They Hanged My Saintly Billy

'I am,' he replied.

'Why not let us share a compartment?' suggested Dr Palmer. 'I have found a nearly empty one farther along the train.'

'Many thanks,' answered Mr Stevens, 'but the porter has already placed my bag on the rack in this carriage, where I have acquaintances.'

'No offence taken,' Dr Palmer said smiling. 'By the way, I was summoned to London by telegraph soon after you left Rugeley.'

'Where are my stepson's horses kept?' Mr Stevens presently asked.

'At Hednesford, some three miles out of Rugeley,' came the answer. 'I'll drive you there, if you please.'

'That would be civil of you,' Mr Stevens said, and bowed slightly.

The guard then rang a bell, and they parted, each to his carriage.

Dr Palmer had just paid Pratt another four hundred pounds in notes, but it is unknown whom else he saw during his short visit to London. Possibly the nature of his other business there, though nefarious, would have proved him innocent of Cook's murder; this, however, is only a surmise.

Much as he disliked Dr Palmer, Mr Stevens thought fit to smother his feelings for the time being. When the train stopped at Wolverton, and they met in the refreshment room (among stale sandwiches and slices of pork-pie, grey with engine grit) he reopened the conversation. First apologizing for his heat in the matter of Cook's betting-book, he continued ingratiatingly: 'Doctor, this sudden death of my stepson is a very melancholy event and may, I fear, have impaired my usual good manners. His poor mother, you see, died young, and so did his father, at the age of a mere thirty-one. For the sake of his brother and sister, who are also delicate in health, I should like to know more about John's complaints, and therefore intend to have his body opened.'

'Why, that can easily be done,' assented Dr Palmer; but the interview was once more interrupted by the guard's bell, and they did not meet again until the train pullcd up at Rugby. Mr Stevens then said: 'Since I live far from Staffordshire, and the horses at Hednesford are supposed to be valuable, I think of asking some solicitor in your district to manage my affairs.'

'Yes, that would certainly be prudent,' Dr Palmer agreed. 'Do you know any solicitors there personally?'

'None,' Mr Stevens answered, after a moment's hesitation. But the Rugby stop is short, and service at the refreshment room is slow. The bell rang imperatively, and Mr Stevens tipped his cupful of scalding tea into a saucer to cool; then drank from the saucer, spilling some down his waistcoat as he did so, and ran for his carriage. He found Dr Palmer very forwardly, as he diought, ensconced in the scat next to his.

'You were talking about Rugeley solicitors,' said the Doctor.

' No, Sir, you were,' Mr Stevens snapped at him.

'Pray allow me to dry your waistcoat with this handkerchief,' offered Dr Palmer; but Mr Stevens curtly declined, and resumed conversation with the lady and gentleman, sitting opposite, who shared his interest in German instrumental music. Dr Palmer did not venture to put in an oar.

On arrival at Rugeley, Mr Stevens gave his acquaintances a polite good-bye and alighted with Dr Palmer, who lowered his bag for him from the rack to the platform. As they waited for a luggage-porter, Dr Palmer said: 'If you will pardon my correction, Sir, there was certainly talk of a solicitor. Unless I misheard your remark, you know no Rugeley man personally?'

'My intention was,' explained Mr Stevens, 'to cut short a profitless discussion.'

'Well,' continued Dr Palmer unabashed, 'I know them all intimately, and can provide you with a most reliable one. Let me go home for a cup of coffee first; then I'll step across to The Talbot Arms and tell you about him.'

'Many thanks, but pray don't trouble yourself. With the help of Mr Masters, who seems to be a knowledgeable and judicious old fellow, I'll soon engage the sort of agent I require.'

'At all events, Sir, you'll not find a solicitor tonight.'

'And why not, pray?'

'It's late, and some of the best go out of town at the week-end.'

' Upon my word,' said Mr Stevens, ' I never in my life experienced any difficulty in finding a solicitor when I needed one, whatever the hour.' Then suddenly altering his voice and manner, he asked: 'Sir, if I should engage a solicitor as my adviser, I suppose you would not mind answering any questions he might care to put?'

Though Mr Stevens claims that Dr Palmer's reply: 'Oh, no, certainly not,' was accompanied by a nervous spasm of the throat, the moonlight can hardly have been strong enough for this to be distinctly observed. They were now boarding the station omnibus, and no more was said.

The omnibus stopped outside The Talbot Arms. Dr Palmer entered his own house, and Mr Stevens, after leaving his bag in the care of Mrs Bond, went off at once to find Mr Gardiner, the solicitor—who was out of town, as it happened—and presently returned to supper at the hotel.

Later, Dr Palmer sought him out and said: 'I fear those bills I negotiated for Cook are going to affect me in a deucedly unpleasant way.'

Mr Stevens replied, somewhat menacingly: 'I think you should know, Sir, that, since last we saw each other, I have heard a rather different account of John's affairs.'

'Oh, indeed?' remarked the Doctor politely. 'Well, I hope that the matter will be settled amicably, at any rate.'

'It will be settled, Sir, only in the Court of Chancery,' was Mr Stevens's severe rejoinder.

'Oh, indeed?' repeated Dr Palmer, coolly and offhandedly.

They did not meet again until six o'clock the next evening (Sunday), by which time Mr Stevens had consulted with Mr Gardiner, and the Doctor had attended divine service at St Augustine's Church, where he laid a sovereign in the collection plate.

Mr Stevens was now seated at a table in the coffee-room, writing a letter, while the cook prepared his dinner. Dr Palmer entered with a paper in his hand. He offered it to Mr Stevens who, however, took no notice of him, but went on writing. After a while, Mr Stevens looked up and said: 'Ah! Good evening, Sir! Do you know a local man named Smith?'

Dr Palmer answered: 'Smith? Smith? Smith? It's a common enough name hereabouts. I can think of at least a dozen Smiths.'

'I am referring to a Mr Smith who sat up with my stepson one night,' explained Mr Stevens.

'Why, of course,' said the Doctor. 'That's Mr Jeremiah Smidi, a very good fellow, a solicitor, the very man whom I should have recommended to you, had you let me.'

'I raised the question because, since the betting-book has been lost, it is important for me to know who was with my stepson Then he paused and inquired: 'Did you attend him in a medical capacity?'

'Oh dear, no!' replied Dr Palmer, caught off his guard.

Mr Stevens said: 'I ask you because of my determination to have his body opened. If you attended him professionally at any time, doubtless the medical man I engage will think it proper for you to be present at the examination.'

'May I ask whom you have in mind?' Dr Palmer ventured.

'I shall not know myself until tomorrow,' Mr Stevens replied, ' but think it only proper to disclose my plans. Whether you are present or not is a matter of indifference to me.'

With a curt nod of dismissal, Mr Stevens returned to his writing and this lack of civility so nettled the Doctor that he snapped back: 'And equally a matter of indifference to me, Sir.'

'That is surprising,' observed Mr Stevens, his eyes still on the letter before him. 'I thought that as a close friend of Mr Cook's, you would be interested to learn whether some other medical man may have accidentally given him a fatal dose.'

Then he re-read his letter, signed it with a flourish, and proceeded to address an envelope which he had already stamped.

Dr Palmer again offered the paper in his hand. Mr Stevens waved it away, saying: 'It looks like a financial document. You will excuse me: I never discuss finance of a Sunday.'

It was a sheet of yellow post-quarto written in Dr Palmer's handwriting, but signed 'J. P. Cook'. On the day after Cook's death, the Doctor had again summoned Samuel Cheshire to his house, poured him a glassful of brandy and pleaded: ' Sam, I count on you to save my life and fortune. When Cook and I drew up this document some days ago, we omitted to get it witnessed. It refers to a business in which I freely assisted him, without any hope of benefit for myself except his continued friendship. In point of fact, I raised four thousand pounds for him in loans on my own security to help him out of his difficulties, and here he acknowledges the various sums he had, together with the dates of receipt. Be a good fellow and witness it, predating your signature to last Saturday, the morning after Cook's arrival. It won't be legal otherwise, and my horses and furniture may be seized by the money-lending leeches.'

'Billy, old chum,' Cheshire answered, 'I very much regret that I can't oblige you. I have already broken the Postal Regulations in steaming open letters and allowing you to read their contents; but this would be going too far. Neither did Cook sign the document in my presence, nor would I recognize his signature. So I shouldn't fancy being summoned to give evidence on the matter at some future date—especially since this paper is supposed to have been witnessed at your house, on a Saturday morning, when the Post Office is at its busiest and many people saw me at work.'

'Oh, very well,' said Palmer. 'I'm disappointed in you, Sam! But it doesn't signify much; perhaps Cook's executors won't object to its not being attested—for at least he signed over a receipt stamp as the Law requires.'

Mr Stevens had taken care that Dr Palmer should steal a glance at the letter on the coffee-room table. It was addressed to Mr William Webb Ward, the Stafford Coroner, and demanded an inquest on Cook's body. He had already written asking Dr Harland of Stafford whether he would kindly conduct the postmortemexamination.

Next morning, in the hope of forestalling trouble, Dr Palmer caught old Dr Bamford just before he went out on his rounds, and requested him to sign Cook's death certificate. Dr Bamford did so, but on entering the cause of death as 'an apoplectic seizure' said: 'Properly, my boy, you should do this yourself. He was your patient, not mine.'

Chapter XVII

THE INQUEST ON JOHN PARSONS COOK

DR HARLAND had been in practice since the year of Waterloo, and won a medical degree at Edinburgh only a few years later. He was a negligent and easy-going man of whom people said: 'If his patients recover, they pay him well; if they die, their heirs don't dispute the fees.' He used few drugs, reposing great faith in the power of Nature to effect cures if left to herself. Rhubarb, magnesia, calomel, and sulphur were, in general, the limit of his prescriptions: he chiefly favoured rest, and a diet of slops. It was this Dr Harland who had obligingly passed Walter Palmer as a good life, and been rewarded by Dr Palmer for this kindness with a dozen of 1834 port. Yet he could by no means be called ignorant of his profession.

On reaching Rugeley from Stafford, the morning of Monday, November 26th, Dr Harland went to visit Dr Bamford and, as he passed The Talbot Arms, was greeted by Dr Palmer, who emerged from the back of his house. 'Why, good morning, Harland,' said Dr Palmer, 'I'm glad that Mr Stevens has chosen you for this post-mortemjob. Someone might have come with whom I'm unacquainted.'

Dr Harland shook hands, and asked: 'What isthis case? I understand there's a suspicion of poisoning?'

' Oh, no,' replied Dr Palmer.' I don't think so. But it seems that a meddlesome London merchant named Stevens accuses Dr Bamford of treating the case wrong. I have the highest respect for the venerable doctor, and not merely because he brought me and my brothers into this delightful world. He's a wise, kindhearted old man, and I couldn't bear to have doubt cast on his medical ability. So, as I say, I'm glad you're here. There'll be no prejudice.'

'I feel ashamed to tell you, Sir,' Dr Harland confessed, 'that I carelessly left my instrument case behind at Stafford.'

'Then by all means use mine,' cried Dr Palmer, 'and get the business done with quick. To be frank, I believe that this queer fellow also suspects me. I can't guess what he's at, or what he wants. He's making a loud hue and cry about a lost betting-book. Not only is it of no use to anyone, but at least fifteen people were in the room while Johnny Cook lay ill'—here he began ticking them off on his fingers—'two servants, a couple of jockeys, the housekeeper, the landlord, a trainer, a barber, our Postmaster, not to mention two qualified doctors beside myself—so why he has picked on me, God alone knows. I feel justly aggrieved.'

Dr Harland nodded in sympathy. 'Yes,' he said, 'families are apt to turn very nasty on these occasions, as I know to my cost. Death from natural causes don't satisfy them. They nurse a grudge against Heaven, and try to work it off on those who have busied themselves most heartily in attendance on the deceased.'

After parting with Dr Palmer, he proceeded to the house of another Rugeley surgeon named Freer, from whom it had been arranged that he should receive a stoneware jar to contain parts of the dead body intended for analysis. There he met Charles Devonshire, a medical student at the London University. Mr Devonshire, while apologizing that Dr Monckton, his employer, was unable to open the body as agreed, showed a readiness to do so himself. He had had considerable experience in dissection and post-mortemanalysis during his five years at King's College, and with the help of Charles Newton would do what was required of him under the supervision of Drs Harland and Bamford.

'And who is this Newton?' asked Dr Harland.

'He assists Dr Salt,' explained Devonshire, 'and, though he can show no diploma of any sort, calls himself a medical man. This will be his first post-mortem.'

'Rugeley seems to be particularly rich in medical men,' commented Harland.

'Oh, that's not the half of it,' laughed Devonshire. 'Some of us are veryjuvenile, and some very ancient, with few indeed middle-aged, except Dr Palm er; but he prefers horses to humans.'

The post-mortemexamination was held at The Talbot Arms, next to the room where Cook had died. There were present, besides Drs Bamford and Harland, and their two young assistants: Mr Tom Masters, Jeremiah Smith, Samuel Cheshire, Ben Thirlby, and the minister of a Dissenting Chapel; also Drs Salt, Jones, Richard Freer Junior, and Palmer.

Dr Palmer and Newton stood alone together, for a few minutes, at the entrance to the Assembly Hall, awaiting the return of Dr Harland, who had gone to buy a pencil and notebook. Dr Palmer gave a little shudder, and said: 'This will be a dirty job, Charles. Let's go to my house and have a brandy!'

They walked across the road, and the Doctor offered him half a tumblerful of neat brandy. 'You'll find that poor fellow suffering from a diseased throat,' he said, sipping at his own drink. 'He had syphilis and took a good deal of mercury in consequence. Come, let me refill your tumbler!'

On their return to the Assembly Hall, the examination began. Mr Devonshire, under Dr Harland's surveillance, applied himself to the dissection. Dr Monckton, his employer, had lent him instruments, but neither scales nor measuring glasses; this being a casual, country affair, where one measures bulk and quality by the eye alone. The bowels, stomach, heart, brain, lungs, throat, and private parts were examined, with about half an inch of spinal cord. All appeared to be healthy, except for evidence of former syphilis, also a slight affliction of the throat, some whitish pustules beneath the tongue, and an undue quantity of dark fluid in the lungs, which Devonshire diagnosed as a morbid symptom. The heart was found empty and spasmodically contracted.

Only one incident disturbed the quiet course of proceedings. Devonshire had removed a yard of intestines for insertion in the jar; but as he opened the stomach with a pair of scissors, according to his instructions, Newton lurched against him. Dr Harland cried: 'Stop that!' because Dr Palmer was standing close enough to have given Newton a push. Devonshire then called attention to certain yellowish-white spots about the size of a mustard seed at the end of the stomach. As a result of Newton's push, the stomach, which contained two or three fluid ounces of a brownish liquid, had been punctured and a spoonful splashed on a chair. Dr Harland tied up the puncture with a piece of string but, while he and Devonshire examined the lining membrane, Newton suddenly turned the stomach inside-out. Another half-teaspoonful of liquid fell on the floor as he placed it in the jar, which Dr Harland then scaled with two pigs' bladders, saying: 'So that is that! Little seems to be amiss here. I don't even subscribe to Devonshire's view that the lungs are unhealthy.'

Dr Palmer clapped Dr Bamford on the shoulder and exclaimed in a stage whisper: 'Well, they won't hang us yet.'

'Hey, speak up, my boy,' piped Dr Bamford, who is very deaf.

'I said that they won't hang us yet,' Palmer reiterated in loud tones, grinning about him. While Dr Harland was jotting down his notes and Devonshire collecting his instruments, Dr Palmer carried the jar towards the doorway, where he set it on the floor.

Dr Harland looked up and called: 'Where's the jar?'

Dr Palmer replied: 'It's here. I thought it would be more convenient by the door, to take away.'

'Pray, bring it back!' said Dr Harland, vexed at such officious-ness. He rose to meet Dr Palmer, who was already returning the jar, and then noticed that both bladders had been pierced with a clean cut an inch long.

Looking around the room, Dr Harland inquired: 'Who made this cut?'

'I didn't,' said Dr Palmer. 'I haven't even a knife on me.' 'Nor I,' said Devonshire. 'And you, Mr Newton?' Dr Harland asked. Newton mutely shook his head.

The mystery was never solved, but no harm had been done. Dr Harland untied the bladders, replaced them so that the cut came below the neck of the jar, tied them up again, and secured the knot with sealing-wax. Then he wrapped the jar in stiff brown paper, which he also sealed.

Where is it going?' Dr Palmer wished to know.

'To Freer's,' Dr Harland answered.

'I would rather you took it to Stafford and kept it under your eye,' Dr Palmer complained.

'No, Mr Stevens wants it left at Freer's,' said Dr Harland. 'It's to be analysed by the celebrated Professor Taylor of Guy's Hospital.' He then carried the jar to Dr Freer's surgery, whence it was taken to London by one Boycott, Messrs Gardiner & Landor's chief clerk.

Newton sought out Boycott at Rugeley railway station. 'Let me come up with you, Boycott,' he pleaded, 'I must speak to Mr Gardiner.'

'I'll give him a message, if you like,' said Boycott. 'No,' cried Newton in agitation, 'I'd rather address him personally.'

When pressed, he explained: 'I'm in a pretty dangerous position, Boycott. You see, on the night of Monday, I did what I shouldn't have done. Dr Palmer stopped at Salt's surgery where I'm employed, and wished me to sell him three grains of strychnine. I told him I couldn't sell it, for that's not Dr Salt's way; besides, he and Salt are on bad terms. Yet I gave it him, wrapped in a paper. You see, Ben Thirlby's working for Palmer and, as you perhaps know, I'm his natural son; that's why I obliged him. But if these spasms of Cook's were due to strychnine poisoning, I'm afraid of being hanged as an accomplice or, at the best, transported.'

Boycott asked him: 'Why don't you tell the Coroner?'

'I daren't,' said Newton. 'I made no entry in the Poison Book, as I should have done. However, I'll tell Mr Gardiner on oath, just to clear myself, if there's trouble.'

Meanwhile Jim, the ostler at The Talbot Arms, had been told to drive Mr Stevens in the hotel fly to Stafford, after having taken tea at home. Dr Palmer presendy met Jim coming back from his tea, and said: ' Good evening, Jim. Boots has the fly waiting for you, I see. Are you going over to Stafford?'

'Those arc my orders,' Jim answered.

'It's a humbugging concern!’ cried the Doctor. 'This meddle-some fool arranges a post-mortem,and sends Cook's stomach up to London in a jar for analysis! Gardiner's clerk is taking it by train. Hark'ee, Jim, if you'll upset old Stevens into a ditch of stinking mud, it'll be worth ten pounds to you.'

Dr Palmer was laughing as he spoke, but Jim replied with mock gravity: 'I don t think as I could do it for ten pound, Doctor; why, I might end in jail, or the Infirmary, which would be worse!'

Dr Palmer then offered Jim a drink, which he declined, being already two minutes late. At nightfall, Dr Palmer caused a stir in Rugeley by reeling through the streets, drunk and muttering to himself. He had never been seen in such a condition before.

Professor Taylor, the toxicological expert at Guy's Hospital, and his assistant Dr Rces, received the jar. Professor Taylor made some harsh remarks about it, saying that the contents had been so jolted and shaken on the train journey that the feculent matter from the intestines and the liquid contents of the stomach were all mixed together. He judged these remains inadequate for the close investigation demanded by Mr Stevens, and telegraphed at once for further organs. This time Dr Monckton and Dr Freer, who took charge of the examination, sent him up, in another sealed jar, the kidneys, part of the liver, the spleen, what remained of the dissected heart and brain, and three teaspoonfuls of blood from the

lungs.

The Stafford Coroner summoned a jury for Thursday, November 29th, at The Talbot Arms Hotel; but all they did that day was to view the body, the inquest being then adjourned until December 5th.

Here, while observing that Dr Palmer showed no fear of strychnine being found, we may express the opinion that it was Newton who pushed Devonshire; Newton who punctured the jar with a lancet; Newton who, when he emptied the stomach, unasked, into the jar, deliberately spilled some of the contents; and Newton who vigorously shook this jar, while Boycott left the carriage at Rugby for refreshment. His motive throughout is clear: to make the strychnia, which he believed Dr Palmer to have administered, less easily discoverable.

