On the second charge, that of administering poison on the 22nd or

23rd of February, the following evidence was offered. On the 21st of

February Miss Smith openly purchased an ounce and a half of arsenic

of the chemist Murdoch, ostensibly for the purpose—a false one, as

the evidence proved—of killing rats at her father’s country house.

It was mixed with soot, of which she some days afterwards spoke to

the chemist, saying she thought arsenic was white. If, therefore, the

lovers met on the 22nd, or 23rd, she had poison in her possession.

Whether L’Angelier went out on the night of the 22nd, his landlady

could not say:[114] she did not hear him come in, but, when she went

into his room early the next morning, she found him suffering from his

second attack of illness for which Dr. Thomson attended him, and from

which he recovered in about eight days. That the symptoms were those of

arsenical poisoning was hardly to be doubted, and though Dr. Thomson

at the time attributed them to billious derangement, he said, that,

“had he known that L’Angelier had taken an irritant poison, those were

the symptoms he should expect to follow.” The evidence that the lovers

had met on the night of the 22nd, or morning of the 23rd, rested on a

letter, which not only did not bear any date or day of the week, but

the post-mark on which was so obliterated that the post-office official

could not fix any date, though he thought he could see the “M” of

March on the stamp, which counsel on both sides agreed in considering

an error. In that letter Miss Smith wrote: “I am so sorry to hear you

are ill. I hope to God you will soon be better—-- you did look bad on

Sunday night and Monday morning. I think you got sick with walking home

so late, and the long want of food; so, next time we meet, I shall make

you eat a loaf of bread before you go.” This letter the Lord Advocate

assumed to be written on Wednesday, the 25th of February, and to refer

to the meeting on the night of the 22nd and morning of the 23rd. To

Miss Perry, on the 9th of March, L’Angelier spoke of having had a cup

of coffee and chocolate from Miss Smith, which Miss Perry understood to

refer to two occasions, and added, “I can’t think why I was so unwell

after getting that coffee and chocolate from her.” “It ought not to

be forgotten,” said the Lord Justice Clerk, “that the contents of the

stomach on these two illnesses had not been examined, and therefore

it was merely an inference that they were caused by arsenic—an

inference drawn from the fact that on the 22nd of March he died from

that poison.” With reference to the purchase of arsenic, the learned

Judge added: “He attached little importance to the statements of the

druggists as to what was said by the prisoner about rats; without

stating some such objects she would not have got it at all; and it

was not to be supposed, if she had wanted it as a cosmetic, that she

would tell the druggist. Did she see the deceased on the Sunday night,

before the arsenic was administered? Mrs. Jenkins did not see him go

out of the house that night, and he asked the jury to consider whether

there was, on the whole, apart from the correspondence, evidence that

they had met together that night? If there was no proof that the

administration took place on the 22nd of February, then there was

great force in the observation that the foundation of the case for the

prosecution had been shaken.”

On the third charge—that of poisoning on the 22nd or 23rd of March,

the following facts were proved. On his return to work, after his

second illness, L’Angelier was so altered in health, his complexion

wan, with a dark, hectic spot on each cheek, that leave of absence was

given to him, for the first time since he had been in this employ.

Miss Smith had advised him to take rest and change, and L’Angelier

had apparently told her that he should go to the Bridge of Allan. On

the third of March, however, Miss Smith writes that her family are

going to the same place, and the next day suggests that he should go

to the South of England. On the 5th of March he writes her a painfully

earnest letter on the reports about her intended marriage with Mr.

Minnoch, concluding: “Mind, I insist on having an explicit answer to

the question you evaded in my last.” Next day the prisoner purchases

another sixpenny-worth of arsenic, not again of Murdoch, but of Currie,

and this time the excuse is that the house in Blythswood Square is so

overrun with rats, that it is to be shut up and the servants sent away

till the vermin is eradicated. This again was pure invention on her

part. The family went to the Bridge of Allan, whence on Tuesday, the

10th of March, the prisoner wrote to L’Angelier that they would be home

again in Glasgow on the next Monday or Tuesday, when she would write to

arrange an interview, adding, “I long to see you, to kiss and embrace

you, my only sweet love.” Before this the Minnoch marriage had been

arranged, and the day talked about, if not definitively fixed. Again

on the 13th she wrote him: “I think we shall be home on Tuesday, so

I shall let you know, my own beloved sweet pet, when we shall have a

dear, sweet interview; when I may be pressed to your heart, and kissed

by you, my own sweet love. A fond, tender embrace; a kiss, sweet love!

I hope you will enjoy your visit here.” It had been previously arranged

between them that L’Angelier should not come to the Bridge of Allan

until her family had left.

During this visit of the Smiths to the Bridge of Allan, L’Angelier was

taking his leave of absence. On the 6th of March he left for Edinburgh,

and returned to Glasgow on the 17th, and, finding no letter for him,

stayed at home all the next day waiting for it. On the 19th he left

for the Bridge of Allan, where he was to stay for a week, his friend

Thuau undertaking to forward his letters. On the 19th, after he had

left, a letter came, and Thuau forwarded it that night, and it reached

Stirling at nine the next morning. That letter was not to be found. In

his tourist’s bag, however, the envelope of it was discovered, and,

from a letter which he wrote to Miss Perry on the 20th, in which he

said, “I should have come to see some one last night, but the letter

was too late,” it may be fairly assumed that it contained the wished

for appointment for the Thursday night. On the 18th the prisoner bought

her third packet of arsenic at Currie’s. Several dead rats, she said,

had been found, and it was feared some large ones still remained. This

time she had a female companion with her, and, as she had to Murdoch

expressed her surprise at the arsenic she had previously purchased

not being white, she again used the same expression at Currie’s. This

arsenic was coloured with indigo. On the 21st the last of the long

series of letters reached L’Angelier’s lodgings, and was forwarded

at once by Thuau. “Why, my beloved, did you not come to me?” she

wrote. “Oh, my beloved, are you ill? Come to me. Sweet one, I waited

and waited for you, but you came not. I shall wait again to-morrow

night—same hour and arrangement.” That letter, which was found in

his pocket, was received by him after nine on Sunday morning. He left

the Bridge of Allan shortly after evening service began, and was

at his lodgings by eight o’clock that evening. To accomplish this

L’Angelier had walked to Stirling, taken the train from there to

Coatbridge, where a Mr. Ross found him, and, after some refreshment

at the station, walked with him to Glasgow, apparently quite well,

and walking briskly.[115] When he arrived at his lodgings he appeared

greatly improved in health since he left on the previous Thursday, was

in high spirits, and said that the letter had brought him back. He left

his lodgings about nine o’clock, is seen soon after sauntering in the

direction of Blythswood Square, but not near the Smiths’ house, as it

was the hour there for family prayers. To wile away the time he calls

on a Mr. M’Alister, who is not at home, and from that time till he came

back to his lodgings, after midnight, all trace of him is lost. At two

o’clock the next morning the door-bell rang violently; his landlady

went down, and found L’Angelier at the door, standing with his arms

across his stomach. He was suffering from his fatal illness, already

too bad to be able to use his pass key. How that attack progressed, and

what its symptoms were, and what was the result of the _post-mortem_

and analytical examinations, has already been reported.

“Here,” said the learned Judge, “the proof stops. And, supposing you

are quite satisfied that the letter brought him to Glasgow,[116] are

you in a condition to say, with satisfaction to your own consciences,

that, as an inevitable and just result of that, you can find it proved

that they met that night?[117] That is the point in the case. That you

may have the strongest moral suspicion that they met—that you may

believe that he was able, after all their clandestine correspondence,

to obtain the means of an interview, especially as she complained of

his not coming on the Thursday, said she would wait again to-morrow

night, same hour and place, and talked of wishing to clasp him to her

bosom—that you may suppose it likely that, although he failed to keep

his appointment on Saturday, she would be waiting on Sunday, which was

by no means an uncommon evening for their appointment—_all that may

be very true, and probably you will think so; but remember you are

trying this case upon evidence that must be satisfactory, complete, and

distinct._

“A jury may safely infer certain facts from the correspondence. They

may even safely infer that meetings took place, when they find these

meetings either mutually appointed or arranged for by the parties. But

it is for you to say here whether it has been proved that L’Angelier

was in the house that night. If you can hold that that link in the

chain is supplied by just and satisfactory inference—remember, I say

just and satisfactory—and it is for you to say whether the inference

is just and satisfactory in order to complete the proof. If you really

feel that in your own minds, you may have the strongest suspicion that

he saw her; for really no one need hesitate to say that, as a matter

of moral opinion, the whole probabilities of the case are in favour

of it. But if that is all the amount that you can derive from it, the

link still remains awanting—the catastrophe and the alleged cause of

it are not found together. And therefore you must be satisfied that

you can here stand and rely upon the firm foundation, I say, of a just

and sound, and perhaps I may add, inevitable inference. That a jury

is entitled often to draw such an inference there is no doubt; and

it is just because you belong to that class of men to whom the Lord

Advocate referred, namely, men of common sense, capable of exercising

your judgment upon a matter which is laid before you to consider, it is

on that very account that you are to put to yourselves the question,

‘Is this a satisfactory and a just inference?’ If you find it so, I

cannot tell you that you are not at liberty to act upon it, because

most of those matters occurring in life must depend upon circumstantial

evidence, and upon the inference a jury may feel bound to draw. But

it is an inference of a very serious character—it is an inference

upon which the death of this party by the hand of the prisoner must

depend.”[118]

CONDUCT AND STATEMENTS OF THE PRISONER AFTER L’ANGELIER’S DEATH.

