There Must Be Evil

by Bernard Taylor

  Mr Cottingham, unable to attend the previous day’s hearing, was at the police court well before ten o’clock on Friday morning. There, as on the previous day, the public gallery was tightly packed, with the galleries once more set apart for the female spectators who, as previously, far outnumbered the male.

  Just after ten the magistrates came in, and shortly afterwards Elizabeth Berry’s name was called. She appeared, ‘stepping lightly’ to the solicitors’ table where she shook hands with Mr Cottingham and took her seat next to Mr Whitaker and his clerk, George Robinson. Dressed again in mourning attire, she also wore a pair of long black gloves, which she removed soon after the proceedings began.

  After Mr Mellor had addressed the bench, the first witness of the day, Alice Alcroft, was called. She told the court that she was employed in the workhouse kitchen, which was situated almost opposite Mrs Berry’s sitting room, that she had given Edith her supper on the Friday evening and served the two girls their breakfasts the next morning. Half an hour afterwards, she said, she was called into the sitting room to wipe up some vomit, and then sent to fetch a box of mineral powders from the surgery.

  After Alcroft came Mary Jane Knight, who said she looked after the lying-in wards at the workhouse, and worked as a servant to Mrs Berry. She had been summoned by Beatrice Hall on the Saturday and found the child lying on the sofa in Mrs Berry’s sitting room, and then again on the Monday afternoon to Mrs Berry’s bedroom. On this occasion she noticed blisters on the child’s lips. She was in the kitchen on the Sunday morning, she said, ‘when Mrs Berry sent down for an orange’. Asked if she was sure it was an orange and not a lemon, she said, ‘I’m sure it was an orange. Beatrice Hall went into the store and got it herself.’

  Dr Patterson was called next, but just as he was about to step into the witness box Mr Mellor said that the Chief Constable had arrived, and as he was unwell he would like to be allowed to give his evidence next. Permission was given, and Mr Hodgkinson came forward. As he was feeling too ill to stand he gave his evidence seated. In his testimony he told of his going to interview Mrs Berry, of being taken to see the child’s body, and of being ‘struck with astonishment’ on seeing her mouth. The next day, he said, he had photographs taken of the face of the dead child.

  Dr Patterson then took the stand, stating that he had been medical officer of the Oldham workhouse for the past twelve years. ‘I don’t live at the workhouse, but I visit it nearly every day. I don’t go on Sundays unless I’m sent for.’ He then reiterated his account of being called on the morning of Saturday 1 January to see Mrs Berry’s daughter, of prescribing for the child and visiting her again that evening. Calling on her again the next day he found her improved, but that night found her to be much worse. ‘Her eyes were sunken in her head and her pulse was almost imperceptible,’ he said. ‘Her mother told me that during the Sunday she had vomited a great deal and also started to be purged, and that the evacuations contained blood. She told me that the evacuations had been washed away. I also noted the state of the child’s mouth – that the edges of the lips were red and swollen. I asked the mother what had caused this inflammation and she replied, “I gave her a piece of lemon with some sugar, and that’s what did it.”’

  Cross-examined by Mr Cottingham, he said he had concluded that between his morning and evening visits an irritant, and probably a corrosive, poison had been administered. ‘I told the mother that her daughter was in a very dangerous state, but I didn’t mention my suspicions.’ He had then brought in Dr Robertson and they had made for the child a mixture containing morphia and bismuth. ‘The next morning, Monday,’ he said, ‘I went to see the child again and found her much worse, and she continued to sink till her death.’

  He went on to say that on the Thursday he had assisted Dr Robertson and Dr Harris in making a complete post-mortem. He agreed with Dr Harris in that the child’s death was caused by a corrosive poison, but as to the nature of the poison, he didn’t know what it was.

  ‘If you suspected poison,’ Mr Cottingham said, ‘why did you prescribe bismuth?’

  ‘The patient was in great distress,’ the doctor replied, ‘and I prescribed morphia and bismuth to relieve the pain and allay the vomiting.’

  ‘At the expense of her life?’

