“On the following morning,” said Mills, the chambermaid, “Palmer came to see him, and asked me for a cup of coffee for him, which I procured, and I think I gave it to the deceased, and left the room. I did not see him drink the coffee; but when I went into the room shortly afterwards, I found it had been vomited in the utensil. I did not observe a jug of toast-and-water in the bedroom; but a jug that did not belong to the bedroom was sent down at night, for me to make some fresh toast-and-water in it. The prisoner was in deceased’s bedroom four or five times on this day, and I heard him tell Cook that he would send him over some soup. I afterwards saw some broth in the kitchen, which I knew had not been made in the Talbot Arms; and the waitress took this broth to the deceased’s bedroom. I saw the prisoner after this, and he asked me if Mr. Cook had had his broth; and the waitress said she had taken it to him, but he refused to take it, and said that it would not stay on his stomach. The prisoner then told me to fetch the broth, as Mr. Cook must have it, and I did so, and left it in deceased’s bedroom, and shortly afterwards I saw that it had been vomited. The same evening some barley water was made for the deceased, and also some arrowroot, but I cannot say whether they remained on his stomach or not. Mr. Bamford, the doctor, was called in after this. On the Sunday after the deceased came to the Talbot Arms, I saw him in his bedroom about eight o’clock in the morning, and he said he had slept well since twelve o’clock, and he felt pretty comfortable. A large breakfast cup of broth was brought from the prisoner’s house between twelve and one o’clock on the Sunday, and I took it up to the deceased’s bedroom. I tasted the broth, and very soon afterwards I was sick. I drunk about two tablespoonfuls. I vomited violently all the afternoon, and was obliged to go to bed. I was quite well up to the time of my drinking the broth. I saw the deceased on Sunday evening, and he seemed in good spirits, and not to be any worse. I saw the deceased on the Monday morning between seven and eight o’clock, when I took him a cup of coffee for his breakfast. He did not vomit the coffee. Palmer had seen him before this, but he did not come again until ten o’clock at night. The deceased got up about one o’clock, and he shaved and dressed himself, and appeared a great deal better, but said that he was exceedingly weak. Ashmall, the jockey, came to see him on the Monday, and also Mr. Saunders, the trainer. Soon after one o’clock, the deceased took some arrowroot, and it remained on his stomach. The deceased went to bed at four o’clock, and between nine and ten the prisoner went into his room, and I left him there. Some pills were sent by Dr. Bamford for the deceased, about eight o’clock, and I took them into his room, and placed them on the dressing-table, and they were there when the prisoner went into the room. I went to bed between ten and eleven, and I was called up about twelve. I then heard violent screams from the deceased’s bedroom, and upon entering it I saw the deceased sitting up in bed, and he desired me to fetch the prisoner directly. I told him he had been sent for, and I then walked to the bedside and found one of the pillows was upon the floor. I picked it up and asked Mr. Cook if he would lay his head down. At this time he was beating the bedclothes apparently in great agony, and he told me he could not lie down, and he should be suffocated if he did; and he then, in a loud tone, asked me again to send for Mr. Palmer. There was a sort of jumping or jerking about his head and neck and body all this time, and his breathing was very much affected. He screamed three or four times while I was in the room, and twice he called out, ‘Murder.’ He asked me to rub one of his hands, and I found it quite stiff. It was the left hand. The fingers were all stretched out and there was no motion in them, and they twitched while I was rubbing the hand. Palmer came into the room while this was going on, and the deceased recognized him, and said, ‘Oh, Palmer,’ or ‘Oh, doctor, I shall die.’ The prisoner replied, ‘Oh, my lad, you won’t;’ and after remaining a minute or two in the room he told me to stay there, and went out. He returned in a very few minutes, and he then produced some pills, and he gave the deceased a draught in a wine-glass, after he had given him the pills. Cook said that the pills stuck in his throat, and the prisoner told me to give him some toast-and-water, and I did so in a teaspoon. His head and body continued jerking, and he seized the spoon fast between his teeth and seemed to bite it very hard. The deceased shortly after swallowed the toast-and-water and the pills, and the prisoner then handed him the draught. It had a thick heavy appearance. The deceased snapped at the glass in the same way he did at the spoon, and he appeared unable to control himself. As soon as he had swallowed the draught, he vomited it immediately, and it appeared to me to smell