with him into my sitting room. Cook at that time was very ill. He had been sick. He said he had been very sick, and he thought that Palmer had dosed him. On that occasion he handed me over a sum of money, between £700 and £800 in bank notes. It was given to me to be taken care of. He did not say till when. Mr. Palmer and Mr. Cook jointly occupied a sitting room. They occupied different bedrooms. After Cook had given me this money he was immediately seized with sickness. I saw him in the same room and in his own bedroom. He again complained of suffering during the time he was absent, and said he had been again very sick. He asked me to go with him to his bedroom, which I did. A Mr. Jones, a stationer, went with me to his bedroom. While we were there he was violently vomiting again, so much so that we thought it right to send for the doctor, Mr. Gibson. We left him that morning in his room about two o’clock or a little after. Mr. Gibson came about half-past twelve or a quarter to one. I again sent for Mr. Gibson, as Cook was so ill. The second time I sent was about one, as near as I can remember. After taking some medicine Cook became more composed. The medicine was sent by Mr. Gibson, but he did not administer it himself. Mr. Jones and myself gave him the medicine. The next morning about ten o’clock I saw Palmer in my own sitting room. He was in the sitting room when I got downstairs. He said that Cook had been stating he had given him something last night, that he had been putting something in his brandy, or something to that effect. Palmer said he never played such tricks with people. He said, “I can tell you what he was; he was very drunk.” Cook certainly was not drunk. I did not see him at dinner, but I saw him some time after, and from what I observed of him he was certainly sober. On the same morning Mr. Cook came up to my bedroom after he had got up. He was looking very ill. I gave him back his money. On that day (Thursday) I saw Mr. Cook on the racecourse at Shrewsbury. It would be about three o’clock. He looked very ill. I frequently had been in the habit of settling his bets for him when he did not settle them himself. I was in the habit of paying and receiving for him at Tattersall’s and other places. At Shrewsbury I saw Cook’s betting book in his possession. It was a little more than half the size of this (a small memorandum book). As nearly as I can remember, it was very nearly this colour (a dark colour). On the 17th, which was Saturday, I paid to Mr. Pratt, by direction of Mr. Cook, £200 in a cheque. As his agent I expected to settle his Shrewsbury account at Tattersall’s on the following Monday, and I should have been entitled to deduct the £200. That was the course of dealing between us, but I did not settle that account, as it turned out.

[A] See Introduction, p. 2.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—I have known Mr. Palmer a little longer than Mr. Cook. I knew that they were a good deal connected with racing transactions. They appeared to be very intimate, and were a great deal together. They generally stayed at the same hotels. I knew that Cook won considerably at Shrewsbury. I knew that “Polestar” was his mare. I do not know whether Palmer also won. I saw Mr. Cook after the race on the course. He appeared very much elated and gratified. “Polestar” won easily. In the room to which I went in the evening, in which Mr. Cook, Mr. Palmer, and Mr. Myatt were, I remember seeing a glass before Mr. Palmer and before Mr. Cook. I could not answer for Myatt’s glass. I believe there was one decanter on the table. I did not observe sufficiently the glasses to see whether both had been drinking. Mr. Cook asked me to take some brandy. I do not recollect drinking any, but I cannot positively remember. I was not tipsy. I do not think I drank anything. I believe I am a good judge of brandy by the smell. I smelt this glass, and said that it had a strong smell about it, but I thought there was nothing in it unlike brandy. The glass was perfectly empty, and had been completely drained. I had been in the Unicorn in the evening before this occurred. I saw both Cook and Palmer at the Unicorn on Wednesday night about nine o’clock, or between nine and ten. I cannot say if he was drinking then. I do not know that a good number of people happened to be ill at Shrewsbury on that Wednesday or Tuesday. I had a friend who was rather poorly there from a different kind of illness to Mr. Cook. Wednesday was rather dull. I do not know that it rained, but it was damp under foot I remember. I saw Mr. Cook about the racecourse several times on Wednesday. On Thursday I remember the weather was rather cold and damp, but I cannot say whether it rained or not. On the 16th or 17th of November I received a letter from Mr. Cook, dated Rugeley, 16th November, 1855—

Dear Fisher,—It is of very great importance to both Mr. Palmer and myself that the sum of £500 should be paid to Mr. Pratt, of Queen Street, Mayfair, to-morrow, without fail. £300 has been sent up to-night, and if you will be kind enough to pay the other £200 to-morrow on receipt of this, you will greatly oblige me. I will settle it on Monday at Tattersall’s. I am much better.

I received this on the 17th at No. 4 Victoria Street, London. I considered that Palmer and Cook were for some time jointly connected with racing transactions, but there is no proof of it. Cook was not more elated after winning than people usually are.

Thomas Jones

Thomas Jones, examined by Mr. Welsby—I am a law stationer, and was at Shrewsbury Races last November. I stayed at the Raven. On the Monday night Cook supped with me and some other friends. He appeared well on that occasion, as he also did on the Tuesday and Wednesday. On Wednesday night, between eleven and twelve, Mr. Cook came into my room at the Raven and invited me into his. I went there, and found, amongst other people in the room, Palmer. After the party broke up Mr. Fisher said something to me about Cook, in consequence of which I went up to Cook’s bedroom. I found him there, and he complained of a burning in his throat. He was vomiting. Some pills and a draught were brought. Mr. Cook refused to take the pills, in consequence of which I went to the doctor, Mr. Gibson, and got some liquid medicine from him, which I brought back and gave to Mr. Cook. He drank about a wineglassful of the medicine, and after that he also took some of the pills. Next morning, between six and seven, I again saw him. He looked pale, and appeared to be unwell.

George Reid

George Reid, examined by Mr. Bodkin—I was acquainted with the deceased Mr. Cook and the prisoner Palmer. I saw them at Shrewsbury Races in November. On the Tuesday and Wednesday Cook appeared to be in his usual health. On Wednesday night I went into the room at the Raven where Palmer and Cook were. There was another gentleman present. We had a glass of brandy and water before the time to rest. Almost immediately after I arrived there I noticed that Cook was in pain. I heard him say to Mr. Palmer there was something in the brandy and water. Mr. Palmer handed me the glass to taste from it. I said, “What is the use of handing me the glass when it is empty?” The next time I saw Cook was about eleven o’clock the next morning. He said he was very ill.

Cross-examined by Serjeant Shee—I should consider that Cook’s general state of health was delicate. He always had a pallid complexion, and did not look like a strong man.

W. S. Gibson

William Scafe Gibson, examined by Mr. Huddleston—I am assistant to Mr. Heathcote, surgeon, at Shrewsbury. On 14th November last, between twelve and one at night, I was sent for to the Raven Hotel, and saw there Mr. Cook in his bedroom. He was not in bed. He complained of pain in his stomach and heat in his throat, and said he thought he had been poisoned. His pulse was about 90; his tongue was perfectly clean. I advised him to take an emetic, which he did, and he was then very sick. Nothing came away but water. I sent him two pills and a draught. The pills consisted of rhubarb and 3 grains of calomel. The draught consisted of mistura sennacum. Later on in the same night I gave Mr. Jones some medicine for Cook. I never saw Cook after that occasion.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—I treated Cook as if he had taken poison. I took him at his word, that he had taken poison, not from his symptoms. He seemed a little excited by drink.

E. Mills

Elizabeth Mills, examined by Mr. James—I was chambermaid at the Talbot Arms at Rugeley in November last. I had been there about two years. I knew the prisoner. He was in the habit of coming to the Talbot Arms. I remember on Thursday, the 15th, between nine and ten at night, Mr. Cook, along with Mr. Palmer, came to the Talbot Arms. He retired to rest between ten and eleven. He said he had been poorly, and was feeling poorly then. The next morning he got up about twelve o’clock, and said he felt no worse, but still he was not well. That night he retired to bed about half-past ten. He said he had been to Mr. Palmer’s and had dined there. On Saturday morning about eight, Palmer, who lived opposite to the Talbot Arms, came over. He ordered a cup of coffee for Mr. Cook, which I believe I gave to Mr. Cook in his bedroom. Mr. Palmer was in the room at the time. I did not see Cook drink it, but about half an hour afterwards I returned into the room and found that the coffee had been vomited. On that occasion I observed a jug in the room which did not belong to the Talbot Arms. It was sent down to me by Lavinia Barnes to make some more toast and water. During that Saturday I saw Palmer perhaps four or five times in Cook’s room. I heard him say to Mr. Cook that he would send over some broth. I did not see it brought over, but I saw the broth in the kitchen. The cook told me that it had come over from Mrs. Rowley. The broth had not been made at the Talbot Arms. Later in the day I took up the broth to Mr. Cook. About a quarter of an hour after the broth came over I met Palmer coming up the stairs to Cook’s room. He asked if Cook had had his broth. I told him I did not know that any was come for him. During this conversation Lavinia Barnes came forward and said she had taken up the broth to Mr. Cook as soon as it had come, and he had refused to take it, saying that it would not stay in his stomach. Palmer said that I must go and fetch the broth, which I did, and took it into the room. Mr. Palmer was there, and I left the broth in the room. About an hour and a half afterwards I went up to the room again and found that the broth had been vomited. About six o’clock that evening some barley water was made for Cook. I took that up to him, but I cannot remember whether that stayed in his stomach or not. At eight o’clock that evening I took up some arrowroot to Cook. The first time I saw Mr. Bamford [the doctor at Rugeley] was about three o’clock on the Saturday afternoon. Between seven and eight on the Sunday morning I went into Mr. Cook’s room. During the night Mr. Smith, a friend of Mr. Cook, had slept in the same room. I asked Mr. Cook if he felt worse. He said he felt pretty comfortable, and had slept well since twelve o’clock. Upon the Sunday a large breakfast cup of broth was brought to the Talbot Arms by Charles Hawley. I took some of it up to Mr. Cook’s room in the same cup in which it was brought. I tasted about two tablespoonfuls of the broth before I took it up. It was between twelve and one, before my dinner, that I tasted this broth. About half an hour afterwards it made me very sick, and I vomited violently all the afternoon till about five o’clock. I was obliged to go to bed. Up to that time I had been quite well. I had taken nothing that I am aware of that had disagreed with me. In the evening and on the morning of the Sunday I saw Mr. Cook several times. He appeared to be better during that evening, and to be in good spirits. The last time I saw him on the Sunday night might be about ten or a little after that. I saw him between seven and eight on the Monday morning. I took him up a cup of coffee. He did not vomit that. Palmer was there that morning about a quarter or half-past seven. I saw him coming downstairs as though he had been to see Mr. Cook. Mr. Cook got up at one o’clock on that Monday. He appeared a great deal better, and he washed and dressed and shaved himself. He said he felt exceedingly weak. On the Monday Ashmall, the jockey, and Mr. Saunders, Cook’s trainer, visited him. As soon as Cook got up at one o’clock I gave him some arrowroot, which he retained in his stomach. I believe he had a cup of coffee about four or five. About eight o’clock that night Miss Bond, the housekeeper, gave me a pillbox to take upstairs to Mr. Cook’s room, which I did, and placed it on the dressing-table. It was wrapped up in white paper. I do not know whether the box contained pills or not. After I had placed the pillbox on Cook’s dressing-table Palmer came, and went into Cook’s room. I saw him sitting down by the fire between nine and ten. I retired to rest between ten and eleven. About a quarter or ten minutes before twelve Lavinia Barnes, the waitress, called me up. I heard a noise of violent screaming whilst I was dressing. The screams came from Cook’s room. My room is on the floor above Cook’s room. I heard the screams twice, and went down to Cook’s room. As soon as I entered the room I found him sitting up in bed. He desired me to fetch Mr. Palmer directly. I walked to his bedside, and I found the pillow upon the floor. There was one mould candle burning. I picked up the pillow and asked him would he lay down his head. At that time he was sitting up and was beating the bed-clothes, with both his arms and hands stretched out. He said, “I cannot lie down. I shall suffocate if I do. Oh, fetch Mr. Palmer.” His body, his hands, and neck were moving then—a sort of jumping or jerking. His head was back. Sometimes he would throw back his head upon the pillow, and then he would raise himself up again. This jumping and jerking was all over his body. He appeared to have great difficulty in breathing. The balls of both the eyes were much projected. It was difficult for him to speak, he was so short of breath. He screamed three or four times while I was in the room. He called aloud “Murder” twice. He asked me to rub one hand. I found the left hand stiff. It appeared to be stretched out as though the fingers were something like paralysed. It did not move. It appeared to me to be stiff all the way up his arm. I did not rub him very long. The stiffness did not appear to be gone after I had rubbed him. During the time I was rubbing his hands Palmer was in the room. Cook was conscious while this jerking of the body was going on. He recognised Palmer when he came in, and said, “Oh, Palmer, I shall die,” or “Oh, doctor, I shall die.” Palmer replied, “Oh, my lad, you won’t.” Palmer then left to fetch something, and asked me to stay by the bedside with him. He returned in a few minutes, during which time I merely stood by the bedside. He brought back with him some pills. He gave him something else, but whether he brought it with him or not I do not know. He gave him a drop from a wineglass after giving him the pills. Cook, when he took the pills, said he could not swallow them. At Palmer’s request I gave Cook a teaspoonful of toast and water, which he took. When I gave it him from the spoon his body was then jerking and jumping. He snapped at the spoon like that [describing it] with his head and neck, and the spoon was fast between his teeth. It was difficult to get it away. He seemed to bite it very hard. While this was going on the water went down his throat and washed the pills down. Mr. Palmer then handed him the draught from the wineglass. It was something liquid, and the wineglass was three parts full with a liquid of a dark, heavy-looking nature. Cook drank it. He snapped at the glass just the same as he did at the spoon. He swallowed the liquid, which was vomited up immediately. I supported his forehead with my hand while he vomited. The stuff he vomited smelt, I should think, like opium. Palmer said that he hoped the pills were not returned, and he searched for the pills with a quill. He said, “I cannot find the pills.” After this Cook seemed to be more easy. This second attack lasted about half an hour, or it might be more. He appeared to be conscious during the whole of that time. He asked Palmer to feel his heart after he had got more composed. I do not know whether he did so or not. Palmer made some slight remark as to its being all right, or something of that kind. I left Cook and Palmer about three o’clock in the morning. Cook was dozing when I left him, and Palmer was asleep in the easy-chair.

E. Mills

I next saw Cook again about six o’clock on the Tuesday morning. I said, “Has Mr. Palmer gone?” and he said, “Yes; he left a quarter before five.” I asked him how he felt, and he said he had been no worse since I left him in the morning. He asked me if I had ever seen any one suffer such agony as he was in last night, and I said no, I never had. I asked “What do you think was the cause of all that, Mr. Cook?” and he said the pills that Palmer gave him at half-past ten. When I saw Cook on the Tuesday morning I did not observe any of those jerkings or convulsions about him. About twelve o’clock he rang his bell and desired me to send the boots over to ask Palmer whether he might have a cup of coffee. The boots returned and said he might have a cup of coffee, and that Mr. Palmer would be over immediately. I took the coffee up a little after twelve. Palmer was in Mr. Cook’s room at that time. I gave the coffee to Mr. Palmer, who tasted the coffee in my presence. I then left the room. Mr. Jones arrived by the three o’clock train that afternoon. He went and saw Mr. Cook upon his arrival. About four, or it might be between four and five, I took up to Mr. Cook’s room another cup of coffee. At that time I saw Palmer in the room. I left the room, and afterwards I saw Palmer, who told me that Mr. Cook had vomited the coffee. He spoke from the door of Cook’s room, but did not call me in. I saw Cook several times that evening before I retired to rest. He appeared to be in very good spirits, and talked about getting up the next morning. I believe I gave him some arrowroot that evening about half-past ten. Palmer was with him in his bedroom when I left him. I gave Palmer a jug of toast and water for Cook. Mr. Palmer asked Cook if I could do anything more for him that night, and Mr. Cook said he would want nothing more. That was about half-past ten. I did not go to bed that night, but I remained in the kitchen, as I was anxious to see how Mr. Cook went on. While I was in the kitchen the bell of Mr. Cook’s room rang violently a little before twelve [Tuesday night]. Mr. Jones was sleeping in Cook’s bedroom, which was a double-bedded room, and where a bed had been made up for him. I went upstairs to Mr. Cook’s room on hearing the bell. He was sitting up in bed, and Mr. Jones appeared to be supporting him. Mr. Cook said, “Oh, Mary, fetch Mr. Palmer directly.” He was conscious at the time. I went over for Mr. Palmer. I rang the surgery bell at the surgery door. I expected him to come to the window and as soon as I stepped off the step into the road he was at the bedroom window. He did not put up the sash. At that time I could not see whether he was dressed or not. I asked him to come over to Mr. Cook directly, as he was much the same as he was the night before. I then went back to the hotel. Palmer came two or three minutes afterwards. I was in the bedroom when Palmer came, and he remarked that he had never dressed so quickly in his life. That was the first thing he said when he came into Cook’s room. Mr. Cook was sitting up in bed, supported by Mr. Jones. After Mr. Palmer came I remained on the landing, just outside the door. After I had been waiting a short time Palmer came out. I said to him that Mr. Cook was much about the same as last night, and he replied that he was not so ill by the fiftieth part. He then went downstairs as though he was going into his own house, and after a very short time he came back to Cook’s room. After Palmer had returned I heard Cook ask to be turned over on his right side. I was at the door at the time, which was open. I did not go in. I was not in the room when Cook died. I went in, I believe, just before he died, but I came out again. I saw Mr. Jones supporting Cook. Mr. Palmer was then feeling Mr. Cook’s pulse, and he said to Mr. Jones, “His pulse is gone.” Mr. Jones pressed the side of his face to Cook’s heart. Mr. Palmer asked me to fetch Mr. Bamford, and I did so. From the time I was called up, about ten minutes before twelve, till Cook’s death would be about three-quarters of an hour. Mr. Bamford came over, and I saw him when he came downstairs. He said, “He is dead. He was dead when I arrived.” Mr. Jones came out of the room and told me that Mr. Palmer wanted me. I went into the room and saw Mr. Palmer. There was no one with him. I said, “It is not possible Mr. Cook is dead,” and he said, “Oh, yes, he is dead.” He asked me to arrange about laying out Cook. I had seen a book in Mr. Cook’s room, a dark book with a gold band round the edge. It had a pencil going into it on one side. Cook stopped at the Talbot Arms perhaps two or three months before this time. I saw the book on the Monday night before Mr. Cook’s death. He wrote something in it, and took from a pocket in the book a postage stamp. I placed the book back at the looking-glass on the dressing-table. I have never seen that book since Cook’s death. I have searched everywhere for it. When I went into the room where Cook’s body was lying Palmer was there. I noticed that Cook’s clothes were placed on a chair. I saw Palmer searching the pocket. That was on the Tuesday night about ten minutes after Cook’s death. He also searched under the pillow and bolster. After Cook’s death I saw some letters on the mantelpiece which were not there before.

The Court then adjourned.

Second Day, Thursday, 15th May, 1856.

The Court met at ten o’clock.

E. Mills

Elizabeth Mills, cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—I had been at the Talbot Arms about three years at the date of Mr. Cook’s death. He first came to the Talbot Arms about three months before he died, and up to the time of his death he was constantly coming back and forward. During the time he was there I never heard him complain of anything except a sore throat or something of that kind through cold. I never noticed that he had any soreness about his mouth or that he had difficulty at all in swallowing. I have seen him with a foul tongue about once or so. He never complained in my hearing of the tongue being sore so as to render it difficult to swallow. I do not know of caustic having been applied to it while he was there. Before he went to Shrewsbury he had not been ailing at all to my knowledge. When he came back he said he was poorly. After Cook’s death I stayed at the Talbot Inn till the day after Christmas. I then went to my home in the Potteries, Shelton. Since then I have been in service in Dolly’s Hotel, Paternoster Row, London. I stayed six weeks there as chambermaid. About a week after I came to London I saw Mr. Stevens (the stepfather of Cook) about six or seven times. Two or three times I saw him alone; at other times perhaps Mrs. Dewhurst, the landlady of the inn, or Miss Dewhurst was there. It was not always about Mr. Cook’s death that he spoke to me. He would merely call to see how I liked London, and whether I was well in health, and all that.

E. Mills

Mr. Stevens is a man not in your station. He is a gentleman. Do you mean to say he called to see how you liked London?—Just to see whether I liked the place. I had some conversation with him at the Talbot Inn just before the funeral. I really cannot remember what he spoke about beyond Mr. Cook’s death. During the time I was at Dolly’s Hotel I never received a farthing from him, and he never made me any promise to get a place. The last time I saw him out of Court was on Tuesday last at Dolly’s Hotel. He never spoke to me about Mr. Cook’s death. When I saw him at that time there were other people present, including Lavinia Barnes, Mr. Gardner, and Mr. Hatton, the chief officer of police in Staffordshire. Mr. Gardner is an attorney at Rugeley. I cannot say what all the talk was about. Mr. Cook’s death might be mentioned. I daresay it was. I will undertake to say that there were other subjects of conversation between us besides the subject of Cook’s death. I do not wish to mention what they were. They did not, so far as I heard, talk about the evidence I was to give. They did not ask me what I could prove, nor did they read my depositions before the coroner to me. There was nothing read to me from a newspaper or anything else. Mr. Stevens never at any previous interview read anything from a newspaper to me. He never talked to me about the symptoms which Mr. Cook exhibited before his death. Before last Tuesday I had seen Mr. Hatton about twice. I saw him once at Dolly’s, when he dined there. I did not wait upon him. I merely saw him there. He might have talked about Mr. Cook’s death, but I cannot remember. I have seen Mr. Gardner there three or four times since Mr. Cook’s death. I have seen him at Dolly’s, and have met him in the street. I have merely said, “How do you do,” or “Good morning.” I have had no other talk with him. I do not remember to have read the case of a Mrs. Dove in the newspapers, but I may have done so. I have heard spoken of a case that lately occurred at Leeds of a lady who was said to have been poisoned by her husband, but I did not read it. It was not mentioned to me by Mr. Stevens, nor by Mr. Gardner, nor by Mr. Hatton.

Were you told when you heard of it what the symptoms of Mrs. Dove were?—I think not. I merely heard there had been strychnine used at Leeds, another strychnine case.

Were the symptoms of strychnine ever mentioned to you by any one?—No, never.

When, and to whom, did you first use the expression “twitching,” which you mentioned so repeatedly yesterday?—To the coroner, I did. If I did not mention twitching, I mentioned something to the same effect. I will not swear I used that word at the coroner’s. I cannot remember when I first used the word “twitching.” I cannot remember when I first used the word “jerking” to anybody. I will undertake to swear it has never been used to me by anybody.

You stated yesterday that on the Sunday some broth was brought in a breakfastcup between twelve and one o’clock; that you took it up to Cook’s bedroom; that you drank about two tablespoonfuls; that you were sick the whole afternoon, and vomited till five o’clock. Did you state one word about that in your deposition before the coroner?—It never occurred to me until three days afterwards.

Did you state before the coroner that there was nothing peculiar in the taste of the broth?—I believe I was examined three times before the coroner. My attention had been called to the fact of broth having been sent over on one occasion, but I do not remember whether it was the first. I was asked if I had tasted it, and I stated I had tasted it, and thought it was very good. It never occurred to me to mention that I was sick and vomited frequently in the course of the afternoon.

You went to bed in consequence of the vomiting?—Yes.

E. Mills

I suppose sickness of that kind repeated frequently in the course of an afternoon is not a very common occurrence with you?—No, I have a bilious attack sometimes, but not such violent vomiting as I had that afternoon. I could not at all account for it at the time. I only took two tablespoonfuls. The vomiting came on from half an hour to an hour after I took them.

On the Saturday morning did Cook express a wish to have coffee for breakfast, or was it from Palmer the first you heard that his breakfast was to be coffee?—I do not know whether Palmer told me to bring coffee or whether it was Cook. I never knew Mr. Cook to take coffee in bed before. He generally took tea.

I understood you to say yesterday Palmer came over at eight o’clock and ordered a cup of coffee for Cook. Do you adhere to that?—I cannot remember whether Palmer ordered it or not. If I said it yesterday it is correct, but I cannot remember whether Palmer ordered the coffee or not now. I will swear now that Palmer ordered the coffee, and I took it and gave it into Cook’s hands, and Palmer was there.

You swear to it now?—Yes.

You doubted it a moment ago?—If that was stated yesterday I do not doubt it was correct.

Is that your only reason for stating it to be correct?—I believe it to be correct.

Will you swear that it is correct?—Yes; it is no doubt correct if I said so.

Why should that make it more correct if you cannot say it now from your own recollection?—I cannot remember as well to-day as I did yesterday. I cannot remember that I stated before the coroner that Cook had coffee for breakfast at eight o’clock, that he ate nothing, and that he vomited directly he had swallowed it, and that up to the time I had given him the coffee I had not seen Palmer. I cannot remember whether I stated before the coroner anything about the pillbox on Monday night. It was sent over wrapped up in paper. I will swear that Palmer was there between nine and ten o’clock. He brought a jar of jelly to the Talbot, and I opened it. I should say he was there nearer to ten than nine. I do not recollect whether he was there when I left Cook at half-past ten.

You stated yesterday that you asked Cook on the Tuesday afternoon what he thought the cause of his illness was, and he said, “The pills which Palmer gave me at half-past ten”?—Yes.

Did you say that before the coroner?—No.

E. Mills

Have you been questioned by any one since Mr. Cook’s death respecting what you did say before the coroner as to when these pills might have been given or respecting anything you have said about these pills before the coroner?—Yes; I was questioned by Dr. Collier at Hitchingly. I did not tell him that the gentleman in London had altered my evidence on that point, and that my evidence was now to be that “Cook said the pills which Palmer gave him at half-past ten made him ill.”

Did he state anything about your evidence being altered since?—Yes; he said he had not got that down in what I had given to the coroner in the coroner’s papers. I said “No, I thought it was down in some of the papers. I had given it to a gentleman in London.” The evidence has been altered by myself since. I do not remember who the gentleman was that I had given it to. I gave it to him at Dolly’s. The gentleman came to me at Dolly’s and asked if I would answer him a few questions. I said I would, and I saw him in a sitting-room. I was with him about half an hour. He asked me not very many questions, and during the time I was answering the questions he was writing. He did not tell me who he was or whom he came from, but he mentioned Mr. Stevens’ name.

What did he say about Mr. Stevens?—Mr. Stevens was with him. He called Mr. Stevens by name.

Why did you not tell us that before?—You did not ask me.

Then, although you did not know who he was, you knew he was an acquaintance of Mr. Stevens because he came with him?—He did. All that I said then was taken down. I do not remember saying before the coroner that when Cook was ill on Monday night and sitting up in bed beating the bed-clothes he said, “I cannot lie down; I shall suffocate if I do.” I do not remember whether I mentioned the word “jerking” before the coroner.

Did you say before the coroner, “He would throw his head back and raise himself up again”?—Yes.

You will say you said that?—Yes. I do not know whether I mentioned the word “jerking.” I said the whole of the body was in a jumping, snatching way. I believe I mentioned it was difficult for him to speak, he was so short of breath. I did not mention about him calling “murder” twice. I do not remember whether I mentioned before the coroner that Mr. Cook said the pills stuck fast in his throat and he could not swallow them. I did not answer the coroner anything more than he asked me. If he had asked me I should have answered him as I am answering now.

The first time that you were examined before the coroner was Dr. Taylor present?—I believe he was.

E. Mills

Were you not recalled after you had been examined once for the purpose of describing the symptoms for Dr. Taylor to hear?—I was not. I was never examined as to the symptoms when I knew the medical gentlemen were there. I cannot remember how Mr. Palmer was dressed when he came over on the Tuesday night. He had a plaid dressing-gown on, but I cannot remember what sort of cap he had. When Mr. Jones asked me to go into the room after Mr. Cook’s death I went in at once, and it was then that I saw Palmer searching the pockets of the coat. When I went in he did not seem at all confused.

Re-examined by Mr. James—I was under examination before the coroner perhaps a couple of hours on different occasions. The coroner put the questions to me, and the coroner’s clerk, I believe, wrote down my answers. The coroner asked me if the broth had any effect on me, and I said not that I was aware of.

By Mr. Serjeant Shee—What brought to your mind afterwards the vomiting after taking the broth?—I do not know. I believe it was some one else in the house that mentioned my sickness first. It did not occur to me until some one else mentioned it about a week after the coroner was there.

Re-examination resumed—I cannot remember who it was, but it was some of my fellow-servants in the house. A person of the name of Dr. Collier called upon me and represented that he was for the Crown. He asked me questions about the inquest and about the death of Mr. Cook. That would be about three weeks or a month ago, at Hitchingley.

J. Gardner

James Gardner, examined by the Attorney-General—I am an attorney, and attended for Mr. Stevens at the inquest. The inquest lasted five days, and on each of these days I had several times occasion to expostulate with Mr. Ward, the coroner, as to questions which he put or omitted to put, and I observed that the clerk omitted to take down answers given to the questions which had been put.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—A great many questions were put by the jury after the examination of the professional men.

By the Attorney-General—The jury made very strong observations as to the necessity for further questions.

Objection to statement of these observations allowed.

Anne Brooks

Mrs. Anne Brooks, examined by the Attorney-General—I live in Manchester, and am in the habit of attending race meetings. I was at Shrewsbury races in November, 1855. About eight o’clock in the evening of Wednesday, the 14th, I met Palmer in the street. I had some conversation with him as to horses that were running during that week at Shrewsbury. About half-past ten the same evening I went, along with some friends, to the Raven, where I knew Palmer was staying. I had been there frequently before. I left my friends downstairs and went upstairs to go to Palmer’s room, which I knew. As I approached Palmer’s room a servant called my attention to Palmer himself, who was standing at a small table in the passage. When I first saw him he had a glass tumbler in his hand, in which there appeared to be a small quantity of liquid like water. I did not see him put anything in the glass. I saw him shaking up the fluid that was in it. There was a light in the passage. It was nearer to me than to him. He held up the glass as if he were looking at the light through it. He then said to me, “I will be with you presently.” He noticed me the moment I got to the top of the stairs. After he made that remark to me he stood for a minute or two holding the glass in his hand up to the light once or twice and shaking it now and then. The only observation he made was about the fine weather we had. After this he carried the glass into a sitting room adjoining his own. The room, I imagined, was empty, as I heard no one speaking. He remained there two or three minutes, and came out with the glass still in his hand, and carried it into his own sitting room, shutting the door after him. Three or four minutes afterwards he came out to me, bringing me a glass—it might be the same one, it was very like it—with some brandy and water in it. I took the brandy and water, and it produced no unpleasant consequences in me. We had some conversation regarding the next day’s racing, and he said he should back his own horse “Chicken.” “Chicken” lost. Palmer never told me afterwards whether he had won or lost on the race.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—I am a married woman, and am in the habit of attending race meetings, but my husband does not sanction my going when he knows about it. Several people were taken ill in Shrewsbury on the Wednesday. One of my company was dreadfully ill, and there was a wonder what could cause it; we made an observation. We thought the water might have been poisoned. We were all affected the same way by sickness.

Can you tell me in what way it affected persons?

By the Attorney-General—Any person you saw. Whom did you see yourself affected in that way?—There was a lady that came to meet me there; she was one; and there was another party in my company who was so ill that he could not go to the races on Thursday.

By Mr. Serjeant Shee—They were affected by sickness and purging.

You saw Palmer with the glass in his hand?—I did.

Anne Brooks

Did he put it up to the light?—He held it just carelessly up. I did not see any substance in the glass. He was doing this in a passage that led to a great many rooms. I could not say if there was more than one light in the passage. I think it was a chandelier. He said, “I will be with you presently,” when he carried the glass into the room which I supposed to have been unoccupied.

Did he also say that while he was holding it to the light?—Yes, just in this manner, quite carelessly.

And at that time you thought nothing of it?—I thought he was mixing up some cooling draught, and was waiting for some water. I was not examined before the coroner.

By the Attorney-General—The brandy and water he gave me was cold, not hot. I have known Palmer for a great number of years as a racing man.

L. Barnes

Lavinia Barnes, examined by Mr. James—In November, 1855, I was in service as waitress at the Talbot Arms. I knew both Palmer and Mr. Cook. I saw Mr. Cook on 12th November on his way to the Shrewsbury Races. He seemed quite well then. I saw him on Thursday, the 15th, on his return from the races. On Friday I saw him between nine and ten, when he came back after having dined with Palmer. He was quite sober. I saw Mr. Cook twice on Saturday. On that day I remember some broth being sent over, which I took up to Mr. Cook. He could not take it, as he said he was too sick. I brought the broth down to the kitchen. I saw Palmer, and told him that Cook would not take the broth, as he was too sick. Palmer said he must take it, and it was taken up again to him by Elizabeth Mills. I did not see any broth being brought over on the Sunday. Between twelve and one on the Sunday Elizabeth Mills was taken ill, and had to leave her work and go to bed. I saw her; she was vomiting violently. Between four and five she returned to work, and complained to me of having been ill from the vomiting. I saw some broth in a basin in the kitchen on the Sunday. I do not know where it was made. It was in a sick cup with two handles. The cup did not belong to the Talbot Arms, and it went back to Palmer’s. Between seven and eight on Sunday morning I heard Palmer say he was going to London on the Monday. On Monday I saw Cook after dinner. Mr. Saunders, the trainer, visited him, and I took up some brandy and water to them. On that night I slept in the room next Mr. Cook’s. I saw Palmer between eight and nine that night going upstairs in the direction of Cook’s room. I saw him in the room afterwards between twelve and one o’clock. About twelve o’clock I was in the kitchen, when Mr. Cook’s bell rang violently. I went up to his room, and found he was very ill. He asked me to send for Mr. Palmer. He was screaming “murder,” and was in violent pain. He said he was suffocating. His eyes looked very wild, and were standing a great way out of his head. He was beating the bed with his hands. I sent the boots for Palmer, and went and called Elizabeth Mills. After Palmer came I went up to the room again. Cook seemed to be more composed. Palmer told him not to be alarmed. I saw Cook drinking a darkish mixture in a glass. I cannot remember who gave it to him, but Palmer was in the room when it was given. When Cook put the glass to his mouth he snapped at it. I both saw and heard him do it. He vomited the black-looking draught. I left the room between twelve and one, and he seemed more composed then. I saw him again on the Tuesday, and he seemed to be much better. A few minutes before twelve o’clock on the Tuesday night Elizabeth Mills and I were in the kitchen. Mr. Cook’s bell rang, and Elizabeth Mills went up to answer it. I followed her upstairs, but did not go into the room. I heard Cook scream. Elizabeth Mills went for Palmer, and he came. He was dressed in his usual way, with a black coat on. There was nothing peculiar about his dress. He wore a cap. After Palmer went into the room I remained on the landing. I did not hear what was going on inside. Palmer came out and went downstairs for something. When he came out Elizabeth Mills asked him how Mr. Cook was, and he replied, “Not so bad by a fiftieth part.” She and I were both together when he said this. I went into the room before Mr. Cook died. Mr. Jones was there in attendance upon him. Before I went into the room, and when Palmer was there, I heard Cook ask to be turned over. After I went into the room I do not remember hearing anything. I came out again before Cook’s death, and did not see him die. I returned to the room afterwards, and saw Palmer there with one of Cook’s coats in his hands. He was feeling the pockets. I also saw him feel under the bolster I left him in the room with the dead body. On the Thursday following I met Palmer in the hall of the hotel. He asked me for the key of Cook’s room, and I fetched it from the bar. He said he wanted some books and papers and a paper knife, which were to go back to the stationer’s where he had them from, or he should have to pay for them. I went into the room with him. While there he asked me to go to Miss Bond, the housekeeper, for some books she had. I brought them back with me to the room, and found Palmer there searching on the chest of drawers among some books and clothes belonging to Mr. Cook. I thought it was the paper knife he was looking for, as he said, “I cannot find the knife anywhere.” Miss Bond then came into the room, and I left. I saw Mr. Jones, who had visited Cook on the Tuesday, on the Friday with Palmer. I heard him ask Palmer if he knew where Cook’s betting book was. I cannot remember what Palmer replied. He said it would be sure to be found, and asked me and the chambermaid to go and look for it. He also said, “It was not worth anything to anybody but Cook.” This would be between three and four o’clock, and Mr. Stevens, who was at the Talbot Arms that day, left about half-past four. We went to look for the betting book. Palmer did not go with us. We searched under the bed and all round the room. We did not look in the chests of drawers, of which there were two in the room, both unlocked. We went downstairs and told Palmer we could not find the book. He said, “Oh, it will be found somewhere; I will go with you and look myself.” He did not go, but went out of the house, and I did not see him afterwards. I cannot say how long Palmer was in the room on the Thursday. There was no reason why we did not search the drawers for the betting book. There were some people in the room with Mr. Cook’s corpse, nailing the coffin, and they stood at the side of the drawers.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—Shortly after Cook refused to take the broth, saying he was too sick, Palmer came over and said, “He must have it.”