  ‘That doesn’t follow,’ said Patterson. ‘It was the most likely thing to help her through.’

  ‘You prescribed to allay the vomiting, and left the poison to do its work?’

  ‘No,’ Patterson said at once, ‘I will not have that put down.’

  ‘It is what it amounts to,’ Mr Cottingham came back, and then, ‘What would be the effect of bismuth on the stomach?’

  ‘It would allay the vomiting.’

  ‘Would vomiting have the effect of getting rid of the poison that had not been absorbed?’

  ‘If it was there, yes.’

  ‘Why,’ then, Mr Cottingham asked, ‘did you not apply yourself to dealing with the poison, and try to get it out of the stomach?’ Dr Patterson replied that he and Dr Robertson had agreed that they should relieve the girl’s suffering at once, and on that account prescribed morphia and bismuth.

  Questioned with regard to his meeting with the Chief Constable, the doctor said that on the Tuesday he gave Mr Hodgkinson a towel that he had received from Mrs Berry and told him that he thought the child had been poisoned. ‘And I made the suggestion that Mrs Berry should perhaps be arrested,’ he said.

  After some further exchanges Mr Cottingham asked the doctor whether he had suggested to anyone that the child, for her protection, should be watched. ‘No,’ the doctor replied, ‘it was too late then.’

  This brought Dr Patterson’s examination to an end.

  The final witness in the hearing was Dr Robertson. He told the court that Dr Patterson had come to him on the Sunday and he had accompanied him to the workhouse to see the sick child. On observing the blisters on the child’s mouth, he said, he had asked the mother if she could explain them, and in reply she said she had given her a lemon with some sugar. On asking Mrs Berry to show him the evacuations from the child’s bowels, she told him that she had not kept them. ‘The child was conscious while I was there,’ he said, ‘but greatly exhausted.’ He formed the opinion that the symptoms were not due to any ordinary disease, but probably arose from some irritant poison, and was further of the opinion that the poison was probably administered by the mouth, in liquid form. He had suspected initially that it was oxalic acid, but came to agree with Dr Harris that it was ‘more sulphuric acid than any other acid’. He and Dr Patterson, he said, did not do anything ‘to meet the action of the poison’ as they did not know what the poison was.

  Mr Cottingham had one more question for him: ‘Can you say why you did not go back to see the patient again after seeing her on the Sunday?’

  Said Dr Robertson: ‘I didn’t go because I wasn’t asked.’

  After the doctor had stepped down, Mr Mellor announced that the case for the prosecution was finished, and Mr Cottingham rose, saying to the magistrates that in the event that they had not reached any conclusion following the evidence presented it was his duty to put before them his client’s side of the case. The magistrates conferred on this, after which the chairman said the bench would like to hear Mr Cottingham’s comments. This was Mr Cottingham’s cue, and he was well up to the mark.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ he began, ‘I can scarcely imagine a more onerous duty which could befall a bench of magistrates. You have before you a gentlewoman of unimpeached character; a woman who has not only held a responsible position in this borough, but who came here with the very best credentials. Upon her character not a shadow of suspicion has ever rested. She is a widow. She had one surviving child. This little girl was beloved by her mother. There has not been a suggestion throughout this case that the mother was ever negligent of her child, or that she was ever forgetful of her duties as a mother.’

  After relating how Mrs Berry had brought her child – ‘fairly well nourished [but] by no
means robust’ – to Oldham, and of the child being seized with vomiting on the Saturday morning, he said it was not possible for Mrs Berry to have administered poison to her. Although a witness had attempted to show that Mrs Berry was alone with the child in the surgery that morning, her evidence was contradicted by that of Beatrice Hall, who said her friend had never been out her sight, and also by Alice Alcroft, who was working in the kitchen: ‘The door of the kitchen is almost opposite to that of the surgery, so she had ample opportunity of seeing anyone who went in there.’ The first time Mrs Berry gave the child anything was after she had already started to vomit, and as soon as she realized that her child was ill she sent for the doctor. ‘Did you,’ he asked, ‘ever hear of a mother who poisoned her child and then sent for a doctor at the earliest opportunity?’