like opium. The prisoner then made the remark that he hoped the pills had stayed, and he searched the utensil in which the deceased had vomited with a quill, and said that he could not find them; and he told me to take the utensil away and empty it carefully, and I did so, but could not see any trace of the pills. After this the deceased seemed a little more easy. The attack lasted altogether about half an hour, and during the whole of the time he was quite conscious. When he was composed he asked the prisoner to feel how his heart beat; and Palmer went to his bedside, and put his hand either to his heart, or the side of his face, and he said it was all right. I left the deceased about three o’clock in the morning, and at this time the prisoner was sitting in the easy chair, and I believe he was asleep. About six o’clock the same morning I saw the deceased again, and he told me that Mr. Palmer had left him about a quarter past five o’clock. I asked him how he was, and he replied that he was no worse; and he then asked me if I had ever seen any one in such agony as he was the night before, and I told him I never had. He then said he was sure I should never like to see anyone in such agony again, and I inquired what he thought was the cause. He replied that it was through some pills that Palmer had given him about half-past ten. The deceased was quite composed and quiet at this time, and there was no jerking or convulsion about him, but his eyes looked very wild. About twelve o’clock the deceased desired me to send the Boots over to Mr. Palmer to know whether he might have a cup of coffee. A message was brought back that he might, and Mr. Palmer would be over immediately. When I took up the coffee the prisoner was in the room, and I gave him the coffee, and he tasted it to see that it was not too strong. Mr. Jones came to the inn about three o’clock, and I saw him in the deceased’s room, and the prisoner after this told me that Cook had vomited the coffee. I saw Cook several times after this, and he appeared in very good spirits, and talked about getting up the next morning, and wished the barber to be sent for to shave him. I did not see the deceased later than half-past ten o’clock on the Tuesday night, and the prisoner was then in his bedroom, and I gave him some toast-and-water for the deceased, and the prisoner said he did not want anything more. I sat up in the kitchen on purpose to see how Mr. Cook went on, and I heard the bell of his room ring violently about ten minutes before twelve, and went up immediately. I found the deceased sitting up, and Mr. Jones had his arm round his shoulders, apparently supporting him. The deceased when he saw me, told me to fetch Palmer directly. I went over to his house, and rang the surgery bell, and the prisoner came to the window almost in an instant, and opened a small casement, and I told him to come over to Mr. Cook, as he was in much the same state as he was the night before. He made some reply, and I returned at once to the ‘Talbot Arms,’ and in a minute or two the prisoner came into Mr. Cook’s room. The first thing he said was that he did not think he had ever dressed so quickly before in his life. At this time Mr. Jones was supporting the deceased. I went out into the landing about a minute or two, and the prisoner came out, and I observed to him that Mr. Cook appeared in the same state as the night before, and he replied, ‘Not so ill by a fiftieth part.’ He then went to his own house, and returned in a very short time to the deceased’s bedroom. I then heard the deceased ask to be turned on his right side, and I then shortly after heard that he was dead.”
The cross-examination of Elizabeth Mills was mainly directed to three points—(1.) The fact of Mr. Cook complaining of sore throat, but not of difficulty in swallowing, in May, 1855, when the witness said all that he did was to use a gargle sent by Dr. Bamford. (2.) Her omission to tell the coroner that the broth had made her sick; that Cook had said he became ill on taking the pills sent by Palmer; that he beat the bedclothes, called “Murder!” and “twitched” when she rubbed his hands. These omissions the witness accounted for by the fact that the coroner did not ask her to detail all the symptoms she saw, but merely required her to answer such questions as he put. On her depositions being read, the Attorney-General proposed to call evidence to prove the negligence and misconduct of the coroner, but the court ruled that it was inadmissible.[33] (3.) That the witness had had several interviews with Cook’s stepfather, Stevens, his attorney, and the chief constable, before giving evidence—the defence imputing that they had instructed her in the symptoms. She denied, however, any such conduct on their part. She had heard of Dove’s case, but not read it, and Mr. Stevens had never given her any money. An attempt to injure her moral character in reference to a man of the name of Dutton entirely failed, and her evidence remained substantially uncontradicted.