Did he say why he must have it?—No.

Did he say anything to the effect, “Why, he has eaten nothing for several days”?—I cannot remember that he did.

Did he ask whether anything had been eaten by him?—Not of me.

You know, in fact, that Mr. Cook had had no substantial food?—He had some coffee and cocoa, and something like that.

You say that on the Monday evening you saw Palmer between eight and nine o’clock going upstairs. Are you sure it was before nine o’clock?—I am not quite certain.

Are you sure it was before half-past nine o’clock?—No, I did not pay particular attention to what the time was.

Are you quite sure it was before ten o’clock?—Yes, I knew he had been to London.

Did you know what hour the train came back from London?—I did not. An omnibus goes from the hotel to the station, starting from the hotel about half-past seven. It is not one mile from the station. I can give no notion of what time the express train comes into Rugeley from London, nor do I know if it stops at Rugeley.

Do you persist that it must have been before ten o’clock that you saw Palmer come in?—I think it was.

May it not have been a quarter past ten o’clock? You can easily have been mistaken about an hour; are you quite certain it was before ten o’clock?—I cannot remember now.

You have stated that when Palmer left on the Monday evening he gave Cook something to drink in a glass; he snapped at the glass, and you said, “I cannot remember who gave it to him”; did you see the glass in Mr. Cook’s hands?—I cannot remember whether I saw the glass in Cook’s hands.

L. Barnes

Did you see his hand up to the glass?—I think I did. I think it was as if he was going to catch hold of it, but somebody else was holding it.

Did you see the hand touch the glass?—I cannot remember that. I remember some one was holding it for him.

Might he not be holding it too?—He might.

Anne Rowley

Anne Rowley, examined by Mr. Welsby—I live at Rugeley, and have been employed by Mr. Palmer as charwoman. On the Saturday before Mr. Cook died I remember being sent by Palmer to Mr. Robinson, of the Albion, for a little broth for Mr. Cook. The Albion is an inn in Rugeley, and a small distance from the Talbot Arms. I brought the broth, which was not warm, to Palmer’s house and put it by the fire. I left it at the fire and went back to my work in the kitchen. When the broth was hot Mr. Palmer brought it to me in the back kitchen. He poured it into a cup, which I held while he did so. He told me to take it across to the Talbot Arms for Mr. Cook, and to say to whoever I gave it to to ask Mr. Cook if he would take a little bread or a little toast with it, and to say that Mr. Smith had sent it. I took it to the Talbot Arms. He did not say why I was to say Mr. Smith had sent it. Mr. Jeremiah Smith is an attorney in Rugeley. He goes under the name of Jerry Smith, and is a friend of Palmer. I gave the broth to Lavinia Barnes.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—Mr. Smith was in the habit of putting up at the Albion, and took his meals there a good deal. He was intimate with Mr. Cook. I have not known them to dine together, but Mr. Cook was to have dined at Mr. Smith’s that day, but was unable to do so. The time between the broth being brought in to me and the time it was taken to the Talbot Arms would be about five minutes.

C. Hawley

Charles Hawley, examined by Mr. Bodkin—I am a gardener in Rugeley, and was occasionally employed by the prisoner in that capacity. I was in his house on the Sunday before Mr. Cook died, between twelve and one, and Mr. Palmer asked me whether I would take some broth to Mr. Cook. He gave me some broth in a small cup with a cover, and told me to take it over to the Talbot Arms. I gave it to one of the servant girls, either Mills or Lavinia Barnes. I cannot tell whether the broth was hot or not.

Sarah Bond

Sarah Bond, examined by Mr. Huddleston—I was housekeeper at the Talbot Arms in November last. I saw Mr. Cook on the Thursday after he returned from Shrewsbury Races. I heard him say he was very poorly. About eight o’clock on Sunday evening I saw him in bed. He said he had been very ill, but was better. Soon after I came into the room I saw the prisoner. I asked what he thought about Mr. Cook, and he told me he was better. On the Saturday night I spoke to him about the advisability of having some one to be with Mr. Cook during the night. He said that either he or Jerry Smith would be there. I also spoke to him about it on the Sunday night, but he said that Cook was so much better he would not require any one. He would be much better without it. I asked him if Daniel Jenkins, the boots, should not sleep in the room, but he said he would much rather not. On Monday morning, a little before seven, he came into the kitchen to me. He said Cook was better, and asked me to make a cup of coffee for him. I made the coffee. He remained in the kitchen while I was making it, and took it from me to give to Mr. Cook. He said he was going to London that day, and he had asked Mr. Jones to come to be with Cook while he was away. Between eleven and twelve on Monday night the waitress came and told me that Mr. Cook was very ill. I went up to his room. There was no one with him. He was sitting up a little on the bed, and seemed disappointed when I came in that it was not Palmer. He said it was Mr. Palmer he wanted. I did not remain in the room above two or three minutes. I did not go downstairs, but remained on the landing, and was still there when Mr. Palmer came. I could see into the room from where I was standing. Palmer went into the room, and I heard he was giving him some pills. He then came out to fetch some medicine, and was not many minutes away before he came back. After he returned, I heard Mr. Cook was very sick and very ill. He told Mr. Palmer he thought he should die, and he must not leave him. Mr. Palmer came out again, and I asked him if Cook had any relatives. He said he had only a stepfather. I saw Cook on Tuesday, between three and four, when Mr. Jones came. I took him a little jelly shortly after six. He seemed very anxious for it, and said if he did not have something he thought he should die. He seemed a little better. I did not see him again alive.

Sarah Bond

Cross-examined by Mr. Grove—I did not see Palmer on the Monday evening until a little before twelve. The last train, which stops at Rugeley at eight o’clock, is not an express train. The express does not stop at Rugeley, and passengers coming by the express have to take some conveyance from Stafford. I cannot say when they would arrive in the ordinary course. On the Monday night when I went up to Cook’s room he seemed disappointed that it was not Mr. Palmer. He seemed to be worse than he was. At that time Barnes had gone to fetch the doctor. Mr. Palmer came directly I left the room. I was led to ask what relatives the man had as he seemed so very ill, and I heard him telling Mr. Palmer he thought he should die.

W. H. Jones

Mr. William Henry Jones, examined by the Attorney-General—I am a surgeon and medical practitioner at Lutterworth, and have been in practice for fifteen years. I have known the deceased, Cook, intimately for nearly five years. I have known of his acquaintance with William Palmer for over a year. He looked upon my house at Lutterworth as his home, and I attended him if there was anything the matter with him. His health was generally good, but he was not very robust. I think he hunted and played cricket. On the Tuesday of the Shrewsbury Races, the day on which his horse “Polestar” won, I spent the day with him at his invitation. We dined together in the evening at the Raven Hotel. He accompanied me when I left for the station. On our way there we called at the house of Mr. Fraill, the clerk of the course. I was present during a conversation they had along with Whitehouse, the jockey. Cook produced his betting book and calculated his winnings. He had seven to one. Cook was with me till I left the hotel at ten o’clock. He was not in the least the worse of liquor, and seemed to be in his usual health. On the Monday I received the following letter from Mr. Palmer:—

November 18, 1855.

My dear Sir,—Mr. Cook was taken ill at Shrewsbury, and obliged to call in a medical man; since then he has been confined to his bed here with a very severe bilious attack, combined with diarrhœa, and I think it advisable for you to come and see him as soon as possible.

W. H. Jones

I was ill on the Monday when I received the letter, and did not arrive at the Talbot Arms, Rugeley, till half-past three on Tuesday afternoon. I saw Cook there, and he expressed himself as very comfortable, but said he had been very ill at Shrewsbury. I examined Cook in Palmer’s presence. His pulse was natural and his tongue was clean. When I remarked upon this to Palmer he said, “You should have seen it before.” I prescribed nothing for Cook at that time. I visited him several times in the course of that afternoon, and he seemed improved in every way. I gave him a little toast and water, which was in the room, and which he vomited. There was no diarrhœa as far as I was aware. Mr. Bamford, who I learned from Palmer had been attending, came about seven o’clock. He expressed his satisfaction with Cook’s improved state of health. Whilst Bamford, Palmer, and I were consulting what we should prescribe for him, Cook objected to the pills he had had the previous night. He said they made him ill. The three of us then withdrew, and Palmer proposed that Mr. Bamford should make up the morphine pills as before, but not to mention what they contained, as Cook objected so much to morphine. Mr. Bamford agreed to it, and went away. Palmer and I went into Cook’s room. I was in and out of the room during the whole evening, and he seemed very comfortable. I observed no more vomiting nor any diarrhœa. There were no bilious symptoms whatever, nor were there any signs of his having recently suffered from a bilious attack. About eight o’clock I went with Palmer over to his house. I returned to Cook’s room in about a quarter of an hour. Palmer came back about eleven o’clock with a box of pills. He opened them in my presence and showed me the directions on a slip of paper round the box. He remarked, “What an excellent hand for an old man upwards of eighty to write.” It was very good writing indeed. Palmer proposed to Cook to take the pills, but he protested, as they had made him so ill the previous night. Ultimately he did take them, and he immediately vomited into the utensil. Both Palmer and I, at his request, searched the utensil for the pills, but we found nothing but the toast and water, so that the pills were retained. After he vomited he lay down very comfortably, and we left him. Before he had taken the pills he had expressed himself stronger, and had got up and sat in a chair. During the evening he had been very jocose, speaking of what he should do during the winter, and of his future plans and prospects. After he had taken those two pills, at eleven o’clock, I went downstairs and had some supper. I returned about twelve to his room, had some conversation with him, and then went to bed, it being arranged that I should sleep in his room, which was a double-bedded one, that night. At the time I last talked to him he seemed rather sleepy, but quite as well as usual, and there was nothing to excite any apprehension in my mind. I had been in bed ten minutes, and had not gone to sleep, when he suddenly started up in bed and called out, “Doctor, get up; I am going to be ill; ring the bell for Mr. Palmer.” I rang the bell, and the chambermaid came to the door. He himself called out to her, “Fetch Mr. Palmer.” He asked me to rub his neck. I rubbed the back part of his neck and supported him with my arm while doing so. There was a stiffening of the muscles; a sort of hardness about the neck. Palmer came very soon indeed; two or three minutes at the most. He made the remark, “I was never so quickly dressed in my life.” I did not observe how he was dressed, as I was so engaged. He gave Cook two pills, which he said were ammonia pills. Directly he swallowed the pills he uttered loud screams, threw himself back in the bed, and was dreadfully convulsed. As the pills had immediately before been taken, it certainly could not have been from their action. He said to me, “Raise me up or I shall be suffocated.” The convulsions lasted five or ten minutes. It was at the commencement of the convulsions that he called out to raise him up or he should be suffocated. All the muscular fibres were convulsed; there was a violent contraction of every muscle of the body, and a stiffening of the limbs. When he called out to me to raise him, I endeavoured to do so with the assistance of Mr. Palmer, but found it was quite impossible owing to the rigidity of the limbs. When he found I could not raise him up he asked me to turn him over, which I did. He was quite sensible. After I had turned him over I listened to the action of his heart. I found it gradually to weaken. I requested Palmer to fetch some spirits of ammonia in the hopes of reviving him. Palmer fetched a bottle from his house. He was not away above a minute. When he returned, Cook’s heart was gradually sinking, and life was almost extinct. He died very quietly. He was not able to take the ammonia, and it was very soon after Palmer returned that he died. From the time when he raised himself in bed and called upon me to go for Palmer to the time when he died would be from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour. In my judgment, as a medical man, he died from tetanus, or, in ordinary English parlance, lockjaw.

Does it involve, ordinarily speaking, a mere locked jaw?—Yes, that is the common term. Locked jaw is one of the symptoms of tetanus. Every muscle in the body was affected in the same manner.

How would you express in ordinary English the general symptoms of what you call tetanus in one word?—Violent spasmodic affection of all the muscles of the body. That effects the immediate cause of death by stopping the action of the heart, and also the breath, from its effect on the diaphragm. It affects the respiratory muscles and stops respiration. It is that spasm of the respiratory muscles which causes the sense of suffocation. When death took place he was still upon his side. He remained in that position after death. I did not turn the body upon its back. The outward appearance of the body after death was very dark. As there was only one candle in the room, I could not make the observation I otherwise should have made. Both his hands, the left hand particularly, which I had in my hand, were clenched. I observed the clenching of the hands immediately the attack took place, when he threw himself back immediately after taking the pills Palmer brought over. When I was rubbing his neck I did not see the hands clenched.

Did you observe either before or at the time of death, or immediately afterwards, anything in the position of the head and neck?—Yes; the head was quite bent back.

When you say bent back, do you mean bent back into an unnatural position?—Yes; by spasmodic action. The body was twisted back like a bow; the backbone was twisted back.

W. H. Jones

By Lord Campbell—When did you observe that appearance—immediately after death, or all the time?—Indeed, after throwing himself back, he was immediately drawn back.

Examination resumed—If I had placed the body at that time upon the back, on a level surface, it would have rested upon the head and heels. As his face was turned away from me, I did not observe anything immediately after or at the time of death about the jaw. After death I saw the jaw was not in its natural condition; it was all affected by spasmodic action. I spoke to Palmer about the laying out of the body, and left him alone in the room while I went downstairs to see Miss Bond. I returned in a few minutes and found Palmer with Mr. Cook’s coat in his hand. He remarked that I, being Cook’s nearest friend, should take possession of his effects. I did so, and took possession of his watch and his purse, containing five sovereigns and five shillings. That was all I could find. I did not find any betting book or any papers. After that, before Palmer left, he said something to me upon the subject of affairs as between Cook and himself. He said, as near as I can recollect, “It is a bad thing for me, as I was responsible for £3000 or £4000, and I hope Mr. Cook’s friends will not let me lose it. If they do not assist me, all my horses will be seized.” Nothing was said by him about securities or paper.

By Lord Campbell—In the consultation which we three medical men had on Tuesday night nothing was said about the symptoms, the spasms, which had occurred the night before.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—I know that Mr. Cook had been under treatment by Dr. Savage for some time.

You knew he had treated himself a good deal with mercurial treatment?—No, not a great deal. I know that he had had a sore throat for two or three months. In the summer it was bad. It was slightly ulcerated; not a very extreme case; the back part of the tongue. He could swallow, but it gave him a little pain occasionally. It depended upon what he did swallow. I knew he had found it necessary to apply caustic to his tongue. For two months before his death he had ceased to do it. After that he never complained of occasional pain in his throat or his tongue. I did not see much of him during these two months. He was attending most of the races.

W. H. Jones

Was he apprehensive about some spots which appeared upon his body?—I never heard him mention it. I had heard him express apprehensions of his being affected by secondary symptoms of venereal disease. His habits were, generally speaking, correct, though he may occasionally have gone astray, and perhaps was not very particular. I do not know that he had a chancre at the time he died, although I believe he had one twelve months ago. I was not present at either of the post-mortem examinations. I was at Shrewsbury Races with him on the Tuesday, and I knew he was very anxious, as the winning of the race was of great consequence to him. After the race was run he was so excited that for two or three minutes he could not speak to me. He was elated and happy the rest of the day, but he was not at all intoxicated. He was a very temperate man. That night when he was first attacked, and when Palmer came, Cook said, “Palmer, give me the remedy you gave me the night before.” I was rubbing his neck for about five minutes, I should think. After I turned him over on his side to the time of his death three or four minutes would elapse. He died so very quietly that I could hardly tell when he did die. I have seen cases of tetanus before.

You said nothing about tetanus at the inquest?—Yes, I did; convulsions and tetanus.

Did you not say at the time it was from over-excitement that he died?—I could not tell the cause. I was so much taken by surprise. I said I had no idea of the cause of death.

Whatever you said about “violent convulsions,” did you say, “I could not tell the cause; I imagined at the time it was from over-excitement”?—Yes.

[The deposition of the witness before the coroner was read.]

You say in your deposition you had been in your bed a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes. Was it not as much as twenty minutes?—I do not think it was. I had not begun to dose. I do not remember ever having stated I thought he died of epilepsy. Mr. Bamford said it was apoplexy; I said it was not. I could not make up my mind what sort of fit it was. I said it was more like an epileptic fit than apoplexy.

Re-examined—There was a partnership between Cook and Palmer about the mare “Pereine,” but it was discontinued some months before Cook’s death, and the mare became the property of Palmer. I have only seen one case of traumatic tetanus.

Was that from a wound?—From a wound in the thumb. It ended in death.

How long was the patient in dying from the time he received the wound?—Three days. The patient died of lockjaw. I have seen cases of epilepsy.

Are there any such symptoms in epileptic fits as those convulsive spasms of the muscles?—No; the consciousness is lost, and there is none of this rigidity of the muscles. In apoplexy consciousness is generally lost too. I am satisfied in my own mind that this case was not apoplexy.

W. H. Jones

By Lord Campbell—Supposing he had any secondary symptoms of syphilis, do you think they could have produced the symptoms you saw on the Tuesday night?—No, I say not, decidedly, and for two months before death he was clear of them, and the throat was well.

E. Mills

Elizabeth Mills was recalled and said that on the Monday morning Cook told her that during the night he had been disturbed. He said, “I was just mad for two minutes.” She asked him why he did not ring the bell, and he replied he thought we should all be fast asleep, and it passed over. He said he thought he was disturbed by hearing a quarrel in the street.

By Lord Campbell—What did he say about the street?—He thought he was disturbed by hearing a quarrel in the street. He was not sure that it was that which had made him ill; that he might have been asleep, and the quarrel might have disturbed him. I cannot positively recollect whether he said so or not.

H. Savage

Henry Savage, examined—I am a physician. I have known the deceased man Cook for about four years. He was not a man of robust constitution, but his general health was good. In the spring of 1855 he consulted me about some spots on his skin—one on his arm and one on his forehead. He had two shallow ulcers on the tongue corresponding to bad teeth. He thought these spots and ulcerations were secondary syphilitic symptoms, and had been undergoing a mild mercurial course. I recommended its immediate discontinuance, and prescribed him quinine as a tonic, and an aperient containing cream of tartar, magnesia, and sulphur. I never at any time gave him antimony. He was quite well by the end of May. He still continued to see me, as he was not quite sure about the correctness of my notions of his not having syphilis. I examined him from time to time, and the only thing the matter with his throat was that one of his tonsils was slightly enlarged; it was red and tender. There was nothing of a syphilitic character in the appearance of his throat. I saw him about a fortnight before his death, when I recommended him to go abroad for two years, as I wished to get him away from his turf associations. I examined him thoroughly at that time, and beyond a very shallow scar of some former excoriation, to which he told me he was liable, there was nothing venereal about him. There was no chancre nor any sore on any other part of his body.

Cross-examined—He was a weak man, and apt to take the advice of any person he might be in company with. The last time I saw him he had a redness over one tonsil, showing there was tenderness. He had three or four superficial ulcers on his lips.

C. Newton

Charles Newton, examined—I am assistant to Mr. Salt, practising surgeon at Rugeley. On Monday, 19th November, about nine o’clock in the evening, Palmer came in to Mr. Salt’s surgery. He asked me for three grains of strychnia, which I gave to him. I do not think he was in the shop above two minutes. Between eleven and twelve on the next day I saw him again in the shop of Mr. Hawkins, a druggist. He was in the shop when I went in. He put his hand between my shoulders and said he wished to speak to me. I went to the door with him and out into the street. He asked me when Mr. Edwin Salt, the son of Mr. Salt, was going up to his farm at Sudbury. Palmer had nothing to do with that at all. While we were talking, a Mr. Brassington came up and entered into conversation with me about some bills for money he had against my employer. Palmer left us and returned to the shop, and came out again while we were still talking. He went in the direction of his own house, which is between 200 and 300 yards away. I went into the shop after my conversation with Mr. Brassington and saw Roberts, who was serving. I know Mr. Thirlby, who deals in drugs. He was formerly an assistant to Palmer, and succeeded to his business. He dispenses all Palmer’s medicines for him. About seven o’clock in the evening of Sunday, the 25th November, I went to Palmer’s house in consequence of being sent for by him. There was no one else there. He asked me what dose of strychnia would kill a dog, and whether it would be found in the stomach. I told him a grain, and that there would be no inflammation, and I did not think it would be found. I think he said, “It is all right,” as if speaking to himself, and snapped his fingers. I heard the next day that the post-mortem examination of Cook’s body was to take place. On my way to the post-mortem, about ten o’clock in the forenoon, I saw Palmer at Bamford’s, and I told him where I was going. He, Dr. Harland, and I went down together to the Talbot Arms for the examination. Palmer and I were left alone together in the entrance to the hall. He remarked it would be a stiff job, and asked me to go over to his house for some brandy. We did so. While we were taking the brandy he said, “You will find this fellow suffering from diseased throat; he has had syphilis.” We then returned to the Talbot Arms. I was examined before the coroner, but I said nothing about giving Palmer the three grains of strychnia on Monday night.

C. Newton

Cross-examined—When I was first examined on behalf of the Crown I mentioned the circumstance of the conversation about poisoning the dog. Before that I mentioned it to Mr. Salt, but I cannot remember when. I gave a statement to Mr. Gardner some time after the inquest. I mentioned about the dog, but did not speak about the 3 grains of strychnia. I made no mention about these matters at the inquest. I gave evidence about my conversation with Palmer at the door of Hawkins’ shop. I knew my evidence was with reference to the supposed purchase of strychnia by Palmer at the shop. The first time I informed the Crown with reference to the purchase of the 3 grains on the Monday was on Tuesday last. At the post-mortem examination I did not point out any chancre to the medical men there. It was not mentioned at all, and I did not see one nor the marks of one.

Re-examined—The reason why I did not mention about the purchase of the 3 grains of strychnia before last Tuesday to the Crown was because Mr. Salt was not on speaking terms with Mr. Palmer, and I thought Mr. Salt would be angry at my letting him have it. I communicated the fact of my own accord.

The Court then adjourned.

Third Day, Friday, 16th May, 1856.

The Court met at ten o’clock.

C. J. Roberts

Charles Joseph Roberts, examined by Mr. James—In November last I was an apprentice to Mr. Hawkins, a chemist at Rugeley. I remember that between eleven and twelve o’clock on Tuesday, 20th November, Palmer came into the shop and asked me first for 2 drachms of prussic acid. Whilst I was putting it up for him Mr. Newton came in. Palmer said he wanted to speak to him, and the two of them went out of the shop together. I saw Brassington come up and speak to Newton when Palmer left them and came back into the shop. I was putting the prussic acid into the bottle, and he asked me for 6 grains of strychnine and 2 drachms of Batley’s solution of opium. While I was making the things up Palmer stood at the shop door with his back to me, looking into the street. He then took them away and paid for them. After he left Newton came into the shop, and I had some conversation with him. It would be two years before this transaction that Palmer bought drugs in our shop. He always dealt with Thirlby, who previously was his assistant, and is now practising as an apothecary in Palmer’s name.

Cross-examined—I did not make any entry of the transaction in our book. I am not in the habit of doing so when things are sold over the counter.

W. V. Stevens

William Vernon Stevens, examined by the Attorney-General—I am a retired merchant living in the city. I am the step-father of John Parsons Cook, having married his father’s widow eighteen years ago. He did not live with me, but we were always on friendly terms. He became entitled to property worth about £12,000. The last time I saw him alive was at Euston station at two o’clock on the afternoon of 5th November. He looked better than I had seen him for some time, and I said, “My boy, you look very well; you do not look anything of an invalid now.” He struck himself firmly on the chest and said he was quite well. The next time I saw him was after his death, information of which I received from Mr. Jones, who came to my house on the Wednesday. I went to Lutterworth on the Thursday to search for a will and any papers he had left. I found a will. When I reached Rugeley the next day I went to the Talbot Arms, and met Palmer in the passage. I had only seen him once before. Mr. Jones introduced us in the inn, and we then went up and viewed the body. I was greatly struck by the appearance of the countenance, the tightness of the muscles across the face. We all then went down to one of the sitting rooms, and I said to the prisoner that I understood from Mr. Jones he knew something of my son’s affairs. He replied, “Yes, there are £4000 worth of bills out of his, and I am sorry to say my name is to them; but I have got a paper drawn up by a lawyer, signed by Mr. Cook, to show that I have never had any benefit from them.” I told him I feared there would be no money to pay them, and asked if he had no horses or property. He replied that he had horses, but they were mortgaged. He mentioned one debt of £300 that was owing to Cook. It had nothing to do with sporting matters, and was a personal debt from a relative of his. I then turned round to Palmer and said that, whether Cook had left anything or not, he must be buried. Palmer immediately said, “Oh! I will bury him myself if that is all.” I replied I could not hear of that. Cook’s brother-in-law was there at the time, and he also expressed a wish to bury him. I said it was my business, as executor, to bury him, and that I intended to bury him in London in his mother’s grave, and that the body would have to be at the inn for a day or two. Palmer said that would be of no consequence so long as the body was fastened up at once. Some short time afterwards I asked Palmer for the name of some respectable undertaker in Rugeley, so that I might order a coffin at once. He replied, “I have been and chosen that. I have ordered a shell and a strong oak coffin.” I expressed my surprise, and said he had no authority to do so. At my invitation, my son-in-law, Mr. Jones, and Palmer all dined with me at the inn. We dined about three, as I was going back to London by the quarter-past four train. Before I left I asked Mr. Jones to go upstairs and bring me Cook’s betting book and any papers. He went along with Palmer, and in about ten minutes he returned, saying he could find no book or paper. I expressed my astonishment, and Palmer said, “It is of no manner of use if you find it.” I said I was the best judge of that, and I understood my son won a great deal of money at Shrewsbury. Palmer replied that when a man dies his bets are done with, and that Mr. Cook had received the greater part of his money on the course at Shrewsbury. I said that the book must be found, and he replied in a much quieter tone, “Oh, it will be found, no doubt.” The body was in the shell, and I noticed that both the hands were clenched. I then returned to town. The next morning I communicated with the uncle of the deceased and with my solicitor, who gave me a letter to Mr. Gardner, of Rugeley. I returned to Rugeley by the two o’clock train, arriving there about eight. Palmer travelled by the same train. I met him first at Euston station, when he told me he had been summoned to London by telegraph. I saw him again in the refreshment room at Wolverton. We had some conversation, and I remarked that it would be as well to know something of the complaint of which Cook died, and that I should like his body opened. Palmer replied, “That can be done very well,” or “That can be easily done,” or something of that sort. I saw him again in the refreshment room at Rugby, and mentioned to him my determination to see a solicitor in Rugeley about my son’s affairs. From Rugby to Rugeley we travelled in the same carriage, but no further conversation took place. When we arrived at Rugeley he again spoke about me employing a solicitor, and offered to introduce me to one. I refused his offer, and said I would find one myself. I then immediately purposely changed the tone of my voice and manner, and said, “Mr. Palmer, if I should call in a solicitor to give me advice, I suppose you will have no objections to answer him any questions he might choose to put to you?” He replied, with a spasmodic affection of the throat, which was perfectly evident, “Oh, no, certainly not.” I also expressed my desire of taking a solicitor to Hednesford, where Cook’s horses were kept. I ought to say that, when I first mentioned the post-mortem, there was not the slightest change in Mr. Palmer’s manner; he was perfectly calm and collected. We then parted, he to go home and I to go and look for Mr. Gardner. Later in the evening Palmer came to me again, and the first thing he spoke about was the bills. He said, “It is a very unpleasant affair for me about these bills.” I remarked that I had heard a different account of Mr. Cook’s affairs, and that his affairs could only be settled in the Court of Chancery. All he replied was, “Oh, indeed,” in a lower tone. The next day, Sunday, I saw him again in the coffee room of my hotel. He advised me not to take a solicitor to Hednesford, but I told him I should use my own judgment upon that. Later in the evening, I think, I saw him again. I asked him who the Mr. Smith was who had sat up with my son, as I wished to make inquiries regarding the missing betting book. He replied he was a solicitor of that town. I asked him if he attended my son medically, and he said no. He then asked me if I knew who was to perform the examination, and I told him I did not. On the Friday, when I twice saw the body, I did not perceive any decomposition or anything which called for its being speedily put into a shell; on the contrary, the body did not quite look to me like a dead body.

W. V. Stevens

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—The last time my stepson stayed in my house was for about a month, in January and February of last year. He had a slight sore throat then, but I do not know that it was continuously sore. He did not complain of it. I never noticed any ulcers about his face. Between that time and the 5th November I saw him several times, and he did not appear to be more delicate than usual. The reason why I mentioned to him on 5th November that he was looking very well was because he had complained of being an invalid the winter before. His brother and sister were rather delicate, and his father died at the age of thirty or thirty-one.

J. T. Harland

Dr. John Thomas Harland, examined by Mr. Bodkin—I am a physician residing at Stafford. On 26th November I made a post-mortem examination of Mr. Cook. I called at the house of Mr. Bamford, and on my way there I was joined by Palmer, whom I had frequently seen and spoken to at Rugeley. He said, “I am glad you have come to make a post-mortem examination; some one might have been sent whom I did not know; I know you.” I asked him what the case was; that I heard there was a suspicion of poisoning. He replied, “Oh, no! I think not; he had an epileptic fit on Monday and Tuesday night, and you will find an old disease in the heart and in the head.” Palmer offered to lend me instruments, as I had brought none with me. He said a queer old man seemed to suspect him. He also said, “He seems to suspect that I have got the betting book, but Cook had no betting book that would be of use to any one.” After we reached Bamford’s house, Mr. Bamford and I went to Mr. Frere’s, a surgeon in Rugeley, and from there to the Talbot Arms, where the post-mortem examination was proceeded with. Palmer and several others were in the room. Mr. Devonshire operated and Mr. Newton assisted him. The body seemed to me to be stiffer than bodies generally are six days after death. The muscles were strongly contracted and thrown out, which showed there was a strong spasmodic action in the body before death. The hands were clenched; firmly closed. The abdominal viscera were the first parts of the body examined internally. They were taken out of the body, and were in a perfectly healthy state. The liver was healthy. The lungs were healthy; there was blood in them, but not more than could be accounted for by gravitation. The brain was quite healthy. There was no extravasation of blood nor serum on the brain. There was nothing in its appearance that would cause unnatural pressure. The heart was contracted, and contained no blood. This did not appear to be the result of disease, but from spasmodic action. The stomach was taken out. At the larger end there were numerous small yellowish-white spots about the size of mustard seed. These would not at all account for death, nor would they have any effect on the health of any one. There may have been numerous follicles, nothing more. The kidneys were full of blood that had gravitated since death, and had no appearance of disease. The blood was in a fluid state, which is a rare occurrence even in cases of sudden death. About the whole body generally there was no appearance of disease that would account for death. The lower part of the spinal cord was not minutely examined on this occasion. The upper part presented a perfectly natural appearance.

J. T. Harland

On the 25th of January the body was again exhumed, so that we might examine the spinal cord with more attention. Dr. Monckton and I jointly made a report on the matter. I am still of the opinion that there was nothing in the appearance that I have described to account for the death of the deceased. When the stomach and intestines were removed from the body in the first examination they were separately emptied into a jar by Mr. Devonshire and Mr. Newton. Palmer was standing at the right of Mr. Newton. When the intestines and stomach were being placed in the jar, and while Mr. Devonshire was opening the stomach, I noticed Palmer pushed Mr. Newton on to Mr. Devonshire, and he shook a portion of the contents of the stomach into the body. I thought a joke was passing among them, and I said, “Do not do that,” to the whole. Palmer was the only one close to them when Mr. Newton and Mr. Devonshire were pushed together. After this interruption the opening of the stomach proceeded. It contained about, I should think, 2 or 3 ounces of brownish liquid. It was stated that there was nothing particular found in the stomach, and Palmer remarked to Mr. Bamford, “They will not hang us yet.” The stomach was then emptied into the jar along with the stomach itself. The intestines were then examined, and nothing particular found in them. They were contracted and very small. They were placed in the jar, with their contents, as they were taken from the body. I then tied the jar over with two bladders and sealed it, and placed it on the table beside the body. At that time Palmer was moving about the room. My attention had been called away by the examination, and I missed the jar for a few minutes. I called out, “Where is the jar?” and Palmer, from the other end of the room, said, “It is here; I thought it more convenient for you to take it away.” Palmer was standing a yard or two from a door at that end of the room. I got the jar from him. I found there was a cut, hardly an inch long, through both bladders. The cut was quite clean, as if nothing had passed through. I asked who had done this, and Palmer, Mr. Devonshire, and Mr. Newton all seemed to say they had not done it. I told Palmer I should take the jar to Mr. Frere. He said, “I would rather you take it with you to Stafford, if you would take it there,” but I took it to Mr. Frere’s house, tied and sealed in the way I have told. When I noticed the slit in the bladders I immediately cut the strings and replaced the bladders, and tied them separately again, so that the slit was not at the top. When I returned to the Talbot Arms Palmer asked me what I had done with the jar. I said I had left it with Mr. Frere, and that it would go to either London or Birmingham that night for examination.

Cross-examined by Serjeant Shee—On the occasion of the first examination you say you observed follicles under the tongue; are those pustules?—Not under the tongue, on the tongue. They are not pustules; they are large mucous follicles, not containing matter.

Is it a sort of thickening, then, of the skin?—Of the mucous follicles at the base of the tongue. They appeared to be of long standing, and were very numerous.

Do they indicate that there had been much soreness there?—I have no doubt they would produce inconvenience. They must have given some slight degree of pain in eating and speaking.

Will you undertake to say they were not enlarged glands, enlarged by the irritation of disease?—I do not believe they were; I have seen them frequently.

Do you adhere to your opinion that the lungs were healthy?—Yes.

Did not Mr. Devonshire, in your presence, express a contrary opinion, and say they were unhealthy?—He said he thought there was emphysema, as well as congestion of the lungs.

Is that not a diseased state of the lungs?—Yes, it is an abnormal state. I examined the white spots on the wider part of the stomach.

How did you examine them?—By removing the mucous that was on the surface of the stomach by the finger or scalpel. I had no lens, no glass. I should have examined them with a lens if I had had one.

Was your examination of these appearances satisfactory to you without a lens?—Yes.

