About seven o’clock that same evening Dr. Bamford called, and found the patient pretty well. Subsequently the three medical men (Palmer, Bamford, and Jones) held a consultation, but before leaving the bedroom for that purpose, Cook beckoned to Palmer, and said, “Mind, I will have no more pills or medicine to-night.” They then withdrew and consulted. Palmer insisted on his taking pills, but added, “Let us not tell him what they contain, as he fears the same results that have already given him such pain.” It was agreed that Dr. Bamford should make up the pills, which were to be composed of the same ingredients as those that had been administered on the three preceding evenings. The doctor repaired to his surgery, and made them up accordingly. He was followed by Palmer, who asked him to write the directions how they were to be taken. Dr. Bamford, though unable to understand the necessity of his doing so, under the circumstances, complied with Palmer’s request, and wrote on the box that the pills were to be taken at “bed-time.” Palmer then took them away, and gave either those pills or some others to Cook that night. It is remarkable, however, that half or three-quarters of an hour elapsed from the time he left Dr. Bamford’s surgery until he brought the pills to Cook. When, at length, he came, he produced two pills, but before giving them to Cook he took especial care to call Mr. Jones’s attention to the directions on the lid, observing that the writing was singularly distinct and vigorous for a man upwards of eighty. If the prisoner be guilty, it is a natural presumption that he made this observation with the view of identifying the pill-box as having come from Dr. Bamford, and so averting suspicion from himself. This was about half-past ten at night. The pills were then offered to Cook, who strongly objected to take them, remarking that they had made him ill the night before. Palmer insisted, and the sick man at last consented to take them. He vomited immediately after, but did not bring up the pills. Jones then went down and took his supper, and he will tell you that up to the period when the pills were administered, Cook had been easy and cheerful, and presented no symptom of the approach of disease, much less of death. It was arranged that Jones should sleep in the same room with Cook, and he did so; but he had not been more than fifteen or twenty minutes in bed when he was aroused by a sudden exclamation, and a frightful scream from Cook, who, starting up, said, “Send for the doctor immediately; I am going to be ill, as I was last night.” The chambermaid ran across the road, and rang the bell of Palmer’s house, and in a moment Palmer was at the window. He was told that Cook was again ill. In two minutes he was by the bedside of the sick man, and, strangely, volunteered the observation, “I never dressed so quickly in my life.” It is for you, gentlemen, to say whether you think he had time to dress at all. Cook was found in the same condition, and with the same symptoms as the night before, gasping for breath, screaming violently, his body convulsed with cramps and spasms, and his neck rigid. Jones raised him and rubbed his neck. When Palmer entered the room, Cook asked him for the same remedy that had relieved him the night before. “I will run back and fetch it,” said Palmer, and he darted out of the room. In the passage he met two female servants, who remarked that Cook was as “bad” as he had been last night. “He is not within fifty times as bad as he was last night; and what a game is this to be at every night!” was Palmer’s reply. In a few minutes he returned with two pills, which he told Jones were ammonia, though I am assured that it is a drug that requires much time in the preparation, and can with difficulty be made into pills. The sick man swallowed these pills, but brought them up again immediately.
