Next I shall call your attention to the evidence of Charles Newton; he is a person who has sworn before you that he saw Palmer at Mr. Salt’s surgery at nine o’clock on the Monday night, and that Palmer asked for three grains of strychnia; that he weighed it, and gave it to him in a piece of paper; that is the first part of what he swore before you and my lords. Now, I should tell you how this case has been conducted. As soon as my learned friend the Attorney-General, as counsel for the Crown, was made acquainted with the illness of my learned friend Mr. Serjeant Wilkins, with his inability to conduct the defence and that I was to supply his place, he desired that every scrap of evidence against the prisoner should be forwarded to me, and to my learned friends near me; and, accordingly, as soon as he received this evidence of Newton he forwarded it to me, and I received it on the day this Court met. I believe it was sent to me late on the previous night, but I did not see it until the morning you were sworn; so that this witness Newton did not bring this matter that was in his knowledge of the fact of the purchase by Palmer at Mr. Salt’s surgery at nine o’clock on the Monday night of three grains of strychnia—he did not bring that to the knowledge of the Crown until the night before this trial commenced. Now, he had been examined at the inquest, and he did not tell before the coroner the rest of the story which he told when he was examined here. (The learned serjeant read the examination of Charles Newton.) He did not tell that to the coroner. All he told the coroner was that he was present when Palmer bought some strychnia off Roberts on the Tuesday night in the shop of Mr. Hawkins; he did not speak to the purchase of the strychnia on the Monday night; he knew that he was called to corroborate a statement which Roberts had made as to the presence of Palmer at the shop, and the purchasing of the strychnia on the Tuesday, yet he never said one word at that time either of the fact of Palmer having bought strychnia off him on the Monday night or of his having asked him what appearances, if a dog were killed by strychnia, would be exhibited on its post-mortem examination. A man who so conducts himself is utterly unworthy of credit. There is one honest, laudable motive in a Court of justice, and that is to assist in the administration of the criminal law of the land. If any man had the least hesitation when in Court, or to come into Court and take the oath to depose to what he knew were the facts, we should not be safe against crime for a moment. But you cannot justify the fact of swearing away another man’s life, except under a sense of duty, and for that object; and if a man, knowing that he is to be sworn touching so grave a subject as that of murder, the first time he takes the oath omits a considerable portion of what he knows, and three weeks afterwards tells another portion, and at a further interval comes forward and tells more—enough, in his opinion, to drive the guilt home to the man who is accused—the witness, I say, who conducts himself in that manner ought not to be believed. The prisoner who is convicted upon the evidence of such a man as that is sacrificed by a jury. But there are other circumstances in that statement which render it in the last degree improbable. That Palmer should, once in a week, purchase strychnia in the town of Rugeley is not to be wondered at. Strychnia is sold for many purposes, to kill dogs and vermin, and Palmer, as you may recollect, had often occasion to complain of the dogs from the slipping of the foals and the galloping of the mares. In the course of the evidence in this case it has been mentioned that strychnia was purchased by Palmer twice within the week, when the first time he had bought quite enough, and more, for the purpose imputed to him. But that a person should go and buy strychnia twice in a week in a small country town, having bought enough for all purposes the first time—that he should go and buy more the next day at the shop of a rival tradesman, with whom he was on bad terms—is to the last degree improbable. Common sense revolts at it; nobody can or ought to be believed who makes any such statements. Again, observe he had been to London on the Monday. In London there is no difficulty for a medical man to get anything of the sort which he may require. He has only to write it down in the technical way, so as to give evidence of a medical education, and it is given to him at once, without a word. He had been to London; and, again, if he could not get it there, he could get it at Stafford. Why should he get it at Rugeley? that is the last place that he would have gone to for it. It seems to me that it is equally impossible he ever could have bought it for such a purpose as the purpose attributed to him, and that he would have been, if really guilty, so unwary as to allow the paper in which the strychnia had been not to be found with the full quantity he had purchased in it; he would not have been such a fool as not to take care that the paper in which it was wrapped was full of strychnia before his house was searched, so as to make sure that it should be found that nothing should appear to have been used out of it, and that the exact quantity was in the paper. I submit, therefore, it cannot be believed—it is not credible!
