“There are several cases in which persons labouring under strychnia had desired to be rubbed. Parts of the body might fall on the floor as well as the blood.
“By a Juror.—If strychnia were put in the medicine it would not alter the colour of it, it might have left a powdery deposit. I never knew a case of hysteria cause death with such external appearances as in Mrs. Dove’s case.”
Mr. Thomas Nunneley, professor of surgery in the Leeds College of Medicine, who was examined in Palmer’s case on behalf of that prisoner, and then maintained that if Cook had been poisoned by strychnia it would have been found in his body by the chemical and other tests as late as the sixth day after his death, confirmed the statements in the joint report, and the opinion of Mr. Morley, that Mrs. Dove had died from the effects of strychnia. His experiments on strychnia in the cases of animals had been carried on for over thirty years, and he was of opinion that, “though he should not have anticipated the improvement spoken of on the Saturday, yet that it was not inconsistent with her having taken strychnia on the Friday.” On cross-examination by Mr. Bliss, he gave the following evidence:—
“I found nothing on dissection that could not be referred to the strychnia taken on the Saturday night—the intensity of that attack might have produced the appearances in the brain and lungs. Hysteria will simulate the appearances of other diseases, and among them of tetanus. I did not examine the fæces and tissues of the body, but I should expect to find strychnia in the tissues if taken six days before. My attention was not called to its having been taken before Saturday, but even if it had I think I should have found it. This case and the one in London (Palmer’s) have advanced our knowledge in the discovery of this poison far beyond what it was before. It accords with my experience that a person suffering from strychnia would not bear to be rubbed.”
Re-examined.—“I attribute the symptoms exhibited before Saturday to strychnia. They are not so in accordance with any disease as with strychnia.”
Dr. Christison, the eminent writer on poisons, also agreed with Mr. Morley and Mr. Nunneley as to the cause of the symptoms. He admitted that “it was just possible to attribute them to hysteria, but had never seen such a combination of symptoms in an hysteric case. He thought it was unusual for a person to be insensible before death in a case of strychnia, but he had seen it lately in the case of an animal killed by that poison—the symptoms were exactly those which would be produced by an overdose of strychnia in the prior attacks.”
Dr. Hobson, who had seen the deceased with Mr. Morley a few minutes after her death, “saw nothing either in her countenance or position that he thought particular, and admitted that all the symptoms described before those of Saturday might be accounted for in an aggravated form of hysteria, but would not expect a person who suffered under such a form of hysteria to be conscious, nor did he attribute these symptoms to that disease.”
Mr. Teal, who had been in practice in Leeds for thirty-four years, agreed “in the symptoms being entirely in accord with strychnia, and though he had seen hysteria simulate strychnism, he had never seen it entirely resemble the entire group of symptoms represented in this case; had he heard only of the symptoms before Saturday, he should have considered them in strict accordance with the effects of that poison; and even if he had heard of hysteric symptoms before, he should have suspected strychnia, but would not deny the possibility of their being consistent with hysteria.” In reply to a juryman, he added the following evidence on the probable reason for the state of the prisoner’s mind:—
“Excessive drinking without producing delirium tremens might cause the conduct of the prisoner, described by Harrison,[81] as to spirits and noises. He might have any delusions when under the influence of drink, but when sober such a man might be sound in mind and without delusions, and when partially drunk might have delusions without suffering under delirium tremens.”
Mr. Richard Hey, who had been in practice in York for twenty-seven years, and concurred with the other medical men, on cross-examination, said—
“I have had experience in hysteria, and have seen cases in which many of the symptoms would be the same as those described. The freedom from affection of the brain would lead me to suspect it to be strychnia. I think the violent twitchings and spasms, and the extreme pain they produced, would make a very marked distinction from the effects of hysteria. I have never seen instances of screaming out from pain in hysteria. I have heard of screaming out. They complain of pain, but not violent pain. The spasm consequent on strychnia would, I imagine, induce a patient to be rubbed as in ordinary spasms and cramp, but I never saw spasms so intense as in those spoken of in strychnia. One of the most marked symptoms in strychnia, in aggravated cases, is not being able to bear to be touched, but it is not so in slight attacks.” Re-examined.—“I never knew touching or walking across a room not bearable in hysteria, or pain in the jaws, or all these things combined in hysteria.”
The last witness called by the prosecution, Mr. William Hey, who had been in practice in Leeds for thirty-seven years, was equally of opinion that the symptoms were inconsistent with any known disease, but consistent with the effects of strychnia, and with nothing else. “Had he heard only the evidence of the symptoms down to Friday night, her hysterical temperament, and her recovery on the Saturday, he should not have attributed them to hysteria, but he should have thought it a most extraordinary case.”
THE PRISONER’S ACTIONS AND STATEMENTS.
In addition to the acts and statements of the prisoner reported in the “Early Life of the Prisoner” and the evidence already given, Miss Fisher deposed to his very violent threats against his wife, especially when in liquor; his telling her on one occasion “to mind her own business, or he would do her job for her”; his threatening her with a knife and striking her, and telling her “he would give her a pill”; and to his wife saying, in his presence, “If I should die, it is my wish, Elizabeth, that you should tell my friends to have my body examined”; to his writing a letter to the witchman Harrison, asking him “to torment his wife when at Manchester, as she was not a right woman”; and telling the witness that Harrison had told him that his wife’s days would end in February. He also told another witness (Elizabeth Thornhill, a charwoman) that Harrison had told him that his wife would not live long, and that he would marry the lady next door (Mrs. Witham).