  He then pointed out that initially Dr Patterson had no suspicions of foul play and had treated the patient for ulceration of the stomach, but that on the Sunday morning, finding her much better, he gave her bicarbonate of soda and the rinsings of a creosote bottle. ‘It seems to me peculiar treatment on the part of a doctor to give a patient the rinsings from a bottle,’ he said. He then went on: ‘When the doctor visited that evening he found the symptoms had changed, and he came to the conclusion that an irritant poison had been administered between his visits. Under these circumstances what does he do? Obviously the first thing to be done in such a case is to get rid of the poison, or to neutralize it. Instead of that the child is prescribed bismuth and morphia to relieve the pain, which would have the effect of keeping whatever was in the stomach still there to do its deadly work. Why did Dr Patterson not take active steps to save the child’s life? Why did he make no attempt whatsoever to antagonize the poison? And if he believed that the child’s mother was guilty of administering poison, why did he not withdraw the child from her custody?’

  After saying that the child never complained of anything she had been given, he said he would like to know how the poison could have been administered without her being aware of it. ‘Sulphuric acid would surely have burnt her mouth very badly and caused her to complain, wouldn’t it?’ And, in the event that poison had indeed been administered, how did the prosecution connect Mrs Berry with it? She had never attempted to conceal anything. ‘She sent for the doctor promptly. She kept the towels stained with vomit and showed them to him. Is this the way a poisoner behaves?’

  He then got to the matter of motive. The imputed motive was the insurance money of £10, which was drawn to pay the funeral expenses. ‘Is that a motive?’ he said. ‘To suggest that a woman in her position should not only have murdered her own child, but to have done it for such a paltry sum of money only goes to show the mare’s nest into which the prosecution has fallen.’ He appealed to the bench. ‘Does the accused look like a murderess?’ he asked. ‘Are her antecedents such as would lead you to suppose she is capable of this terrible crime? If we send this lady for trial, would a jury of Englishmen convict her? If you have no reasonable belief that they would, and yet you still send her for trial, then I say, with the greatest deference, that you would be guilty of a violation of public duty. But before submitting her to such a trying ordeal you should once again ask yourselves: Is there a single portion of the evidence which points to complicity on the part of the prisoner? And it will not do to say that she was there and had access to the poison. No, the question must be this: Is there any proof that she administered it?’

  Mr Cottingham was near the end of his address, but he had not quite finished with Dr Patterson. After citing instances of his behaviour, he said, ‘I can only suggest to you that the doctor’s conduct was very peculiar, and the bench certainly ought not to join him in the suspicions he has thrown out when these suspicions are destitute of any facts.’ He concluded by saying, ‘I am certain that I have the honour of addressing four humane and intelligent English magistrates, who will not pause to speculate on what further evidence might be obtained if the prisoner were committed for trial, but who will do no more than consider the evidence before them now. Gentlemen, I confidently await your decision.’

  With these words Mr Cottingham went back to his seat, and the magistrates rose and left the courtroom to confer and to form their verdict. It was just after four o’clock.

  There is no question but that the magistrates had a difficult task before them. Mr Cottingham had done a fine job in defence of Mrs Berry, though it has to be acknowledged that not all of his contentions could stand close scrutiny. The witness Ann Dillon was most certain in her memory of going into the surgery on the Saturday morning and finding Edith in the room with her mother. Mr Cottingham, however, had done his best to cast doubt on her testimony, saying that it was gainsaid by Beatrice Hall and by Alice Alcroft. Beatrice Hall, he said, was sure that Edith had never been out of her sight since they arrived in the sitting room. As for Alice Alcroft, who worked in the kitchen, which was situated opposite the sitting room door, it cannot be supposed for a moment that she had her gaze unswervingly on the door. The woman was not there to observe the comings and goings across the corridor, but to help prepare breakfast for several hundred inmates.