I am now in a condition to satisfy you that Palmer was undoubtedly in town, and that he could not have been there at nine o’clock; that he was in London at a quarter-past three o’clock, and that he could not have been there by nine o’clock—the hours at which the trains start rendered it impossible. The thing is false—downright false. It is impossible to have got to Rugeley before a quarter-past ten, and we will account for what he did in a way that will entirely satisfy you. He attended the post-mortem examination, and is it credible that a skilful medical man, who has studied at the London hospitals, would have gone to that dolt Newton to ask him as to what would be the effects of strychnia on a dog’s stomach? Is it credible that he should go to that stupid sort of fellow, who gave his evidence in that dogged, mulish, sullen manner, which often is indicative of something else besides the want of understanding, and that he would have gone and asked a chap like that, “What are the effects of strychnia?” and then, when he had been told, he would snap his fingers and say, “All right.” It cannot be—it is impossible. No one would believe it; and I submit to you confidently that unless there is much stronger evidence than that, it is evidence on which you cannot rely for a moment. To show the animus of this Newton against Palmer, I will remind you of what he stated. Palmer said that “you will find that he has taken a great deal of mercury; you will find this ‘fellow’ died from a diseased throat.” When he is questioned about it mildly and quietly by my friend Mr. Grove as to what was the exact term used, he answers, “I do not know whether he said poor or rich”; just as if it could be a question of that kind. What we wanted to know was whether he had spoken of the poor dead man in a pitying way, or whether he had spoken of him as a disreputable person, unworthy of all consideration. As to that part of the case I will say no more, and I will proceed to other matters taking you back again to what occurred at Shrewsbury.
Serjeant Shee
The case for the Crown is, that as early as the 14th November, at Shrewsbury, the scheme—the plot—of poisoning commenced. That is the supposition of those from whom the case has been taken by the Crown. Now, it is suggested that on the night of Wednesday, the 14th, Palmer dosed this man Cook with something that he put into his brandy, and the witness Fisher told us that Cook told him so. If you remember the early part of my address to you, I read a few words at the end of a letter from Cook to Fisher, in which, after telling him it was of vast importance to him, as well as to Palmer, that £500 should be paid to Mr. Pratt, he adds in a postscript “I am better.” These words must have referred to his illness at Shrewsbury. The letter relates to another matter which is of great importance to him and to Palmer, and he does not seem to treat it as one having in his own mind a belief that Palmer had drugged him with poison for the purpose of destroying his health at Shrewsbury. Then, again, on the evidence, what does Palmer say himself about what occurred at Shrewsbury? He says, when it is mentioned, “Cook says I have put something in his glass; I do not play such tricks with people”—taking it as if it had been never understood otherwise than as a loose expression of a man, perhaps not actually drunk—the evidence does not go to that extent—though I think you will be of opinion he was very nearly approaching to that condition. I could not help being a little amused by a version which I read some time ago of this portion of the Shrewsbury plot. I will read it to you—“After indulging freely in the foreign wines of an English country town, 150 miles from London, the owner of ‘Polestar’ took to brandy and water to restore his British solidity. Tossing off his glass, he complained that there was something in it, for it burned his throat. Perhaps those who have drunk strong brandy and water with similar haste may have experienced the same sensation; perhaps also, like Mr. Cook, they may have vomited afterwards. He bolted his brandy and water down at Palmer’s challenge, and bolted it up again when it encountered the cold champagne. That night he was very drunk, and very sick, and very ill. His dinner he cast up into a basin; his money he deposited with his friend Mr. Ishmael Fisher, a sporting wine merchant, of Shoe Lane, Holborn. To this Mr. Ishmael Fisher the owner of ‘Polestar’ gave £700 to keep till next morning, expressing his belief, at the same time, that Palmer had dosed him for the sake of the money. If such had been Palmer’s intention, would he have left Cook at such a moment? He neither followed him from the room when his stomach rebelled, nor did he go near him all that night. This neglect showed, indeed, how hollow was his friendship, but it proves his innocence; guilt would have been much more officious. Next morning Cook looked very ill, as men are apt to do after excessive vinous vomiting; but his drunken suspicions of Palmer had evaporated with the fumes of the brandy, and they were again friends and brother sportsmen.”
