While the magistrates had been conducting their inquiry, arrangements were being made for the prisoner’s trial. It had previously been assumed that this would take place at the Assizes in Manchester, but this proved not to be practicable and Liverpool was announced as the venue. And the authorities wasted not a minute. The night following the conclusion of the magistrates’ hearing would be the last that Mrs Berry would spend in the Oldham police cell. Next morning, Saturday 29 January, carrying just a few belongings, she left the town on the last stage of her journey. The man from the Chronicle was there to report on her departure, and also – on a very positive note – to remark on the likelihood of her being given her liberty. Said the paper:
On Saturday morning Mrs Berry, the woman who is charged with causing the death of her daughter by administering poison, left Oldham for Liverpool. She travelled by the 9.28 train from the Central Station, in the charge of Detective Lamb, who, on arriving at Liverpool, handed over his prisoner to the authorities at Walton Prison. As we stated, Mrs Berry stands committed to the Liverpool Assizes under the coroner’s warrant…It is however, probable – seeing that the magistrates acquitted her on Friday – that the grand jury will throw out the bill against her, in which case she will be formally liberated. The business at the Liverpool assizes commences on Friday.
For a few days, as Mrs Berry waited anxiously in her cell at Walton prison, there was little or nothing to report on any further developments in the case. Nonetheless, several of the newspapers ensured that the public would not be starved of copy relating to the matter.
Newspaper readers in the free world are fond of having their say through letters to the editors, and the people of Oldham and its surroundings were no different. With the magistrates’ hearing at an end there were numerous individuals who were eager to share their thoughts and wisdom in connection with the proceedings. One particular letter to the Oldham Evening Chronicle was to cause something of a stir.
Whatever the opinions as to Elizabeth Berry’s guilt or innocence, it was generally acknowledged that her counsel had done excellent work on her behalf before the magistrates. In the course of this Mr Cottingham had tried to cast doubt on Dr Patterson’s professional abilities as exhibited in the tragedy, and generally gave him a hard ride, at one point going so far as to suggest that it had been in his power to save the girl but that he had neglected to do so. And if the doctor had been rattled on the witness stand by Mr Cottingham’s questioning of his fitness in the sad business, his discomfiture wasn’t to finish with the ending of the hearing.
On the Wednesday following the closure of the magistrates’ inquiry, the Chronicle printed a letter from the aforementioned Dr John Kershaw. In giving Mrs Berry his full support, he wasted no time in writing to make it clear that he considered her totally innocent of the charge laid against her and that he regarded Dr Patterson – the man generally acknowledged as having been instrumental in putting her where she was – as the true villain of the piece.
His provocative letter was to become the first in a brief series, which, apart from everything else, suggested that the two doctors, Patterson and Kershaw, were known to one another, and were not perhaps the best of friends.
In his letter, Dr Kershaw brought to the public’s attention Dr Patterson’s prescribing of creosote in Edith’s treatment. This was a matter that had not been fully examined and, even today, as of this writing, there are reports stating, as a matter of fact, that Edith died of creosote poisoning – one writer saying specifically that she died from ‘having creosote put in her tea’. If this was a notion held by some at the time, then Dr Kershaw’s letter was sure to give the belief some added strength. On 30 January, from his home in Sedgley Park, Prestwich, he wrote to the Chronicle, first congratulating the presiding magistrates ‘on the sound sense and judgement they [had] shown in exonerating Mrs Berry from the serious charge brought against her by the Medical Officer of the Oldham Workhouse’, and then proceeding to take that medical officer to task.
In his attack on Dr Patterson and his abilities, Dr Kershaw wrote that the prescribing of creosote and bicarbonate of soda by the doctor was ‘careless and unscientific’. The mixture was much too strong in its proportions, he claimed, and without doubt would have caused the blisters on the girl’s mouth. Therefore, he invited his readers to infer, Dr Patterson might well have been ultimately responsible for the girl’s death.
