THE evidence of the doctors and the chemists closed the proceedings on
the first day of the Trial.
On the second day the evidence to be produced by the prosecution was
anticipated with a general feeling of curiosity and interest. The Court
was now to hear what had been seen and done by the persons officially
appointed to verify such cases of suspected crime as the case which had
occurred at Gleninch. The Procurator-Fiscal--being the person officially
appointed to direct the preliminary investigations of the law--was the
first witness called on the second day of the Trial.
Examined by the Lord Advocate, the Fiscal gave his evidence, as follows:
“On the twenty-sixth of October I received a communication from Doctor
Jerome, of Edinburgh, and from Mr. Alexander Gale, medical practitioner,
residing in the village or hamlet of Dingdovie, near Edinburgh. The
communication related to the death, under circumstances of suspicion, of
Mrs. Eustace Macallan, at her husband’s house, hard by Dingdovie, called
Gleninch. There were also forwarded to me, inclosed in the document
just mentioned, two reports. One described the results of a postmortem
examination of the deceased lady, and the other stated the discoveries
made after a chemical analysis of certain of the interior organs of her
body. The result in both instances proved to demonstration that Mrs.
Eustace Macallan had died of poisoning by arsenic.
“Under these circumstances, I set in motion a search and inquiry in
the house at Gleninch and elsewhere, simply for the purpose of throwing
light on the circumstances which had attended the lady’s death.
“No criminal charge in connection with the death was made at my office
against any person, either in the communication which I received from
the medical men or in any other form. The investigations at Gleninch and
elsewhere, beginning on the twenty-sixth of October, were not completed
until the twenty-eighth. Upon this latter date--acting on certain
discoveries which were reported to me, and on my own examination of
letters and other documents brought to my office--I made a criminal
charge against the prisoner, and obtained a warrant for his
apprehension. He was examined before the Sheriff on the twenty-ninth of
October, and was committed for trial before this Court.”
The Fiscal having made his statement, and having been cross-examined (on
technical matters only), the persons employed in his office were called
next. These men had a story of startling interest to tell. Theirs were
the fatal discoveries which had justified the Fiscal in charging my
husband with the murder of his wife. The first of the witnesses was a
sheriff’s officer. He gave his name as Isaiah Schoolcraft.
Examined by Mr. Drew--Advocate-Depute, and counsel for the Crown, with
the Lord Advocate--Isaiah Schoolcraft said:
“I got a warrant on the twenty-sixth of October to go to the
country-house near Edinburgh called Gleninch. I took with me Robert
Lorrie, assistant to the Fiscal. We first examined the room in which
Mrs. Eustace Macallan had died. On the bed, and on a movable table which
was attached to it, we found books and writing materials, and a paper
containing some unfinished verses in manuscript, afterward identified as
being in the handwriting of the deceased. We inclosed these articles in
paper, and sealed them up.
“We next opened an Indian cabinet in the bedroom. Here we found many
more verses on many more sheets of paper in the same hand-writing. We
also discovered, first some letters, and next a crumpled piece of paper
thrown aside in a corner of one of the shelves. On closer examination, a
chemist’s printed label was discovered on this morsel of paper. We also
found in the folds of it a few scattered grains of some white powder.
The paper and the letters were carefully inclosed, and sealed up as
before.
“Further investigation of the room revealed nothing which could throw
any light on the purpose of our inquiry. We examined the clothes,
jewelry, and books of the deceased. These we left under lock and key. We
also found her dressing-case, which we protected by seals, and took away
with us to the Fiscal’s office, along with all the other articles that
we had discovered in the room.
“The next day we continued our examination in the house, having received
in the interval fresh instructions from the Fiscal. We began our work in
the bedroom communicating with the room in which Mrs. Macallan had
died. It had been kept locked since the death. Finding nothing of any
importance here, we went next to another room on the same floor, in
which we were informed the prisoner was then lying ill in bed.
“His illness was described to us as a nervous complaint, caused by the
death of his wife, and by the proceedings which had followed it. He was
reported to be quite incapable of exerting himself, and quite unfit
to see strangers. We insisted nevertheless (in deference to our
instructions) on obtaining admission to his room. He made no reply
when we inquired whether he had or had not removed anything from the
sleeping-room next to his late wife’s, which he usually occupied, to the
sleeping-room in which he now lay. All he did was to close his eyes, as
if he were too feeble to speak to us or to notice us. Without further
disturbing him, we began to examine the room and the different objects
in it.
“While we were so employed, we were interrupted by a strange sound. We
likened it to the rumbling of wheels in the corridor outside.