In her declaration Miss Smith stated that she heard of L’Angelier’s

death on the afternoon of Monday, the 23rd. On the Wednesday evening

she was out at a party, and at eight o’clock the next morning she

had left the house. In consequence Mr. Minnoch, and a brother of the

prisoner, thinking apparently that she had gone to her father’s country

house, took the rail to Greenock, and the steamer thence to Row, on

board which they found her a little after two in the afternoon. She

said she was going to Rowaleyn, and they went on with her, and from

thence brought her to Glasgow in a carriage. “When we met her on the

steamboat,” said Mr. Minnoch, “I asked her why she had left her house

and her friends in such distress at her absence. She made no reply. I

requested her not to do so among so many people. I renewed my inquiry

afterwards at Rowaleyn. She said she felt distressed that her parents

should be so much annoyed at what she had done.” The suggestion on the

part of the prosecution was, that from conscious guilt she was fleeing

from justice—on the part of the prisoner, that she was fleeing from

the shame of an exposure of her love passages with L’Angelier. “But,”

said the learned judge, “my opinion is, that having made a statement

already about getting arsenic for the gardener to kill rats, and

knowing that if it had been discovered that he got no arsenic for such

a purpose, unpleasant consequences might follow, she wished to see

him, in order to make an arrangement by which that statement might be

borne out. The steamer in which she went only sailed from Helensburgh

to Gairloch and back, and therefore escape by it was nearly impossible;

and, in point of fact, he did not believe she had any intention of

attempting it.”

Previously, however, to this unexplained flight from home, she had been

visited by the French consul, a mutual friend of the lovers, to whose

searching questions in the presence of her mother she gave most decided

answers. As this witness’s evidence was greatly relied on by counsel

for the prisoner, it is reported in full.

_M. Auguste Vauvert de Meau_, the French Consul at Glasgow, who

had known L’Angelier for three years, was acquainted with the

prisoner’s family, and aware from L’Angelier’s own statements of the

correspondence between the lovers, gave the following evidence:—

“I remember L’Angelier coming to my office a few weeks before his

death and speaking about Miss Smith. I said she was to be married to

some gentleman, and when I mentioned the public rumour, he said it

was not true, but, if it was, he had documents in his possession that

would be sufficient to forbid the banns. I did not see her after that

time. I thought that, having been received by Mr. Smith in his house,

I was not at liberty to speak to him; but after L’Angelier’s death

I thought it was my duty to mention the fact of the correspondence

having been carried on between them, in order that he might take steps

to exonerate his daughter in case of anything coming out. In the

evening of the death of L’Angelier, I called on Mr. Smith and told him

that L’Angelier had in his possession a great number of letters from

his daughter, and that it was high time to let him know this, that

they might not fall into the hands of strangers, numbers of people

might go to his lodgings and read them. I went to Mr. Huggins’s office

(L’Angelier’s employer). He was not in, but I saw two gentlemen, and

told them what I had been told to ask (to get back the letters); but

they said that they could not give them up without Mr. Huggins’s

consent, and I then asked them to keep the letters sealed up till they

were disposed of. I think this was on the Tuesday after L’Angelier’s

death. Shortly after I saw Mr. Smith. In consequence of rumours I went

to his house and saw Miss Smith in the presence of her mother. I

apprised her of the death of L’Angelier. She asked me if it was of my

own will that I came to tell her; I told her it was not so, but at the

special request of her father. _I asked her if she had seen L’Angelier

on the Sunday night; she told me that she did not see him._ I asked

her to put me in a position to contradict the statements which were

being made as to her relation with L’Angelier, and asked her again if

she did not see him on Sunday evening or Sunday night, and she told

me she did not. I observed to her that L’Angelier had come from the

Bridge of Allan to Glasgow on a special appointment with her, by a

letter written to him. _She told me she was not aware that he was at

the Bridge of Allan before he came to Glasgow, and that she did not

give him an appointment for Sunday evening, as she wrote him on Friday

evening giving him an appointment for Saturday: she had expected him

on the Saturday, but he did not come, and she had not seen him on

Sunday._ I put the question to her five or six times in different

ways. I told her that my conviction was that she must have seen him on

Sunday, that he had come on purpose to Glasgow on a special invitation

by her to see her; and I did not think it likely, admitting that he

had committed suicide, that he had done so without knowing why she had

asked him to come to Glasgow.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“Did you know of this letter yourself?”

_Witness._—“I heard there was such a letter. I said to her that the

best advice that a friend could give to her under the circumstances

was to tell the truth about it, because the case was a very grave one,

and would lead to an inquiry on the part of the authorities, and that

if she did not say the truth in these circumstances, perhaps it would

be ascertained by a servant, or a policeman, or somebody passing the

house who had seen L’Angelier, that he had been in the house, and this

would cause a strong suspicion as to the motive that had led her to

conceal the truth. _Miss Smith then got up from her chair and said, ‘I

swear to you, Mr. Meau, that I have not seen L’Angelier not on that

Sunday only, but not for three weeks or six weeks,’ I am not sure

which._”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“And the mother was present?”

_Witness._—“Yes. I repeated this question five or six times, but her

answer was always the same. I asked her with regard to the letter

inviting L’Angelier to come and see her, how it was that, being

engaged to another gentleman, she could have carried on a clandestine

correspondence with a former sweetheart? she said it was to get back

her letters.”

_The Lord Advocate._—“Did you ask her whether she was in the habit of

meeting L’Angelier?”

_Witness._—“Yes. I asked her if it was true that L’Angelier was in

the habit of having appointments with her in her house; and _she

told me that he had never entered that house, meaning the Blythswood

Square house, as I understood_.[119] I asked her how, then, she had

her appointments to meet him? She told me that he used to come to a

street at the corner of the house (main street), that he had a signal

by knocking with his stick, and that she used to talk to him.”

_The Lord Advocate._—“Did she speak about her former correspondence

with him at all?”

_Witness._—“I asked her if it was true she had signed letters in his

name, and she said she had done so.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“Do you mean that she added his name to

hers?”

_Witness._—“I meant whether she signed her letters with L’Angelier’s

name, and she said ‘Yes.’ I did not ask her why.”

_Cross-examined by Mr. Young._—“I went to live at Helensburgh in

1845. M. L’Angelier visited me, and once he came on a Saturday to my

lodgings there, and on Sunday we went on the Luss Road. I went up to

my room, and L’Angelier not coming in for his dinner, I called for him

out of temper. I then found that he was ill, and was vomiting down

the staircase. He once complained to me of being bilious. This was a

year ago. He complained of once having the cholera. Last year he came

to my office and told me he had had a violent attack of cholera, but

I don’t know whether that was a year or two years ago. I think it was

a journey he was to have made that led him to speak of having had the

cholera. I don’t recollect whether he was unwell at that time. I know

that when he came to my house he always had a bottle of laudanum in

his bag, but I don’t know if he used it. I once heard him speak of

arsenic; it must have been in the winter of 1854. It was on a Sunday.

I don’t recollect how the conversation arose, but it lasted half an

hour. Its purport was how much arsenic a person could take without its

injuring him. He maintained that it was possible to do it, by taking

small quantities. I don’t know what led to the conversation, and

should be afraid to make any statement as to the purpose for which it

was to be taken. L’Angelier stated to me he had once been jilted by

an English lady, a rich person, and that on account of the deception

he was almost mad for a fortnight, and ran about, getting food from a

farmer in the country. He was easily excited: when he had any cause of

grief he was affected very much.”

_By the Lord Justice Clerk._—“After my marriage I had little

intercourse with L’Angelier. I thought that he might be led to take

some harsh steps with Miss Smith, and as I had some young ladies in my

house, I did not think it was proper to have the same intercourse with

him as when I was a bachelor.”

_The Lord Advocate._—“What do you mean by ‘harsh steps?’”

_Witness._—“I was afraid of an elopement. By ‘harsh’ I mean ‘rash.’

This was after L’Angelier had given me his full confidence as to what

he would do if her father did not consent to the marriage.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“ Did you understand that Miss Smith had

engaged herself to him?”

_Witness._—“I understood so from what he said.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“When you used the expression ‘you thought

it right to go to Mr. Smith about the letters, in order that he might

take steps to vindicate his daughter’s honour, or prevent it from

being disparaged,’ did you relate to him her engagement and apparent

breach of it? Had you in view that the letters might contain an

engagement which she was breaking, or that she had made a clandestine

engagement?”

_Witness._—“I thought that these letters were love letters, and that

it would be much better that they should be in Mr. Smith’s hands than

in those of strangers.”

_The Lord Advocate._—“ What were L’Angelier’s usual character and

habits?”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“Was he a steady fellow?”

_Witness._—“My opinion of L’Angelier’s character at the moment of

his death was, that he was a most regular young man in his conduct,

religious, and in fact most exemplary in all his conduct. The only

objection which I heard made to him was that he was vain and a

boaster—boasting of grand persons that he knew. For example, when

he spoke of Miss Smith, he would say, I shall forbid Madeline to do

such a thing, or such another thing—to dance with such a one or such

another.”

