Trial of William Palmer

Part 30

Chapter 304,014 wordsPublic domain

Nevertheless, I pass on from that, and go to Rugeley. From the Saturday morning until the Monday morning I find this poor man suffering under the influence of constant vomiting; that was not the Shrewsbury disease--he had got rid of it; he was well on Thursday and he was well on Friday. On Saturday morning, after dining at Mr. Palmer’s, he is taken ill; and then we have the fact of Mr. Palmer administering his food, administering his remedies, sending over toast and water, sending over broth; and, no sooner has this poor man taken those things than he is seized with incessant vomitings of the most painful description. What about the broth? The broth is said to-day by Smith to have been sent from the Albion. Yes; and where does it find its way to? It is taken, not to the Talbot Arms, but to the prisoner’s kitchen. After that, instead of leaving it, as one would suppose he would leave it, to the woman to take to the Talbot Arms, he takes it himself from the fire, puts it into the cup, gives it to her, it is taken over, and the man vomits immediately after he has drunk it. On the Sunday the same thing is done again; the broth is brought from the same quarter, and attended with the same results. Of that broth the woman takes a couple of spoonfuls, and she is sick for several hours. She vomits twenty times, and is unable to leave her bed for some hours. My learned friend said she did not state that before the coroner. Nevertheless, it is sworn to by the other servant that the woman was ill. I can quite understand why the woman did not state it before the coroner. It shows the honesty of the woman’s character. It did not occur to her to connect the sickness from which she suffered with the taking of the broth; but afterwards, when the story of the antimony came up, and Cook’s sickness was connected with it, then she remembered perfectly well, after the evidence had been given, how she, having taken the broth, immediately became ill. The fact is not one capable of dispute, although it may be that she did not mention it before the coroner. And I think you will regard it as a very important and significant fact in the case, that, on the Monday when Palmer is absent, Cook is better. On the Tuesday he vomits again, though not in the same degree. But after death--now comes the important fact--antimony is found in the tissues of that man’s body, and his blood shows the presence of it; the blood shows distinctly that it must have been taken recently, within the last eight-and-forty hours previous to his death. How came it there? The small quantity that is found does not form the slightest criterion of the quantity that had been administered to him. Part of it, you know, would be thrown up by the act of vomiting which it provokes; part of it would pass away in other forms, but none would be there unless he had taken some. When did he take it? If you find that he is suffering from vomiting for days before his death--that a person is constantly administering things to him, and after taking those things he vomits--when the prisoner sends him over a basin of broth he vomits, and when the servant takes a couple of spoonfuls she is reduced to the same condition--what other conclusion can you come to, knowing that antimony is an irritant that will produce vomiting and retching in the human system, than that the antimony must have been administered to him by some one? By whom? Who but the prisoner at the bar could have done it? My learned friend says Cook might have taken antimony at some former time--that he might have taken James’ powder for a cold. There is not the slightest trace of evidence from the beginning to the end of the case that he ever had a cold, or ever took James’ powder over the whole period we are now ranging. Moreover, as I have even now said, it was in his blood, it must have been administered eight-and-forty hours before death; who could have administered it but the prisoner at the bar? I ask you to form your own judgment upon that matter, but I cannot resist the conclusion, it is irresistible. If so, for what purpose was it administered; it is difficult to say with anything like precision; one can only speculate upon it. It may have been, however, to produce the appearance of natural disease, to account for the calling in of medical men, and to account for the catastrophe which was already in preparation; but it may also have had another and a different object, and it is this--if we are right as to the motives which impelled the prisoner at the bar to commit this great crime, it was, at all events in part, that he might possess himself of the money which Cook would have to realise upon the settling day at Tattersall’s on Monday. If Cook went there himself the scheme was frustrated; Mr. Cook intended to go there himself, and if he had done so the prisoner’s designs would have failed of accomplishment. To make him ill at Shrewsbury--to get him in consequence to go to Rugeley, instead of going to London or anywhere else--to make him ill again and keep him ill at Rugeley might be part of a cleverly contrived and organised scheme. It might have been with one or other of those motives, it might have been with both, that the antimony was administered, and so sickness produced, but that the sickness was produced and that the antimony was afterwards found in the body are incapable of dispute. Put them together and you have cause and effect; and if you are satisfied that antimony was introduced into that poor man’s body for the purpose of producing vomiting and sickness, then, I say there is no one who could have given it to him within that recent period but the prisoner at the bar. Neither the doctor at Shrewsbury nor the doctor at Rugeley ever gave him one fraction of antimony which had those natural effects which as a cause it was certain to produce; then it will be for you to ask yourselves whether it can have been with any other than a fell purpose and design--with a view of paving the way for the more important act which was afterwards to follow.