“The door opened, and there came swiftly in a gentleman--a
cripple--wheeling himself along in a chair. He wheeled his chair
straight up to a little table which stood by the prisoner’s bedside, and
said something to him in a whisper too low to be overheard. The prisoner
opened his eyes, and quickly answered by a sign. We informed the
crippled gentleman, quite respectfully, that we could not allow him to
be in the room at this time. He appeared to think nothing of what we
said. He only answered, ‘My name is Dexter. I am one of Mr. Macallan’s
old friends. It is you who are intruding here--not I.’ We again notified
to him that he must leave the room; and we pointed out particularly that
he had got his chair in such a position against the bedside table as
to prevent us from examining it. He only laughed. ‘Can’t you see for
yourselves,’ he said, ‘that it is a table, and nothing more?’ In reply
to this we warned him that we were acting under a legal warrant, and
that he might get into trouble if he obstructed us in the execution
of our duty. Finding there was no moving him by fair means, I took his
chair and pulled it away, while Robert Lorrie laid hold of the table
and carried it to the other end of the room. The crippled gentleman flew
into a furious rage with me for presuming to touch his chair. ‘My chair
is Me,’ he said: ‘how dare you lay hands on Me?’ I first opened the
door, and then, by way of accommodating him, gave the chair a good push
behind with my stick instead of my hand, and so sent it and him safely
and swiftly out of the room.
“Having locked the door, so as to prevent any further intrusion, I
joined Robert Lorrie in examining the bedside table. It had one drawer
in it, and that drawer we found secured.
“We asked the prisoner for the key.
“He flatly refused to give it to us, and said we had no right to unlock
his drawers. He was so angry that he even declared it was lucky for us
he was too weak to rise from his bed. I answered civilly that our duty
obliged us to examine the drawer, and that if he still declined to
produce the key, he would only oblige us to take the table away and have
the lock opened by a smith.
“While we were still disputing there was a knock at the door of the
room.
“I opened the door cautiously. Instead of the crippled gentleman, whom I
had expected to see again, there was another stranger standing outside.
The prisoner hailed him as a friend and neighbor, and eagerly called
upon him for protection from us. We found this second gentleman pleasant
enough to deal with. He informed us readily that he had been sent for
by Mr. Dexter, and that he was himself a lawyer, and he asked to see
our warrant. Having looked at it, he at once informed the prisoner
(evidently very much to the prisoner’s surprise) that he must submit to
have the drawer examined, under protest. And then, without more ado, he
got the key, and opened the table drawer for us himself.
“We found inside several letters, and a large book with a lock to it,
having the words ‘My Diary’ inscribed on it in gilt letters. As a matter
of course, we took possession of the letters and the Diary, and sealed
them up, to be given to the Fiscal. At the same time the gentleman wrote
out a protest on the prisoner’s behalf, and handed us his card. The
card informed us that he was Mr. Playmore, now one of the Agents for
the prisoner. The card and the protest were deposited, with the other
documents, in the care of the Fiscal. No other discoveries of any
importance were made at Gleninch.
“Our next inquiries took us to Edinburgh--to the druggist whose label
we had found on the crumpled morsel of paper, and to other druggists
likewise whom we were instructed to question. On the twenty-eighth of
October the Fiscal was in possession of all the information that we
could collect, and our duties for the time being came to an end.”
This concluded the evidence of Schoolcraft and Lorrie. It was not shaken
on cross-examination, and it was plainly unfavorable to the prisoner.
Matters grew worse still when the next witnesses were called. The
druggist whose label had been found on the crumpled bit of paper now
appeared on the stand, to make the position of my unhappy husband more
critical than ever.
Andrew Kinlay, druggist, of Edinburgh, deposed as follows:
“I keep a special registry book of the poisons sold by me. I produce the
book. On the date therein mentioned the prisoner at the bar, Mr. Eustace
Macallan, came into my shop, and said that he wished to purchase some
arsenic. I asked him what it was wanted for. He told me it was wanted by
his gardener, to be used, in solution, for the killing of insects in
the greenhouse. At the same time he mentioned his name--Mr. Macallan,
of Gleninch. I at once directed my assistant to put up the arsenic (two
ounces of it), and I made the necessary entry in my book. Mr. Macallan
signed the entry, and I signed it afterward as witness. He paid for the
arsenic, and took it away with him wrapped up in two papers, the outer
wrapper being labeled with my name and address, and with the word
‘Poison’ in large letters--exactly like the label now produced on the
piece of paper found at Gleninch.”
The next witness, Peter Stockdale (also a druggist of Edinburgh),
followed, and said:
“The prisoner at the bar called at my shop on the date indicated on my
register, some days later than the date indicated in the register of Mr.