Cook was buried on November 30th, not in the family vault near London, but in Rugeley churchyard. Dr Palmer attended the funeral service with Jeremiah Smith. Among the other mourners were Mr Stevens, his son-in-law Mr Bradford, and George Herring, the commission-agent, who grew very angry indeed when he learned from Mr Stevens that Cook had never received the money entrusted to Dr Palmer, and that the betting-book was missing. Yet because the Doctor walked weeping miserably behind the bier, Herring did not have the heart to speak his mind until the funeral was well over—but then found that he had slipped away. Afterwards, Dr Palmer frequented The Talbot Arms bar and stood treat to all the assembled riff-raff, who voted him a jolly good fellow. Of his former friends only Myatt, the saddler, Jeremiah Smith, the solicitor, Ben Thirlby, the chemist, and Samuel Cheshire, the Postmaster, remained loyal. When Dr Palmer complained of being almost universally called a poisoner, Cheshire asked what he could do to clear him of so cruel a suspicion.

'God bless you!' said the Doctor. 'Just keep your eyes and ears open, like a dear fellow!'

On the Sunday evening, December 2nd, Dr Palmer visited Cheshire's house in a pitiable state of anxiety and inquired, in his wife's presence, whether he had heard or seen anything fresh. Cheshire led him into another room and said: 'Billy, if you are tempting me to show you the contents of a sealed letter, that I dare not do.'

' Oh, no,' the Doctor cried, 'you mustn't injure yourself on my account! But I can't sleep of nights for worrying what Professor Taylor will report to Mr Gardiner about that damnable analysis. Though it's true that I've done nothing wrong, what if Mr Stevens should have manufactured evidence against me? He's quite capable of bribing Gardiner's clerk to put poison in Cook's remains and so getting me hanged. No, Sammy! All I ask, all I beg of you on my knees, is that you'll steam open Professor Taylor's letter, and if he says he's found poison, tip me the wink, and I'll give them the slip. I'll ride off to Liverpool and board a vessel for America. You know I could never kill a man, don't you, Sammy ?'

Cheshire weakly consented; and on December 5th, three days later, intercepted and read Professor Taylor's letter to Mr Gardiner, afterwards reporting its gist to the Doctor, whom he found in bed, seriously ill of a liver complaint brought on by his excessive consumption of brandy.

The letter ran:

Guy's Hospital, Tuesday, Dec. 4th, 1855

My dear Sir,

Dr Rees and I have compared the analysis today. We have sketched a report, which will be ready tomorrow or the next day. As I am going to Durham on the part of the Crown in the case of Regina v. Wooler,the report will be in the hands of Dr Rees, No. 26, Albemarle St. 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 the deceased until his death to be drawn up and sent to Dr Rees. We did not find Strychnia, nor Prussic Acid, nor 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, so 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.

I am, Sir,

Yours very truly,

Alfred S. Taylor

Dr Palmer gleefully told Cheshire: 'Of course, they found no poison! And of course, almost every man's stomach has some traces of antimony in it. I'm as innocent as a babe.'

The news afforded him great relief because, in addition to those three grains of strychnine given him by Newton at about eleven o'clock on the Monday night, he had bought six more grains from Messrs Hawkins, another Rugeley chemist, between eleven and twelve on Tuesday morning—also two drachms of Batley's solution of opium, and two drachms of prussic acid. He knew that Mr Stevens had obtained evidence of his purchases from Hawkins' Poison Book. All these drugs, by the way, were found in the Doctor's surgery after his arrest—all, that is, except the strychnine.

While visiting London on December ist, Dr Palmer had taken the precaution of sending a gift-hamper to Mr William Webb Ward, the Stafford Coroner. This contained a 20-lb. turkey, a brace of pheasants, a fine cod, and a barrel of oysrers, and was sent by railway to Mr Ward's private residence at Stoke-on-Trent, without a sender's name. It is understood that Dr Palmer wrote to Mr Ward by the post, but that Mr Ward destroyed the letter in disgust and very correctly sent the hamper to the Stafford Infirmary for the benefit of pauper patients. Whether the patients, rather than the medical staff, enjoyed them, is, however, highly doubtful.

Dr Palmer could never leave well alone. The news of Professor Taylor's findings so elated him that, the next morning, he sent two letters to Stafford by the hand of George Bate. The first was sealed, and addressed to Mr Webb Ward; the second, an open note, ordered Mr France, the poulterer,' to supply the bearer with some nice pheasants and a good hare'.

Bate found a boy who for threepence would take the hamper of game to Mr Ward's house, and delivered the letter to Mr Ward himself at The Dolphin Inn, as he played billiards in the smoking-room. This letter, which Mr Ward at once handed to Captain Hatton, the Chief Constable of Police, bore no date, but ran as follows:

My dear Sir,

I am sorry to tell you that I am still confined to 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 when he died. The chambermaid at The Crown—Master's hotel— can prove this. I also believe that a man by the name of Fisher is coming down to prove that he received some money from Cook at Shrewsbury. Now here Cook could only pay Jeremiah Smith £10 out of the £41 he owed him. Had you not better call Smith to prove this?

And again whatever Professor Taylor may say tomorrow, he wrote from London last Tuesday night to Gardiner, to say: 'We have this day finished our analysis and find no traces of either strychnine, prussic acid, or opium.'

What can beat this from a man like Professor Taylor, if he says tomorrow what he has already said—and Dr Harland's evidence? Mind you, I know and saw it in black and white, what Professor Taylor said to Gardiner, but this is strictly private and confidential; but it is true. As regards the betting-book, I know nothing of it and it is of no good to anyone.

I hope the verdict tomorrow will be that Cook died of natural causes, and thus end it.

Ever yours,

Wm Palmer

The inquest did not, in the event, take place on the next day, being postponed for another week. Since neither of the hampers was returned to him, Dr Palmer concluded that he had the Coroner 'in his breeches' pocket', as the cant saying is, and therefore on Thursday, December 13 th, wrote him another letter. This should have gone in a sealed envelope with a present of money; but finding that he had only a £50 note in his possession, he asked Bate to borrow a 'pony' from Ben Thirlby. Bate went off and presently returned with a £5 note.

At this moment, what he had been dreading for so long, at last happened. A knock sounded at the door; Eliza Tharm opened it, and in came two Sheriff's officers to arrest the Doctor for forgery. Bate was ordered from the room while they performed their duty, but as soon as both had retired downstairs, Dr Palmer summoned him again, put the bank-note in the envelope, and said: 'George, take this to the Coroner at once. Let nobody see you!'

Bate protested: 'Nay, Mister, can't you send someone else? I don't like this hole-and-corner game, indeed I don't, not with the Police in the house.'

'Why, George,' Dr Palmer answered, 'as to this poor fellow Cook, they'll find no poison in him. He was the best pal I ever had in my life—why should I have poisoned him? I'm as innocent as you are, George.'

Bate therefore took the missive which, an hour later, catching Mr Ward on the road between Stafford railway station and The Junction Hotel, he handed to him with a knowing wink. Mr Ward angrily crumpled and thrust it into his pocket. The envelope, when opened, contained no letter, but only the £$ note, and a message scribbled on a piece of newspaper: 'I understand that France, the poulterer, was one pheasant short of my order. This I sincerely regret. W.P.'

The inquest was finally held on the next day, Friday, December 14th. Elizabeth Mills, Lavinia Barnes, Dr Jones, Dr Bamford, who were the principal witnesses, testified that Cook had suffered first from vomiting, and then from tetanic convulsions. Professor Taylor, however, argued that these convulsions were produced by strychnia, even though he and Dr Rees had been unable to find traces of such a drug in the organs sent them for analysis.

'With a nicely calculated dose,' Professor Taylor wrote, 'this was not to be expected, since strychnia is a poison rapidly absorbed into the blood.'

Roberts, assistant to Messrs Hawkins, the chemists, then testified that he had sold Dr Palmer six grains of strychnine on the Tuesday morning. Newton kept quiet about his gift to the Doctor of the earlier three grains; and the eye-witnesses' account of Cook's illness was strictly as we have recorded it in the foregoing chapter.

The Coroner invited Dr Palmer to give evidence, but he sent word that illness prevented him from attending. It has been said, by the way, that the Sheriff's officers prompted this plea, not wanting him to escape.

On the following day the jury retired. Some minutes later, disregarding a plain conflict of testimony; misdirected by the Coroner, who perhaps wished to assure the Police that the proffered bribes had not warped his judgement; and, finally, stirred up by their foreman, Mr Tunnicliffe, Newton's father-in-law, they returned a verdict of 'Wilful Murder' against Dr Palmer.

Captain Hatton, to whom the Coroner had forwarded the incriminating letters, made the arrest. Ben Thirlby was sitting by Dr Palmer's bedside at the time, and felt so convinced of his innocence that he leaped at the Captain and tried to seize him by the throat. 'The charge is wicked and diabolical!' he cried. But the Police officers gave Thirlby a rough handling for his pains. Dr Palmer then summoned Jeremiah Smith, who delayed half an hour before he dared comply, first fortifying himself at The Albion public bar. 'This news makes me feel sick,' said he.

Smith, it should be explained, had fallen in disgrace with old Mrs Palmer on the Monday night—the night on which Newton handed Dr Palmer the three grains of stiychnine. After bidding

Cook good-night, he and Dr Palmer had gone together to The Yard, where the old lady gave them both a terrible brushing down. Having been informed by her son George, the solicitor, that a moneylender wanted him to certify her signature on an acceptance of a bill for two thousand pounds, which he had refused to do, she now charged Smith with drafting this document for her Billy.

'I know well,' she cried, 'that Billy here would never have expected me to pay. This was just his way of tiding himself over a bad situation—but that you aided and abetted him and said never a word to me, I cannot forgive! Be off now, Mr Smith, I don't want to see your treacherous face ever again. It's not even as if you'd been faithful to my bed.'

When Smith at last entered the bedroom, he saw Dr Palmer surrounded by Police officers. Pointing to them, he gasped out: 'William, oh, William, how is dris?'

The Doctor could not answer, but tears trickled down his cheeks.

He was judged unfit to be moved until the next day, when the Police, after examining his house from attic to cellar, and taking close precautions against his attempted escape or suicide, conveyed him in a covered van to Stafford Gaol. He had bidden an affecting good-bye to Eliza Tharm, throwing his arms around her neck, and requited her love with the gift of his last £50 note. Their illegitimate child, by the bye, had died at five weeks old, not long before this: it was sent out to a poor nursing mother near the Canal Bridge at Armitage, three miles from Rugeley, but she neglected her charge.

Samuel Cheshire was presently arrested on a charge of tampering with the Royal Mails. Dr Palmer's letter to Mr Webb Ward provided the Postal Authorities with the necessary evidence and he earned a severe prison sentence.

Chapter XVIII

STAFFORD GAOL

WHILE describing Stafford town, in an earlier chapter, we purposely reserved our account of the ' County Gaol and House of Correction' until this story should reach the point where Dr Palmer entered it as an inmate. It has very much the appearance of a solid, squat brick castle, because of the round towers placed at its four corners, and the steep outer walls which connect them. The pile gives off a glare like the embers of a coal furnace. The principal entrance, however, is built of stone, and we found it quite refreshing to approach its cool shade.

Facing the porter's lodge stands the Governor's house, with a little bit of garden stretched before it; but the grass seems to know that it is prison grass and therefore denied all such luxuries as manure or prepared soil. The beds grow no flowers worthy of notice, and are rich only in flints. A pathway leads thence to the debtors' airing court, a sizeable gravelled square surrounded by white-painted wooden railings; and next to this rises the prison bakehouse from which proceeds a hum of machinery and a grinding noise. The power that turns the millstones is that of a tread-wheel, worked by thirty-two felons, in prison-grey, trudging for an hour at a time up the endless stairs which turn away beneath their feet. Prison officers armed with cudgels discourage the rebellious or the laggardly from a neglect of their task. The result is both a sensation of health produced by wholesome exercise, which many of the felons are taking for the first time in then-disorderly lives, and a large quantity of flour—not perhaps of the highest quality, yet passed as fit for human consumption. Through the bakehouse windows may be seen great stacks of bread, baked into slabs three inches thick, which are then sawn into yard lengths and piled together in orderly fashion, like planks of rare timber at a cabinet-maker's shop. Square loaves, such as free men eat, are suspect as serving to conceal such forbidden objects as bottles of

spirits, rope-ladders, and weapons of destruction, smuggled in with the grain.

When Dr Palmer reached the Gaol, he still felt ill; and, immediately donning nightcap and nightshirt, went to bed again. Major Fulford, the Governor, took advantage of this removal of his clothes to remove them even farther, fearing that poison might be concealed in them. He ordered another suit to be made for Dr Palmer, not of prison-grey, since he was not yet a convict, but of a sober broadcloth. However, he declined to wear these new clothes, insisting that the Governor had no right to force them on him, and that they were badly cut. His wilfulness convinced the prison officers that poison must surely lurk in the seams or corners of coat, waistcoat or trousers; two or three grains of prussic acid or strychnine would, of course, suffice to end his life. When, a fortnight later, his own clothes were at last returned, every garment had been searched with a fine comb and beaten hard to dislodge any powder. All the seams had also been opened; all the buttons examined lest one of them should serve as a miniature poison-box; the heels unfastened from his boots, lest these too should serve as receptacles for poison, and put back after careful scrutiny.

Much as Dr Palmer hated sleeping alone, almost more he hated being cut off from the racing news; but the Governor had strong views on the subject of horse-racing and gambling and let him read no newspaper which contained any talk of 'form' and 'odds'. In his despondency, Dr Palmer determined on self-destruction. No easy means offered, however, since he might use neither knife nor fork for his meals, ate off a tin plate and drank from a tin mug. He therefore resolved on starvation, simply sipping a little water from time to time, and lying motionless in bed, his face turned towards the wall. The Governor, during his usual morning visit, became alarmed by this behaviour, and tried to argue him into eating. Dr Palmer replied courteously that he was not hungry, and wanted nothing. Since, by the seventh day of this obstinate abstention from food, his prisoner had lost a stone of weight and seemed in danger of making good his resolve, the Governor had a savoury bowl of soup prepared, and sent for a spoon and a stomach-pump.

He told Dr Palmer that, according to the prison doctor, his pulse was regular, his looks those of a healthy man, and there seemed no reason why he should not partake of this succulent soup.

'It's only that I have no appetite for coarse food,' Dr Palmer murmured faintly.

'Then, Sir,' cried the Governor, 'you shall choose between this spoon and that other instrument! I don't care a fig (let me be frank) whether you live or die, except in so far as my own appointment is concerned. But if I pander to your desire for self-extinction, my superiors will punish me severely; which I do not intend to happen. You have five minutes to decide whether you will drain your bowl, or oblige me to take compulsory measures. In the latter case, I shall summon a force of officers, of whom I have fifty at my orders, wedge open your jaws, drop the tube of this pump down the gullet, and pretty soon soup will be warming your stomach. It is by no means the pleasantest way of eating, but what other recourse have I?'

Dr Palmer said: 'I had not considered, Sir, that my loss of appetite might endanger your appointment here. And though I don't welcome your poor opinion of me—which I find unbecoming when I'm not yet pronounced guilty, and won't be, neither— nevertheless, if you insist, I'll consent to drink the damned beverage with your greasy spoon.'

He gave no further trouble in this respect, beyond asking one day that meals might be sent to him from his own kitchen. The Governor refused this, for fear poison might be conveyed in the dishes, but told him that he was at liberty to order what victuals he pleased, within reason, for cooking in the debtors' kitchen. 'Ah, but it's not the same,' sighed Dr Palmer. 'Your prison cooks murder good food.'

'I trust at least that they do not poison it,' tartly retorted the Governor.

Meanwhile, numerous bills fell due which Dr Palmer could not, and old Mrs Palmer would not, meet. One morning Mr Wright, a solicitor from Birmingham, arrived at Dr Palmer's house and demanded admittance in virtue of a bill of sale to the amount of £10,400 given by Palmer some six months before for his horses, furniture, and all other movable property.

Mr Bergen, the Rural Superintendent of Police, who was now charged with safeguarding the papers, drugs, and other contents of the house, refused to admit Mr Wright; however, one of Mr Wright's men presently gained an entry by breaking a pane of glass in the scullery window and unlatching it. Once inside the house, the Law protected Mr Wright, and arrangements were soon made for selling off the Doctor's effects by public auction.

We gather from Mrs Bennett, a next-door neighbour whose husband is a shoemaker, that if it had been Prince Albert's own sale there couldn't have been more folks about. They flocked in from Birmingham and all around, coming only to gaze, not to buy. The sale, according to the catalogue, should have occupied three days, but was got over in ten hours.

'The business was altogether too hurried,' Mrs Bennett told us. 'If the things had been brought out into the open air they would have fetched more; but the auctioneer didn't allow the bidders time. It was along of the crowds that tramped through the house and prevented dealers from examining the articles at leisure. Nobody could see what was what, and the auctioneer wanted to get done quickly; even so, a mort of small things got stolen as souvenirs. The books, most of them new and up to date, were almost given away. And the furniture was beautiful!'

Mr Fawcus, a cabinet-maker, who stood waiting for Mr Bennett to finish cobbling a pair of boots, agreed with Mrs Bennett. 'Yes, Sir, the furniture was very good indeed, and not merely the pieces that I made at his orders according to Sheraton's models. I know he paid forty guineas for a sideboard—that's large money —and sixteen for a chiffonier. He had excellent taste in furniture.'

Mrs Bennett fetched us the catalogue: Contents of drawing-room: one fine-toned semi-grand pianoforte in rosewood by a celebrated London maker.'Poor Mrs Palmer used to accompany herself on that, while singing Thomas Moore's Irish Songs,' Mrs Bennett said.' She had a sweet voice. But the pianoforte went for a song—no joke intended.'

Rosewood couch with spring seat, squab and pillow in blue damask, and six elegant rosewood chairs in suite. 'My work,' said Mr Fawcus. 'Bought at the sale by Mr Bergen, the Rural Superintendent of Police, whose daughter took a fancy to them. He'd have bidden up to the original price, he would, but there was no competition —there isn't likely to be when Mr Bergen bids—so he got them cheap, and afterwards told me: "Fawcus, these people here, they don't know good stuff when they see it." He's a very knowing gentleman.'

Handsome mahogany bookcase, six foot by nine foot long, with plate-glass and sliding shelves. 'That went at a better price to the Hon.

Mr Curzon's steward.' Pair of handsome chimney-glasses. 'Those were in the same lot,' remarked Mr Fawcus, 'big as chimney-pots, and real cut crystal.'

Contents of best bedroom: handsome German bedstead with panelled footboard, carved cornice andfringe, andfigured damask hangings. 'Ah,' said Mrs Bennett, ' that's where poor Mrs Palmer bore her unfortunate children, and where she died, and where the Doctor was lying when arrested.'

'It's a good deal too heavy and fanciful for my taste,' confessed Mr Fawcus, 'but then I'm English, as you see. It was old Mrs Palmer's wedding gift to the Doctor, and she bought it back. I think she wished to show that she hasn't lost faith in her son, despite all the ugly rumours.'

'Which I don't believe, neither,' cried Mrs Bennett, 'whatever the Coroner may say, and the Judge, and the jury, and Captain Hatton, and Mr Bergen and all! It made my ears burn to hear some of the comments, dropped by those ill-mannered Birmingham folks as they roamed the house. They'd whisper: "That's where the wicked devil used to sleep with his mistresses." And when they came to the surgery, the remarks they passed about the bottles there was perfectly sinful!'

Contents of dining-room: eight fine Elizabethan carved oak chairs with seats upholstered in purple plush velvet. Also two valuable oil paintings: 'Charles Marlow, the jockey, with Nettle' and ‘Goldfinder’, Winner of the Queens Plate at Shrewsbury''Twenty-five shillings a chair, just imagine!' exclaimed Mr Fawcus, 'originally purchased by the Doctor for four guineas, and a bargain at that! And the pictures went for five shillings, the frames alone being worth a guinea.'

'All that I bought,' said Mrs Bennett, 'was a nice deal box containing fishing tackle and pills. The Police didn't seem to mind the pills being sold and, of course, I burned them in the grate to keep them out of the children's clutches. "A box of fishing tackle is a funny place to put pills in," the auctioneer told us. But the tackle was a bargain at a shilling. My husband enjoys his bit of fishing of a Sunday afternoon, and the box was handy for garden tools.'