My learned friend has dealt with this case of antimony in no other way than that which I have suggested, namely, casting out some loose, floating, imaginary notion that at some period or other, for which no precise date is given, he may have taken James’ powder for the purpose of getting rid of a cold. Alas! gentlemen, I feel that so idle an objection cannot stand between you and the conclusion which, I submit to you, arises from the fact that this antimony was given to Mr. Cook with a wicked design. If it was, just see the important influence which it exercises upon the other question. If antimony was found--if antimony can have been given with no legitimate object, and if it can only have been given by the prisoner at the bar--how great does it render the probability that to carry out the purpose, whatever it may be, that he had in his mind, he gave him this strychnia, of which the deadly effects and consequences have been but too plainly made manifest.

[Sidenote: Attorney-General]

Then, gentlemen, let us take the conduct of the prisoner into consideration in the after stages of the case, and also in one remarkable particular--in an incident that took place on the day of the death, on the evening of the preparation of the pills--and in his conduct taken in all its circumstances I fear you will find but too cogent proofs of his guilt. I begin with the Tuesday, the day of the death. Mr. Cook had had what every one will admit to have been a most severe fit on the night before. Dr. Bamford comes upon the Tuesday, but not a word is said to him about it. He comes, and the prisoner is solicitous that he shall not see Cook; and twice in the course of that morning, when old Mr. Bamford is desirous of coming up to see the man, the prisoner said, “He is tranquil and dozing; I wish him not to be disturbed.” That may have been innocent, but on the other hand, if Dr. Bamford had come at that time when the fit was fresh in Cook’s mind, the probability is great that Cook would have told him what had happened the night before. Cook does not see him till seven o’clock, when Mr. Jones had arrived. One would have expected that, having been invited to come by the prisoner, the first thing Mr. Palmer would have done would have been to mention how he found him the night before. He talks of nothing but about the bilious symptoms--bilious at Shrewsbury, bilious to Dr. Bamford, and bilious to Mr. Jones; and thus he is represented throughout by the prisoner at the bar, yet all this time the medical men agree in saying that there was not a bilious symptom about him from beginning to end; no feverish skin, no loaded tongue, and none of the concomitants of a bilious condition. The moment Mr. Jones sees him, considering he had heard that this man was suffering under a bilious affection, he says, “That is not the tongue of a bilious patient.” The only answer he gets is, “You should have seen it before.” When? When the man saw him at Shrewsbury, or when Dr. Bamford saw him, they both found his tongue perfectly clean; the irritation in the bowels was not the result of natural action, but of the antimony; and not one single word does he say to Mr. Jones of the fit that had taken place the night before. It is a remarkable circumstance, when the three medical men are consulting at the bedside, the patient says, “I will have no more pills--no more medicine to-night,” intimating that his sufferings of the night before he ascribed to the pills which he had taken. There is no observation made by Mr. Palmer as to what had been the nature of the man’s attack the night before, he having been called up in the dead of the night. They go into an adjoining room to consult as to the best thing to be done. The man had declared his aversion to taking any pills or medicine; and Mr. Palmer immediately proposes that he shall take the same pills that he took the night before. He says to Mr. Jones, “Do not tell him the contents, because he has a strong objection to them.” It is arranged to have the pills made up; he does not wait to have the pills sent by Dr. Bamford, though it was early in the evening, but he accompanies Dr. Bamford down to his surgery. I cannot for the life of me understand why Dr. Bamford should have made up those pills at all. The prisoner had a surgery of his own close by, and he could have made up the pills in two minutes, he knew perfectly well their contents, instead of which he goes down with Dr. Bamford to his surgery. One would have supposed it would have been quite enough, as he was the person who every night administered the pills to Cook, if Dr. Bamford put the pills in a box and handed them over to Mr. Palmer, who knew what was to be done with them, instead of which Mr. Palmer asks Dr. Bamford to write the direction. He does write the direction, and then Mr. Palmer walks away with the pills. An interval occurs of an hour or two, during which time he had abundant opportunity of going home to his surgery and doing what he pleased in the way of substituting other pills. He comes back, and before he gives the pills he takes care to call the attention of Mr. Jones, who was present, to the remarkable handwriting of the old gentleman, Dr. Bamford, as being worthy of attention in a man of his advanced age. What necessity was there for all that? Was not it, think you, part of a scheme, that in case there should afterwards be any question as to the cause of this man’s death, or the possibility of his having had poison administered to him, he should be able to say to Mr. Jones, “Why, you know they were Dr. Bamford’s pills. You were present at the bedside of the deceased, you saw that I administered nothing except pills, and you must be clear they were Dr. Bamford’s pills. Did not I show you the address written, and call your attention to the excellence of the handwriting?” Who knows but all that prevented the possibility of suspicion being excited and presenting itself to the mind of Mr. Jones.