Whilst the inquest was proceeding he asked Mrs. Witham how it was going on, and when she said to him, “It is a very suspicious thing that you gave her the medicine at eight o’clock and that she became ill a quarter of an hour after,” he replied, “If they ask me if I gave the medicine, I shall say I did not; and if they ask if she took it herself, I shall say I do not know.”
To Margaret Gray, another witness, he stated on the Friday that his wife was ill of spasms, and he did not think she would live over Saturday night.
To Mary Hicks he more than once stated that he was sure his wife would die, and that Mr. Morley would want a post mortem examination, as he did in his father’s case, but that he would object to it, as he had promised his wife to do; that he should probably soon marry again; and when Mrs. Hicks told him to go back, as his wife might have another attack, he said she would not until half-past ten or eleven, and made no reply when again asked if the attacks were periodical. On the Sunday morning after his wife’s death, he told this witness that there was to be an inquest, and when she asked why, said, “Oh, we live in a bad neighbourhood, and have not lived happily together. It is all nonsense.” To the Rev. H. T. Sturgeon, the clergyman of Burley, whom he asked to visit his wife, and to whom he professed to be very anxious about her spiritual welfare, he assigned as his reason for not calling in further advice (as recommended by Mr. Morley) his fear of offending that gentleman. To a man of the name of Rose, a baker, whose name even he did not know, and whom he met by accident in a dram shop on the Thursday before his wife’s death, he said that he thought his wife would die, and told him “not to come to him till he saw her death in the paper, and then, if he lighted on a woman that would suit him, to bring her down to his house, as he could not do without one if his wife died.”
To Harrison, the watchman, on the Thursday after his wife’s death, when giving him a card for her funeral, he said there was an inquest on her. When Harrison asked why, the prisoner said, “Can they detect a grain or a grain and a half of strychnia?” “Why,” replied Harrison, “have you given her any?” “No,” replied Dove; “but I got some of Morley’s man to kill cats, and some might have been spilt and she have got it.” Again Harrison saw him the next day, when he said, “Mr. Morley has told me they have found poison in my wife. Could they take me if I go back?” “I should,” replied Harrison. “If you are innocent, go back; what occasion have you to be frightened? They will not take you if you are innocent,” and Dove then went away.
To his wife’s mother, Mrs. Jenkins, who came to his house after her daughter’s death, he said at breakfast on the Friday, the day of the adjourned inquest, “Do you know that a sprinkle of oil of almonds will kill a person? Arsenic you can detect in a body after 20 years. Belladonna you cannot; one is a mineral, the other a vegetable. There is a poison like this”—taking up a piece of salt—“in a man you can detect it, in a woman you cannot.” He told her also that he could not think but that he should marry again. When he talked about the poisons another person, a Mrs. Risdon, was present.
To Mr. Scarth, a pupil of Mr. Morley’s, who, in consequence of the latter’s engagement, was the first to see her on the 25th of February, he put the question whether Mr. Morley would require a post mortem examination if his wife died. Scarth replied that Mr. Morley generally did on all his patients who died suddenly, when the prisoner said, “I will not consent.” “Probably,” said Scarth, “as you did when your father died.” “His wife,” replied Dove, “would not consent.”
On the close of the case for the prosecution, Mr. Bliss called on the counsel to put into the box the remainder of the witnesses whose names were on the back of the bill, and Mr. Hardy, in the absence of his leader, declining to take this responsibility, Baron Bramwell, on the authority of the case of R. v. Woodhead, ruled that the prosecutor need not do so, but was bound to have the witnesses in Court so that they might, if required, be called by the defence.[82]
THE DEFENCE.
Though the defence of the prisoner was mainly rested on the question of his sanity, Mr. Bliss urged on the jury that the circumstantial evidence against him was inconclusive, turning the openness of the prisoner’s acts and conversations, and his attention to his wife during her attacks, to the best advantage. On the question of his sanity, in addition to the mischievous and cruel acts that had been elicited in cross-examination, he cited as further proof his belief in witchcraft and his frequent consultations with the witchman Harrison, and his request to that person to torment his wife, professedly to force her to return to his bed. The witchman, said counsel, not contemplating the murderous result, encouraged him, and held out such promises of future happiness that the desire ripened into practice, and the wife was murdered. Even after detection was inevitable, the confidence of the dupe remained unimpaired, and he firmly believed that the witchman could rescue him from his doom. As a proof of this insane belief the following letter written in his own blood, which had been found in his pocket when in jail, was read:—
“Dear Devil,—If you will get me clear at the assizes, and let me have the enjoyment of life, wealth, tobacco, more food and better, and my wishes granted till I am sixty, come to me to-night. I remain, your faithful subject,
“William Dove.”
MEDICAL EVIDENCE FOR THE DEFENCE.
In support of the plea of insanity, in addition to the witnesses already referred to in the introduction to this case, three medical witnesses of tried experience in lunacy, Dr. Caleb Williams (for 30 years the medical attendant at the York Asylum), Dr. Pyeman Smith (of the Leeds Lunatic Asylum), and Mr. John Kitchen (of The Retreat, at York), were called for the defence, whose evidence, it is only fair, should be given in some detail.
Dr. Williams, who had been in Court during the whole trial, and had also examined the prisoner with Mr. Kitchen a few days before the trial, was decidedly of opinion, from the evidence he had heard, that the prisoner was of unsound mind, and that his violent emotions and his belief in supernatural agency were indications of it.