You said that the brain was healthy; what sort of examination did you make of the brain?—The brain was carefully taken out; the external part was first of all examined; the membranes were examined, and slices were taken off from the apex to the base of the brain. These slices were, I should think, a quarter of an inch thick.

Is that as thick as it should be to make a full examination?—I think that would show any disease if there was any. The spinal cord was examined down to the first vertebra, and we found no appearance of disease.

Supposing you had discovered a softness of the spinal cord on that occasion, after a full examination, might not that have been sufficient to account for the death of Mr. Cook?—No, certainly not; softening would not produce tetanus at all; it might produce paralysis.

J. T. Harland

Do not you think in the case of a man dying by convulsions, in order to ascertain with any degree of certainty what the cause of his death might be, it was necessary shortly after his death to make a careful examination of the spinal cord?—No, I do not. It was afterwards thought desirable. It was first suggested on 26th December.

It was in January the second examination took place; supposing there had been a softening, do not you think, in order to discover it, it was necessary to examine the spinal cord at an earlier period after death than two months?—If there had been a softening it would have been detected at the second examination; the body remaining unexamined for a long time would not produce hardening of the spine.

That is your opinion; might not any softening at that late period be the result of decomposition?—The spine was very little soft indeed. There were some appearances of decomposition upon it. I examined him to see if there was any disease on him of the venereal kind. I observed there was a loss of substance from past disease. It was cicatrised over, and on the cicatrix there was a small abrasion.

Then it must have been in a sore state?—The excoriation might be a little sore. It was very small. It was a mere excoriation; merely a little of the excoriation rubbed off.

Re-examined—There were no chancres, nothing beyond what I would term an excoriation, except the cicatrix from the old disease. There was no symptom of ulcerated throat, nor any appearance of anything syphilitic there. The follicles in the tongue are often produced by a disordered stomach, and are of no serious consequence to health. The congestion of the lungs, which Mr. Devonshire spoke about, was due, in my opinion, wholly to the gravitation of blood after death. There was nothing whatever in the brain to indicate the presence of any disease. Even if there had been, I have never heard or read of any diseased state of the brain occasioning death by tetanus. There is no disease of the spinal cord with which I am acquainted which produces tetanus and that form of death. Sometimes with inflammation of the membranes of the spinal cord there is tetanus; but there were no appearances of inflammation whatever.

C. J. Devonshire

Charles John Devonshire, examined by Mr. Huddleston—I am an undergraduate of London University. I performed the post-mortem on 25th November at the Talbot Hotel. The body was pale. The fingers were clenched firmly; the thumb of the left hand was thrown into the palm, and the fingers were clenched over. The mouth was a little contracted. The body was stiff, much beyond the usual stiffness of death. I took out the stomach and opened it with a pair of scissors. As I was opening the stomach there was a pressure or push from behind. I did not pay any attention to it, and I do not think any of the contents of the stomach escaped. I punctured the anterior surface of the stomach, and a spoonful of the contents fell out on the chair. I tied up where it was punctured, and it was put into a jar and sealed by Dr. Harland. On the same day I got the jar at Mr. Frere’s, and gave it, on the 28th, to Mr. Boycott, Messrs. Lander & Gardner’s clerk. The body was opened again on the 29th to get the liver and kidneys and spleen. They were taken from the body with some blood, placed in a stone jar, which I sealed and handed to Mr. Boycott on the 30th. In consequence of something Mr. Palmer had said, I examined the body to find if there were any indications of syphilis, but I found none. I also took out the throat, and found there were natural papillæ there; they were larger than usual at the base of the tongue.

John Myatt

John Myatt—I am postboy at the Talbot Arms at Rugeley. On 28th of November last I was engaged to drive Mr. Stevens to Stafford station. Before I started Mr. Palmer asked me if I was going to drive them to Stafford. I told him I was. He asked if I was going to take the jars. I said I believed I was. He said there was a £10 note for me if I would upset them. I told him I should not. I saw him next morning, and he asked me who went with the fly. I said Mr. Stevens, and I believed one of Mr. Gardner’s clerks.

Cross-examined—How did you know what he meant by “going to drive them to Stafford”?—I knew I was going to take some one to Stafford.

Did he use the name “Stevens” before he used these words to you?—He mentioned Mr. Stevens afterwards.

You understood the word “them” to mean Mr. Stevens and his party?—Yes.

Were the words used not to this effect, “I should not mind giving £10 to break Mr. Stevens’ neck”?—I do not remember that.

The “£10 to upset him”?—These were the words to the best of my recollection.

When he said “to upset him” did he say anything about him at the time?—He did say something about it, that it was a humbugging concern, or something to that effect. I do not recollect him saying he was a suspicious, troublesome fellow.

S. Cheshire

Samuel Cheshire—I was for upwards of eight years postmaster at Rugeley. I am now from Newgate suffering punishment for having opened a letter as postmaster. I know the prisoner very well, he and I having been schoolfellows together. I was with him at Shrewsbury Races the day “Polestar” won. I saw Mr. Cook at the Talbot Arms on the Saturday, 17th November. He was in bed at the time. On the Tuesday following Palmer asked me to meet him at his house and bring a receipt stamp with me. I did so. He said he wanted me to write out a cheque, which, he said, was for money Mr. Cook owed him. He produced a copy from which I was to write, and I copied it. He gave me as a reason why he wanted me to write it that Mr. Cook was too ill, and he said Wetherby would know his writing. After I had written it I left it with him, and he said he was going to take it over for Mr. Cook to sign.

The Attorney-General—We know that it went out of his possession afterwards, and therefore perhaps we ought to follow it.

[Evidence was then given to show that this cheque for £350 was sent to Mr. Wetherby, the secretary to the Jockey Club, that it was returned to Palmer, that notice to produce it was given by the prosecution, and that it was not produced.]

S. Cheshire

Samuel Cheshire, recalled—After Mr. Cook’s death, on the Thursday or Friday, Palmer sent for me again. I went to his house and saw him there. He had a sheet of quarto paper in his hand, which he asked me to sign.

Lord Campbell—Was there anything written upon this quarto sheet of paper?—There was.

Examination resumed—I asked him what it was, and he said, “You know that Cook and I have had some dealings together, and this is a document which he gave me some days ago, and I want you to witness it.” I asked him what it was about, and he replied, “There is some business that I have joined him in, and which was all for Mr. Cook’s benefit, and this is a document stating so,” or something of that kind. The paper was a post quarto paper of a yellow description. I observed the writing on it, and thought it was Mr. Palmer’s. I told him I could not sign it, as I might perhaps be called upon to give evidence in the matter at some future day. I said I had not seen Cook sign it, and that the post office authorities would not like me to be called on to give evidence as to a document which took place while I was absent. Palmer replied that it did not matter my signing it, and he dared say they would not object to Mr. Cook’s signature. I gave the paper back to him and left.

(Notice to produce this paper was given, but it was not produced.)

S. Cheshire

Palmer was in the habit of calling for letters addressed to his mother, and which I gave to him. I cannot remember whether during October and November, 1855, I gave him letters addressed to his mother or addressed to Mr. Cook. I remember seeing Palmer while the inquest was going on. He came to me on the Sunday evening previous to 5th December, and asked me to let him know if I had seen or heard anything fresh. I understood that was a temptation for me to open a letter, and I told him I could not do that. He said he did not want me to do anything to injure myself. The letter which I read, and for which I am suffering, was a letter from Dr. Taylor to Mr. Gardner, the solicitor. I did not give nor send that letter to Palmer. I merely told him in few words of its contents. I only read part of the letter, and told Palmer the contents as much as I remembered. That was on the morning of the 5th of December. I told Palmer that I found in Dr. Taylor’s letter that there were no traces of strychnia found. I cannot recollect what else I told him. He said he knew they would not, for he was perfectly innocent.

J. H. Hatton

Captain John Haines Hatton—I am chief constable of the police of Staffordshire.

Did you obtain this letter, which I have just proved to be in Palmer’s handwriting, and envelope from Mr. Ward, the coroner?—I did; I endorsed it.

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

S. Cheshire

Samuel Cheshire, recalled, cross-examined—I knew Cook very well, but I could not speak to his handwriting. I am sure that when Palmer came to me he used the words, “seen or heard anything.” He did not simply ask if I had “heard anything.” On the Saturday before Cook’s death I dined with Palmer and Mr. Smith. Cook was expected to dine also, but he was too ill. Palmer said he must call in Bamford.

G. Herring

George Herring—I knew Mr. Cook. I was at Shrewsbury Races last November, staying at the Raven, and saw Cook each day. I saw him with money on the Wednesday. He was counting up a lot of Bank of England and other notes. I could not say how many there were, but there were a considerable number. He showed me his betting book, containing entries of bets made at the races. On Monday, 19th November, I received a letter from Palmer asking me to call upon him at 7 Beaufort Buildings at half-past two that day. I called, and he said he wished to see me about settling Cook’s account, as the physician had advised Cook not to go out that day, it being damp. Palmer had a paper in his hand, and read out from it a number of items which he asked me to take down. I did so, and I have here the list I made. He said—“Receive of Ingham, £350; Barr, £300; Green, £140; Morris, £200; Nelson, £30; pay yourself £6 and Shelley £30.” I said that made it £984, and he said—“That is what Cook makes it; if I give you £16 it will make £1000; out of that pay yourself for my bill.” I said, “I know no difference between the two bills”; he said, “Pay Padwick £550 and Pratt £450, making £1000.” He asked me to send cheque for the last two at once. I refused to do so, as I had not received the money. He wished me particularly to pay Pratt the £450, as he said it was for a bill or joint-bill of sale on the mare. I had an account of £45 against Palmer, while he had one of £40 against me. He settled this £5, along with the £16 to make up the £1000 previously spoken to, by a Bank of England £50 note. I do not know the number of the note. Before he left he pressed me to send the cheques to Pratt and Padwick immediately before the closing of the bank. He said, “When you have settled this account write down word to either me or Cook.” I replied, “I shall certainly write to Mr. Cook,” because I thought I was settling Mr. Cook’s account. He said, “It does not matter which.” I asked him if I addressed the letter, “Mr. Cook, Palmer, Rugeley, would that be correct,” and he said “yes.” I received all the money at Tattersall’s on Cook’s account, except £110 of Mr. Morris, who only paid £90 instead of £200. I sent a cheque for £450 to Pratt from Tattersall’s. I wrote a letter to Cook from Tattersall’s. The next day I received a telegraphic message, which I gave to Captain Hatton on the coroner’s inquest. In consequence of this message I wrote a letter the same day to Cook.

(Evidence was given to show that Herring held three bills of exchange, each for £200, on which Cook and Palmer were jointly responsible to him. He received £200 from Cook on one bill; another £200 bill he deducted, as instructed by Palmer from the £1000. The third bill he paid himself for by not paying Padwick as Palmer instructed him. Besides these bills Herring held a fourth for £500 drawn by Palmer on his mother, and endorsed by him and Cook. It was proved that this acceptance was not in Mrs. Palmer’s handwriting.)

The Court then adjourned.

Fourth Day, Saturday, 17th May, 1856.

The Court met at ten o’clock.

George Bate

George Bate, examined by Mr. James—I am a farmer, and was in the employment of the prisoner during September, October, and November of last year. I was engaged to look after his horses, and received no stated salary, sometimes two sovereigns and sometimes one sovereign a week. I remember in the month of September, 1856, being in the company of Mr. Cook and Mr. Palmer. Something was said by one of them to me about an insurance being proposed on my life.

Mr. Serjeant Shee objected to this evidence, and his objection was sustained.

T. B. Curling

Mr. Thomas Blizzard Curling, examined by the Attorney-General—I am a Fellow of the College of Surgeons, and surgeon to the London Hospital. I have published a work on the subject of tetanus. Tetanus signifies spasmodic affection of the voluntary muscles of the body. There are two sorts of tetanus, idiopathic and traumatic. Idiopathic tetanus is tetanus originating, as it were, as a primary disease, without any wound. Traumatic is from a wound. During twenty-two years I have been surgeon to the London Hospital. I have never seen a case of idiopathic tetanus. I have seen over fifty cases of traumatic tetanus. Traumatic tetanus first manifests itself by a stiffness about the jaws and the back of the neck; rigidity of the muscles of the abdomen usually sets in; a dragging pain at the pit of the stomach is almost a constant attendant of spasm of the diaphragm, and in many cases the muscles of the back are sensibly affected. Then the spasms, though continuous, are liable to aggravation in paroxysms. As the disease goes on these paroxysms become more frequent and more severe. When they occur, the body is drawn backwards; in some instances, though less frequently, it is bent forwards; then, in an acute case, a difficulty in swallowing is a very common thing; a difficulty in breathing also during the paroxysm, a choking sensation. The disease may end, supposing it be fatal, in two ways; the patient may die somewhat suddenly of suffocation, owing to closure of the opening of the windpipe, or the patient may be worn out by the severe and painful spasms, and the muscles may relax and the patient gradually sink and die. Traumatic tetanus is generally fatal, and the locking of the jaw is an almost invariable symptom. A symptom very characteristic of the disease is a contracted condition of the eyelids, a raising of the angles of the mouth, and a contraction of the brow. The lower extremities are sometimes affected, and sometimes the upper; the muscles affected are chiefly those of the trunk. I have never heard of traumatic tetanus being produced from sore throat or from chancre. A case of traumatic tetanus which ends fatally takes from one day to four days, or longer, before death ensues. I never heard of a case in which a man would be attacked one day and then have twenty-four hours’ respite, and be again attacked the next. The symptoms of the death of Mr. Cook, given by Mr. Jones, the surgeon, were not consistent with any form of traumatic tetanus I ever heard of. There was the sudden onset of the fatal symptoms; in all cases that have fallen under my notice the disease has been preceded by the milder symptoms of tetanus. The symptoms given by the woman Mills as to the Monday night were not those of tetanus. The sudden onset and rapid subsidence are not consistent with what I call the true form of tetanus. The poison, nux vomica, produces tetanic convulsions.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—Any irritation of the nerves proceeding to the spinal cord might produce tetanus. I agree with Dr. Watson in his “Lectures on the Principles and Practice of Physic,” that all the symptoms of tetanic convulsions may arise from such slight causes as the sticking of a fish bone, the mere stroke of a whip lash under the eye, from the cutting of a corn, from the bite on the finger by a tame sparrow, from the extraction of a tooth, from the operation of cupping, and simple things of that character. Idiopathic tetanus would not be so likely to bring the patient to the hospital as a sudden wound leading to traumatic tetanus. A syphilitic sore would not be likely to lead to tetanus.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—A medical practitioner who saw a case of convulsions would be able at once to know the difference between symptoms of general convulsions and of tetanus. One of the characteristic features of tetanus is that the consciousness is not affected.

Robert Todd

Dr. Robert Todd, examined by the Attorney-General—I have been in practice as a doctor for twenty-five years, and have been a physician to King’s College Hospital for many years. I have lectured on the disease called tetanus, and have published the lectures. I have seen two cases of what seemed to be idiopathic tetanus. It is a very rare thing. The term tetanus ought not to be applied to cases of poisoning, for the symptoms are so essentially distinct from the disease. I have had under my own observation cases of traumatic tetanus. When once the disease has begun there are remissions, but not complete; rather a diminution of the severity of the symptoms. There are two classes—an acute class and a chronic class. The acute cases will terminate in the course of three or four days, and the chronic cases will go on from nineteen to twenty-two or twenty-three days, perhaps longer. Sometimes epilepsy will produce convulsions, and sometimes the convulsions from epilepsy assume somewhat of a tetanic character, but they are essentially distinct from tetanus. When the epileptic convulsions assume somewhat of the tetanic form, it is quickly over, not continuous. In epilepsy there is an abolition of consciousness for the time. I have heard the symptoms described which accompanied this gentleman’s seizure and death, and also the appearances after death and the post-mortem examination. I am of opinion there was neither apoplexy nor epilepsy. There are poisons which will produce tetanic convulsions. The chief of these poisons is nux vomica. I have seen animal life destroyed by strychnia, but never human life. The effects of a large dose, such as a grain of strychnia given in a liquid form to a cat or dog, would be apparent in the course of ten minutes. The symptoms would be spasmodic action of the muscles, chiefly of the trunk, the spine, the spinal muscles, producing a very marked opisthotonos, as it is called, where the spine is thrown back, the head thrown back, and the trunk bowed in a very marked manner. The extremities are generally stiffened, jerked out with violent jerks. The muscles are rendered stiff and rigid from the spasms. The stiffness remains, and does not perfectly relax. Fresh paroxysms come in always attended with the peculiar curving back of the head and neck and spine. The extremities of the animals are powerfully stiffened out, distended, every now and then powerfully bent, and jerked out again. Death ensues within half an hour, unless it is a small dose. There is a marked difference between cases where death ensues after taking strychnia and a case of tetanus such as I was describing just now from idiopathic or traumatic causes. The continuity of the symptoms in strychnia poisoning is very characteristic: as long as the poisonous influence lasts, the symptoms last, but the poisonous symptoms will subside after a time. The shortness of the duration of the symptoms is decidedly in favour of strychnine poisoning. There are no other poisons that I know of that produce convulsions of a tetanic character. The symptoms described which attended this gentleman’s death are not referable to idiopathic or traumatic tetanus. I have never seen a person die from the administration of strychnia, but I have seen a person suffer from the consequences of an overdose. There was the opisthotonos and there was the consciousness perfectly retained. There was also dilation of the pupils, a peculiar convulsion of the muscles of the trunk, and the limbs were stiffened out. Difficulty of breathing is common to both tetanus and to tetanic convulsions from strychnia. In the case of Mr. Cook, I think it is an important distinction that he seems to have been able to swallow sufficiently easy, and there was no rigidity of the muscles of the jaw which is characteristic of tetanus, of disease, or of wound. I think the symptoms in his case, judging from my own experience, were those of tetanus from strychnia.

Cross-examined by Mr. Grove—The proximate effect of tetanus, whether caused by idiopathic or traumatic tetanus, or strychnia, is probably the same on the nerves leading from the spine. The particular affection of the nerves is unknown. In the disorder of convulsions there are cases of very slight affection, others more serious, and so on. I adhere to the opinion given by me in my lectures on “Diseases of the Brain and Nervous System,” that the results of the administration of strychnine exactly imitate the convulsions of tetanus. It does not produce the exact phenomena of the disease in a clinical sense. I have no doubt the peculiar irritation of the nerves in tetanus is identical with the peculiar irritation of the nerves in strychnine poisoning. In traumatic tetanus I do not recollect any instance of the limbs being affected before the jaw. An examination of the spinal cord in tetanic affections shortly after death is of importance. If it were deferred as late as two months, there would be, to a certain extent, a fallacy. There are morbid appearances produced by wounds after death which sometimes simulate diseased conditions before death.

Supposing the spine to be affected by decomposition, would not what may be called the diseased softening of the spine previous to death be confused or obliterated?—You would not be able to speak with certainty as to simple softening if the examination had been long after death. There is nothing in the post-mortem examination on which any one could positively say that the patient died from the ordinary disease of tetanus. I think granules on the spinal cord, such as I have heard of here, are not likely to cause tetanus. In the cases of the animals to whom strychnia was administered they went off into a second spasm immediately they were touched. They retained that tendency as long as the influence of the poison lasted. I examined the animals that were killed by strychnia anatomically. The right side of the heart was not generally full; it was empty, and the heart contracted. Death where strychnine was administered is partly due to the difficulty of action of the respiratory muscles, but chiefly to a general nervous exhaustion which the violence of the paroxysm produces.

Would not the difficulty of action of the respiratory muscles producing death tend to leave the heart full?—I do not think it was asphyxia.

Robert Todd

Then I think I may take you as differing from the great mass of authorities on strychnia poisoning?—I don’t know; I think there are differences of opinion on that subject. Persons sometimes have convulsions after poison by morphia. The time in which convulsive symptoms come on after morphia would depend on the dose entirely. I cannot say whether it would be later than strychnia. It is not a question I have devoted attention to.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—In death resulting from tetanus I should not expect to find anything peculiar about the heart. I heard the evidence of the gentlemen who examined the spinal cord after Mr. Cook’s death. From their description it appeared to me that those parts were in such a condition that any indication of disease might have been discovered.

Sir B. Brodie

Sir Benjamin Brodie, examined by Mr. James—I was surgeon at St. James’s Hospital for a great number of years, and have had a considerable practice. I have had many cases of death from tetanus. Death from idiopathic tetanus is very rare in this country. I heard the description of the symptoms attending the death of Mr. Cook. As far as the spasmodic contraction of the muscles is concerned, the symptoms resemble those of traumatic tetanus; as to the course the symptoms took, that was entirely different. I heard about the attack on the Monday night and its ceasing, and the patient being comfortable and composed during the Tuesday, and then the attack again about ten minutes before twelve on the Tuesday night. The symptoms of traumatic tetanus always begin, so far as I have seen, very gradually; the stiffness of the lower jaw being, I believe, invariably the symptom first complained of; then the contraction of the muscles of the back is always a later symptom; the muscles of the extremities are affected in a much less degree than those of the neck and trunk, except in some cases where the injury has been in a limb, and an early symptom has been a spasmodic contraction of the muscles of that limb. I do not recollect a case in which in ordinary tetanus there was that contraction of the muscles of the hand which I understand was stated to have existed in this instance. Ordinary tetanus rarely runs its course in less than two or three days, and often is protracted to a much longer period; I know one case only in which the disease was said to have terminated in twelve hours.

Lord Campbell—Probably in that case the early symptoms had been overlooked?—I never knew these symptoms of ordinary tetanus to last for a few minutes, then subside, then come on again after twenty-four hours.

Sir B. Brodie

Examination continued—I do not believe that death here arose from what we ordinarily call tetanus, either idiopathic or traumatic. I never knew a death from tetanus to result from a sore throat, or a chancre, or any other form of syphilitic disease. The symptoms of the death of Mr. Cook are not consistent with a fit of apoplexy. I never saw a case in which the symptoms that I heard described arose from any disease.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—I remember one case of idiopathic tetanus in our hospital, but I doubted its deserving the name of tetanus.

Considering how rare tetanus is, would you think that the description of a chambermaid and of a provincial medical man, who had only seen one case of tetanus, could be relied upon by you as to what the disease observed was?—I must say I thought the description very clearly given. I have never seen the syphilitic poison produce convulsions except as a consequence of disease in the bones of the head.

Henry Daniel

Mr. Henry Daniel, examined by the Attorney-General—I was for upwards of twenty-eight years surgeon to the Bristol Hospital. I have seen fully thirty cases of tetanus, of which two were idiopathic. One of these two ended fatally. Idiopathic tetanus is of very rare occurrence. The symptoms are not so severe as those in traumatic tetanus. The symptoms which accompanied the attack of Mr. Cook before his death were quite distinguishable from those cases of tetanus which have come within my experience. In pointing out the differences I would repeat very probably the words of Sir Benjamin Brodie. Tetanus, so far as my experience goes, begins with uneasiness in the lower jaw, followed by spasms of the muscles of the trunk, and most frequently extending to the muscles of the limbs. Lockjaw is almost invariably a symptom of traumatic in particular. It is one of the earliest symptoms. I have seen the clenching of the hands, but I do not think it is an ordinary symptom of common tetanus. I cannot recollect a case the duration of which has been less than from thirty to forty hours. I have never known a syphilitic sore producing tetanus. The symptoms I have heard described in Mr. Cook’s case are not referable to either apoplexy or epilepsy. In both these there is a loss of consciousness, but in cases of tetanus that I have seen consciousness has been retained throughout all the period. In my experience of tetanus the symptoms have been invariably continuous without any interruption. In my judgment the symptoms of Mr. Cook could not be referred to idiopathic or traumatic tetanus.

Henry Daniel

Cross-examined by Mr. Grove—I do not know that cases are mentioned in books where there is a long interval of some hours between the symptoms. I have not read Dr. Todd’s book, nor Mr. Curling’s book, nor Dr. Copland’s book on the subject. I have been out of practice some seventeen or eighteen months, and have not looked into the reported cases of tetanus of late. In my opinion the symptoms of tetanic convulsions do not vary much in different cases. There may be an affection of a muscle in this man that there is not in the other, in a leg or an arm. In tetanic affections death is caused by exhaustion and suffocation.

Samuel Solly

Mr. Samuel Solly, examined by Mr. Welsby—I have been connected with St. Thomas’s Hospital as lecturer and surgeon for twenty-eight years. I have either seen or had under my care twenty cases of tetanus, all of which were traumatic, except one, in which I was doubtful whether it was traumatic or idiopathic. In the latter case the symptoms were slower in their progress and generally rather milder. The shortest period I can remember before the disease arrived at a point is thirty hours. The difference between Mr. Cook’s attacks and the cases I have seen is that, in my experience, there has been a marked expression of the countenance—that is the first symptom; it is a sort of grin, and the symptoms have always been continuous. The symptoms in Mr. Cook’s case are not referable to either epilepsy or apoplexy, or any disease that I ever witnessed.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—A marked expression of the countenance, a sort of grin, frequently occurs in all violent convulsions, which assume, without being tetanus, a tetanic form and appearance. They are not a numerous class. It is difficult to distinguish between them and idiopathic tetanus in the onset, but not in the progress. I heard the account given by Mr. Jones of the last few moments before Mr. Cook died.

That he uttered a piercing shriek, fell back, and died, did he not?—Yes.

The Attorney-General—I beg your pardon; there was an interval.

Mr. Serjeant Shee—No, no; five or six minutes.

Lord Campbell—He died very quietly.

Cross-examination resumed—I heard the description of the shriek with the convulsion; but it was the shriek that called the medical man into the room. That was at the height of the attack. In some respects that last shriek and the paroxysm that occurred immediately afterwards bear a resemblance to epilepsy. Death from tetanus accompanied with convulsions seldom leaves any trace behind; but death from epilepsy leaves behind it some few effusions of blood on the brain or congestion of the vessels.

Samuel Solly

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—Convulsions that take place in epilepsy are not at all of tetanic character. I say that Mr. Cook did not die from epilepsy, because there were none of the symptoms there. When a patient dies with epilepsy he dies perfectly unconscious. Ulceration of the brain from injury, a sudden injury to the spinal cord, irritation of the teeth in infants, all produce convulsions. But those convulsions in their progress are not similar to the convulsions of tetanus. There is no progressive movement and no appearance about the face or jaw of having tetanus.

R. Corbett

Dr. Robert Corbett, examined by Mr. James—I am a physician in Glasgow. I remember a patient of the name of Agnes Sennet who died in the Glasgow Royal Infirmary on 29th September, 1845, after taking some strychnia pills intended for another patient. I saw her while she was under the influence of the poison. The symptoms I noticed were a retraction of the mouth, face much suffused and red, the pupils dilated, the head bent back, the spine curved, and the muscles rigid and hard like a board. She died about an hour and a quarter after taking the pills. There would be a quarter of a grain in each of the three pills she took.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—The retraction of the angles of the mouth was continuous, but it was worse at times. I did not observe it after death. The hands were not clenched, but semi-bent after death. That semi-bending of the hand is a very common thing in cases of death by violent convulsions. Twenty minutes after taking the medicine she was attacked by the symptoms.

Dr. Watson

Dr. Watson, examined by the Attorney-General—I am one of the physicians in the Glasgow Royal Infirmary, and attended the case of Agnes Sennet spoken to by the last witness. I saw her about a quarter of an hour after the symptoms first began. She was in violent convulsions; her arms were stretched out and rigid; her feet and legs were also rigid. Just at that moment she did not breathe. That paroxysm subsided almost immediately, and fresh ones came on after a very short interval. They occurred at intervals until they destroyed her. She was about half an hour in dying. She seemed perfectly conscious during the time. At the post-mortem examination the spinal cord was quite healthy. The heart was contracted.

Mary Kelly

Mary Kelly, examined by Mr. Bodkin—I was a patient in the Glasgow Royal Infirmary, and saw Agnes Sennet take the pills, which were intended for another patient. I saw her take two pills only. After taking the pills she went and sat down by the fire, and in about three-quarters of an hour she was taken ill. She fell back on the floor, and a nurse and I lifted her into bed. The nurse cut her clothes off, and she never moved after she was put upon the bed; she was just like a poker. She never spoke after she fell.

C. Hickson

Caroline Hickson, examined by Mr. James—In October, 1848, I was nurse and lady’s maid in the family of Mrs. Serjeantson Smith, at Romsey, in Hampshire. On the 30th of that month Mrs. Smith was unwell, and some medicine was sent to her in the afternoon, about six o’clock, by a Mr. Jones, a druggist in Romsey. Shortly after seven o’clock next morning I saw her take about half a wineglass of the medicine. About five or ten minutes afterwards I was summoned to her bedroom, and on entering I saw her leaning upon a chair, and I thought she had fainted. She appeared to suffer from what I thought spasms. I went out and sent for Mr. Taylor, surgeon, and on returning to the bedroom I found some of the other servants assisting to support Mrs. Smith. She was then lying on the floor and screaming very much, very loudly, but did not open her teeth. She asked me to have her legs pulled straight, and I found them drawn up very much. She still screamed as if in great agony, and requested some water to be thrown over her, which I did. Her feet were turned inwards. I put a hot-water bottle to them, but this had no effect. Shortly before she died she said she felt easier, and her last words were, “Turn me over.” I did so. A few minutes after this she died. She was conscious, and knew me during the whole time. From the time she took the medicine until she died would be about an hour and a quarter.

Cross-examined by Mr. Grove—From the time I first saw her in the spasms she could not sit up at all. It was a continuous, recurring fit, and lasted about an hour. She only seemed easy for a very short time before her death. Her teeth were clenched during the whole time.

F. Taylor

Mr. Francis Taylor, examined by Mr. Welsby—I am a surgeon at Romsey. I was summoned one morning to the house of Mrs. Serjeantson Smith. I arrived between eight and nine o’clock, shortly after she died. I saw the body then. The hands were clenched; the feet were contracted, turned inwards; and the soles of the feet were hollowed up. This appeared to have been from recent spasmodic action. The limbs were remarkably stiff. The body was still warm. The eyelids were totally adherent, almost to the eyeballs. I made a post-mortem examination three days after death. The contraction of the feet continued, but it was gone off somewhat from the rest of the body. No trace of disease was found. The heart was contracted and perfectly empty, and the blood was fluid. I analysed the medicine Mrs. Smith had taken. It originally contained nine grains of strychnia, and Mrs. Smith had taken one-third. As the truth was so apparent, only a very general examination of the stomach and bowels was made, but still sufficient to find traces of strychnia.

Jane Witham

Jane Witham, examined by Mr. James—In March last I was in attendance on a lady who died. I remember her taking some medicine, after which she became ill. She first complained of her back, and when I went to her I observed her head was drawn back, and I could not get at her back. She was in bed. I noticed she had twistings of the ankles, and her eyes were drawn aside and staring. She first complained of illness on the 25th of February, and she died on 1st March. She had several attacks, between each of which she got better. She generally complained of a pricking in her legs and twitching of the muscles in the hands, and she compared them to a galvanic shock. During the attacks she requested her husband to rub her legs and arms. The first attack was on the Monday, and she died on the Saturday about ten minutes to eleven at night.

(This case was that of Dr. Dove’s wife.)

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—It was on the commencement of the spasms that she requested her legs to be rubbed. On the Saturday night she could not bear them to be touched. On that night the spasms were much stronger than on the other days. On the Saturday she did not speak but once or twice. During the interval of the spasms on the Saturday touching her brought the spasms on. She could swallow on each of the days except the Saturday, when her mouth was quite closed. After death her body was stiff.

G. Morley

Mr. George Morley, examined by Mr. Welsby—I was the medical attendant on the lady referred to by the last witness. I had been attending her for about two months before her death for a functional derangement. I saw her on the Monday before her death lying in her bed. I observed several convulsive twitchings of her arms. I saw her on the Saturday about the middle of the day. She was much better, and in a composed state. She complained of an attack she had had in the night, and spoke of pains and spasms, affections of the back and neck. I and another medical gentleman made a post-mortem examination on the Monday. We found no disease which would account for death. There were no abrasions, nor any wound or sore. The hands were semi-bent, the fingers curved, and the feet were strongly arched. We applied several colour tests to the contents of the stomach for the purpose of detecting the presence of poison. On each occasion we produced the appearance characteristic of strychnia. After the separation of the strychnine by chemical analysis we inoculated two mice, two rabbits, and one guinea pig with the stuff taken from the stomach. We observed in each of the animals more or less the effects usually produced by the poison strychnia—general uneasiness, difficult breathing, convulsions of the tetanic kind, muscular rigidity, bending backwards, especially of the head and neck, a violent stretching of the legs. In the case of the animals where death resulted the muscular rigidity continued without any intermission. There was an interval of relaxation, but immediately after death the muscles became very rigid, more so than at rigor-mortis. We afterwards made a similar series of experiments on some animals with strychnia itself, both in solid and liquid forms. The symptoms and the results generally were exactly the same as those I have described in the case of the other animals.

Cross-examined by Mr. Grove—I did not see the patient during any severe attack. I observed that when the animals were touched it brought on the symptoms. That is a very marked result. Directly they are touched they give a sudden start, and pass into a severe spasm. At the post-mortem examination the lungs were very much congested. The muscles generally were dark and stiff. There was a decided quantity of bloody serous effusion over the brain. There was a notable quantity, but not a large quantity, of serum slightly tinged with blood in the membranes of the spinal cord. The large spinal veins were very much congested, as were the membranes of the spinal marrow. We opened the head first, and that led to a great deal of blood flowing from the head. That would make it uncertain whether the heart was full or empty. The right sides of the hearts of animals that have been poisoned by strychnia are generally full. From one to two hours is the longest time in animals at which I have perceived the first effect of strychnia come on after it has been taken. I made experiments in conjunction with Mr. Nunneley, and my impression is that the interval has been as long as one hour. I discovered strychnia with all the tests I applied with more or less distinctness. I have detected strychnia in the stomach two months after death, and after decomposition had proceeded to a considerable extent.

G. Morley

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—I have given to the animals which I have killed from half a grain to two grains. The animals experimented on were cats, rabbits, and dogs. The strychnia, I think, acts on the nerves, but a part may be taken into the blood also and act through the blood. The poison is absorbed. We searched the stomach to find the presence of the strychnia. The strychnia which we found in the stomach would be that which was there in excess beyond that which had been absorbed in the system. The strychnia that has been absorbed into the system is sufficient to destroy life. The excess that remains in the stomach is inactive. I should expect to fail sometimes to find strychnia in the stomach if the minimum quantity capable of operating to the destruction of life had been administered. If death resulted from a series of minute doses of this poison, administered for a space of several days, it is my opinion that the appearances would be likely to be different after death from what they would, supposing death was produced rapidly by one dose.

Re-cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—Is it your theory that in the act of poisoning the poison is absorbed and ceases to exist as poison, as strychnia?—I am inclined to think so. I have thought much upon that question. I am not decided in my own mind.

What chemical reason can you give for your opinion?—My opinion rests on the general fact that organic substances acting on the human body, such as food or medicine, are frequently changed in composition. It is possible that strychnia may have been discovered in the blood and liver after effecting the operation of poisoning, but I do not know that it has.

Do you know whether strychnia can be decomposed by any sort of putrefying or fermentative process?—I have no fact to show that it can, and I doubt if it is.

