The prisoner, the son of a respectable leather manufacturer at Leeds, had been, from his childhood to his seventh year, more than usually fractious, mischievous, ill-natured, and irrational in his tricks: putting lighted candles more than once in a basket and locking them in a cupboard: pouring some kind of spirits on his bedroom curtains and setting them on fire: chasing his sisters with a red-hot poker and threatening to burn them: hanging a cat by its tail out of window: cutting himself with knives and writing his name with his blood: an irregular and inapt scholar, especially in his religion.[73] The usher at his first school, where he was from the age of ten to thirteen years, regarded him “as a boy of very low intellect, great inability of mind, great want of moral power, evil and vicious propensities. Once, when he had got a pistol, he told his schoolfellows he was going to shoot his father—a dull boy, and a had boy. I then thought him insane, but did not feel myself in a position to object to his being flogged.”[74] Mr. Highley, the master of this school, spoke strongly of Dove’s bad conduct, which he attributed to his reasoning powers being very limited. “He appeared,” said the witness, “to have no idea of any consequences; to be deprived of reason. I am satisfied he was labouring under an aberration of intellect.”[75] Having been expelled from his school, his father took the opinion of a Mr. Lord, a schoolmaster, as to what was best to be done with the boy. “I could make no impression on his heart or his head,” said Mr. Lord. “He could not appreciate what I said. He listened, but I could make no impression—get no rational answers. When I heard of his engagement I told his future wife’s brother-in-law that inquiry ought to be made about Dove on account of his unaccountable irrational conduct.” By Mr. Lord’s advice, he was sent to learn farming, for more than five years, with a Mr. Frankish. Here again his mischievous and cruel propensities were exhibited—putting vitriol on the tails of some cows, burning half-grown kittens with it, putting it into the horse-trough, and setting fire to the gorse. He was as unapt a scholar at farming as at religion and grammar. Again, when he went to another farmer for a year, he was the same dull unpractical pupil. He was now sent to America for a short visit, returning with travellers’ stories of his adventures of unusual wildness and incredibility. Still, however, he was deemed by his father capable of being trusted with a farm, where his mischievous and extravagant conduct astonished his servants, and made them regard him as “not of a sound mind.”[76] At this time, 1852, he married, quarrelling or playing with his wife like a child, and changed his farm more than once, without apparent reason. Other witnesses spoke to the incoherence of his conversation: of his lying on the ground and crying without a cause; complaining of noises in his house; trying to reap his own corn in a green state; exhibiting conjuring tricks, and talking of having put a spell on the steward of the proprietor of one of his farms. Eventually, in consequence of his intemperate habits, he had to give up farming and remove into the outskirts of Leeds, where he lived on an annuity of £90 a year, left to him by his father, who died in 1854. With nothing to do, he became an habitual drunkard, aggravating his eccentricities, stimulating his mischievous propensities, and stupefying himself as to the consequences of his actions to himself.[77] With such propensities, it may be conceived that his wife led a wretched life; that quarrels were frequent; that at one time he threatened her with a pistol; and that eventually, after a very few years, they occupied separate beds, and rarely met, except at meals. Unfortunately for both of them, an arrangement for a separation was broken off by the interposition of injudicious friends, and until the beginning of 1856 they endured their miserable life together.
HISTORY OF THE CASE.
It was at this time that the enquiries into the death of Cook at Rugeley were filling the newspapers, and the evidence on the inquest became matter of popular discussion. Among Dove’s friends was one Harrison, known as the Witchman of Leeds, who, according to his own account, was “a dentist, a water caster, a caster of nativities, and a believer in the stars.” On hearing this man read, in a public-house, the results of the analytical examination of Cook’s body by Dr. Taylor, as related at the inquest, and that gentleman’s statement of the difficulty, if not impossibility, of discovering strychnia by chemical analysis, Dove appears to have been forcibly struck by the revelation. He asked Harrison either to make or get him some strychnia, and, when he refused, said he could get it elsewhere. Probably at that time the idea of poisoning his wife was first entertained by him. Unfortunately he had no difficulty in obtaining the necessary poison, as he was intimately acquainted with Mr. Morley, the surgeon of Leeds, who had attended the Dove family for many years, and was a constant visitor to his surgery. Subsequently, therefore, to his acquiring knowledge of what had happened in Palmer’s case, he had repeated conversations with one of Mr. Morley’s pupils about strychnia; and on the 10th of February, on the plea that his house was infested by rats, and that he was worried by his neighbour’s cats, he obtained from him ten grains of this deadly poison. This he placed about the house in a careless way, and destroyed a cat, the body of which he buried in the midden. Again on the 17th he got four or five grains more of strychnia, promising the pupil who gave it to him the skin of a grey cat which he professed to be about to poison with it. At this time, the pupil was of opinion that Dove noted whereabouts on the shelf the bottle of strychnia was placed. A few days after he was seen by Mr. Morley’s coachman in the surgery alone, with the gas turned up, which, as the coachman came near, he turned down, and in an apparent flurry, meeting him at the door, gave as his excuse that he had come to light his pipe.[78] The suggestion of the prosecution was that at this time, knowing where the bottle of strychnia was kept, he took the opportunity of helping himself to some more of the poison. During all this time it was evident, from his conversations on strychnia and the impossibility of its detection, that he had studied Palmer’s case.