“Taking into account,” said the witness, “that he had written and said similar things before about selling his soul to the devil, I think that his letter to the devil was not simulated. It appears to be written with blood. I had conversation with him about that letter when I saw him, and he told me it was written under satanic influence. The result of that conversation was that, in my opinion, it was not simulated. I have no doubt that his illusion, that he had sold himself to the devil, was a real one. I believe his incantations spoken of were connected with his belief in supernatural agency; and I think his saying that he had put a spell on the steward arose from the same belief.[83] The letter to his schoolmaster, in which he declared his sanity, is very like what is done by insane persons—they declare they are sane. His talking to various persons about strychnia showed the weakness of his mind. The effect of drink on a lunatic are to make him violent and dangerous. Persons liable to insanity would exhibit a tendency and inclination to drink. I think from what I have heard he has not the power of controlling his emotions and passions. None of them at all times.[84] There would be periods when he would have control over some. The circumstance of his shooting the cat showed an uncontrollable impulse to injure or take life; and seeing it was not expended in injuring the man, he shot the cat. The effect of confining a person for several weeks on strictly sober diet, who has before been subject to get drunk, would be to reduce him to a calm condition. The Castle diet is sober (Dove’s prison). From all I have heard and seen, I consider his powers of mind, during the fatal week were probably influenced by his notions regarding supernatural agency, and that consequently he was the subject of a delusion. During that week, labouring under such delusions, he might retain his power of adapting means to an end, and of judging of the consequences. He could not under those delusions have the power of resisting any impulse.”
On cross-examination by Mr. Overend, after repudiating the notion that his evidence was tinged by religious objections to capital punishment, the witness said:—
“I should not call administering poison five or six times an impulse, but a propensity—an uncontrollable propensity to destroy life, and give pain. For the time it would be a permanent condition of the mind, and might select the special object, and constantly seek opportunities of carrying out the propensity. I think a person with such a propensity would not know that he was doing wrong. I think he might fear the consequences, and know that punishment would follow. He would know, probably, that he was breaking the law. I say that, because he would have a very incorrect appreciation of right and wrong. He would not know at the time that he would be hanged. I found that opinion on the occupation of the mind by the insane propensity. It is uncertain whether he would know it before he did it. He might after he had done it. He might do a murder secretly, because he could not otherwise do it. A propensity of that kind generally acts without a motive. One of the peculiarities is that a person seeks no escape: in certain cases acknowledges his crime. The propensity may come on suddenly: an impulse comes on suddenly—a propensity more frequently comes on slowly, and starts from a considerable time. If a man gives way to his passions, and commits a rape, I call that a vice, and not a propensity. Supposing a cruel man, who wishes to get rid of his wife, quarrels with her, in the abstract that is a vice. Supposing a man to have taken every precaution against discovery, and pains to procure poison for his wife, and to prepare for her death, I should think that a vice, and not a delusion. Supposing a man of cruel disposition had formed a dislike to his wife, and wanted to get rid of her, and had nursed that dislike into a propensity to kill. I should call that an insane propensity. I don’t say that every man who dislikes his wife, and wishes to get rid of her, is insane. When he acquires the propensity to kill, and cannot control it, he is insane.”
Question.—“If a person lived with his wife, hated her, and determined to, and did kill her, what is the difference between that determination which is vice, and that propensity which is insanity?”
Answer.—“The prisoner’s history would be required to determine whether it was vice or insanity.”
Question.—“Supposing a man was determined to kill his wife, and he nurses the thought for six months, till the desire becomes uncontrollable, when does the desire become insanity?”
Answer.—“When by nourishing such an idea, the mind becomes diseased, and he cannot control his acts—that applies to other things.”
Question.—“If a man dwells on the possession of a woman till he cannot control his desire, would that be vice or insanity?”
Answer.—“It might be insanity, and might apply to rape.[85] In insanity there is a tendency to thieve. Theft is one of the indications of moral insanity; and a man may desire to possess another man’s goods, till he cannot control his acts. He is then insane. If a man permits himself to indulge a passion till he becomes uncontrollable, that is moral insanity, and he is not responsible. Consulting a sorcerer, and all superstitious beliefs, are indications of a weak mind. Belief in clairvoyance and dreams is not necessarily an indication of insanity. A belief in spiritual rappings, I should infer, was an indication of a weak mind. Talking to persons about strychnia, and his wife’s death, I think indicated a feeble state of mind.”
On re-examination, Dr. Williams said—
“Imitativeness is one of the characteristics of insanity, and hearing strychnia and Palmer’s trial very much talked about would be very likely, in a weak mind, to produce imitation. You must know a man’s history before you can say whether his acts proceed from vice or insanity. Madness very frequently developes itself in great cunning and foresightedness when reasoning on false premises. I have frequently known insane persons to attempt to escape from the asylum, and to have shown great cleverness in their preparations for it extending over several days.”
Question.—“Suppose you had heard the case of a man put to you who wished to get rid of his wife, and had from his childhood displayed cruelty of disposition—had threatened to shoot his father; said he heard supernatural noises, sometimes treated his wife kindly, and sometimes cried like no other man, would you have any doubt that he was insane?”
Answer.—“No! and not fit to be at large. I should have no difficulty, as a medical man, in certifying that he was a lunatic. Lunatics have often displayed great ingenuity in committing theft and concealing it. The passion of lust frequently becomes a disease of the mind. When the prisoner gave his cows linseed to take one night, to fatten them for market the next morning, that I should deem an indication of an unsound mind.”
In reply to questions by the Judge, the witness said:—
”It would require a longer period than a month to establish disease and an uncontrollable propensity to commit a crime. If a man committed a crime, having thought of it for a month, I should not say he was of unsound mind. The difference would depend on length of time. Some men’s minds, previously weak, would take a shorter time, and very exciting causes would shorten the time; but there must be an appreciable period, and an interval for the mind to pass into a morbid condition from the continual contemplation of one object. The period is necessarily very uncertain, from the variable effect of emotions and circumstances on the mind.”