Dr Kershaw had not, however, done his homework well. What he appears to have missed – either accidentally or intentionally – is the fact that the creosote ordered from the pharmacist early on Sunday afternoon was not delivered until the next morning, long after Edith’s mouth was seen to be blistered, and after Dr Patterson and Dr Robertson had been to see her. That night, finding that the creosote had not been delivered, the two doctors had made up instead a mixture of bismuth and morphia. In support of this, Mrs Berry herself was later to say that she had not used any of the creosote that was eventually delivered.
Notwithstanding the facts, however, Dr Kershaw managed to sow seeds of doubt in the public’s mind. And having done so, he ended his damning letter: ‘With regard to the case in its legal aspect, I have nothing to do, but from motives of humanity, as well as saving the poor woman from the approbation of the uncharitable, I have presumed to place before you a matter which, I believe, has not received that attention which the vital importance of the case has deserved.’
While Dr Kershaw’s misplaced and damaging claim may well have chimed with concerns in other minds, support for Dr Patterson was soon to be forthcoming. The following day the Chronicle published a letter from an Oldham chemist, Mr C. Granville Wood, an Associate of the Pharmaceutical Society, who wrote saying that he himself had ‘made the mixture in the proportions Dr Patterson ordered’ and that the solution was ‘perfectly in accordance with the laws and rules of accurate dispensing’.
Then, on Friday 4 February, a letter came from Dr Patterson himself. Stung – and not surprisingly – by Dr Kershaw’s impugning of his abilities and actions, and not about to take the insults lying down, he wrote:
Sir, – I cannot think that ‘motives of humanity’ alone prompted Dr Kershaw to write that letter in the Chronicle of Wednesday evening. Had his objective been to benefit the ‘poor woman’, I think he could have accomplished it better by observing the usual prudence of silence while the matter is still under judgement. Besides, I understood that Mrs Berry had in Mr Cottingham an experienced and able advocate, to whom Dr Kershaw could have communicated his valuable suggestions, which I will briefly examine.
1. Dr Kershaw says that my prescription of creosote was unscientific. Only in his ignorance. Let him try to make it, and he will find that the solution is perfect. Not only so, but that a perfect solution of creosote in water can be made of greater strength than that prescribed by me. This statement, No. 1, of Dr Kershaw’s is, therefore, untrue.
2. He suggested that the undissolved creosote in the prescription would blister the lips. There was no undissolved creosote in the prescription, for the mixture ordered was never made. But it would not blister the lips. I painted the edges of my own lips with raw creosote, and could not blister them. Further, I painted the lips of four children same age as deceased, with raw creosote, keeping it on for six minutes in each case. I did not put a blister on any one of the four. Statement No. 2, therefore, is also untrue.
3. Dr Kershaw suggests that I had no suspicion of poisoning till Sunday night. On the contrary, I told Mr Cottingham at the Workhouse enquiry that I suspected poisoning on the Saturday evening. Mr Cottingham took care not to ask me a question on that subject at the Town Hall. Statement No. 3 is, therefore, untrue.
Dr Kershaw magnifies the attention paid to the burning of the lips. It is almost impossible to do this. In conjunction with vomiting and purging of blood, and intense pain in the abdomen during life, and a corroded gullet post-mortem, it told the tale pretty well. And now, in conclusion, how has Dr John Kershaw, ‘from motives of humanity’ to t
he ‘poor woman,’ benefited her by writing such an imprudent letter, made up of absurdities and untruths? Alas, dear Dr John! it has been so with you for many years. The rattle of your relatives’ money in your pocket, has, I fear, turned your poor, weak, empty head.
T. PATTERSON.
Dr Patterson’s letter is remarkable in several instances – not least for his closing words in which he openly ridicules and insults his older colleague. There is also the matter of his having used four children as guinea pigs in his efforts to prove that raw creosote would not blister an eleven-year-old’s lips. Of course, no doctor in Britain would dream of doing such a thing today. Also, exactly what Dr Patterson might have done had he been proved wrong and scarred the children for life, he doesn’t say.