And now ensued a terrible scene. He was instantly seized with violent convulsions; by degrees his body began to stiffen out; then suffocation commenced. Agonised with pain, he repeatedly entreated to be raised. They tried to raise him, but it was not possible. The body had become rigid as iron, and it could not be done. He then said, “Pray, turn me over.” They did turn him over on the right side. He gasped for breath, but could utter no more. In a few moments all was tranquil—the tide of life was ebbing fast. Jones leant over him to listen to the action of the heart. Gradually the pulse ceased—all was over—he was dead. (Sensation.) I will show you that his was a death referable in its symptoms to the tetanus produced by strychnine, and not to any other possible form of tetanus. Scarcely was the breath out of his body when Palmer begins to think of what is to be done. He engages two women to lay out the corpse, and these women, on entering the room, find him searching the pockets of a coat which, no doubt, belonged to Cook, and hunting under the pillows and bolsters. They saw some letters in the mantel-shelf, which, in all probability, had been taken out of the dead man’s pocket; and, what is very remarkable is, that from that day to this, nothing has been seen or heard either of the betting-book or of any of the papers connected with Cook’s money affairs. On a subsequent day (Thursday) he returned, and, on the pretence of looking for some books, and a paper knife, rummaged again through the documents of the deceased. On the 25th of November he sent for Cheshire, and, producing a paper purporting to bear the signature of Cook, asked him to attest it. Cheshire glanced over it. It was a document in which Cook acknowledged that certain bills, to the amount of £4,000 or thereabouts, were bills that had been negotiated for his (Cook’s) benefit, and in respect of which Palmer had received no consideration. Such was the paper to which, forty-eight hours after the death of the man whose name it bore, Palmer did not hesitate to ask Cheshire to be an attesting witness. Cheshire, though unfortunately for himself, too much the slave of Palmer, peremptorily refused to comply with this request; whereupon Palmer carelessly observed, “It is of no consequence; I dare say the signature will not be disputed, but it occurred to me that it would look more regular if it were attested.”
On Friday Mr. Stevens, Cook’s father-in-law, came down to Rugeley, and, after viewing the body of his relative, to whom he had been tenderly attached, asked Palmer about his affairs. Palmer assured him that he held a paper drawn up by a lawyer, and signed by Cook, stating that, in respect of £4,000 worth of bills, he (Cook) was alone liable, and that Palmer had a claim to that amount against his estate. Mr. Stevens expressed his amazement, and replied that there would not be 4,000 shillings for the holders of the bills. Subsequently Palmer displayed an eager officiousness in the matter of the funeral, taking upon himself to order a shell and an oak coffin without any directions to that effect from the relatives of the deceased, who were anxious to have the arrangements in their own hands. Mr. Stevens ordered dinner at the hotel for Bamford, Jones, and himself, and, finding Palmer still hanging about him, thought it but civil to extend the invitation to him. Accordingly they all sat down together. After dinner, Mr. Stevens asked Jones to step upstairs and bring down all books and papers belonging to Cook. Jones left the room to do so, and Palmer followed him. They were absent about ten minutes, and on their return Jones observed that they were unable to find the betting-book or any of the papers belonging to the deceased. Palmer added, “The betting-book would be of no use to you if you found it, for the bets are void by his death.” Mr. Stevens replied, “The book must be found;” and then Palmer, changing his tone, said, “Oh, I dare say it will turn up.” Mr. Stevens then rang the bell, and told the housekeeper to take charge of whatever books and papers had belonged to Cook, and to be sure not to allow any one to meddle with them until he came back from London, which he would soon do, with his solicitor. He then departed, but, returning to Rugeley after a brief interval, declared his intention to have a post mortem examination. Palmer volunteered to nominate the surgeons who should conduct it, but Mr. Stevens refused to employ any one whom he should recommend. On Sunday, the 26th, Palmer called on Dr. Bamford, and asked him for a certificate attesting the cause of Cook’s death. The doctor expressed his surprise, and observed, “Why, he was your patient?” But Palmer importuned him, and Bamford taking the pen filled up the certificate, and entered the cause of death as “apoplexy.” Dr. Bamford is upwards of 80, and I hope that it is to some infirmity connected with his great age that this most unjustifiable act is to be attributed. However, he shall be produced in court, and he will tell you that apoplexy has never been known to produce tetanus. In the course of the day Palmer sent for Newton, and after they had had some brandy-and-water, asked him how much strychnine he would use to kill a dog. Newton replied, “from half-a-grain to a grain.” “And how much,” inquired Palmer, “would be found in the tissues and intestines after death?” “None at all,” was Newton’s reply; but that is a point on which I will produce important evidence.