Lavinia Barnes, the waitress at the “Talbot Arms,” remembered Cook coming there on Monday, the 12th, on his way to the races, and not complaining of illness, and she saw him when he returned on Thursday, the 15th, and after he came from dining at Palmer’s, on the Friday evening, when he spoke to her, and was sober.
“On the Saturday,” continued this witness, “I saw him twice. Some broth was sent over and taken up to him by me. He could not take it; he was too sick. I carried it down, and put it in the kitchen. I afterwards saw Palmer, and told him Cook was too sick to take it; he said he must have it. Elizabeth Mills afterwards took it up again. Mills was taken ill with violent vomiting on the Sunday between twelve and one o’clock. She went to bed, and did not come downstairs till four or five o’clock. I saw some broth that day in the kitchen; it was in a sick cup, with two handles, not belonging to the house. I did not see it brought; it was taken back to Palmer’s. On Monday morning (19th) I saw Palmer, and he told Mills he was going to London. I saw Cook during that day. Saunders came to see him, and took him up some brandy-and-water. I slept that night in the next room to Cook’s. Palmer came between eight and nine in the evening, but I did not see if he went up to Cook’s room. (According to Mills, Palmer had seen Cook in the morning, and saw him again at ten at night.) About twelve o’clock I was in the kitchen, when Cook’s bell rang violently. I went upstairs. Cook was very ill, and asked me to send for Palmer. He screamed out ‘’Murder!’ He exclaimed that he was in violent pain—that he was suffocating. His eyes were wild-looking, standing a great way out of his head. He was beating his bed with his arms. He cried out, ‘Christ, have mercy on my soul!’ I never saw a person in such a state. Having called up Mills, I left to send ‘Boots’ for Palmer, who came, and I again went into Cook’s room. Cook was then more composed. He said, ‘Oh, doctor, I shall die!’ Palmer replied, ‘Don’t be alarmed, my lad.’ I saw Cook drink a dark mixture out of a glass, but do not know who gave it him. I both heard and saw him snap at the glass. He brought up the draught. I left him between twelve and one, when he was more composed. On Tuesday he seemed a little better. At night, a little before twelve, the bell rang again. I was in the kitchen. Mills went upstairs, and I followed her, and heard Cook screaming, but did not go into the room. I stood outside the door, and saw Palmer come. He had been fetched. I said, as he passed me, ‘Mr. Cook is ill again.’ He said, ‘Oh, is he?’ and went into the room. He was dressed in his usual manner, and wore a black coat and a cap.[34] She also heard him make the observation to Mills before reported. She went to the room, but came out before Cook died.”
MEDICAL EVIDENCE.
In consequence of his severe illness, the following deposition of Dr. Bamford (an aged local practitioner) before the coroner was read:—
“I attended the late Mr. Cook, at the request of William Palmer, and first saw him about three o’clock on Saturday, the 17th of November, when he was suffering from violent vomiting, the stomach being in that irritable state, that it would not contain a teaspoonful of milk. There was perfect moisture of the skin, and he was quite sensible. I prescribed medicine for him; and Mr. Palmer went up to my house and waited until I had made it up, and then took it away. I prescribed a saline draught, to be taken in an effervescing state. Between seven and eight in the evening Mr. Palmer again requested me to visit Mr. Cook. The sickness still continued, everything he took being ejected from his stomach. I gave him two small pills as an opiate. Palmer took the pills from my house. I did not accompany, nor do I know what became of the pills. On the following morning (Sunday) Palmer again called, and asked me to accompany him. Mr. Cook’s sickness still continued. I remained about ten minutes. Everything he took that morning was ejected from his stomach. Everything he threw up was as clear as water, except some coffee that he had taken. Palmer had administered some pills before I saw Mr. Cook on Saturday, which had purged him several times. Between six and seven in the evening I again visited the deceased, accompanied by Palmer. The sickness still continued. I went on Monday morning between eight and nine, and changed his medicine. I sent him a draught, which relieved his sickness, and gave him ease. I did not see him again until Tuesday night, when Palmer called for me. I examined Mr. Cook, in the presence of Mr. Jones and Mr. Palmer, and I observed a change in him. He was irritable