Kinlay. He wished to purchase sixpenny-worth of arsenic. My assistant,
to whom he had addressed himself, called me. It is a rule in my shop
that no one sells poisons but myself. I asked the prisoner what he
wanted the arsenic for. He answered that he wanted it for killing rats
at his house, called Gleninch. I said, ‘Have I the honor of speaking to
Mr. Macallan, of Gleninch?’ He said that was his name. I sold him the
arsenic--about an ounce and a half--and labeled the bottle in which
I put it with the word ‘Poison’ in my own handwriting. He signed the
register, and took the arsenic away with him, after paying for it.”
The cross-examination of the two men succeeded in asserting certain
technical objections to their evidence. But the terrible fact that
my husband himself had actually purchased the arsenic in both cases
remained unshaken.
The next witnesses--the gardener and the cook at Gleninch--wound the
chain of hostile evidence around the prisoner more mercilessly still.
On examination the gardener said, on his oath:
“I never received any arsenic from the prisoner, or from any one else,
at the date to which you refer, of at any other date. I never used any
such thing as a solution of arsenic, or ever allowed the men working
under me to use it, in the conservatories or in the garden at Gleninch.
I disapprove of arsenic as a means of destroying noxious insects
infesting flowers and plants.”
The cook, being called next, spoke as positively as the gardener:
“Neither my master nor any other person gave me any arsenic to destroy
rats at any time. No such thing was wanted. I declare, on my oath, that
I never saw any rats in or about the house, or ever heard of any rats
infesting it.”
Other household servants at Gleninch gave similar evidence. Nothing
could be extracted from them on cross-examination except that there
might have been rats in the house, though they were not aware of it. The
possession of the poison was traced directly to my husband, and to no
one else. That he had bought it was actually proved, and that he had
kept it was the one conclusion that the evidence justified.
The witnesses who came next did their best to press the charge against
the prisoner home to him. Having the arsenic in his possession, what
had he done with it? The evidence led the jury to infer what he had done
with it.
The prisoner’s valet deposed that his master had rung for him at twenty
minutes to ten on the morning of the day on which his mistress died, and
had ordered a cup of tea for her. The man had received the order at the
open door of Mrs. Macallan’s room, and could positively swear that no
other person but his master was there at the time.
The under-housemaid, appearing next, said that she had made the tea,
and had herself taken it upstairs before ten o’clock to Mrs. Macallan’s
room. Her master had received it from her at the open door. She could
look in, and could see that he was alone in her mistress’s room.
The nurse, Christina Ormsay, being recalled, repeated what Mrs. Macallan
had said to her on the day when that lady was first taken ill. She
had said (speaking to the nurse at six o’clock in the morning), “Mr.
Macallan came in about an hour since; he found me still sleepless, and
gave me my composing draught.” This was at five o’clock in the morning,
while Christina Ormsay was asleep on the sofa. The nurse further swore
that she had looked at the bottle containing the composing mixture,
and had seen by the measuring marks on the bottle that a dose had been
poured out since the dose previously given, administered by herself.
On this occasion special interest was excited by the cross-examination.
The closing questions put to the under-housemaid and the nurse revealed
for the first time what the nature of the defense was to be.
Cross-examining the under-housemaid, the Dean of Faculty said:
“Did you ever notice when you were setting Mrs. Eustace Macallan’s
room to rights whether the water left in the basin was of a blackish or
bluish color?” The witness answered, “I never noticed anything of the
sort.”
The Dean of Faculty went on:
“Did you ever find under the pillow of the bed, or in any other hiding
place in Mrs. Macallan’s room, any books or pamphlets telling of
remedies used for improving a bad complexion?” The witness answered,
“No.”
The Dean of Faculty persisted:
“Did you ever hear Mrs. Macallan speak of arsenic, taken as a wash or
taken as a medicine, as a good thing to improve the complexion?” The
witness answered, “Never.”
Similar questions were next put to the nurse, and were all answered by
this witness also in the negative.
Here, then, in spite of the negative answers, was the plan of the
defense made dimly visible for the first time to the jury and to the
audience. By way of preventing the possibility of a mistake in so
serious a matter, the Chief Judge (the Lord Justice Clerk) put this
plain question, when the witnesses had retired, to the Counsel for the
defense:
“The Court and the jury,” said his lordship, “wish distinctly to
understand the object of your cross-examination of the housemaid and the
nurse. Is it the theory of the defense that Mrs. Eustace Macallan used
the arsenic which--her husband purchased for the purpose of improving
the defects of her complexion?”