The Judge.—“Suppose, at the time when he shot the cat, a policeman had come in, would he have shot it?”[86]
Answer.—“No. The presence of the policeman would probably have controlled him; he would probably have expended the impulse on some person or something else. Unless the person is exceedingly violent, the presence of a policeman would have some influence to control him.”
Question.—“Whenever a man commits a crime, is it because he is uncontrolled by existing circumstances?”
Answer.—“It is.”
The Judge.—“Then what is the difference between such a man and the case you put?”
Answer.—“In the case I put the impulse is uncontrollable, because his mind would be so occupied with his purpose.”
The Judge.—“Is it true of everybody, whether sane or insane, that when intent on an act they forget the consequences?”
Answer.—“An insane man would be more likely to forget consequences. Sane and insane persons would talk about occurrences. How and what they talked about would depend on their judgment.”
The witness wished to say with regard to the question as to shooting the cat, that he thought the impulse of destruction was so strong at the time, that he could not control it, and must have shot something.[87]
Dr. Pyeman Smith, the proprietor of a private lunatic asylum at Leeds for the past 15 years, though, from what he had heard and seen, he was prepared to declare that Dove was of unsound mind during the fatal week, and had been so for the last 20 years, admitted, on cross-examination, that he did know right from wrong during that period. He, however, on re-examination, qualified this admission.
“A decided lunatic,” said the witness, “very often knows right from wrong, and yet may be regardless of any consequences from his acts. He may be utterly unable to refrain from doing an act, though he knew it was wrong. I cannot say the prisoner was utterly unable to refrain from wrong during the fatal week. Circumstances might enable him to refrain—other circumstances.”
To the Judge.—“Not a greater degree of punishment. I have already said he was entirely regardless of circumstances.”
Mr. Bliss objected to this line of examination by the judge.
The Judge.—“I am entitled to, and in my opinion bound to, and I will put the questions.”
Witness then continued—
“Not possessing the poison would be a circumstance which would have prevented him. I believe, during the week, it was from unsoundness of mind that he was regardless of consequences.”
Mr. John Kitchen, superintendent of The Retreat at York, where the patients averaged a hundred, also agreed with the previous medical witnesses, that Dove was of unsound mind during the fatal week. He, however, admitted that “during that period he knew right from wrong, had some knowledge of the difference—some knowledge that he was committing murder—and that if found out he would be punished.” This admission he sought to explain away, on re-examination, protesting that what he meant was “that Dove knew he was killing his wife, but did not know he was doing a wrong act—that he would know in proportion as he knew the difference between right and wrong.”
Question by a juryman.—“Do you adopt the theory of Dr. Smith as to irresistible propensity in mania?”
Answer.—“In general terms I do.”
Question.—“Do you adopt it in this case?”
Answer.—“I do not. I account for the murder, if he committed it, on different principles. We have a man of deficient mental powers; besides that he is insane; he is liable to do any absurd, cruel, or vicious or irrational action that presented itself to his mind, as his life shows. Supposing him to be insane, I should apply the term vicious or malignant to him. We have heard, in evidence, that he was brought up by pious parents, put to the best schools, and was unable to receive the smallest amount of education. We see him carried away to do the most foolish things. Where he loves, he loves with a foolish intensity; and where he hates, he hates with a foolish malignity: and if a woman puts herself into the power of such a man as his wife, what has happened is just what might have been expected.”
To Mr. Overend.—“I think he knew right from wrong—that it was wrong to steal or murder. If he murdered, I should expect him to deny it in that form of insanity. In one form of insanity, impulsive madness, they own their crime. This case was only partly impulsive, and I should not expect him to divulge it. If he thought of this crime before he committed it, he would know it was wrong. He probably would learn it was wrong in his childhood. It is impossible to say when he committed the act he knew it was wrong. I don’t know when he would know it was wrong. I can give no opinion about it.”
On re-examination, he said:—
“There are dangerous wards in some asylums, but I should not expect to find the greatest number of impulsive cases in that ward. Sometimes impulsive lunatics are dangerous. The keepers have an influence over them—a mental influence. They formerly worked on their fears, and thus kept patients under control. There is a madness which consists in a propensity to kill. If a stranger was left with such a one in a room alone, I should expect him to exercise his propensity and kill him; and yet, probably, that patient would yield his keeper obedience. Probably the fear of some chastisement would induce fear of his keeper.”
THE JUDGE’S CHARGE.
The greater portion of Baron Bramwell’s charge was necessarily occupied by reading over and commenting on the evidence produced by the prosecution—that the death of the wife had been due to the administration of strychnia, and that the prisoner had opportunities of administering it. The evidence on these points has been already so fully reported that it is needless to give this portion of his exhaustive summing-up. His remarks on the rule of law on the plea of insanity, and on the nature of the insanity suggested by the medical witnesses, are too valuable to be omitted.
“The rules of law,” said the learned Baron, “are that it must be clearly proved that, at the time of committing the act, the party accused was labouring under such a defect of reason, from disease of the mind, as not to know the nature and quality of the act he was doing; or, if he did know it, that he did not know he was doing wrong. If the accused was conscious of the act he did, he is punishable; and what you have to consider is, had he sufficient degree of sanity to know he was doing wrong? With respect to delusions the law is the same. According to the law, as I lay it down to you on the highest authority, to exempt a man from the penal consequence of his act, the act being contrary to the law, you must be of opinion that at the time he did the act he was not conscious that it was one he ought not to do; for if he was conscious that it was contrary to law, he is punishable. You must be satisfied that he had not a sufficient degree of reason to know that he was doing an act that was wrong—of course that means an act prohibited by law: because a man might imagine that the thing was a right thing to do, and it might not be contrary to law. He might think it right to take from the rich and give to the poor. But if he did it, not knowing it was wrong, he must not know that the thing which he did was what the law would punish him for. It is not necessary for me to justify the law, or for you to approve it. We have only to administer it. Don’t, however, suppose for a moment that I doubt the reasonableness of it.