Previously to Sunday, the 24th of February, Mrs. Dove had not been well, but on that day appeared quite recovered. On the Monday, however, when she went upstairs with her servant to make the beds, she was suddenly taken ill, staggered, became paralysed, twitched and jumped, and when put on the bed, on the slightest touch either of her body or the bedclothes, had renewed convulsions. Dove, who was downstairs, was sent for, and went for the doctor, to whom he said that his wife had been ill all night, and asked if his wife died would there be a coroner’s inquest?[79] After two or three hours the convulsions passed away, and the patient remained free from pain. Dove’s attention to his wife was suspiciously marked. He gave her medicine with his own hands; called in a neighbour to attend to her, and seemed greatly distressed at her condition. Three days after, a second attack of the same nature occurred, and again he told the doctor he was sure his wife would die. She was seen to cry bitterly, and heard to say that she was sure the medicine, of the bitter taste of which she complained, was killing her. Next evening a third attack came on, with the same symptoms. And on the 28th Dove predicted that she would have another attack about ten that evening; at that hour he gave her the medicine, and in half an hour afterwards another and more severe attack came on, so severe that she said, “Oh dear, I thought it was all over.” In all these attacks after a time the spasms and convulsions passed away, and she was apparently only suffering from exhaustion after them, and otherwise quite well. On Saturday Dove, who had gone out, returned much in liquor, and at 8 P.M. gave her her medicine. “It is very disagreeable,” she said, “hot and bitter.” He washed out the glass and wiped it as usual, saying, “I always wash it out; medicine is always such nasty stuff.” Within half an hour of taking this dose an attack more than usually violent came on, and after a series of spasms and convulsions the poor creature died about twenty minutes to eleven that night.
Struck with the resemblance of the symptoms of Mrs. Dove’s attacks to those due to poisoning by strychnia, and hearing from his pupil of the purchase of that drug by the prisoner, Mr. Morley, who had attended her, decided on having a post-mortem examination. This Dove, who had on her first attack asked Morley’s pupil whether Mr. Morley would have a post-mortem examination if his wife died, tried to prevent, on the plea of his having promised his wife that it should not be allowed, and his horror at the desecration of her body. Mr. Morley, however, obtained the consent of Dove’s mother, and persevered. On the examination of the body by himself and Mr. Nunneley, the surgeon, and the subsequent chemical analysis of its different parts, every test proved the presence of strychnia in large quantities. During the examination of the body, blood to the extent of a crown piece fell on the floor of the room, and a week after the spaniel of a woman who was cleaning the room was supposed to have licked it, and as she left on the completion of her work, was attacked with violent spasms, fell on its back, and died at once. On the examination of its body strychnia was also detected. The prisoner, who after his wife’s funeral had wandered about, asking Harrison and other persons whether it was safe to go back, and talking about the possibility of the wife having taken the strychnia by accident, as he had carelessly placed it in his razor case, and put it about in the house, was subsequently arrested and put upon his trial. It is needless to give in detail the evidence of the persons by whom the above facts were proved, which were hardly traversed by counsel for the defence. The testimony with reference to the symptoms and the results of the post-mortem examination cannot, however, with safety be abridged, seeing the importance attached to this case in Palmer’s trial.
THE SYMPTOMS.