  However, although Mrs Berry did indeed have the opportunity to administer poison, there was no evidence that it had happened. She had been seen alone with Edith in the surgery, and she had been seen attempting to give her daughter what she claimed to have been medicine – once a milky-looking liquid in a tumbler, and at another time some mixture which, she said, Dr Patterson had left – but there was nothing to say that those liquids had contained poison. Further, she had shown all the outward signs of being a loving mother, referring to her child as ‘my darling’ and sending for the doctor as soon as he arrived at the workhouse and, later, seeking the help of the workhouse’s resident nursing staff – Lydia Evett of the children’s ward, and Sarah Anderson of the female imbecile ward. Further, what motive did she have for murder? Mr Cottingham had stressed that the £10 paid out on Edith’s death – most of which had gone on the funeral costs – could not possibly have been sufficient reason for a loving mother to carry out such an horrific act.

  Such questions raised by Mr Cottingham must surely have exercised the minds of the magistrates, and there were those who expected them to take considerable time over their deliberations. To the surprise of many in the courtroom, however, they were filing back into the room after only fifteen minutes.

  When they had taken their places once more, the chairman of the bench, Mr John Wild, addressed the hushed assembly. ‘We have given this case our very careful deliberation,’ he said, ‘and we have concluded that the evidence, as laid before us, is not sufficient to warrant sending the prisoner for trial.’

  After his words there was a moment’s silence, and then came an outburst of cheering, with shouts of ‘Hear, hear,’ and ‘Hurrah!’ And in the midst of it all the petite, black-clad, bereaved mother sat and hung her head, fighting back tears.

  The cheers were proof that Mrs Berry had touched the hearts of some in that assembly, but what was going through her mind? Did she, like many in the room, believe that the magistrates’ findings signalled her freedom? Did she, on hearing from all around the demonstrations of support, snatch at a sudden glimpse of hope, and the notion that all was not yet lost?

  Indeed, all was not yet lost, and as the hubbub in the room was suppressed, Joseph Whitaker and George Robinson rose to congratulate Mr Cottingham on his great achievement. Mr Cottingham, however, for all his pleasure on hearing the chairman’s verdict, was under no illusion. He was well aware of the true situation, which was made clear in the press the following day. Said the Chronicle:

  Though the decision of the bench was a dismissal so far as the magisterial proceedings were concerned…the general public, who, as a rule, are not much acquainted with criminal jurisprudence, must not run away with the idea that the accused will be discharged. She still remains in custody, charged on the Coroner’s warrant with the wilful murder of her daughter…

  Indeed it
was so; and while there were many among the spectators that day who believed that Mrs Berry would now be set free, Mr Cottingham knew that his victory marked only the second battle in the war. With the coroner’s warrant still out against his client, the magistrates’ failure to find a prima facie case against her counted for nought. Had the inquest’s jury acquitted her beforehand, the magistrates’ findings would have seen her set free, but the inquest’s verdict took precedence. Therefore there could be no question as regards the outcome: Elizabeth Berry must be sent for trial.

  And so there it was: the prisoner was to go to trial with one judgement against her and another in her favour – an unusual situation, to say the least – though it would be as nothing to the most remarkable situation which was shortly to arise.

  *

  A herb used in medicine as a laxative, in use from ancient times.

  †

  A laxative powder containing rhubarb, magnesia and ginger. No longer sold.

  *

  About a quarter of a pint.

  14

  Repercussions

  As to how Mrs Berry’s situation was generally observed following the outcome of the magistrates’ hearing, there were many who set far greater store by the findings of the bench than by a jury whose twelve good men and true were chosen from the public at large. And by this token it was widely believed that the magistrates’ findings were the best guide to the outcome of the forthcoming trial, and that the prisoner had an excellent chance of being acquitted.

  As we have seen, however, no such sanguine thoughts were shared by her counsel. While Mr Cottingham and Mr Whitaker must have been encouraged by the magistrates’ conclusion, they were only too well aware of another dark process at work. This, of course, was the investigation that was taking place into the death of Mrs Finley, and what part in it her daughter might have played. The result of that investigation, they knew, could have the most dynamic effect on their client’s future.