“Let me put a case to you. A man labours under a delusion. He thinks I have done him wrong—have traduced his character. He waylays and murders me. Why should he be acquitted? Suppose he was wronged, that would not justify his taking away my life. Suppose, again, a person imagined some part of his person to be made of glass, or had swallowed something, or got something wrong in his inside. Imagine that man deliberately waylaying a person, knowing that he possessed property, to take it from him, and afterwards to conceal what he had done, and to act in every other respect as a rational man. Why should he be held irresponsible for this because he was irrational in other respects?
“Why should punishment be administered at all? It was not inflicted on a man who had committed a crime because he had inflicted that upon others, but in order to hold out an example to deter other people. If you punish an insane man, you hold out no example, because you are punishing a man who thinks he is doing right. But take the case of a man who is labouring under a delusion—under an evil propensity. If you punish him when he does wrong, or any other person with a similar propensity to commit that offence, and he knows, that when he indulged in it, or that when somebody else did, he was punished for it, that will deter him from repeating or from doing that act. Take the case of a man who has a strong propensity to thieve—a strong desire on him to do it; his intellect not very strong, and he knows that he is punished if he does such an act: do not you think, if he is punished, it will deter him from doing it again? There cannot be a doubt that it is so; and if you were to announce to all the world, that a man who has a strong propensity to an evil, that a person in his condition, shall not be punished, you take away from such persons the only thing that would deter them from committing the evil. Take a man of a weak mind and strong animal propensities, and it will not deter him from committing such an act.”
Again, after going carefully through the evidence in the case, and pointing out the application of the different classes of proofs, the learned Baron said that “he thought none of the instances of strange conduct adduced when the prisoner was a boy evidence of insanity more than might be found in the conduct of a perverse, ill-conducted boy;” and contrasted the opinions of the witnesses as to his being almost an idiot with the letters written by him, which exhibited no traces of mental incapacity.[88] In commenting on the opinions of the medical men of experience in insanity, he adopted the judgment of Dr. Lushington in the Dyce Sombre case, “that the facts to which they depose, and not their opinions alone, were of weight;” and added “that he sincerely believed that the jury were as capable of judging as these mad doctors.”
“Two of them,” continued the learned judge, “were of opinion that the contemplation of a crime constituted insanity, if it were only contemplated enough. Then it was said that a man who had a propensity to vice, to cruelty, to crime, was insane. Take the case of a man found guilty at these assizes of a crime. It is found that he has twice been convicted before and in prison half a dozen times, and that he has a general propensity to commit crime. In such a case, why should not Dr. Williams come forward and say, “You are wrong. He is insane; you ought not to punish him.” If they believed these experts you would take away protection from the community, because they would have a check less to prevent the commission of crime. It would be affectation in him to say that he did not set a value on this scientific evidence. But he would rather take his own independent opinion, than that of others, on the facts. But it was not for him to do more than comment, and for the jury to judge of its value—of the conduct of the prisoner, of his letters, and of the arguments before them.”
After a brief consideration the jury returned a verdict of “guilty, but recommended him to mercy on the ground of his defective intellect.” Sentence of death was passed on him, and he was executed at York.
THE PRISONER’S CONFESSIONS.
A day or two before his execution Dove dictated two long and extraordinary statements of his connection with the “Witchman,” and the part played in the tragedy by this dangerous man, which contrast strongly with the evidence given by Harrison himself, and probably disclose facts which that person was glad to conceal at the time of his examination.
In the first of these statements he details his earlier interviews with the “Witchman” on the subjects of recovering lost cattle, removing strange noises from his house, and the bewitching of his live stock, in which Harrison appears to have played off on him the common tricks of his trade. His confidence in this fellow was unfortunately largely increased by his prophecying that Dove’s father would die before a certain Christmas Day—he died on Christmas Eve—and led him to consult the “Witchman” about his wife when he first conceived his violent hatred towards her.
“About August, 1855,” he says, “I had some unpleasantness with my wife, and went over to Harrison at Leeds, told him of it, and he promised to make it all right. He told me I must let him know by letter how things went on. In two days after this I wrote him that my wife was no better, and that he must do something to make peace. I sent this by Fisher, a porter at the railway station, to post. Mrs. Dove knew I had written, but not what about. She therefore sent the servant to Fisher, got back the letter, took out what I had written, and put in a blank sheet.[89] I did not know this at the time, but, hearing some whispering, wrote another letter, and posted it myself about two o’clock. At three I went myself to Harrison, who told me he had received a blank sheet, and asked why, and I told him. I then informed him of the unpleasantness and unhappiness with my wife, and he said ‘You will never have happiness till she is out of the way.’ I said ‘How do you know that.’ He said ‘Come upstairs and I’ll tell you, for I’ve got your nativity marked out.’ [Upstairs he showed him a paper with the signs of the Zodiac, and hieroglyphical forms and numbers, which he describes at length.] Harrison then read out of a book my destiny. Between twenty-seven and thirty-two all would go against me. I should have nothing but misfortunes; that at thirty-two the sun and moon would come into conjunction, and then everything would be in my favour; that at thirty-two I should lose my wife, marry again, and have a child, and an addition to my fortune; and that for my sake he did not care how soon it was here, for until then I should never be a happy man; that after ‘thirty-two’ everything would go well for a few years. He made other remarks as to different periods of my life.”