[Sidenote: Attorney-General]

Now, any one of those circumstances in itself would not be such as I could venture to submit to you as conclusive of the prisoner’s guilt, but I ask your attention to a series of things following one upon the other, which, at the same time, are of a most remarkable character, and, taken as a whole, lead but to one conclusion. The death having taken place (I am passing over for a moment other circumstances which have no reference to the immediate cause of death, I shall come back to them in another part of the case), we find the father-in-law comes down to Rugeley upon the Friday. Let us see what the conduct of the prisoner is then. The father-in-law applies to him for information on the subject of his stepson’s affairs. I pass that over, because that, too, will come under a different head; but having done so, and it appearing from the representation which the father-in-law made that the man had died in comparative poverty, something is said about his being buried. “Well,” says Mr. Stevens, “rich or poor, poor fellow, he must be buried.” Mr. Palmer immediately says, “If that is all, I will bury him myself.” “No,” says the stepfather, and the brother interposes. Mr. Stevens says, “No, I am his stepfather and his executor, and it is my place to bury him.” Well, there is nothing in all that. Palmer may have said, with regard to his friend, that he would see the last respect paid to his memory. But there is this remarkable thing, when the stepfather says that nobody shall bury him but himself, and makes the observation that perhaps it will be inconvenient to the people at the inn to have him lying there for two or three days, because he intended to have him buried in town, so that the poor man might lie in the same grave with his mother--immediately after this Palmer says, “There will be no harm in that, he can stay as long as you like; but the body ought to be put in a coffin immediately.” After that Mr. Stevens gets into conversation with Dr. Bamford about his son-in-law, and while they are in conversation Mr. Palmer slips away, goes out into the town, and comes back in about half an hour, when Mr. Stevens asks him for the name of some undertaker in order that he may go and give the undertaker directions about the funeral, and he finds to his surprise that Mr. Palmer has gone out, and has himself, without any authority, ordered a shell and a strong oak coffin in order that the body may be immediately put away. This, again, is a circumstance not unworthy of consideration. Why should he interfere and meddle in a matter which did not concern him, and which it was the business and province of another man to attend to, except this, that he had made up his mind that that body should be consigned to its last resting-place and removed from the sight of man with as much rapidity as circumstances would permit of? You have heard what took place in the course of conversation upon the subject of the betting book. I pass that by for the present.

I now come to Saturday, when, returning from London, Mr. Stevens and Mr. Palmer met in the railway train, and at the different stations when the train stopped had conversations with one another; and it appeared at that time Mr. Stevens had fully made up his mind to have the body examined--there were circumstances which had engendered suspicion in his mind; he had seen the attitude of the corpse; he had seen the clenched hands; and, being a man of sagacity and shrewdness, upon putting things together, there was a lurking suspicion in his mind that he could not overcome, and he was determined that he would be satisfied, and he made known his intention of having the body examined before it was consigned to the grave. It is due to Mr. Palmer to say that he did not flinch from the trying ordeal of Mr. Stevens’ scrutinising glance when he mentioned the subject of post-mortem examination; he makes no objection to the post-mortem examination; he is anxious to know who shall perform it, but Mr. Stevens will not inform him of the fact. It is to take place, and it is appointed to take place on the Monday. On the Sunday we have that remarkable conversation to which Newton speaks, and which has been in the possession of the Crown (it is not, like the other part of his evidence, brought forward at the last moment) and in the possession of my learned friend. It is true he did not state it before the coroner, but the explanation is extremely easy. Before the coroner, Roberts was the man who came forward to prove the purchase of strychnia, and vouched Newton being there. Newton was immediately fetched, and his deposition will be found immediately following that of Roberts; not for the purpose of giving a general statement, but for the purpose of corroborating Roberts, which he does. Hence it came to pass, in answering only the questions which were put to him by the coroner, nothing was said upon the subject of that Sunday’s conversation, but it was given immediately afterwards to the Crown.

