prominent as an advocate of Emancipation, and had of late spoken very forcibly in Parliament on the subject of the late potato famine in Ireland and the absentee Protestant landlords. Yet this prejudice seemed unlikely to affect the Bench. True, Lord Chief Justice Campbell, a Scottish 'son of the manse', had read Divinity, rather than Law, at St Andrews University, and might well regard all Roman Catholics as
eternally damned. But Mr Baron
Alderson was known as a humane judge, anxious to restrict capital punishment, and Mr Smith counted on him and Mr Justice Cresswell, to restrain the Lord Chief Justice if he showed undue animus towards either Serjeant Shee or the prisoner.
Nevertheless, the Usher of the Central Criminal Court assured us on the first day of the trial: 'Sir, Dr Palmer will swing, you may be bound.'
Upon our questioning him, we were told familiarly: 'I know Jack Campbell's hanging face well, and his hanging manner.'
"What is that?' we asked.
'His hanging face, Sir, is bland and benignant, and his hanging manner unctuous. As soon as the prisoner entered the dock and Lord Campbell invited him to be seated, I would have offered long odds against his chances of life.'
'But it takes twelve good and true men to hang a criminal,' we insisted, 'and there are a couple of other judges on the bench beside the Lord Chief Justice.'
He shook his head sagely.' Sir Cresswell Cresswell is a humane and honest man,' he pronounced, 'but Alderson would as lief hang Shee as he would Palmer. Those two legal gentlemen have always been at loggerheads, I can't say why—it may be a political disagreement, it may be a personal one. Moreover, Attorney-General Cockburn is a beloved compatriot of Jack Campbell's, and he's out to destroy Palmer. Even if the pair of them weren't
as thick as thieves, it would take a mighty firm Lord Chief Justice to handle a determined Attorney-General. Cocky, you know, is due for his judgeship any day now and wishes to make this a memorable farewell to the Bar—a savages' feast day with fireworks, drums, bloody sacrifices and all. So that's three of them teamed together—Jack Campbell, Alderson and Cocky! They can do what they list, for the Under-Sheriffs have a hand-picked jury ready to serve them. Will you dare lay against Palmer's conviction?'
'I'm not a betting man,' was our cautious answer.
The twelve-day trial, which opened on
May 14th, 1856
,
was memorable not only for brilliant forensic displays by the prosecuting
and defending Counsel, but also, as we shall not hesitate to point out, for a singular conflict of evidence and surprising irregularities in judicial procedure.
On the opening day the Attorney-General promised to show that Dr Palmer was financially interested in murdering John Parsons Cook, and that, having weakened his system with tartar
emetic both at Shrewsbury and at Rugeley, he purchased strychnia at the latter town and administered it in the form of pills, substituting these for the rhubarb, calomel and morphia pills which Dr Bamford had prescribed. No strychnia had been found in Cook's body, yet the Attorney-General insisted (with leave from Professor Taylor) that strychnia, being rapidly absorbed into the system, evades detection in the tissues of its victim, and that Cook's symptoms were consistent
with
str
ychnine poisoning.
The first witness called was Mr Ishmael Fisher, the sporting wine merchant, whom we can hardly describe as unprejudiced, since Dr Palmer had defrauded him of two hundred pounds. He testified forcibly to Cook's suspicion of having been poisoned at The Raven Hotel; and was followed by other members of his
sporting party, none of whom, since reading about the verdicts at the inquests on Annie and Walter Palmer, and on Cook, wished to be known as the prisoner's friends or supporters.
Next appeared Elizabeth Mills, formerly chambermaid at The Talbot Arms Hotel, Rugeley, a sharp-featured young woman, wearing a fashionable bonnet. Her account of events varied to a great extent from the depositions she had made before the Coroner. She now reported fresh and striking symptoms, hitherto undisclosed; and it came back to her that she had tasted Cook's bowl of broth and found herself severely poisoned by it. The Prosecution sought to prove that these vital matters must also have appeared in her depositions, had the Coroner's inquest been properly conducted.