Then follow the usual enquiries about the kind of person that was to be his second wife.
“I saw Harrison again in November about my wife’s temper. He said never mind, ‘she will die before the end of February or March, I am not certain which.’ When he told me my wife would die soon I said ‘You have told me before she would die at thirty-two.’ He replied ‘Before thirty-two, but I did not say how much before.’ In a few days afterwards (after December 21) I went to the ‘New Cross Inn,’ and Harrison came in with a newspaper and read about Palmer’s case. I then asked him whether strychnia could be detected, and he said ‘No, nor any other vegetable poison.’ I then said ‘What other vegetable poisons are there that cannot be detected? and he said ‘Digitalis, belladonna, particularly if crystallised; he could not remember more then.’ I then asked him to get or make me some strychnia, as we were much annoyed in our new house with cats, but he refused. I told him I would get some elsewhere.
“I went to him again in January last about my wife. I told him about my wife’s temper and her being poorly then, and he again said, ‘She won’t live long; she will never get better. As I told you before, she will die in February.’
“I had no further communication with Harrison until the 6th of March, when I sent for him to the ‘New Cross Inn,’ and told him my wife had died, and that an inquest was to be held. He asked, ‘Why?’ I said, ‘My wife died very suddenly, and Mr. Morley cannot account for it, and it is known that I had strychnia in the house. Mr. Morley thinks some may have been spilt, and my wife got at it accidentally.’ I then said, ‘You told me strychnia could not be detected, but I have seen in the Materia Medica that it can;[90] what is your opinion now? Can a grain to a grain and a half be detected, for there is a great difference on the subject? Professor Taylor says it cannot be detected twenty-four hours after death in the human body.’ Harrison said, ‘What, have you poisoned your wife?’ I replied, ‘No, I should be very sorry to.’ Nothing more passed then.
“On Friday, the 7th, whilst the inquest was going on, I went to the back door of Harrison’s house, about 3 P.M., and said to him ‘that several witnesses had been called, and I was suspected of poisoning my wife,’ and added, ‘How will the case go?’ He said, ‘It will be a very difficult case, but I can get you out.’ I said, ‘You only say you can; but tell me, will you?’ and he replied, ‘Set yourself altogether at rest; I will.’”
In the second statement he gives details of his administration of the strychnia, declaring that even when he got the second portion of that poison from Mr. Morley’s pupil he had no intention of poisoning his wife, but only intended it for the cats. His first attempt was with the jelly his sister Jane had sent, of which, it may be remembered, the wife, on the score of its bitterness, took only a spoonful. He then goes on:—
“On the Saturday, after Fisher left,[91] I took the paper containing the strychnia out of my razor-case and put it in my waistcoat-pocket, and then went to my mother’s house. In the afternoon I had previously called at Mr. Morley’s for my wife’s medicine. It was an effervescing draught, in two bottles. At my mother’s that evening I took the cork out of one of the bottles and touched the wet end of it with the strychnia. On that Saturday evening my wife took some of the draught in Mrs. Witham’s presence. Mrs. Witham tasted it, and said it tasted bitter. The draught was not shaken that night before taken. My wife did not suffer from the effects at all. On my way from my mother’s that night I threw away the remainder of the strychnia. I cannot tell you the feelings of my mind when I put the strychnia into the jelly and the mixture. I did not think at the moment as to its effects and consequences. On the Sunday following, which was the 24th of February, I went to the surgery; and there being no person there at the time, I took perhaps ten grains of strychnia and folded them in paper, and when I got home placed it in the stable. On the Monday morning I gave my wife her medicine—the effervescent mixture—about half-past nine, and at ten she had the attack mentioned by Mrs. Fisher and Mrs. Witham. At the time she took it she complained very much of the bitterness, and said she would tell Mr. Morley about it. There were three or four doses left in the bottle after that draught was taken, and I broke the bottle in my wife’s presence, fearing Mr. Morley might taste it. The mixture was changed on the Monday; the mixture then given was very bitter. On Tuesday night or Wednesday morning I applied the wet end of the cork of the medicine-bottle to the strychnia, as before. I think there might be from half to a grain of strychnia on the cork when I put it into the bottle. I shook the mixture up. There were only two or three doses in the bottle. I don’t remember my wife having an attack on the Wednesday. She took her medicine that day. On Thursday I got another bottle of medicine from Mr. Morley, and I again applied the wet end of the cork to the strychnia as before. About the same quantity adhered. The last dose of that medicine was taken on Friday night about ten, and my wife was taken seriously ill in half an hour, but she had no arching of the back, as far as I can remember. Mrs. Fisher is mistaken in that point, but her statement in other respects is true, I believe. On that Friday night I got another bottle of medicine from Mr. Morley’s, directed to be taken four times a day. I did not put any strychnia into that bottle, or upon its cork. Mrs. Witham gave a dose out of that bottle in the afternoon of Saturday.[92] The strychnia was in the stable, where I had first placed it, and there was none in the razor-case on that day, nor during any part of that week. I was drinking at Sadlefee’s public-house on that Saturday, and was more or less affected with drink all that afternoon and evening. About three in the afternoon I went to the stable and took a grain and a half of strychnia out of the stable and put it in another paper, which I placed in my waistcoat-pocket. I put that strychnia into the wine-glass which contained a little water—I believe the water left in the glass by Mrs. Witham after giving my wife the third dose in the afternoon, but I have no recollection as to the time I put the strychnia into the glass. I gave the mixture in the evening, as stated by Mrs. Witham and Mrs. Wood in their evidence. I poured the mixture into the glass which contained the water and strychnia. I did not put the strychnia into the wine-glass in the presence of Mrs. Witham and Mrs. Wood. I know that I put it in before, but cannot tell how long before giving the medicine. I did not, when I gave the medicine on the occasions mentioned, think of the consequences; but when I saw my wife suffering on the Saturday night, it flashed across my mind that I had given her medicine, and that she would die from the effects. I was muddled before this, and did not know what I was doing. When the thoughts of her death crossed my mind, I regretted what I had done, and believe that if Mr. Morley had come in at that moment I should have told him what I had given her, so that he might have used means to restore her. I cannot disguise the anguish I felt when I returned from Mr. Morley’s and found her dead. Palmer’s case first called my attention to strychnia, but I never should have thought of using that or any other poison for the purpose of taking my wife’s life but for Harrison, who was always telling me that I should never have any happiness till my wife was out of the way.”[93]
TRIAL OF SILAS BARLOW FOR THE WILFUL MURDER OF ELIZA SOPER.