Serjeant Shee
I believe that is the true version of the matter, and that Cook believed it to be so. He breakfasted with Palmer the next morning; he was good friends with him the whole of the day, and went with him to Rugeley, and there remained on Palmer’s invitation. In consequence of the letter which Pratt wrote on the 13th, and which Palmer got on the 14th, in which they both had an interest, Cook wrote to Pratt to say that somebody would call on him with £200, and he wrote to Fisher to tell Fisher to do so. Did anybody at that time believe that there was any intention to drug and poison this man? Does not the explanation that Mrs. Brookes gave, which I must say was exceedingly creditable to her, the readiness with which she stated to me that her husband did not approve of her attending races, that it was disagreeable to him; and the dignity, if I may say so, with which she answered the question put to her by my learned friend—“Are you intimate with Palmer?” by this other question, “What do you mean by intimate with him? I am friendly,” seemed to me to entitle her to all due respect. And when she, being called for the Crown, tells you, “That night I heard in several directions of a great number of people who were purged and vomited; there was a general affection of the kind amongst strangers visiting Shrewsbury on that occasion”—I submit to you it was to the last degree improbable that anything of that kind occurred. About the tumbler which she saw in Palmer’s hand I cannot suggest any reason, because it is not in my instructions, but it might probably be accounted for in this way, when he came back from Rugeley and found all the people indisposed he would naturally look at the water to see if there was anything to account for its unwholesomeness. Mrs. Brookes said, and that is the point to which I wish to call your attention, that he was in a passage under a chandelier; that the waiter pointed to him when he showed her upstairs; that he spoke to her while holding up the glass to the light, and said, “Wait a minute, and I will come to you.” Nothing can be more natural than that; and I submit to you it is impossible to say that there is anything to justify a suspicion of poison in it. With regard to the money he gave to Fisher, I can suggest no other reason than that, just before being sick, he gave his money to Fisher, feeling that it was coming upon him, and that his stomach was revolting at the liberties he had taken with it. He had the good sense to place his money, when he was still very sick, in the hands of Fisher, and he afterwards went to bed. It may have been that he had been guilty of excess in eating and drinking, and it was necessary to send for the doctor, who, when he came, wished to send him an emetic. The young man knew so well what to do that he said, “Oh! I can make myself sick without an emetic; I will put my tooth-brush down my throat; I can be sick without your emetic.” He took a pill when it was recommended to him and a black draught, and the moment he laid his head on his pillow he was perfectly free from any alarm, and he got up the next morning perfectly well. Gentlemen, that is really too ludicrous to be worthy of a moment’s consideration. Now, let us go to certain other matters, and more particularly to the conduct of the prisoner himself. I would just mention that there was a person there of the name of Myatt in the room at the time they say the brandy and water was drugged. Why was he not called? The others came in just before going to bed, but Myatt had been there the whole evening, and was not a mere accidental visitor in the room. You will hear his version so far as it is necessary. They have now got back to Rugeley, and then the history of the slow poisoning continues. Cook and Palmer go back together, and probably they talk all the way about Pratt and their difficulties, and the way of getting out of them, and of the small way that the winnings of Shrewsbury will go to effect the object. They both see ruin staring them in the face unless the Prince of Wales office can be forced to pay the money due upon the policy of insurance, and they can remain free from all suspicion of insolvency or misconduct in the meantime. When they get to Rugeley, by sending up the £200 to Pratt, they provide for the temporary difficulty. They are on friendly terms, Palmer making use of Cook’s things, and probably both attaining their own objects, as it would appear that Palmer said directly Cook died that he had some interest in bills which were outstanding; and that might well have been, considering they were engaged in racing transactions; that they were joint owners of one horse; that they had the same trainer, betted for each other at races, and that they were confederates and friends on the turf, in that sort of relation to each other which gave them a joint interest in the same ventures. Cook sat at the table of Palmer on the 16th, and wrote up that night to Pratt. Cook goes to bed late on that evening, well enough, not so drunk as to prevent his asking the chambermaid to give him a longer candle, in order that he might read in bed. He seems to have had a little champagne, not so much as to have made him drunk, yet perhaps too much for a stomach weakened by the excess, if it was excess, at Shrewsbury, or by the vomiting which was occasioned by the illness there, and the hot water which he had taken. He gets up the next morning poorly; he eats nothing that day; ails enough for Mr. Bamford to be called in by Palmer, and Palmer is unremitting in his attention to him on that day and the Sunday following.