'The only fair prices were paid for the Doctor's cellar,' chimed in Mr Fawcus. 'He had 222 gallons of home-brewed ale, according to the catalogue, 67 dozen of port, and 43 gallons of spirit. A very fine cellar for so abstemious a man. It never occurred to the innkeepers who bid for them that every bottle might contain rank poison; they were a deal less suspicious than the officers at Stafford Gaol.'

We strolled round to the back of the house, where the garden stretches—half an acre of land 'in very good fettle,' as Mr Fawcus called it. The low hedge dividing the courtyard from the garden has been carefully clipped, and the small garden in front of the house, with a little pile of imitation rock to spruce it up, is thoroughly well tended. Though we noticed at least six beds of leeks and spring onions, a patch about the size of his drawing-room carpet was all the space Dr Palmer devoted to flowers. The beds, cut out of the turf in curious shapes, such as stars and lozenges, contained only a few pinks and wallflowers.

We came across a well-built stable and coach-house with a pear-tree trained against the brick wall facing the noon sun, and a horseshoe nailed to the door. The large tank is of slate and clean rainwater flows into it for horses' drinking—soft water improves their health. In one corner, next a pigsty, a manure tank is sunk, into which the slush of the stable and piggery formerly drained; there being a pump to raise the liquid as it was required for the cultivation of vegetables. All these improvements to the property had been added by Dr Palmer.

Following the kitchen garden path, where clothes poles and the cord along them formed a kind of telegraph, we found a fine rhubarb bed, behind which grew forty gooseberry and currant bushes, all neatly pruned. And beyond these, we suddenly came on a gendeman in check coat and trousers sitting on an upturned oyster barrel. He rose and addressed us in a hoarse Manchester accent, pressing upon us a tradesman's card which we reproduce on the following page.

We thanked Mr Allen, but informed him that another day would suit us better. 'Oh, that's all right, bless you, Sir,' he said, 'I don't want for custom. The number of fashionably dressed folks who journey over here from the surrounding districts for a sight of Dr Palmer's house, barred and empty as it is, still astounds me. It's early yet for the rush, which don't commence much before noon. I do very well indeed from them, and take their portraits standing gainst the stable door, with one hand on the pear-tree to steady 'em. Yes, Sir, 'tis a superb place for my trade.

Dr Palmer's creditors had all gathered together like a flock of vultures, and on January 21st, 1856, his broodmares, horses in training and yearlings, came up for auction. We were present to witness that interesting occasion.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

For a Fortnight Photographic Portraits ★

C. Allen

Respectfully informs the Ladies, Gentry& Inhabitants of Rugeley and elsewhere that he can produce A Very Superior Photographic Portraitin gilt and other frames FROM ONE SHILLING TO ONE GUINEA and invites their patronage at the rear of PREMISES LATELY OCCUPIED BY W. PALMER

★

Specimens may be seen at Mr James's, Bookseller ★

Commencing at 10 o'clock Mornings until 6 in the Evening. Rugeley, June 2nd, 1856 ★

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At Hyde Park Corner, close to where carriages and horsemen enter the Park, and where the mob stands roaring and screaming to see Her Majesty the Queen drive by in her landau—not far, in fact, from Decimus Burton's Arch topped by that formidable equestrian statue of the late Field-Marshal the Duke of Wellington—you will find Tattersall's Ring, the sanctum sanctorumof all Turfites. It is a haunt as familiar to the young Yorkshire tyke as to the finest swell in London: a name as suggestive of good faith, honour, prompt payments, splendid horseflesh and noble company as it is of swindling, robbery, non ests, defaulting, levanting, screws and blackguards.

There's a sporting air hangs about 'The Corner', from the red-jacketed touts who hang around its entrance to the shrewd cast of the auctioneer's countenance. We went down the yard, already filling at the news that Dr Palmer's nags would come under the hammer, and hundreds who had no intention whatever of bidding, were assembled there through curiosity. Here they stood: gentle and simple, young and elderly, peers of the Realm, gentry, tradesmen and legs. That lanky old man with the fine aristocratic face, and neck swathed in the thick white choker, is a clergyman, and as thorough a sportsman as ever stepped; nor are his sermons any the worse for that. The dirty little man in the brown coat is a viscount, exceedingly rich but so mean that he is said to go through the refuse bins outside his former club, from which he has been ejected, searching avidly for remnants of lobster and crayfish, which he grudges to buy for himself. Yonder goes the 'Leviathan' of the Ring, Bill Davies, tall and thin, dressed entirely in black, with a blue speckled handkerchief about his throat. He started life as a carpenter, and his word is now good for £50,000; beside him walks young Frank Swindell, another commission-agent, wearing a bunch of early violets in his buttonhole. Both of them have made the same discovery, that, in the long run, straight dealing pays even in the betting ring. Since they scorn 'daylight robbery', which is to encourage betters to lay money on dead 'uns—horses that will never run—engineers of dirty work no longer trouble to approach them.

Tattersall's stables are the acme of neatness and cleanliness. Here to the right is the Subscription Room, into which we might not go; instead we visited a public house mainly frequented by little grooms and jockeys, and listened to their gossip. 'The Rugeley Poisonings' were all the talk, and feeling ran high, the sporting fraternity being about equally divided between pro's and con's. Some swore that Billy Palmer was a bold sportsman, a good loser, and a generous friend; others that he was Ananias, Cain and Judas Iscariot rolled into one.

'He's far lower than an animal, and worth a deal less,' cries a ferret-faced stableboy to Young Ashmole the jockey, 'and I'll undertake to prove it—at even money in half-sovereigns!'

'Done,' Young Ashmole answers, 'let the landlord hold the stakes and be umpire.'

'Well,' says Ferret Face, 'Palmer was denied entrance to Tattersall's, now wasn't he? And a horse is an animal, isn't it? Well, there's seventeen of his horses admitted today where he wasn't, and a couple of 'em will sell for well over five hundred guineas, and none for lower than fifty. Well, what's Palmer worth now? There's bills for fifteen thousand pounds out against him, and ten thousand of 'em won't be met. And as for his life, I wouldn't back his chances to live the year out, not at a hundred to one.'

Young Ashmole, defeated by this crude logic, which satisfied the landlord and raised loud cheers at the bar, paid up sulkily; but, having done so, he soused Ferret Face with a mug of beer full in his grinning phiz.

Bidding at the auction was spirited, and very high prices were realized. Prince Albert's name has already appeared in our account of the other auction, if only as a metaphor; here we heard it used in a direct and practical manner. For Major Grove, Her Majesty's Commissioner from the Royal Paddocks, bought Trickstress, an eight-year-old mare, for 230 guineas on Prince Albert's behalf. Strange to relate, though the Major appeared anxious to secure Nettle, a decidedly superior animal, in the end he let her go to Mr F. L. Popham for 430 guineas. (Nettle, it will be recalled, was favourite for the Oaks last year, and her tumble over the chains sealed Dr Palmer's financial doom.) The Chicken went for 800 guineas to Mr Harlock, who has since changed her name to 'Vengeance'. In the aggregate, the sale amounted to £3,906, which included the high price of 590 guineas for a three-year-old filly, by Melbourne out of Seaweed, which fell to Mr Sargent.

While Dr Palmer was attempting suicide by starvation, the bodies of his wife and brother were exhumed, and Coroner's inquests held on them. In the first case, Annie Palmer's, the gaseous exudations of the corpse had, since the fifteen months of burial, escaped through the fibre of the oaken coffin and left the corpse comparatively dry. Dr Monckton made the post-mortemexamination, and again the organs were sent to Professor Taylor, who reported antimony in the stomach, liver and kidneys and judged that death was due to this antimony administered in the form of tartar emetic, and to no other cause. The jury found Dr Palmer guilty of wilful murder.

Exceptionally distressing was the post-mortemdone on Walter Palmer s body. He had been buried in a lead coffin and, the wooden shell being removed, a hole was bored through the lid. At once a most noxious effluvia permeated the entire Talbot Inn. Fifteen of the persons present, including seven of the jury, were seized with nausea, and some of them remained seriously indisposed for the next two or three days. The lid being opened, the corpse wore a terrible aspect, being a mass of corruption, dropsy and gangrene. Professor Taylor was inclin ed to think that death was caused by prussic acid, though he could find no trace of the poison in the organs sent him for analysis; and though Dr Day, who had signed the death certificate, testified that he had not smelt the telltale fumes of prussic acid on the dying man's breath, but only those of brandy! Dr Day stood firmly by his original opinion that death was due to apoplexy, consequent on excessive drinking. Since Drs Monckton, Harland, Campbell, Hughes and Waddell supported Dr Day, Professor Taylor felt it wise not to press his view.

Nevertheless, when the case came before the Coroner, the jury, instigated by Mr Hawkins, the chemist, who had been chaffed a good deal for having supplied Dr Palmer with enough poison to destroy the whole parish, brought in yet another verdict of wilful murder. Walter's widow, Mrs Agnes Palmer, had attended the Court, but was so broken by grief that the Coroner led her to a private room where he took her evidence in the presence of the Foreman and the Clerk. Among others who appeared were George Palmer, the solicitor, who told the Court: 'Mr Hawkins feels rancour towards my brother, and will, I am sure, find him guilty of murder whatever the evidence. At my brother's sale, Mr Hawkins bought a medical book, to use against him when he comes to be tried on the equally false charge of poisoning his friend, the late Mr Cook.'

Pratt, the moneylender, was also called, because he held Walter Palmer's life insurance policy as collateral security for Dr Palmer's debts to him, and because he had approached the insurance companies on the Doctor's behalf; which led him to be suspected of complicity in the supposed murder. The Coroner and jury asked him searching questions; denounced his rate of interest—sixty per cent a year—as usurious; and treated him so roughly that at last he screamed in falsetto, tears of rage streaming down his plump face: 'How can you ask such questions of a family man with three young children and a dear wife, who will probably be ruined by this affair? I lost over four thousand pounds through Palmer!'

The Court burst into loud laughter.

This, however, was not yet the end of the matter, for at the next Stafford Assizes the Grand Jury threw out the bill against Dr Palmer for wilful murder of his brother Walter, finding the evidence insufficient.

Now, if it is asked why Professor Taylor had been so ready to name prussic acid as the cause of dcadi, the answer is clear. A detective, employed by Mr Stevens to make inquiries at Wolverhampton, discovered that on the Monday before Walter's death, while the race-meeting was in progress there, the Doctor had visited a chemist's shop and bought a quantity of prussic acid and jalap from the assistant. Mr Stevens acquainted Professor Taylor with this news, and the evidence which the assistant gave at the inquest, supporting Professor Taylor's seemingly unaided diagnosis, prompted the verdict of wilful murder. But George Palmer prudently took the precaution of checking the Poison Book and found no entry, on the date concerned, referring to prussic acid. He then threatened to indict the assistant for perjury—a crime which carries the statutory punishment of transportation—if he would not publicly withdraw his statement. This the young man hastened to do, though transportation has, of course, been suspended since 1846, when the authorities of Van Diemen's Land, overwhelmed by a horde of idle and depraved convicts, far outnumbering the free settlers, begged the Government to send no more. The probability is that the assistant had made Dr Palmer a present of the prussic acid, just as Newton did; and that the Doctor intended to use it on other owners' horses—for it can at least be said that he always ran his own to win.

While held in Stafford Gaol, Dr Palmer was only once allowed outside the building. On January 21st, policemen escorted him to Westminster where he appeared as a witness at a trial in which Padwick, the moneylender, was plaintiff, and old Mrs Palmer defendant. (This, it will be recalled, was the day artfully chosen by the managers of Tattersall's to put the 'all-yellow' horses under the hammer; the coincidence excited high bidding.) Padwick was trying to recover a £2,000 loan, in the form of a bill which apparently bore old Mrs Palmer's acceptance. She denied the handwriting, and was supported in this by three of her children: Mr George Palmer, the Rev. Thomas Palmer, and Miss Sarah Palmer. The dramatic appearance of Dr Palmer, who had presented the bill to Padwick, caused quite a stir. The door of the Judge's private room was thrown open and he entered, cool and collected, in the custody of a large and muscular police officer. From the witness box he leisurely surveyed the crowded audience, to some of whom he gave a familiar nod, before fixing his attention on a person located between him and the learned counsel who conducted Mrs Palmer's case. This was a young red-haired woman, believed to have been the same Jane Widnall, or Smirke, lately-returned a widow from Australia, who had first seduced him from the narrow path of virtue. She afterwards applied for a seat at the murder trial, but the demand being too great, failed of her expectation.

Dr Palmer was then sworn and answered the following questions in a low, yet firm and distinct voice, without betraying the least hesitation or nervousness.

MR EDWIN JAMES (handing him the bill of exchange).Is the signature 'William Palmer' as the drawer of this bill in your handwriting?

DR PALMER. Yes.

MR JAMES. And you applied to Padwick to advance you money on it?

DR PALMER. I did.

MR JAMES. Who wrote Mrs Sarah Palmer's acceptance on it?

DR PALMER. Ann Palmer.

MR JAMES. Who is she?

DR PALMER. She is now dead.

MR JAMES. Do you mean your wife?

DR PALMER. Yes.

MR JAMES. Did you see her write it?

DR PALMER. Yes.

A shudder went through the audience. That a man should accuse his dead wife of a crime which he had himself forced upon her, seemed a heartless proceeding; yet, she being dead and past caring, his chief concern was to preserve his mother's esteem. She had assured Jeremiah Smith that 'my Billy would never seek to rob me', nor was she disappointed; his honest confession of fraud now saved her two thousand pounds, for Mr Padwick's Counsel saw no course open to him but retirement from the case. The jury found in favour of old Mrs Palmer, and the prisoner was hurried back to Euston Square station.

It is an ironical circumstance that Mr Padwick, half an hour earlier, had purchased two of the Doctor's horses: a bay yearling colt, by Touchstone out of the Duchess of Kent, at 230 guineas; and a brown yearling filly, by Touchstone out of Maid o' Lyme, at 250 guineas. He swore that had he known how the case would go, he'd never have 'bought hoof or hair of that twister's bloodstock'.

Chapter XIX

UNRELIABLE WITNESSES

DR PALMER'S younger brothers, George the solicitor, and Thomas the Anglican clergyman, had cooled off considerably towards him of late years; yet kept the peace to please old Mrs Palmer. Since she never disguised her fondness for 'my roguish Billy', they did not vex her by evincing their repugnance for him; in part, no doubt, because she was worth some seventy thousand pounds, but principally because she was their mother. When the Police arrested the Doctor on a charge of murder, they at once rallied to his defence. Neither of them, from their long experience of him, could bring himself to believe in the charge; nor, being respectable citizens, would they consent to be known as the brother of a murderer, without doing everything that might he in their power to wipe out this stigma. Old Mrs Palmer, though repudiating the debts which Dr Palmer had incurred in her name, promised to engage the best lawyers available.

George secured Mr John Smith of Birmingham—the famous 'Honest John Smith of Brum'—as solicitor for the Defence, and consulted with him as to what leading Counsel should be retained. John Smith swore that the most suitable man in all England would be Mr Serjeant Wilkins, Q.C., who had enjoyed a medical education until taking to the Law, and could therefore confidently handle the abstruse evidence expected. Serjeant Wilkins agreed to act; and appeared for them in January when, in the suit brought by Padwick, Dr Palmer admitted having forged his mother's acceptances to the bills—but, three weeks before the trial, he threw up his brief, pleading ill health. In point of fact, we understand, the duns were after him; and it was with difficulty that he escaped by fishing-smack to Dieppe. This came as a great disappointment to John Smith. Having failed to secure the services of Sir Frederick Thesiger, who had been Attorney-General during the Peel administration, he fell back on an Irishman, Mr Serjeant Shee,

Q.C., M.P. for Kilkenny. Serjeant Shee, though an able barrister is, however, a devout Roman Catholic.

More than a quarter of a century has elapsed since the disabilities from which Romanists suffered in Britain were removed by Act of Parliament, but a strong prejudice against them still undeniably pervades public life. Mr Smith dared not hope that the jury would remain ignorant of Serjeant Shee's faith (this anti-Catholic sentiment being particularly rife among London tradespeople of the Roundhead tradition), if only because he had been

prominent as an advocate of Emancipation, and had of late spoken very forcibly in Parliament on the subject of the late potato famine in Ireland and the absentee Protestant landlords. Yet this prejudice seemed unlikely to affect the Bench. True, Lord Chief Justice Campbell, a Scottish 'son of the manse', had read Divinity, rather than Law, at St Andrews University, and might well regard all Roman Catholics as eternally damned. But Mr Baron

Alderson was known as a humane judge, anxious to restrict capital punishment, and Mr Smith counted on him and Mr Justice Cresswell, to restrain the Lord Chief Justice if he showed undue animus towards either Serjeant Shee or the prisoner.

Nevertheless, the Usher of the Central Criminal Court assured us on the first day of the trial: 'Sir, Dr Palmer will swing, you may be bound.'

Upon our questioning him, we were told familiarly: 'I know Jack Campbell's hanging face well, and his hanging manner.'

"What is that?' we asked.

'His hanging face, Sir, is bland and benignant, and his hanging manner unctuous. As soon as the prisoner entered the dock and Lord Campbell invited him to be seated, I would have offered long odds against his chances of life.'

'But it takes twelve good and true men to hang a criminal,' we insisted, 'and there are a couple of other judges on the bench beside the Lord Chief Justice.'

He shook his head sagely.' Sir Cresswell Cresswell is a humane and honest man,' he pronounced, 'but Alderson would as lief hang Shee as he would Palmer. Those two legal gentlemen have always been at loggerheads, I can't say why—it may be a political disagreement, it may be a personal one. Moreover, Attorney-General Cockburn is a beloved compatriot of Jack Campbell's, and he's out to destroy Palmer. Even if the pair of them weren't as thick as thieves, it would take a mighty firm Lord Chief Justice to handle a determined Attorney-General. Cocky, you know, is due for his judgeship any day now and wishes to make this a memorable farewell to the Bar—a savages' feast day with fireworks, drums, bloody sacrifices and all. So that's three of them teamed together—Jack Campbell, Alderson and Cocky! They can do what they list, for the Under-Sheriffs have a hand-picked jury ready to serve them. Will you dare lay against Palmer's conviction?'

'I'm not a betting man,' was our cautious answer.

The twelve-day trial, which opened on May 14th, 1856, was memorable not only for brilliant forensic displays by the prosecuting and defending Counsel, but also, as we shall not hesitate to point out, for a singular conflict of evidence and surprising irregularities in judicial procedure.

On the opening day the Attorney-General promised to show that Dr Palmer was financially interested in murdering John Parsons Cook, and that, having weakened his system with tartar emetic both at Shrewsbury and at Rugeley, he purchased strychnia at the latter town and administered it in the form of pills, substituting these for the rhubarb, calomel and morphia pills which Dr Bamford had prescribed. No strychnia had been found in Cook's body, yet the Attorney-General insisted (with leave from Professor Taylor) that strychnia, being rapidly absorbed into the system, evades detection in the tissues of its victim, and that Cook's symptoms were consistent with strychnine poisoning.

The first witness called was Mr Ishmael Fisher, the sporting wine merchant, whom we can hardly describe as unprejudiced, since Dr Palmer had defrauded him of two hundred pounds. He testified forcibly to Cook's suspicion of having been poisoned at The Raven Hotel; and was followed by other members of his sporting party, none of whom, since reading about the verdicts at the inquests on Annie and Walter Palmer, and on Cook, wished to be known as the prisoner's friends or supporters.

Next appeared Elizabeth Mills, formerly chambermaid at The Talbot Arms Hotel, Rugeley, a sharp-featured young woman, wearing a fashionable bonnet. Her account of events varied to a great extent from the depositions she had made before the Coroner. She now reported fresh and striking symptoms, hitherto undisclosed; and it came back to her that she had tasted Cook's bowl of broth and found herself severely poisoned by it. The Prosecution sought to prove that these vital matters must also have appeared in her depositions, had the Coroner's inquest been properly conducted.