_The Lord Justice Cleric._—“Did he boast of any success with females?”

_Witness._—“Never.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“Did he seem jealous of Miss Smith paying

attention to others?”

_Witness._—“No; of others paying attention to her.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“It was not on account of any levity in his

character that you discouraged him visiting you after your marriage?”

_Witness._—“No. I thought his society might be fit for a bachelor,

but not for a married man.”

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“Do you understand the word ‘levity’?”

_Witness._—“Yes; lightness, irregularity. There had been a long

cessation of intercourse between us before his death. The photograph

(_shown him_) is a good likeness; he was between 28 and 30 years of

age. I think I got accidentally acquainted with him in a house in

Glasgow.”

At the close of the case for the prosecution the Lord Advocate proposed

to put in certain entries in a pocket book of L’Angelier’s to support

the first and second counts of the indictment, which, after argument,

was refused by the Court. (See Appendix C., p. 359.)

THE DEFENCE.

In accordance with practice of the Scotch Courts the counsel for the

prisoner had the last word; and good use did the Dean of Faculty

make of his privilege. The Lord Advocate’s policy had been to depict

the character of the prisoner in the vilest colours—as the seducer,

rather than the seduced, or, at any rate, for a long period the willing

accomplice in all his acts. The Dean dealt not less hardly with the

character of L’Angelier.

“We find him,” he said, “according to the confession of all those who

observed him narrowly, vain, conceited, pretentious, with a great

opinion of his own personal attractions, and a very silly expectation

of admiration from the other sex. That he was successful to a certain

extent in conciliating such admiration may be the fact; but, at

all events, his own prevailing ideas seem to have been that he was

calculated to be very successful in paying attention to ladies, and

that he was likely to push his fortune by such means. Accordingly,

once and again we find him engaged in attempts to get married to women

of some station at least in society. We heard of one disappointment

which he met with in England, and another we heard a great deal of

connected with a lady in Fife; and the manner in which he bore his

disappointments on those two occasions is perhaps the best indication

and light we have to the true character of the man. He was not a

person of strong health, and it is extremely probable that this, among

other things, had a depressing effect on his spirits, rendering him

changeable and uncertain—now uplifted, as one of the witnesses said,

and now most deeply depressed—of a mercurial temperament, as another

described it, very variable and never to be depended upon. Such was

the individual with whom the prisoner unfortunately became acquainted.

The progress of their acquaintance is soon told. My learned friend

the Lord Advocate said the correspondence must have been improper,

because it was clandestine: yet the letters of the young lady at

that first period breathe nothing but gentleness and propriety. The

correspondence in the commencement shows that if L’Angelier had in his

mind originally to corrupt and seduce the prisoner, he entered upon

the attempt with considerable ingenuity and skill; for the very first

letter of the series which we have contains a passage in which she

says, ‘I am trying to break myself of all my bad habits: it is you I

have to thank for this, which I do sincerely from my heart.’ He had

been suggesting to her improvement in conduct or something else. He

had thus been insinuating himself into her company. She had yielded,

no doubt, too easily to the pleasures of this new acquaintance, but

pleasures apparently of a most innocent kind at this period. Yet it

seems to have occurred to her mind at a very early period that it was

impossible to maintain this correspondence with propriety or her own

welfare; for so early as April 1855 she wrote him—‘I think you will

agree with me in what I intend proposing, that for the present this

correspondence had better stop. I know your good feeling will not take

this wrong. It was meant quite the reverse. By continuing it, harm

may arise, by discontinuing, nothing can be said.’ And from then to

September it did cease.”

Unfortunately the correspondence was renewed, discovered, and

stopped by her father until April, 1856, when it is re-opened by a

letter, of the 30th of that month, from Helensburgh, in which she

writes:—“P(papa) has not been in town a night for some time; but the

first night he is off I shall see you. We shall spend an hour of bliss.

There shall be no risk: only C. H. (Haggart) shall know.” This letter

was followed by that of the 3rd of May, inviting him on Tuesday, the

6th, to come to the garden gate, and adding, “Beloved of my soul, a

fond embrace, a dear kiss till we meet! We shall have more than one,

love, dearest.” Signed, “From thy ever devoted and loving wife, thine

for ever, MINI.”

“Alas,” said the Dean, “the next scene is the most painful of all.

In the spring of 1856, the corrupting influence of the seducer was

successful, and the prisoner fell. This is recorded in a letter

bearing the post-mark of the 7th of May, which you have heard read.

And how corrupting that influence must have been, how vile the acts

that he resorted to for accomplishing his nefarious purpose, can never

be proved so well as by looking at the altered tone and language of

the unhappy prisoner’s letters. She had lost not her virtue merely,

but, as the Lord Advocate said, her sense of decency. Think you

that without temptation, without evil teachings, a poor girl falls

into such depths of degradation? No. Influence from without—most

corrupting influence—can alone account for such a fact. And yet

through the midst of this frightful correspondence, there breathes

a spirit of devoted affection towards the man that had destroyed

her—that strikes me as most remarkable.”

Then, after alluding to the precautions with which she sought to

surround her interviews with L’Angelier at the Blythswood Square

house; to the evident proofs that an elopement was projected, and to

the strong probability that no interview took place without Haggart’s

connivance, and that, therefore, the interviews at this time must be

limited to the two spoken of by that witness, he urged that up to the

month of February, 1857, he was entitled to say, “without a shadow of

evidence to the contrary, that they were not in the habit of coming

into personal contact.”

“We now,” continued the Dean, “come to a very important stage of

the case. On the 28th of February Mr. Minnoch proposes, and if I

understand the theory of my learned friend’s case aright, from that

day the whole character of the girl’s mind and her feelings changed,

and she set herself to prepare for the perpetration of what he has

called one of the most foul, cool, deliberate murders that ever

was committed. I will not say that such a thing is impossible, but

I will venture to say it is very highly improbable. He will be a

bold man to fathom the depths of human depravity, but this at least

experience teaches us, that perfection even in depravity, is not

rapidly attained, and it is not by such short and easy stages as the

prosecutor has been able to trace in the career of Madeline Smith,

that a gentle loving girl passes all at once into the savage grandeur

of a Medea, or the appalling wickedness of a Borgia. Such a thing is

not possible. There is a certain progress in guilt, and it is quite

out of all human experience that, from the tone of the letters,

there should be a sudden transition—I will not say from affection

for a particular object—but to the strange desire for removing,

by any means, the obstruction to her wishes and purposes that the

prosecutor imputes to the prisoner. Think, in your own minds, how

foul and unnatural a murder it is—the murder of one who, within a

very short space, was the object of her love—an unworthy object—an

unholy object; but yet while it lasted—and its endurance was not

very brief—it was a deep, unselfish, absorbing, devoted passion.

And the object of that passion she now conceived the purpose of

murdering. Such is the theory that you are desired to believe. Now

before you will believe it, will you not ask for demonstration? Will

you be content with conjecture? Will you be content with suspicion,

however pregnant, or will you be so unreasonable as to put it to me

in this form, that the man having died of poison, the theory of the

prosecution is the most probable? Oh, gentlemen, is that the manner in

which a jury should treat such a case? Is that the kind of proof on

which they should convict on a capital offence?”

The Dean, then, took up _seriatim_ the three charges, examining the

evidence on each in detail, making on each the criticisms, already

reported in the previous summary of the evidence, showing how the first

charge had failed even in the opinion of the prosecutor: how doubtful,

to say the least, it was that the interview on which the second charge

was based had taken place, and the weakness of many of the proofs on

which the charge of murder was rested. Passing, then, to the suggestion

of suicide, he continued—

“I might stop here, for nothing could be more fallacious than the

suggestion of the Lord Advocate, that it was necessary to explain

how this man came by his death. His lordship will tell you that a

defendant has no further duty than to repel the charge and stand on

the defensive, and maintain that the case for the prosecution is not

proved. No man probably can tell at the present moment—I believe no

man on earth can tell—how L’Angelier met his death. Nor am I under

the slightest obligation even to suggest to you a possible manner in

which that death may have been compassed without the intervention of

the prisoner. Yet it is but fair, when we are dealing with so many

matters of conjecture and suspicion, that we should, for a moment,

consider whether that supposition on which the charge is founded is

preferable in itself, in respect to its higher probabilities, to other

suppositions which may be fairly made. The character of this man,

his origin, his early history, the nature of his conversation, the

numerous occasions on which he spoke of suicide, naturally suggest

that as one mode by which he may have departed this life. Understand

me, I am not undertaking to prove that he died by his own hand—but

I think there is more to be said for suicide than for the prisoner’s

guilt. But I entreat you to remember that that is no necessary part of

my defence. But of course I should be using you very ill—should be

doing less than my duty to the prisoner—if I had not brought before

you the whole of that evidence which suggests the extreme probability

of that man dying by his own hand at one time or other. From the very

first time at which we see him, even as a lad, in the year 1843,

he talks in a manner to impress people with the notion that he had

no moral principle to guide him. He speaks over and over again of

suicide at Edinburgh, Dundee, and elsewhere—ay, the prisoners letters

shew that he had made the same threat to her[120]—that he would put

himself out of existence. And is it half as violent a supposition

as the supposition of this foul murder, that upon this evening—the

22nd of March—a fit of that kind of madness which he himself

described, came over him, when he met with disappointment—finding,

it may be, that he could not procure access to an interview which he

desired—assuming that he came to Glasgow for that purpose—assuming

even that he mistook the evening of the meeting, and expected to see

her on the Sunday—can anything be more probable than that, in the

excited state in which he then was, he should have committed the rash

act which put an end to his existence.”[121]

Again, in answer to the motive imputed by the prosecution; re-reading

the letter of the 10th of February, in which on her bended knees Miss

Smith besought him, “as he hoped for mercy at the judgment, not to

inform on her—not to expose her;” asked him “to pardon her if he

could; to pray for her as the most wretched, guilty, miserable creature

on the earth;” told him “she could stand anything but her father’s hot

temper;” when she wrote, “Emile, you will not cause my death. If he is

to get your letters, I cannot see him any more; and my poor mother, I

will never kiss her. It would be a shame to them all. Emile, will you

not spare me? Hate me, despise me, but do not expose me.” The Dean

said—

“Is that the language of deceit? Is that the mind of a murderess, or

can any one affect that frame of mind? Can you for one moment listen

to the suggestion that that letter covers a piece of deceit? No, no.