In any event, if Dr Patterson hoped that he was having the last word with his sharp reply, he was to be disappointed. Dr Kershaw came smartly back, writing on 6 February:
Sir, – My attention having been drawn to the literary efforts of Thomas Patterson which appeared in your paper of the 4th inst., would, under ordinary circumstances, have provided me with an infinite fund of amusement both in regard to its composition and the veracity, or otherwise, of his statements, were it not for the grave charge now pending, wherein the life of a person is hanging judicially in the balance. The gross vulgarity of his epistle is such that common self-respect and decency forbid me at present entering with him into any correspondence relating to the important matter his suspicions give rise to. Otherwise, it would have given me pleasure in the interests of the ‘poor woman’ to have replied to the alleged ‘untruths’ in my late letter in extenso, and have now only to express my thankfulness that my ‘relations’ have been kind enough to provide me with sufficient of their ‘money’ to exempt me from the tender mercies of the learned graduate of Tulla-na-chree in his capacity of surgeon to the Oldham paupers. – Yours truly,
JOHN KERSHAW
Along with Dr Kershaw’s letter appeared a letter from one Albert Smith who wrote to the Chronicle’s editor saying that in his view not only had Dr Patterson acted by the book, but that Dr Kershaw had acted improperly in his criticism of the doctor. His most excellent letter is well worth quoting here. He wrote:
Sir, – In criminal cases of great importance it not infrequently happens that the conflict of medical opinion is very serious, and great issues are involved; but it seldom happens that one medical man will go so far as to impute gross and almost criminal carelessness to another. This is practically what Dr Kershaw has done by publishing the letter contained in your issue of last Wednesday. Unfortunately for himself, he has not taken the necessary precautions to see that his statements are borne out by facts…Dr Kershaw is probably aware that when there is not sufficient of any liquid in a bottle to pour out so as to measure accurately it is the custom to dissolve out of the bottle by rinsing, and then pour all out together. This is what has been done in the case under notice, and I may say that if Dr Kershaw never did anything worse he may be considered a model of precision. But a more serious error follows, in which Dr Kershaw states that the administration of creosote in the above careless and unscientific way would be sufficient to account for the symptoms exhibited by the child. This is distinctly not true. Dr Patterson has since made experiments on the mucous membrane of the lips and mouth, and did not succeed in raising a blister, much less causing the total blackening of the parts touched by the fluid. Further, the effects of poisoning by creosote are (as stated by Garrod*) convulsions and a death-like stupor, which are almost the exact opposite of violent vomiting and purging, from which the poor child suffered. Dr Kershaw should also have remembered that Dr Harris, who is known throughout the kingdom as a specialist in these matters, was in full possession of the facts, but yet found no trace of the effects of an overdose of creosote. I think you will see, Mr Editor, that Dr Kershaw’s statements are not in accordance with the facts, and that, in an ill-advised moment, he has tried to prejudge the case by flatly laying it down to carelessness on Dr Patterson’s part. It is, in many ways, a pity that such a letter should have seen the light of day. So far from serving the interests of “humanity”, it is likely to do the opposite. It is always unwise to discuss such matters whilst they are still before the courts of laws. Each man has a right to his own opinion, but that opinion should not be expressed to the detriment or embarrassment of others. The case remains for a jury to decide. Dr Kershaw should leave it to them to say how and from what cause the child has died. – I am, yours, &c.,
ALBERT SMITH, A.P.S., M.P.C.
45, Manchester Street.
This letter from Mr Smith appeared, dispassionately and disinterestedly, to set the case right and, it could be hoped, quell any further debate on the efficacy of Dr Patterson’s methods and behaviour. Certainly it would seem to scotch any notion that creosote might have been the cause of Edith Annie’s death, although a few weeks later Mrs Berry herself would be making reference to it in a desperate bid to save her life.
Mrs Berry, of course, sitting cut off from the world in her prison cell, would have known nothing of the letters and the insults being traded by Drs Patterson and Kershaw. She was concerned only in learning of the next step in her fate. To this end, on Monday 7 February, the putative witnesses for the prosecution came to Liverpool, summoned to appear before the gentlemen of the grand jury who, after hearing their testimonies, would conclude whether or not there was sufficient evidence to commit the prisoner Berry for trial.