Ann Fisher, who took her daughter’s place in the house in consequence of the latter’s illness, said—
“On Saturday and Sunday Mrs. Dove appeared pretty well, and on the latter day went to church. On Monday, February 25, after breakfast, she complained of her legs, and said she felt curious, and fell in the bedroom whilst helping witness to make the beds. Witness caught her in her arms, and called up Dove, who went for Mrs. Witham (next door neighbour), and witness put Mrs. Dove to bed. She started, and twitched, and jumped, and, even if witness touched the bedclothes, or walked across the room, complained that it made her worse. Mr. Scarth (Morley’s assistant) came and gave some medicine, and she felt better. The jerkings continued from two to two and a half hours. She lay on her right side, and her breathing was rather difficult: she was quite sensible the whole time. She seemed better in the afternoon, and pretty well the next morning. On Wednesday, the 27th, she had another attack, beating, jumping, and starting; complained about her legs and back being very bad: said there was a stiffness in them; they seemed paralysed, and she could not move them about. She lay on her side, and her breathing was very bad when she had these attacks on her. She was better after the medicines on the two occasions on which I gave them to her myself. I cannot recollect Thursday, but on Friday night, about 10 P.M., I was called up into the bedroom. Dove was dressed, standing by the bedside holding her hand. Her back was quite arched, and she was making a great noise in her inside. She said, ‘Oh dear, I thought it had been my last.’ Her breathing was very difficult. She complained about her jaws being stiff. I stayed with her till about 2 A.M., and she was better, and I went to bed. Next morning she said she was very poorly, and could not take any coffee. She had had no rest all night. She took some coffee afterwards, and had a little rest. In the afternoon Mrs. Witham was with her. She appeared much better then, washed herself and rubbed her legs, which seemed to ease her. She became worse at 8.30 P.M. The bell was rung: Mrs. Wood and Mrs. Witham were with her. Dove was out—had gone out about a quarter to half an hour. She then moaned and screamed; her body was quite arched and her feet projected right from her body, and she was in that state till twenty minutes to eleven, when she died. Before she died she grasped the hands of Mrs. Wood and Mrs. Witham, who were holding hers, so hard that it hurt them. Dove came back at about ten: she was then in great agony. As soon as he saw me, he told me he was going to Mr. Morley’s for medicine, and that if Mrs. Wood wanted to go home, I was to go up and take her place. When he returned with the doctors, she was dead.”
Mrs. Witham,[80] the next door neighbour who attended the deceased almost daily, confirmed Mrs. Fisher’s account of the earlier symptoms, and gave the following details of the night of her death:—
“On Saturday, March the 1st, I saw her again about 2.30 P.M. She seemed better, and I remained with her till about six. At 3.30 P.M. I gave her her medicine. Mr. Morley came at four, when she seemed well. I got the food he ordered for her, and she seemed better than I had seen her before. Dove was there, and when I told him I had given her the medicine, he said she ought not to have it until about five. I was sent for again later to sit with her until Mrs. Fisher came, as Dove was going for medicine. He was rubbing her legs, and asked her to kiss him, which she did. Shortly after, he gave her her medicine. He went to the washstand, and came back with a glass in one hand, with the medicine and water in the other. He was at the washstand time enough to pour out the medicine. Mrs. Wood was present. After she had taken it, Mrs. Dove complained that it was very hot, and asked for a lozenge. Dove took the glass to the washstand, and said he always washed it out after giving the medicine. He then left, as he said, to get more medicine. In about a quarter of an hour she complained of her back: her head was thrown back. I took hold of her hand, and she grasped it so tightly I could not get it away. Her eyes looked fixed. I put my hand to them: they did not move. Her features were very much distorted, and her teeth clinched. We both took hold of her hands, which she grasped so tightly that I could not bear it. Mrs. Wood was going to rub her back. She said, ‘Oh, don’t; lift me up,’ and I and Mrs. Wood tried to do so. Her back was arched, her body quite stiff, her legs stretched out. I did not notice her feet. We lifted her up, and put a pillow under her back. She rested on her shoulders, and the bottom part of her back, until the pillow was placed under her. The symptoms grew more violent, but she could speak. Her breathing was loud and difficult. She shrieked several times—a sort of scream. In about half an hour she could speak no longer. We could not be positive if she was sensible, and at twenty minutes to eleven she died. Dove came in after she had ceased to speak, threw off his coat, and was going to rub her legs, when I said she could not bear it. Mrs. Wood said something to him, and he left the house immediately. When the doctors came she had been dead some minutes.”