The finest actress could not have written that to him, unless she

had felt it; and is that the condition in which a woman goes about

to compass the death of him whom she has loved? Is that the frame

of mind?—shame for past sins, burning shame, dread of exposure,

grief at the injury she had done her parents? Is that the frame of

mind that would lead a woman—not to advance another step on the

road to destruction, but to plunge at once into the depths of human

wickedness? The thing is preposterous, and yet it is because of her

despair, as my learned friend called it, exhibited in that and similar

letters, that he says she had a motive to destroy this man. What does

that mean? It may mean, in a certain improper sense of the term,

that it would have been of advantage to her that he should cease to

live. That is not a motive in any proper sense of the term. If some

advantage resulting from the death of another be a motive to the

commission of murder, a man’s eldest son must always have a motive

to murder him that he may succeed to his estate; and I suppose the

youngest officer in any regiment of Her Majesty’s army has a motive to

murder all the officers in his regiment—the younger he is, and the

further he has to ascend the scale, the more murders he has a motive

to commit. Away with such nonsense! A motive to commit a crime must be

something a great deal more than the mere fact that the result of that

crime might be advantageous to the person committing it. You must see

the motive in action—you must see it influencing the conduct—before

you can deal with it as a motive; for this, and this only, is it a

motive in the proper sense of the term—that is to say, it is moving

to the perpetration of the deed. But let me ask you what possible

motive there could be, even in the most improper and illegitimate

sense of the term—I mean what possible advantage could she expect

from L’Angelier’s death so long as the letters remained? Without the

return of her letters she gained nothing. Her object, her greatest

desire, that for which she was yearning with her whole soul, was to

prevent the exposure of her shame. But the death of L’Angelier, with

those letters in his possession, instead of insuring that object,

would have been perfectly certain to lead to the immediate exposure of

everything that passed between them. Shall I be told that she did not

foresee that? I think my learned friend had been giving the prisoner

credit for too much talent in the course of his observations on her

conduct. But I should conceive her to be infinitely stupid if she

could not foresee that the death of L’Angelier, with those documents

in his possession, was the true and best means of frustrating the

then great object of her life. Shall I be told that the motive

might be revenge? Listen to the letter, Tell me if it is possible

that in the same breast with these sentiments, there should link

one feeling of revenge! No; the condition of mind in which the poor

girl was throughout the months of February and March, is entirely

inconsistent with any of the hypotheses that have been made on the

other side—utterly incredible and wholly irreconcileable with the

perpetration of such a crime as is here laid to her charge.”[122]

Passing on, then, to the incident of her sudden flight from her home,

when she heard of L’Angelier’s death, the Dean repudiated the notion

that she was absconding from justice. She had left Glasgow early in the

morning, and at half-past three in the afternoon was found on board

a steamer going from Greenock to Helensburgh. Any one going by rail

could easily have overtaken her.

“If her flight means anything,” he said, “it means flying from

what she could not bear—the wrath of her father, and the averted

countenance of her mother. But she came back again without the

slightest hesitation, and upon the Monday morning there occurred

a scene as remarkable in the history of criminal jurisprudence as

anything I ever heard of, by which that broken spirit was altogether

changed. The moment she was met by a charge of being implicated in

causing the death of L’Angelier, she at once assumed the courage of a

heroine. She was bowed down, and she had fled, while the true charge

of her unchastity and shame was all that was brought against her;

but she stood erect and proudly conscious of her innocence when she

was met with this astounding charge of murder. You heard the account

that M. de Meau gave of that interview with her in her father’s

house on the Monday. That was a most striking statement, and given

with a truthfulness obviously that could not be surpassed. What was

the import of that conversation? He advised her, as a friend, if

L’Angelier was with her on that Sunday night, for God’s sake not to

deny it. And why? Because, he said, it is certain to be proved. A

servant, a policeman, a casual passenger, is certain to know the fact,

and if you falsely deny it, what a fact that will be against you. What

was the answer? In answer to five or six suggestions of M. de Meau,

she said at length that she would swear that she had not seen him for

three weeks. If she did not see him on the Sunday that was true.”

On the purchases of arsenic, the Dean called the attention of the

jury to the improbability of her having purchased it at the time when

she was urging L’Angelier not to go to the Bridge of Allan whilst she

was there with her family, and to her throwing it away on the 17th of

March, and then buying more on the 18th;—“throwing it away, it was

said, when just coming within reach of her victim, and then buying

more, with circumstances of openness and publicity inconsistent with

the hypothesis of any legitimate object? Why expose herself to the

necessity of a repeated purchase, when she had got enough to poison

twenty or a hundred men.”

“But,” continued the Dean, “the possession of this arsenic is said

to be unaccounted for, as far as the prisoner is concerned. It might

be so; it may be so; and yet that would not make out the case for

the prosecution. She says she used it as a cosmetic. This might be

startling at first sight to many of us here, but after the evidence

you have heard it will not amaze you. At school her story, which has

so far been borne out by evidence, shows that she read of the Styrian

peasants using it for strengthening their wind, improving their

complexions. No doubt they used it internally, and not externally as

she did, but in the imperfect state of her knowledge that was a fact

of no significance. L’Angelier, too, was well aware of the same fact.

He stated to more than one witness—and if he stated falsely, it is

only one of a multitude of lies proved against him—that he used

it himself. It is not surprising if L’Angelier knew of this custom

that he should have communicated it to the prisoner, and that she

should have used it externally, for an internal use is apparently a

greater danger, which may have suggested to her to try it externally,

and there is no reason to suppose, that if used as she used it, it

would produce any injurious effects. No doubt we have medical men

coming here and shaking their heads and looking wise, and saying

that such a use of arsenic would be a dangerous procedure. That is

not the question. The question is whether the prisoner could use it

without injurious effects, and that she could do so is proved by

the experiments of Dr. Laurie and Dr. Maclagan. The publication in

_Chambers’s_, _Blackwood’s Magazine_, and _Johnston’s_ “_Chemistry of

Common Life_,” of information on the uses of arsenic, had reached not

the prisoner alone, but a multitude of other ladies, and had incited

them to the same kind of experiments. The two druggists—_Robertson_

and _Guthrie_—spoke to the fact of ladies having come to their

shops seeking arsenic for such purposes on the suggestion of these

publications. It cannot, therefore, be surprising to you to learn that

when the prisoner bought this arsenic, she intended to use it, and did

actually, afterwards, use it for this purpose.”[123]

Then, citing the behaviour of Eliza Fenning, in the well-known

disputed, and even now disputed case, as a parallel instance of

such behaviour as the prisoner showed when taxed with the charge of

murder:[124] repudiating the doctrine that juries have nothing to

do with the consequences of their verdict, and that all questions

of evidence must be weighed in the same scale, whether the crime be

capital, or a mere case of pocket picking, and appealing to the jury

not to raise their rash and imprudent hands to tear away the veil

Providence has been pleased to place over this mystery, the Dean closed

his most effective speech.

THE JUDGE’S CHARGE.

The most material comments of the Lord Justice Clerk have been already

so fully quoted as notes to the several portions of the evidence, or

to the points made by the counsel for the defence, that it will now

suffice to give his concluding summary of the case.

“The first charge is that she administered arsenic on the 19th or 20th

of February. Probably you may come to the conclusion, on the evidence

of Miss Perry and others, that he did see her on that occasion; but

she was not proved to have had arsenic or any other poison in her

possession; and what I attach very great importance to is, that there

is no medical testimony, by analysis of the matter vomited, that that

illness did proceed from the administration of arsenic. If the doctor

had examined the vomit and proved that there was arsenic there, I am

afraid the case would have been very strong against her as having

given him coffee or something before his illness on that occasion.

But it is not proved that that illness arose from the administration

of poison. Arsenic she had not, and there is no proof of her having

possessed anything deleterious. Therefore I have no hesitation in

telling you that charge has failed.

“The second charge stands in a somewhat different position in regard

to the evidence, although in one respect it is similar to the first,

for it is not proved that the illness arose from the administration

of arsenic or any other poisonous substance. But then the way in

which you can connect the prisoner with a meeting on that occasion is

much stronger. Still if you should think you can acquit her of the

first charge, and that there is too much doubt to prove the second

proven, then you will observe how much this weakens the case that has

been raised by the prosecution on the motives for revenge, on the

change in the tone of the letters, and the desire to allure him again

to her embraces and fascinations, which could not be accounted for

except on the supposition of some such murderous design. In that view

undoubtedly the foundation of the case is very much shaken, and will

not lead you to suppose that the purpose of murder was cherished on

the 22nd.