[Sidenote: Attorney-General]

I think you will not believe that Newton comes forward for the purpose of making a false representation as to this conversation. What was the conversation? He is sent for by Mr. Palmer to his house, and he is treated with a glass of brandy and water, and when he has a glass of brandy and water they get into general conversation, and then, I think, the prisoner says, “How much strychnia would you give if you wanted to kill a dog?” “Why, I should give from half a grain to a grain.” “Would you expect to find any appearances in the stomach after death?” “No inflammation or erosion, no appearances.” Upon which a sort of half-uttered ejaculation comes from the prisoner. “That is all right,” and a sort of action of the hands. Was that entirely an invention? Was nothing said about a dog? Was nothing said about strychnia? Now, it may have proceeded from two causes, if you believe the conversation. It may have been that the prisoner was in a state of great anxiety when he found the post-mortem examination was to take place, and he was anxious to know whether the views of another medical man confirmed his own with regard to the appearances in the body after death, where death had been occasioned by strychnia. It may have been that he meditated some trickery, some jugglery, that involved the real destruction of a dog, which may have given rise to those questions which were suggested on the part of the defence to one of the witnesses who were called; it may have been that something was in contemplation to destroy or attempt to destroy a dog, to account for the purchase of the strychnia, which he knew was likely to be brought up in evidence against him, and which it would be a difficult matter to explain. Whether any such attempt was afterwards made I know not; I imagined that we were going to have some evidence to that effect, from the questions that were asked, but no such evidence has been afforded--not the slightest as to what purpose this quantity of strychnia has been applied. It has not been found upon the prisoner’s premises. What has become of it? I cannot solve precisely the secret of that conversation. Like many other matters in this case, it remains a mystery; but this I know, I can look at it in no aspect in which it does not reflect light upon the guilt in which this transaction is involved; if you can solve the difficulty, for heaven’s sake do, but I can suggest to you no solution. From that man Newton, then, he got his strychnia on the Monday night, and for that man he sends on the Sunday. With that man he holds a conversation--was it with the view of leading Newton to believe that it was for the purpose of killing a dog he had got it? These are speculations and surmises, into which I do not deem it necessary further to go. It will be for you to say whether you can entertain any doubt upon all these facts, when they are before you, that this death was occasioned by strychnia, and that that strychnia was administered by the prisoner, either from what he obtained upon the Monday night, or from that which, beyond the possibility of question, he obtained upon the Tuesday, for which he has failed to account, and for which, indeed, he has not attempted to account.

But, then, my learned friend says that the man had no motive to take away the life of his friend, and it is right we should see how that matter stands. Gentlemen, if, indeed, I have satisfied you, beyond the reach of reasonable doubt, by the evidence I have adduced, and by the failure on the part of the evidence for the defence to neutralise its effect, that the death here was occasioned by strychnia--that the strychnia could have been administered by no one, and, in fact, was administered by no one, save Mr. Palmer--the question of motive becomes a matter of secondary consideration. It is often difficult to dive into the breasts of men, to understand the motives that have been working there, and by those motives to account for their actions. Omniscience alone can exercise that faculty and that power; and therefore, where acts are proved against a man beyond the reach of reasonable doubt, it is not because we may not be able to exercise a sufficiently scrutinising power to ascertain the motives that we are to doubt the facts, the existence of which is brought beyond the reach of reasonable doubt; but nevertheless it is always an important element in a case, and it is, above all, an important element in a case upon which any reasonable doubt can by possibility rest, to see whether there was an adequate motive to lead to the perpetration of the act which is charged. On the other hand, gentlemen, we must not be too precise in weighing the question of adequacy of motive; that which, to the good, would appear of no influence, however remote or minute, in inducing them to commit crime, oftentimes, with the wicked, is quite sufficient to impel them into crime, and it may have been so here.

[Sidenote: Attorney-General]