The post mortem examination took place the next day, and on that occasion Palmer assured the medical men, of whom there were many present, that Cook had had epileptic fits on Monday and Tuesday, and that they would find old disease in the heart and head. He added that the poor fellow was “full of disease,” and had “all kinds of complaints.” These statements were completely disproved by the post mortem examinations. At the first of them, conducted by Dr. Devonshire, the liver, lungs, and kidneys were all found healthy. It was said that there were some slight indications of congestion of the kidneys, whether due to decomposition or to what other cause was not certain; but it was admitted on all hands that they did not impair the general health of the system, or at all account for death. The stomach and intestines were examined, and they exhibited a few white spots at the large end of the stomach, but these marks were wholly insufficient to explain the cause of dissolution. Dr. Bamford contended that there was some slight congestion of the brain, but all the other medical men concurred in thinking that there was none at all. In the ensuing month of January the body was exhumed with a view to more accurate examination, and the body was then found to be in a perfectly normal and healthy condition. Palmer seemed rejoiced at the discovery, and, turning to Dr. Bamford, exclaimed, “Doctor, they won’t hang us yet!” The stomach and intestines were taken out and placed in a jar, and it was observed that Palmer pushed against the medical man who was engaged in the operation, and the jar was in danger of being upset. It escaped, however, and was covered with skins, tied down, and sealed. Presently one of the medical men turned round, and finding that the jar had disappeared, asked what had become of it. It was found at a distance, near a different door from that through which people usually passed in and out, and Palmer exclaimed, “It’s all right. It was I who removed it. I thought it would be more convenient for you to have it here, that you might lay your hands readily on it as you went out.” When the jar was recovered it was found that two slits had been cut in the skins with a knife. The slits, however, were clean, so that, whatever his object may have been in making the incisions, it is certain that nothing was taken out of the jar. He goes to Dr. Bamford, and remonstrates against the removal of the jars. He says, “I do not think we ought to allow them to be taken away.” Now, if he had been an ignorant person, not familiar with the course likely to be pursued by medical men under such circumstances, there might be some excuse for this; but it is for you to ask yourselves whether Palmer, himself a medical man, knowing that the contents of the jars were to be submitted to an analysis, might not have relied with confidence on the honour and integrity of the profession to which he belonged. You must say whether his anxiety to prevent the removal of the jars was not a sign of a guilty conscience. Dr. Bamford was a most respectable physician, and his character and position were well known to Palmer.
But the case does not stop here. The jar was delivered to Mr. Boycott, the clerk to Mr. Gardner, the solicitor. Palmer, finding that it was to be sent to London for chymical analysis, was extremely anxious that it should not reach its destination. It was going to be conveyed by Mr. Boycott to the Stafford station in a fly, driven by a post-boy. Palmer goes to this post-boy, and asks him whether it is the fact that he is going to drive Boycott to Stafford? He is answered in the affirmative. He then asks, “Are the jars there?” He is told that they are. He says, “They have no business to take them; one does not know what they may put in them. Can’t you manage to upset the fly and break them? I will give you £10, and make it all right for you.” The man said, “I shall do no such thing. I must go and look after my fly.” That man will be called before you, and he will have no interest to state anything but the truth. I have now gone through the painful history, yet there are some points of minor importance which I ought not altogether to pass over, as nothing connected with the conduct of a man conscious that an imputation of this kind rests upon him can be immaterial. After the post mortem examination it was thought right to hold a coroner’s inquest. On two or three occasions in the course of that inquiry, Palmer sent presents to the coroner. The stomach of the deceased and its contents were sent to Dr. Taylor, and Dr. Rees, at Guy’s Hospital, who were known to be in communication with Mr. Gardner. A letter was sent by Dr. Taylor to Mr. Gardner, stating the result of the investigation; that letter was betrayed to Palmer by the postmaster, Cheshire, and Palmer then wrote to the coroner, telling him that Dr. Taylor and Dr. Rees had failed in finding traces of poison, and asking him to take a certain course with respect to the evidence. Why should he have done this if there had not been a feeling of uneasiness upon his mind? These matters must not be wholly overlooked, although I will not ask you to give them any undue importance. I should have told you, in addition, that the prisoner had no money prior to Shrewsbury races, while afterwards he was flush of cash. Sums of £100 and £150 were paid by him into the bank at Rugeley, two or three persons received sums of £10 each, and he seemed, in fact, to be giving away money right and left. I think I shall be able to show that he had something like £400 in his possession. Now, Cook had £700 or £800 when he left Shrewsbury on the Thursday morning. None is found. It may be that Cook, who, whatever his faults, was a kind-hearted creature, compassionating Palmer’s condition, and influenced by his representations, assisted him with money. That I do not know. I do not wish to strain the point too far, but one cannot imagine that Cook, who had no money but what he took with him to Shrewsbury, should have given Palmer everything and left himself destitute.