She, of course, was hoping against hope that, reflecting the views of the magistrates and of much of the press, the grand jury would throw out the bill and set her at her liberty. To her distress, however, she was soon informed that the grand jury had found a true bill against her, and that preparations for her trial would begin forthwith. As to the date of the event, the Chronicle reported on 8 February that it was likely to take place within a week.
*
Archibald Garrod (later Sir Archibald Garrod), 1857-1936, a much respected authority on medicine and medical research.
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New Developments
While the Oldham newspapers were airing the conflicting views of the medical and scientific experts with regard to the prescribing of creosote, more dynamic events were taking place outside the newspapers’ correspondence columns.
As related previously, following inquiries into Mary Ann Finley’s death, application was made for the exhumation of her body. And while there was no official announcement of the application being granted there appeared in the press one or two references to the probability of such an event taking place. As a result, on Monday 31 January two Oldham reporters – one from the Chronicle and the other from the Standard – went to the Moston Roman Catholic Cemetery to make inquiries.
At the cemetery the Brother Superior, Brother Kleppell, told the two men that he hadn’t heard a word about the exhuming of Mrs Finley’s body, except what he had read in the papers. Further, he scorned the idea that it was at all likely to happen. There were twelve bodies in the same grave, he said, and the relatives of the others buried there would most certainly object to any disturbance of it.
The grave in question, the Chronicle’s reporter noted, was a ‘public’ or ‘inscription’ grave, and there had been four bodies put into it before that of Mrs Finley, which meant that seven other bodies would have to be raised before hers could be reached.
Despite Brother Kleppell’s claim that there would be no exhumation, on Tuesday two constables arrived to tell him that Mrs Finley’s body was indeed to be exhumed, and gave him instructions for the necessary preparations. Next evening, when the two reporters returned to the cemetery they learned from an unhappy Brother Kleppell that the exhumation would take place later that night. It was now after eight o’clock and, intent on getting a story, the men ascertained the whereabouts of the grave and then set out in the dark to find it. The area to search was vast, but they eventually espied a small light at a graveside and, drawing closer, saw some gravediggers at work, wi
th two coffins partly covered with earth standing nearby. One of the men, becoming aware of the reporters’ presence, came and asked them their business. When they said they were there to inquire into the exhumation of Mrs Finley’s body, they were told that the coffin had not yet been reached, and that it would be some time before the men ‘struck it’. With this, the reporters decided to leave the men ‘to pursue their gloomy task’, and went away.
The next morning, while the gravediggers, by the light of their lanterns, were still hacking away at the heavy, clay-based earth, further away, in Castleton, a different dramatic activity was taking place.
Well before eight o’clock there had gathered in the Blue Pits Inn, situated on the banks of the Rochdale Canal, a jury of fifteen, summoned for the opening of an inquest into Mary Ann Finley’s death. They were led by the same Coroner Mr F. N. Molesworth who, just the previous month, had presided over the inquest into the death of Edith Annie Berry. Once the jury had been sworn in, they set off, driven in a three-horse brake, for Moston. In the conveyance along with the coroner was Dr Sharples of Rochdale, Superintendent Tindall of the Rochdale division of the county police, and two of Mrs Finley’s erstwhile neighbours, Sarah Wolfenden and Mary Ann Lyons.
In Moston, at nine o’clock, the two Oldham reporters were returning to the cemetery just as the coach containing the inquest party reached the gates. At once the reporters went to the graveside where the men were still working. The Standard’s man, reporting in that evening’s edition of the paper, told of the unusual event:
Four labourers, under the supervision of Brother Kleppell, had been at work for some hours at the grave where Mrs Finley was interred, and…already the six* coffins which had been placed above that of Mrs Finley had been removed. These were placed in a temporary resting place close by, and decently covered with canvas. Owing to the clayey nature of the soil and the quantity of rain which has lately fallen, the work of excavating was very laborious, and could only be accomplished slowly. Soon after the arrival of the visitors from Castleton Mrs Finley’s coffin was reached by the workers in the grave, and the name plate detached and handed out. This having been washed was found to bear the following inscription:
There Must Be Evil Page 12