Serjeant Shee
Now, it is said that that very attentiveness is evidence of the prisoner’s guilt. What, as my friend here (Mr. Grove) says, what is a man to do? Here is a young fellow’s health in very considerable danger. Cook, having a joint interest in racing transactions with Palmer, thinks it convenient to stop at Rugeley, where he has no friend but Palmer. They are not flush of money, and Palmer has a house and an establishment on a moderate scale immediately opposite the inn in which Cook is staying. He is enabled to send such things over as can be got in a private house, not at hotel prices, but at a very trifling expense. He was on a visit to Palmer, and he knew nobody there but Palmer. He was ailing; and as it is very dull for a man who has no intellectual pursuits to be alone all day when out of health, Palmer goes over and talks to him, and attends to him, and gets him what comforts he can. That is what a man would do to a friend; it is precisely what a man would do. If he had not done it, but merely attended to him at night when he was taken ill on the Monday night, without visiting him during the day, it might have been said that he was neglecting him, and only attended to him when he wanted to give him another dose of poison. That is the way the Crown would have put it then! He is laboriously attentive to him under circumstances which can well be accounted for by the reason that he had actually, if not a sincere friendship for him, at least a friendly kind of liking for him, and an interest with him on betting and racing transactions, and could supply him with several things from his house at little or no expense. If Cook had been well he would probably have had his meals at Palmer’s house. He was ill, and Palmer sends Dr. Bamford to him. He saw him at eight o’clock on Sunday morning, and again at six or seven o’clock. Cook told him his bowels had been moved twice or thrice. That is what he told to Dr. Bamford; it may have been known to Palmer that it was oftener, and that the truth was he was slightly suffering under some symptoms of diarrhœa, as he afterwards stated in the letter to Jones. It was Cook himself who told Dr. Bamford about his bowels having been moved; and on the same day Palmer wrote a letter to Jones, intending to bring Jones there, he being about to go to London, and stated “Cook had been suffering from diarrhœa.” It was at Shrewsbury, where everybody else had diarrhœa. He took the pill and black draught, and their effects continued, probably to some extent when he was at Rugeley. It is absurd to pretend that the suggestion of diarrhœa could have any sinister object, as Jones must have ascertained the truth as soon as he arrived at Rugeley.
Serjeant Shee
I now beg to call your attention to the next important fact in this case. It seems to me to be, though I touch upon it briefly here, one of the very last importance, and one which ought to decide it in the prisoner’s favour. The supposition of the Crown is, that Palmer intended to dose Cook with antimony, to keep his stomach in a perpetual state of vomiting, in order the more easily to despatch him by strychnia; that he began the plot on the Wednesday at Shrewsbury and continued it at Rugeley, and that during the Sunday Cook was under the influence of that treatment—Sunday was the day Palmer attempted, as was said, to force the broth upon him. Now, being bent, as it is supposed, upon destroying Cook, there is one man in the world who would be the very last witness he would select as a witness of his proceedings. He was a medical man, in the prime of life, intimately acquainted with Cook, living in the same house with him, much attached to him, at all events sufficiently attached to him to come to him as soon as he had heard that he had had an attack of diarrhœa—Mr. Jones, of Lutterworth. Palmer, intending to go to London, and not wishing to leave Cook alone, wrote on the Sunday to Mr. Jones, telling him that Cook was then ill with diarrhœa, a statement which is not altogether inconsistent with the evidence of Dr. Bamford and what Cook stated, and begs of him to come over. I beg of you to pause here for a moment in order to appreciate the full importance of this fact; the more you think of it the more profound will be your conviction that it affords evidence irrefragable of Palmer’s innocence. The imputation upon Palmer is that he intended to kill Cook to possess himself of his winnings. Who was with Cook when the race was won? Who was by his side on Shrewsbury racecourse for the three minutes that he was speechless? Who saw him take out his betting-book and count his winnings? Who but Jones—Jones who was his bosom friend, his companion, his confidant, and who knew to the last farthing the amount of his gains? Jones was, of all men living, the most likely to be the recipient of Cook’s confidence, and the man bound by every consideration of honour, friendship, and affection to protect him, to vindicate his cause, and to avenge his death. Yet this was the man for whom Palmer sent, that he might converse with Cook, receive his confidence, minister to him in his illness, and even sleep in the same room with him! How, if Palmer is the murderer they represent him, are you to account for his summoning Jones to the bedside of the sick man? If Cook really suspected—as we are assured he did—that Palmer was poisoning him, Jones was the man to whom he would most willingly have unbosomed himself, and in whose faithful ear he would have most eagerly disburthened the perilous stuff that weighed upon his own brain. Jones, as well as Palmer, was a medical man, and it is not improbable that, in the course of his studies, the former may have noted in his class-book the very passages respecting the operation of strychnia which had attracted the attention of the latter. Is it conceivable that, if Palmer meant to slay Cook with poison in the dead of the night, he would have previously ensured 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 the room, and makes him lie within a few inches of the sick man’s bed, that he may be startled by his terrific shrieks, and gaze upon those agonising convulsions which indicate the fatal potency of poison! Can you believe it? He might have despatched him by means that would have defied detection, for Cook was taking morphia medicinally, and a grain or two more would have silently thrown him into an eternal sleep; but instead of doing so, 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 that it is false, because, consistently with the laws that govern human nature, it cannot possibly be true.