The case then stands thus:—Here is a man overwhelmed with pecuniary difficulties, obliged to resort to the desperate expedient of forging acceptances to raise money, hoping to meet them by the proceeds of the insurances he had effected upon a life. Disappointed in that expectation by the board; told by the gentleman through whom the bills had been discounted, “You must trifle with me no longer—if you cannot find money, writs will be served on you;” Cook’s name forged to an endorsement for £375; ruin staring him in the face—you, gentlemen, must say whether he had not sufficient inducement to commit the crime. He seems to have had a further object. No sooner is the breath out of the dead man’s body than he says to Jones, “I had a claim of £3,000 or £4,000 against him on account of bills.” Besides, he believed that Cook had more property than it turns out he really had. The valuable mare, Pole Star, belonged to him when the assignment had been paid off, and Palmer would have been glad to obtain possession of her. The fact, too, that Cook was mixed up in the insurance of Bates may lead one to surmise that he was in possession of secrets relating to the desperate expedients to which this man has resorted to obtain money. I will leave you to say whether this combination of motives may not have led to the crime with which he is charged. This you will only have to consider, supposing the case to be balanced between probabilities; but if you believe the evidence that will be given as to what took place on the Monday and the Tuesday—if you believe the paroxysms of the Monday, the mortal agony of the Tuesday—I shall show that things were administered, on both those days, by the hand of Palmer, by a degree of evidence almost amounting to certainty.
The body was submitted to a careful analysis, and I am bound to say that no trace of strychnine was found. But I am told that, although the presence of strychnine may be detected by certain tests, and although indications of its presence lead irresistibly to the conclusion that it has been administered, the converse of that proposition does not hold. Sometimes it is found, at other times it is not. It depends upon circumstances. A most minute dose will destroy life, from half to three-quarters of a grain will lay the strongest man prostrate. But in order to produce that fatal effect it must be absorbed into the system, and the absorption takes place in a greater or less period according to the manner in which the poison is presented to the surfaces with which it comes in contact. If it is in a fluid form it is rapidly taken up and soon produces the effect; if not, it requires to be absorbed, and the effects are a longer time in showing themselves. But in either case there is a difficulty in discovering its presence. If it acts only on the nervous system through the circulation, an almost infinitesimal dose will be present. And, as it is a vegetable poison, the tests which alone can be employed are infinitely more delicate and difficult than those which are applied to other poisons. It is unlike a mineral poison, which can soon be detected and reproduced. If the dose has been a large one death ensues before the whole has been absorbed, and a portion is left in the intestines; but if a minimum dose has been administered a different consequence follows, and the whole is absorbed. Practical experience bears out the theory that I am enunciating. Experiments have been tried which show that where the same amount of poison has been administered to animals of the same species death will ensue in the same number of minutes, accompanied by precisely the same kinds of symptoms; while in the analysis afterwards made, the presence of poison will be detected in one case and not in another. It has been repeated over and over again that the scientific men employed in this case had come to the conclusion that the presence of strychnine cannot be detected by any tests known to science. They have been grievously misunderstood. They never made any such assertion. What they have asserted is this—the detection of its presence, where its administration is a matter of certainty, is a matter of the greatest uncertainty. It would, indeed, be a fatal thing to sanction the notion that strychnine, administered for the purpose of taking away life, cannot afterwards be detected! Lamentable enough is the uncertainty of detection! Happily, Providence, which has placed this fatal agent at the disposition of man, has marked its effects with characteristic symptoms distinguishable from those of all other agents by the eye of science.