Before The Honorable Mr. Justice Denman, at the Central Criminal Court, November 27, 1876.
For the Prosecution: Mr. Poland and Mr. Beasley.
For the Defence: Mr. Fulton and Mr. Grubbe.
HISTORY OF THE CASE.
The prisoner, an engine driver on the South-Western Railway, about a year before the trial, on being left a widower, had formed a connection with the deceased, who, with their infant, came to lodge at the house of a Mrs. Wilson, in Leopold Street, Vauxhall, in August, 1876, under the name of Smith, where she was occasionally visited by the prisoner, who passed as her husband. Apparently they lived together on kindly terms, and were in fairly comfortable circumstances. On the 3rd of September the prisoner visited her about half-past eight in the evening, and stayed an hour. Up to that day the deceased had been in good health. As soon, however, as the prisoner had left, she came down from her room, knocked at the landlady’s door, and complained to her that she was very sick from the sarsaparilla which he had given her. “Her lips were white, she was very nervous, and appeared hardly able to stand,” said Mrs. Wilson. “I had never seen her so before. She went upstairs, and when I went to bed I went to her. She was retching very much, and sitting in a chair. I then went away. Next morning I saw her; she came downstairs and said she was very bad—worse. She could not stand, and had to lean against the wall. During the day she became better.”
THE SYMPTOMS.
The prisoner came again on the Sunday following, the 10th, at the same time as before.
“The deceased,” said Mrs. Wilson, “was at the street door, talking to me, with her baby, and in perfect health. They went up into their room, and in about an hour the prisoner knocked at my room door and said his wife had had two fits. I ran upstairs and found her lying across the bed; the prisoner was in the room. She was in a kind of fit or convulsion. I sent the prisoner for some brandy and water. She became a little conscious, and taking me by the hand said ‘Don’t touch me.’ She had been unconscious, but the moment she was touched she went into convulsions. Her feet and hands were clenched, and she was drawn quite backwards, her back forming an entire arch. She was not conscious then. The prisoner was holding her all the time. About half past ten I sent him for Dr. Miller, who came at once, and applied mustard plasters, remaining with her about five minutes, and the prisoner going back with him for medicine. She was slightly conscious when Dr. Miller came, and more so afterwards. Her feet were quite white(?)[94] the toes being drawn backwards to the soles of the feet. I did what the doctor told me, but it did not do her any good. I tried to give her the medicine, but she could not take it, and went off in a swoon. She had licked the spoon. She then had dreadful convulsions, one in particular, when it took the prisoner and me to hold her. Her neck was drawn backwards and quite arched. After that she became quite conscious, and said it was the nasty sarsaparilla that made her ill. The prisoner said ‘Oh no. I have taken more of it than you.’ He also said ‘I have given her two pills and taken two myself.’ She complained of a dreadful pain in her heart, and continued unconscious, coming to herself a little at times, but very slightly. The convulsions were dreadful, and she died about two o’clock on the eleventh. She seemed to drop instantly after a dreadful convulsion. I gave her two doses of the medicine the doctor sent. I had not seen any sarsaparilla in the room.”
On cross-examination by Mr. Fulton, after stating that she had never heard any quarrels between the prisoner and the deceased, she gave the following further particulars as to the symptoms:—
“In the evening, when I was called in, her eyes were partly closed during the convulsions; her breathing very hot (hard?) and at most suspended; her teeth entirely clenched and also her hands during the convulsions. She wanted to be sick shortly before her death; her lips were pale, and remained so until her death. The prisoner tried to move her, when she became sick, and she went into convulsions. He helped to hold her, and said he could not imagine what was the matter with her; seemed distressed, and sat on the bed holding her. To all appearance he was kind to her but not affectionate. She was more unconscious than conscious during the whole time. About twelve o’clock she appeared quite conscious. She had to move herself so that she could be sick, and caught hold of the bed head, and then went again into convulsions. Virtually she was unconscious the whole time. Dr. Miller came a second time, and she told him she had had some fearful fits, but I cannot recollect whether I said anything about the ‘arching.’ There was none when he saw her, but her feet were curved, and I told him about the ‘shakings,’ I mean the ‘convulsions.’ I first heard from the coroners officer that she had died of strychnia. I had previously told him the symptoms attending her death, but don’t remember telling him of the ‘arching.’ He said there was every appearance of her having died from strychnia.”
MEDICAL EVIDENCE.