E. D. Moore

Mr. Edward Duke Moore, examined by Mr. Huddleston—I was formerly in practice as a surgeon. About fifteen years ago I was attending a gentleman for paralysis, and had been giving him some very small doses of strychnia. Subsequently I made him up a stronger dose containing a quarter of a grain. In about three-quarters of an hour I was summoned to come back and see him. He was stiffened in every limb. His head was drawn back, and he was screaming, frequently requesting that we should turn him, move him, and rub him. His spine was arched. We tried to give him a mixture of ammonia with a spoon. He snapped at the spoon with a sort of convulsive grasp to take it. He was suffering about three hours altogether. He survived the attack, and was perfectly conscious the whole time.

Cross-examined by Serjeant Shee—He recovered from the spasms in about three hours, but the rigidity of the muscles remained for the rest of the day and part of the next day. He was completely recovered the next day after the attack, and the patient himself said he thought his paralysis was better.

The Court then adjourned.

Fifth Day, Monday, 19th May, 1856.

Alfred Taylor

Dr. Alfred Taylor, examined by the Attorney-General—I am a Fellow of the College of Physicians, a lecturer on medical jurisprudence at Guy’s Hospital, and the author of a well-known treatise on poisons and on medical jurisprudence. Among other poisons, I have made strychnia the subject of my attention. It is the produce of the nux vomica. There is also in the nux vomica a poison of an analogous nature called bruchsia, which differs from it only in point of strength. The difference of the two poisons is relatively estimated from one-sixth to one-twelfth, bruchsia being one-sixth to one-twelfth the strength of strychnia. I have never witnessed an instance of the action of strychnia on the human subject. I have tried a variety of experiments, I think about ten or twelve, on animal life with strychnia. Rabbits have always been used for these experiments. The symptoms produced by the poison have been on the whole very uniform. I have given a quantity varying from one-half to two or three grains. I have found half a grain sufficient to destroy the life of a rabbit. I have given it in both solid and liquid form. When given in a fluid state it produced its operation in two or three minutes; when given in a solid state, in the form of pill or bolus, from about six to eleven minutes, I think. The time is influenced by the strength of the dose, and also by the strength of the animal. The poison is first absorbed into the blood; it is then circulated through the body, and the poison especially acts on the spinal cord. That is the part of the body from which the nerves affecting the voluntary muscles proceed. The entire circulation through the whole system is considered to take place about once in four minutes.

Lord Campbell—Are you speaking of the human circulation?—Yes; the circulation in the rabbit is quicker.

Examination resumed—How is it the absorption would be quicker in a rabbit?—I think it is from the effects produced; that will also depend on the state of the stomach, as to whether there be much food in the stomach and whether the poison comes in immediate contact with the inner surface of the stomach. The poison must first, I believe, be absorbed before it acts on the nervous system.

Alfred Taylor

Will you describe the series of symptoms from the commencement to the close?—The animal for about five or six minutes does not appear to suffer; it moves about freely and actively. It then, when the poison begins to act, suddenly falls on its side. There is a trembling of the whole muscles of the body, a sort of quivering motion arising from the poison producing those violent and involuntary contractions. There is then a sudden paroxysm of it; the fore legs and the hind legs are stretched out, the head and the tail are drawn back so as to give it the form of a bow. The jaws are spasmodically closed, the eyes are prominent, protruding. After a short time there is a slight remission of the symptoms, and the animal appears to lie quiet, but the slightest noise or touch reproduces convulsive paroxysms. There is sometimes a scream or sort of shriek; the heart beats very violently during the fit, and after a succession of these fits the animal dies quietly.

There is not invariably, immediately prior to death, a remission of the symptoms?—I have only known an animal has died by having the hand over the heart. It has been in a state of spasms at that time. In one or two cases the animal has died quietly, as if there was a remission; sometimes it dies apparently during the spasms itself.

What appearance have you observed after death which would be different from the ordinary appearances—the outward appearances? Are the muscles more than usually rigid?—In some instances the animal has been rigid throughout; that is to say, it has died in a spasm, and the rigidity has continued, the muscles so strongly contracted that for a week afterwards it was possible to hold the animal horizontally extended by the hind legs without the body falling. In an animal killed the other day the body was flexible at the time of death, but it became rigid about five minutes after death. I have opened the bodies of animals that have been thus destroyed. I have found no appearances in the stomach or intestines which would indicate any injury there. I have found in one or two cases congestion of the vessels of the membranes. In other cases I have not found any departure from the ordinary state of blood. The membranes of the spinal cord and brain are a continuation one of the other, so that it is not easy to have congestion of one without congestion of the other. The congestion of those membranes has been due to fits which the animal has had before death. In three out of five cases I failed to discover any abnormal condition of the spinal cord or brain. As to the hearts of animals thus killed, from all that I have seen the heart has been congested with blood, the right side especially. The description given by Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones of the symptoms which accompanied the attack on Mr. Cook are similar to those I have seen in animals to which I have administered strychnia.

Alfred Taylor

How long does it take in the case of rabbits to which you have administered strychnia from the time the first symptoms manifest themselves to the time of the death?—They have died in various periods—one died in thirteen minutes, one in seventeen minutes; that, I should mention, would be the whole time. The symptoms appear more rapidly when the poison is administered in a fluid state, and death has taken place in five or six minutes after. The experiments which I have particularly noticed and performed lately, and which I am about to detail, have been in reference to solid strychnia. In the first the symptoms began in seven minutes, and the animal died in thirteen minutes from the time the poison was given; in the second the symptoms appeared in nine minutes, the animal died in seventeen minutes; in the third the symptoms appeared in ten minutes, the animal died in eighteen minutes; in the fourth the symptoms appeared in nine minutes, and the death took place in twenty-two minutes; in the fifth the symptoms appeared in twelve minutes, and the death took place in twenty-three minutes. In the human subject, supposing this poison to be administered in the shape of pills, I should expect it would take a longer period before the poison began to act, because it requires that the pill structure should be broken up in order to bring the poison in contact with the mucous membrane of the stomach.

Alfred Taylor

Given that the poison is administered in both cases, to the rabbit and the human subject, in the shape of pills, should you expect a longer period before it began to act on the human subject than the rabbit?—I do not think we can fairly draw any inference; the circulation and absorption are very different. It is very probable that there would also be a difference between one human subject and another in the power of taking the thing up with more or less rapidity. The strength of the dose would make a difference; a large dose would be more rapid than a small dose. I have experimented upon the intestines of animals to reproduce the strychnia or to discover it. (Dr. Taylor described the chemical tests.) These colour tests, as they are called, are, I think, very fallacious. There are other vegetable matters to which, if these colour tests are applied, similar results as to colour would be obtained. A mixture of sugar and bile will produce the purple and red tint, for instance. Vegetable poisons are more difficult of detection by chemical processes than the mineral ones, and the tests are more fallacious. In four cases of animals destroyed by strychnia Dr. Rees and I endeavoured to reproduce the strychnia, and then applied to it those colouring tests which I mentioned just now. We also tried the effect of taste. In one case by the colour test we satisfied ourselves of the presence of strychnia; in another there was a bitter taste in the liquid, but no indication of strychnia by the colour test. In other two cases there was no indication at all of the presence of strychnia. In the first case we had given a dose of two grains at intervals; in the second case one grain; in the other two cases one grain and half a grain.

How did you account physiologically for the absence of any indication of strychnia where you know strychnia to have been given and to have caused death?—By absorption into the blood so that it is no longer in the stomach; it is in a great part too changed in the blood. In the case of the larger dose there would be a retention of some not absorbed. That would be in cases beyond what was required for the destruction of life. If the minimum of the quantity required to destroy life was given, I do not think I would find any. It would be removed by absorption, and no longer discoverable in the stomach.

Are there any chemical means you are acquainted with whereby the presence of this poison can be detected in the tissues?—There are not; there is no process I am acquainted with when it is in a small quantity; so far as I know it cannot be detected.

In addition to this distribution of the half grain, which you tell us is known to have destroyed human life, over the whole system, in your opinion does it undergo decomposition as it mixes itself with the animal tissues?—I believe it undergoes some change in the blood. That increases the difficulty in detecting it in the tissues. I have never heard of its being separated in a crystallised state from the tissues.

Alfred Taylor

After the post-mortem examination on the body of Mr. Cook some portion was sent up to me. I experimented to ascertain if there were any poison present. We sought for prussic acid, oxalic acid, morphia, strychnia, veratrea, a poison of white hellebore, the poison of tobacco, hemlock, arsenic, mercury, antimony, and other mineral poisons generally. We only found small traces of antimony. The part which we had to operate upon was in the most unfavourable condition for finding strychnia if it had been there. The stomach had been completely cut from end to end; all the contents were gone, and the fine mucous surface, on which any poison if present would be found, was lying in contact with the outside of the intestines, all thrown together. There was also succulent matter on the surface of the mucous membrane, derived from the intestines, the contents of which partly escaped. The inside of the stomach had been forced into this mass of intestinal succulent matter; at any rate, it was lying so. In journeying up to London it must have been shaken in every possible way. The contents of the intestines were there, but the contents of the stomach were gone. If there had been any of this poison present I should have expected to have found it in the contents of the stomach and on the mucous membrane. At my request other portions of the body were sent—the liver, the spleen, and the two kidneys; in addition, a small bottle of blood, unlabelled, giving us no idea whence it was taken. We analysed all those portions. We searched for mineral poison in the liver and kidneys, and discovered antimony in an eighth part of the liver; we analysed only the left kidney and the spleen, and there were traces of antimony in each. The quantity was less in proportion in the spleen than in the other parts. The blood contained antimony.

Would its being found in the blood enable you to form any opinion how shortly before death the antimony had been given?—It is impossible to say with any precision, but I should say shortly before death—within some days; the longest period known at which antimony has been found in the blood, after a person has ceased to take it, was eight days. I heard the account by the servant girls of the vomiting of Mr. Cook; I also heard the account given of his vomiting at Shrewsbury, and by the medical men, Gibson and Jones, and Dr. Bamford’s deposition as to the concomitant symptoms. In my opinion, the vomiting would be such as might be produced by antimony. Tartar emetic is soluble in fluids, and if mixed with broth or toast and water would not affect the colour.

From these traces of the antimony can you form any judgment as to the time when the antimony was taken?—It is impossible to say with any precision, but I should say within two or three weeks at the outside. We did not find any perceptible quantity dissolved in the fluids of the body and the washings of the stomach; therefore I should infer there was no evidence of any given within some hours of death. I think that which I found in the liver might have been administered within eighteen hours of death or within two days. I know by experience it takes a shorter time to get to the liver. Antimony does not affect the taste of anything if it is given in quantities which would cause vomiting. If a large quantity was taken at once it might leave a choking or constricting sensation, as if the throat was contracted. There was no trace of mercury. I should have expected to find mercury according to the quantity taken. If a few grains had been taken recently before death I should expect to find some trace in the liver. Supposing a man had been taking mercury for any syphilitic affection within anything like a recent period before death I should expect to find it. I heard the evidence which was given as to the deaths of Mrs. Smith, Agnes French, and the lady referred to, and also the case of the gentleman of whom Mr. Moore spoke. Judging by the results of my own experiments and studies, I agree that those deaths were occasioned by strychnia. Mr. Cook’s attacks appear to me to be of a similar character.

As a professor of medical science do you know any other cause in the nature of human diseases to which the symptoms of Mr. Cook’s death can be referred except to strychnia?—I do not.

Alfred Taylor

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—In the course of your examination you have frequently used the words “traces of antimony.” What was the meaning of “trace”?—A very small quantity.

In analytical chemistry does it mean an imponderable quantity?—I do not apply it in that shape. Some chemists mean that. I mean we obtained some quantity in that sense from many parts, and that the quantity thus calculated would make a ponderable quantity in the whole. We have about half a grain.

You did not actually ascertain it to amount to half a grain?—No. I do not think a quarter of a grain would have explained the quantity we obtained. I will undertake to say there was half a grain to the best of my judgment.

In all parts of the body you examined?—There was more in the parts of the body examined, but we extracted that quantity.

In your judgment would that be sufficient to cause death?—No. I was first asked to investigate this case on Tuesday, 27th November, by Mr. Stevens. Either on that day or subsequently he mentioned the name of Mr. Gardner to me. After Mr. Stevens spoke to me he and Mr. Boycott came together with these jars.

You wrote a letter, the whole of which I will read to you. It is in reply to a letter received from Mr. Gardner—

Dr. Rees and I have compared the analysis to-day. We have sketched a report, which will be ready to-morrow or next day. As I am going to Durham Assizes on the part of the Crown, in the case of Reg. v. Wooler, the report will be in the hands of Dr. Rees, No. 26 Albemarle Street. It will be most desirable that Mr. Stevens should call on Dr. Rees, read the report with him, and put such questions as may occur. In reply to your letter received here this morning, I beg to say that we wish a statement of all the medicines prescribed for deceased (until his death) to be drawn up and sent to Dr. Rees. We did not find strychnia nor prussic acid or any trace of opium. From the contents having been drained away, it is now impossible to say whether any strychnine had or had not been given just before death. But it is quite possible for tartar emetic to destroy life if given in repeated doses; and, as far as we can at present form an opinion, in the absence of any natural cause of death, the deceased must have died from the effects of antimony in this or some other form.

Was that your opinion at the time?—It was. That was all we could infer from the chemical analysis.

Alfred Taylor

Have you not told me to-day that the quantity of antimony that you found in Cook’s body was not sufficient to account for death?—Perfectly so; but what was found in Cook’s body was not all he took. We found antimony, and we could not account for its being there. I wrote to know whether antimony had been given as a medicine, and I considered, as people had died from antimony, it was necessary to have information of the symptoms connected with the man’s death, which I knew nothing about at the time; finding antimony there and no explanation, I put it as the only hypothesis to me to account for death.

Had you any reason to think any undue quantity had been administered to him?—I could not speculate on that from the quantity there, for I did not know at all what quantity he had taken, and whether it had been prescribed medicinally.

May not the injudicious use of quack medicines containing antimony, such as James’ powder or other mixtures, have accounted for as much antimony as you found in the body of Mr. Cook?—Any antimonial preparation would account for it. I knew strychnia was bought before we sent in the report. Mr. Gardner gave the information in a letter in reply to that which has been read that strychnia, prussic acid, Batley’s sedative of opium, had been bought by the prisoner. After giving my evidence at the inquest I returned to town. Soon after I knew that the prisoner had been committed on the charge of wilful murder.

You knew, of course, that his life depended in a great degree on your opinion?—No; my opinion was in reference to the death by poison; I expressed no opinion of the prisoner’s guilt. I knew I would be examined as a witness upon his trial. I wrote a letter to the Lancet on the subject, contradicting several misstatements which were made regarding my evidence. I have never had under my own observation the effects of strychnia on the human body; but I have written a book upon the subject.

Do you, from your reading, know of any fatal case in which the patient under strychnia poison has had, while the paroxysm lasted, as much command over the muscles and voluntary motion as Mr. Cook had on the Monday and Tuesday nights, according to the evidence of Mills and Jones?—I do not see that he had much command over the muscles of voluntary life. His symptoms are quite in accordance with the ordinary action of strychnia.

Can you tell me a single case of a patient seized with tetanic symptoms by strychnia poison sitting up in his bed talking?—He was seized with the tetanic symptoms after he sat up in his bed.

Do you know of a single case of the symptoms of poison by strychnia commencing or exhibiting themselves during any time of the paroxysm by the operation of beating the bed?—There have been only about fifteen cases altogether; I have not heard of a person taken ill in bed before.

Alfred Taylor

Is not the beating of the bed well known under the name of malasaux; is it not a very common symptom of ordinary convulsions?—No, I do not think it is the case, not to my knowledge. I have not a case of a person sitting up in bed and beating the bed.

Have you known any instances in which the patient has screamed before he was seized with the fit?—No. That is common in convulsions not occasioned by strychnia poisoning. In many cases they scream very soon after the spasm sets in; the pain felt is very severe.

This is before the convulsions begin?—No, I have never known that. I have known cases in which they speak freely, but not after the paroxysm has commenced; I do not remember a case at the present time.

Can you tell me or refer me to any one case in which the effect of the strychnia affection or paroxysm in a fatal case has been as long after the ingestion of the poison as in Cook’s case on Tuesday night?—Yes. In a case communicated to the Lancet of 31st August, 1850, p. 259, by Mr. Bennett, one grain and a half of strychnia, taken by mistake, destroyed the life of a healthy young female in an hour and a half, which is remarkable, as no symptoms appeared for an hour.

May I take it that is the longest period which has elapsed between the ingestion of the poison and the commencement of the symptoms on record?—No, I think not.

Do you know a single case in which the symptoms have manifested themselves as long as an hour and a half after the ingestion of the poison?—No, I do not.

Do you know any case of strychnia poison in which the patient has recovered from a paroxysm in as short a time as Mr. Cook did, he being well before the morning?—I do not remember any, but I can conceive in medical practice such cases.

Do you know any case of strychnia poison in which there was so long an intermission of the paroxysm as between the two fits of Monday and Tuesday night?—No, I do not.

As you choose to go upon rabbits, do you not know that it constantly happens, even in rabbits, that the spasm and the contraction instantly cease immediately with death, or just before death, and that the body becomes perfectly pliant?—No, I do not. It does so in some instances, in one out of five cases.

Alfred Taylor

Do you agree in this opinion of Dr. Christison—“I have not altered the statement as to this point in the former edition, that is, that the rigidity supervenes at an early period after death; yet I strongly suspect the authors who describe the spasm which precedes death to continue as it were without the rigidity that occurs after death must have observed inaccurately, for, in the numerous experiments that I have made and witnessed upon animals, flaccidity of limb continued after death”?—Dr. Christison speaks from his own experience; I speak from my own.

Have you any reason to say that the clenching of the hand is a distinctive feature of strychnia poison?—It is the result of violent tetanic spasms. It occurs in other violent spasms.

In all forms of convulsion?—No; the great point is this, that in tetanus it remains so; in other convulsions it comes and goes.

Is it always so?—That is according to my knowledge.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—I have met with three cases in a human subject in which it has appeared that the heart was found empty after death, where the death had taken place from strychnia. I think the emptiness of the heart is owing to spasmodic affection, the effect upon the heart in the last moment of life. I know of no reason why that should be more likely to be the case in the human subject than in a small animal like a rabbit. The only thing I would observe is, that I think the heart is generally more affected by the paroxysm, so that the blood accumulates.

Suppose the paroxysms short and violent, and cause death in a few minutes?—That is the kind of case in which I should expect to find it empty. The rigidity after death in the cases where I found it always affected the same muscles, the muscles of the limbs, specially the muscles of the back. In the case of poisoning by strychnia, where the rigidity was relaxed in death, it returns while the body is warm.

Would the rigidity of the extremities as long as two months after death, the clenching of the hands, and the twisting of the feet, afford you any indication of whether the person died of tetanus?—I have never known such a case. That would indicate, in my opinion, great violence of the spasm with which the party died.

With regard to the duration of time in which the effects of the poison would begin to act, to show itself, would it be uniform, do you think, in all persons to whom the same quantity of poison might be given?—It would vary according to the constitution and the strength, according to the power of absorption.

G. O. Rees

Dr. George Owen Rees, examined by Mr. James—I am a Fellow of the College of Physicians, and Lecturer on Materia Medica at Guy’s Hospital. I believe strychnia is absorbed always before it produces the symptoms. If enough strychnia is given to destroy life, that might be done without our being able to discover it after death. I agree with Professor Taylor that it is the excess that is found. Where vitality is destroyed by the effects of the poison, and an excess remains, I would expect with care to discover that excess. The symptoms in the cases of death from strychnia that have been given are analogous, in my opinion, to those of Mr. Cook, and to those produced by strychnia in the experiments I have seen made on animals.

R. Christison

Professor Robert Christison, examined by the Attorney-General—I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians and Professor of Materia Medica to the University of Edinburgh. I published in 1845 a treatise on poisons in relation to medical jurisprudence. Among other poisons, I have turned my attention to strychnia. It acts upon the human frame by absorption into the blood, and then by acting on the nervous system. I have seen a case of strychnia poisoning, but not a fatal one, in a human subject. I have frequently seen experiments tried upon animals—frogs, rabbits, cats, dogs, and one wild boar. In most of my experiments I have given very small doses, a sixth part of a grain, but sometimes as much as a grain. The first symptom that I have observed has been a slight tremor and unwillingness to move, then frequently the animal jerks its head back slightly, and very soon after that all the symptoms of tetanus come on, which have been so often described in the evidence of previous witnesses. There is occasionally an intermission of the spasms for a short while. Where the poison has been introduced into the stomach, between five or six minutes and twenty-five minutes have elapsed from the commencement of the symptoms to the death of the animal. From the giving of the poison to the first symptoms coming on, the appearance of tremor, I have seen as long as twelve minutes elapse, and from the first commencement of the symptoms to their termination in death from five or six minutes to twenty or twenty-five minutes. The symptoms have always been very much the same. Where we can trace it very correctly, I think the jaws and the back of the neck are affected first, then the trunk and the extremities in such rapidity that it is very difficult to follow them in succession. I have sometimes observed differences in individuals of the same species; the intermission sometimes is wanting; some lie in one long continuous spasm, with scarcely any intermission, but that is uncommon. I have generally found that the animal is in a state of flaccidity about the period of the termination of life. I have always observed an interval before the rigidity that takes place after death. There is a cessation of the symptoms immediately before death; the rigidity is gone, the body is flaccid. The rigidity is renewed very soon after death. I have frequently opened the bodies of the animals that have thus been killed. I never could find that the poison had produced any apparent effect upon the stomach or intestines. I have never found any apparent effect on the spinal cord or brain which I could trace satisfactorily to the poison. I have always found that the heart of the animal after death contained blood. Others have found it devoid of blood, but I have not. In the one case of the human subject which I saw the symptoms were the fixing of the jaw, spasmodic retraction of the head, slight grinning expression of the mouth, and a slight stiffness of the arms and legs. There was no convulsion of the muscles of the trunk, nor any convulsive movement of the arms and legs in that case. I have collected all the cases that have occurred up to the time of the publication of my book as far as I am aware. The poison appears to require a longer time in producing its effect in the larger animals than the small. In the case of the wild boar, the poison was injected into the chest. The animal died in ten minutes, from the third of a grain. I think there are cases where strychnia, given to the human subject in the shape of nux vomica, has not operated for about an hour. Strychnia itself is generally given in the solid form, sometimes in the fluid form. When given in the fluid form the symptoms are not so long in appearing as when given in the solid form. When given in the shape of a pill the time it takes to act depends very much upon the material used for making the pill. To make the appearance of the symptoms as late as possible the poison might be mixed up with resinous materials, which are all difficult of digestion. Such materials would be within the knowledge and reach of a medical man, and some are often used for making ordinary pills. Absorption would not begin until the pill came to be broken up or digested; the less soluble the pill the longer would be the period required.

Now, independently of that, does the state of knowledge upon this subject enable you to predicate with anything like certainty or accuracy the period that would be required in the human subject before such poison would begin to operate after it has been taken into the stomach; does the state of science enable you to form an opinion as to the precise time, or near the precise time, that it would require for this poison to operate?—I do not think we can fix from our present knowledge the precise time for the poison beginning to operate. When we give poison to an animal for the purpose of watching the effect of the poison, we give it in a manner in which it would act most rapidly, whether in the fluid or the solid form. We take care that the animal is fasting, and have every circumstance favourable for the action of poison. We mix it up with materials that are readily soluble in the stomach. I have seen a good many cases of tetanus arising from wounds, but very few from natural diseases.

R. Christison

Is there, in your opinion, any marked difference between what I may call natural tetanus and the tetanus of strychnia?—I would not rest much upon the little difference of particular symptoms, but rather upon the course and the general circumstances attending them. First, that in all the natural forms of tetanus the symptoms begin and advance much more slowly; and, secondly, they prove fatal much more slowly. When once set up in natural forms of tetanus there is no intermission. Where the first paroxysm does not prove fatal there are short intermissions in tetanus from strychnia. I heard the evidence given by Elizabeth Mills of what took place on the Monday, and by Mr. Jones of what took place on the Tuesday night when Mr. Cook died.

Now, of the two classes of tetanus, to which should you refer the spasm and other symptoms spoken to by those two witnesses?—To strychnia, or one of the natural poisons containing it—nux vomica, St. Ignatius’s bean, snakewood, and a poison called exhetwick. They belong to different plants of the same genus, from all of which strychnia may be obtained. There is no natural disease that I have ever seen or that I otherwise know to which I can refer these symptoms which I have heard described.

When death takes place from tetanus or tetanic convulsions, does consciousness continue?—As long as one can make an observation upon it, it remains. When the animal is in a state of strong universal spasm it is impossible to make any observation on its consciousness. The heart of a human subject killed by strychnia has sometimes blood in it and sometimes not. Whether the heart contains blood or not depends upon the particular mode of death, or the dose varying. Spasms of the heart would expel the blood.

Where death has taken place from strychnia I should not expect to find it where the quantity taken is small, but where there is a considerable excess over the quantity necessary to destroy life by absorption I should expect to find it. Colouring tests are, I think, uncertain in some respects. Vegetable poisons are generally more difficult to detect. There is one I know for which there is no test I know of. The stomach that was sent to Dr. Taylor to operate upon, from the description that he gave of it to-day, was in a very unsatisfactory condition. If I had been called upon to analyse such a stomach, I should not have entertained any reasonable expectation of doing any good with it if I had not been informed that there was a considerable quantity of strychnia present. I have no doubt, from the evidence I have heard as to the Leeds case, the Glasgow case, and the Romsey case, that they were deaths from strychnia. The symptoms in these cases appear to me very similar to those of Mr. Cook.

R. Christison

Cross-examined by Mr. Grove—From my own observation, I should say that animals who die from strychnia die of suffocation—asphyxia; but in another part of my book which is referred to, I leave the question open. By asphyxia I mean stopping of the respiration.

Where is it in your book?—It is under the head of nux vomica, at the bottom of page 898.

I do not find that meets the case?—It leaves the question open; it takes place through an influence on the heart sometimes, and through an influence on the respiration; it is now more open, particularly from the cases which have occurred of death from strychnia.

In the animals poisoned by strychnia that you examined was there blood in the right cavity?—Yes, in both.

You state in your book, and you tell me that when death does not take place suddenly in a fit of spasms, the person continues to be affected for twelve or fourteen hours, with small or milder paroxysms. Is that a statement which, according to your subsequent knowledge, is correct?—I have known the effects cease in a shorter time.

You state on page 903, after mentioning a case where the body was rigid, “the state of rigidity, however, does not invariably occur; on the contrary, in animals the limbs become very flaccid immediately after death, but the usual rigidity supervenes at an early period.” I presume the rigidity of which you speak is the rigidity of death, rigor-mortis?—Yes.

You have a note—“I have not altered the statement as to this point in a former edition, yet I strongly suspect that authors who describe the spasms which produce death, and continue the rigidity after death, must be inaccurate.” Is that your present opinion?—I think it is very likely, the interval being very short, that the attention may not have been attracted to the fact of there having been an interval of flaccidity. There have been some cases mentioned, very strong indications certainly, of the spasm having continued from the spasm of life to what we call spasm of death; but I still think the differences which are indicated in different cases may be explained on the supposition that there has been a want of minute and accurate attention.

Now, you mention a case on page 906, where a boy, when he was touched, was immediately thrown into a fit. Is it your present impression that, in cases of poisoning by strychnia, there is a tendency to throw the patient into a fit when touched?—That is the only case. In animals it is very remarkable; it is not noticed in the generality of cases. I have been struck with the fact that it has not more often been noted. Dr. Watson’s book mentions one. It is not that the absence of it is noted, but that it is not mentioned at all. I have invariably observed it in animals, unless you touch them very gently indeed.

R. Christison

You stated that care was taken in administering strychnia to animals to administer it to them fasting. Do you think it not likely it would supervene more quickly if administered to an empty stomach?—Certainly.

If resinous substances were used in a pill, would they not be found in the stomach on analysis afterwards?—No; if they were not acted upon they might pass into the intestines and be carried off.

Then the strychnia would be discharged with them, would it not?—Certainly, or gradually acted upon with the resinous substances.

I suppose if the resinous substances prevented the poison acting rapidly, it would prevent its absorption into the blood?—For a time.

If so, the more likely to leave portions of it in the stomach or intestines as the case may be?—The more likely.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—Would that materially depend on the quantity of the dose?—Both on the dose and on the time during which the pill was allowed to remain. It appears that colour tests are not to be relied upon in the case of strychnia in an impure condition. In the first place, you may not find indications of strychnia, and secondly, they are subject to fallacy, even if the strychnia is pure, from other substances not containing strychnia presenting similar appearances.

The Court then adjourned.

Sixth Day, Tuesday, 20th May, 1856.

The Court met at ten o’clock.

John Jackson

Dr. John Jackson, examined by Mr. James—I am a member of the College of Physicians. I have been in practice for twenty-five years in India, and have seen cases of idiopathic and traumatic tetanus. Idiopathic is more common in India than in this country. I have seen not less than forty cases. It is common with children. In children there is a more marked symptom of lockjaw, but in adults there is no difference between the symptoms of idiopathic and traumatic. I have always seen idiopathic tetanus preceded by a peculiar expression of the countenance, stiffness in the muscles of the throat and of the jaw. In infants it will kill in forty-eight hours; in adults, arising from cold, it is of longer duration, and may continue many days, going through the same grades as the traumatic form.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Shee—The patient always appears uncomfortable for some time before the attack comes on. His appetite and desire for food are not much affected. He may take his food as usual within twelve hours of the preliminary symptoms.

During the twelve hours, supposing the attack to be the first one under which he suffers, does he seem not to relish his ordinary food?—His attention is more directed to the stiffness of his mouth and the stiffness of his neck.

You said to within twelve hours of the attack he relishes his food as if no attack was impending, but does he not appear less desirous of food and less inclined to eat it?—I have never heard that complaint.

Re-examined by the Attorney-General—What interval has occurred in those cases that have come under your attention between the preliminary symptoms and the tetanic convulsions?—In an infant, not more than twelve hours, and in an adult, from twelve to twenty-four hours; sometimes more than that.

And from the commencement of the tetanic convulsions to death, what time?—That will vary; three days to ten days; it may take place early sometimes, perhaps in two days, but that is early.

Does that apply to traumatic as well as to idiopathic tetanus?—They are both alike, when the disease sets in, as regards the course of the symptoms.

Are the symptoms more or less severe in India than in this climate?—I do not see there is any difference; when once set up, the symptoms of tetanus are the same.

John Jackson

In all your experience, did you ever know a case in which the disease ran its course and ended in death in the space of twenty minutes or half an hour?—I have never seen it.

[The rest of this day, after Dr. Jackson’s evidence, was occupied with taking evidence that there was nothing in Palmer’s papers to show joint transactions between him and Cook; as to Pratt’s and Padwick’s accounts; as to Palmer’s pecuniary position generally; as to the forgery of his mother’s name, and the forgery of an endorsement on a cheque for £375 of Cook’s name, by which he passed into his own account that sum which was intended for Cook.]

The Court then adjourned.

Mr. Serjeant Shee.

Seventh Day, Wednesday, 21st May, 1856.

The Court met at ten o’clock.

Speech for the Defence.

Serjeant Shee

Mr. Serjeant Shee—May it please your lordships, gentlemen of the jury—I should pity the man who could rise to perform the task which it is now my duty to attempt unoppressed by an overwhelming sense of diffidence and of apprehension. Once only before has it fallen to my lot to defend a fellow-creature upon trial for his life; it is a position, even if the effort should last but for a day, of a nature to disturb the coolest temperament and try the strongest nerves; how much more so when, during six long days, in the eye of my unhappy client, I have been standing between him and the scaffold; conscious that the least error of judgment on my part might consign him to a murderer’s doom, and that through the whole time I have had to breast a storm of public prejudice such as has never before imperilled the calm administration of justice! Gentlemen, it is useless for me to conceal what you know perfectly well, what your utmost endeavours cannot wholly have effaced from your recollection, that for six long months, under the sanction and upon the authority of science, an opinion has universally prevailed that the voice of the blood of John Parsons Cook was crying up unto us from the ground, and that that cry was met by the whole population under an impression and conviction of the prisoner’s guilt in a delirium of horror and indignation by another cry of “blood for blood”! You cannot have failed to have entered upon the discharge of the duties, which you have, as I have observed, most conscientiously endeavoured to perform, without having been to a great extent influenced by that cry; you could not know that it would be your duty to sit in that box to pass between the Crown and the prisoner; you may with perfect propriety, understanding that the facts had been ascertained before a coroner’s jury, and reading such evidence as was there taken, have formed an opinion upon the question of the guilt or innocence of the prisoner; but you cannot but know that whatever that opinion may have been it is your duty to discard it, at least until you have heard the evidence on both sides.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, the very circumstances under which we meet in this case are of a character to excite mingled feelings of encouragement and alarm. Those whose duty it is to watch over the safety of the Queen’s subjects felt so much apprehension lest the course of justice should be disturbed by the popular prejudice which had been excited against the prisoner, so much alarmed that an unjust verdict might in the midst of that popular prejudice pass against him, that a resolution was taken, not only by the Queen’s Government and the Legislature, upon the motion of the noble and learned judge, who presides here, in the House of Lords, that an Act of Parliament should be passed to prevent the possibility of the ordinary forms of law being, in the case of William Palmer, made the instrument of popular vengeance. The Crown, under the advice of its responsible Ministers, resolved also that this prosecution should not be left in private hands, but that its own law officer, my learned friend the Attorney-General, should take upon himself the responsibility of conducting it properly, at once sternly in his duty to the public and fairly to the prisoner at the bar; and my learned friend, when that duty was entrusted to him, did what I must say will, in my opinion, for ever redound to his honour—he insisted that in a case in which so much prejudice had been excited all the evidence which it was intended on the part of the Crown to press against the prisoner should, as soon as he received it, be communicated to the prisoner’s counsel; everything, I must say and tell my unhappy client, everything which the constituted authorities of this land, everything which the Legislature and the law officers of the Crown could do to secure a fair and impartial trial in this case, has been done, and the whole responsibility, if unhappily injustice should on either side be done, now weighs with terrible pressure upon my lord and upon you.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, one great misfortune has befallen the accused—a most able man who had been selected by him as his counsel many weeks ago has been, unfortunately, by illness prevented from discharging that duty to him. I have endeavoured, to the utmost of my ability, to supply his place; I cannot deny that I am awed—that I am moved—by the task I have undertaken; but the circumstances to which I have already adverted, the national effort, so to speak, through the Government of the country, to ensure a fair trial is a great cause of encouragement, and I am not dismayed. I have this further cause for not being altogether overcome by the duty which I have of defending the prisoner and of discussing the mass of evidence which has been laid before you, that though, of course, like everybody else, I knew generally and loosely, very loosely indeed, the history of these transactions at Rugeley, I had formed, when the papers came into my hands, no opinion upon them, no opinion upon the guilt or the innocence of the prisoner at the bar, and my mind was perfectly free to form what I trust will be declared by you a right judgment in this case. I commence his defence, I say it in all sincerity, with an entire conviction of his innocence. I believe that there never was a truer word pronounced than the words which he pronounced when he said “Not guilty” to this charge. If I fail in establishing that to your satisfaction I shall be under a great misgiving that my failure was more attributable to my own ability to do justice to this case than to any weakness in the case itself; and I will give you this proof of the sincerity with which I declare upon this evidence my conviction of his innocence, that I will meet the case of the prosecution foot to foot at every stage. I will grapple with every difficulty which has been suggested by my able friend the Attorney-General. You shall see that I avoid no point because I fail to approach it, and if you find that I do thus deal fairly with you from the beginning, and it is my duty to do so, I hope I may be sure, indeed I know I may be sure, of a willing and considerate attention to an address which must, I fear, be long, but in which there shall be no observations, no tone, and no topic of discussion which do not properly belong to the case.