“Then as to the charge for murder, the question for you to consider

is a simple one. No matter how the prisoner is surrounded with grave

suspicions, and with many circumstances that seem to militate against

the notion of innocence upon any theory that has been propounded,

still are you prepared to say that the interview of the 22nd March

has been proved against her? She had arsenic before the illness of

22nd February, and I think you will consider the excuse of using

arsenic as a cosmetic of the same stamp as those which she stated to

the druggists. She bought arsenic again on the 6th of March, and it

certainly is a very odd thing that she should buy more arsenic when

she came back on the 18th. Because unless you are to take the account

to be sure, that she used it as a cosmetic, she has it before the

22nd, and that is a dreadful fact if you are quite satisfied that she

did not get it and use it for the purpose of washing her hands and

face. It may create the greatest reluctance in your mind to take any

other view of the matter than that she was guilty of administering it

somehow, though the place where may not be made out, or the precise

time of the interview. But on the other hand you must keep in view,

that arsenic could only be administered by her if an interview took

place with L’Angelier, and that interview, though it may be the result

of an inference that may satisfy you morally that it did take place,

still rests upon an inference alone, and that inference is to be the

ground, and must be the ground, on which a verdict of guilty is to

rest. You will see, therefore, the necessity of great caution and

jealousy in dealing with any inference which you may draw from this.

Probably none of you may think for a moment that he did go out that

night, and that without seeing her, and without knowing what she

wanted to see him about, if they met, he may have swallowed 200 grains

of arsenic on the street, and may have carried it about. On the other

hand, if he did not commit suicide, keep in view that that will not

of itself establish that the prisoner administered the arsenic. The

matter may have remained most mysterious—wholly unexplained. You may

not be able to account for it on any other supposition, but still that

supposition or inference may not be a ground on which you can safely

and satisfactorily rest your verdict against the prisoner.

“Now then I leave you to consider the case with reference to the

views that are raised by this correspondence. I do not think you will

consider it so unlikely as was supposed that this girl, after writing

such letters, may have been capable of cherishing such a purpose.

But still, though you may take such a view of her character, it is

but a supposition that she cherished this murderous purpose—the

last conclusion that you ought to come to merely on supposition

and inference and observation on this wavering correspondence of a

girl in the circumstances in which she was placed. It receives more

importance, no doubt, when you find the purchase of arsenic just

before she expected, or just at the time that she expected L’Angelier.

But still these are but suppositions. Now the great and invaluable

use of a jury after they direct their attention seriously to the case

with the attention you have done, is to separate firmly—firmly and

clearly in your own minds—suspicions from evidence. I don’t say that

inferences may not be completely drawn, but I have already warned

you about inferences in the ordinary matters of civil life, and in

such a case as this.[125] If you cannot say, ‘We satisfactorily find

here evidence of the meeting, and that the poison must have been

administered by her at that meeting,’ whatever may be your suspicion,

however perplexing may be the probability against her, and however

you may have to struggle to get rid of it, you perform your best

and bounden duty as a jury to separate suspicion from truth, and to

proceed upon nothing that you do not feel established in evidence

against her.”

After retiring for half an hour, the jury by a majority in each charge

found the prisoner _Not Guilty_ on the first, and a verdict of _Not

Proven_ on the second and third charges, in which findings the Lord

Justice Clerk expressed his entire concurrence.

* * * * *

APPENDIX A., _p._ 307.

POST-MORTEM EXAMINATIONS.

EVIDENCE OF DR. HUGH THOMSON, M.D.

“At the request of Messrs. W. B. Huggins & Co., of this city, we, the

undersigned, made a _post-mortem_ examination of the body of the late

M. L’Angelier, when the appearances were as follows:—The body, viewed

externally, presented nothing remarkable, except a tawny hue on the

surface. The incision made on opening the belly and chest revealed a

considerable deposit of subcutaneous fat. The heart appeared large

for the individual, but not so large as, in our opinion, to amount to

disease. Its surface presented, externally, some opaque patches, such

as are frequently seen on the organ without giving rise to symptoms.

Its right cavities were filled with dark fluid blood. The lungs, the

liver, and the spleen appeared quite healthy. The gall-bladder was

moderately full of bile, and contained no calculi. The stomach and the

intestines, externally, presented nothing abnormal. Being tied at both

ends, it was removed from the body. Its contents, consisting of about

half a pint of dark fluid resembling coffee, were poured into a clean

bottle, and the organ itself was laid open along its great curvature.

The mucous membrane, except for a slight extent of the lesser

curvature, was then seen to be deeply injected with blood, presenting

an appearance of dark red mottling, and its substance was remarked to

be salt (soft?), and easily torn by scratching with the finger-nail.

The other organs of the abdomen were not examined. The appearance

of the mucous membrane, taken in connection with the history as

related to us by witnesses, being such as, in our opinion, justified

a suspicion of death having resulted from poison, we considered it

proper to preserve the stomach and its contents in a sealed bottle for

further investigation by chemical analysis, should such be determined

on. We, however, do not imply that, in our opinion, death may not

have resulted from natural causes, as, for example, severe internal

congestion, the effect of exposure to cold after much bodily fatigue,

which we understand the deceased to have undergone. Having no legal

authority for making this _post-mortem_ examination, we restrict it to

the organs where we thought likely to find something to account for

the death.

“_28th March, 1857_, on soul and conscience,

“HUGH THOMSON,

“JAMES STEVEN.”

_SECOND_ POST-MORTEM OF THE EXHUMED BODY,

_April 3, 1857._

“By virtue of a warrant from the sheriff of Lanarkshire, we, the

undersigned, proceeded to the _post-mortem_ examination of the body

of M. L’Angelier within the vault of the Ramshorn church on the 31st

of March ultimo, in the presence of two friends of the deceased. The

body being removed from the coffin, two of our number, Drs. Thomson

and Steven, who examined the body on the 24th ultimo, remarked that

the features had lost their former pinched appearance, and that

the general surface of the skin, instead of the tawny or dingy hue

observed by them on that occasion, had become rather florid. We two

likewise remarked that, with the exception of the upper surface of

the liver, which had assumed a purplish colour, all the internal

parts were little changed in appearance; and we all agreed that the

evidences of putrefaction were much less marked than they usually are

at such a date—the ninth day after death, and the fifth after burial.

The duodenum, along with the upper part of the small intestine, after

both ends of the gut had been secured by ligatures, was removed and

placed in a clean jar. A portion of the large intestine, consisting

of part of the descending colon and the sigmoid flexure, along with

a portion of the rectum, after using the like precaution of placing

ligatures at both ends of the bowel, was removed and placed in the

same jar with the duodenum, and a portion of the small intestine. A

portion of the liver, about a one-sixth part of that organ, was cut

off and placed in a clean jar. We then proceeded to open the head

in the usual manner, and observed nothing calling for remark beyond

a greater degree of vascularity of the membranes of the brain than

ordinary. A portion of the brain was removed and placed in a fourth

clean jar. We then adjourned to Dr. Penny’s rooms, taking with us

the vessels containing the parts of the viscera above mentioned. The

duodenum and portion of small intestine were found together to measure

thirty-six inches in length. Their contents poured into a clean glass

measure were found to amount to four fluid ounces, and consisted of

a turbid, sanguinolent fluid, having suspended in it much flocculent

matter, which settled towards the bottom, whilst a few mucus-like

masses floated on the surface. The mucous membrane of this part of

the bowels was then examined. The colour was decidedly redder than

natural, and this redness was more marked over several patches,

portions of which, when carefully examined, were found to be eroded.

Several small whitish and somewhat gritty particles were removed

from its surface, and being placed on a clean piece of glass, were

delivered to Dr. Penny. A few small ulcers, about the one-sixteenth of

an inch in diameter, and having elevated edges, were observed on it,

at the upper part of the duodenum. On account of the failing light,

it was determined to adjourn till a quarter past eleven next day—all

the jars, &c., being left in the custody of Dr. Penny. Having again

met at the appointed time, we proceeded to complete our examination.

The portion of the largest intestine, along with the portion of the

rectum, measuring twenty-six inches in length, being laid open, was

found empty. Its mucous membrane, coated with an abundant, pale,

slimy mucus, presented nothing abnormal, except on the part lining

the rectum, on which were observed two vascular patches, about the

size of a shilling. On decanting the contents of the glass measure,

we observed a number of crystals adhering to its interior, and at the

bottom a notable quantity of whitish sedimentary matter. Having now

completed our examination of the various parts, we finally handed them

all to Dr. Penny.

“The above we attest on soul and conscience,

“H. THOMSON.

“J. STEVEN.”

APPENDIX B., _p._ 319.

ON THE QUANTITY OF POISON FOUND IN THE STOMACH OF A PERSON MURDERED BY

ARSENIC.

EXTRACT FROM LETTER FROM PROFESSOR CHRISTISON TO THE _Edinburgh Medical

Journal_, DECEMBER, 1857.

“The purpose of the present brief communication is to state a case

which annihilates the defence of the prisoner, so far as the large

quantity of arsenic found in the stomach of the deceased may have been

thought to support it.