Serjeant Shee's cross-examination of this flighty miss on the second day proves, to our satisfaction at least, how successfully Mr Stevens had contrived to suborn her. She was, it seems, shown an account of the recent atrocity at Leeds (where a Mr Dove poisoned his wife with strychnine), and then asked to remember the same medical particulars in Cook's case.

The following is a somewhat abbreviated record of Elizabeth Mills's disingenuous answers to Serjeant Shee's questions:

SERGEANT SHEE. How long did you stay at The Talbot Arms Hotel

after Cook's death?

MILLS. Till the day after Christmas-day. Then I went home.

SERJEANT SHEE. Where is 'home'?

MILLS. Shelton, in the Potteries.

SERJEANT SHEE. Have you been in service since?

MILLS. Yes, as chambermaid at Dolly's Hotel, Paternoster Row.

SERJEANT SHEE. Are you in service there now?

MILLS. NO. I stayed only six weeks; until February.

SERJEANT SHEE. After you came to London, did you see Mr Stevens?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. Where and when did you see him?

MILLS. At Dolly's, about a week later.

SERJEANT SHEE. How many times?

MILLS. Perhaps four or five.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will you swear it was not ten times?

MILLS. It might be six or seven; that was about the outside. I cannot

exactly keep account. . .

SERJEANT SHEE. Where at Dolly's did you see him?

MILLS. Sometimes he would speak to me while Mrs Dewhurst, the landlady, was there, in one of her sitting-rooms.

SERJEANT SHEE. But sometimes you went into a sitting-room and

spoke to him alone? MILLS. Perhaps twice or three times.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was it always about Mr Cook's death that he spoke to you?

MILLS. No, it was not. He would call to see how I liked London, and

whether I was well in health, and all that.

SERJEANT SHEE. Mr Stevens is a gentleman, not in your station. Do

you mean to say he called so often to inquire after your health ?

MILLS. That, and to see whether I liked the place.

SERJEANT SHEE. He called six or seven times on you to see whether

you liked the place: do you mean to tell that to the jury on your

oath?

MILLS. I am not going to take my oath: but when he called on me he

always asked how I liked London.

SERJEANT SHEE. Then what did he call about?

MILLS. Sometimes one thing, sometimes another.

SERJEANT SHEE. What else besides Mr Cook's death?

MILLS. Nothing besides that.

SERJEANT SHEE. Had you conversed with him much at The Talbot

Arms while he was lodging there just before the funeral?

MILLS. Some little.

SERJEANT SHEE. Had you never been in a room with him alone at The

Talbot Arms?

MILLS. NO.

SERJEANT SHEE. At Dolly's Hotel he spoke to you about Mr Cook's death and your health, and your liking for London, but nothing else; is that so ? On your oath, did he speak to you about anything else?

MILLS. Yes, many more things.

SERJEANT SHEE. What else?

MILLS. I cannot remember.

SERJEANT SHEE. Tell me a single thing of importance that he spoke to

you about except Mr Cook's death?

MILLS. I do not keep such things in my head for weeks or months

together.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you not say to him after he had been calling two or three times: 'Why, Mr Stevens, you have been here often enough; I have told you all I know'?

MILLS. NO, I did not.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did he give you money during the time you were there? MILLS. Never a farthing.

SERJEANT SHEE. Has he promised to get you a place?

MILLS. Not at all.

SERJEANT SHEE. When did you talk to him last?

MILLS. On Tuesday at Dolly's Hotel.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was Mr Cook's death still the subject of his talk?

MILLS. He merely said 'How do you do?', and asked me how I was;

plenty more were present.

SERJEANT SHEE. Does he live at Dolly's ?

MILLS. He may do, for aught I know.

SERJEANT SHEE. Where was it at Dolly's you saw him last Tuesday ?

MILLS. In a sitting-room.

SERJEANT SHEE. Were you alone with him?

MILLS. No.

SERJEANT SHEE. Who else was there?

MILLS. Lavinia Barnes, of The Talbot Arms.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did she have a place at Dolly's too ?

MILLS. She is working there now.

SERJEANT SHEE. So Mr Stevens had an interview with you and Lavitna Barnes ?

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I beg your pardon, the witness has not said so; do not put an ambiguous phrase into her mouth.

LORD CAMPBELL. If you repeat what she says, you must repeat it correctly.

SERJEANT SHEE. What am I to call it, my Lord, but an interview? Was there a meeting between him and you and Lavinia Barnes in the same room?

MILLS. There were two other gentlemen in the room besides us three.

SERJEANT SHEE. Who?

MILLS. Captain Hatton and Mr Gardiner.

SERJEANT SHEE. On this occasion, was all the talk about Mr Cook's death?

MILLS. I cannot remember; it might be mentioned. I don't pretend

to keep in my head what the conversation was.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will you undertake to say there was no single subject

of conversation mooted between you and Lavinia Barnes and those

gentlemen except the subject of Cook's death?

MILLS. There were many more things talked about.

SERJEANT SHEE. What?

MILLS. That I do not wish to mention.

SERJEANT SHEE. You must mention what was the subject of conversation.

MILLS. I cannot remember. They were not talking with me alone, but among themselves; I paid no attention to what they were talking about. Perhaps my thoughts were occupied about something else.

SERJEANT SHEE. They did talk about Mr Cook's death ?

MILLS. They might, but I cannot remember.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did they talk about the evidence that you were to

give at this trial?

MILLS. No; not that I heard.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did they read your depositions over to you, those

taken before the Coroner?

MILLS. No, they did not.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was anything read to you from a newspaper?

MILLS. No.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did Mr Stevens then, or at any previous time, talk to you about the symptoms which Mr Cook exhibited shordy before his death?

MILLS. He did not.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was that the first time since Mr Cook's death that

you had seen Captain Hatton?

MILLS. No, I had seen him once before. He was dining at Dolly's.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did he speak at all about Mr Cook's death to you ?

MILLS. He might, but I cannot remember.

SERJEANT SHEE. Do not tell me you cannot remember: what did he speak to you about? Did he, upon your oath, speak to you about Mr Cook's death?

MILLS. I cannot remember. He might do.

SERJEANT SHEE. Do you recollect anything else he said?

MILLS. He asked me how I was, I remember.

SERJEANT SHEE. Had you seen Mr Gardiner before, since Mr Cook's death?

MILLS. Yes. Three or four times.

SERJEANT SHEE. Where?

MILLS. I have met him in the street.

SERJEANT SHEE. Spoken to him?

MILLS. Merely said 'How do you do?', or 'Good morning'.

SERJEANT SHEE. YOU have not been to any attorney's office with him?

MILLS. NO.

SERJEANT SHEE. YOU left Dolly's in February. Where are you living now?

MILLS. At Rugeley, with my mother.

SERJEANT SHEE. Where were you living before that?

MILLS. Among my friends.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was that at Hitchingley?

MILLS. Yes. I have some friends there.

SERJEANT SHEE. Who are they?

MILLS. Friends are friends, I suppose.

SERJEANT SHEE. I do not mean to ask you any rude questions, but that is hardly a proper answer. Do you know a man of the name of Dutton?

MILLS. I do. He is a friend of mine.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was it with him you were living ?

MILLS. I stayed at his cottage a short time.

SERJEANT SHEE. What is Mr Dutton?

MILLS. A friend of mine: a labouring man of some thirty perhaps. I

have known him about two years.

SERJEANT SHEE. Is there a Mrs Dutton?

MILLS. Yes, his mother. She lives in the cottage.

SERJEANT SHEE. How many rooms ?

MILLS. Two down and two up.

SERJEANT SHEE. His mother slept in one of the upstairs rooms?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. Where did you sleep?

MILLS. In the bed with her.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will you swear that you always slept in that bed ?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. Why did you leave Dolly's?

MILLS. I did not like the place; it was of my own accord.

SERJEANT SHEE. YOU can read newspapers, I suppose?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. Have you read the case of a Mrs Dove?

MILLS. I do not remember; I may have done so.

SERJEANT SHEE. It is a case that lately occurred at Leeds, of a lady who

was said to have been poisoned by her husband.

MILLS. NO, I did not read it; I heard it spoken of.

SERJEANT SHEE. By whom?

MILLS. By many. I cannot mention one more than another.

SERJEANT SHEE. By Mr Stevens, or Mr Gardiner, or Captain Hatton?

MILLS. No, by no one belonging to this trial.

SERJEANT SHEE. Were you told what the symptoms of Mrs Dove were?

MILLS. I think not; I merely heard it was another strychnine case.

SERJEANT SHEE. Were the symptoms of strychnia ever mentioned to

you by anyone?

MILLS. NO, never.

SERJEANT SHEE. When and to whom did you first use the expression ' twitching', which, with 'jerking', occurred so repeatedly in your evidence yesterday?

MILLS. To the Coroner, I did. Or, if I did not mention 'twitching', I mentioned something to the same effect.

SERJEANT SHEE. It is fair to tell you, as I have the deposition before me, that you did not.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. If you do so, I shall show how these depositions were taken.

SERJEANT SHEE. I intend to put them in. When did you first use the word 'twitching', which you used so frequently yesterday?

MILLS. I cannot remember when first I used the word, but I believe it was in Mother's house before I came to London.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will you swear to that?

MILLS. Yes; and I described the symptoms the young man died under.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will you swear you used the word 'twitching'?

MILLS. Yes; at Mother's.

SERJEANT SHEE. IS your mother here?

MILLS. No, she is not.

SERJEANT SHEE. Have you ever been asked by anybody if there were

not 'twitchings'?

MILLS. I cannot remember.

SERJEANT SHEE. You stated yesterday on oath that on the Saturday between twelve and one o'clock some broth was brought to The Talbot Arms Hotel in a breakfast-cup; that you took it up into Cook's bedroom; that you tasted it, and drank about two tablespoons; that you were sick; that you were sick the whole afternoon, and vomited at least twenty times ?

MILLS. I do not remember that I used the words 'twenty times'.

SERJEANT SHEE. Had you said one word about this sickness in your depositions before the Coroner?

MILLS. It never occurred to me then; it occurred to me three days afterwards.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you state this before the Coroner: 'I tasted the broth on the Sunday before Cook's death; it was not made in this house; I thought the broth very good after I had tasted it; I believe some broth had been sent over on the Saturday; nothing peculiar was in the taste of the broth'?

MILLS. No, I could not taste anything peculiar.

SERJEANT SHEE. If you tasted it, and if it made you sick, and if you vomited frequently in the course of the afternoon, why did you not mention that to the Coroner?

MILLS. It never occurred to me; I did not think it was the broth at the time.

SERJEANT SHEE. You stated yesterday you saw a pill-box in the Hotel on the Monday night, which was sent over there about eight o'clock, wrapped up in paper?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. And that you placed it on the dressing-table of Cook's

bedroom?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. And that on that same evening you saw Palmer in Cook's room between nine and ten o'clock?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you say a word about that before the Coroner? MILLS. I might do.

SERJEANT SHEE. Don't you remember that you made no such statement before the Coroner?

MILLS. Perhaps I was not asked the question; I did not say anything, only when I was asked.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will you now swear he was there between nine and ten o'clock ?

MILLS. Yes; he brought ajar of jelly and opened it.

SERJEANT SHEE. About how long after nine will you swear to his presence there?

MILLS. I cannot remember; I should fancy it was nearer to ten than nine.

SERJEANT SHEE. You say it was half-past ten when you left Cook, but

you cannot recollect whether Palmer was still there?

MILLS. I cannot.

SERJEANT SHEE. Then you have no certain recollection of seeing him

after that time?

MILLS. Not until he was fetched over about midnight.

SERJEANT SHEE. Do you know when Cook took the pills?

MILLS. I do not.

SERJEANT SHEE. You stated yesterday that you asked him on the Tuesday morning what he thought the cause of his illness was. Did he reply: 'The pills which Palmer gave me at half-past ten'?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you tell the Coroner that?

MILLS. No.

SERJEANT SHEE. Since Mr Cook's death, have you been questioned by anyone respecting what you said about these pills before the Coroner?

MILLS. Yes, by a Dr Collier. He came to see me at Hitchingley.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you tell Dr Collier that the gentlemen in London had altered your evidence on that point, and that it was now to be: ' Cook said the pills which Palmer gave him at half-past ten made him ill'?

MILLS. I did not tell him that the gentlemen had altered my evidence. SERJEANT SHEE. Did you say that the evidence had since been altered by anybody?

MILLS. It had been altered by myself since; because Mr Cook's words

had occurred to me.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you say to what gendeman you had given this

information?

MILLS. No, because I did not remember, except that I met him at Dolly's.

SERJEANT SHEE. So an unknown gentleman came to you at Dolly's!

Did he tell you from whom he came?

MILLS. No, he asked: "Will you answer a few questions?' I said:

' Certainly.' He did not tell me his name, neither did I ask it.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did he ask you many questions ?

MILLS. Not very many.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did he write down your answers ?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. But he did not tell you who he was, or whom he

came from, or for what your answers were wanted?

MILLS. No.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did he mention Mr Stevens's name?

MILLS. Yes.

SERJEANT SHEE. What did he say about Mr Stevens?

MILLS. Mr Stevens was with him in the sitting-room; he called Mr

Stevens by name.

SERJEANT SHEE. Why did you not tell us that before?

MILLS. I was not asked. [Laughter in Court.]

We have heard of Judges warning juries to place no reliance on witnesses whose conduct and demeanour were in every way superior to those of Elizabeth Mills; yet the Lord Chief Justice supported her with romantic fervour and characterized Serjeant Shee's suggestion that Mr Stevens paid her money as 'a most foul charge'. The Dr Collier mentioned by Elizabeth Mills had gone, at John Smith's request, to Hitchingley, where he took down her statements. When informed that he was now in Court, Baron Alderson exclaimed angrily: 'Dr Collier should be absent, if he is to be examined for facts. He is here under the false pretence of being a doctor!' Baron Alderson forgot that three doctors called by the Prosecution to be examined for facts were also in Court.

Further evidence that day came from Lavinia Barnes, who docilely supported Mills's new story of having been poisoned after tasting the broth, but otherwise added nothing to the stock of common knowledge; from Dr Jones, Cook's oldest friend, and the only medical eye-witness of his death, who kept to his view that Cook had died of natural causes; from Dr Savage, the London physician, who gave evidence that Cook was in reasonably good health, save for a weakness of the lung, up to a fortnight before his death; and finally from Charles Newton, Dr Salt's assistant.

Newton now testified to having given Dr Palmer three grains of strychnine crystals at nine o'clock on Monday night, November 19th. He also told a most improbable tale about a meeting on Sunday, November 25 th, the eve of the post-mortem examination.

Cross-examined by Mr James, Q.C., for the Prosecution:

JAMES. Do you remember Sunday, the 25th of November?

NEWTON. I do.

JAMES. Where were you at about seven o'clock that evening ?

NEWTON. At Dr Palmer's house.

JAMES. What was the cause of your going there?

NEWTON. I was sent for.

JAMES. Where did you find Palmer when you went, and what was he doing?

NEWTON. He was alone, sitting by the kitchen fire, reading.

JAMES. What did he say to you ?

NEWTON. He asked me how I was, and would I take a little brandy?

JAMES. Did he say anything else to you ?

NEWTON. He asked me: 'What dose of strychnia would be required to kill a dog?' I told him, 'a grain'. He then asked me whether it would be found in the stomach after death.

JAMES. What did you say?

NEWTON. I told him there would be no inflammation, and that I did

not think it would be found.

JAMES. Did he make any remark upon that?

NEWTON. I think he said: 'It is all right,' as if speaking to himself.

Then he did that [snapping his fingers).

Newton's evidence was greeted by a loud clapping of hands in Court, as though he had delivered a telling dramatic speech at Drury Lane. Lord Chief Justice Campbell made no attempt to quell the applause.

Cross-examined by Mr Grove for the Defence:

GROVE. You were examined at the inquest, I think you have stated; did you then say anything either about your conversation with respect to the dog, or about the three grains of strychnia ?

NEWTON. NO, I did not.

GROVE. Did you say anything about the conversation of Cook's suffering from diseased diroat—syphilis? NEWTON. Yes, I did.

GROVE. At the inquest?

NEWTON. I was not questioned there about the post-mortem at all . . .

Re-examined by Mr Attorney-General Cockburn:

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. You have said that you gave information to the Crown on Tuesday about this fact of the three grains of strychnia. How was it you did not give that information before?

NEWTON. On account that Dr Palmer had not been friends with Dr Salt; they never speak to each other.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. What had that to do with it?

NEWTON. I thought Dr Salt would be displeased at my letting Dr Palmer have anything.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. YOU say they did not speak?

NEWTON. No; Mr Thirlby lived with Dr Salt for nineteen years . . .

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Was it in consequence of Mr Thirlby going to Dr Palmer's that this difference took place between Dr Palmer and Dr Salt?

NEWTON. Yes; Dr Salt did not speak to Dr Palmer, or Mr Thirlby either.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Was there any other reason besides that for

your keeping it back?

NEWTON. That was my only reason.

SERJEANT SHEE. Will your Lordship ask this witness whether he has not given another reason: the reason being that he was afraid he should be indicted for perjury?

NEWTON. No, I did not give that as a reason, though I mentioned it to the gentleman sitting there [Mr Greenwood]. I stated that I had heard about a young man from Wolverhampton whom Mr George Palmer had indicted for perjury because this young man could not produce a book to show that he had sold Dr Palmer some prussic acid.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. In what case was that?

NEWTON. The inquest upon Walter Palmer.

The Defence did not challenge Newton's reliability as a witness, but it has since been revealed that he was Ben Thirlby's illegitimate son by one Dorothy Newton of Bell's Yard, Long Row, Nottingham. His half-brother John was sentenced to four years' penal servitude for picking pockets at Lincoln Races; and he himself, as a boy, had been caught breaking up a stolen silver spoon belonging to his employer Mr Crossland, a wine merchant, and thereupon spent three days in the Nottingham House of Correction. The records show that his mother, a charwoman, begged him off from the magistrates who examined the case, promising to make good Mr Crossland's losses. A second offence has been mentioned, but we lack for details. Newton later, after attendance at the National School, assisted a Nottingham surgeon; and was then cunningly insinuated by Ben Thirlby into Dr Salt's employment. Dr Salt did not know of the blood-relationship between these two.

When the trial was over, the same obliging Newton, prompted perhaps by certain insurance company officials, called on the Attorney-General. He said that if Sir George Grey considered granting a reprieve (on the ground that Dr Palmer did not have time to make up the strychnine pills in his own surgery, and then administer them at the hour stated by the Prosecution) he would willingly swear to having given Dr Palmer the strychnine in the form of pills already made up—a fact he had hitherto forgotten! The Attorney-General undertook to bring this new evidence before his fellow-Minister, should Dr Palmer's lawyer sue for a reprieve.

Chapter XX

ABSENT WITNESSES

SERJEANT SHEE'S main ground of defence was that Dr Palmer did not stand to gain financially by John Parsons Cook's death, since it made him liable to repay debts which they jointly incurred, in an amount far exceeding such small sums as the Prosecution accused him of robbing. He had, indeed, bought six grains of stryclinine on the Tuesday morning from Hawkins's shop, openly and for a legitimate reason; Serjeant Shee, however, preferred to deny his having procured any from Newton on the Monday evening. Therefore, the convulsions reported by Elizabeth Mills that night were not, he argued, attributable to strychnine poisoning, but rather to tetanus or epilepsy, or some other ailment, as were also those of the Tuesday night winch carried Cook off early the following morning. Furthermore, had Dr Palmer planned to murder Cook, he would never have sent for his friend, Dr Jones of Lutterworth, an experienced physician, to sleep in the same bedroom and witness his death agonies. Nor would he have dared to rob Cook of the Shrewsbury winnings when Dr Jones was aware of their exact value and when Cook, being perfectly conscious, would have complained to him if Dr Palmer had stolen his hoard.