Gentlemen, the case which the Crown undertakes to establish against the prisoner at the bar, and to support by entirely circumstantial evidence, is, or may be, shortly stated thus. They say that the prisoner having in the second week in November made up his mind that it was his interest to get rid of John Parsons Cook, deliberately prepared his body for deadly poison by the slower poison of antimony, and afterwards despatched him by the deadly poison of strychnia. No jury will convict a man of the crime thus imputed to the prisoner, unless in the first place it be made clear that he had some motive for its commission, some strong reason for desiring the death of Cook; unless, in the second place, the symptoms of the deceased before death, and the appearance presented by his body after death, were consistent with the theory of death by strychnia poison, and inconsistent with the theory of death from other and natural causes; unless, thirdly, the circumstantial evidence against him is such as to be inexplicable upon the supposition of his innocence. Now, it is under these three heads that I intend to discuss the evidence that you have heard; and it must be plain to you that if I adhere to that order and method of treating the vast amount of proof which has been laid before you, I must exhaust the whole argument, and leave myself no chance without immediate detection of evading any difficulty in the defence.

Serjeant Shee

Before, however, I proceed to grapple in these close quarters with the case of the Crown, as made by the Attorney-General, allow me, that you may at once see the whole scope of the address with which I have to trouble you, to claim its proper place in the discussion for a fact which, though by no means concealed from you by the Attorney-General, yet appeared to me in that address by which he at once seized upon your judgment to have been thrown too much into the shade, the fact that strychnia was not found in the body of John Parsons Cook. If he died from the poison of strychnia, he died within two hours of the administration to him of a very strong dose of it—he died within a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes of the effects of that dose being visible in the convulsions of his body; the post-mortem examination took place within six days of his death—there is not the least reason to suppose that between the time of the ingestion of the poison, if poison was taken, and the paroxysm in which he died, there was any dilution of it in the stomach, or any ejection of it by vomiting. Never, therefore, were circumstances more favourable; unless the science of chemical analysis is altogether a failure for detection of the poison of strychnia, never was there a case in which it ought to have been so easy to produce it. Now, the fact is, and it is beyond all question, that it was not found. Whatever we may think of Dr. Alfred Taylor, of his judgment, and of his discretion, we have no reason to doubt that he is a skilful analytical chemist—we have not the least reason to suppose, we know the contrary, that he and Dr. Rees, who assisted him, did not do all that the science of chemical analysis could enable man to do to detect the poison of strychnia. They had distinct information from the executor and near relative of the deceased, either personally or through his solicitor, that he, for some cause or other, had reason to suspect the poison of strychnia; they undertook the examination of the stomach, which, I think, upon the whole evidence, without adverting to that part of it now in detail, you will be satisfied was not in an unfavourable condition for a sufficiently accurate analysis, with the expectation that if strychnia had been taken it would be found, and without any doubt as to the efficiency of their tests to detect it; and yet in their letter of the 4th of December they say, “We do not find strychnia, prussic acid, or any trace of opium; from the contents of the stomach having been drained away it is impossible to say whether any strychnia had or had not been given just before death, but it is quite possible for tartar emetic to destroy life, if given in repeated doses; and, as far as we can at present form an opinion, in the absence of any natural cause of death, the deceased may have died from the effects of antimony in this or some other form.” Having afterwards attended the inquest, and heard the evidence of Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones, of Lutterworth, and the evidence of a person of the name of Roberts, who spoke to the purchase of strychnia poison by Palmer on the morning of the Tuesday, Dr. Taylor came to the conclusion that the pills which were administered to Cook on the Monday and Tuesday night contained strychnia, and that Mr. Cook was poisoned by it; and he came to that conclusion, though he had expressed an opinion in writing that he might—and these are his very words—have been poisoned by antimony, of which some trace was found by him in the body, while no trace was found of strychnia.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, I am not about to discuss that part of the case in detail, but I call your attention to it for the purpose of claiming for it its proper place in this discussion, and that you may know at the commencement of my address what the whole course of my argument will be, and not be under the impression that, because I do not under the three heads to which I have directed your attention advert particularly to that head. I intend to pass it over. I tell you exactly what the case for the defence will be, as to the point that strychnia was not found in Mr. Cook’s body. Let me state it as fairly as I can—the gentlemen who have come to the conclusion that strychnia may have been there, though they did not find it, have arrived at that conclusion by experiments of a very partial kind indeed; they contend that the poison of strychnia is of that nature, that when once it has done its fatal work, and become absorbed into the system, it ceases to be the thing which it was when it was taken into the system; it becomes decomposed, its elements separated from each other, and therefore no longer capable of responding to the tests which, according to them, would certainly detect the poison of undecomposed strychnia; that is their case. They account for the fact that it was not found, and for their still retaining the belief that it destroyed Mr. Cook, by that hypothesis. Now, it is only a hypothesis; there is no foundation for it in experiment; it is not supported by the evidence of any eminent toxicologist but themselves—it is due to them to say, and to Dr. Taylor in particular to say, because it will be quite out of my power to speak of Dr. Christison through any part of this discussion except with the respect and consideration which is due to a man of eminent acquirements and of the highest character; it is due to Dr. Taylor to say that he does propound that theory in his book, but he propounds it as a theory of his own; he does not vouch, as I remember, any eminent toxicologist in support of it; and when we recollect that his knowledge on the matter consists—good, humane man!—in having poisoned five rabbits twenty-five years ago, and five since this question of the guilt or innocence of Palmer arose, his opinion, I think, unsupported by the opinions of others, cannot have much weight with you; however, what I have to say now upon that point is, that I will call before you many gentlemen of the highest eminence in their profession, analytical chemists, to state to you their utter renunciation of that theory. I will call before you Mr. Nunneley, a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, and Professor of Surgery at the Leeds School of Medicine, who attended that case of strychnia poison that took place at Leeds, and to which we have agreed that no reference shall be made by name. I will call before you Dr. Williams, Professor of Materia Medica at the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland, and surgeon for eighteen years to the City of Dublin Hospital, who will tell you that he also entirely rejects that theory, and believes that it has no foundation in experiment or authority. I will call before you Dr. Letheby, one of the ablest and most distinguished among the men of science in this great city, Professor of Chemistry and Toxicology in the Medical College of the London Hospital, and medical officer of health of the city of London, who also rejects that theory as a heresy unworthy of the belief of scientific men. I will call before you Dr. Nicholas Parker, of the College of Physicians, a physician of the London Hospital and Professor of Medicine to that institution, who concurs with Dr. Letheby in his opinion; Dr. Robinson, also of the Royal College of Physicians; Mr. Rogers, Professor of Chemistry to St. George’s School; and lastly, I will call before you probably the most eminent chemical analyst in this country, Mr. William Herapath, of Bristol, who totally rejects the theory as utterly unworthy of credence—all of these gentlemen contending, and ready to depose to it on their oaths, that not only if half a grain, or the fiftieth part of a grain, but I believe they will go on to say that if five, or ten, or twenty times less than that quantity had entered into the human frame at all, it could be and must be detected by tests which are unerring. They will tell you this, not as the result of a day’s cruelty for ever regretted on five rabbits, but upon a large and tried experience upon the inferior animals, made and created, as you know they were, for the benefit of mankind; upon a very extensive experience in many cases, as to many of them, of the effects of strychnia on the human system. And not to detain you on this part of the case, to which I only now advert, not intending to press it on you later at any length, that you may see what the nature of the defence in point of medical testimony will be, I will satisfy you by evidence which I think must control your judgment, that the only safe conclusion at which you can arrive is that strychnia not having been found in Cook’s body, under the circumstances of this case never could have been there. You will find that they all agree in this opinion, that no degree of putrefaction or fermentation in the human system could in their judgment so decompose the poison of strychnia as that it should no longer possess those qualities which in its undecomposed state cause it to respond to the tests which are used for its detection.

Serjeant Shee

Having said so much I will now apply myself to what, in my judgment, is an equally important, if not more important, question in this case, one which I approach with no diffidence whatever except the distrust which I have, under the circumstances in which I speak, of myself, and which, if it were possible for me to write what I think upon it and then to read it to you, I do not entertain the smallest doubt that you must be convinced of the innocence of this man—the question whether, in the second week of November, 1855, he had a motive for the commission of this murder, some strong reason for desiring that Cook should die. I never will believe that, unless it be made clear to you that it was the interest of William Palmer, or that he thought it was his interest, to destroy Cook—I never will believe, till I hear your verdict pronounced, that a jury can come to the conclusion of his guilt. And it seems to me, upon the evidence which has been laid before you, abundantly clear that it not only was not the interest of William Palmer that Cook should die, but that his death was the very worst calamity that could befall him, and that he could not possibly be ignorant that it must be immediately followed by his own ruin. That it was followed by his immediate ruin we know. We know that at the time when he is said to have commenced to plot the death of Cook he was in a condition of the greatest embarrassment. It was an embarrassment which, in its extreme intensity, had come but recently upon him, an embarrassment, too, in some degree mitigated by the circumstance that the person upon whom these bills, which have been stated to you to be forgeries, purported to be drawn was his own mother, a lady of a very large fortune, and with whom he was on the most affectionate terms. Still, he was in a condition unquestionably of great embarrassment. My learned friend has raised the hypothesis of his having a wish to destroy Cook upon the ground of this embarrassment. My learned friend stated to you that the case of the Crown against the prisoner was this, that, “being in desperate circumstances, with ruin, disgrace, and punishment staring him in the face, he took advantage of his intimacy with Cook, when Cook had been the winner of a considerable sum of money, to destroy him and get possession of his money.” That is the theory of the Crown. Now, let us test it as a matter of business, relieving, if possible, our minds from the anxiety we must all feel when the fate of a fellow-creature is at stake, as if it was a case in a private room for the decision of an arbitrator. It is my misfortune not to be able at times to speak otherwise than earnestly, but let us look at it as a matter of business and scrutinise it in every corner. Was it his interest that in the second week in November, 1855, Mr. Cook should be killed by a railway accident? If it was not, we have no motive to ascribe to it. If it was not, and more, if the contrary was clearly his interest, no sensible man would believe that he deliberately plotted and committed the murder. A long correspondence has been put in, the material parts of which letters will, in a subsequent stage of the case, be called to your attention. There is evidently a great deal in it that does not touch the point in the case, but the learned judge, before the end of the case, will direct your mind to a correct appreciation of the contents. I watched them with an anxiety which no words can express. Having had the advantage, for which I shall ever honour my learned friend, of reading the correspondence beforehand, I found the history, as told by the correspondence, filled up by the vivâ voce testimony which was afterwards given. I was aware, at least I firmly believed, that in that correspondence the innocence of the prisoner lay concealed; and I think that I shall be able to show you that it is demonstrative of this proposition that he not only had no motive to kill Cook, but that the death of Cook was the very worst kind of thing that could happen for him. I shall not apologise to you, you would think it very inopportune to do so, for going into the details of this matter. Allow me, confining myself, as it is my duty, to the evidence in the cause, to call your attention to the position in which these two men stood to each other. They had been intimate as racing friends for two or three years; they had had a great many transactions together; they were jointly interested in at least one racehorse which was training at the stables of Saunders at Hednesford; they generally stayed together at the same hotel; they were seen together on almost all the racecourses in the kingdom, and were known to be connected in betting transactions, and adventurers upon the same horses at the same races. It is in evidence that just before Cook’s death he said, in the presence of his friend Jones, addressing Palmer, “Palmer, we have lost a great deal of money upon races this year.” And though it is impossible, Cook being dead, and the mouth of the prisoner sealed, and transactions of this character not being recorded in regular books as the transactions in a merchant’s counting-house are, to give you in the fulness of evidence the actual state of their relations to each other, yet it is abundantly clear, and I will make it more clear to you presently, that they were very closely connected. When, in the month of May, 1855, money was wanted either by Mr. Cook or Palmer, Palmer applied to Pratt for it. He wanted, I think, £200 to make up a sum for the payment of a debt, he having, I think, a balance of £190 in the hands of Pratt. Mr. Pratt would not lend it him without security, and he proposed the security of his friend John Parsons Cook, a gentleman of respectability and a man of substance.

Serjeant Shee

Now, what the exact state of the affairs of John Parsons Cook at that time was I do not know. Such a fortune as he had might be thrown down in a week by the course of life that he was leading. A young man who is reckless as to the mode in which he employs his fortune, and who has only £13,000, may, if he likes, for a year or two pass before the world as a man of much more considerable means; it is not everybody who will go to Doctors’ Commons to ascertain what the exact amount of property he derived from his grandfather was. He was Mr. Cook, of Lutterworth, a gentleman who had a stud of racehorses, who lived expensively, and was known to have inherited a fortune; he was a person whose friendship was at that time probably, and probably continued to be, a matter of considerable convenience to Palmer. You recollect, gentlemen, I am not defending Palmer against the crime of forgery. I am not defending him against the reckless improvidence of obtaining money at the enormous discounts at which he obtained it. The question is, whether he is guilty of murder. Palmer and Cook were then so circumstanced as early as the month of May, 1855. They had had another transaction previously to the date of November, 1855, which I will not advert to now, because it was taken second in the case of my learned friend the Attorney-General; but let us see what their position was in the second week of November, 1855. Respecting that, we have the evidence of Pratt, and from the correspondence which he explained to us there can be no doubt upon our minds. Amongst a mass of bills, amounting altogether to £11,500, which had been repeatedly renewed, there were two bills for £2000 each, which became due in the last week in October; and there was another bill, or two other bills, amounting to £1500 which had become due some time before, but which were held over, as they say, from month to month, Palmer, who was liable upon them, paying for the advantage of having them held over at the end of every month, at what they call interest of about 60 per cent. These three bills, or sums of £2000, £2000, and £1500 were the embarrassments which were pressing upon him in the second week of November; and, be it observed, though pressing upon him, they were pressed upon him by a man, who, no doubt, would have been glad to have got the principal, but who would also upon anything approaching to security have been very well pleased with the interest. How can capital, if it be secure, be better employed than at 40 or 60 per cent. per annum? As long as there was a vestige of good security, Mr. Pratt or Mr. Pratt’s clients desired nothing better than that Palmer should continue to hold the money.

Serjeant Shee

Now, in that state of things, on the 27th of October, Palmer, in answer to an urgent demand upon him for money on the ground of the security becoming doubtful, came up to London, and Pratt insisted that, in respect of one of those bills of £2000 which had just become due, as Palmer could not pay it, he should pay instalments upon it in addition to the enormous interest which he charged; and it was agreed at that interview of the 22nd of October that £250 should be paid down, £250 paid on the 31st of October, and that as soon after as possible a further sum of £300 should be paid, making in the whole a payment on account of that bill of £800 to quiet Pratt, or, as Pratt said, to quiet his clients, and induce them to let the bill stand over. On the 9th of November that £300 was paid, and, when paid, a letter was written, which I beg your particular attention to, and you will see how closely and strongly it bears on the point to which I am now entreating your most anxious consideration; a letter of the 13th of November, that is the day when “Polestar” won the race, written by Pratt to Palmer, as follows:—“Dear Sir,—Curiously enough, I find that the great point of the office is, that your brother had delirium tremens more than once, say, three or four times before his life was accepted, and that actually their medical man, Dr. Hastings, reported against the life, as well as Dr. Wardell. I think I shall be able to get a copy of the proposal through a friend.” Palmer did not know what the proposal was, and therefore probably it had been made by his brother. “The opinions of several secretaries of insurance offices are that the company have not a leg to stand upon, and from the mere fact of the enormous premium, it is plain that the policy was effected on an extra rate of premium on account of the true statement of the condition of health of the assured. The enormous premium will go a great way to give us a verdict.” I do not like to read only one passage from a letter, lest by chance I should mislead, therefore I have read that portion of it; but now attend to this—“I count most positively on seeing you on Saturday; do for both our sakes try to make up the amount to £1000, for without it I shall be unable to renew the £1500 due on the 9th.” What does that mean? Pratt told us yesterday the three sums of £300, £250, and £250, and some other small amount, making up the sum of £800, were instalments payable on the bill overdue, and upon which Pratt had threatened to issue writs against Palmer’s mother, and Palmer had gone almost down on his knees to beg him not to do so; he said, “For God’s sake, do not think of writs.” Now, that £800 being paid, Pratt said, “I shall only credit you for £600; I must take £200 for the interest.” In his letter of the 13th of November he says, “Do for both our sakes try and make up the amount to a thousand”—that is, make the £800 up to a thousand pounds—“for without it I shall be unable to renew the £1500. I must have a larger instalment, or else I cannot keep this bill afloat for you.” He said so, whether it was true or not does not matter in this case; that was the representation which he made, and the duress which he put on Palmer; and, in truth, it meant this—Make it up to a thousand, give me £200 more, or the writ shall be served on your mother. He does not say so, but he said something to the same effect before, and it was a representation that he could not satisfy the people whom he said he represented without that additional sum. Observe, that letter is written on the 13th of November, and Palmer gets it at Rugeley when he arrives on that evening from the race at which “Polestar” won. Palmer, who was at the races the first day, went away in the evening, and went to Rugeley; when he gets to Rugeley, early in the morning of the 14th, the next day probably, he gets this letter of Pratt’s pressing on him the necessity of paying a further sum of £200. What does he do? See if it is possible to doubt that at that time Cook’s life was of the utmost value to him. He instantly returns to Shrewsbury; he sees Cook. They say he dosed him. We will see how probable that is presently. He gets there on the Wednesday; he sees Cook. Cook goes to bed in a state which I will not at present describe; he gets up much more sensible than he went to bed; goes upon the racecourse, and comes home with Palmer to Rugeley on the next day, Thursday; he goes to bed when he gets to Rugeley; he gets up still ill and uncomfortable, but able to go out, and he dines with Palmer that day, Friday.

Serjeant Shee

Now, I beg your attention to this letter. On that day, the 16th, Palmer writes thus to Pratt—“I am obliged to come to Tattersall’s on Monday to the settling, so that I shall not call and see you before Monday, but a friend of mine will call and leave you £200 to-morrow, and I will give you the remainder on Monday.” That is written on the 16th, the day they dine together at Palmer’s house. Now, you recollect that the person who ordinarily settled Cook’s accounts in racing transactions was a person of the name of Fisher, the wine merchant, in Shoe Lane. He was called as the first witness on this trial. That very day Cook writes to Fisher as follows:—“It is of very great importance to both Palmer and myself that a sum of £500 should be paid to a Mr. Pratt, of 5 Queen Street, Mayfair, to-morrow without fail; £300 has been sent up to-night, and if you would be kind enough to pay the other £200 to-morrow on the receipt of this, you will greatly oblige me, and I will give it to you on Monday at Tattersall’s.” Then there is a postscript which I will read, but make no comment upon it now—“I am much better.” What is the fair inference from these two letters? I submit to you that the inference is that at that date Cook was making himself very useful to Palmer. Pratt was pressing him for an additional sum of £200 when he had need of all his money, and Palmer having communicated his difficulty to Mr. Cook, Cook at once comes forward and writes to his agent to pay that £200. And the letter shows more—you may have forgotten that letter, but it was read in the first hour after the speech of my learned friend the Attorney-General; you may have forgotten it, but I read it to you word for word—the passage, “£300 has been sent up to-night,” shows that Cook knew all about it, and probably had an interest in Palmer’s transactions with Mr. Pratt; it was inserted merely for the purpose of putting a good face upon it to Mr. Pratt, as a man does who, not having a farthing of the sum that he wants to pay, will pretend that he has to pay more, in order to represent that he has got a portion of what he wants to pay, and he says, “Will you lend me a little more; I am not entirely dependent upon you for the sum that I have to pay”; or it means that on that day £300, which had come to their hands in some way or other, was by Cook made applicable to the convenience of Palmer—one of those things it means; whichever way you take it, it proves to demonstration that Palmer and Cook were playing into each other’s hands in respect of that heavy incumbrance upon Palmer; and that Palmer could rely upon Cook as a fast friend in any such little difficulty as that; and though his difficulties sound large when we talk of £11,500, the difficulty of the day was nothing like that, because in the spendthrift, reckless way in which they were living, putting on bills from month to month, and paying what sounds an enormous interest per annum, the actual outlay on the day was not always so considerable. I submit to you that letter shows that on the 16th of November, when they say he was poisoning Cook, Cook was behaving to him in the most friendly way, was acquainted with his circumstances, willing to assist in the relief of his embarrassments, and actually to devote a portion of his earnings to the purposes of Palmer. It is perfectly plain, but I will make it plainer if you will attend to me for a moment longer. You will remember that part of the case of my learned friend is this. He says that he intended to defraud Cook; that Palmer having left Cook ill in bed at Rugeley, ran up to town on the Monday, intending to despatch him on the Monday night or the Tuesday; that he ran up to town, went, not to Fisher, who was the agent of Cook, but to Herring, who was his own agent, and told Herring that he was authorised by Cook to settle his Shrewsbury transactions at Tattersall’s, thereby getting command over Cook’s winnings; that he applied them to his own purposes, and, having done so, determined to put Cook out of the way. That is their case. We had the evidence of Fisher on the first day. Fisher is evidently a shrewd, intelligent man; no friend of Palmer’s. He gave, I do not mean to say improperly, I did not wish to throw imputations, but he gave a twist to the dosing at Shrewsbury against Palmer. On the Monday, as on the Tuesday, Cook, though generally indisposed, was during great part of the day quite well, according to the evidence; on the Monday he saw his trainer, Saunders, he saw his two jockeys; he got up and was shaved; he was comfortable the whole day, and the theory is that he was comfortable because Palmer was not there to dose him—you will see how grossly absurd it is presently. He was well on the Monday, quite well on the Tuesday; now, if Palmer had gone up to London, representing that he would do Cook’s business for him through Cook’s own agent, Fisher, Palmer might be perfectly certain if that was done on the Monday Fisher would write to Cook on that night to say that the thing was done and made straight; Herring, you see, does do it the moment the thing is settled between Palmer and Herring; Herring represents Palmer as saying, “You must write me word about some part of the transactions”; he says, “No, I shall write Mr. Cook word at Rugeley.” Do not you think Fisher would have done the same? and if Cook had not known that Palmer intended not to go to Fisher but to Herring, do you not think Cook would have been surprised on the Tuesday morning at not hearing that he had seen Palmer, and that the transactions were settled? Could Palmer, as a man of business, have relied upon Cook’s not being alarmed at Fisher’s not doing it? We had the evidence of Fisher, who says, “On the 17th of November, at Cook’s request, I paid £200 to Mr. Pratt; 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 have deducted that £200 from his winnings if I had settled his account at Tattersall’s; I did not settle the account.” That explains the whole transaction. Cook and Palmer understood each other perfectly well; it was the interest of both of them that Palmer should be relieved from the difficulty of the pressure of Pratt, and accordingly Cook said, “As to the settlement, it shall not go through Fisher; we will have the £200 from Fisher; it shall not be paid to him on Monday; I will let Palmer go up and settle the whole thing through Herring.” And that is what was done; and accordingly Fisher has never been paid since.

Serjeant Shee

Now, there is a letter to which I will call your attention, of the 19th November, 1855, from Palmer to Pratt—“Dear Sir,—You will place the £50 I have just paid you, and the £450 you will receive from Mr. Herring, together £500, and the £200 you received on Saturday,” that is, the £200 that Fisher paid to Pratt at the express request of Cook “towards payment of my mother’s acceptance for £2000, due 25th October, making paid to this day the sum of £1300.” Can you doubt when you take all that together—the dining together on the Friday—Cook writing that letter to Fisher, saying it was of the greatest importance to him as well as to Palmer that the £200 should be paid in order to pacify Pratt, can you doubt that on that day Cook was a most convenient friend to Palmer, and that he could not by any possibility do without him. But it does not end there. Cook died on the Wednesday morning early, the 21st; if we want to know what effect that death had on Palmer, and what interest he had in it, Palmer’s mouth being sealed, we must get it from Pratt. Nobody else that we know knows anything about it; Cook is gone. On the 22nd November, the day after the death—and I am sure you will make some allowance for a day having elapsed after the death of Cook before he wrote—Palmer writes thus to Pratt—“Ever since I saw you I have been fully engaged with Cook and not able to leave him.” Now, unless he murdered him, that is the truest sentence that ever was expressed. He watched the bedside of his friend; he was with him night and day; he attended him as a brother; he called his friends around him; he did all that the most affectionate solicitude could do for a friend that was ill, unless he was plotting his death—“And I am sorry to say after all he died this day, so that you had better write to Saunders; but mind, I must have ‘Polestar’ if it can be so arranged; and should any one call upon you to know what moneys Cook ever had from you do not answer the question.” Then he says, “I sat up two full nights with Cook.” That he sat up the whole of the night may not be true, but he was ready to be called if Cook should be ill; and Elizabeth Mills says after the first serious paroxysm, when she went to bed, she left Palmer in the arm-chair, sleeping by the man whom they say he intended to murder. No! murderers do not sleep by their victims in that way. What is the answer? I read it to you in order that you may see what ruin Cook’s death brought upon Palmer. The answer of Pratt is—and you will see how much it increased the difficulties of Palmer—“I have your note, and am greatly disappointed at the non-receipt of the money as promised, and at the vague assurance as to any money. I can understand that your being detained by the illness of your friend has been the cause of your not sending up the amount.” Attend to this paragraph—“The death of Mr. Cook will now compel you to look about as to the payment of the bill for £500, due the 2nd of December. I have written Saunders informing him of my claim, and requesting to know by return what claim he had for keep and training”; so that the very first effect of Cook’s death was, in Pratt’s opinion, who knew all about it, to saddle Palmer alone with the sum of £500. He says, “The death of Cook will now compel you to look about as to the payment of the bill for £500 on the 2nd of December.” We will investigate the transaction out of which that bill arose, and you will see, I venture to say, that I can satisfy you conclusively that the transaction out of which that bill arose was a transaction for Cook’s accommodation, for which Palmer had lent his name to accommodate Cook, and for which upon Cook’s death Palmer became primarily and alone responsible. It will be for you to judge, if I prove that to you, whether it suited Palmer at that moment to stand before the holder of that £500 bill—some client of Pratt’s—as the only man liable upon it, and whether there was the same chance, supposing it had been for his own accommodation, of putting it on, as they call it, after Cook’s death, as there might have been before. But let me be fair to the prosecution, and state to you now the view that the Attorney-General takes of that £500 transaction. As I told you, I mean to meet his case foot to foot, and to show, and I hope to show him, that there is nothing in it; that if he, as the law officer of the Crown, had had the option of taking up this case or not, he would not have taken it up; that the Crown never would have appeared upon it, but because the universal feeling of the country was such as to render it impossible that the case should not be tried after the verdict of wilful murder obtained on Dr. Taylor’s evidence; and because the Crown, having seen the absolute necessity of its being tried, felt that it would abandon the duty of protecting every one of the Queen’s subjects if it did not take care that a man with so much prejudice against him, that man leading the life that Palmer led, and disgraced by forgeries to a large amount, as it is said, and a gambler by profession, should not have a fair trial. There was no other way of securing a fair trial for this man, as the Attorney-General at once saw—there was no possibility of his being saved but by giving the counsel who defended him all the information that my friend had himself. We will see what his view is. My learned friend states it upon his instruction in this way. He is bound, as I told you in the beginning, in prosecuting this case to prosecute it strenuously; he is bound to put the facts together according to his instructions in such a way that, if they will and ought to establish guilt, it is brought home. Prosecutions must be conducted in that way, or the guilty would escape in nine cases out of ten. And therefore my friend, upon the view of the evidence—a comparatively superficial one—thinks that this is the theory upon which it appears probable that Palmer plotted the death of Mr. Cook. I will read to you from my friend’s speech, with reference to the £500 bill transaction; and, as I understand it, it is the greatest mistake that was ever committed, and would not stand for a moment but for the popular prejudice against Palmer. I think I can satisfy you that is so—“Pratt still declining to advance the money”—that is the £1000 which Palmer wanted him to advance—“Pratt proposed an assignment by Cook of two racehorses, one called ‘Polestar,’ which won the Shrewsbury race, and another called ‘Syrius.’ That assignment was afterwards executed by Mr. Cook in favour of Pratt, and Cook was entitled to the money raised on that security, which realised £375 in cash and a wine warrant.” They twist it in this way, that Palmer, having forged the endorsement of Cook, and being afraid of detection, put Mr. Cook out of the way. That is the view they take of that case. I think I can satisfy you it is impossible that that can be the correct view. It cannot, by any possibility, as it seems to me. It is for you to judge. We know exactly what took place; we had it from Pratt yesterday. What took place was this. Palmer applied for the loan of £1000; Pratt said, “I can’t let you have it.” Palmer said, “Will you discount a bill for £500?” Pratt said, “Not without security.” Palmer said, “What security will you take; it is for the accommodation of Mr. Cook? I have undertaken to get the enclosed bill cashed for Mr. Cook; you had a £200 bill of his.” He reminds him that he had been paid a £200 bill, and he says, “He is a very good and responsible man; will you do it, and I will put my name to the bill?” So that it was represented to Pratt as a transaction for the accommodation of Cook; and Pratt’s answer is, “If Mr. Cook chooses to give me his security I have no objection, but he must execute a bill of sale of his two racehorses, ‘Polestar’ and ‘Syrius,’ and he must execute a power of attorney, and signature to it must be attested by some solicitor in the country, so that I may be quite sure that it is really a valid security; and upon those terms, if you will get all that done, and Mr. Cook will submit to all that, I will give him £375 in money, £65 wine warrant, charging him £10 for expenses, and £50 for discount”—making up the sum of £500; that is what Pratt is willing to do. There is no doubt at all, you know, that Cook attached the highest value to “Polestar”; he was not going to execute a bill of sale with a power of attorney to enable the mortgagee or assignee to enforce it at once; he was not going to do that, and not get any money for doing it; he knew the value of “Polestar” and “Syrius”; “Polestar” was probably backed for the engagements on which he won the money at Shrewsbury. My friend says he never received that £375; it is in the last degree improbable that he never received that money; I put it to you as men of sense that he must have received it; do you think that he remained after executing the bill of sale on the 6th of September the whole time from that day to his death without writing to Pratt—“Why, you have the bill of sale of my two horses, and I have not got any money upon them”? Is it credible, can you believe Cook, who was as much in want of money as Palmer; do you think he would throw away his property in that way, and let Pratt obtain from him a bill of sale and get no money upon it? It is incredible; the only pretence for setting it up is this, it is a perfectly fatal one that will not stand before sensible men for a minute. Along with the cheque for £375 he sent £315 to Palmer for his own purposes; but my friend says Palmer, having got this cheque for £375 payable to order, fraudulently appropriated it to himself; forged the name of Cook upon the back of it, and kept Cook in ignorance of the transaction. Is it credible, that during three whole months Cook, who knew that he had executed a bill of sale of his two racehorses, and I will show you was in want of money, should have allowed it to remain so? Is it not much more probable that the signature of Cook was put on there with his full knowledge? It is not suggested that there was any attempt at imitating his handwriting. Is it not more probable that Cook, who wanted the ready money, and who would probably be put to inconvenience if he did not get the ready money, but only the means of getting it two days later—that Palmer should let him have the £315 cash which was sent up, and Palmer take the cheque? I will show you there is reason for believing that to be the case; I will put it to you, in the first place, whether it is probable he would be silent for three months. Palmer writes, “I will thank you to let me have the £315 by return of post if possible; if not, send it to me by Monday night’s post to the post office, Doncaster. I now return you Mr. Cook’s paper, and he wants the money on Saturday if he can have it; I have not promised it for Saturday, so please to enclose it with mine in cash in a registered letter, and he must pay for its being registered.” So that you see Palmer wanted it to be sent like his own, and Cook wanted it to be sent in cash. “Do not let it be later than Monday night’s post.” Pratt writes acknowledging the receipt of the document, saying he will send him his money to Doncaster, and endeavour to let Cook have his money at the same time. On the 10th of September Palmer writes to Pratt that he must send him for Mr. Cook £385 instead of £375 and the wine warrant, so that he can hand it to him with the £385. Accordingly, here is an intimation that Cook, who wanted the money on the very day, was inconvenienced by only getting a cheque on London which he could not immediately change, and therefore Palmer gave him the money and took the cheque. It is remarkable, when we look at the banking account of Palmer at Rugeley, the £375 is paid in by somebody to Palmer’s account, but the £315 is not paid into Palmer’s account at all; that is the only sum paid in on that day, so that I put it to you upon these facts, Pratt saying in a letter which accompanies the money, “I am obliged to send a cheque for Mr. Cook, for I have not received the money, which I shall do no doubt to-morrow”; so that not being able to send cash to the full amount he is obliged to do that which did not suit Cook; he sent him a cheque which he could not cash on the day he got it; he is obliged to send it to London unless he could find some friend down there, and that delays him for a whole day. I submit to you as the true version of the transaction that the bill was accepted for Cook’s accommodation; Cook gave as security for it the two horses, “Polestar” and “Syrius”; Cook never complained to Pratt during the rest of his life that he had not received the money upon it. It appears in the correspondence that Cook wanted the ready money, and that he wanted it on Saturday, and it would be probably inconvenient if he had got it a bit later than Monday; though Palmer would not promise to get it sooner than Tuesday. What says Palmer in his letter, which is not written for the purpose of this case, but written at the date of this transaction, that he, Palmer, would let Cook have the cash that was sent, and he himself take the cheque with Cook’s authority, and put Cook’s name on the back of it; and how else can you account for the silence of Cook, for the fact that the £375 is paid into the account of Palmer at Rugeley, and no trace of the other large sum of £315? That is well worthy your consideration. You cannot account by any reasonable mode for the fact that the security given for that £500 was Cook’s horses, and Cook remaining quiet about it for three months after he had executed a regular bill of sale, except the supposition that it was for Cook’s accommodation, and Cook got the best part of the money; and, if so, Palmer’s name being on the bill, what is the effect of Cook’s death? Gentlemen, what Pratt, who knew all about it, says is, “The death of Cook makes you liable for that sum of £500 due on the 2nd December.” I submit to you, on the second ground of motive, which my learned friend suggested, the case has altogether failed, and that it is perfectly clear that at the date of Cook’s death Pratt was of opinion that the death of Cook threw a further liability on Palmer of £500; he tells him so in that letter. How could it be his interest to kill him? We already find the difficulties which Cook’s death brings upon Palmer; the bill of £500, the danger of the loss of “Polestar,” which he wanted very much to have, and which Pratt would, of course, unless Palmer paid the £500, send to the hammer, and realise so shortly; we find that inquiries were at once apprehended on the part of Cook’s friends as to the money Pratt had paid to Palmer out of those two bill transactions, and the value which Mr. Cook had received for any endorsement which he had given.