James Miller, medical assistant at the Vauxhall dispensary, before that with Mr. Scott, a general practitioner, and previously an insurance agent, gave the following account of the case:—
“About twenty minutes to eleven on the 10th of September I was called by the prisoner to his wife, who he said had had two fainting fits. I found her lying on the bed, dressed, and quite conscious. She lay very quietly. She said she had severe pain in the legs, and that she had fainted twice. I asked her if she had complained during the week. She said only of pains in the head. I found the calves of her legs very rigid, her feet turned slightly inwards, the toes of each foot inclined towards the other as she lay, cramp in the lower limbs, her arms quiet. She beat her breast at times. Her hands were partly closed, her heart very excited, and her breathing slightly laboured. Her heart continued excited all the time I was there, about five minutes. I asked her what she had taken. She said a cup of tea in the morning and a herring at tea. She said she had pain in her head all the last week. I believed she was suffering from epilepsy. On leaving, the prisoner returned with me; I made up a bottle of medicine, antispasmodic, which he took away with him. I never saw her again alive.”
On cross-examination he said—
“He did not notice any such ‘arching’ as the witness Wilson spoke of, nor did she mention it to him as one of the symptoms. Nor should he call what he saw of the feet ‘arching.’ He had only seen one case of epilepsy before—that was twelve months ago—and the symptoms in it were very similar to what he saw in the deceased. He saw the body immediately after death; there was no ‘arching’ of it then. If there had been he should have seen it. She was lying, with her clothes on, on the bed. If there had been any marked rigidity of the body he should have observed it; that was a quarter of an hour after death.”
Re-examined by Mr. Poland.—“She had her clothes on when he saw her, and part of her body might have been covered with the bedclothes. In the case of epilepsy he referred to, the person died in six hours. He prescribed no pills, only the mixture.”
Proof was then given of the finding in the prisoner’s room of six bottles of medicine, a box with two pills,[95] and a packet of powder in dirty paper, and of their delivery to Dr. Lees, and subsequently to Dr. Bernays for analysis. It was not, however, until suspicions were aroused by other circumstances (the finding of the body of the infant in the river) that a post-mortem examination was held by Dr. Lees, and the contents of the stomach and other interior parts of the body analysed by him, and subsequently handed to Dr. Bernays for the same purpose. In one of the bottles Dr. Bernays found a distinct sediment of Prussian blue, pointing clearly to the use of some vermin killer. Subsequently two kinds of these dangerous preparations were submitted to and analysed by him.
ANALYTICAL EVIDENCE.
Dr. Lees, M.D., of the Brixton Road, on the 18th of September made a post-mortem examination of the body in conjunction with a Dr. Lewis. They found no morbid appearances to indicate the cause of death—the limbs were somewhat rigid, the body fairly nourished, and the stomach showed no sign of irritant poison.
“It contained,” said the witness, “six ounces of a thin reddish fluid. I put the stomach and contents into a jar, and the viscera into another. I received the bottles from the constable and the paper of powder, and saw some pills at the inquest. Among the bottles was one of the larger ones, which appeared to have contained a few ounces of good sarsaparilla—it was empty and rinsed out. One bottle contained about two grains of dried powder, adhering to the bottle. I added to the bottle a few drachms of water, two drachms of spirits of wine, thirty drops of hydrochloric acid, and two grains of dried powder. My purpose up to that time was to test for strychnia, but it was frustrated. What I had done was not sufficient to enable me to form an opinion. I had previously analysed a portion of a two-ounce phial, containing half a drachm or thirty drops of a reddish brown fluid—half a spoonful. I first tested five drops, and obtained clear evidence of strychnia. I was enabled to separate from the rest a substance that yielded strychnia. I used three separate tests; the second time with ten drops, and obtained needle-shaped crystals. I showed the colour to Dr. Bernays. I did not test the bottle for any other purpose. I left the rest (five drops) in the bottle and corked it up. Half a grain of strychnia is a fatal dose. I have been in practice fourteen years, and am of opinion that if Mrs. Wilson’s description of the symptoms is correct, they were consistent with death from strychnia. They only resemble the disease known as idiopathic tetanus. If Mrs. Wilson’s description is correct, the symptoms were not consistent with anything I know except death by strychnia—it came on so rapidly. If strychnia were administered in solution, the symptoms would come on in a very few minutes. Strychnia occasionally produces irritation of the stomach. The symptoms of poisoning by it are the rapid occurrence of twitchings in the limbs and rigidity of the muscles of the limbs, usually commencing in the lower extremities; the sense of weight on the chest, the extension of the spasms to the muscles of the trunk, the arching back of the head, the intervals of consciousness, the absence of any great difficulty in swallowing, and death in six hours. Mr. Miller’s evidence is consistent with death from strychnia.”
The cross-examination was, as in Mrs. Wilson’s case, directed to the eliciting admissions in favour of the opinion, at first adopted by Mr. Miller, that the death was due to epilepsy.
“Leaving out the ‘arching’” (opisthotonos), said the witness, “I should hesitate to say she died of strychnia; it is a leading symptom, and also that the intellect was clear at intervals. Vomiting is not usual in epilepsy. It was eight days after death that I examined the body. There was then no rigidity beyond what I might expect in death. The lungs were congested, the heart flabby and decomposed, spongy from putrefaction, and containing a little coagulated blood. Taking the appearances of the whole post-mortem examination, there were no marked ones to account for death.”
Dr. A. J. Bernays, professor of chemistry at St. Thomas’s Hospital, to whom the bottles and powder found in the room, the jars with the stomach, intestines, and viscera, and a bottle supposed to contain vomit,[96] had been handed on the 28th of October, reported the results of his analysis of their contents.[97]