It will be for you to say whether the testimony that will be laid before you with regard to those symptoms does not lead your mind to the conclusion that the deceased came to his death by poison administered to him by the prisoner. There is a circumstance which throws great light upon this part of the case. Some days before his death the man was constantly vomiting. The analysis made of his body failed to produce evidence of the presence of strychnine, but did not fail to produce evidence of the presence of antimony. Now, antimony was not administered by the medical men, and unless taken in a considerable quantity it produces no effect and is perfectly soluble. It is an irritant, which produces exactly the symptoms which were produced in this case. The man was sick for a week, and antimony was found in his body afterwards. For what purpose can it have been administered? It may be that the original intention was to destroy him by means of antimony—it may be that the only object was to bring about an appearance of disease so as to account for death. One is lost in speculation. But the question is whether you have any doubt that strychnine was administered on the Monday, and still more on the Tuesday when death ensued? And if you are satisfied with the evidence that will be adduced on that point, you must then determine whether it was not administered by the prisoner’s hand. I shall produce testimony before you in proof of the statements I have made, which I am afraid must occupy some considerable portion of your time; but in such an inquiry time cannot be wasted, and I am sure you will give it your most patient attention. I have the satisfaction of knowing that the prisoner will be defended by one of the most eloquent and able men who ever adorned the bar of this country or any other forum, and that everything will be done for him that can be done. If in the end all should fail in satisfying you of his guilt, in God’s name let not the innocent suffer! If, on the other hand, the facts that will be presented to you should lead you to the conclusion that he is guilty, the best interests of society demand his conviction.
The opening address of the Attorney-General occupied upwards of four hours in its delivery. At its conclusion (at a quarter past 2 o’clock) the jury retired for a short time for refreshment, and upon their return the following witnesses were called in support of the prosecution:—
Ismael Fisher, examined by Mr. E. James: I am a wine merchant at 4 Victoria-street, City. I am in the habit of attending races and betting. I knew John Parsons Cook. I had known him for about two years before his death. I was at Shrewsbury races in November, 1855. I remember the Shrewsbury Handicap. It was won by the mare called Polestar, the property of Cook. It took place on Tuesday, November the 13th. I saw Cook upon the course. He looked as well as he had looked at any time since I had known him. I was stopping at the Raven Hotel at Shrewsbury. I know Palmer (the prisoner) very well. I have known him rather more than two years. Cook and Palmer were stopping at the same hotel, and occupied a room separated from mine only by a wooden partition. It was a sitting room, and they occupied it jointly. On the Wednesday night, between 11 and 12 o’clock, I went into the sitting-room. I found there Cook, Palmer, and Mr. Myatt, a saddler at Rugeley, a friend of Palmer’s. They had grog before them. I was asked to sit down by Cook, and I sat down. Cook asked Palmer to have some more brandy-and-water. Palmer said, “I will not have any more till you have drunk yours.” Cook said, “Then I will drink mine.” He took up his glass and drank the grog off immediately. He said within a minute afterwards, “There is something in it; it burns my throat dreadfully.” Palmer then got up, took the glass, sipped up what was left in it, and said, “There is nothing in it.” There was not more than a teaspoonful in the glass when he emptied it. In the mean time Mr. Read had come in. Palmer handed the glass to Read and to me, and asked if we thought there was anything in it. We both said the glass was so empty that we could not recognise anything. I said I thought there was rather a strong scent upon it, but I could not say it arose from anything but brandy.