Upon Newton's testifying that the Doctor asked him one day to describe the effect of strychnine on a dog and say whether its presence in the stomach could afterwards be detected—though having himself, as the Prosecution showed, a precise knowledge of poisons, whereas Newton was young and ignorant—Serjeant Shee, who should have rejected this as an improbable fiction, made the mistake of accepting it in support of his case. The Prosecution had called George Bate (despite Serjeant Shee's protests against the irrelevance of the matter) to give evidence about Dr Palmer's attempted insurance of his life for twenty-five thousand pounds. With this witness in the box, Serjeant Shee now contended that the strychnia was bought at Hawkins's shop to poison certain dogs which, as Bate knew very well, had been worrying the Doctor's broodmares. However, Bate (or so Inspector Field has privately assured us) bore a grudge against Dr Palmer for having plotted his death; and though forced to admit that The Duchess of Kent had slipped her foal, pretended ignorance that the same thing had also happened to Goldfinder ten days before. He would give only artful and evasive answers to any of the questions put by Serjeant Shee, though he had been in charge of the Doctor’s stables at the time of these mischances. Here is a sample of the cross-examination:

SERJEANT SHEE. Can you give me any notion of these mares' value?

BATE. I don't pretend to tell the value of the stock.

SERJEANT SHEE. Do you know that one of them sold for eight hundred

guineas ?

BATE. I have heard so.

SERJEANT SHEE. Were any of them in foal shortly before or at the

beginning of November ?

BATE. I cannot say. I should suppose there were some in foal.

A witness who behaved in this sullen way would have been sternly rebuked by most judges and ordered to give fair and proper answers. But the Lord Chief Justice was seen to smile; and his smile widened as Bate adroitly parried Serjeant Shee's subsequent questions.

SERJEANT SHEE. Had any complaint been made about the dogs going

into the paddock?

BATE. I think I once said to Harry Cockayne: "The turf seems a good

deal cut up here; how is it?'

SERJEANT SHEE. What did you see on the turf that induced you to

make that observation ?

BATE. I saw it cut up, which I supposed to be the horses' feet, for they

couldn't cut it up without they galloped.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you attribute that to anything ?

BATE. Why, yes, I attributed it to the mares' galloping about. [Laughter.]

SERJEANT SHEE. Had you any reason to think they had been run by dogs?

BATE. I never saw any dog run them.

This was no answer to the question, but it much amused the Lord Chief Justice. The exchange continued:

SERJEANT SHEE. Did Harry Cockayne keep a gun in the stable? BATE. I have seen one there.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did he keep a gun, which belonged to his master, for

any purpose?

BATE. I have seen a gun at the paddock.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did it belong to the master?

BATE. I cannot say.

SERJEANT SHEE. Did you ever see it used?

BATE. NO.

SERJEANT SHEE. Was it in a condition to be used?

BATE. I never had it in my hands to examine it.

In the end, Bate stood down without admitting that Dr Palmer had complained about the hounds, or threatened to poison them, or ordered Harry Cockayne to use the gun. According to Harry's belief, Bate had himself revengefully introduced hounds into the paddock; and Harry, if called, could at least have testified to the hounds and the gun. His sworn deposition concerning them, made at the inquest, lay before both the Lord Chief Justice and the Attorney-General. But though Serjeant Shee counted on cross-examining Harry, whom the Prosecution had subpoenaed as a witness, he found himself checkmated. The Crown lawyers kept Harry under their thumb, yet never put him in the witness box; and, as soon as the case for the Prosecution was over, smuggled him out of Court and away to Staffordshire, where Captain Hatton told him to fie low if he knew what was for his advantage.

Serjeant Shee lost two other important witnesses—one of them being Will Saunders, the trainer from Hednesford. When the Grand Jury held the inquest at Stafford, Saunders had deposed on oath that Cook sent for him, on the Monday afternoon, thirty-six hours before his death, gave him ten pounds on account of a £41 6s. debt, and excused himself for not paying the remainder— because of having handed Dr Palmer all his cash to settle urgent business affairs in London. This evidence, collusive though it may well have been, would have decidedly weakened the Crown's case that the Doctor had stolen Cook's money. The Crown lawyers, therefore, engaged Saunders to give evidence on their behalf, refrained from calling him, and then packed him off out of Mr Serjeant Shee's reach.

The third important witness was a man by the name of Allspice, who drove Dr Palmer in a fly from Stafford to Rugeley on the critical Monday evening—the evening when Newton stated that, about nine o'clock, he had freely presented Dr Palmer with three grains of stryclininc. Allspice would have been ready to swear that the train reached Stafford at 8.45; that the Doctor engaged him at The Junction Hotel for the drive to Rugeley; that, on arrival there, at ten minutes past ten, Dr Palmer had gone straight to The Talbot Arms, where Jeremiah Smith was anxiously awaiting him; and had then, after a brief visit to the hotel, returned, paid the fare, and walked away with Smith in the direction of The Yard. Had this been proved, the Crown must needs have abandoned the charge that Dr Palmer was given the strychnia at nine o'clock; took it to his surgery, made it up into pills and, at about half-past ten, administered diesc to Cook in place of Dr Barn-ford's prescription.

Two letters on this point are extant, written by Dr Palmer from Newgate Gaol, where he was being kept during the trial, to Jeremiah Smith. We copy them here verbatim:

Dear Jere,

No man in the world ever committed a grosser case of Perjury than that vile wretch Newton—he positively swore last Friday 16 May, that he let me have 3 grs. of Strychnine the Monday before Cook's death and that I went to Mr Salt's surgery for it, and got it from him at 9 o'clock.

It is a base lie, for I left London on that very night at 5 o'clock by Express and arrived at Stafford at 10 minutes to 9, brought a Fly from the Junction and arrived at Rugeley at Masters' door about 10 o'clock.

Now, as there is a God in Heaven (I am sure you can't have forgotten it) you know that you were waiting for my coming and when I got out of the Fly you told me that my Mother wanted to see me particularly, and after bidding Cook good-night we walked together down to The Yard and got a good brushing from the Old Lady about a writ of Brown's that Arminshaw had sent for; that Arminshaw told to George, and George to my Mother—and if you recollect she was very cross.

We then walked back to my house and you said: 'Well, let me have a glass of spirit.' I went to the cupboard and there was none— you said: 'Never mind,' and bid me good-night. This must have been after n o'clock—now I should like to know how I could get to Mr Salt's shop at 9 o'clock on that night? You can also prove this truth, that Cook dined with me (and you) at my house on the Friday before his death and that we had a quantity of wine. Cook then went with you and had a glass of Brandy and Water—and that he was then the worse for liquor. You can further prove that Cook handed me some money on this day, for he told you so in my presence when he gave you the £10. He told you at the same time I had won over £1000 on his mare at Shrewsbury, and lastly you can prove that he and I betted for each other, that we owned 'Pyrrhine jointly, and that we had had bill transactions together. These are solemn truths and I am fully persuaded that they cannot have escaped your memory.

Therefore let it be your most bounden duty to come forward and place yourself in the witness-box and on your oath speak these great truths. Then rest assured you will lie down on a downy pillow and get to sleep happy.

Bear in mind I only want the truth. I ask for no more.

Yours faithfully,

Wm Palmer

P.S. Newton no doubt calculated upon my coming by the luggage train, but this had been discontinued more than a month—thus my reason for going to Stafford.

Dear Jere,

Do, for God's sake, tell the Truth—if you will only consider I am sure you will recollect meeting me at Masters' steps that night, Monday the 19th of Nov. I returned from London and you told me my Mother wanted to see me. I replied: 'Have you seen Cook? And how is he?' You said: 'No.' I then said: 'Let us go upstairs and see him.' We did do so. When upstairs Cook said: 'Doctor, you are late! Mr Bamford has sent me two pills which I have taken.' And he said to you: 'Damn you, Jere, how is it you have never been to see me?' You replied that you had been busy all the day settling Mr Ingram's affairs and we then wished him good-night and went to my Mother's.

Yours ever faithfully,

Wm Palmer

Jeremiah Smith did, indeed, vouch for these facts under oath when called by the Defence.

The Crown lawyers played much the same trick with Allspice as with Cockayne and Saunders, though they did not subpoena him. They merely arranged for his temporary dismissal from The Junction Hotel, and his employment by Mr Bergen of the Rural Constabulary in a remote situation. Serjeant Shee dared not accuse the Attorney-General of sharp practice in spiriting away his witnesses, because to do so and thus, by inference, reproach the Lord Chief Justice of condoning a felonious act, would have ruined him professionally. Shee was aiming at a judgeship, and had perforce to swallow his discomfiture. As it was, the Lord Chief Justice rebuked him pretty sharply for a delay of ten minutes in producing another of his witnesses and, we may be certain, would not have waited until Saunders, Cockayne, and Allspice had been routed out and, despite all the efforts made by the Stafford Constabulary to detain them, brought up to London from the Midlands.

Now, if anyone asks us: 'Do you really believe that Mr Stevens, a retired merchant of modest fortune, was powerful enough to force diese extraordinary and disgraceful tactics on Messrs Chubb, Dean & Chubb, the Crown lawyers?', we shall unhesitatingly answer 'No, Sir!' But to the next question: 'Whom, then, do you suspect?', we shall reply with all possible circumspection, as follows: 'The jurymen were warned before the trial began that, if any of them happened to be shareholders of certain powerful insurance companies, they must retire as interested parties. But what of the Crown lawyers? Has anyone dared inquire into their impartiality? If Dr Palmer had been found innocent of poisoning Cook (as the Stafford Grand Jury found him innocent of poisoning his brother Walter), would not the companies have been liable in consequence to pay the Doctor the thirteen thousand pounds of Walter's life insurance? And what of the Stafford Police? Are none of them venal?'

We will, however, say no more, for fear of libel, but simply invite our questioner to decide whether it is impossible that representatives of the insurance companies privately acquainted Messrs Chubb, Dean & Chubb, and Captain Hatton, with their strong interest in the prisoner's condemnation.

It is perhaps a not very remarkable circumstance that the Judges, the Lord Mayor, the Sheriffs, the Aldermen and (we are told) the jury, the majority of them, were united in a fond love of the Turf. We believe that most loyal Turfites would feel a hundred times less aggrieved with a man who garotted a fellow-criminal, an unwanted child, or an ailing relative, dian with one who poisoned racehorses—as Dr Palmer was suspected of doing. The Doctor's reputation at Tattcrsall's was bad enough to condemn him for any crime charged against him: from petty larceny to High Treason; and if Serjeant Shee had pleaded that his client bought the strychnia from Messrs Hawkins for the purpose of poisoning one of the Earl of M's, or the Duke of D' swiftest and noblest horses, such a plea would necessarily have been construed as an invitation: 'Pray, hang this villain!' Be that as it may, a tacit agreement was reached over the nightly turtle-soup and pineapples consumed at the Guildhall during the trial, that no person of honour could dare support Dr Palmer, even in the name of abstract justice; for surely a man capable of doctoring a gallant thoroughbred would not hesitate an instant before murdering a score of plebeian bipeds? To poison foxhounds was an equally grave crime; and this explains why Serjeant Shee respected the feelings of all good fox-hunters in Court by referring to 'the dogs' in his cross-examination of George Bate, as though diey were not foxhounds, and therefore sacrosanct, but common and savage mongrels!

Alderman Sidney was hardly to be envied: as the sole Rugeley man present in that distinguished gathering, and one whose father had opposed the Lord Chief Justice, then Mr John Campbell, when he stood for Parliament as member for Stafford in 1830. Being suspected of partisanship, the Alderman must needs dissociate himself absolutely from Dr Palmer—the son of his former patron, old Joseph Palmer, the sawyer—as the vilest of vile men, wholly untypical of Rugeley; and whimper more excitedly on his trail than the Attorney-General himself. This prejudice against the prisoner supplied seats in Court, by order of Lord Campbell, to all the medical witnesses whom the Crown called; whereas those called for the Defence, however highly they might rank professionally, must stand meekly in the crowded aisles, day after day, during the eight or nine hours of the hearing!

Here we may mention that the book bought by Hawkins at Dr Palmer's sale, and produced at the trial, was a work entitled Manual for Students Preparing for Examination at Apothecaries' Hall. It contained a pencilled note, evidently written in his student days: 'Strychnine kills by causing a tetanic fixing of the respiratory muscles.' The Attorney-General insisted that he attached no great value to this note; but did so in an apologetic manner which left a directly opposite impression on the minds of the jurymen.

It came as a general surprise that two further witnesses for the Defence were missing: namely Eliza Tharm, who could have sworn that Dr Palmer did not make up the pills on that Monday evening in the surgery between 9 and 10.30; and old Mrs Palmer, whom he had visited in Jeremiah Smith's company at about 10.15. We have already shown why Mrs Palmer's tongue was tied: the Prosecution would have put in the shamelessly lascivious

[224] letters she had written to Cornelius Duffy, and represented her as a woman of bad character.

Let Eliza Tharm tell in her own words, as she told us, why her tongue was likewise tied.

ELIZA THARM

When dear Mrs Annie Palmer died, the Doctor was so broken in spirit that I felt exceedingly sorry. Indeed, I loved him with all my heart, and gave him all I had to give. He used to call me his 'little missus', and treated me very sweetly, though he said he was not as yet in a position to make me his wife. Race-going took him away a deal; and that he slept with other girls I knew—for example, one Jenny Mumford, whom he got with child and had to buy off. But that he loved mc best, I knew also; and he gave me his solemn promise not to go with any that had a nasty disease.

Well, among his friends was a Miss Bergen, supposed to be a respectable girl, who had written some very randy letters, inviting him into her bed. Says I: 'Doctor, don't mind me! When you're over at Stafford with Mr Walter and can't get back home to my arms, well, I know how you hate sleeping alone . ..'

So he kissed me and called me an angel, for he knew what I meant.

'But mind,' I told him, 'I don't want to hear about what you and she do together! It might make me jealous.'

The Doctor comes to me one day in a great pother. 'Lizzie, my duck,' he says, 'I'm in trouble with that Stafford girl. She's in pod and wants me for her husband. But I promised you that I wouldn't marry anyone save your little self; so here you'll have to advise me.'

'It's no business of mine, Doctor,' says I. 'Do as you think fit.'

Well, he wrote to Miss Bergen, giving the name of an abortionist who would be as silent as the grave; and the baby was turned away, with nobody none the wiser. But when she wrote that her 'stomach ache', as she called it, had got better, the cold tones of his answer warned her she had no hope of becoming Mrs Palmer. So Miss Bergen threatened to show her father the letters he had written. Now, that was serious, because he was none other than Mr Daniel Scully Bergen, Chief Superintendent of the Stafford Rural Constabulary! First the girl demanded a hundred pounds for their return, and then fifty; but in the end she settled for forty, and he gave her the halves of four ten-pound notes, undertaking to send the others when all the letters were safe in his hands. The money he paid her was part of the sum that he had from Mr Cook to settle bills owing in London. Well, when Captain Hatton made the arrest, Dr Palmer called me and said privately: 'Lizzie, pray do me a service. Take this packet to Miss Bergen. In it are the other halves of those four ten-pound notes. They're no good to me, and I'd rather keep my word even to a bad woman.'

So I went, and right glad I am that I did, as it turned out. You may know that when they took him away, he gave me a fifty-pound note, all the money he had, bless his kind soul! Captain Hatton tried to take it from me, but I wouldn't give it up. He says: 'Mr Stevens has a list of the numbers of all the ten-pound and fifty-pound notes paid to Mr Cook at Shrewsbury, and this will be one of them. It s wanted as evidence.'

The Doctor turns very coolly to Captain Hatton and says: 'I think you'll be wise to leave Miss Eliza in possession of the note.'

'And why, may I ask?' the Captain wants to know.

'I'll tell you why,' Dr Palmer answers. 'The money was entrusted to mc by Mr Cook, not stolen from him and, with his consent, I sent four of the ten-pound notes to pay off a young lady who has been blackmailing me because of some foolish letters I wrote her.'

'That's no concern of mine,' says the Captain.

'By your leave, Sir, it should be,' retorts the Doctor. 'The young lady is the daughter of a colleague of yours; and the letters show that she wanted the money to pay for an illegal operation.'

At this point I break into their conversation: 'Yes, Captain Hatton,' I says, 'it's true. I brought her the other halves of the notes—for the Doctor had sent only half-notes to make sure she'd play fair—and watched while she gummed them together and went to change them at the bank. The bank clerks, they'll have taken the numbers, I've no doubt, and the notes can be traced to her.'

This piece of news seemed to dismay the Captain, so I went on: 'Come, Sir, your hand on the bargain! You leave me with this fifty-pound note, which I'll change at the same bank, and trust me to keep silent.'

'Nobody would believe a word of what you say, you common slut,' Captain Hatton shouts.

'Now, just for that,' says I, quiet but very vexed, 'I've a good mind to do what I first thought of doing, which is to sell the young lady's blackmailing letters to The Illustrated Times. I could get another fifty pounds for them quite easy.'

'Where are they?' the Captain asks threateningly.

'Ah, wouldn't you like to know?' I answers, laughing in his face, I was so emboldened by rage.

The Captain grins back at me and says: 'You're a smart lass.' Then we shake hands on our bargain. But he turns to the Doctor and growls: 'This smart trick of yours isn't going to help you, Palmer!'

The Doctor answers, most polite: 'I trust that you'll do nothing dishonourable, Captain Hatton. The Stafford Constabulary have a high reputation for fair dealing, you know.'

Chapter XXI

IF DOCTORS DISAGREE .. .

WQE refer our readers to The Times's verbatim report for details of the plentiful and complicated medical evidence offered. Dr Bamford, suffering (curiously enough) from English cholera, the very disease to which he had attributed the late Annie Palmer's death, was unable to attend the trial, but made a sworn statement to the effect that the antimony which Professor Alfred Taylor found in Cook's organs had not been prescribed by himself in the form of tartar emetic.

So far, so good; then the egregious Professor Taylor mounted into the witness box. He had at first diagnosed antimony as the cause of death, though discovering only half a grain, which is no more than most of us healthy modern men carry about in our vitals, without trouble or hazard. He conveyed this opinion to Mr Gardiner in the letter which Cheshire, the Rugeley Postmaster, intercepted and opened at Dr Palmer's request; but hearing then that Cook had been overcome by a convulsion shortly before he died, and that Dr Palmer had bought the strychnia from Messrs Hawkins's shop, the Professor changed his mind. Death, he now concluded, must have resulted from strychjiine poisoning, because the human body can absorb up to sixty grains of antimony and suffer no fatal consequences. To us this seems a non sequitur. As a wag has put it:

In antimony, great though his faith, The quantity found being small, Taylor's faith in strychnine was yet greater, For of that he found nothing at all.

When Professor Taylor laid stress on this negative evidence, the Lord Chief Justice remarked, with a challenging look at Serjeant Shee: 'Of course, upon this the whole Defence rests.' Since it had yet to be proved that Cook did not the of natural causes, the absence of strychnia in the organs examined struck many judicious persons as a most feasible defence! But Professor Taylor led the hanging-party with the contention: 'Though no strychnia was found, it would be very improper to believe that none had been administered.' 'Then why trouble to analyse for strychnia?' some asked, 'if its presence and its absence may alike point to its having caused death?' Others remembered the Professor's strange message, unwarrantably presuming murder, which he addressed to a daily newspaper some weeks before the trial: 'Society demands a victim in this case!' They commented: 'We may legitimately doubt whether Dr Palmer fell a victim to the demands of society in general, rather than to those of the racehorse owners whom he had dishonoured, and the insurance company shareholders whom he had defrauded. But certain it is that British Justice has likewise fallen a victim.'

The Professor's admission on his volte face deserves particular scrutiny. A plain question was put to him: 'Can you say upon your oath that, from the traces of antimony found in Cook's body, you were justified in concluding death to have been caused by this poison?' He answered: 'Yes, perfectly and distinctly.' We fail to see what sophistical process can divest so direct, so positive, and so unqualified a statement of its simple meaning. Professor Taylor did believe that Cook died from the effects of antimony; and he arrived at that belief not merely from finding slight traces of the poison in Cook's remains, but from the reports given him of Cook's vomitings and convulsions. Then, when a new light shone within, and the claims of strychnia made him a renegade, his rational powers were severely taxed to satisfy the needs of this sudden change. He knew well that the healthiness of Cook's brain was quite inconsistent with strychnine poisoning; and that so was the length of time—one and a half hours—between the alleged administration of the strychnine pills and the tetanic paroxysms. Yet, for the jury, his total conversion from antimony to strychnia seemed a proof that here was an honest man who cheerfully admitted former error.