“Dr. Mackinlay, of Paisley, very lately reminded me of a case of

poisoning with arsenic, in which we were both concerned in 1842.

A person came under a charge of poisoning with arsenic, and was

indicted. But, on account of some informality, this indictment fell to

the ground, and the trial was necessarily delayed. Meanwhile, during

the delay, the general evidence was thought defective, and the trial

was dropped. There could be no doubt, however, that murder had been

committed. The arsenic was administered in whisky-punch with sugar,

the arsenic being kept in suspension by constant stirring. The person

survived at least five, possibly seven, hours, and frequently vomited

a yellowish or greenish liquid. Nevertheless, I found a little spirit

in the contents of the stomach; and I collected thirty grains of

arsenic in substance from the stomach and its contents.

“Drs. Mackinlay and Wylie, of Paisley, who examined the dead body, and

also discovered arsenic in the stomach, had scraped off a quantity of

the powder of this substance from the inside upon a watch-glass. I was

not made aware at the time how much had been thus obtained; but Dr.

Mackinlay now informs me that the quantity was sixty grains. Here,

then, is a case exactly like that of L’Angelier. Ninety grains of

arsenic, and this in substance, were found within the stomach alone.

If to this be added, as in Dr. Penny’s analysis in L’Angelier’s case,

the probable arsenic dissolved and suspended in the contents of the

stomach, and that imbibed by the textures of the stomach itself, it is

impossible to estimate the total quantity in the stomach at less than

100 grains. But there was also arsenic in the intestines; and, indeed,

it had actually caused purging.

“How large a quantity, then, must have been given in that instance!

How strangely easy is it for a determined designing murderer to

administer secretly those large quantities of a substance, whose

weight should render it difficult to be mixed, and whose roughness

should betray its presence when abundant! How difficult for the

stomach to discharge it by vomiting. I draw no conclusion as to the

question of Madeline Smith’s innocence or guilt. In common with the

public at large, I am well satisfied that she escaped condemnation.

But, as I have been supplied, through the kindness of Dr. Mackinlay,

with the means of completing a fact, closely touching a ground of

defence, which, at the time it was brought forward, I regarded as

hypothetical and baseless, and which may be made much of again, were

it allowed to stand, as it has hitherto done, I have thought it my

duty to make the true state of the question known.”

* * * * *

APPENDIX C., _p._ 342.

L’ANGELIER’S DIARY.

At the close of the fifth day, after putting in the bulk of the

letters, the Lord Advocate proposed to read entries in L’Angelier’s

pocket-book from the 16th of February to the 14th of March, 1857, in

support of the first and second charges. They were undoubtedly in his

own handwriting, and statements of what he did on those days. It was

objected that the book was not regularly kept, that the corroborative

evidence was not sufficient, and that two of the entries were

contradicted by witnesses who had been examined. The Court took time

to consider, and on the next morning delivered the following judgments.

_The Lord Justice Clerk._—“The admission of hearsay evidence was an

established rule in the law of Scotland, but under those restrictions

and conditions, which went in many circumstances to its entire

rejection. What was now proposed to be admitted was this—certain

memoranda or jottings made by the deceased, in which certain things

were said to be contained, which went directly to the vital part of

this charge. The Dean of Faculty felt so strongly that he did not

scruple to state what the purport of one of these was, in order to

show the immense materiality of the point. It was certainly most

important for the Court to take care that the rules of evidence were

not relaxed merely because it appeared that the matter tendered was

of the highest importance to the case. Before evidence could be

received and allowed to go to a jury, it must be shown that such

evidence was legally competent to be tendered against the prisoner.

That was the rule also in civil cases. It was of vital importance in

considering whether this evidence was admissible, to ascertain in

what circumstances, and, if possible, from what motive, and at what

periods these entries were made. Now it was a most remarkable fact

that there was no entry regarding the prisoner, or the circumstances

connected with her, before the 14th of February; and at that very time

the purpose on her part of breaking off the engagement with him and

of demanding her letters back had been communicated to the deceased;

and his purpose and resolution not to give up the letters and to keep

her to her engagement were avowed and made known, as it appeared

from evidence prior to that date. Then he had a purpose in writing

these memoranda—a purpose obviously to strengthen his hold over the

prisoner, not only by refusing to give up the letters at that time

and afterwards, but probably with the view to hold out that he had a

diary as to their interviews and communications, so as to endeavour to

effect his object of preventing the marriage, and of terrifying her

into giving up her engagement with Mr. Minnoch. He (the Lord Justice

Clerk) made this observation not merely with regard to the weight and

credibility of these entries, but with regard to their admissibility;

because in the case of hearsay evidence one could ascertain from the

witnesses the time the statement was made, all the circumstances and

all the apparent motives which could be collected as to the statement

being made by the deceased. But when we could not know with certainty

the motive with which the man made the entry, or, perhaps, as in this

case, could perceive reasons why he made the entry as against her,

intending to prejudice her in one way, not of course with reference to

such a trial as this, but with reference to her engagement, he thought

it could not be said that this came before the Court as a statement

recorded by him as to indifferent matters, or as to matters in which

he might have not had a strong purpose in making the statement.

Further, it might be a record of a past act. He felt the force of what

the Lord Advocate had said, that supposing in this book there had been

an entry that this man purchased arsenic, would not that have been

available in favour of the prisoner. An illustration of this point had

been suggested to him by a person whose authority and experience were

of the very highest. Take an action of divorce against the wife where

the paramour was dead; would an entry in any diary of his that he had

enjoyed the embraces of this woman on such a night in the absence

of her husband be proof against the wife? He thought not. What was

proposed in this case was to tender in evidence a thing altogether

unprecedented, according to the research of the Bar and the Bench, of

which no trace or indication occurred in any book whatever, viz., that

a memorandum made by the deceased should be proof of the fact against

the panel in a charge of murder. He was unable to admit such evidence;

it might relax the sacred rules of evidence to an extent that the mind

could hardly contemplate. One could not tell how many documents might

exist and be found in the repositories of deceased persons; a man

might have threatened another, he might have hatred against him, and

be determined to revenge himself, and what entries might he not make

in a diary for this purpose? He had a faint recollection of a case

in 1808—the trial of a man Patch for murdering Page, or of Page for

murdering Patch—in which some letter of the murdered man, prior to

his death, was used; but he had been unable to find the case, and he

had no notion if it was of the character he had alluded to. However,

in the meantime, as the point was perfectly new, and as it would be

a departure from what he considered to be an important principle in

the administration of justice, he thought this evidence could not be

received.”

_Lord Handyside._—“The special point is, whether the entries of

certain dates—two in number—are to be read and made evidence for

the prosecution, as regards the first and second charges in the

indictment. The whole of these entries have been written with a lead

pencil. I notice this to make the observation that ink and penmanship

afford to a certain degree a means of ascertaining whether entries

are made _de die in diem_, thus having the character of entries

made daily; or, on the contrary, of several entries having the

appearance, by change of ink or of pen, of being made at one time,

and so after recollection. Where all the entries are in pencil, there

can be no security as to the time when the entries are, in point

of fact, inserted, and that they are not _ex post facto_; or that

the original entries have been expunged, and others substituted in

their place—whether this be a correction of memory, or with purpose

and design of another character. The party making such entries in

pencil has entire power over what he has done or chooses to do.”

Then alluding to the fact that no authority for such evidence could

be found, which entitled the objector to the evidence to throw on

the tenderer the burden of showing that it ought to be received,

the learned judge continued—“I think the question one of great

difficulty—at least I have found it so. Had the writer of the

memorandum been living, they could not have been made evidence—of

themselves they were nothing. They might have been used in the

witness-box to refresh the memory, but the evidence would still be

parole. What would be regarded would be the oath of the witness to the

facts, time and person; and if distinct and explicit, though resting

on memory alone, the law of evidence would be satisfied, irrespective

of any aid by memorandums and letters, though made at the same time.

It is the oath of the witness to the verity of his oral statement in

the box which the law requires and regards. But if the writer has

died, is this circumstance to make such memorandums thenceforward

admissible as evidence by their own weight? Are they, the handwriting

being proved, to be treated as written evidence? That would be a bold

proposition. Death cannot change the character originally impressed

on the memorandums, and convert them from inadmissible to admissible

writings. They are private memorandums, seen by no eye but the writers

as such, subject to no check upon the accuracy of their statements,

whether arising from innocent mistakes or from prejudice or passing

feeling. I do not say that they are to be supposed false and

dishonest, for the idea is repugnant, from the consideration that it

would be idle to falsify and invent when memorandums are intended to

be kept secret by the writer. But it is quite conceivable that vanity

might lead to statements being made wholly imaginary, with a view of

the subsequent exhibition of the book, and were its admissibility

as evidence set up by death, it might become a fearful instrument

of calumny and accusation. I speak just now of private memorandums,

diaries, and journals, taken in the abstract. As to other writings of

a deceased person, such as letters, I do not say these may not become

admissible as evidence by reason of death, though during life they

could not be used. They thus become analogous to words spoken—to

representations made and conversations held—by a deceased person, the

proper object of hearsay evidence. It was contended that the principle

on which hearsay evidence is admitted would extend to anything written

by a deceased person. It is assumed to be a declaration in writing

of what if spoken would have been admissible on the testimony of

the person hearing it. And on the first view it would seem that the

written mode is superior to the oral, from the greater certainty that

no mistake is committed as to the words used. But this would be a

fallacious ground to rest on, for words written would require to be

taken without explanation or modification; whereas words spoken to

another are subject to the further inquiry by the party addressed as

to the meaning of the speaker in order to a better and more thorough

understanding of the subject of communication, the object of making

it, and the grounds on which the speaker’s statements rest. And all

these things may be fought out in the examination of the witness who

comes into court to give this hearsay evidence. The value of hearsay

evidence, and the weight to be given to it, come thus to depend much

on the account which the witness gives of the circumstances under

which the communication was made to him, as to the seriousness of

the statement and what followed upon it in the way of inquiry and

reply. Now a mere writing in the way of a memorandum or entry in a

book in the sole custody of the writer till his death can be subject

to no such tests. Its very nature shows that it is not intended for

communication. It may be an idle, purposeless piece of writing, or

it may be a record of unfounded suspicions and malicious charges,

treasured up by hostile and malignant feelings in a moody, spiteful

mind. These views impress me strongly with the danger of admitting a

private journal or diary as evidence to support a criminal charge. I

think the question now before us must be decided as a general point.

