Part 2

Why Mrs. Piper has got a good deal to say, chiefly in parenthesis and without punctuation, but not much to tell. Mrs. Piper lives in the court, (which her husband is a cabinet maker,) and it has long been well be known among the neighbours (counting from the day next but one before the half-baptising of Alexander James Piper, aged eighteen months and four days old, on account of not being expected to live, such was the suffering of that child, gentlemen, in his genus) as the Plaintive—so Mrs. Piper insists calling the deceased—was reported to have sold himself. Thinks it was the Plaintive’s air in which that report originatin. See the Plaintive often, and considered his air was fearinocious, and not being allowed to go about, some children being timid, (and if doubted, hoping Mrs. Perkins may be brought forard, for she is here and will do credit to her husband, and herself and family.) Has seen the Plaintive wexed and worrited by the children, (for children they will ever be, and you cannot expect them, specially if of playful dispositions to be Methoozellers which you was not yourself.) On accounts of this and his dark looks, has often dreamed as she see him take a pickaxe from his pocket and split Johnny’s head, (which the child knows not fear, and has repetually called after him close at his eels). Never however, see the Plaintive take a pickaxe or any wepping far from it. Has seen him hurry away when run or called after, as if not partial to children, and never see him speak to neither child or grown up person at any time, (except the boy that sweeps the crossing down the lane over the way round the corner, which if he was here, would tell you that he has been seen a speaking to him frequent.) Says the coroner, is that boy here? Says the beadle no, sir, he is not here. Says the coroner, go and fetch him then.

Oh! Here’s the boy, gentlemen!

Here he is, very muddy, very hoarse, very ragged. Now boy!

But stop a minute. Caution. This boy must be put through a few preliminary paces.

Name, Jo. Nothing else that be knows on. Don’t know that everybody has two names. Never heerd of sich a think. Don’t know that Jo is short for a longer name. Thinks it long enough for _him_. _He_ don’t find no fault with it. No lather, no mother, no friends. Never been to school. What’s home? Knows a broom’s a broom, and knows its wicked to tell a lie. Don’t recollect who told him about the broom, or about the lie, but he knows both. Can’t exactly say what’ll be done to him arter he’s dead if he tells a lie to the gentlemen here, but believes it’ll be something wery bad to punish him, and serve him right—and so he’ll tell the truth.

“This won’t do, gentlemen” says the coroner, with a melancholy shake of the head.

“Don’t you think you can receive his evidence, sir,” asks an attentive juryman.

“Out of the question,” says the coroner, “you have heard the boy.” ‘Can’t exactly say’ won’t do you know. We can’t take _that_ in a Court of Justice, gentlemen. It’s terrible depravity. Put the boy aside.

Now. Is there any other witness? No other witness.

Very well, gentlemen! Here a man unknown proved to have been in the habit of taking opium in large quantities for a year and a half, found dead of two much opium. If you think you have any evidence to lead you to the conclusion that he committed suicide, you will come to that conclusion. If you think it is a case of accidental death, you will find a verdict accordingly.

Verdict accordingly. Accidental death. No doubt. Gentlemen, you are discharged. Good afternoon.

While the coroner buttons his great coat, the eminent solicitor, and himself, give private audience to the rejected witness in a corner.

That graceless creature only knows, that the dead man (whom he recognised just now by his yellow face and black hair) was sometimes hooted and pursued about the streets. That one cold winter night, when he, the boy, was shivering in a door-way near his crossing, the man turned to look at him, and came back, and, having questioned and found that he had not a friend in the world, said, “Neither have I—not one!” and gave him the price of a supper and night’s lodging. That the man had often spoken to him since; and asked him whether he slept sound at night, and how he bore cold and hunger, and whether he ever wished to die, and similar strange questions. That when the man had no money, he would say in passing, “I’m am as poor as you to-day, Jo,” but that when he had any, he had always (as the boy most heartily believes) been glad to give him some.

“He was very good to me,” says the boy, wiping his eyes with his wretched sleeve. “Wen I see him a layin so stritched out just now, I wished he could have heard me tell him so. He was very good to me, he was!”