Let us now briefly summarize and compare some of the many theories and views held by the medical witnesses.

Dr Monckton's post-mortem examination of Cook's spinal cord revealed the presence of certain granules, which he read as indicating organic disease. Dr Devonshire and Dr Harland, it appears, had discounted them during the preh'minary examination; and at the trial several shades of opinion marked the medical evidence on this head. For instance, Dr Todd, physician at King's College Hospital, asserted that such granules would be unlikely to produce tetanus; while Professor Partridge, who lectures on anatomy at the same college, quoted cases where they had heralded fatal attacks of tetanus. Professor Nunnely of the Leeds School of Medicine, Dr Macdonald of the Royal College of Surgeons at Edinburgh, and Dr Robinson of the Newcasde-on-Tyne Fever Hospital, confidently supported Professor Partridge. Other doctors, however, saw in the granules no sufficient cause to produce either tetanus or death.

Dr Todd held that the state of a person suffering from tetanus is

identical with that induced by strychnine poisoning—an opinion

roundly rejected by all other witnesses for the Crown. Dr Harland

remarked that, though he found the spinal cord softened, this condition

would not cause tetanus; and that, so far as he knew, no disease of

the spinal cord could do so. Then young, plain-speaking Mr Devonshire declared that tetanic convulsions do result from derangements

SIR BENJAMIN BRODIE of the spinal cord; but was dismissed by Mr Baron Alderson as an ignoramus. Sir Benjamin Brodie, no less skilled a physician than he is cautious of his opinions, would not commit himself here; and Professor Alfred Taylor, though holding that strychnia acts on the spinal cord, also seemed to be in the dark on this subject.

Nor was there agreement about muscular rigidity after death. Dr Monckton stated that Cook's muscles were not more rigid than is usual; Dr Francis Taylor of Romsey, that distortion from rigidity generally continues when death has supervened; Professor Taylor, that it sometimes does. Professor Nunnely related that in two cases of stryclinine poisoning which had come to his attention, there was no such rigidity.

That epileptic convulsions occasionally assume tetanic features was a doctrine held by Dr Jones of Lutterworth and others; Dr Macdonald, Dr Robinson, and Dr Richardson (a London physician) concurred in saying that this is invariably the case.

Cook had suffered from locked-jaw, according to Elizabeth Mills's new evidence; but locked-jaw, as a primary symptom of tetanus, was another dogma that invited dispute. Nearly all cases commence with locked-jaw, said Dr Curling, Surgeon to the London Hospital; and Dr Todd agreed that it is an early symptom; but Dr Macdonald contradicted all his colleagues by testifying that locked-jaw is generally a late symptom.

Cook had suffered from an ulcerated throat, and that ulcerations cause tetanus was yet another theory productive of no little discord. Dr Curling quoted two such cases from the records of the London Hospital; Sir Benjamin Brodie, however, had never heard of tetanus proceeding from ulcers or sores.

Opinion was also divided on the question of Cook's heart, which had contained no blood. Dr Todd observed that the heart is rarely full after death by strychnine poisoning. Sir Benjamin Brodie could not say whether it would be full or not. Dr Morley asserted that it is generally very full.

Cook had shrieked on the Sunday night. Shrieking, as a special symptom accompanying attacks of convulsions, found no greater identity of views.

Cook had remained conscious to the very end. Dr Solly, of St Thomas's Hospital, stated that epileptic convulsions are not always attended with want of consciousness; Professor Nunnery agreed with him. Dr Robinson and others, on the contrary, asserted that consciousness is lost in almost every instance.

What do we learn from The Times report on the subject of paroxysms and the several causes that stimulate them? Dr Corbett, the Glasgow physician, denies that touching produces paroxysms in cases of strychnine poisoning. Dr Morley of Leeds asserts that they are so induced. Professors Taylor and Letheby, opposed on so many points, agree that the very slightest touch or exertion induces paroxysms, and that the symptoms of strychnine poisoning arc: irritability, aversion to touch, noise, light, or currents of cool air; also dilated pupils, with continuous twitchings and jerkings. But the intolerance to touch, they say, is the truly diagnostic, the leading symptom, and touch invariably produces paroxysms. Yet Cook had rung the bell, and suffered no paroxysm in consequence. He had, moreover, invited Dr Jones to rub his neck; and Dr Bamford deposed to having gently applied his hand to Cook's abdomen without occasioning the least discomfort or paroxysm.

'Asphyxia,' Dr Curling rules, 'does not produce death in these cases.' Professor Taylor states exactly the opposite. Dr Todd here differs from Professor Taylor, and supports Dr Curling. Professor Christison of Edinburgh University thinks that death may arise from asphyxia, but leaves the question open.

Cook's attacks, which in each case occurred at midnight, after a day comfortably spent, were attributed by some doctors to tetanus. Drs Todd and Watson hold that the symptoms of tetanus are intermittent; Professor Christison and Sir Benjamin Brodie insist that they are continuous.

On the question of what immediately caused death, we find a grand melee of disputants. Their arguments and counter-arguments fog every uninitiated mind, and damp all hope of reaching a just verdict. We are left with one consolation only—that we never ourselves won a professorship in a science offering facilities for such profound discord!

That Cook died of strychnine poisoning is affirmed by Professors Taylor, Brodie, Rees, and Christison; and Drs Todd, Daniel and Solly. Here are seven eminences on one side. That Cook died of some other cause is affirmed by Professors Rodgers (of the St George's School of Medicine), Partridge, Letheby, Herapath, and Nunnely; also by Drs Macdonald, Robinson, Bamford, Jones, Bainbridge of St Martin's Work House, and Richardson of, we believe, Stepney. Thus eleven eminences range themselves in opposition. Eleven more venture no opinion at all.

The jury perhaps drew inspiration from the modern proverb 'The Minority are always in the right,'—for to make any choice based on a clear perception that these seven strychnine-minded doctors had incontestably proved their case, leaving the eleven champions of natural causes to wander in the illusive moonshine of gratuitous speculation, was as far beyond the power of this stolid jury as it was to raise John Parsons Cook from the dead. Yet somehow the Lord Chief Justice expected the atmosphere of science, murky from the vapours of twenty-nine discursive intellects, to be irradiated and resolved into a pure sky of truth by the miraculous intervention of twelve respectable traders!

In what way were the opinions of the Crown's medical witnesses to be judged sounder than those held by the opposite side? Not one of the seven had ever seen a single case of strychnine poisoning in the human subject—some had never even witnessed an experiment on animal life—and several confessed to but very limited experience of simple tetanus. Yet no less than three of the medical witnesses called by the Defence had been present at numerous post-mortem examinations, where deadi had been admittedly due to strychnia. Professor Nunnely, the target of so much of the Attorney-General's abuse and the victim of the Lord Chief Justice's privileged, courteous insults, had made postmortem examinations of two persons carried off by this poison; had experimented with strychnine on forty animals; and with other poisons on two thousand more; thus claiming a body of experimental research one hundredfold greater than that possessed by all the other doctors and professors together. Nevertheless, his evidence was spoken of by the Prosecution in terms well calculated to excite contempt.

Professors Taylor and Rees, called for the Crown, pronounced that the fiftieth part of a grain of strychnia cannot be detected. Yet Professor Herapath of the Bristol Medical School, and Professor Letheby, Medical Officer of Health to the City of London, stated for the Defence that the fifty-thousandth part can!

Professor Taylor's testimony was, without doubt, the mainspring that acted so powerfully on the minds of the jury. Some twenty-three years ago, he had experimented with strychnia on twelve wild rabbits—'which is the only personal knowledge that I have of strychnia, as it affects animal life'—but had never seen any human being exposed to its influence. And 'though I met a case of tetanus in the human subject years ago, I have not had much experience in such matters'. He constantly failed to detect the presence of strychnia after poisoning animals, even when the dose was as much as a grain and a half; and had never thought to conduct experiments on dogs or cats, though they resemble man far more closely in that they vomit, whereas rabbits do not. Professor Taylor has published The Principles and Practice of Medical Jurisprudence—in part a treatise on poisons—and diere one may find listed experimental facts and the reports of several deaths by strychnia. But none of this is the product of his own research— the Professor's light shines with borrowed rays, like the deceptive Moon.

Of Sir Benjamin Brodie little need or can be said. Though he had considerable experience of tetanus, he also excelled in tact and avoided any positive statement that could contradict other people's opinions, qualifying his evidence with such phrases as ' according to my knowledge,' 'so far as I have seen,' 'at least so it has been in my experience,' 'I believe I remember cases,'—and so forth. He took the safe course of a man who, being himself benighted, will not pretend to set a neighbour's foot on the right path. But Professor Taylor's forthright evidence was even at variance with itself. In reply to the question: 'Were the symptoms and appearances in Cook's case the same as diose you have observed in the animals which you poisoned with strychnia?' he declared: 'They were.' Yet he had repeatedly laid down that no prognosis of the symptoms likely to ensue from the human consumption of strychnia can rest on those observed in lower animals similarly poisoned; so that even his youthful experiments with rabbits were irrelevant here.

To quote a tithe of the evidence on the above subjects would protract our comment far beyond convenient limits. Indeed, we find so much that is criticizable in the evidence, the addresses of Counsel, and the charge to the jury, that our own patience as well as that of our readers would soon suffer exhaustion. However, a letter written to The Times by F. Crage Calvert, Esq., F.C.C., a Cheshire chemist, about his discovery of strychnia in the bodies of several wilfully poisoned hounds—at least three weeks after death —convinces us that Professor Taylor's theory of 'perfect absorption' is quite fallacious. So does another written to the same newspaper by Professor Herapath, the greatest analytic chemist now alive among us, whom the Attorney-General browbeat and flustered during the trial. He once found strychnia in a fox dead for over two months.

How Professor Herapath came to be subpoenaed by the Prosecution is a curious story. According to an anonymous letter received by the Crown lawyers from Keynsham in Somersetshire, the Professor had publicly declared: 'I have no doubt that there was strychnia in Cook's body, but Professor Taylor could not find it.' Professor Hcrapath was known to be at loggerheads with Professor Taylor, whom he looked upon as an ignorant theorist, and seems to have incautiously made some such remark to Mr Twining, the Mayor of Bristol, and a party of his friends. Yet it had been based on partial newspaper accounts of the case, including a most inaccurate one printed by The Illustrated Times. This anonymous letter also reported him as saying: 'A word from mc would hang that man!'—but the remark was, in effect, made by Mr Twining. The Attorney-General eagerly seized on Professor Herapath's observation which he had read as meaning that strychnine might evade the analysis of even the most experienced analyst; whereas, in truth, the Professor had merely referred to Professor Taylor's incompetence. At the trial, the Attorney-General realized his mistake, and was skilful enough to repair it with Pharisaic ingenuity by entangling Professor Herapath in his talk.

If we may give our studied opinion for what it is worth, founding it upon that of Mr John Robinson, the well-known lecturer on Medical Jurisprudence, and others, equally distinguished, we will say that the sore on Cook's body—where, according to the evidence, excoriation of a syphilitic scar had been rubbed off— was well capable of inducing tetanus, especially in one who frequented stables; for stables breed the disease. To this we will, however, add that the nightly recurrence of Cook's attacks rather suggests an obscure nervous disorder—'epileptic convulsions with tetanic symptoms,' as Dr Bamford called it—which, in his weakened state, Cook could not resist. Dr Palmer, in all probability, had assisted this weakness, for a felonious object, possibly by introducing tartar emetic into Cook's toast-and-water; but never, we are convinced, did he foresee or desire that it should have a fatal ending.

It may be objected that epilepsy seldom makes its first appearance in mature persons and that, if Cook had previously experienced epileptic seizures, this fact would surely have come out in the trial. But such epileptic seizures as occur only late at night, when the patient is suffering from gastric disturbances, or has worked himself up to an anxious frame of mind, often escape general remark; and if Dr Jones, a capable physician and Cook's country neighbour, diagnosed epilepsy, he must have suspected a proneness to this unusual disorder. The suggestion that Dr Palmer procured three grains, and then another six grains, of strychnia— in his own home-town, too—for the purpose of murdering his friend, afterwards adjusting the dose so nicely as to leave no vestige of the crime—this seems to us one of the most far-fetched that we have ever heard.

Chapter XXII

THE VERDICT

MANY incidents in this trial, we confess, surprised us unpleasantly. Mr Baron Alderson, who shared Lord Chief Justice Campbell's partiality for the Prosecution, made even less attempt to conceal it, and frequently amused himself by suggesting questions to Mr James, Q.C., the Counsel for the Crown. He would raise his hands in feigned astonishment if evidence favourable to Dr Palmer was elicited by cross-examination; stare at the jury with a look of incredulity and contempt if Serjeant Shee called attention to such evidence; and assist the Lord Chief Justice in overruling almost every legal objection raised by the Defence. Once, when Mr Serjeant Slice asked a medical witness: 'Where are the pathionic glands?', Mr Baron Alderson started angrily from his seat and exclaimed in loud tones: 'Humbug!' To another similar question he answered for the witness: 'You will find that in any encyclopaedia.'

By contrast, Mr Justice Cresswell Cresswell, who had been educated, like Mr Baron Alderson, at the Charterhouse and Cambridge, comported himself with dignity and strict impartiality. It was clear that, but for his intervention at many important points, the Lord Chief Justice would have admitted illegal evidence against Dr Palmer, or excluded evidence operating in his favour. When, on one occasion, Mr Justice Cresswell respectfully addressed Serjeant Shee as 'Brother Slice', Mr Baron Alderson's impatient ejaculation: 'O, bother Shee!' was heard by everyone present.

The Lord Chief Justice first showed his prejudice by allowing the Attorney-General to acquaint the jury with the story of Bate's life insurance, while omitting circumstances which Samuel Cheshire, or Jeremiah Smith, or Dr Palmer himself—who, by a quirk of British legal procedure, must keep silent throughout the trial, whatever falsehoods might be told—could have supplied in extenuation. Dr Palmer, let it be observed, had never been granted the privilege of stating his case from any witness-box, or before any public authorities whatsoever. Serjeant Shee strongly objected to this evidence about the insurance as irrelevant, and it was excluded, but too late for the true facts to appear. Thus the black impression remained fixed in the minds of the jurymen: 'Dr Palmer attempted to take George Bate's life; as he had already taken those of his own wife and, perhaps, his brother.'

Again, it is a first principle of our Law that nothing which has been said while a prisoner was absent may be quoted in evidence against him. Yet the Lord Chief Justice allowed the Prosecution to prove a talk between Mr Cook and Fisher, held in Dr Palmer's absence when the latter had no means of contradicting Cook's drunken suspicions of the brandy. It seems that Mr Justice Cress-well noted the impropriety, because he later interposed at this point in the Lord Chief Justice's summing-up and prevented him from reading to the jury evidence which should never have been given. Yet the passage had produced a decisive influence on their minds, and blinded them to the fact that Cook later went to Rugeley with Dr Palmer, dined at his house, constantly sent for him, made no mention of any 'dosing' to Dr Jones, his closest friend and his physician, and kept an affectionate faith in Dr Palmer until death carried him off.

Serjeant Shee objected time after time to Mr James's illegal questions, but the Lord Chief Justice overruled him so constantly that at last he told Mr John Smith, Dr Palmer's solicitor: 'I dare not object further.'

John Smith replied: 'This, Sir, is an organized conspiracy to hang our client; and so I suspected from our correspondence with the Crown solicitors. You will remember how we failed to extract a report from them as to Professor Taylor's analytic methods. They refused my demand, and were supported by Sir George Grey at the Home Office, who stated that it was an unprecedented one, and that these matters would doubtless appear in cross-examination. I answered that the case was equally unprecedented, this being the first in which strychnia had been cited as a means of murder; and respectfully denied that Professor Taylor's analyses could form a proper subject 'of cross-examination, unless they were duly recorded in writing and the depositions read to the Judges and the jury. Nevertheless, Sir George brushed me off. Yes, Sir, Mr James's questions are inadmissible, as every member of the Bar knows well; but what remedy have we?'

Mrs Brooks's testimony that she had seen Dr Palmer holding up a tumbler of water against the gaslight at The Raven Hotel was not unfavourable to the Doctor; for she had also deposed that many odicr people in Shrewsbury, whom Dr Palmer could not possibly have dosed, suffered from the same sickness as Cook. Yet in his summing-up the Lord Chief Justice failed to remind the jury of this important fact.

When Herring, the commission-agent, known on the Turf as 'Mr Howard', was examined, and the Prosecution wished him to reveal the contents of Cook's betting-book, Serjeant Slice objected: 'We cannot have dus given in evidence, my Lord, since the book is lost.'

The Lord Chief Justice, gazing sternly at Serjeant Shee, said: 'According to the last account we heard, it was in the prisoner's possession.'

Serjeant Shce replied with a reproachful cough: 'My Lord, I don't think there is any proof of his ever having touched it.'

Here the Attorney-General interrupted: 'We will show that it lay in the dead man's room on the Tuesday night before his death, and that the prisoner was afterwards observed looking about

Yet nobody at The Talbot Arms Hotel claimed to have seen the book later than the Monday night, when Elizabeth Mills noticed it hanging from the mirror.

Nor did the Lord Chief Justice point out the patent discrepancy between a statement promised from Elizabeth Mills by the Attorney-General; namely, that she handed Cook's cup of coffee, ordered on the Monday morning, to Dr Palmer (who therefore had an opportunity of doctoring it); and the statement which she actually made, namely that she gave it directly to Cook. He also withheld comment on the even graver discrepancy pointed out by Serjeant Slice between her statements at the inquest and at the trial. Whereas she had told the Coroner that the broth tasted very good, and mentioned no harmful after-effect, her new story was that she had been seized by violent vomiting which incapacitated her for five hours. Moreover, her original deposition contained no reference to the twitchings and jerkings which she now described with much pantomimic by-play.

It was noted, too, that the Lord Chief Justice eulogized all the medical witnesses called for the Crown and allotted seats in Court; while seeming to regard all witnesses for the Defence as ignoble or inferior beings since, by his own orders, they were condemned to stand. Some of these he offered undeserved disrespect, and applauded only one, Dr Wrightson of Birmingham, whose evidence lent some slight support to Professor Taylor's theories. His recommendation of Sir Benjamin Brodie went: 'The jury will take into consideration the solemn opinion of this distinguished medical man: that he never knew a case in which the symptoms he has heard described arose from any disease. He has witnessed the various diseases that afflict the human frame in all their multiplicity, and he knows of no natural disease such as will answer the symptoms which he has heard described in the case of Cook; and, if death did not arise from natural disease, then the inference is that it arose from other causes.'

The alleged cause was, of course, strychnine poisoning. Now, Sir Benjamin Brodie based his solemn opinion on two irreconcilable statements: the first made by Elizabeth Mills—who was proved to have greatly enlarged and embroidered on the evidence she gave at the inquest—and the other by Dr Jones of Lutterworth, whose evidence had remained unchanged. If what Elizabeth Mills swore was all true, and if Sir Benjamin was omniscient, then the Lord Chief Justice might have been justified in saying that Cook's symptoms accorded with no known disease, and that strychnine might therefore be suspected—except that neither did some of the symptoms reported coincide with those expected from strychnine poisoning. On the other hand, if Elizabeth Mills lied, then the description of Cook's deadi as given by this Dr Jones, a trained medical practitioner, became perfectly consistent with natural disease. This is to say: if Mr Stevens and Mr Gardiner had influenced Miss Mills by culling a number of symptoms from the recent case of Mrs Dove, who had died from strychnine, and suggesting that she had noticed them in Cook; and if she perjured herself in swearing to these; and if her evidence must be given equal value with Dr Jones's—why, then Sir Benjamin Brodie could hardly make any other reply than he did when asked the question. How could he assign the cause of Cook's death to any known disease, when most of the symptoms were fictitious and irreconcilable with the genuine ones?

Serjeant Shee made great efforts to bring out this point in cross-examining Sir Benjamin:

SERJEANT SHEE. Would you think that the description of a chambermaid, and of a provincial medical man who had seen only one case of tetanus, could be relied on to state what sort of disease Cook's was?

THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE (nodding wisely to the jury). He is asked, on

the assumption that both witnesses are speaking the truth.