As such I take it up. If I were to confine myself to the special and

peculiar circumstances of this case, I should see much perhaps to

vindicate the court in the reception of the evidence tendered. There

is to be found in the letters which have already been made evidence

much to give corroboration or verification to some at least of the

entries in the pocket-book. But I feel compelled to close my mind

against such considerations, and to look above all to a general and,

therefore, safe rule by which to be guided. I have come, therefore, to

be of the opinion that the production tendered as evidence in the case

in support, as I take it, of the first and second charge, ought to be

rejected.”

_Lord Ivory_ said the opinions just delivered had relieved his mind

of a burden of responsibility under which he laboured, and which he

was ill able to bear. He had given the most anxious, serious, and

repeated consideration to this matter. He had found little or nothing

in the way of authority, and no dicta so precisely bearing on the

case as to be of any avail. But judging in the abstract, applying the

rules as applied to other cases, endeavouring to find a principle by

comparison of the different classes and categories in which evidence

had been distributed and in which it had been received, he felt

himself totally unable to come to a conclusion that the evidence of

this document should be excluded from the jury. As his opinion could

not in the least degree influence the judgment, he should be sorry

to add anything that would even seem to be intended to detract from

the authority of the judgment now given; least of all should he be

disposed to follow such a course in a capital case, where the judgment

was in favour of the prisoner. He would content himself, therefore,

with simply expressing his opinion. It appeared to him that this

document should have been admitted _valeat quantum_, and that the jury

should have considered its weight, and credibility, and value.

TRIAL OF ANN MERRITT.

_Before_ THE LORD CHIEF BARON POLLOCK _and_ MR. JUSTICE CRESSWELL, _at

the_ CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT, _March 8, 1850_.

_For the Prosecution_: Mr. Bodkin _and_ Mr. Clark.

_For the Defence_: Mr. Clarkson, _by the intervention of the Sheriffs

of London and Middlesex_.

_Ann Merritt_ was indicted for the murder of her husband, James, by

poison, at Clapton, on the 25th of January.

Merritt, who was a turncock in the employ of the East London

Waterworks, had been at work in his usual health, with the exception

of a slight cold, on Wednesday, the 23rd of January. When, however, a

fellow-workman called upon him about nine the next morning, he was told

by the prisoner that her husband was sick in the yard, and in a minute

or two afterwards Merritt came in and told his comrade that he had been

drinking some broth and a cup of hot tea upon it, and expected that

it had turned his stomach. They started off to work, and on the way

Merritt complained of being very thirsty, and went into a public-house

and had some rum-and-water before they separated for their respective

jobs. He seems, however, to have soon returned home unwell, as between

ten and eleven a neighbour (Mrs. Gillett), who lived next door, who

had been previously called in by eight o’clock in the morning, saw

the deceased in his house very ill, and the prisoner emptying some

thick gruel into a basin from a saucepan, and pouring water on it. The

gruel had been made from oatmeal fetched from a corn-chandler’s by the

witness’s son, at the prisoner’s request, who had given as a reason

for making it that her husband had returned so very thirsty. This

gruel the deceased was seen eating at a quarter past eleven, and very

soon after vomiting. However, at one o’clock, Merritt went out again

to work with his comrade, but soon after felt so sick and ill that he

asked his friend to do his work for him, and returned home. When his

friend returned to Merritt’s house with his tools, between five and six

in the evening, the prisoner told him to go upstairs and see “Jem,” as

he was very ill, and wanted to see him. This witness went up to the

deceased’s bedroom, followed by the prisoner, and found Merritt in bed

complaining of being very sick, feeling cramp in his limbs; at which

the deceased said, “he did not wonder, as what with the weather and the

work they had to do, it was enough to kill a horse.” No more was seen

of the parties until half-past nine at night, when Mrs. Gillett was

again called in by the prisoner, and found the husband in bed retching

violently, and complaining of a burning pain in his chest and stomach.

Between ten and eleven Mr. Toulmin, the doctor, was called in, and at

half-past twelve the husband died.[126]

MEDICAL AND ANALYTICAL EVIDENCE.

_Mr. Toulmin_, a general practitioner at Clapton, was first examined.

He was called in between ten and eleven on the Thursday night, and

found the deceased in bed sick, complaining greatly of pain in his

stomach and cramps in his legs, his pulse very weak, and his skin below

the natural temperature; he prescribed for him, and left. Subsequently

he made a _post-mortem_ examination of the body on the 28th, by the

coroner’s order, with the assistance of Mr. Welch, a neighbouring

surgeon, to which the prisoner at first objected. When the stomach

was opened, it contained a _thickish matter slightly pink_, which was

poured into a stoppered bottle and sent with the stomach to Dr. Letheby

for analysis. On its coats there were red spots, such as are observed

in persons who have died of irritant poison.

_Dr. Henry Letheby_, professor of chemistry at the London Hospital,

to whom the stomach and its contents had been forwarded, gave the

following evidence, which, in consequence of the dispute which

subsequently arose on his statement as to the time at which the fatal

dose was taken, is given in full:—

“I first experimented,” said the witness, “on the contents of the

bottle (the fluid found in the stomach), and detected 8½ grains of

white arsenic. By one course of experiments I reproduced the arsenic

in a metallic form—it is in this tube (produced). The earthen jar

contained part of a human stomach. I noticed a peculiar appearance

in it, which I have noticed in cases of poisoning by arsenic—_there

was a small portion of whitish powder adhering to the lining of the

stomach_, too small a quantity to enable me to ascertain what it

consisted of. I then examined the intestines that were in the jar;

I subjected them to a chemical analysis, and the result was the

detection of a very small quantity of arsenic. There was also in the

jar a part of a human liver. I subjected about a quarter of a pound

of it to experiment, and obtained a quantity of metallic arsenic

(produced); _it was too minute a quantity to weigh_. That in the

stomach was the only quantity I weighed; that would be sufficient

to cause death. I had the opportunity of witnessing a case where 2½

grains killed; the general quantity would be 8 grains; I look upon

that as an average dose. It would generally be fatal. Vomiting is

almost invariably the consequence of arsenic introduced into the

stomach. A person attacked by that would be likely to throw up a

portion of the arsenic. Looking at the quantity I found, and the

parts in which I found it, _in my judgment the arsenic I found had

been taken not more than two or three hours before death_, but that

is a matter of opinion; a dose might have been given before. It would

depend upon many circumstances how soon it would find its way into the

liver.”

_Cross-examined._—_Question._—“About two grains of arsenic you say

would cause death; do you mean taken together?”

_Answer._—“Yes, or less; 2½ grains have done so. I know nothing

of this transaction but from the examination. I found a very small

portion in the liver, perhaps one tenth of a grain in a quarter of a

pound. A liver weighs about 5 pounds, and supposing the arsenic to be

equally diffused, there would be twenty times that quantity—equal to

2 grains. _My observation with reference to the time it had been taken

was in reference both to the stomach and the liver._”

_Question._—“Are the data at all safe?”

_Answer._—“Yes; I will tell you why. I found in the stomach 8½ grains

of arsenic, and there was not much in the intestines. _I conclude,

therefore, that there had not been time for it to have passed into

the intestines, which would have been the case if it had been taken

long before death. But there was only a trace in the intestines, so

I conclude that it was taken a very short time before death._ That

furnishes datum to me to form a judgment on the subject of hours.

Food remains five hours before it passes into the intestines. I am

able to say that the contents of the stomach pass into the intestines

in four, eight, or ten hours, from experiments I have performed on

living subjects. _I have not the least doubt._ I saw the intestines;

they were in the jar. They did not appear to have been influenced by

arsenic; they were slightly red, and there were traces of arsenic.

I have reduced something that was in the intestines into a metallic

state. I experimented on it, and found it was arsenic. It was

destroyed in the experiment to which I was obliged to submit it to

prove it was arsenic. It was not likely that I should find it in

the liver without some being in the intestines. The time would not

depend on the constitution of the person. Digestion depends upon

the constitution, but I am speaking of the average. Digestion is

more or less rapid according to the constitution of the person who

has received the subject matter. I have heard of cases in which

matters which would not digest have remained three or four days, but

those were solid matters. _I think liquids pass into the stomach_

(_intestines_?) _under all circumstances in five hours as_ (_after_?)