and troubled in his mind. His pulse was firm, but tremulous, and between 80° and 90°. He threw himself down on the bed, and turned his face away. He said he would have no more pills, nor take any medicine. After they had left the room, Palmer asked me to make two more pills, similar to those on the previous night, which I did, and he then asked me to write the directions on a slip of paper, and I gave the pills to Palmer. The effervescing mixture contained 20 grains of carbonate of potash, 2 drachms of compound tincture of cardamine, and 2 drachms of simple syrup, together with 15 grains of tartaric acid for each powder. I never gave Mr. Cook a grain of antimony. I did not see the preparations after they were taken away. His skin was moist, and there was not the least fever about him. I considered death to have been the result of congestion of the brain, when the post-mortem examination was made, and I do not see any reason to alter that opinion. Palmer said he was of the same opinion with respect to the death of the deceased. I never knew apoplexy produce rigidity of the limbs. Drowsiness is a prelude to apoplexy. I attribute the sickness on the first two days to a disordered stomach.” When called in the sixth day of the trial, after his recovery, the witness said—speaking of the last visit to Mr. Cook—“Having seen Cook, I left the room with Jones and Palmer: the latter said he rather wished Cook to have his pills again (I had prepared the same pills on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday), and he would walk up with me for them. He did so, and stood by me in the surgery while I prepared them. I had strychnia in a cupboard in my private room. I put the pills in a box, and addressed it ‘Night pills, John Parsons Cook, Esq.’ I wrote that direction all four nights. On the Tuesday night Palmer requested me to put on a direction. After that I did not see Cook alive. It was, as near as could be, twenty minutes past twelve, at midnight, when I saw Cook dead. I understood he was alive when they came for me, and I could not have been more than five or ten minutes in going up. My house is about two hundred yards from Palmer. I found the body stretched out, resting on the heels and the back of the head, as straight as possible, and stiff. The arms were extended down each side of the body, and the hands clenched. I certified it was apoplexy.”
Mr. William Henry Jones, a surgeon at Lutterworth, and intimate friend of Cook’s for the last five years, was written to by Palmer on the Monday, the 19th, stating that “Cook was taken ill at Shrewsbury, and obliged to call in a medical man;” that “since then he had been confined to his bed with a very serious bilious attack, combined with diarrhœa,” and that Palmer “thought it advisable that his friend should come and see him.” Illness prevented this before about half-past three in the afternoon of Tuesday, the day before Cook died.
“On my arrival at Rugeley,” said the witness, “I went up to Cook’s room. He said he was very comfortable, but had been very ill at Shrewsbury. He did not detail the symptoms, but said he had had to call in a doctor. Palmer came in. I examined Cook in his presence. He had a natural pulse. I looked at his tongue; it was clean. I said it was hardly the tongue of a bilious, diarrhœa attack. Palmer replied, ‘You should have seen it before.’ I did not then prescribe for Cook. In the course of the afternoon I visited him several times. He changed for the better. His spirits and pulse both improved. I gave him, at his request, some toast and water, and he vomited. There was no diarrhœa. The toast and water was in the room. Mr. Bamford came in the evening, about 7 o’clock, and expressed his opinion that Cook was going on very satisfactorily. We were talking about what he was to have, and Cook objected to the pills of the previous night. Palmer was there all the time. Cook said the pills made him ill. I do not remember to whom he addressed this observation. We three (Palmer, Bamford, and myself) went out upon the landing. Palmer proposed that Mr. Bamford should make up some morphine pills as before, at the same time requesting me not to mention to Cook what they contained, as he objected to the morphine so much. Mr. Bamford agreed to this, and he went away. I went back to Cook’s room, and Palmer went with me. During the evening I was several times in Cook’s room. He seemed very comfortable all the evening. There was no more vomiting nor any diarrhœa, but there was a natural motion in the bowels. I observed no bilious symptoms about Cook.”
By Lord Campbell.—“Did he appear to have recently suffered from a bilious attack?”