The Dean of Faculty answered:
“That is what we say, my lord, and what we propose to prove as the
foundation of the defense. We cannot dispute the medical evidence which
declares that Mrs. Macallan died poisoned. But we assert that she died
of an overdose of arsenic, ignorantly taken, in the privacy of her own
room, as a remedy for the defects--the proved and admitted defects--of
her complexion. The prisoner’s Declaration before the Sheriff expressly
sets forth that he purchased the arsenic at the request of his wife.”
The Lord Justice Clerk inquired upon this if there were any objection on
the part of either of the learned counsel to have the Declaration read
in Court before the Trial proceeded further.
To this the Dean of Faculty replied that he would be glad to have the
Declaration read. If he might use the expression, it would usefully pave
the way in the minds of the jury for the defense which he had to submit
to them.
The Lord Advocate (speaking on the other side) was happy to be able
to accommodate his learned brother in this matter. So long as the mere
assertions which the Declaration contained were not supported by proof,
he looked upon that document as evidence for the prosecution, and he too
was quite willing to have it read.
Thereupon the prisoner’s Declaration of his innocence--on being char
ged before the Sheriff with the murder of his wife--was read, in the
following terms:
“I bought the two packets of arsenic, on each occasion at my wife’s own
request. On the first occasion she told me the poison was wanted by the
gardener for use in the conservatories. On the second occasion she said
it was required by the cook for ridding the lower part of the house of
rats.
“I handed both packets of arsenic to my wife immediately on my return
home. I had nothing to do with the poison after buying it. My wife was
the person who gave orders to the gardener and cook--not I. I never held
any communication with either of them.
“I asked my wife no questions about the use of the arsenic, feeling no
interest in the subject. I never entered the conservatories for months
together; I care little about flowers. As for the rats, I left the
killing of them to the cook and the other servants, just as I should
have left any other part of the domestic business to the cook and the
other servants.
“My wife never told me she wanted the arsenic to improve her complexion.
Surely I should be the last person admitted to the knowledge of such a
secret of her toilet as that? I implicitly believed what she told me;
viz., that the poison was wanted for the purposes specified by the
gardener and the cook.
“I assert positively that I lived on friendly terms with my wife,
allowing, of course, for the little occasional disagreements and
misunderstandings of married life. Any sense of disappointment in
connection with my marriage which I might have felt privately I
conceived it to be my duty as a husband and a gentleman to conceal from
my wife. I was not only shocked and grieved by her untimely death--I
was filled with fear that I had not, with all my care, behaved
affectionately enough to her in her lifetime.
“Furthermore, I solemnly declare that I know no more of how she took the
arsenic found in her body than the babe unborn. I am innocent even of
the thought of harming that unhappy woman. I administered the composing
draught exactly as I found it in the bottle. I afterward gave her the
cup of tea exactly as I received it from the under-housemaid’s hand. I
never had access to the arsenic after I placed the two packages in my
wife’s possession. I am entirely ignorant of what she did with them
or of where she kept them. I declare before God I am innocent of the
horrible crime with which I am charged.”
With the reading of those true and touching words the proceedings on the
second day of the Trial came to an end.
So far, I must own, the effect on me of reading the Report was to
depress my spirits and to lower my hopes. The whole weight of the
evidence at the close of the second day was against my unhappy husband.
Woman as I was, and partisan as I was, I could plainly see that.
The merciless Lord Advocate (I confess I hated him!) had proved (1) that
Eustace had bought the poison; (2) that the reason which he had given to
the druggists for buying the poison was not the true reason; (3) that
he had had two opportunities of secretly administering the poison to
his wife. On the other side, what had the Dean of Faculty proved?
As yet--nothing. The assertions in the prisoner’s Declaration of his
innocence were still, as the Lord Advocate had remarked, assertions not
supported by proof. Not one atom of evidence had been produced to show
that it was the wife who had secretly used the arsenic, and used it for
her complexion.
My one consolation was that the reading of the Trial had already
revealed to me the helpful figures of two friends on whose sympathy I
might surely rely. The crippled Mr. Dexter had especially shown himself
to be a thorough good ally of my husband’s. My heart warmed to the
man who had moved his chair against the bedside table--the man who had
struggled to the last to defend Eustace’s papers from the wretches who
had seized them. I decided then and there that the first person to whom
I would confide my aspirations and my hopes should be Mr. Dexter. If he
felt any difficulty about advising me, I would then apply next to the
agent, Mr. Playmore--the second good friend, who had formally protested
against the seizure of my husband’s papers.
Fortified by this resolution, I turned the page, and read the history of
the third day of the Trial.