It may be asked, is the above an over-drawn picture of what is frequently observable in coroners’ courts? If answered in the negative! surely the time has come for the reception of additional evidence, with the view, not only to improvement in accordance with the age in which we live, but for the maintenance of the legitimate object for which coroners’ courts were first established, and which they profess to uphold in all the integrity of seeking _the truth_, _the whole truth_, _and nothing but the truth_. Under these circumstances it becomes an imperative duty to record cases where discrepancies exist or have existed.

Case 1.—In the village of R—, a few years since, a young woman denying her guilt to the latest moment, was one morning discovered by her relatives entering her bed room, apparently in a dying state. Observing the clothes saturated with blood, they sent for a medical gentlemen, who immediately attended, and soon ascertained that the cause of the hemorrhage arose from her having been recently confined. On accusing her of the fact and enquiring where she had put the child—with quivering lip and trembling hand, she pointed to the opposite side of the bed, beneath which, was a box, containing the body of a full-grown infant. Externally it appeared perfectly healthy, but the face was dark and tumid, especially the lower part and around the neck, a mark, as if a cord had been tightly held or fastened, was distinctly visible. At the coroner’s inquest held shortly after, the medical attendant deposed, that collateral evidence proved the child was born alive, and the mark alluded to, corroborated his opinion that the child had been strangled. On this evidence, and this evidence alone, as no cord, tape or missile could be found, the jury, at the coroner’s suggestion, returned a verdict of “wilful murder.” At the following Assizes, in Norwich, the judge who tried the culprit, elicited from the medical gentleman, that it was possible for the child to be strangled in its birth from natural causes—that the cord or funis belonging to the child, itself might surround the neck, and by impeding its birth, produce strangulation and death. Under the direction of the judge, the jury immediately returned a verdict of “not guilty,” and the prisoner returned home to her friends, who rejoiced in her acquittal, and believed her an injured person.

Had the coroner at the inquest ascertained the above fact, she would not have been committed to be tried for murder under his warrant, but for misdemeanour, concealing the birth of her child. Thus she narrowly and properly escaped the punishment for the capital offence, but improperly escaped the punishment which would have been awarded her by the offended laws of her country, for conduct she richly merited and deserved.

Case 2. The wife of an agricultural labourer, in the parish of I— was in the habit of going to work in the fields, and leaving her children without fire or food from morning till night, and if on her return she found them crying or murmuring, she would flog and send them to bed supperless. One of the poor children was attacked by the measles, and although the eruption had partially made its appearance, she carried it to the field where she worked, laid the child under a fence, as it was too ill to sit up, and there it continued the whole day, part of the time exposed to a fog off the German ocean, which rendered the surrounding atmosphere cold, moist and insalubrious. Returning homewards in the evening with her child, she observed it was getting worse, and two or three hours after, she asked a neighbour to come and see it, which she did, and advised the mother to send immediately for the parish surgeon. He promptly attended, but gave no hopes for its long surviving, as it was labouring under acute inflammation of the lungs, and in a few hours after his opinion was verified, for the child expired. Some days elapsed before an inquest was held over the deceased. The parish surgeon deposed the child died from inflammation of the lungs, following the measles. On being asked whether he did not think death was accelerated, owing to the child being exposed to cold, he said “No! on the contrary, I consider it beneficial.” In this instance, the medical gentleman was requested by the coroner to re-consider his statement, as he had always understood by checking such eruptions, they were liable to be fatal—but the parish surgeon would not retract, and the coroner rested satisfied, by merely reprimanding and cautioning the woman to take better care of her children.

Thus was inhumanity shielded in its career; as if the life of a child might be sacrificed with impunity.

Case 3. The daughter of a respectable tradesman, in the parish of I—unknown to a part of her family, gave birth to an infant. At four months old, she introduced it for a short time amongst them, as belonging to somebody else. When about to leave home, she engaged another woman to carry it part of the road she was going, promising she would soon overtake her. On reaching the village of L—, a distance of four miles from whence she started, the woman looked at the infant attentively, and thought it was dying. Being alarmed, she entered the first public house she came to, imparted her suspicions, and on close examination, found her fear was not groundless, for the infant had ceased to exist. A coroner’s inquest was summoned, and evidence given that the parent had expressed other than a mother’s fondness for her child. Laudanum had been purchased the night previously, from a shopkeeper in the village by her order, and on receiving it, she tore off the label which denoted the deadly poison, and the phial was subsequently found emptied of its contents. Here apparently a link in the chain of evidence was broken. Two medical gentlemen who made a post mortem examination of the body, deposed that laudanum had been administered to the child, but they were not prepared to say in sufficient quantity to cause death. {28}

A verdict under the coroner’s direction, was recorded that the child died by the visitation of God; but material evidence from other witnesses was withheld, which might have unveiled the mystery surrounding the death of the innocent, and the strongly suspected parties might have been brought to justice.