Serjeant Shee

Just see another transaction of that date; it is not quite so clear, as it strikes me, but yet it makes it to my mind exceedingly improbable that Palmer should have desired the death of Cook. Exceedingly improbable! Mr. Wetherby told us to-day that though frequently stakes won at a race were sent up by the clerk of the course to the winner’s bankers within a week, it was not always so, and it would not be a matter of complaint if it was not. On the 20th of November, the day before Cook dies, and on which he was perfectly comfortable and happy, enjoying the society of his friend Mr. Jones, with whom he was on terms of the greatest intimacy, and to whom he could confide any troubles that he had, and who appears to be a gentleman in every way respectable and intelligent—on that day Cook was well, and Mr. Jones was with him, and there is no doubt that on that day, according to the evidence of Mr. Wetherby, he did sign and give this cheque for £350. If Palmer killed him that night, and by any chance the £350 should not have been sent up by Mr. Frail, so as to be there on the next morning, he (Mr. Wetherby) would not pay that cheque, and would never pay it after notice of Cook’s death, though the money should come up. He never did pay it. The end of that transaction was this, that Mr. Frail did not send it up, but made a claim upon Cook in respect of it. Cook’s executors disputed that, and Cook’s executors finally recovered the money, but they did not send it up to Mr. Wetherby. I do not put it as strong as the other case, because Palmer might think that the money would be there; but he also might think that it would not be there. It is not at all likely that, having got the cheque for £350 from Cook, he would run the risk of losing that money by destroying him in the night, Cook’s friends being there, and sure to institute an immediate inquiry into his affairs. Is that probable? I submit to you it is not. It is not likely that Palmer could have got a cheque for £350, or Cook should have given it to him, which should not be payable until the next day, when there might be no funds to meet it; and with that uncertainty, is it likely that Palmer should destroy Cook. That, therefore, is in the last degree improbable. It does not end there—what they have said on the other side is, you know, that he got this cheque fraudulently—he got possession of this money, and then, lest Cook should detect it, he destroyed him. It is not at all probable that that would answer his purpose. The moment the breath was out of Cook’s body his friends would surround the corpse. He might be perfectly certain that Mr. Jones would go to Mr. Stevens, that Stevens and Bradford, his brother-in-law, would be down, and that a post-mortem examination would take place, and instead of settling with Pratt as to this £500 bill and the £350 cheque, he would have to settle with hard men of business, men who cared nothing for him, looked upon him as a blackleg, and would care neither for his feeling, his interest, nor anything, but would let him go to ruin which way he liked, not stirring a finger to save him. Do you think that was probable? I submit to you not. It does not end there. We know from Herring that at that very time Herring held one bill for £500 on which Cook’s name was.

The Attorney-General—I do not think there is any proof of that.

Mr. Serjeant Shee—Whether it be so or not as to the £500, he had three £200 bills, one of which, I think, was drawn by Cook and accepted by Palmer, and the other two drawn by Palmer and accepted by Cook, or the other way.

The Attorney-General—You are quite right as to the £500.

Serjeant Shee

Mr. Serjeant Shee—And another bill of £500, which my friend stated and gave proof was not his mother’s signature. So that there was a bill for £500 not in her handwriting to which Cook was a party, for all of which Cook either in whole or in part, unless he rushed upon his own ruin, must provide; in respect of which, for the accommodation of Palmer or not, Palmer could go to Cook and say, “Now, Cook, it is true enough all these bills are for my accommodation, but what is the use of your making a fuss about that? If I cannot pay, you must, or your stud will be sold up; had you not better give your name to some more bills and make it easy?” If he put Cook to death that was gone. Again, in addition to the £500 bill, for which the bill of sale on “Syrius” and “Polestar” was given, the bill for £500 held by Herring was a forgery, according to their case, which there would be no excuse for not meeting; a £500 bill in the hands of a man who wants the money is not so easily put on; that £500 bill would very soon find its way to his mother. It would not have suited Palmer that his mother should know—his mother was a woman of large fortune, a respectable person I am told—she disliked his gambling propensities though she liked her son; neither did the excellent and most honourable man his brother, before me, who stands by him now, but who was estranged from him simply because he disapproved of his gambling, neither would he have given to him any countenance. If Palmer was pressed to pay that £500, and Cook was dead, there was nothing to save him from the exposure. Nothing! If you doubt what I say is the truth, look through the whole of the case—find me in any portion of this most voluminous evidence the slightest trace that there was a man in the world who would lend his name to Palmer to enable him to get money. Is not the fact that he forged, if he did forge, the name of his mother conclusive that he had no other resource? Is there the least trace of evidence that he had any other resource than the good nature, the easiness, perhaps the folly, of Cook, who could have renewed these bills for him—the three £200 bills and the £500—and put them on as they say? And was it not quite certain that if Cook, the acceptor of them, dropped, the claim would come upon Cook’s executors, and then the executors would ascertain all about it and sell him up? When you come to think of it, is it credible that the man under those circumstances should desire to bring not merely the creditors and executors of Cook—who might be supposed, though Mr. Stevens is not one of that class, to have some pity for Cook’s friend—but men of business, down upon him, who have no right to have any pity? A man dies, his affairs are put into the hands of solicitors; they have a plain duty to perform, they cannot be compassionate, they must be just; they must see the rights of their clients the executors established in due course of law, and compromise and arrangement with them is wholly out of the question. Can you find in any part of this case a single living person who was willing to have done for Palmer what Cook had been doing for him for two or three years? Does it appear that there was one? Does it appear that Cook was a close-fisted fellow, and did not care to do Palmer a turn? When Palmer needed the £200, which the harpy wanted from him, Cook at once wrote and said it is a matter of great importance to him as well as Palmer that this £200 should be paid; and he even risked the displeasure of Fisher in doing it. Then, again, Cook was in his senses perfectly on the Tuesday. He cannot have been very rich at that time. He gave him the cheque for £350. How is it possible to conceive that under those circumstances Palmer should have an interest in the death of Cook, and yet what is the theory of the Crown? That Palmer was convinced that he could settle his affairs as to Cook better with Mr. Stevens than he could with Cook himself—settle these word-of-honour transactions; these things, half of which would not bear inquiry in any way as reasonable business transactions, with a shrewd and probably a penurious man—deliberately thought that it would answer his purpose better to come in contact with his executor, Mr. Stevens, whom Mr. Jones might rush up to town and bring down with him. I submit to you with confidence, though what I say may be inconsistent with the views generally entertained by the public—the public, however, have never had an opportunity of looking at all these letters—but it seems to me as clear as anything can be, that it was the manifest interest of Palmer that Cook should live. But, in addition to its being his interest that he should live, was it safe for him that he should die? Palmer was a man who added to a shrewd knowledge of the world a knowledge of his profession, and, among other things, a knowledge of chemistry. Palmer knew perfectly well, and he had studied his profession sufficiently when he was a young man to know perfectly well, that, if strychnia was administered, it would in all probability throw the victim into horrible convulsions in a very short time, and in a way so striking as to be the talk of a small neighbourhood like Rugeley for a month or two, which would be time enough to alarm everybody, and to provoke inquiries into the circumstances of the death, which must certainly end, or in all probability end, if he was guilty, in his conviction. If that was so, was he so circumstanced at that time as to make it safe for him to run the risk of such suspicions? His brother, Walter Palmer, had died in the month of August, and his only hope, unless his mother forgave him or recognised those acceptances, his only hope of extrication from his difficulties was the getting the amount due by the Prince of Wales Insurance Company to him as the assignee of the policy on Walter Palmer’s life; that was his only chance. He had a chance that way, and it is plain that it was so good a chance, as I will show you presently, that he refused an offer of return of premium from the company; it does not appear what the amount was—and Pratt, who was his attorney, believed the chance to be so good that he had actually got the discounts of these large sums of money upon it, and had resolved, under the directions of Palmer, to put it in suit. It was really the only unpledged property he had, and how was he situated respecting it? It is plain from the letters which were put in yesterday, and it is further plain from a piece of evidence to which you will, I am sure, find it worth your while to pay great attention. We had Mr. Deane called yesterday, who is the attorney to the Prince of Wales insurance office; and for some time—though it had ceased just at that time—but for some time previously to this month of November, the insurance company, which, I believe, is not a very old insurance company, were annoyed at being called upon to pay so large a sum, and they determined to do all they could to resist it. They accordingly sent down Inspector Field to Stafford and his man Simpson to make inquiries, which he could not do without talking and insinuating suspicions and raising a cloud of doubt and conjecture about Palmer, and this had been going on for some considerable time. Now, observe the evidence of Deane, and you will see if it is not so. He says, “The name of my firm is Chubb, Deane & Chubb. I had been to Rugeley some time previously to the inquest. I know Field, the detective officer; we were solicitors to the Prince of Wales insurance office; it was in our employment that Field went to Rugeley; he was at Rugeley only a part of one day; he was at Stafford for three or four days altogether; he did not see the prisoner Palmer; this visit had been preceded by that of another officer named Simpson. Simpson went from Stafford to Rugeley with myself and Field; he told me he had seen Palmer; I think he went into Staffordshire in the first week in October.” Then my learned friend asked him what they went down for; he said that they went down to make inquiries as to the habits of life of Mr. Walter Palmer, of whose death the Prince of Wales insurance office had shortly before received notice; so that you see just before the death of Cook Palmer knew himself to be an object of suspicion, but he acted as if he thought it was the most unfounded and unwarrantable suspicion, putting the policy of insurance into the hands of an attorney to enforce payment of it, and the office meeting the claim by insinuations and inquiries which were of a nature to destroy his character and to bring around his head the suspicion of another murder.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, that that was so I will show you by the letters which were put in yesterday. You see that the pressure by Pratt upon Palmer to meet the two £1000 bills never took place until the office disputed the payment of that policy. All went as smooth as possible so long as Pratt held what he believed to be a good security, the policy upon Walter Palmer’s life, who was dead; but when they began to dispute it, then you will find that Pratt writes to Palmer and tells him the situation of things is quite changed; he could manage the bills very well while that policy was undisputed; but now it is disputed that quite alters the state of things; he says, as he had somewhat anticipated, he finds they can do nothing till the 24th, that is nothing towards compelling the office to pay, because insurance offices generally take three months to pay; and then, stating some other circumstances, he says, “This you will observe quite alters the arrangement, and I therefore must request you to make preparations for meeting the two bills due at the end of this month”; that was where the difficulty was, that was where the pinch was. Then, he says, he shall not flag in his exertions, and so on, and he refers to the circumstances connected with the dispute; Mr. Pratt says—“You, Palmer, know whether they have any ground to dispute that policy upon your brother’s life; you are enforcing it, and if you have no right to do it it is at your peril.” That is what it means, and then he goes on to say, “We must try and make them pay”—that was the position in which Pratt, who was acting for him, stood as to this Prince of Wales insurance office. He says, “In any event, bear in mind that you must be prepared to cover your mother’s acceptances for the £4000 due at the end of the month”; there was the pinch, the office would not pay, the £4000 was becoming due, the holder of the bills saw he was without security, and if anything occurred to increase the suspicions of the insurance office, which was very reluctant to pay, the £13,000 was lost for ever, lost beyond hope. Gentlemen, that £13,000 is sure to be paid unless that man is convicted of murder; and that has a great deal to do with the clamour and alarm which have been excited. So sure as that man is saved, and saved I believe he will be, that £13,000 is paid; there is no defence, no pretence for a defence—the letters of the office make that plain; they took an enormous premium—knowing that the man was only thirty, they took a premium for a man of fifty.

Mr. Attorney-General—That is not in evidence; do you mean to prove that?

Mr. Serjeant Shee—I do not know whether I can show that to be the actual premium, but the letters which were put in show that the premium was enormous; and I say that as sure as he is saved that £13,000 is good for him, and will pay all his creditors.

Now, observe the position in which he was at the moment—all the correspondence turns upon that. This correspondence saves the prisoner, if there is common sense in man.

Serjeant Shee

Now, observe, there is another letter from Pratt containing this passage, “I have your note, acknowledging receipt by your mother of the £2000 acceptance, due the 2nd of October; why not let her acknowledge it herself? You must really not fail to come up at once, if it be for the purpose of arranging for the payment of the two bills at the end of the month; remember I can make no terms for their renewal, and they must be paid. I will, of course, hold the policy for as much as it is worth,” and so on. At this time Simpson and Field were making inquiries how a young man of thirty had died, who had had delirium tremens three times, as their own physician, Dr. Hastings, and Mr. Wardell had informed them. Then in a postscript he says he “casts no doubt upon the capability of the company to pay, but that in the nature of things, with so large an amount in question, it is not surprising that, if they think they have grounds for resisting, they should temporise by delay.” Does not that show that at that date at least, the 6th of October, suspicions were hanging in menacing meteors about Palmer’s head, which would come down with irresistible momentum and crush him upon suspicion of a sudden death by murder? Do you believe that a man who wrote what the effects of strychnia were in his manual would risk such a scene as a deathbed by strychnia, in the presence of the dearest and best friend of Cook—a man whom he could not influence, a medical man, who liked him and loved him well enough when he knew he was ill to sleep with him in the same room that he might be ready to attend to him in case he wanted assistance during the night? Is that common sense; are you going to endorse such a theory as that upon the suggestion of Dr. Alfred Taylor about the effects that strychnia produced upon his five rabbits? Impossible, perfectly impossible! as I submit to you. But to proceed—I will prove to you, most clearly, the position in which he was. On the other side of the letter of the 10th of October Mr. Pratt writes, “Copy of solicitors’ reply”; that is, the solicitors to the Prince of Wales insurance office. He says, “I may add that I hear the office have been making inquiries in every direction.” To be sure, Field was employed; he is not now in the police, but he is employed as a detective officer; he was at Stafford, and was at Rugeley, and was making inquiries in all directions; inquiries could be made at Stafford as well as Rugeley, and all that had taken place at Rugeley just as easily ascertained there as at Rugeley itself; whatever had taken place there would be known. He says they have been making inquiries in all directions. It is plain, then, that he knew that suspicions were then rife, or that they were endeavouring to create suspicions, against him about the policy on the life of Walter Palmer. Here is the very letter which the company wrote in answer to the claim, dated 8th of October, 1855; it is from Messrs. Chubb, Deane & Chubb, the solicitors to the office, addressed to Thomas Pratt, Esq., acknowledging the application; and shortly afterwards Messrs. Chubb send a reply to the application—there is no date to it, but it is enclosed in a letter of the 18th of October from Pratt to Palmer. After apologising for not answering the letter of the 16th instant, owing to the absence of Mr. Deane, they refer to the “local investigation having been made, and decline to pay the claim upon the ground that the facts disclosed in the course of the inquiry are such as fully to warrant them in doing so.” These are letters which my learned friend thought it right to put in yesterday; they are evidence for the Crown, and what is the inference from them? Judge, if you please, from some of the letters to Pratt, and the one which I read first from Pratt to Palmer. Palmer determined that the policy should be paid; he took the advice of Sir Fitzroy Kelly. I see here it is said, “The case will be laid before Kelly to-morrow.” This letter came just before the end of the long vacation; the time to take proceedings had only just commenced, in any event, because the three months had only just expired. But so sure as anything happened by foul play to Cook, he had no more chance of getting the £13,000 than £130,000 from the Prince of Wales insurance office—none whatever. That was the only means he had at that time of extricating himself from those incumbrances.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, I have detained you a long time upon this, but not, I trust, too long, if the view I have submitted be one worthy of your consideration. I infer from all this that Palmer had no interest whatever to put Cook to death; that it was contrary to his interest in a pecuniary point of view, and brought claims upon him, some of them small, others of a larger amount, of which he might have shared the liability with Cook, if not have thrown it entirely upon Cook; that it forced an immediate settlement of the affairs of Cook, not with Cook himself, who was an easy man—it is plain he was—and probably their solicitors, and that therefore in a pecuniary sense he had every motive of interest to desire that Cook should live; and further, he had no chance of getting a ready payment from these documents—but with hard and exacting executors of the £13,000, no chance of the sudden death of Cook passing without suspicion and inquiry, and therefore he could not think it safe for him that he should die.

I cannot, I think, be so much mistaken as that a considerable portion of these observations is not well worthy your attention. I humbly contend that the suggested motive altogether fails; and I conclude that head of the observations which I have to address to you by saying that I submit respectfully to you, to the Court, and to my learned friends that that portion of this case has failed. It could not be the interest of Palmer that Cook should die.

I now proceed to the next head, and it is impossible in dealing with this evidence to observe altogether the order of date. I must group the facts as well as I can in order to deal with the whole of the evidence. The question is whether the symptoms of Cook before his death and the appearance presented by his body after death were consistent with the theory of his having died by strychnia poison, and inconsistent with the theory of his having died from other and natural causes. It is under this head, gentlemen, that I shall discuss, I hope not at undue length, the medical evidence in this cause, and present to you such observations as occur to me upon the witnesses who have been called to support the view which the Crown takes of the effect of that medical evidence.

Serjeant Shee

For this purpose let us briefly, in a sentence or two, run over the facts. Cook died on Wednesday morning, the 21st of November, at one o’clock, in violent convulsions; he died in the presence of Mr. Jones. It was no sooner light than Jones posted up to town to see Cook’s stepfather and executor, Mr. Stevens, who came down, and was introduced to Palmer. Palmer took him up to the corpse, and uncovered the corpse to the thighs—brave man he must have been, if he was a murderer, to do that—uncovered the corpse to the thighs before him. Stevens observed the body, and wondered he could have died, he looked so calm, so composed, so well, so little emaciated; he observed, indeed, some slight rigidity about the muscles. I refer to his deposition. I am not sure whether Stevens’ deposition was read—but it is evidence supplied to us. He took his hand, and wondered that he should have died; his suspicions were immediately aroused. He dined that day at Rugeley, and asked Palmer to dinner with him, and questioned him about the betting-book; got angry that it was not produced, dissembled with Palmer, cross-examined him, went up to town, met him afterwards at the station at Euston Square, afterwards at Rugby, afterwards at Wolverton, again at Rugeley, and at last threw off the mask, and, addressing him in a tone to which I shall call your attention presently, gave Palmer clearly to understand that he suspected him, and intended to probe the whole matter to the very core. He resolved upon a post-mortem examination, and a post-mortem examination took place. The appearances which were presented at the death of Cook were such as might have been expected by those who had been acquainted with his course of life and his general health, his pursuits—it is a pity to say anything hard of him—his vices—I will not say more than this—his vices, and the company, the drinking, idle, racing company which he kept. His father had died at the age of thirty, his mother about the same age, a year or two after she had married Mr. Stevens; his brother was delicate, his sister was delicate; he was believed by his physicians to have something of a pulmonary complaint, and, when his body was opened, his lungs were found to be emphysematous, that is, their air vessels were distended with air. On further inquiry, for I take both the examinations together, it was found that for a length of time he had been troubled with a very ugly sore throat—a sore throat bad enough to render it necessary that it should be constantly touched with caustic, as well as his tongue; he would not have been able to swallow without it. The tonsils of his throat were at the very time he left for Shrewsbury races, though much better than they had been, sore and inflamed—one of them was very nearly gone, the other was very much reduced in size; and he knew so much better about himself and the cause of it all probably than his medical adviser, that he very much preferred mercury to any other specific for his complaint. He had, besides that, traces about his person which have been so often referred to, the result of disease, that they need not be more particularly mentioned than they have been already, as to the extent of which and the character of which some little doubt exists; but they did not come by an ordinary and chaste mode of life, you may depend upon it; and altogether, as far as it went, he seems to have been about as loose a young man as one is in the habit of meeting, without being utterly lost to all sense of honour and propriety, which I do not mean to suggest that he was.

Serjeant Shee

His body was opened; the soreness of his tongue was manifest; I rather collect that it was not actually sore at the time of his death—yet that there were what they call follicles, and symptoms, if not recent, at least not very ancient, of actual ulcers; the inside of his mouth, too, had been ulcerated, or the skin taken off by some sort of soreness attributed to decayed teeth. We all of us probably have decayed teeth; but that does not happen to us which happened to him—it was sore on both sides. The sores about his mouth he thought himself were syphilitic, and could not be persuaded by the very respectable gentleman, Dr. Savage, to attend readily to his advice. He thought he was not weak enough, I think he said fool enough, to take quack medicines; but weak enough to take the advice of any medical quack who had assurance enough to give advice to him, believing that the best thing for his complaint was mercury; and he was apprehensive, I believe, that what are the worst symptoms of that disease for which mercury is given, namely, spots upon the body, would make their appearance, and that possibly (I believe such things do happen) some day or other he would find on the morning of a race his face covered with large copper-coloured blotches, which would plainly show what life he had been leading. That was the sort of man he was. Many such a man has reformed and become a good and respectable member of society. I should be sorry to say anything unduly harsh upon a man who is gone; but the state of his health is a material subject for our inquiry here. It is plain that he had in his own opinion been affected by virulent syphilis, and that that had not corrected his habits, for he had become recently diseased. The medical men who attended him before concurred in this opinion; and when his body was opened, in addition to all those plainer symptoms of illness to the eye, on the second post-mortem examination, there was between the delicate membrane which covers the spinal marrow, and which is called the arachnoid, I believe—I think I am right—there was pressing upon the arachnoid, and embedded to some extent in the next covering, not so delicate, though still delicate, called the dura mater, granules, as given in evidence, of such an extent as I will satisfy you by men competent to inform you would, if his body had been opened in the dead-house of any hospital in this metropolis, have been said and determined to be the cause of his death.

Such was the condition of Cook, only partially discovered on the post-mortem examination which took place at the desire of the executor, Mr. Stevens. That examination was not conducted with that entirety, so to speak—with that thorough determination to investigate the whole matter—that afterwards was thought to be necessary.

Serjeant Shee

Dr. Taylor attends the coroner’s inquest, which is held in consequence, I presume, of his letter. I do not know whether that is so or not, but in consequence of suspicions entertained, and probably in consequence of the letter which he sent in answer to Mr. Stevens’ inquiries, and he hears the evidence of Jones, and of Mills, and of Roberts, and of others; but I call your attention to the evidence of those three witnesses, because I think, in fairness to Dr. Taylor, it must be presumed that they principally influenced his opinion. Now, then, I say that upon the loose evidence of chambermaids, and waitresses, and housekeepers, against the opinion of the medical man who attended Cook in his last illness, or, at any rate, with no encouragement, as I will satisfy you presently (for there is an observation to be made upon that)—with no encouragement from the medical man, Mr. Jones, the surgeon at Lutterworth, who was of an age and character, having seen the whole illness, to form an opinion upon the matter—Dr. Taylor, having heard the evidence of Elizabeth Mills, and the evidence of Mr. Jones, and of Roberts, came at once boldly to the conclusion that his notion that antimony was the cause of death was a mistake; and he had the incredible imprudence—an imprudence which has led to all this dreadful excitement—an imprudence which has rendered it necessary that this inquiry should take place in this form and in this place, if at all—to state upon his oath before that jury that he believed that the pills which were administered to Cook on the Monday and Tuesday night contained strychnia, and that Cook was poisoned by it.

Serjeant Shee

Allow me for a moment to ask your attention to what the real character of that opinion was. That opinion as delivered was irrevocable. By it Taylor’s reputation was staked against Palmer’s life. Instantly followed by the verdict of wilful murder it flew upon the wings of the Press into every house in the United Kingdom. It became known that, according to the opinion of a man whose whole life had been devoted to science, a gentleman of personal character perfectly unimpeachable, a man who stood well with his friends in the medical profession—that on his opinion, not conjectural, not delivered, as an opinion of the kind might properly be delivered, in a private room, to persons on whose discretion reliance was placed, but delivered upon oath in a public room, in the public inn of a little village where everything that took place was known—and he must have known, I cannot but think, that suspicions had been, as I say, and as I think you will be satisfied unduly, excited about the death of Walter Palmer—that, according to his opinion, Cook’s death had been caused by strychnia. “In fact,” said Dr. Taylor, “though I find no trace of strychnia, and though there is nothing to induce me to believe that there is strychnia in the body, except the suggestion that on the Tuesday Palmer bought it off Roberts” (which would not account in any way, supposing the mere purchase of strychnia could account for anything, for the paroxysm on Monday night), “yet, having heard that evidence, knowing that I have failed to discover the presence of strychnia, I will undertake upon my oath to say, and on my credit publish to the whole world, that the pills which were given to him on Monday and Tuesday night contained strychnia, and that he died from that poison.” Observe what it amounts to. It ascertains, not upon scientific, or well-informed, or consistent testimony, but upon testimony ill-informed, of the humblest class, the least fitted to detail accurately the symptoms of such a disease as it is imputed to be, on evidence not consistent with itself, as respects the evidence of Elizabeth Mills in all particulars, or with the evidence of a much better informed person, Mr. Jones, or with the opinion of Mr. Jones—it ascertains, and pronounces positively, that the disease of which Cook died was not simply convulsions of a tetanic form, however violent—not convulsions with many features of tetanus, but that it was actual tetanus, and that description of it which could only be caused by one poison, and that poison strychnia. That is the evidence—he lays that down as a proposition on which he is perfectly satisfied to rest, and on that the verdict goes.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, let me ask you in what position we are placed for the safety of our lives and families if, upon such evidence as this, upon suspicions so excited and so sanctioned by hasty opinions of medical men, we are liable every time a sudden death takes place in a family to be put upon our trials on suspicion of foul play to those with whom we live? In the cases which are usually discussed in this Court, witnesses are called to give evidence respecting processes and means of arriving at truth with a knowledge of the facts in question, with the operation of which processes the prosecuting counsel, the judge, and the jurors are as well acquainted as the witnesses themselves. The witnesses come to speak to facts, a great portion of which are within the ordinary knowledge and appreciation of mankind; but if science is admitted to dogmatise in our Courts—science not exact in its nature—science not successful, but baffled even by its own tests—science bearing upon its forehead the motto that “a little learning is a dangerous thing”—if that is to be introduced to state processes of arriving at truth, conclusive to its satisfaction, but which we cannot follow, and opinions respecting the cause of death which those processes have not discovered, judges and jurors will have an amount of responsibility thrown upon them too great for human nature to bear. This gentleman, Dr. Taylor, if he had found the poison by his own tests, after long experience of their efficacy, would have been a very good witness to have proved unquestionably that strychnia was there; but not having found it, not having seen the patient, and knowing nothing about him but what Elizabeth Mills told him, and what he heard from Mr. Jones, who did not agree with him, or who gave no evidence agreeing with him—with no better means of information than that he thinks himself justified, upon his oath in a public Court, to say that the pills administered by the medical man (of course, he did not mean to impute any misconduct to Mr. Bamford) contained strychnia, that murder was committed, and Cook poisoned by it. If he is allowed to say that, what family and what medical practitioner is safe? Gentlemen, I beg to ask you on what ground does he say that? Not on any peculiar knowledge, for he has not any knowledge as to the effects of strychnia more than any of us—myself, if you please; for when we come thoroughly to look into it he does not appear, of his own knowledge, to have seen a single case of strychnia in the human subject; and yet he has been daring enough, knowing that the consequences would be disastrous to this man—knowing perfectly well that all the world, or, at all events, the great majority of the world, would take for granted that a medical man in his position would not give a hasty opinion—he has the incredible courage to declare, on his oath, that the pills that were given, as far as he knew, by Dr. Bamford, contained strychnia, and that Cook was poisoned by them!

Serjeant Shee

I have said “a little learning is a dangerous thing,” and it appears to me that there never was a case in which the adage was so applicable as it is in this. Of all the works of God, the one best calculated to fill us with wonder and admiration, and convince us of our dependence on our Maker, and the utter nothingness of ourselves, is the mortal coil in which we live, and breathe, and think, and have our being. Every minute of our lives functions are performed at our will, the unerring accuracy of which nothing but Omniscience and Omnipotence could have secured. We feel and see exactly what takes place, and yet the moment we attempt to explain what takes place, the instant we endeavour to give a reason for what we know, and see, and do, the mystery of creation—“God created man to His own image; to the image of God created He him”—arrests our course, and we are flung back upon conjecture and doubt. We know in a sense—we suppose—that the soft medullary substance which is within the cavity of the head is the seat of thought, of sensation, and of will. We know that that soft medullary substance is continued down the middle of the back, protected by a bony duct or canal, within which bony duct or canal it lies embedded; and we know that from the sides of this bony duct and from this medullary substance proceed an infinite variety of nerves, the conduits of sensation from all parts of the body to the soul, and of muscles connected and dependent on them, the instruments of voluntary motion. This we know, and we know that by that process all the ordinary actions of our lives, at our own will, are effected with the most wonderful precision. Sometimes, however, these nerves and muscles depart from their normal character, and, instead of being the mere instruments of the will of the soul, become irregular, convulsive, tumultuary, vindicating to themselves a sort of independent vitality, totally regardless of the authority to which they are ordinarily subject. When thrown into this state of irritation and excitement their effects are known by the general name of convulsions. It is remarkable, unlike most other fine names, they are not a modern adaptation. The ancients had them to express the very same thing; the spasmodic and tetanic affections were known then, and as much about them hundreds and thousands of years ago as is known now. Tetanic convulsions have in later times been divided into two specific branches of tetanus—idiopathic and traumatic. We have heard a great deal of these two descriptions of tetanus. One question my lord asked, which was answered by Dr. Todd—it would have been more satisfactory if my lord had asked what the meaning of the English of “idiopathic,” viz., self-generating, was; the answer given to the question, What does idiopathic mean? was “constitutional.” True, but that means nothing, or, if anything, it means “unaccountable.”

Lord Campbell—Without external injury.

Mr. Serjeant Shee—Just so, my lord; without external injury, but attributable to no known cause, unless in some few instances, perhaps, where there is some injury in the interior of the body; but the meaning of the word “idiopathic” is unquestionably what I have stated; not that it follows they never can be traced to a cause, but that they constantly occur in which the cause may be attributed to one thing or to another, and in that case we say that it is idiopathic tetanus, because we cannot with certainty say it is traumatic, that is, arising from any external injury.

Serjeant Shee

Now, gentlemen, we have had a great deal of evidence produced by my friends directed to show—assuming that the disease of which Mr. Cook died was tetanus—that it must have been strychnia tetanus. It is a mere assumption they begin with—the merest assumption in the world. I will give you my reasons for saying so, and I think I am justified in so saying. That the deceased died in convulsions is beyond all question, or immediately after convulsions; that they were convulsions that had occurred exactly or about the same hours on the previous night, and something like those which had occurred on the night preceding, something which he described as madness for two minutes, is beyond all doubt. What pretence is there for saying they were tetanus at all? Mr. Jones was examined, and I will read to you presently what the evidence he gave was. Mr. Jones, in the copy of the depositions delivered to me, stated that Mr. Cook died of convulsions, and in the copy of the depositions, which he signed and read over and corrected, there was not a word of tetanus. My learned friend interposed, and said, on looking to the original depositions, it did appear that he had mentioned it, and he said so because in the course of his examination he found a half-written word, “tetinus”—he availed himself of it, not unfairly, to suggest, that though he did not positively say it was tetanus, yet that what he observed was something which put him in mind of tetanus. It bore some of the characteristics of a tetanic convulsion; but, gentlemen, it may do so, and yet not be tetanus; and I submit to you that it is bad reasoning, and I will prove it presently. I put a question to the witness on the subject. It is bad reasoning to say without positive proof of the fact that it was tetanus, and it cannot be traumatic tetanus, because it did not appear it had presented the distinct features of traumatic tetanus, and therefore it must be tetanus by strychnia. That is the argument. They assume it cannot be traumatic tetanus, they have not discovered the poison, but still they say it must be tetanus by poison!

Serjeant Shee

Let us see whether there is any pretence for saying anything of the kind. My learned friends may tell me, if you venture to impeach the authority of a man like Dr. Taylor, who, though he had no knowledge on the subject, undoubtedly is a gentleman of great leading in his profession, and a gentleman who has written a book, which I will not treat as a book not worthy of being attended to because I think it right on this evidence to attack a particular part of it—if you choose to say his opinion is not to be depended upon, it is incumbent on you to suggest some other theory of the cause of Cook’s death which will explain the evidence given, and prove not merely negatively it is not what we say it was, but prove affirmatively it is something else. I say I am not called on to do any such thing. The Crown is the party, or rather those out of whose hands this case has been taken by the Crown, who have thought proper to impute the death of this gentleman to the poison of strychnia; they have followed the trail which has been dragged before them by these toxicologists; and, relying on their judgment and discretion, they have made quite sure they will be enabled to establish the fact that it was not either by traumatic or idiopathic tetanus, but by tetanus of strychnia, that he had died. I say I am not bound to suggest any theory upon the subject. It cannot be expected that in the defence I should do so; and, in point of logic, it is not reasonable, when we contradict the fact which it is for them to prove, that our denial of that fact and our reasons should be weakened because we cannot conclusively fix the cause of death, or explain the cause of death in any other way. If we can satisfy you that into any one of the numerous varieties of convulsions this gentleman might have fallen, and might have been either asphyxiated, or by some sudden spasm deprived of life in a way different from asphyxia—it is quite enough for us to prove the probability of that, unless they show conclusively that the circumstances and symptoms which attended his death are irreconcilable with any other theory than that of strychnia poison. Let us see what the symptoms were. I will take the liberty of reading them in the first instance from the depositions, because it is only fair to a person whose judgment I dispute that you should have placed clearly before you the evidence on which they rely.

The Court here adjourned for a short time.

Gentlemen, I have observed in the course of this inquiry, whenever there has been a question of what a witness has said on a previous occasion before a coroner, my lord has thought it right to have the whole of the document read. Now, I propose to read—unless I am corrected by my lord, when, of course, I shall immediately submit—I propose to read, for the purpose of my present inquiry, only that part of the deposition which describes the symptoms.

Lord Campbell—You may read any part of them, completing the sense of the part which you read.

Mr. Serjeant Shee—I am much obliged to your lordship; and my object in so doing is this, I will read all the deposition of Mr. Jones, though in truth, in my view of the case, the deposition of Mr. Jones is not so favourable to my case as his evidence in open Court. If there be a difference, the evidence in open Court is more favourable than the deposition; but substantially they are the same. What I propose to do now is to call your attention to the statements of Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones before the coroner of the symptoms they observed in Cook on the Monday and Tuesday nights; and having done so, without accepting any challenge which may be made by my friend to account for the symptoms, I will submit to your judgment, on authority which cannot deceive you, whether those symptoms are not more probably accounted for by the convulsions which are not tetanic at all, and certainly not tetanic in its distinct character of strychnia tetanus, but to be classed under those general convulsions by which it constantly pleases Providence to strike man down without leaving a trace of their course in his system.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, what I have to submit to you is this, that the symptoms described in the depositions of Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones were such as to make it quite unjustifiable to resort to the hypothesis of tetanus of any kind, much less of strychnia tetanus. You will recollect—I will not repeat it—the peculiarity of the constitution of this young man, and the evidence of occasional functional derangement, not particularly at that time, which involve grave consequences, to which I have already called your attention. I submit to you, on the authorities on matters of this kind, it is much more probable that Cook died in general convulsions, not tetanic at all, than that he died from idiopathic, traumatic, or strychnia tetanus.