SIR BENJAMIN BRODIE (uncomfortably). I must say, I thought that the

description was clearly given.

SERJEANT SHEE. On which of the two would you rely, supposing that

they differed—the chambermaid or the medical man ?

THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE (in injured tones). This is hardly a proper

question.

MR BARON ALDERSON. It is a proper observation for you to make, Brother Shee!

The question was, of course, disallowed. But surely it had been most properly put? If Sir Benjamin had answered that he relied on Elizabeth Mills's untrained observations, then the jury would have set the fact against their memories of certain most disingenuous answers given by this witness when questioned about her meetings with Messrs Stevens and Gardiner. If, however, Sir Benjamin had answered that he preferred Dr Jones's testimony, the inference would have been that Cook died from natural causes.

We believe that this ruling by the Lord Chief Justice did more to hang Dr Palmer than any other. Yet it is an axiom of the Law, dear to all Englishmen, that in any criminal trial, the presiding Judge is 'prime counsel for the prisoner'.

Serjeant Shee's speech for the Defence was eloquent enough. He could show that Dr Palmer and Cook owned a racehorse in common; had contracted certain debts jointly; and trusted each other to lay money on horses. The brotherliness of their relations was suggested by a letter, produced in evidence, which Cook wrote Dr Palmer from Lutterworth, on January 4th, 1855.

My dear Sir,

I went up to London on Tuesday to back St Hubert for £50, and my commission has returned 10s/1d. I have therefore booked £250 to £25 against him, to gain money. There is a small balance of £10 due to you, which I forgot to give you the other day. Tell Will Saunders to debit me with it on account of your share in training Pyrrhine. I will also write asking him to do so, and there will be a balance due to him from me.

Yours faithfully,

J. Parsons Cook

But Serjeant Shee attempted too much. Cheshire's and Pad-wick's testimony proved conclusively that Dr Palmer had forged Cook's signature to a paper and got for himself the money Cook won at Shrewsbury. Granted, Cook's murder could have benefited him neither in the long run nor in the short, since liabilities to the amount of twelve thousand pounds were outstanding; yet the evidence of fraud was plain. A plea that Dr Palmer had taken advantage of Cook's natural sickness to rob him would have been a safer one. Dr Palmer would, it is true, have received a very severe prison sentence in consequence; but the crime of forgery, which he had admitted on oath, already made him liable to that.

Serjeant Shee surprised the Court with a most remarkable statement. 'I believe,' he said, 'that truer words were never pronounced than those uttered by the prisoner when pleading "Not Guilty" to this charge. I will prove to you the sincerity with which I declare my personal conviction of his innocence—when I meet the case foot by foot.'

The Attorney-General replied: 'You have just heard from my learned friend the unusual and, I may add, the unprecedented assurance of his personal faith in his client's innocence. When he made it—and I know no man in whom the spirit of truth is more keenly alive—he gave expression to what he sincerely believed. But what would lie diink of me if, imitating his example, I at this moment revealed to you upon my word and honour, as he did, what is my personal conviction from a meticulous review of the whole case?'

The Attorney-General could not, it seems, forget his private conversation with Frank Swindell, who had accused Dr Palmer of 'doctoring him for death' at Wolverhampton Races.

Among the witnesses, other than medical, called for the Defence and present in Court, were George Myatt, the Rugeley saddler; John Sergeant, a racing man; and, finally, Jeremiah Smith. Myatt testified that he had been at The Raven Hotel on the night when Cook complained of the brandy, and that nobody could have doctored Cook s brandy and water without his knowledge. He also testified that a great many people fell sick at the Shrewsbury Meeting, and that Dr Palmer himself had vomited violently out of the carriage window on his return to Rugeley by the six o'clock express. Cook, Dr Palmer, and himself had then discussed the prevalence of these symptoms and thought that the Shrewsbury water supply must have been tainted. Myatt swore that Cook had been very drunk, even before he took the brandy and water; and that Cook's words were not: 'It burns my throat dreadfully,' but: 'There's something in it.'

Sergeant testified that at the Liverpool Races, a week previously, Cook had asked him to look at his ulcered throat, and that he had made the same request on several other occasions. 'He also went to Dr Palmer,' Sergeant continued, 'and in my hearing applied for a mercurial lotion called "black wash".' From Sergeant's further evidence it seems probable that Cook's remark, 'It burns my throat dreadfully,' did not refer to the brandy, but was a retrospective complaint about an injury done him at Liverpool railway station. Gingerbread nuts were sold on the course— some innocuous, others containing cayenne pepper—and when the races had ended Dr Palmer humorously gave Cook one of the latter sort. At The Raven, Cook drunkenly suspected Dr Palmer of dosing the brandy too—the peppered ginger-nut being still active in his memory.

Jeremiah Smith testified to Cook's not possessing enough money, after the Shrewsbury Races, to pay him more than five pounds of the £41 10s. debt due, and saying: 'I can't let you have the remainder, Jerry, because I've given most of my winnings to Palmer, but you shall be paid when I've been to Tattersall's on Monday.' Smith also testified that he had waited for Dr Palmer's return to Rugeley on the fateful Monday night, and met him at ten minutes past ten outside The Talbot Arms Hotel. Cook, whom they then visited briefly, in his bedroom, complained: 'You're late tonight, Doctor. I didn't expect you to look in. So I took Dr Bamford's pills'—the inference being that he would not have taken them, had Dr Palmer come earlier. When Cook told them both: 'I was up this afternoon talking with Saunders and Ashmole,' Dr Palmer answered: 'You oughtn't to have done that.'

Afterwards, so Jeremiah Smith testified, Dr Palmer and himself walked to The Yard, a few hundred paces away, and spent half an hour in the company of old Mrs Palmer, who had important business to discuss. He then left Dr Palmer at The Yard, and went home. As for the allegedly poisoned broth, he had sent it as a gift to Cook, who was not well enough to accept an invitation to dine; this broth being the liquor in which his own leg of mutton had been boiled at The Albion Inn. That Mrs Rowley, the cook, should take it along the street in a saucepan, to be warmed up at Dr Palmer's and there poured into the invalid-cup, was very natural, considering the distance and the state of the weather. Jeremiah Smith also testified to having once watched Ben Thirlby, Dr Palmer's assistant, dress Cook's ulcered throat with caustic.

Nevertheless, the good impression thus made on the jury was entirely swept away by the Attorney-General's cross-examination of Jeremiah Smith, on matters irrelevant to the trial. Serjeant Shee knew that any objections to these he might lodge would be vain. Indeed, Smith gave such a lamentable exhibition of cowardice that the spirit of tragedy which had for days brooded over the Old Bailey gave place, at times, to farce.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Have you known Palmer long ?

SMITH. I have known him long and very intimately, and have been

employed a good deal as an attorney by Palmer and his family. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. In December, 1854, did he apply to you,

asking you to attest his brother Walter Palmer's proposal for

£13,000 in The Solicitors' and General Insurance Office?

SMITH. I cannot recollect; if you will let me see the document I will

tell you.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Will you swear that you were not applied to ?

SMITH. I will not swear either that I was not applied to for that purpose, or that I was. If you will let me see the document I shall recognize my writing at once.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. In January, 1855, were you applied to by Palmer to attest his brother's proposal for £13,000 in The Prince of Wales Office?

SMITH. I don't recollect.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Don't recollect? Why, £13,000 was a large sum for a man like Walter Palmer, wasn't it, who hadn't a shilling in the world? Didn't you know that he was an uncertified bankrupt ?

SMITH. I knew that he had been a bankrupt some years before, but not that he was an uncertified bankrupt. I knew that he had an allowance from his mother, and I believe that his brother William [the prisoner] gave him money at different times.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. During 1854 and 1855, where in Rugeley did you live?

SMITH. In 1854, I think, I resided partly with William Palmer, and

sometimes at his mother's.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you sometimes sleep at his mother's ? SMITH. Yes.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you sleep in his mother's room—on your oath, were you not intimate with her?—you know well enough what I mean.

SMITH. I had no other intimacy, Mr Attorney, than a proper intimacy.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. HOW often did you sleep at her house, though having an establishment of your own close by?

SMITH. Frequently. Two or three times a week. [Here one of the jurymen sniggered, and slowly a laugh spread through the Court.]

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Explain how that happened.

SMITH. Sometimes her son Joseph or other members of her family were on a visit there, and I went to see them. We used to play a game of cards, and have a glass of gin and water, and smoke a pipe perhaps; and then they would say: 'It is late—you had better stop all night.' And I did.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did that continue for three or four years?

SMITH. Yes; and I sometimes used to stop there when nobody was at home—when they were all away, the mother and everybody.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. And you have slept at the house when the sons were not there and the mother was ?

SMITH. Yes. Two or three times a week.

[More laughter.]

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. But since there was no one to smoke and drink with, you might have gone home. Will you say on your oath that there was nothing but a proper intimacy between you and Mrs Palmer?

SMITH. I do.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. NOW, I shall turn to another subject. Were you called upon to attest a further proposal for £13,000 by Walter Palmer, in The Universal Assurance Office?

SMITH. I cannot say; if you will let me see the proposal I shall know.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Answer me, Sir, as an attorney and a man of business: did William Palmer ask you to attest a proposal for a £13,000 assurance on the life of his brother Walter?

SMITH. If I could see any document on the subject I daresay I should recollect.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Do you remember getting a five-pound note for attesting an assignment of such a policy by Walter Palmer to his brother?

SMITH. I don't recollect positively.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL {handing a document to witness). Is that your signature?

SMITH (after considerable hesitation). It is very like my signature, but

I have some doubt about it.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Read the document and tell me, on your

solemn oath, whether it is your signature.

SMITH. I have some doubt whether it is mine.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I will have an answer from you on your

oath, one way or another. Isn't that your handwriting?

SMITH. I believe that it is not my handwriting, but a very clever

imitation of it.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Will you swear that it is not?

SMITH. I will.

MR BARON ALDERSON. Did you ever make such an attestation ?

SMITH. I don't recollect, my Lord.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Look at the other signature there, 'Walter

Palmer'; is that his signature?

SMITH. I believe so.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Look at the attestation and at the words 'signed, sealed and delivered'; are they in Mr Pratt's handwriting?

SMITH. They are.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you receive that from Mr Pratt?

SMITH. I can't swear that I did. It might have been sent to William Palmer.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you receive it from William Palmer? SMITH. I don't know; very likely I did.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. If that be the document he gave you, and if those are the signatures of Walter Palmer and of Pratt, is not the other signature yours?

SMITH. I'll tell you, Mr Attorney . . .

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Don't 'Mr Attorney' me, Sir! Answer my

question! Will you swear that it isn't your handwriting?

SMITH. I believe it is not.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you apply to The Midland Counties Insurance Office in October, 1855, to be appointed their agent at Rugeley?

SMITH. I think I did.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you yourself send them a proposal on

the life of Bate for £10,000?

SMITH. I did.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did William Palmer ask you to send that proposal?

SMITH. Bate and Palmer came together to my office with a prospectus, and asked me if I would write and get appointed agent for that company in Rugeley, because Bate wanted to raise some money.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. And you did so ?

SMITH. I did.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Was Bate at that time superintending William Palmer's stud and stables at a salary of one pound a week?

SMITH. I can't tell his salary.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. After that, did you try to make the widow

of Walter Palmer give up her claim on her husband's policy?

SMITH. I did.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did you receive a document from Pratt to

lay before her at Liverpool? SMITH. William Palmer gave me one which had been directed to

him.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Did the widow refuse to sign the document? SMITH. She said she would like her solicitor to sec it. So I said: 'By

all means,' and brought it back because I had no instructions to

leave it.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Didn't she say: 'I understood from my husband that the insurance was for £1000?'—or words to that effect?

SERJEANT SHEE objected to the question. What had passed between Walter Palmers widow and the witness could be no evidence against the prisoner.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL explained that the question was intended to affect the witness's credit, and was most important in that respect.

THE COURT ruled that it could not be put.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Don't you know that Walter Palmer obtained nothing for nuking that assignment?

SMITH. I believe that he ultimately did get something for it.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Don't you know that what he got was a bill for £200?

SMITH. Yes; and had a house furnished for him.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Don't you know that the bill was never

paid?

SMITH. No, I do not.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. NOW, I'll refresh your memory a little with regard to those proposals (handing witness a document). Look at that, and tell me whether it is in your handwriting.

SMITH. It is.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. NOW, I ask you, were you not applied to by William Palmer in December, 1854, to attest a proposal on the life of his brother Walter for £13,000 in The Solicitors' and General Insurance Office?

SMITH. I might have been.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Were you, or were you not, Sir? Look at that document, and say have you any doubt upon the subject?

SMITH. I have no doubt that I might have been applied to.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Do not trifle, Sir, with the Court, and with the jury and myself! Have you any doubt whatever that in January, 1855, you were called on by William Palmer to attest a further proposal for £13,000 on his brother's life in another office? Look at the document and tell me.

SMITH. I see the paper, but I don't recall the circumstances.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. That piece of paper seems to burn your fingers?

SMITH. No, upon my honour, it does not. I might have signed it in blank.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. DO you usually sign attestations of this

nature in blank?

SMITH. I have some doubt whether I did not sign several blanks.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. On your oath, looking at that document,

don't you know that William Palmer asked you to attest that

proposal upon his brother's life for £13,000?

SMITH. He did apply to me to attest proposals in some office. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Were they for large amounts ?

SMITH. One was for £13,000.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. NOW the truth is coming out! Were you asked to attest another proposal for a like sum in The Universal Assurance Office?

SMITH. I might have been.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. They were made much about the same time, were they not? You did not wait for the answers to the first application before you made the second?

SMITH. I don't know that any answers came back at all.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Will you swear that you were not present when Walter Palmer executed the deed assigning the policy upon his life to the prisoner, William Palmer? Now, be careful, Mr Smith, because, depend upon it, you shall hear of this again if you are not!

SMITH. I will not swear that I was; I think I was not. I am not quite positive.

The Attorney-General's questioning of Jeremiah Smith's relations with old Mrs Palmer, and his previous questioning of George Myatt, the saddler, as to whether he ever slept in the same hotel bed as Dr Palmer, were both by way of revenge. Serjeant Shee, to throw discredit on Elizabeth Mills's testimony, had suggested that she was a woman of loose morals. Elizabeth Mills, however, answered with jaunty and mocking defiance, whereas Jeremiah Smith vacillated—torn between the fear of losing his character if he owned to being the bedfellow of a rich woman over twenty years his senior, and fear of offending her if he denied the imputation too indignantly. Very few of his answers were given without hesitance and a decided embarrassment, which left its imprint on the jury's mind.

Serjeant Shee tried to make good the damage when he reexamined Smith.

SERJEANT SHEE. How long have you known Mrs Palmer?

SMITH. For twenty years. [In answer to further questions:] I should think she must now be about sixty years of age. "William Palmer is not her eldest son. Joseph, the eldest, resides at Liverpool, and is a timber merchant. He must be forty-five or forty-six years of age. George, the next eldest son, resides at Rugeley and was frequently at his mother's house. John, the youngest, a clergyman of the Church of England, lived there until two years ago, except when he was away at college. There is also a daughter, who lives constantly with her mother; and three servants are kept. The house is a large one, and contains many spare bedrooms. I slept in the room nearest the old church.

SERJEANT SHEE. Is there any pretence for saying that you have ever been accused of improper intimacy with Mrs Palmer?

SMITH. I hope not.

SERJEANT SHEE. I repeat: is there any pretence for saying so ? SMITH. There ought not to be.

SERJEANT SHEE. Pray answer me directly! Is there any truth in the suggestion ?

SMITH. People may have made it, but they had no reason for doing so. SERJEANT SHEE. But was there any truth in such a statement if made?

SMITH. I should say not. There ought not to be any pretence for

anything of the kind. [Laughter.]

MR BARON ALDERSON. NO, Brother Shee. It was only two or three

times a week he slept there! [Loud laughter.]

The Attorney-General thereupon made a telling speech for the Crown, the ablest in his career, speaking without notes in a firm and resonant voice for eight hours or longer. He was secure in the knowledge that he had the last word, and need fear no rebuttal— though why the Prosecution always should have the last word in murder trials, we have been unable to fathom, unless the theory may be that the Judge in his summing-up will speak in the prisoner's defence, pointing out any false logic or distortion of facts contained in this final oration. Well aware, however, that the Lord Chief Justice could not be counted upon to do anything of the kind, Sergeant Shee boldly contended that since the Attorney-General had raised the new matter of Walter Palmer's life insurance, and the proposals for it made to various offices, the Defence was entitled to reply. But the Lord Chief Justice ruled: 'We are of opinion that you have no right to reply,' and Mr Baron Alderson supported him in this.

Dr Palmer, while in the dock, wrote a facetious note to his Counsel:

I wish there was two and a half grains of strychnia in old Campbell's acidulated draught—solely because I think he acts unfairly.

The Lord Chief Justice summed up in a sense which left the jury no choice but to find a verdict or Guilty'; yet Serjeant Shee courageously ventured on a final protest:

SERJEANT SHEE. The question which your Lordship has submitted to the jury is whether Cook's symptoms were consistent with death by strychnia. I beg leave . ..

THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE (in a tone of vexation). That is not the question which I have submitted to the jury; it is a question! I have told them that unless they consider the symptoms consistent with death by strychnia they ought to acquit the prisoner.

SERJEANT SHEE. It is my duty not to be deterred by any expression of displeasure; I stand before a much higher tribunal than even your Lordships', and must therefore submit what I believe to be the proper question. I submit to your Lordships that the question whether Cook's symptoms are consistent with death by strychnia is a wrong question, unless followed by the phrase:'. . . and inconsistent with death from other and natural causes.' I submit that the question should be whether the medical evidence has established, beyond all reasonable doubt, that Cook died by strychnia. It is my duty to make this submission, as it is your Lordships', if I am wrong, to overrule it.

MR BARON ALDERSON. It is done already. You did so in your speech.

THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE (addressing the jury). Gentlemen, I did not submit to you that the question upon which alone your verdict should turn is whether the symptoms of Cook were those of strychnia. I said that this is a most material question, and I desired you to consider it. I said: if you think that he died from natural disease—and not from poisoning by strychnia—you should acquit the prisoner. Then I went on to say that if you believed that the symptoms were consistent with death from strychnia, you should consider the other evidence given in the case to sec whether strychnia had been administered to Cook and, if so, whether it had been administered by the prisoner at the bar. These are the questions which I now again put to you. You must not find a verdict of 'guilty' unless you believe that strychnia was administered to the deceased by the prisoner at the bar; but, if you do believe that, it is your duty towards God and man to find the prisoner guilty.

At the conclusion of this address the jury retired from the Court, at eighteen minutes past two o'clock. They filed back into their box at twenty-five minutes to four, after an absence of one hour and seventeen minutes. The prisoner, who had meanwhile been removed, was simultaneously placed in the dock.

A buzz of excitement which ran round the Court on the reappearance of the jury was instantly hushed by the Clerk of the Arraigns' question: 'Gentlemen of the Jury, are you all unanimous in your verdict?'

The Foreman replied with a downright: 'We are.'

Whereupon the Clerk of the Arraigns asked: 'How say you, gentlemen: Do you find the prisoner at the bar guilty, or not guilty?'

The Foreman rose and announced in distinct and firm tones: 'We find the prisoner guilty.'

Dr Palmer, who exhibited some slight pallor and the least possible shade of anxiety upon the return of the jury to the box, almost instantly won back his self-possession and his demeanour of comparative indifference. He maintained his perfect calm; and when sentence was being passed, he looked an interested, although utterly unmoved, spectator. We may truly say that during the whole of this protracted trial his nerve and calmness have never for a moment forsaken him.

The Clerk of the Arraigns then turned to him with: 'Prisoner at the bar, you stand convicted of murder; what have you to say why the Court should not give you judgement to die according to the law?' This question is of a formal nature; and the prisoner neither made, nor was expected to make, any answer.