_they are imbibed._ There is a valve which prevents solid matters from

passing into the stomach till they are digested. _The arsenic was

in a liquid state, all except a little white powder on the side of

the stomach._ I am obliged to have recourse to an average to form an

opinion as to how long it would take. We have no means of dealing with

an independent case except by an average.”

_By Mr. Bodkin, Q.C._—_Question._—“What did the contents of the

stomach look like?”

_Answer._—“Thick gruel. They were filtered, and I examined the

filtered portion, _and my opinion is that the arsenic had been taken

two or three hours_.”[127]

PURCHASE OF POISON BY THE PRISONER.

This was proved by the son of a chemist of the name of Brown, of whom

the prisoner purchased two pennyworths of arsenic on the 19th of

January, which, at her request, he enclosed in two separate papers,

each marked “poison,” as she said that one of them was for her sister

who lived some distance off. The papers had something of the appearance

of those of effervescing powders.

CONDUCT AND STATEMENTS OF THE PRISONER.

_Mrs. Gillett_ gave some remarkable evidence as to the statements and

conduct of the prisoner during the night of her husband’s fatal illness

and after his death.

“When the prisoner called me in a little after nine in the evening,

I found her husband in bed retching violently, and I gave him water

half-a-dozen times, and then went for Dr. Toulmin. At five o’clock

that day the prisoner said she was going for the doctor, to tell

him to send her husband something for the bile, but that he did not

want her to do so. A second time during the evening she told me she

wanted to do this, and that he would not let her, and that she had

applied to a neighbouring doctor, but that he had refused to come,

and only sent some pills. After her husband died she said, ‘How true

were Dr. Toulmin’s words,’ that, ‘when her husband once took to his

bed, he would go off like the snuff of a candle.’” [Dr. Toulmin had

no recollection of ever having made such a statement.] “Next day the

secretary of the Benefit Society to which her husband belonged called

and had some conversation with her. Before that she had spoken to me

about the Benefit Society, and said if her husband died she should

have the full benefit of it. On the day of the _post-mortem_ she asked

me if I had asked Dr. Toulmin what was the cause of death, and I said,

from what I heard, it was poison; when she said, ‘Do you think I am

guilty?’ I replied, ‘I do not doubt you.’ Then she walked about in an

agitated manner and appeared distressed. On the day of the inquest

she said to me, ‘You know, Mrs. Gillett, that Annie (her little girl)

ate the rest of the gruel.’ I said ‘Don’t say so; I did not see any

of you eat it.’ She said, ‘If I did not _Ashby_ did, and he ought to

be the first witness’ (_Ashby_ said he did not see the deceased or

anyone eat it). On the day of the adjourned inquest she asked me if

poison had been found, and when I said ‘Yes’ she said ‘I am innocent;

he was a good husband, and it is not likely I should do such a thing.

Dear creature; if that is the case he has done it with his own hands.’

I replied ‘It is not likely, as he purchased a new pair of boots the

morning before his death.’ Whilst we were talking _Andrews_, the

summoning officer, came in, and she said to him ‘Mrs. Gillett knows

that I ate the rest of the gruel,’ and I replied ‘I know nothing about

it, or who ate it.’[128] On the 31st of January in her house she said

to me ‘Do you think if I had any hand in his death I should not have

let him live to to-day and then have received the full benefit from

the society.’”[129]

_On cross-examination_ the witness protested that she had repeated

these conversations before, and was almost certain she had done so

before the coroner and the magistrate. When she said ‘I did not doubt

her,’ she meant that she had not the slightest suspicion of her

guilt. The witness had introduced the subject of the burial club.

The prisoner was kind and affectionate to her husband, and attentive

during his illness, and much distressed. The witness had heard the

deceased complain of the difficulties into which his wife had plunged

him, and on the Monday before he was taken ill they had quarrelled.

Other statements of a most unfavourable character were improperly

extracted from her by _Coward_, the inspector of police. As the Lord

Chief Baron said, with well-deserved reproof, he had evidently prepared

a proceeding, and framed certain questions, which would enable him to

observe the demeanour of the prisoner when she was confronted with

a witness ready in attendance, in order to give his own view of her

conduct afterwards to the jury.

“I,” said this witness, “saw the prisoner on the 2nd of February in

her house, and told her I had come to ask a few questions, which she

might answer or not as she pleased, but that it would be my duty to

repeat her answers to the magistrate; that I should like to have some

women present to hear, and accordingly sent for two of her neighbours,

and when they had come I asked her ‘Did she know of any arsenic being

in the house?’ ‘No.’ ‘Did her husband use it in his business?’ ‘No.’

‘Had she purchased any lately?’ ‘No.’ _Brown_ was then brought in, and

she turned pale and agitated. I told her _Brown_ had told me she had,

and she said ‘That was true, and she would tell me what for.’ On the

way to the police court she said ‘she purchased it for herself, but

thought better of it afterwards.’ I asked her what had become of it

afterwards, and she said ‘she had emptied it into one paper.’ She then

changed the conversation, and said that her husband was very fond of

soda and acid powders, and that a woman had told her that he had said

he was very troubled in his mind, and did not know whether he should

not jump into the river or Clapton pond.”

_On cross-examination_ he excused the presence of the women, on the

ground that he wanted to see if _Brown_ could identify the prisoner;

that she wanted to say more but that he stopt her, and told her to

tell the magistrate.

Of this last statement of the inspector, the Lord Chief Baron added in

his charge—

“That it appeared to him to be a piece of hypocrisy, which accorded

with all the rest of his conduct. He wished it to go forth to the

public, and that the police themselves should understand, that

such proceedings savoured of an excess of zeal which was perfectly

unjustifiable, and which ought not to be looked on in any other light

than discreditable.”

To _Clarke_, a police constable, she said, whilst in custody, that “she

supposed she should be hung—they had told so many lies about it—she

bought the arsenic for her husband.” To the female searcher at the

police-station she said that she did not know on what charge she was

brought there; and then, when told it, added, “I know he was poisoned,

but not by whom.” And when told that _Mrs. Gillett_ was the principal

witness against her, declared that she was forsworn. On the second

examination at the police-court, she told the gaoler that “she wished

the magistrate to know something about the case. All she had said was

true, except as to not buying the poison. She had placed it in the same

cupboard with her husband’s powders after taking off the papers marked

‘poison.’ If he had taken it, it must have been by mistake, and she

threw the remainder of the poison and all his powders into the fire.

She intended to have taken it herself if he went on as he had done.”

THE PRISONER’S STATEMENT.

“I have nothing to say except that I never intended my husband to take

the poison. When I bought it I intended to take it myself, if he had

come home as he had done several times before. I could not live with

him had he gone on so. I thought no more of it till the Sunday, when I

thought he might have taken it instead of the soda, and then I burnt

it. What I said about hanging was this—‘If I am to be hanged this

moment I am innocent of anything to my husband.’ I have nothing more

to say.”

_Mr. Clarkson_, for the defence, after alluding to the difficulties

under which he laboured in consequence of the prisoner not having

made any preparations for her defence, and the brief having only been

handed to him as the case was opened, attacked the evidence of Coward

in language which the Lord Chief Baron entirely adopted, and asked the

jury to dismiss it from their consideration. He also characterised the

declarations of the prisoner as told by witnesses clearly unfavourable

to her. “With regard to the testimony of Dr. Letheby, if they relied

on it, it would be necessary,” he said, “to come to the conclusion

that the prisoner had continued administering poison to the deceased

during the whole of the day—as it was proved that he was ill as early

as eight in the morning. But he asked the jury if her conduct would

justify such a conclusion. Her story might be true, and if the deceased

took the poison through her culpable negligence in putting it in the

cupboard with his soda powders, the offence would not be murder, but

manslaughter.”

The strong remarks of the Lord Chief Baron on the conduct and evidence

of Coward have already been given, and as the remainder of his charge

consisted only of an analysis of the evidence, and its application

to the different points of the case, it is needless to report it.

As was characteristic of this kind judge, every point that could be

made in favour of the prisoner was brought clearly out in his able

charge. After a brief deliberation, a verdict of guilty, coupled with

a recommendation to mercy on account of her previously good character,

was returned, and sentence of death was pronounced by the learned judge.

A medical man of large experience, who was present during the trial,

was so astonished at the statement of Dr. Letheby as to the time when

the arsenic had been administered, that he communicated with the

sheriffs, who brought the case before Sir George Grey, by whom it was

referred to Sir Benjamin Brodie, Dr. Billing, Dr. Leeson, and other

medical men of repute. These, it was understood, agreed that the time

of administration could not be fixed. On this, at the urgent request

of Dr. Pereira, Dr. Letheby wrote to the Home Secretary that it was

his duty to admit that it was within the range of possibility—nay,

even probable—that the arsenic might have been taken, as the

woman asserted, early in the morning of her husband’s death, and

in consequence the capital sentence was commuted for one of penal

servitude for life. This case was used by Mr. Bright in his speech in

the House of Commons in favour of the abolition of capital punishments,

as a strong example of their danger.

How much more satisfactory would it have been could a court of appeal

have reheard such a case instead of its being left to the Home

Secretary’s judgment of evidence known only to himself.[130]