Serjeant Shee's cross-examination of this flighty miss on the second day proves, to our satisfaction at least, how successfully Mr Stevens had contrived to suborn her. She was, it seems, shown an account of the recent atrocity at Leeds (where a Mr
Dove poisoned his wife with str
ychnine), and then asked to remember the same medical particulars in Cook's case.
The following is a somewhat abbreviated record of Elizabeth Mills's disingenuous answers to Serjeant Shee's questions:
sergeant shee.
How long did you stay at The Talbot Arms Hotel
after Cook's death?
mills
. Till the day after Christmas-day. Then I went home.
Serjeant shee
. Where is 'home'?
mills
. Shelton, in the Potteries.
Serjeant shee
. Have you been in service since?
mills
. Yes, as chambermaid at Dolly's Hotel, Paternoster Row.
Serjeant shee
. Are you in service there now?
mills. No
. I stayed only six weeks; until February.
Serjeant shee
. After you came to London, did you see Mr Stevens?
mills
. Yes.
Serjeant shee
. Where and when did you see him?
mills
. At Dolly's, about a week later.
Serjeant shee
. How many times?
mills
. Perhaps four or
five.
Serjeant shee
.
Will
you
swear
it
was
not
ten
times?
mills
.
It
might
be
six
or
seven;
that
was
about
the
outside.
I
cannot
exactly
keep
account
.
.
.
Serjeant shee
.
Where
at
Dolly's
did
you
see
him?
mills
.
Sometimes
he
would
speak
to
me
while
Mrs
Dewhurst,
the
landlady,
was
there,
in
one
of
her
sitting-rooms
.
Serjeant shee
.
But
sometimes
you
went
into
a
sitting-room
and
spoke
to
him
alone?
mills
.
Perhaps
twice
or
three
times.
Serjeant shee
.
Was
it
always
about
Mr
Cook's
death
that
he
spoke to
you?
mills
.
No,
it
was
not.
He
would
call
to
see
how
I
liked
London,
and
whether
I
was
well
in
health,
and
all
that.
Serjeant shee
.
Mr
Stevens
is
a
gentl
eman,
not
in
your
station.
Do
you
mean
to
say
he
called
so
often
to
inquire
after
your
health
?
mills
.
That,
and
to
see
whether
I
liked
the
place.
Serjeant shee
.
He
called
six
or
seven
times
on
you
to
see
whether
you
liked
the
place:
do
you
mean
to
tell
that
to
the
jury
on
your
oath?
mills.
I
am
not
going
to
take
my
oath:
but
when
he
called
on
me
he
always
asked
how
I
liked
London.
Serjeant shee
.
Then
what
did
he
call
about?
mills
.
Sometimes
one
thing,
sometimes
another
.
Serjeant shee
.
What
else
besides
Mr
Cook's
death?
mills
.
Nothing
besides
that.
Serjeant shee
.
Had
you
conversed
with
him
much
at
The
Talbot
Arms
while
he
was
lodging
there
just
before
the
funeral
?
mills
.
Some
little.
Serjeant shee
.
Had
you
never
been
in
a
room
with
him
alone
at
The
Talbot
Arms?
mills.
N
o.
Serjeant shee
.
At
Dolly's
Hotel
he
spoke
to
you
about
Mr
Cook's death
and
your
health,
and
your
liking
for
London,
but
nothing else;
is
that
so
?
On
your
oath,
did
he
speak
to
you
about
anything else?
mills
.
Yes,
many
more
things.
Serjeant shee
.
What
else
?
mills.
I
cannot
remember.
Serjeant shee
.
Tell
me
a
single
thing
of
importance
that
he
spoke
to
you
about
except
Mr
Cook's
death?
mills
.
I
do
not
keep
such
things
in
my
head
for
weeks
or
months