Serjeant Shee

I have mentioned all that I intend to say about his bodily infirmities—let us now see what has been the state of his mind. He went to the Shrewsbury races in imminent peril of leaving them a ruined man. Mr. Stevens told Palmer, and we have heard nothing to the contrary, that if anybody had claims upon him, there would not be four thousand shillings to meet them. We know, from the necessity under which he was to raise sums of money at exorbitant interest, that he must have been in circumstances of the utmost embarrassment—that it was impossible, morally speaking, unless some wonderful success on the turf restored his fortunes, that he could stand his ground at all; and it is in this state of mind, and with health, at all events, not strong, and a constitution exceedingly delicate, that he had been for a length of time cherishing the hope that “Polestar,” which was hardly his, for it was mortgaged, and which must become another person’s if it did not win at Shrewsbury—in all reasonable probability he had been cherishing the hope that “Polestar” would win, and that he by that winning would possess himself at once of the stakes, which my learned friend stated, and I think it was proved, amounted to nearly £400, besides some considerable winnings to the amount of £600 or £700 by bets on the mare—upwards of £1000 altogether. That has been mentioned several times. Fancy the condition in which that young man rose from his bed on the Tuesday morning. He must have known and felt when he went down to breakfast, “This night I am either a beggar, or a man with hopes of recovering myself, and with the means, at least for the time, of keeping up my appearance of respectability.” He goes to the races—another race takes place before his mare, “Polestar,” is brought to the goal. He waits for it in a state of feverish anxiety and expectation—the hour that intervenes appears to him everlasting. At last the horses start, and his mare wins easily—he is the winner of £1000. We may suppose that to be the sum. What effect has it upon him? Mr. Jones tells us the effect. He is unable to speak for three minutes. He is saved, not merely in purse but in honour and character—saved before his relatives and friends. He will not be a disgrace to them yet, at all events; he may retrieve his fortunes, and become an honourable and respectable man. Conceive him to be a man with right feelings—and it is not because a man falls into the ways of promiscuous licentiousness that he is devoid of all honourable feeling—conceive him to be an honourable man, a man who loved the memory of his father and his mother, who valued the respectability of his family, and who had a desire to appear before his sister, Mrs. Bradford, as an honourable man, instead of being known to her as a levanter and a blackleg, driven from all honourable society. The effect of his success is that for three minutes he cannot speak, though he is with his intimate friend Mr. Jones. He goes back to the inn, though he has to some extent recovered himself, in a state of elation, of which it is my duty to say that one man said he was not more elated than other people when they have won, but still, depend upon it, overjoyed, and with a revulsion from the despair in which he was, which must have convulsed, though not in a sense of immediate illness, every fibre of his frame. His first and his natural inclination was to entertain his friends, and he gives a champagne dinner. The evidence is that he did not drink to excess; that is the evidence—but he had champagne, and we all of us know that when there is champagne there are other things besides, and it very often happens it is not because champagne is drunk the company do not drink as much of other wines. What in ordinary parlance is called a champagne dinner is a good, luxurious entertainment, in which there is no stint and not much self-restraint. I do not mean to say he was drunk. The evidence is he rose from table not drunk, and therefore it is not for me to say, and the evidence will not justify me in saying, he was. That evening he did not spend in the company of Jones. I do not think it is very clear in whose company he spent it after the dinner was over; but we find him the next night, Wednesday, at the Unicorn, with Saunders, the trainer, Mr. Palmer, and a lady. The next morning is cold and wet. He went on the ground, and was observed by Herring standing in the wet, who remonstrated with him for so doing. He was taken ill that night, and you will hear what his symptoms were. I shall call your attention to those under the third head of what I have to address to you. He sent for a doctor, who recommended an emetic. The poor man seemed to know more about it than the doctor. He said he could do it with hot water and a toothbrush. Perhaps he had often relieved his stomach in that way. He was unwell that day, and was ailing till his death at Rugeley. That is the general history, as far as the mental excitement can be referred to—great reason to apprehend ruin when he went to Shrewsbury; immediate, sudden, yet only partial recovery from his embarrassments at Shrewsbury; and home to Rugeley to meet them again in their full intensity, all the winnings and twice the sum, unable to save him from the ruin he had brought on himself. All the property he appears to have had at the time was “Polestar” and “Syrius,” and they were mortgaged for debts due to Pratt. He may have had some few hundreds in money. It is with a weakened body and an irritated and excited mind that he is affected with a sickness at Shrewsbury, which clings to a system incapable of being recruited by the ordinary necessary food, without which the strongest man gives way, excites his nerves, and makes him in imminent danger of falling a victim to any convulsive attacks to which his constitution would be likely to be disposed. Depend upon it, the thoughts of that young man, when he retired to bed, were not the thoughts with which you lay your heads upon the pillow. He had much to think of which he regretted, much to deliberate upon which was of a nature to excite in his mind the most serious apprehensions. There was neither credit, nor honour, nor anything in his career which would make him respect himself, or respectable in the eyes of others. His rest was only imperfect at the best, and after the gratifications of the animal appetite to which people in some instances resort to alleviate the unhappy recollections of the moment, he had no resource. He desired no society so much as the society of Palmer. His residence was at the Talbot Arms, which was, in fact, a residence with Palmer. He does not appear to have had a sitting-room to himself; he does not appear to have frequented the coffee-room. He had a bedroom at the Talbot Arms, and his real home, where he often was, and would have been nearly altogether but for his illness, was Palmer’s house over the way. That was his condition at Rugeley. He is taken violently ill on Sunday night. We had nothing but his own description of it; but what is that description? He had been poorly for some time. For two nights he had been taking opium pills prescribed by Mr. Bamford. Mr. Bamford is an aged man, but there is no doubt a respectable man, and a man who would be likely, I think we might fairly infer, to consider what the complaint was and prescribe accordingly. In the middle of the night, at twelve o’clock, he was awakened from a dream in a state of affright. He says he was nearly mad; he rang the bell, but nobody would come.

Lord Campbell—He thought they would not hear him; he thought they had gone to bed.

Serjeant Shee

Mr. Serjeant Shee—Yes; that is so; I am much obliged to your lordship. He states he was mad for two minutes, and what did he ascribe it to? Nothing but sudden alarm at the noise of a quarrel in the street. Does that happen to us, gentlemen? Does it happen to those of us who live regular lives, and who are of good average constitution? Do we awaken in a state that we can describe as madness, and without any mode of accounting for the paroxysm but a quarrel in the street? It must have been a very high state of nervous excitement. It must have been something violent while it lasted—transient in its character—but something that arose from a disordered state of the stomach and an agitated and anxious mind, probably in some degree weakened by the medicine he was taking, the calomel and the morphia.

The next day, the Monday, he was well the whole day; not well in the sense of being strong and able to take a walk in the fields, or mount his horse and gallop about the country, but well in the sense of being able to get up, after trying to breakfast in bed, to talk of sending for the barber, and, I believe, actually sending for him; of seeing his trainer and his jockeys, and discussing his plans for his next campaign—well to that extent, but not out of his bedroom, taking no substantial food, not vomiting much that day, though a little I think in the morning, which is ascribed by the theory of the Crown, or by those whose case the Crown has been forced by public opinion or by public excitement to take up, to Palmer’s absence all that day. We do not hear that Cook took anything solid. We do not hear that he lunched at one o’clock, and then, as most probably he was in the habit of doing, took his beefsteak and his leg of mutton, or his chicken, at five or six o’clock. He had no insuperable dislike to brandy and water; he could, on occasion, take his glass or two, though Palmer was not there; but he does not appear to have been in the condition, ill as he was, to have any gratification in food or drink of any kind; and Palmer was in London all the time. Then, in the middle of the night, at twelve o’clock, he was seized with a paroxysm, which Elizabeth Mills describes. We will take her description. That is the account of Cook’s illness on Monday night. It might have been a much less serious fit than the one on the Sunday night. Nothing took place which could justify any man in saying that he was mad for a minute—nothing of the kind. But let us be fair. Afterwards, in talking of it, he says, speaking to Elizabeth Mills, “Did you ever see anybody in such agony as I was last night?” We have the description of Elizabeth Mills, and his own statement afterwards; “I saw him again about seven o’clock, and he asked me whether I ever saw anybody in such agony as he was the previous night.” Not to tie the young woman down to a word, the fair inference of the whole of that statement is that for some time during the whole of that paroxysm he was in pain, and in great pain, but that he never lost his senses. He could not very well be in such a state as that which he described on the Sunday night. Now, let us have the statement of Mr. Jones, who is, we must take it, a perfectly competent man, and whose evidence must be attended to. Mr. Jones was requested to go there by Palmer, Palmer having written to him on the Sunday. He was not able to go then, being himself indisposed, and he could not get there till Tuesday. He went there on the Tuesday, and got there by three o’clock, and he was for some time with Cook alone.

Serjeant Shee

Now, just observe the consequence of that, looking at the circumstances of this case. Mr. Jones was the most intimate friend, as far as we can judge, that Cook had. Probably he was. He had a great regard for Mr. Stevens, who had been the husband of Cook’s mother, but he was not so intimate with Mr. Stevens. Mr. Stevens was probably a gentleman who did not approve—in fact, he frankly told us he disapproved—of the course Cook was pursuing. Probably he was more austere to him during life than we should imagine from the way he speaks of him after death. His best friend seems to have been Mr. Jones. No doubt Mr. Jones, though he was a respectable man, did not take on himself to rebuke or reprove Cook for what he might think it not correct to do. He lived in his house at Lutterworth, and appears to have been on such good terms with Cook that Palmer knew it would not be disagreeable to Cook if Mr. Jones would come and stay and sleep in the same bedroom, and so long as he required the attendance of a friend; and, as far as we can understand, Mr. Jones has Cook to himself from three to seven o’clock. He has him to himself for some considerable time. You know part of the suggestion in this case for the Crown is that Cook thought that Palmer had played false with him at Shrewsbury; part of the suggestion in this case is that Cook thought at Shrewsbury Palmer laid a plan for circumventing him, and of getting his money. Mr. Jones had the opportunity, during the afternoon, if Cook had wished it, of being the recipient of the whole confidence of Cook; Cook might have said to Mr. Jones, “I am glad you have come; I have been acting the fool with Palmer; I suspect him; I think he means to get my money.”

The Attorney-General—You must not say that. You would not let me ask him any questions about it.

Mr. Serjeant Shee—I do not say that it did pass. I use it in this way, it might have passed, and that it did not is clear, because Mr. Jones entertained no suspicion of the kind; he having been with Cook during the whole of the evening shows that it did not pass, and that nothing occurred in the entire and unbounded confidence which may be supposed to have existed between Cook and Mr. Jones to raise a suspicion in the mind of Mr. Jones; and so much was that the case that, at the consultation which took place between seven and eight o’clock on Tuesday evening, between Mr. Jones and Palmer and Mr. Bamford, as to what the medicine ought to be, the fit of the Monday night was never mentioned; it was not alluded to at all.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, that is a very remarkable fact; it is remarkable in two ways; the Crown might say it is remarkable in this sense, that Palmer knew it, and said not a word about it. But it seems it was a matter, in the opinion of Cook, so little serious, that he never said a word of it to Mr. Jones, because, if Cook had thought that those words which he used to Elizabeth Mills were not an exaggerated description of what had occurred, do you not think, when Mr. Jones came to see him, and felt his pulse, and inquired what his symptoms were, that Cook would have said (he being in full possession of his senses), “You cannot judge now from my appearance how I am—I was in a state of madness last night—I was in the greatest possible agony—I do not know what it was—I was attacked in the middle of the night in such a way that I thought I was going to die”? As he had Mr. Jones with him, would he not have mentioned that in the conversation? My inference from that is, that in all probability this first statement of Elizabeth Mills was the correct statement of what occurred; and if we find it is consistent with what Mr. Jones says as to what occurred the next night in its general character, it would be very nearly the same on both nights. We may reasonably infer that anything in excess of that, on which the medical evidence was given, has been the result of imagination, and not so strictly consistent with the truth as the original statement. Let us see what Mr. Jones says. (The learned Serjeant read a portion of the deposition of Mr. Jones before the coroner.) Observe the significance of that. Palmer, in the presence of Mr. Jones, brings up two pills, which it is supposed were the pills that poisoned him—pills containing a substance which sometimes does its work in a quarter of an hour, which has done it in less, but never hardly exceeds half an hour; and so we are to be asked to believe that Palmer, Jones being present, and Cook in his presence objecting to take the pills, positively forced them down his throat, at the imminent peril of his falling down, like the rabbit, in two or three minutes afterwards in convulsions evidently and manifestly tetanic. He states what did take place. (The learned Serjeant read a further portion of Mr. Jones’ deposition.) But, as I am reminded by one of my lords, that in the course of the examination of Mr. Jones the word “tetanus” is used, it is right I should say a word on that, lest I should forget it. The word “tetanus” is not in the deposition, and it is very remarkable that the suggestion which has been put forward by the Crown was the suggestion of Dr. Taylor. I do not think it is impossible that Mr. Jones, when he gave that evidence, had in his mind’s eye what he had seen that night and not seen very correctly. He had not light enough to see the patient’s face. There was only one candle, and he could not tell whether there was any change in his countenance on the Tuesday—a very important symptom. They say it cannot have been tetanic, because there is a peculiar expression in the face—a fact which nobody observed. It was too dark, in this case of Cook’s, to take notice. Mr. Jones gave his evidence, and he is a competent professional man, and it is quite clear that the notion of tetanus, tetanic, tetaniform, or something like tetanus, must have entered into his mind, because the clerk has put down “tetinus”; he probably had not heard of the word before, and the probability is something like it was used. He said he did use it, and afterwards it was struck out, and Mr. Jones corrected his deposition, read it all over, and signed it, and left it with the word struck out. There are strong symptoms of “compression,” that is, one word struck out; then afterwards there is the word “tetinus,” and then those two words are struck out, with Mr. Jones’ entire approbation, because otherwise he would have corrected it when he signed it; and he said he read it over, and the words “violent convulsions” were substituted. What is the fair inference from that?—that the man who saw Cook in the paroxysm did not think himself justified in saying it was tetanus. It might be very like; it might have a tetaniform appearance; but it was not tetanus.

Gentlemen, I will call your attention to the features of general convulsions. I cross-examined several of the medical witnesses for the purpose of inducing what I consider to be a true belief as to this case, that the convulsions in which Cook died were not tetanus or tetanic properly speaking; but that they were convulsions of that strong and violent character which are tetaniform, though not classed under idiopathic or traumatic tetanus, but under the head of general convulsions.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, I now propose to read a description of general convulsions from the work of Dr. Copland. I called the attention of the very learned gentlemen who were examined for the Crown to what was laid down in that work, which is admitted to be one of authority, and I cannot conceive how you, to whom this matter of fact is to be submitted, can form an opinion whether or not my theory, or rather my belief, that he died by the visitation of God, in violent general convulsions, be a probable one, unless you hear from what was not written for the purposes of this case what the features of general convulsions are; so, if you please, I will read to you what I have myself copied from the work of Dr. Copland. This, I may say, as I am upon the point, that the only persons in the profession who can be supposed to have any competent or reliable information on the subject of tetanus, not traumatic, are physicians; and not one physician—properly so speaking—not one of that most honourable body of men who see the sudden attacks of patients in their beds, and not in hospitals, has been called to speak to this. Dr. Todd was called, and Dr. Todd gave his evidence in a way to command the respect of everybody; but Dr. Todd is a gentleman whose practice does not appear to have been so much that of a physician as that of a surgeon; he is physician to the King’s College Hospital, and has held that office about twenty years; he has lectured on diseases of the nervous system and tetanus, but he does not appear to have been a physician in general practice.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, I am instructed—I shall be able to show—by eminent men that what I am about to read from Dr. Copland’s book, as part of my speech, is a true description of convulsions that are not idiopathic or traumatic, but of a general kind. He first gives the definition of “general convulsions,” which he says are “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 distinct paroxysms, and after irregular and uncertain intervals.” We will see what he says about it—“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 by abnormal action of involuntary muscles, we shall have every grade, passing imperceptibly from the most acute form of tetanus through cramp, epilepsy, eclompsia, convulsions, &c., down to the most atonic states of chorea and tremor. Also if we consider the affections called convulsions, and which are usually irregular in their forms, with reference to the character of the abnormal contraction of the muscles, we shall see it in some cases of the most violent and spastic nature, frequently of some continuance, the relaxations being of brief duration, or scarcely observable, and in others nearly or altogether approaching to tetanic. These constitute the more tonic form of convulsions, from which there is every possible grade, down to the atonic or most clonic observed in chorea or tremor. 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 the stomach or left hypochondrium, unusual flatulence of the stomach and bowels, and other dyspeptic symptoms. 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 pass into or are followed by these states. 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 (the convulsio recurrens of authors). 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.”

Serjeant Shee

Now, do you believe that if Dr. Taylor had read that before he went to the inquest he would have dared to say that this man died of strychnia poison? Is there one single symptom in the statement made in the depositions of Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones which may not be classed under one of the varieties of the degrees of convulsions which Dr. Copland describes? Now, 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, not mere surgeons of hospitals who never see anything hardly except it is of that nature, that is, of the traumatic kind—gentlemen, do not suppose that I should be capable of speaking disrespectfully of Sir Benjamin Brodie, or of any of the gentlemen called except in terms of the highest respect; but they are surgeons of hospitals, and obtain a certain experience as to those misfortunes under which, through violence, the human frame suffers; who have not so much opportunity of witnessing and of knowing the symptoms of the class of convulsions which constantly attack people in their own residences in the dead of the night—those convulsions which heads of families and brothers and sisters are most anxious to conceal from anybody but the medical man—those convulsions, the known existence of which deprives a young woman of the hope, or a young man of the hope, of marriage. It is the men who have that sort of experience—the general practitioners—men who enjoy the entire confidence of numerous families, and have the opportunity of visiting, in the way of their profession, the poor at their lowly dwellings, suffering under sudden convulsions when affected by serious disease—those are the men that we want to tell us about convulsions. Do not let me mislead you for a moment—the evidence I have read to you is not the whole of the evidence of Elizabeth Mills. There is her evidence, differing in some material particulars from the evidence given by her before the coroner. As to Mr. Jones, the evidence does not so much differ, though there may be some particulars in which there is a difference—and there is one remarkable one. He said in his depositions, “The body was resting on its head and its heels”; but in his evidence he says, “It was so bent that if it had been turned on its back, it would, or might, have rested on its head and its heels”—that is, if it did not rest on the back; but he in substance says it did. Mr. Bamford says he found it resting on its head, its back, and its heels, thereby excluding the supposition that a part of the body was not supported by the back. However, before I go to that, perhaps you will permit me to call your attention to the symptoms of traumatic disease. My belief is, and I submit it to you, and it is what I shall hope you will confirm by your verdict, that this complaint was not strychnia tetanus at all, but it was, according to this description—the description to which I will call your attention—it may well have been some form of traumatic tetanus or idiopathic tetanus—there being no broad general distinction or certain confine between idiopathic or self-generating tetanus, or tetanus not arising from any extreme hurt or any violence to the interior part of the system; and many forms of convulsions, that is tetaniform, are pretty much the same as idiopathic tetanus, and we have had numbers of medical gentlemen who have told us they never saw a case of idiopathic tetanus. The answer to that is, you have had very limited experience. They are not very frequent; but there are gentlemen here who have seen cases of idiopathic tetanus, and they are not of such unfrequent occurrence by any means. There is one gentleman who is here, and whom I will call before you—a gentleman who attended at the bedside of the lady at Leeds who was suffering under strychnia, who has himself seen four cases of idiopathic tetanus; and there are other gentlemen here who have seen them also—they are not so rare, but they very rarely fall under the notice of surgeons of hospitals; they are not so frequent as traumatic tetanus. Cases of traumatic tetanus do frequently supervene from the operations of the surgeons themselves; sometimes after operations, however skilfully performed, a lockjaw is the consequence. The persons to give you information on the subject are the general practitioners.

Serjeant Shee

Now, we shall see that none of those symptoms which were spoken to on the day of the inquest by Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones may not range under one of these forms of tetanus, the idiopathic or traumatic. The idiopathic mingling in all directions with general violent convulsions is not to be distinguished from them, inasmuch as convulsions have constant tetaniform appearances; and the meaning I take it of that is this, it is true, as Dr. Watson says in a passage which I called to the attention of one of their witnesses—it is true that in four cases out of five traumatic tetanus begins with a seizure of the lower jaw, unless, as Sir Benjamin Brodie tells us, it may begin, as it did in two cases which he attended many years ago, in the limbs. He told us so when he was here; it began there before it attacked the jaw; but generally trismus or lockjaw is the first symptom. But there is a fifth case in which it is not, and Mr. Curling told us that that was about the proportion—four out of five; so that even traumatic, or that kind of tetanus which sets in after a wound, does not always begin with some affection of the jaw or neck. Now, gentlemen, having gone so far, and having endeavoured to satisfy you that the symptoms which were spoken to by those two witnesses on the depositions may be the symptoms, as I think—that is to say, as I am told, having no experience of my own in the matter—that these symptoms are rather referable to that violent description of general convulsions than to any form of tetanus, let us go to the question, whether or not the symptoms are consistent with what we know of tetanus produced by strychnia, because if we are satisfied on a full inquiry that they are not consistent with the symptoms unquestionably produced by strychnia tetanus, then the hypothesis of the Crown entirely fails, and John Parsons Cook cannot have died of strychnia poison.

Now, gentlemen, whether that be so or not will depend in a great degree, as it strikes me—but, of course, it is entirely for you—on what you think of the evidence of Elizabeth Mills; but before I go to the evidence of Elizabeth Mills I will call your attention to what the description of strychnia tetanus is, as given us by two very eminent gentlemen who were called the other day for the Crown—Dr. Taylor and Dr. Christison; and if we find on looking at it that that description of the poison of strychnia tetanus, given by them, is a different thing from the picture first given of the complaint, of the paroxysms of John Parsons Cook by Elizabeth Mills and Mr. Jones, I think it would be rather too bad on their mere opinion to say that this is strychnia tetanus. Let us take Dr. Taylor’s description of strychnia tetanus—I am not sure whether Dr. Taylor stated he had ever seen strychnia tetanus in the human subject; however, we must be just to Dr. Taylor. Dr. Taylor has had an extensive reading upon the subjects upon which he writes, and it is not to be supposed that Dr. Taylor would hastily set down in his book what he did not find established on high authority; therefore, though having it at second hand, Dr. Taylor knows something upon the subject.

Serjeant Shee

Now, Dr. Taylor, in his work on strychnia poison, has this under the head of strychnia, “that 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 becomes rigid, the limbs stretched out, and the jaws so fixed that considerable difficulty is experienced in introducing anything into the mouth.” On both the depositions and the other evidence it is stated that Mr. Cook was sitting up in bed, beating the bed-clothes, frequently telling the people about him to go for Palmer, asking for the remedy, and willing to take whatever was given him; there was no considerable difficulty in introducing anything into the mouth, and the paroxysms, 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.” That there were some of these symptoms in this case there can be no doubt, and there will be some of them in every case of violent convulsions, yet it is not the description of such a case as that of John Parsons Cook. Now, let us see what Dr. Christison says—“The symptoms produced by strychnia are very uncommon and striking—the animal begins to tremble, and is seized with stiffness and starting of the limbs. Those symptoms increase till at length the animal is attacked by general spasms.” Is that the description of either of these paroxysms? Who can say with any degree of truth that it is? Just observe these last indications of strychnia tetanus, which are consistent with all the cases stated in their books. It is only justice to those gentlemen who have taken pains to look to the authorities to which they refer to say that the statements which they give of their cases are in the main correct, but not in all their details. The books would be five times their size if they were; but they are in the main correct, when we look to the foreign authorities on which they are founded—“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.” I know exactly what Dr. Christison means by this, because there is a gentleman here who will state an experiment which I saw myself; it was an experiment, and for the purpose of this case, and to assist me; and I disagree with Dr. Taylor that there can be a moment’s hesitation in sacrificing ten or twenty dogs for the purpose of ascertaining the truth of this theory when a man’s life is involved. These experiments were performed by Dr. Letheby while I was there. I will state them to you, because he will prove it by and by. A dog had some strychnia put in his mouth, one grain, and then for about—I cannot be sure as to the time exactly, but about twenty or twenty-five minutes—I cannot be sure, it might not be so much—the dog was perfectly well. There were two rabbits on the table which were also about to be subjected to the operation, and the dog, when the chain was sufficiently relaxed to enable him to do so, showed all the indications which a dog naturally does to get at the rabbits; he was pulling at his chain, and was smelling and pawing and taking an interest in the rabbits; suddenly it fell down on its side, and its legs were stretched out in a most violent way. It panted, and then it remained for some time—two or three minutes—quiet, occasionally a little jerking, but generally quiet. It recovered again for a time, got up and looked at the rabbits, but was dizzy, seemed afraid to move; and, if you touched it, shuddered and twitched, to use Miss Elizabeth Mills’ description; seemed to be afraid, and after another moment down it went again. It got up again, and down it went again, and at last it had a tremendous struggle, and it died. That is what Dr. Christison means by this description; it would be true if the dose had been a strong one. If the dose had not been sufficient to kill the dog it would probably be a longer time—at least, I suppose so—in producing its effect, and the interval between the paroxysms, as stated by Dr. Taylor and Dr. Christison, would get longer and longer, until at last the animal would recover. If the dose is strong enough to kill, the interval between the paroxysms is shorter, till at last the violent one comes which destroys life; the eyes are fixed, and there it lies, and just before its death—and I thought it was dead, but I was told immediately before its death—just before it dies, the limbs become as supple and as free as it is possible to conceive the limbs of an animal to be; whichever way you placed them after the animal is quite dead, if you place them in any form, the rigor-mortis comes on, and they remain in the position in which you place them. Dr. Christison says they assume rigidity. I saw this operation performed, and also on the two rabbits, and their symptoms were substantially the same, and their limbs in both cases were quite as flaccid immediately on death. The animals during the time of the intervals between the paroxysms were exceedingly touchy, and seemed afraid of being touched at all; if you were to touch them they would shrink away. It was more so in the dog; it was, in fact, a sort of shudder—that is what Dr. Christison means.

Serjeant Shee

Now, gentlemen, without going through the whole of these details, I will state to you my reasons for saying, on the authorities and from my study of the books of those two gentlemen, that, according to their principles, this cannot have been strychnia poison. Now, I object to the theory of its being strychnia poison, first, on this ground, that no case can be found in the books in which the patient while the paroxysm lasted has had so much command over the muscles of animal life and voluntary motion as Mr. Cook had on the Monday and Tuesday nights. You heard that Mr. Cook was sitting up in his bed, that Mr. Cook was beating the bed-clothes, that Mr. Cook was talking and crying out for Palmer, and to have the remedy given to him; that Mr. Cook, so far from being afraid of people touching him, asked to have his neck rubbed, and it was rubbed. There is not a single instance in the books of Dr. Taylor, or in the books of Dr. Christison, or any other books of any medical man describing the symptoms of the strychnia poison, in which the well-known symptoms the malasaux took place—not one, and it is inconsistent with their description, and what I tell you will be the proof Dr. Letheby will give of the experiment that I saw, and of many others he had performed.

Serjeant Shee

I will go to the next point on the ground of which I say this is not strychnia poison. I say there is no authentic case of tetanus by strychnia in which the paroxysms were delayed so long after ingestion of the poison as in this case. I will refer, however, to their own statements, knowing that they are here. (Extract from Dr. Taylor’s book read.) There was one case to which his attention was called; it was not a fatal one, but it got better, and still he says the symptoms were those which he described, and thought it was too late to get the poison out of the stomach, as in half an hour it had got into the circulation—what can be more clear? it is a broad, distinguishing feature in the strychnia. The interval which took place between the ingestion of the poison in Mr. Cook’s case and the time when the paroxysm commenced was much too long, three times too long, to indicate the effect of poison by strychnia. It cannot be pretended it was a similar case, if the symptoms are properly described, as I will presently call your attention to them, by Elizabeth Mills in her statement in this Court. Now, gentlemen, thirdly, I submit, and I will prove, that there is no case in which recovery from a paroxysm of strychnia poison has been so rapid as in Cook’s case on Monday night, or in which a patient has enjoyed so long an interval of repose or exemption from its symptoms after they had once set in. It is a very remarkable feature, if it be true—if I am right in saying that there is no case in which recovery has been so rapid as in Mr. Cook’s case on Monday night, followed by so long an interval of relief from the paroxysm. In fact, in the case of Mr. Cook’s, on the theory of the Crown, it would not have come on again 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 the arm-chair. How easy it would have been for him then, if he had been disposed, when Elizabeth Mills had gone to bed and had retired to her room, to have called out to her that Mr. Cook was in another fit, and to have killed him, almost without suspicion on the part of anybody. Dr. Christison tells us in general terms that these convulsions are succeeded by intervals of calm, during which the senses are unnaturally and unusually acute; another fit then begins, it subsides, and is succeeded by another and another, till at length a fit takes place more violent than any before it, and the animal dies suffocated. Here, I submit to you, is a distinction between the case of Mr. Cook and that which these gentlemen state to be the distinguishing feature, in that there is no recurrence.

Now, I will come to another feature of the disease, the post-mortem symptoms of the disease. I saw three animals killed, of which I have spoken to you, and Dr. Letheby was good enough to have dug up from his garden a rabbit which had been killed by strychnia, and to open it before me, to examine the heart, and the heart was full; the heart of the dog was quite full, and the hearts of the two rabbits which I saw killed were quite full—as full as they could possibly be. I am told that the result of an enormous proportion of such examinations has been, and, if properly conducted, of all of them, that the heart is full on the right side invariably. We will prove to you that the heart of the animal which was killed by strychnia poison is invariably full, and it stands to reason it would be so.

Serjeant Shee

Now, I have discussed what may be said for this purpose to be the theory of the matter, but I have not yet met the strong point which will be made for the Crown on the evidence of Elizabeth Mills. I am, on all occasions, most reluctant to attack a witness examined on his or her oath, and particularly if she be in a humble position. I am very reluctant to impute perjury to such a person. Let me point out to you what occurs to me to be the right opinion to be formed of the evidence of Elizabeth Mills. I submit to you in this case of life and death, or in any one case involving any question of real importance to liberty or to property, that that young woman’s evidence cannot and would not be regarded in the ordinary administration of justice when on material points she has stated two different stories. A jury can really hardly believe such a witness, and in criminal cases the learned judges are, without altogether rejecting the evidence and withholding it from the jury, in the habit of pointing out to the jury the discrepancies between the statements given at different times, and saying that under all the circumstances of the case it would not be safe to rely on the testimony in the last instance, if it differ from, and probably is more strongly adverse to, the party accused than the statements made when the impression was fresh in the witness’s mind. Now, observe that since the first time that she gave her evidence she has had the means of knowing what the case of the Crown is. She has had the means of knowing—I do not mean to say she has been tutored by the Crown—it would be a gross injustice to say so; and I know if my learned friend thought that had been done he would not have called her—or by any of the gentlemen who act for the Crown; but since she was examined at Rugeley she has had the means of knowing, by interviews she has had with different people, that the case of the Crown 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 strychnia. She has learned that their case is, that there was an administration of something which did not eventually kill him, that is, antimony, but which had the effect of producing retching, and nausea, and irritation of the stomach, which is attributed, according to the hypothesis of the Crown, to the deliberate, persevering intention of the prisoner at the bar to reduce him bit by bit—making him reject everything off his stomach, so that when once the ingestion of the poison occurred he was certainly dead; that is the case. In her first evidence before the coroner she was asked whether she had tasted the broth, and she said that she had tasted the broth, and thought it very good; she did not say a single word about any ill effects that broth had produced upon her—not a single word. She has since learned it is part of the case for the Crown, or of those out of whose hands the Crown has taken this prosecution—in fact, the theory of Dr. Taylor—that all this retching and vomiting was the result of a constant dosing with antimonial poison, in order to prepare him for an utter inability to resist the fatal dose of strychnia which it was intended to give him. Accordingly, when she is examined here, fitting her evidence to the case, and probably after having been asked many times whether she had not been sick on some Sunday or another, she has persuaded herself, if she has not been persuaded—I do not wish to use the word suborned—that her sickness on some Sunday afternoon took place on the Sunday afternoon that broth was sent, and was caused by her having taken two spoonfuls of it. She did not say so in the first instance before the coroner, but that “she tasted it, and it was very good.” I ask you to consider for a moment whether it is not to the last degree improbable that a man like Palmer—a shrewd, intelligent, clever man—would expose himself to such a chance of detection as the sending of poisoned broth made at the Albion to the Talbot Arms, at the imminent risk of its finding its way to the kitchen, where, sure as fate, the cook would taste it. Can you conceive a cook not tasting broth made by another cook, and sent over as particularly good? I submit to you it was such a risk as no man in his senses could by any possibility run. A cook is, in the nature of the thing, a taster; she tastes everything; she does not know, of course, if it be her own making, whether it is good until she tastes it; she gets the habit of tasting—and as sure as Palmer sent the broth to the Talbot Arms, and any part of it reached the kitchen, so sure, if it contained antimony, would the cook be ill. Is it credible? I submit to you, it is not credible; and when you find she did not say a word about it in the first instance, and that an ample opportunity was afforded for her so to do in the way I have described, I submit you cannot rely upon her evidence here, as it differs with her evidence before the coroner. Again, she said that on the Saturday Cook had coffee for breakfast about eight o’clock. “He ate nothing but he vomited directly he had swallowed it. Up to the time I had given him the coffee I had not seen Palmer.” When she gave that evidence she was not aware it was part of the theory of the Crown that the traces of antimony (which Dr. Taylor says might have killed him) were to be made to fit into the theory of the strychnia poison—that it was a gradual preparation, by vomiting, for strychnia. That chart of the country over which she was to travel had not been laid before her. She did not then know what at the time she came here she did know—that it was part of the case for the Crown.

Serjeant Shee

The Attorney-General opened the case in that way distinctly, that that was the theory for the Crown; “that Palmer had ordered some coffee for Cook on the Saturday morning; it was brought up by the chambermaid, Elizabeth Mills, and given to Cook by Palmer, who had an opportunity of tampering with it before giving it to Cook.” That was the statement which the Attorney-General was instructed to make. There is all the difference between her first statement, that up to the time she had given the coffee to Palmer for Cook, and that Palmer had an opportunity of tampering with it. The young woman would not go so far as that, but she went to this extent—“Palmer came over at eight o’clock—ordered a cup of coffee for Cook—I gave it to Cook—I believe Palmer was in the bedroom—I put it into Mr. Cook’s hands, but I did not see him drink it—I observed afterwards the coffee had been vomited.” The statement thus made by her before you was not so strong as that of the Attorney-General, but, on the other hand, it was a great deal stronger than the statement she made before the coroner, because, according to her story then, Palmer had not an opportunity of dealing with it—she “did not see Palmer up to the time she had given him the coffee.” From the statement which she made here you might suppose that Palmer, if he had chosen, might have got the coffee from Cook—but that is in the last degree improbable—and have done what he wanted to do with it; for she says, “Palmer came over at eight o’clock and ordered a cup of coffee, and that when it was made she took the coffee up into the bedroom and gave it into Cook’s hands” (she believed Palmer was there), “but she did not see him drink it, and afterwards she observed the coffee had been vomited.” These two statements, the one before the coroner and the other before you, are essentially different, and the difference between them consists in this, that the last one supports the theory now set up on the part of the Crown, while the first one is totally inconsistent with it. Can you rely on a woman who has altered her testimony to such an extent? But that is not all; the case for the Crown is that Cook was reluctant to take the pills which were given to him, and that he expressed a reluctance which Palmer of his own head overruled, and that Palmer knew that Cook was angry with him, or, at all events, displeased with him, for forcing him to take the pills. In the first statement of Elizabeth Mills before the coroner she said Cook said it was “the pills that made him ill, and that he had taken the pills about half-past ten.” When she came here she swore that Cook said “the pills which Palmer gave him at half-past ten made him ill”; thereby, you see, fixing the fact that Palmer gave him the pills, and fixing the time at which Palmer gave them to him, she having had an opportunity of learning that the later the pills were given the more favourable it would be to the suspicion that death had been occasioned by this poison. Before the coroner she did not say that Palmer was in Cook’s bedroom between nine and ten o’clock on the Monday night, but she did when she was here. You will see that makes him more about the bedside of Cook, having more opportunity of dealing with the pills. By these variances from her first statement she shows the animus which now, for some reason or other, actuates her. Perhaps it has been the result of the persuasion that Palmer was the murderer of Mr. Cook, as Dr. Alfred Swayne Taylor swore he is, and of her horror of so great a crime; that gives it the just, charitable construction; still, I say, she is not to be relied upon. I have mentioned the particulars in which her statements vary, but these are nothing to the important particulars to which I will now call your attention. I impeach her testimony on the ground that she adopted here a manner and a gesticulation in describing the symptoms under which Cook laboured which, if true, would have exhibited itself at the inquest, and would have at once attracted the attention of Dr. Taylor. The contortions into which she put her hands, and her neck, and her mouth, before you, could not by any possibility have escaped the attention of Dr. Taylor. If anything like it took place there it would have been observed by him, and questions would have been put to reduce, so to speak, those gesticulations into verbal expressions, that they might be recorded in the depositions. But that is not all. I am told, and you will have an opportunity of hearing it from Mr. Nunneley, Dr. Letheby, Dr. Robinson, and other eminent medical men, that the description of the symptoms which she gave to you is inconsistent with any known disease—that they were grouped by her in a manner so extraordinary as to be quite inconsistent with strychnia tetanus.