It is generally known, sooner or later, to habitual drunkards, that too much indulgence in strong beverages, particularly spirituous liquours, is followed by becoming more and more susceptible to their intoxicating effects, although partaken of in smaller quantities. This is owing to established facts; the liver becomes diseased, the nervous system becomes shattered, the brain itself participates in the mischief, so that reason losing its sway in the earlier period becomes permanently injured, and either madness or imbecility; premature age, or organic disease are the inevitable consequences. From the cradle to the grave, a predisposition to decay exists in every one which would far more frequently lie latent, until Old Mortality could no longer stay, did not this, the most disgraceful of all-exciting causes, thus step in and cut the thread of life when least expected, and probably least prepared.

Such was the case with a schoolmaster, who when living, resided in the village of H—. He prematurely suffered from Idiopathic irritation of the bladder, for on carefully sounding him, no stone could be detected, and therefore it was conceived, that inflammatory action in that viscus existed, which accompanied with pain at intervals, especially during the night annoyed him exceedingly. Disease advancing, he consulted a general practitioner in the neighbourhood, and subsequently other medical men, among them an eminent physician in Norwich. But the obstinacy of the disease soon caused his confidence to be shaken, and fearing the result, he yielded to the foolish solicitation of meddling acquaintance, who persuaded him to consult a notorious quack. Complying with their wish, he followed the advice given by the remorseless pretender to knowledge in disease, and applied bullock’s milts to the feet, partook of stimulants (ammonia and spirits of turpentine) in the day, with brandy and laudanum at night; on taking only two doses of the former, his anguish increased considerably, which became partially allayed by the laudanum, but no sleep succeeded—the expression “the complaint has flown upwards,” escaped the lips of the dying man, and delirium closed the scene.

To consult the accelerator of his death—the iniquitous quack—he undertook a journey of forty miles, only four days previously; and although the disease might eventually have killed him, still his condition was good, emaciation had made but little progress, and his appetite continued excellent. From taking stimulants, the gradual decay of nature was denied him. His agony was such, that in cases like his, an Infinite and Merciful Being has wisely ordained that collapse should take place, that the nervous system should receive a lasting shock, and thus was the schoolmaster the victim of credulity, relieved of his earthly pilgrimage.

Such a sudden termination in the death of this unfortunate being naturally aroused the attention of the neighbours. A coroner’s inquest was summoned, and the gentleman in office proceeded to his duty; but the cause of death not being ascertained to the mutual understanding of himself and jury, an adjournment took place. In this instance, though informed that a general practitioner in the neighbourhood attended the schoolmaster in the earlier period of his illness, yet the coroner neglected to call him as evidence, but observed to the jury he should take the phials left in the possession of the friends of the deceased, to have the contents analyzed. Returning homewards, he called on a medical gentlemen, stated his mission, and requested he would on a day named, attend and give evidence. This was assented to, and on the investigation being resumed, the question put to the witness was “What is the nature of the disease, and the cause of death?” he replied, “He could not tell, as he had not been consulted by the deceased during his illness, but he believed the medicine prescribed was harmless—would neither kill nor cure—although he did not approve of the treatment.”

Here the coroner rested satisfied with this superficial enquiry in search of truth, and addressing a readily assenting jury, advised a verdict should be recorded that the deceased died by the “Visitation of God;” and thus was suffered to escape, one of the finest opportunities to expose and punish the unpardonable vanity of a dabbler in physic, who openly, yet certainly, disclosed the fact that he and his fraternity are allowed to deprive with impunity the lives of the weak minded, the most to be pitied among Her Majesty’s subjects.