Thereupon the Judges assumed the black cap, and Lord Chief Justice Campbell pronounced sentence in the following terms:

'William Palmer, after a long and impartial trial you have been convicted of the crime of wilful murder. In that verdict my two learned brothers, who have so anxiously watched this trial, and myself, entirely concur. The case is attended with such circumstances of aggravation that I will not dare to touch upon them. Whether this be the first and only offence of the sort which you have committed is certainly known only to God and your own conscience. It is seldom that such a familiarity with the means of death can be achieved without long experience; but for this offence, of which you have been found guilty, your life is forfeited. You must prepare to die; and I trust that, as you can expect no mercy in this world, you will, by a repentance of your crimes, seek to obtain mercy from Almighty God. The Act of Parliament under which, at your own request, you have been brought here for trial, allows us to direct that the sentence shall be executed either within the jurisdiction of the Central Criminal Court, or in the county where the offence was committed. We think that the sentence ought to be executed in the county of Stafford, and we hope that this terrible example will deter others from committing such atrocious crimes: for it will be seen that, whatever art, or caution, or experience may accomplish, yet such an offence will surely be found out and punished.

'However destructive poison may be, it is ordained by Providence, for the safety of its creatures, that there are means of detecting and punishing those who administer it. I again implore you to repent, and to prepare for the awful change which awaits you. I will not seek to harrow up your feelings by enumerating the circumstances of this foul murder; but content myself now by passing upon you the sentence of the law.

'Which is: that you be taken from hence to the gaol of Newgate, and be thence removed to the gaol of the county of Stafford —the county in which the offence for which you stand convicted was committed—that you be taken thence to the place of execution, and there hanged by the neck until you be dead, and that your body be afterwards buried within the precincts of the prison; and may the Lord of Heaven have mercy on your soul!

'Amen.'

Dr Palmer's notorious comment on the verdict—the sporting phrase: 'It was the riding that did it,' which he wrote on another scrap of paper and tossed to his solicitor—has been read as an unwilling tribute to the Attorney-General's masterly conduct of the Prosecution. But we have it from his solicitor, John Smith, that it referred solely to the Lord Chief Justice's discreditable jockeyship on the Bench.

Chapter XXIII

A CHANGE IN PUBLIC OPINION

BACK in his cell at Newgate Gaol, Dr Palmer complained to the Under-Sheriff that he had not received anything like a fair trial. The Under-Sheriff replied: 'You can have no reason for complaint, my man. Why, the Attorney-General laid his cards face upwards on the table, saying that, since so much prejudice had been excited in this case, all the evidence against you would first be communicated to Counsel for the Defence, not sprung upon him.'

'I saw in that only the hypocrisy of a Scot,' Dr Palmer retorted. 'There were several cards missing from the pack, including the high trumps.'

'Moreover,' went on the Under-Sheriff, 'no less than three Judges agreed with the jury's finding.'

'Well, Sir, but that don't satisfy me,' said the Doctor. He then stated that Lord Chief Justice Campbell had failed to consult his fellow-Judges before announcing their unanimous agreement with the verdict; and that it should properly have fallen to Mr Justice Cresswell, as junior Judge, to pass sentence.

Later, Dr Palmer admitted: 'Despite old Campbell's unfair speech at the close of it, I had hoped to get off; but when the jury returned to Court and I saw the cocked-up nose of that perky little Foreman, I knew it was a gooser with me.'

He appeared greatly mortified when given a grey suit of convict clothes and curtly told to change into them. Having done so, he was handcuffed and fettered. 'You are bound for Stafford tonight,' said the Under-Sheriff.

A Black Maria stood waiting in the courtyard, where the crowd had gathered thick for a sight of the prisoner; but Mr Weatherhead, the Governor of Newgate Gaol, smuggled him out by cab to Euston Square station. Though met there with angry and derisive shouts, he was safely assisted to the eight o'clock train and thrust into the middle compartment of a first-class carriage; the blinds being at once drawn. He had pleaded to travel by the Great Western Railway, over a less direct route, on the ground that if he went by the London & North Western, he would be recognized all along the line. This favour was denied him.

When he arrived, rather fagged, at Stafford station late that night—only to be greeted with prolonged boos and catcalls— Mr Wollaston, Superintendent of the Stafford Police, took one of his arms, and Mr Weatherhead the other. The police having dispersed the crowd, Dr Palmer picked his way carefully through the puddles, saying: 'Dear me, it’s very wet! Have you had much rain down here?'

'We have,' Mr Wollaston answered shortly.

No further word was spoken for some time, but after about five minutes Dr Palmer signed and said: 'I've had a wearying trial of it: twelve long days!' Then he stumbled in the dark and cried: 'Bother these chains! I wish they were off. I can't walk properly.'

The Doctor's brothers, George and Thomas, had leave to visit his cell a day or two later. When they begged him to declare whether he were guilty or not guilty, he forcibly replied: 'I have nothing to say, and nothing shall I say!'

Within half a week of returning to Stafford he overcame his fatigue, and was allowed several more visits from them; also from the Rev. Mr Atkinson, the Vicar of Rugeley, who had baptized, confirmed, married, and never ceased to feel affection for, him; from Mr Wright, the philanthropist of Manchester; and from the Rev. Mr Sneyd of Ripstone. All diese urged on him the necessity of confessing, but he kept a polite silence. Serjeant Shee sent Dr Palmer a Bible, carrying a sympathetic note on the flyleaf; and he passed much of his time reading this, and other religious books, lent him by the Prison Chaplain, the Rev. H. J. Goodacre. At his request, old Mrs Palmer spared herself the pain of a farewell, and took sole charge of little William, his son.

For a day or two, he was generally assumed to be guilty beyond dispute, and the crowds at Newgate would have cheerfully torn him to pieces, had the Police permitted them. Yet among medical men in Edinburgh, London, and Dublin, the prevalent view now seems to be: 'Hang Palmer for the insurance offices, or for the Jockey Club, or for the greater glory of the Attorney-General. Hang him as a rogue, if you will, but it must be on circumstantial evidence alone, not on the medical evidence; because that has broken down, horse, foot, and guns!'

Yesterday, the President of the College of Surgeons, lecturing to a packed audience on the subjects of tetanus and strychnine, referred pointedly to Dr Palmers trial: 'I have heard of grand jurors and petty jurors, special jurors, and common jurors, but these were twelve most uncommon jurors—very respectable confectioners and grocers into the bargain, I have no doubt—who boldly cut the Gordian knot, and settled the most difficult problem in the world, which is the anatomy of the brain!' He added that ninety-nine parts in a hundred of the surgical evidence at the trial were irrelevant to the case, since Cook had doubtless died of no surgical disease, but of a medical one—namely, a convulsion.

Guy's Hospital is in a ferment. One of Professor Taylor's colleagues has represented the speech of the Attorney-General as one of the greatest examples of medical extravagance and folly ever proffered to the public. Another pre-eminent surgeon calls it 'a piece of cold-blooded cruelty, disgraceful to the nineteenth century'. Professor Taylor himself receives cold looks from his own associates and pupils. At King's College Hospital, where Professor Partridge lectures, the pupils are most indignant at the Attorney-General's attack on Mr Devonshire, who performed the first post-mortem, and is regarded as one of the most promising young surgeons in that institution.

A considerable change of opinion has therefore been observed among the educated public. We reprint the following from The Daily Chronicle:

A public meeting, organized neither by Dr Palmer's family, nor by the Defence, but spontaneously by a number of disinterested citizens, took place today in St Martin's Hall, Longacre, to consider the propriety of staying Wm Palmer's execution on the ground of doubtful and conflicting testimony given at the trial. Most persons present were working men, with a considerable representation of the middle classes, and here and there a few women.

When the doors opened, the hall soon filled, and hundreds who could not find standing room remained outside during the proceedings. A petition praying that the hanging might be postponed, to allow time for a medical inquiry into the facts at issue, lay in a lobby at the entrance throughout the evening, and a stream of people appended their names to it. The feeling manifested by the greater part of the audience was in favour of a respite, though a few score vociferously asserted an opposite view at all stages of the proceedings. So high, indeed, did feeling run at one time that a well-dressed, portly man named Bridd jumped upon the platform and, defying the remonstrances of the chairman, Mr P. Edwards, began addressing the meeting while another speaker held the chair. Bridd was brought to reason amid a scene of indescribable confusion only by the appearance of police constables.

Mr P. Edwards announced that he and his fellows on the platform had not the least personal sympathy with William Palmer, knew nothing of him, and had never seen or conversed either with him or with any member of his family. Nor did they feel a morbid sympathy with criminals, and if the verdict had satisfied public opinion as correctly given, he for one should never have considered arresting the progress of the law, which was always a thing to be respected. (Cheers.) But, since public opinion found much cause to doubt Palmer's guilt, and since a number of first-class medical men, such as Professor Herapath of Bristol, Dr Letheby, and others, stated that, given more time, they could throw additional light on this subject, the meeting had been convened to ask for more time. (Cheers.)

He, and those who acted with him on this occasion, demanded neither a reprieve, nor the Royal clemency; they demanded simple justice. If his listeners considered the evidence submitted at the trial to have been doubtful, he hoped that they would endeavour, with him, to procure a re-investigation of the case, so that there might afterwards be no cause for resentment at a judicial scandal. He had not met with a single man who ventured to assert that Palmer's guilt was proved. (Cheers and uproar.) Despite the show of a fair trial, most people thought that Palmer had too many counsel against him, and that Lord Campbell himself might be included in their number. (Renewed uproar.) He thought Lord Campbell to stand high above all interested and petty motives, yet all judges are fallible human beings, and he might well have erred in his direction of the trial.

Though Mr Edwards admitted that he himself believed in Palmer's guilt, belief (he insisted) was one thing and certainty another. Surely a man was not to be hanged on mere belief ?

Mr Baxter Langley now moved the resolution: 'That, there being grave doubts as to whether or not John Parsons Cook died from strychnine, and it being essential to the interests of society, the progress of science, and the safety of individual life, that such doubts should be removed, this Meeting is of opinion that the execution of William Palmer should be delayed till an opportunity has been afforded of proving whether or not strychnine can be found in all cases where it Has caused death.'

Mr Langley, too, denied that he had any sympathy with the convict Palmer, or with his pursuits. He stood there to vindicate the majesty of the law, which was dear to all Englishmen as a protective, and not as a destructive, principle; and he wished the public mind to rest satisfied, before the sentence was executed, that no link was wanting in the chain of evidence against the prisoner. He did not affirm Palmer's innocence, but he asked the Meeting for their own sakes and for the sake of the law, to give Palmer the benefit of the doubt which still hung over his guilt.

He went on to say that Lord Campbell, when summing up, had assumed the prisoner was a murderer, and then laid before the jury facts to prove his own hypothesis. ('No, no!' and counter-cheers.) The summing up of Lord Campbell was unfair, because he did not put the question to the jury whether strychnine had, or had not, been administered to the deceased—but whether his death was consistent with poisoning by strychnine—thus assuming that death had occurred from strychnine, which was not found in Cook's body. He himself believed that if Palmer were executed, he would be executed to satisfy an unproved scientific hypothesis. ('No, no!' and uproar.)

Mr R. Hart, who seconded the resolution, contended that if capital punishment must take place, it should take place only in cases admitting no doubt of guilt. If a man has been haled to the scaffold and hanged, and if proof of innocence be afterwards established, what compensation for the wrong does this bring his relatives, and what alleviation for the remorse of those who hanged him? (Cheers.) They were not there to consider whether Palmer was a gambler, a black-leg, or a forger. The question was: had the crime or poisoning been legally proved against him? ('No, no!' and uproar.) He could hardly do Lord Campbell the injustice of supposing that he was a willing accessory to legal murder. Yet the evidence was wholly circumstantial, not only as to Palmer's guilt, but as to the fact of any crime having been committed; for though the doctors had contradicted one another, and advanced opposite theories throughout the trial, most of them held that Cook died a natural death. The whole operation of the old English law observed on trials for murder had, in this case, met with a reversal: first, when, before proceeding to prove a murder, they proceeded to prove a murderer; and second, when, instead of inferring the criminal from the crime, they inferred the crime from the criminal.

The motion, which the Rev. Mr Thomas also supported, was put and carried by a considerable majority.

Mr H. Harris, a surgeon, then moved the appointment of a deputation, consisting of the chairman and several other Gentlemen on the platform, to wait upon Sir George Grey, the Secretary of the Home Department, and lay the resolution on his table.

An amendment moved by Mr Bridd, and seconded by the Rev. Mr Pope, to the effect that the verdict of the jury was perfectly correct according to the evidence given at the trial, was lost on a show of hands, and the original motion reaffirmed by a large majority. The Meeting then dispersed.

'Honest John Smith', Dr Palmer's solicitor, had meanwhile pressed for a further post-mortem examination of Cook's mangled remains, and their analysis by chemists who claimed that, in cases of strychnine poisoning, they could detect the ten-thousandth part of a grain. He was supported in his demand by Professor J. E. D. Rodgers, Lecturer in Chymistry at the St George's School of Medicine. Professor Rodgers wrote to The Times:

To the Editor: Sir,

I cannot conceive an opinion more dangerous to promulgate than that a fatal dose of poison can be so nicely adjusted as to escape detection after death. Yet such has been the tendency of many letters published in the Press for some time past. It was with feelings of deep regret that I noticed in your edition of today a communication from a former colleague of mine, Mr Ancell, who, I am sure, would never have sent it, had he been aware of the nature and results of numerous experiments lately made by myself independently, and in conjunction with Mr Girdwood, Assistant-Surgeon, Grenadier Guards. I have asserted, and do still assert, that strychnia cannot evade discovery if proper processes be employed for its separation.

In this view I am supported by the highest chemical authorities of the day; and now request a space in your valuable columns to give the world a process which will form the conclusion of my letter. It has enabled myself and Mr Girdwood to detect that fearful poison in the blood, liver, tissues, and stomachs of animals poisoned by doses such as those Professor Taylor administered in experiments mentioned at the late trial. It has even enabled us to separate the strychnia from the tissues and organs of a dog after its body had been interred twelve months. The results of these experiments, though not a description of the process employed, were forwarded by myself and Mr Girdwood for the scrutiny of Sir George Grey. We hold that if John Parsons Cook was poisoned by strychnia, no matter how small the fatal dose, its presence could even now be clearly demonstrated should the victim s tissues be subjected to the same analytic process: for of all known poisons, there is not one more readily detected. The process is as follows:

The tissues are rubbed with distilled water in a mortar to a pulp, and then digested, after the addition of a little hydrochloric acid, in an evaporating basin. They are then strained, and evaporated to dryness over a water bath. The residue is digested again in a spirit filter, and once more evaporated to dryness. We next treat it with distilled water, acidulated with a few drops of hydrochloric acid, and filter it. We thereupon add excess of ammonia, and agitate in a tube with chloroform; the strychnia in an impure condition being thereby entirely separated with the chloroform.

This chloroform is to be carefully separated by a pipette, poured into a small dish and evaporated to dryness; the residue being moistened with concentrated sulphuric acid, and heated over a water bath for half an hour. We then add distilled water and excess of ammonia —again agitated with chloroform—and the strychnia will have thus been again separated by the chloroform now in a state of sufficient purity for testing. The test is made by evaporating a few drops on a piece of white porcelain, adding a drop of strong sulphuric acid and a minute crystal of bichromate of potash.

J. E. D. Rodgers, Lecturer in Chymistry, at the St George's School of Medicine

John Smith wrote from London to Sir George Grey at the Home Office, two days before the execution:

To The Right Hon. Sir G. Grey: Sir,

Notwithstanding the unabated anxiety which exists in the public mind relative to the fate of William Palmer, I have hitherto postponed addressing you on this subject. Long since his relations and friends would have rushed, in the intensity of their grief, to the Home Office; but as I have been charged with this matter of life and death, the arduous duty of making an appeal falls upon me.

Let me, then, claim your largest indulgence. I have now, when the sand of William Palmer's life has run until the eleventh hour— when only a few days stand between him and the grave, unless your clemency be exercised on his behalf—to address you as the head of that department which is recognized as the last sanctuary of injured justice. Although since the period of your administration the records of mercy adorn it more than at any other time—notwithstanding murder in its blackest form was committed, its perpetrators, under your merciful and wide dispensation, have been allowed to make atonement in exile or in solitude—still I shall not appeal to your sense of mercy.

I shall merely ask that a respite should take place in the execution of William Palmer until the serious doubts, medical and circumstantial, connected with this case, are laid at rest. No matter how popular passion may have been excited to its late state of madness against my client, your spirit of justice must examine into the obscurities that do exist. Sir, I trust you will not reverse one of the first principles of our criminal code, but allow my client the full benefit or doubt, if doubt be well founded. I therefore ground this application for my client's respite— First: Upon the character of Charles Newton, the principal witness for the Crown; as also upon the character of Elizabeth Mills; both of whose antecedents were unfortunately hidden from me at the time of the trial.

Secondly: Upon the absence of two witnesses who could, as I believe, have given satisfactory proofs as to the disposal of the poisons purchased by the prisoner, as well as to the disposal of Cook's money.

Thirdly: Upon the discrepancy of the medical evidence as to the finding of strychnia.

Lastly: Upon the judge's charge to the jury.

The importance as to Charles Newton's testimony in procuring a conviction for the Crown cannot be over-rated. Newton said he sold strychnia to the prisoner on the Monday night before Cook's death; and upon that night Cook was first seized with symptoms of illness. The medical evidence for the Crown pronounced this illness to have been connected with the administration of strychnia; but there was sufficient in Charles Newton's evidence to render him a witness unworthy of belief. The hour which he fixed for the delivery of the poison was incompatible with the hour when the prisoner was seen at Stafford on the same night. The suppression of this incident (if it took place) before the Coroner; the consultation relative to the effects of strychnia, which he said had occurred between Palmer and himself; and the unfeigned joy with which he represented Palmer to have been seized when he lent him his boyish knowledge of the powers of strychnia—all these circumstances and incidents rendered his evidence at the trial such that even the consummate ability of the Attorney-General could not deal with it as he wished. Yet the jury gave implicit faith to this witness.

I have now, Sir, to tell you that the same Charles Newton has been twice in custody for theft at Nottingham; and that some of his more recent acts are under investigation by the Police. Ought this man then to be relied upon in a case of life and death, under the circumstances I have narrated?

As to the witness Mills, she swore at the trial that she slept with Mrs Dutton, when lodging at the house of Mrs Dutton's son. I assert, upon most unimpeachable testimony, that Mrs Dutton lives four miles from her son's residence, and has not been in his house for over nine months. It may be said that perjury by a witness to conceal the offence of fornication is venal, and that the rest of the testimony of such a witness can be perfectly relied upon. My belief is that any person who departs from the paths of virtue, and then perjures herself to cover her shame, may also commit perjury for motives not more honest. Again, let me ask whether life should be sacrificed on such evidence?

I now, Sir, approach a most important part of the case—which is medical and chemical testimony. So much has been written, spoken, and laid before the world on this head, that it requires but a few words from me. Sir, the point upon which so much doubt exists has created a universal and wide-spread feeling relative to the justice of the verdict. No man ought ever to ascend a scaffold with a doubt attached to his guilt. Let not that ill-fated man, William Palmer, whom prejudice has long since consigned to the gallows, do so!

Dr Letheby and Professor Herapath, two most eminent toxicologists of this day, declared upon their solemn oaths that they could discover the fifty-thousandth part of a grain of strychnia in the body of a dead man; and that, if Cook died from that poison, they could now find it. Their opinions were confirmed by almost equally distinguished members of the schools of London, Leeds, Edinburgh, and Dublin. Yet the body of Cook did not yield to the manipulations of Drs Taylor and Rees the smaUest particle of strychnia. Since the unfortunate end of the trial, my table has been laden with letters from scientific men in support of Dr Letheby and his party. If you honour me by your commands, I shall be proud to place these letters before you. Yet I hope that the new light thrown on the characters of Newton and Mills alone justify me in the strong assurance that a respite, for the object of further inquiry, and for the consequent elucidation of truth, will be granted.

Upon the last point which I am calling to your attention, I must, to a certain extent, be mute—I mean the Lord Chief Justice's charge to the jury. As an officer of his Court, I owe him every respect and duty, so that nothing but the dearer interests of my client would induce me to criticize his conduct of the trial. I cannot, however, refrain from saying that if a similar rule existed in the criminal law as in civil law, my Lord Chief Justice's charge would be open to the complaint of misdirection. The voice of the public has unanimously condemned it as one-sided and mistaken. Upon this point I pray your earnest thought.