He also attacked the conduct of Mr. Stevens, the stepfather, for, as he said, “goading and irritating Palmer into incautious expressions, by insinuating that he had stolen a trumpery betting-book that could not be of use to anyone;” and attributed Palmer’s anxiety to nominate a local solicitor to manage affairs to the nature of the pecuniary transactions, so much relying on honour, making them far more easy of adjustment by a friendly than by a hostile agent. As for Myatt, the postboy’s, story of the bribe for upsetting the fly, he attributed that to a personal feeling against the “meddlesome old gentleman,” as he called Stevens, and not to any idea of destroying the probable proofs of his delinquency. His marked attention to Cook during his illness he attributed to the interest he necessarily felt in his life, and the sending of broth and other things from his own house to the wish to save expense at a time when neither of them were too well off. “Would he,” said Serjeant Shee, “dream of sending poisoned broth to an inn, where it was sure to be tasted by the cook?”
In addition to the scientific witnesses which he would call to rebut those of the prosecution’s, he would prove that Cook, previously to the Shrewsbury meeting, was suffering severely from a syphilitic state of throat, and applying to Palmer for remedies for it—that Palmer could not have been in Rugeley at the time at which Newton swore that he sold the strychnia to him, and that the incident at the “Raven,” at Shrewsbury, of the brandy-and-water was a fiction. To what this evidence of previous illness amounted, and how the two witnesses who were to negative Newton and disprove the scene at the “Raven” fared when put in the box, will be seen in the report of their examination.[67] Great stress was of course laid on Palmer’s not only calling in Dr. Bamford, but sending for Mr. Jones, Cook’s firmest friend, to witness what proved his last day of life, and on the improbability of Palmer tampering with the medicines under such professional supervision.
“Is it conceivable that if Palmer meant to slay Cook with poison in the dead of night, he would previously have insured the presence in his victim’s chamber of a medical witness, who would know from his frightful symptoms that the man was not dying a natural death? He brings a medical man into his room, and makes him lie within a few inches of the sick man’s bed, that he may be startled with his terriffic shrieks, and gaze on those agonizing convulsions which indicate the fatal potency of the poison. Can you believe it? He might have dispatched him by means that defy detection, for Cook was taking morphia medicinally, and a grain or two more would have silently thrown him into an eternal sleep;[68] but instead of this he sends to Lutterworth for Jones. You have been told that this was done to cover appearances. Done to cover appearances! No, no, no! You cannot believe it. It is not in human nature. It cannot be true. You cannot find him guilty. You dare not find him guilty on the supposition of its truth. The country will not stand by you if you believe it to be true. You will be impeached before the whole world if you say that it is true. I believe in my conscience it is false, because, consistently with the laws that govern human nature, it cannot be true.”
“The incident of his being found searching the clothes and under the pillow,” said counsel, “ought not to be looked upon as suspicious, as Mills, who came into the room at the time, thought no suspicion of it, and there was nothing but the evidence of a kind and considerate character in his having ordered the shell and the coffin; nor was it possible to torture into a presumption of guilt the few words of irritation which may have fallen from him in the course of a conversation in which Mr. Stevens treated him with scorn, not to say with insolence.” And then, alluding to the entry as to the effects of strychnia in one of his medical books, the learned Serjeant turned it most adroitly to his own purpose, as the basis of a peroration so telling in its language and perfect in its construction that it must be preserved intact.
“The Crown had, no doubt, originally intended to rely upon the prisoner’s medical books as affording damning proof of his guilt; but I will refer to those volumes for evidences that will speak eloquently in his favour. In youth and early manhood there is no such protection for a man as the society of an innocent and virtuous woman to whom he is sincerely attached. If you find a young man devoted to such a woman, loving her dearly, and marrying her for the love he bears her, you may depend upon it that he is a man of humane and gentle nature, little prone to deeds of violence. To such a woman was Palmer attached in his youth, and I will bring you proof positive to show that the volumes cited against him were the books he used when a student, and that the manuscript passages are in the handwriting of his wife. His was a marriage of the heart. He loved that young and virtuous woman with a pure and generous affection; he loved her as he now loves her first-born, who awaits with trembling anxiety the verdict that will restore him to the arms of his father, or drive that father to an ignominious death upon the scaffold.” [The prisoner here covered his face with his hands and shed tears.] “Here in this book I have conclusive evidence of the kind of man that Palmer was seven years ago. I find in its pages the copy of a letter addressed by him while still a student to the woman whom he afterwards made his wife. It is as follows:—
“‘My dearest Annie,—I snatch a moment from my studies to your dear, dear little self. I need scarcely say that the principal inducement I have to work is the desire of getting my studies finished, so as to be able to press your dear little form in my arms. With best, best love, believe me, dearest Annie,
‘Your own William.’
“Now this is not the sort of letter that is generally read in courts of justice. It was no part of my instructions to read that letter, but the book was put in to prove that this man is a wicked, heartless, savage desperado; and I show you what he was seven years ago—that he was a man who loved a young woman for her own sake—loved her with a pure and virtuous affection—such an affection as would, in almost all natures, be a certain antidote against guilt. Such is the man whom it has been my duty to defend upon this occasion, and upon the evidence that is before you I cannot believe him to be guilty. Don’t suppose, gentlemen, that he is unsupported in this dreadful trial by his family and his friends. An aged mother, who may have disapproved of some part of his conduct, awaits with trembling anxiety your verdict; a dear sister can scarcely support herself under the suspense which now presses upon her; a brave and gallant brother stands by him to defend him, and spares neither time nor trouble to save him from an awful doom. I call upon you, gentlemen, to raise your minds to a capacity to estimate the high duty which you have to perform. You have to stem the torrent of prejudice; you have to vindicate the honour and character of your country; you have, with firmness and courage, to do your duty, and to find a verdict for the Crown if you believe that guilt is proved; but, if you have a doubt upon that point, depend upon it that the time will come when the innocence of that man will be made apparent, and when you will deeply regret any want of due and calm consideration of the case which it has been my duty to lay before you.”
THE REPLY.
The greater part of the tenth day was occupied with the reply of the Attorney-General, dealing in the first part with the medico-scientific evidence brought forward for the defence, and contrasting it with that on the part of the prosecution, and in the latter part pressing home with all his force of criticism and power of language the suspicious acts of the prisoner before and after the death of Cook. Between idiopathic and traumatic tetanus he drew the distinction, “supported,” as he said, “by the evidence of men who had seen, not here and there a stray case, but numerous instances of that disease, that the former was a disease of days, and even weeks, and not of hours or minutes.” He pointed out that such were really the symptoms in the cases adduced for the defence, and ridiculed the notion that the old ulcers of the spring of the year, with which Dr. Savage had dealt successfully, could be assigned as the causes of this form of disease in Cook’s case, and then criticised seriatim the other forms of convulsive disease to which the witnesses for the defence attributed it. After referring to the statements of Dr. Savage and Mr. Stevens as to the state of Cook’s health prior to his departure for Shrewsbury races, he thus dealt with the evidences of his state of health offered by the prisoner’s witnesses:—