Serjeant Shee

Let me call your attention to this part of the evidence. You are aware that in the months of February (the last week of February) and March a very frightful case of strychnia poisoning occurred at Leeds. It was a case in which a person, having constant access to the bedside of the patient, was supposed to have administered repeated small doses of strychnia so as not at once to strike her down, but gradually to destroy her; and that after having kept her in a state of irritation for a lengthened period, he at last consummated the work and killed her. That was the case. It appeared in all the newspapers. The nurse who attended the patient and the medical gentlemen spoke of symptoms which she exhibited from the 24th or 25th February to the 1st of March, and they described it in this way—She had “prickings” and “twitchings” in the legs, coming on without any violent paroxysms or spasms, and was alarmed at the thought even of being touched by anybody in the intervals of the spasms which occurred from time to time. Now, let me call your attention to the evidence before you of Elizabeth Mills. She says, “He said, ‘I cannot lie down’; his body and neck were moving and jerking; he would throw himself up, jumping and jerking all over his body all the time; he asked me to rub his hands; I noticed him to ‘twitch’ while I was rubbing his hands.” (The learned serjeant read a portion of the evidence.) Now, I submit to you that some of these expressions, particularly the twitching, are very remarkable; and it may well have been that, this case coming before the public and exciting no little degree of attention, although not to the same extent as this Rugeley case, persons who had been in the habit of going to see her and conversing with her may have been asking her questions about this case, of which she admitted she had heard, “Did you observe in Cook any such symptoms as these?” her attention being called to them in such a way as to induce her to alter the statement made by her at the inquest. You cannot, indeed, account, as I submit to you, for so remarkable a difference between the first and second statements, without supposing something of that kind. Now, is it improbable that that did take place? From the time she left the Talbot Arms till she came here she seems to have been a person of very remarkable importance. She went to Dolly’s, and Mr. Stevens visited her six or seven times. Why did he visit here? What for? Mr. Stevens is unquestionably—and if under proper self-restraint, no one can blame him for it—very indignant at what he fears to have been the foul play of Palmer with Cook. He is not in the same condition of life as Elizabeth Mills. Why should he have gone to visit her six or seven times, conversing with her in a private room? She says, “He only came to see whether I liked the place; he called to inquire after my health.” Gardner also, his attorney, saw her once, but only asked her how she was, and they talked about other things. She said she gave the last authentic account of her evidence to a man she did not know—whom she had never seen before; and when I found out, after much questioning, that Mr. Stevens was with him, and asked her why she had not told me so, her answer was, “Because you never asked me.” That raised a laugh, and she enjoyed her triumph. All this looks like having been tutored. I put it to you that you cannot, with any degree of satisfaction, rely on the evidence of the young woman; and you will learn that the confusion and the variety of the symptoms she has put together, taking them partly from her depositions and partly from this new version, have made the case which she described not only not a case of tetanus, but not of any known disease.

Serjeant Shee

Now, on this part of the case I have this observation to make; the illness of the Sunday night appears to have been a very remarkable occurrence. It came out in the course of the examination, as a fact spoken to by Cook, and it will be for you to judge, after you have heard the evidence of the medical gentlemen, whether the periodicity of the attacks does not militate against the theory of death by strychnia poison. The illnesses of Cook take place three nights running, exactly at the same time, or if not exactly at the same time, very nearly. I find that is a symptom of very frequent occurrence, that about the same hour of the night, or of the week, or of the month, and very often after the patient has got to bed, the thing occurs. It is about the same hour in this case of Mr. Cook’s. On the question whether the symptoms were such as are consistent with the theory of strychnia poison, and inconsistent with the theory of death from other and natural causes, I have only now further to state what I intend to prove. I will not go through in detail what will be better stated by the gentlemen who will be called; but I shall call a number of most respectable physicians, surgeons, and general practitioners, having extensive experience in our large cities, who all support the view I have to submit to you, and which they have suggested to me as the probable one—that these fits of Mr. Cook were not tetanus, but violent convulsions, the result of the weak habit of his body, which had been increased by his mode of life.

I propose now to discuss the question whether the circumstantial evidence against Palmer be such as to be inexplicable on the supposition of his innocence, and if I show you on the broad and salient features of the evidence that it is not (you will not expect me to go into the more minute details), and I have succeeded in satisfying you on any considerable portion of the points to which I have directed your attention, and if the evidence comes up to what I have been instructed to say it will, you will be too happy, recollecting that you are the country in the language of the law—that the country out of doors, in a case of crime, of life and death, is uninformed, without the opportunity of hearing the witnesses examined or cross-examined on their oaths to decide between the Crown and the Queen’s subject on the evidence alone. Every word of this evidence will be carried to all the ends and corners of the earth, and it will remain to be seen whether this great country of England, in a paroxysm or convulsion of prejudice, created by the rashness of one scientific man who had no knowledge of his own about the matter, has made up its mind to sacrifice the life of a fellow-creature under circumstances which would expose any person who has ever been present at deathbed convulsions liable to the same charge.

I say the circumstantial evidence in this case is not such as to justify you in coming to a conclusion of the guilt of the prisoner. I will endeavour in this part of the discussion to address myself to those portions of the case which seem at the first blush of them, and on judicial consideration of them, to require notice. I will not avoid anything that is difficult or that may seem to you difficult, so that when I sit down you will see that I have discussed this great argument fully and fairly in every branch of it, and ask yourselves, what ground is there for any verdict but a verdict of “not guilty”? I will avoid nothing, and proceed at once to one of the most salient points. I will pass over, after an intimation that was made from the bench, the point about pushing the man at the inquest, or the accident of a slit in the covering of the jar, which, sharp instruments being used by the operators, may easily have occurred, or the putting it in a further corner of the room, from which there was no possibility of its being removed. I do not believe that any such circumstances as these would induce you to come to a conclusion against the prisoner.

Lord Campbell—No member of the Court, I think, has intimated any opinion as to the other portions of the case; merely as to the pushing.

Serjeant Shee

Mr. Serjeant Shee—I do not wish to suggest anything which is not strictly correct, and perhaps I ought not to use what was intimated from the bench in any way, but rather submit that, where everybody perfectly well knew Palmer, in any little apparent shove, so to speak, during the course of the post-mortem, is not to be taken as an evidence of his guilt. It was in leaning over, if at all, to observe an examination of considerable interest to all persons present, and I cannot conceive that anything of this kind can be taken into consideration. No serious complaint was made at the time. Mr. Devonshire said nothing was lost by it. He said also the jar was removed to a corner of the room. It was not removed out of sight. It was in the broad daylight. It was impossible it could be taken away without observation. It would be absurd that Palmer should be suspected of having done so with an improper object. This we know, that he was very reluctant to have the jar removed out of the possession of those on whom he could rely. That is very true; there were some persons who did not want to pay him £13,000; there were some persons who had been doing all they could to undermine his character for a very considerable time, imputing to him the most wicked conduct respecting a near relation, which none of his own relations ever joined in, knowing that there were many persons at Rugeley much prejudiced against him, and it was in his judgment of the last importance that anything which could be brought against him (and it was clear that this post-mortem, from the conduct of Stevens, was intended to found a charge against him), should be kept in unsuspected custody, and that nobody should have an opportunity of tampering with it and its contents. When told that Dr. Harland is coming to make the post-mortem, he says, “I am glad of that, for there is no knowing who might have done it; and it is a satisfaction that you, whom I do know, are coming to superintend it.” I say that was the conduct of a respectable man, who knows that his conduct would bear investigation if it were properly inquired into. But we know also that in a town like Rugeley there were a great many serious people, who could not approve of his habits of life, to whom his running about to races would not much recommend him, and whom he has reason to know would not very much regret any injury which might happen to him.

Serjeant Shee

Is there any other part of his conduct connected with the post-mortem which requires explanation? When the jar was going to be sent to town he objects to its going to Frere’s. He had some reason for that. He had an assistant in his service who had been in the service of Frere. We know the jealousies that exist in country towns between professional men. We will not do Mr. Frere the injustice to suppose he would do so great a wrong to Palmer as might result from tampering with the contents of the jar; but still it was right to be cautious, and Palmer told Dr. Harland, “I want you to take it with you to Stafford, and not let it go to Frere’s house.” In these minor incidental matters his conduct appears to me perfectly consistent with innocence. Let me call your attention to this more important matter, on which my learned friend in his instructions was told to rely—and accordingly he did, in the discharge of his duty, rely upon it. I will call your attention to what has been stated by Myatt, the postboy. His evidence was pressed into the case; it could not well be excluded from it as an evidence of guilt. Now, what did it amount to? Before I have done, under the general head of Palmer’s conduct, I will call your attention to what passed between him and Stevens. You will find the conduct and deportment of the latter were such as would make some men almost kick him; it was so very provoking, supposing Palmer was innocent. He dissembled with him—pretended to take his advice—cross-questioned him—changed his tone upon him—now speaking to him mildly, now in a voice of menace—threatened him with a post-mortem examination—and evidently did the whole thing hostilely to him, as if he thought something wrong had taken place, and it was his duty not only to protect the property, but to see any person who had been guilty of foul play towards Cook brought to condign punishment. Stevens, after poring over the remains of the dead man at the post-mortem examination, was ready to leave Rugeley, and a fly was ordered for him and his companion, Mr. Boycott, in which they were to proceed with the jar to Stafford, and thence by rail to London. Now, if there were anybody base enough, either in support of a theory, in support of a reputation—God forbid that I should suggest that to the prejudice of Dr. Taylor!—if there were anybody capable of so great a wickedness as tampering with the jar, it might easily be done; and he was anxious to have it kept by Dr. Harland and not committed to the custody of Stevens. His conduct to Palmer had been vexatious and annoying in the last degree; the fly was being got ready after Palmer, we may suppose, had dined; and meeting the postboy Myatt, he asked him, according to Myatt, whether he was going to drive Mr. Stevens to Stafford. “I told him,” said Myatt, “I was. He asked me if I would upset them?” Now the word “them” was first used in this Court to designate the jars. There was only one jar at that time, so it could not be meant to apply to the jars; if used at all, which I think very doubtful for the reason I tell you—at least in a bad sense—it must have been applied to Mr. Stevens and his companion. And now just see if the facts in this case which are undoubted do not give a reasonable colour to that. Palmer (though I will show you his conduct to Stevens was exemplary in every respect, by putting the dialogue between them before you without making any comment on it) must have felt outraged beyond all expression if—knowing himself to be innocent, that he had acted as a friend and brother to Cook, and had called his relations about him when he was ill—he found himself suspected of stealing a trumpery betting-book, which he knew was of no use to any one, and charged of playing falsely and foully with the life of Cook. He had great cause to be vexed and irritated with Stevens, and that he was so is plain from what he said to Dr. Harland—“There was a queer old fellow,” he said, “who has been down making inquiries, who seemed to be suspicious of my having stolen the betting-book, which everybody knows can be of no earthly use to anybody.” It shows that his mind was impressed with the idea that he was wronged. He may be supposed, communing with himself, to say, “He has ill-treated me; he has encouraged suspicions which have been excited against me already, and which, if he persists in his course of bringing another charge against me in this matter, will probably render it impossible to get the money from the insurance company in time to rescue me from a position which may involve in ruin myself and some members of my family.” That was evidently the tendency of what Stevens was about. He meets this postboy and asks him if he is to be ready to drive the fly to Stafford; the boy says, “Yes, I am.” He said, “If I would upset them there was a £10 note for me.” He has been asked, “Had anything been said about the jars?” I submit to you the true construction of the story, if it occurred at all, is, that being under a feeling of irritation against Stevens, and using strong expressions with regard to Stevens, hearing he was going to Stafford, he said, “I should not mind giving £10 to upset him.” He had been vexed at his conduct, and irritated by the perpetual suspicions and inquisitiveness which he had displayed, even when he went up with him, like a friend, to show him the corpse, uncovering it down to the thighs. Some previous suspicion must have existed in Stevens’ mind; but Palmer had no suspicion of this thought that he was guilty of so foul a crime as that which was imputed to him. If that evidence be throughout true, it is only true in the milder and innocent sense, and I have this reason for saying so. This man was in the service of the landlord of the Talbot Arms, and was always about the yard; he was driving to and from the Talbot Arms every day of his life; he must have been there on the day of the post-mortem examination; he must have been a constant companion of the stable boys and labourers about the yard; and his observation must have been drawn to a thing so striking and remarkable as a post-mortem examination on account of a suspicion of murder. He was not called before the coroner; and nobody knew, at the time the inquest was held, that he had ever said anything which could be fairly taken in a sense which would make it evidence of a guilty mind in Palmer. But if he had said that Palmer said, “I should not mind giving a £10 note to have him upset; it is a humbugging concern,” and in that manner, and with the feeling I have stated, it would not have excited any observation or suspicion, and no one would have summoned Myatt to the inquest. I submit that is the true version of this story. It is not to be supposed that a medical man, knowing that he had given a large dose of strychnia, would suppose that, by the accidental spilling of a jar, the liver and spleen and some of the tissues continuing untouched, he could have escaped the detection of his guilt.

Serjeant Shee

Next I shall call your attention to the evidence of Charles Newton; he is a person who has sworn before you that he saw Palmer at Mr. Salt’s surgery at nine o’clock on the Monday night, and that Palmer asked for three grains of strychnia; that he weighed it, and gave it to him in a piece of paper; that is the first part of what he swore before you and my lords. Now, I should tell you how this case has been conducted. As soon as my learned friend the Attorney-General, as counsel for the Crown, was made acquainted with the illness of my learned friend Mr. Serjeant Wilkins, with his inability to conduct the defence and that I was to supply his place, he desired that every scrap of evidence against the prisoner should be forwarded to me, and to my learned friends near me; and, accordingly, as soon as he received this evidence of Newton he forwarded it to me, and I received it on the day this Court met. I believe it was sent to me late on the previous night, but I did not see it until the morning you were sworn; so that this witness Newton did not bring this matter that was in his knowledge of the fact of the purchase by Palmer at Mr. Salt’s surgery at nine o’clock on the Monday night of three grains of strychnia—he did not bring that to the knowledge of the Crown until the night before this trial commenced. Now, he had been examined at the inquest, and he did not tell before the coroner the rest of the story which he told when he was examined here. (The learned serjeant read the examination of Charles Newton.) He did not tell that to the coroner. All he told the coroner was that he was present when Palmer bought some strychnia off Roberts on the Tuesday night in the shop of Mr. Hawkins; he did not speak to the purchase of the strychnia on the Monday night; he knew that he was called to corroborate a statement which Roberts had made as to the presence of Palmer at the shop, and the purchasing of the strychnia on the Tuesday, yet he never said one word at that time either of the fact of Palmer having bought strychnia off him on the Monday night or of his having asked him what appearances, if a dog were killed by strychnia, would be exhibited on its post-mortem examination. A man who so conducts himself is utterly unworthy of credit. There is one honest, laudable motive in a Court of justice, and that is to assist in the administration of the criminal law of the land. If any man had the least hesitation when in Court, or to come into Court and take the oath to depose to what he knew were the facts, we should not be safe against crime for a moment. But you cannot justify the fact of swearing away another man’s life, except under a sense of duty, and for that object; and if a man, knowing that he is to be sworn touching so grave a subject as that of murder, the first time he takes the oath omits a considerable portion of what he knows, and three weeks afterwards tells another portion, and at a further interval comes forward and tells more—enough, in his opinion, to drive the guilt home to the man who is accused—the witness, I say, who conducts himself in that manner ought not to be believed. The prisoner who is convicted upon the evidence of such a man as that is sacrificed by a jury. But there are other circumstances in that statement which render it in the last degree improbable. That Palmer should, once in a week, purchase strychnia in the town of Rugeley is not to be wondered at. Strychnia is sold for many purposes, to kill dogs and vermin, and Palmer, as you may recollect, had often occasion to complain of the dogs from the slipping of the foals and the galloping of the mares. In the course of the evidence in this case it has been mentioned that strychnia was purchased by Palmer twice within the week, when the first time he had bought quite enough, and more, for the purpose imputed to him. But that a person should go and buy strychnia twice in a week in a small country town, having bought enough for all purposes the first time—that he should go and buy more the next day at the shop of a rival tradesman, with whom he was on bad terms—is to the last degree improbable. Common sense revolts at it; nobody can or ought to be believed who makes any such statements. Again, observe he had been to London on the Monday. In London there is no difficulty for a medical man to get anything of the sort which he may require. He has only to write it down in the technical way, so as to give evidence of a medical education, and it is given to him at once, without a word. He had been to London; and, again, if he could not get it there, he could get it at Stafford. Why should he get it at Rugeley? that is the last place that he would have gone to for it. It seems to me that it is equally impossible he ever could have bought it for such a purpose as the purpose attributed to him, and that he would have been, if really guilty, so unwary as to allow the paper in which the strychnia had been not to be found with the full quantity he had purchased in it; he would not have been such a fool as not to take care that the paper in which it was wrapped was full of strychnia before his house was searched, so as to make sure that it should be found that nothing should appear to have been used out of it, and that the exact quantity was in the paper. I submit, therefore, it cannot be believed—it is not credible!

I am now in a condition to satisfy you that Palmer was undoubtedly in town, and that he could not have been there at nine o’clock; that he was in London at a quarter-past three o’clock, and that he could not have been there by nine o’clock—the hours at which the trains start rendered it impossible. The thing is false—downright false. It is impossible to have got to Rugeley before a quarter-past ten, and we will account for what he did in a way that will entirely satisfy you. He attended the post-mortem examination, and is it credible that a skilful medical man, who has studied at the London hospitals, would have gone to that dolt Newton to ask him as to what would be the effects of strychnia on a dog’s stomach? Is it credible that he should go to that stupid sort of fellow, who gave his evidence in that dogged, mulish, sullen manner, which often is indicative of something else besides the want of understanding, and that he would have gone and asked a chap like that, “What are the effects of strychnia?” and then, when he had been told, he would snap his fingers and say, “All right.” It cannot be—it is impossible. No one would believe it; and I submit to you confidently that unless there is much stronger evidence than that, it is evidence on which you cannot rely for a moment. To show the animus of this Newton against Palmer, I will remind you of what he stated. Palmer said that “you will find that he has taken a great deal of mercury; you will find this ‘fellow’ died from a diseased throat.” When he is questioned about it mildly and quietly by my friend Mr. Grove as to what was the exact term used, he answers, “I do not know whether he said poor or rich”; just as if it could be a question of that kind. What we wanted to know was whether he had spoken of the poor dead man in a pitying way, or whether he had spoken of him as a disreputable person, unworthy of all consideration. As to that part of the case I will say no more, and I will proceed to other matters taking you back again to what occurred at Shrewsbury.

Serjeant Shee

The case for the Crown is, that as early as the 14th November, at Shrewsbury, the scheme—the plot—of poisoning commenced. That is the supposition of those from whom the case has been taken by the Crown. Now, it is suggested that on the night of Wednesday, the 14th, Palmer dosed this man Cook with something that he put into his brandy, and the witness Fisher told us that Cook told him so. If you remember the early part of my address to you, I read a few words at the end of a letter from Cook to Fisher, in which, after telling him it was of vast importance to him, as well as to Palmer, that £500 should be paid to Mr. Pratt, he adds in a postscript “I am better.” These words must have referred to his illness at Shrewsbury. The letter relates to another matter which is of great importance to him and to Palmer, and he does not seem to treat it as one having in his own mind a belief that Palmer had drugged him with poison for the purpose of destroying his health at Shrewsbury. Then, again, on the evidence, what does Palmer say himself about what occurred at Shrewsbury? He says, when it is mentioned, “Cook says I have put something in his glass; I do not play such tricks with people”—taking it as if it had been never understood otherwise than as a loose expression of a man, perhaps not actually drunk—the evidence does not go to that extent—though I think you will be of opinion he was very nearly approaching to that condition. I could not help being a little amused by a version which I read some time ago of this portion of the Shrewsbury plot. I will read it to you—“After indulging freely in the foreign wines of an English country town, 150 miles from London, the owner of ‘Polestar’ took to brandy and water to restore his British solidity. Tossing off his glass, he complained that there was something in it, for it burned his throat. Perhaps those who have drunk strong brandy and water with similar haste may have experienced the same sensation; perhaps also, like Mr. Cook, they may have vomited afterwards. He bolted his brandy and water down at Palmer’s challenge, and bolted it up again when it encountered the cold champagne. That night he was very drunk, and very sick, and very ill. His dinner he cast up into a basin; his money he deposited with his friend Mr. Ishmael Fisher, a sporting wine merchant, of Shoe Lane, Holborn. To this Mr. Ishmael Fisher the owner of ‘Polestar’ gave £700 to keep till next morning, expressing his belief, at the same time, that Palmer had dosed him for the sake of the money. If such had been Palmer’s intention, would he have left Cook at such a moment? He neither followed him from the room when his stomach rebelled, nor did he go near him all that night. This neglect showed, indeed, how hollow was his friendship, but it proves his innocence; guilt would have been much more officious. Next morning Cook looked very ill, as men are apt to do after excessive vinous vomiting; but his drunken suspicions of Palmer had evaporated with the fumes of the brandy, and they were again friends and brother sportsmen.”

Serjeant Shee

I believe that is the true version of the matter, and that Cook believed it to be so. He breakfasted with Palmer the next morning; he was good friends with him the whole of the day, and went with him to Rugeley, and there remained on Palmer’s invitation. In consequence of the letter which Pratt wrote on the 13th, and which Palmer got on the 14th, in which they both had an interest, Cook wrote to Pratt to say that somebody would call on him with £200, and he wrote to Fisher to tell Fisher to do so. Did anybody at that time believe that there was any intention to drug and poison this man? Does not the explanation that Mrs. Brookes gave, which I must say was exceedingly creditable to her, the readiness with which she stated to me that her husband did not approve of her attending races, that it was disagreeable to him; and the dignity, if I may say so, with which she answered the question put to her by my learned friend—“Are you intimate with Palmer?” by this other question, “What do you mean by intimate with him? I am friendly,” seemed to me to entitle her to all due respect. And when she, being called for the Crown, tells you, “That night I heard in several directions of a great number of people who were purged and vomited; there was a general affection of the kind amongst strangers visiting Shrewsbury on that occasion”—I submit to you it was to the last degree improbable that anything of that kind occurred. About the tumbler which she saw in Palmer’s hand I cannot suggest any reason, because it is not in my instructions, but it might probably be accounted for in this way, when he came back from Rugeley and found all the people indisposed he would naturally look at the water to see if there was anything to account for its unwholesomeness. Mrs. Brookes said, and that is the point to which I wish to call your attention, that he was in a passage under a chandelier; that the waiter pointed to him when he showed her upstairs; that he spoke to her while holding up the glass to the light, and said, “Wait a minute, and I will come to you.” Nothing can be more natural than that; and I submit to you it is impossible to say that there is anything to justify a suspicion of poison in it. With regard to the money he gave to Fisher, I can suggest no other reason than that, just before being sick, he gave his money to Fisher, feeling that it was coming upon him, and that his stomach was revolting at the liberties he had taken with it. He had the good sense to place his money, when he was still very sick, in the hands of Fisher, and he afterwards went to bed. It may have been that he had been guilty of excess in eating and drinking, and it was necessary to send for the doctor, who, when he came, wished to send him an emetic. The young man knew so well what to do that he said, “Oh! I can make myself sick without an emetic; I will put my tooth-brush down my throat; I can be sick without your emetic.” He took a pill when it was recommended to him and a black draught, and the moment he laid his head on his pillow he was perfectly free from any alarm, and he got up the next morning perfectly well. Gentlemen, that is really too ludicrous to be worthy of a moment’s consideration. Now, let us go to certain other matters, and more particularly to the conduct of the prisoner himself. I would just mention that there was a person there of the name of Myatt in the room at the time they say the brandy and water was drugged. Why was he not called? The others came in just before going to bed, but Myatt had been there the whole evening, and was not a mere accidental visitor in the room. You will hear his version so far as it is necessary. They have now got back to Rugeley, and then the history of the slow poisoning continues. Cook and Palmer go back together, and probably they talk all the way about Pratt and their difficulties, and the way of getting out of them, and of the small way that the winnings of Shrewsbury will go to effect the object. They both see ruin staring them in the face unless the Prince of Wales office can be forced to pay the money due upon the policy of insurance, and they can remain free from all suspicion of insolvency or misconduct in the meantime. When they get to Rugeley, by sending up the £200 to Pratt, they provide for the temporary difficulty. They are on friendly terms, Palmer making use of Cook’s things, and probably both attaining their own objects, as it would appear that Palmer said directly Cook died that he had some interest in bills which were outstanding; and that might well have been, considering they were engaged in racing transactions; that they were joint owners of one horse; that they had the same trainer, betted for each other at races, and that they were confederates and friends on the turf, in that sort of relation to each other which gave them a joint interest in the same ventures. Cook sat at the table of Palmer on the 16th, and wrote up that night to Pratt. Cook goes to bed late on that evening, well enough, not so drunk as to prevent his asking the chambermaid to give him a longer candle, in order that he might read in bed. He seems to have had a little champagne, not so much as to have made him drunk, yet perhaps too much for a stomach weakened by the excess, if it was excess, at Shrewsbury, or by the vomiting which was occasioned by the illness there, and the hot water which he had taken. He gets up the next morning poorly; he eats nothing that day; ails enough for Mr. Bamford to be called in by Palmer, and Palmer is unremitting in his attention to him on that day and the Sunday following.

Serjeant Shee

Now, it is said that that very attentiveness is evidence of the prisoner’s guilt. What, as my friend here (Mr. Grove) says, what is a man to do? Here is a young fellow’s health in very considerable danger. Cook, having a joint interest in racing transactions with Palmer, thinks it convenient to stop at Rugeley, where he has no friend but Palmer. They are not flush of money, and Palmer has a house and an establishment on a moderate scale immediately opposite the inn in which Cook is staying. He is enabled to send such things over as can be got in a private house, not at hotel prices, but at a very trifling expense. He was on a visit to Palmer, and he knew nobody there but Palmer. He was ailing; and as it is very dull for a man who has no intellectual pursuits to be alone all day when out of health, Palmer goes over and talks to him, and attends to him, and gets him what comforts he can. That is what a man would do to a friend; it is precisely what a man would do. If he had not done it, but merely attended to him at night when he was taken ill on the Monday night, without visiting him during the day, it might have been said that he was neglecting him, and only attended to him when he wanted to give him another dose of poison. That is the way the Crown would have put it then! He is laboriously attentive to him under circumstances which can well be accounted for by the reason that he had actually, if not a sincere friendship for him, at least a friendly kind of liking for him, and an interest with him on betting and racing transactions, and could supply him with several things from his house at little or no expense. If Cook had been well he would probably have had his meals at Palmer’s house. He was ill, and Palmer sends Dr. Bamford to him. He saw him at eight o’clock on Sunday morning, and again at six or seven o’clock. Cook told him his bowels had been moved twice or thrice. That is what he told to Dr. Bamford; it may have been known to Palmer that it was oftener, and that the truth was he was slightly suffering under some symptoms of diarrhœa, as he afterwards stated in the letter to Jones. It was Cook himself who told Dr. Bamford about his bowels having been moved; and on the same day Palmer wrote a letter to Jones, intending to bring Jones there, he being about to go to London, and stated “Cook had been suffering from diarrhœa.” It was at Shrewsbury, where everybody else had diarrhœa. He took the pill and black draught, and their effects continued, probably to some extent when he was at Rugeley. It is absurd to pretend that the suggestion of diarrhœa could have any sinister object, as Jones must have ascertained the truth as soon as he arrived at Rugeley.

Serjeant Shee

I now beg to call your attention to the next important fact in this case. It seems to me to be, though I touch upon it briefly here, one of the very last importance, and one which ought to decide it in the prisoner’s favour. The supposition of the Crown is, that Palmer intended to dose Cook with antimony, to keep his stomach in a perpetual state of vomiting, in order the more easily to despatch him by strychnia; that he began the plot on the Wednesday at Shrewsbury and continued it at Rugeley, and that during the Sunday Cook was under the influence of that treatment—Sunday was the day Palmer attempted, as was said, to force the broth upon him. Now, being bent, as it is supposed, upon destroying Cook, there is one man in the world who would be the very last witness he would select as a witness of his proceedings. He was a medical man, in the prime of life, intimately acquainted with Cook, living in the same house with him, much attached to him, at all events sufficiently attached to him to come to him as soon as he had heard that he had had an attack of diarrhœa—Mr. Jones, of Lutterworth. Palmer, intending to go to London, and not wishing to leave Cook alone, wrote on the Sunday to Mr. Jones, telling him that Cook was then ill with diarrhœa, a statement which is not altogether inconsistent with the evidence of Dr. Bamford and what Cook stated, and begs of him to come over. I beg of you to pause here for a moment in order to appreciate the full importance of this fact; the more you think of it the more profound will be your conviction that it affords evidence irrefragable of Palmer’s innocence. The imputation upon Palmer is that he intended to kill Cook to possess himself of his winnings. Who was with Cook when the race was won? Who was by his side on Shrewsbury racecourse for the three minutes that he was speechless? Who saw him take out his betting-book and count 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 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 confidence, 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—as 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 disburthened the perilous stuff that weighed upon his own brain. Jones, as well as Palmer, was a medical man, and it is not improbable that, in the course of his studies, the former may have noted in his class-book the very passages respecting the operation of strychnia which had attracted the attention of the latter. 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 chamber of a medical witness, who would know from his frightful symptoms that the man was not dying a natural death? He brings a medical man into the room, and makes him lie within a few inches of the sick man’s bed, that he may be startled by his terrific shrieks, and gaze upon 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 whole world if you say that it is true—I believe in my conscience that it is false, because, consistently with the laws that govern human nature, it cannot possibly be true.

Serjeant Shee

Gentlemen, there are other facts to be adverted to before I sit down to which it is necessary your attention should be drawn. There was a great stir at the hotel at Rugeley after Mr. Jones had returned from London with Mr. Stevens, the executor. Mr. Stevens arrives at the inn with Mr. Jones, has been in conversation all the way down with Mr. Jones, and has heard from Mr. Jones all that Mr. Jones knows, and does not appear to have had anything communicated to him by Mr. Jones which could justify any suspicion on his part. Mr. Jones, when they arrive at Rugeley, introduces him to Palmer, and Palmer at once takes him up to the room of the dead man, and uncovers the body down to the thighs, and Mr. Stevens looks at the corpse and sees there are no convulsions about the body except the clenching of the hands. He sees there is no emaciation, no signs as he thinks of illness, and, wondering within himself, says, “How can you have died?” or something to that effect; “How grievous a thing it is that your young life should have passed away!” I think he said he did not look as if he were dead. After seeing the corpse they went down to dinner, and he asked Palmer to dine with him, and Jones, and Mr. Bradford, the husband of Mr. Cook’s sister. He has not been called; he could have told us if there was anything suspicious in the conduct of Palmer, anything that could justify such conduct on the part of Mr. Stevens. They have their dinner, and when their dinner is over, see what takes place. It is important you should know it, because I think you will see from the way it occurred that the conduct of Palmer was the conduct of a man certainly apprehensive of any sort of vexatious inquiry which might involve him in pecuniary troubles, and was therefore anxious to conciliate Mr. Stevens, still comporting himself like one who could firmly and freely maintain his equality with Mr. Stevens unabashed, with a clear brow and the appearance of an innocent man. (The learned serjeant read a portion of the dialogue which took place between Mr. Stevens and Palmer.) He said, “with a spasmodic convulsion of the throat,” which was perfectly apparent; he could not see his face, but there was a spasmodic convulsion of his throat. Who could believe such a testimony of guilt as that? He expects that Palmer is to be bound to look after everything of every kind that was in the hotel belonging to Cook, and because he could not find a trumpery book, which anybody might have taken away, thinking and probably having heard it was of very little use, which could not be of the slightest service in any way to Palmer for any purpose whatever, or to anybody, simply on that account, he is to indulge in this vexatious proceeding. The last time the book was seen was on the Monday. The last person who saw it was Elizabeth Mills, on the Monday, and on that day there were several people there with Cook—Saunders the trainer, and the jockeys; after his death the two servant-maids and the housekeeper, the three undertaker’s men, the two women who laid Cook out, and some other persons; the barber who shaved him might have taken the book, and having taken it could not return it; for here again is the effect of dishonesty as well as falsehood. Once done, you cannot repair it; without admitting it you cannot set it right again. I throw imputation on nobody; I simply say, that as many people had access to the room, it is not fair, it is not right under the circumstances when a man is charged in such a case of momentous importance without any assignable reason for his purloining the betting book, to fix it on him without any proof that he ever had it in his hands, when nothing like a proper search was made for it until some time after Cook’s death. I asked whether the drawers were not full of linen and clothes, the answer was that they were. It was not seen immediately after the death, nor was there any search made for it, nor was it set aside and taken care of in the room, so that it could not have been removed by Palmer with a guilty intention of purloining it. Let us go on for a moment with this dialogue—(the learned serjeant then read a passage from the dialogue as detailed in the evidence)—and at last, after goading and irritating the man for all this time, though Palmer was willing to make explanations and provoke inquiries into anything or circumstance which if inquired into would at once have led to a discussion of matters in a fair and gentleman-like manner, Stevens snubs him by asking him whether he intends to be at the post-mortem; and at last, when he says, “It is a matter of indifference to me,” goads the poor man into saying, “So it is to me.” That is the only word of irritation that Palmer—who kept his ground during the whole time and stood up to this man—that is the only word of irritation that he used. Mr. Stevens speaks to him in a very warm manner, yet Palmer manifests the composure of a gentleman, of a man of feeling and consideration to the father—as he called himself—but the stepfather of the young man, and that is to be turned into evidence of guilt.

There is another story made against him, that he was found searching in the pockets of Mr. Cook shortly after his death—it is the most absurd suggestion on their own showing. The facts were these. Mr. Jones, I think, told the servants to tell Palmer to come into the room. I think that was it—to tell Palmer to go into the room; and then I think Mr. Jones told another servant to follow him into the room. Elizabeth Mills is the witness to that. She says, “I went in, and I saw him looking about seeing if there was anything in one of the coats, and he also looked under the bolster of the bed, just as a gentleman might be looking for a watch; and he went on doing so after I got into the room.” It was quite clear she suspected nothing, and I submit it is not fair that any suspicion should attach to him on the subject.