Case 5. The last example necessary to quote at present, more recently occurred in a village in the county of Norfolk, which requires peculiar notice and consideration, owing to the respectability of persons connected with the affair.

Reports of an extraordinary character had been in circulation several weeks before the event transpired; and this enquiry actually rested on what is termed in medical language Mala Praxis. {32}

A poor agricultural labourer, William Swann, came to an untimely end, through circumstances of an aggravated character, leaving a widow and nine children to deplore his irreparable loss; for among this, the humblest classes of society, there are ties of affection naturally entwined by which they are endeared to each other, more than is frequently observable among grades of a similar character in towns or cities. From their means being limited, their fare less sumptuous, their sayings and doings more immediately exposed, and their abodes being apart from the habits, bustle, and temptations existing in more populous neighbourhoods, are satisfactory reasons for the truth of the above assertion.

The unfortunate deceased observed his health giving way in the month of August last year, and he consulted the parish surgeon, Mr. John Coleby, who found him labouring under irritation of the left kidney, produced by the detention of gravel, which lodging there, pained him exceedingly. The treatment suggested, was attended with various results, sometimes he was relieved for a few days, then he relapsed, and after several weeks illness, a small stone escaped into the bladder.

Swann’s health, however continuing impaired, his wife replied to various inquiries, “he was no better,” and having remarked that she considered the parish surgeon inattentive, a warm-hearted lady, (Mrs. Shirley) expressed a wish that the poor man should consult her medical man, Dr. Bell, residing in Norwich, in whose skill and medicine she had great confidence. Swann consented—was placed by Dr. Bell, on his arrival in Norwich, under the care of Mrs. Phillips’, and the testimony of the different witnesses at the inquest, afterwards held on the body of the deceased, proclaims the result.

The evidence first called, was Mrs. Swann, the widow of the deceased, who stated “My husband was 45 years of age. In the early part of last harvest he was very ill, and he applied to the parish doctor, Mr. Coleby, who attended him until after Christmas, and I told Mrs. Shirley, I did not think Mr. Coleby did justice to him, so she sent him to Norwich to be under her medical man, Dr. Bell. He went on Wednesday, the 11th of February, in a carrier’s cart, and took lodgings of a Mrs. Phillips, in Union Place. He told me that Dr. Bell attended him the same day, that he went up and passed five instruments into his body. He said that Dr. Bell hurt him very much and he (Dr. Bell) passed his instrument up further, which caused a large stream of blood to come from him. Dr. Bell gave him some medicine and continued to attend him a fortnight, when he said he would not take any more. On hearing him say so, Dr. Bell asked him who he would have come to him, he said Mr. Webber, as he was with him when Dr. Bell passed the instruments. Dr. Bell wrote to Mr. Webber to attend, but he would not; I went to Norwich that day, and by my husband’s desire I called on Mr. Webber, and asked him to come and see him; he came and examined him, and said inflammation had taken place, but he would do his best endeavours for him. Mr. Webber attended him five weeks, and he came home on the 30th of March last. Mr. Coleby attended him the next day, and continued to attend him until he died, on Friday, the 14th of May—he frequently complained of his kidneys.”

The next evidence was Margaret Phillips, an experienced nurse, who stated “Her lodgings and services were engaged by Dr. Bell, and that the deceased was placed under her care, on the 11th of February—she was present when Dr. Bell sounded him for stone, which was done in the presence of Mr. Webber. The instruments he used with considerable force, but he could not succeed in passing them. The poor man suffered very much, which no doubt induced Mr. Webber to call out “That’s not my way of sounding, let me try.” But Dr. Bell refused. He jumped up and getting another sound, attempted to pass it with no better success. I called out “Dr. Bell, the instrument is cold, for God’s sake have some hot water, and oil it well,” for previously he had only oiled it slightly. He took my advice, he used another instrument, and applying considerable force, he passed it through, and during the time the patient suddenly called out “I feel it go through somewhere, it hurts me dreadfully.” After this, Dr. Bell said to Mr. Webber “do you try,” which Mir; Webber did, but observing “I prefer my own sound,” which he, without difficulty, immediately passed. I saw some blood escape, not much, immediately after Dr. Bell withdrew his instrument.