After an adjournment for lunch Mr Cottingham went on to develop his theme, that the girl’s symptoms were not those of having received repeated doses of poison, but from natural causes, insisting that she had not been a healthy child, but had in fact been ‘a tubercular subject’. It was important, he said, to look into her history. ‘Her father died after a few years’ illness, of emaciation, and of her two brothers, one died from dentition, and the next brother, older than the girl, was brought home ill from Blackpool with the little girl herself, both suffering from an affection of the stomach and bowels. The boy died, and the girl recovered.’ He then suggested that the coconut chips the girl had eaten, ‘which were exceedingly indigestible’, might have caused her illness.
His Lordship: ‘Do you say that as an expert?’
‘No, my Lord,’ Mr Cottingham replied, ‘only from common sense; and I say, with the greatest respect, I am not giving evidence.’
Having politely put his Lordship in his place, Mr Cottingham went on to ask how the child could have taken sulphuric acid without complaining. It was a poison ‘which would pass down the throat like liquid fire’, he said, ‘yet she made no complaint of pain in her throat until near her death…It is physically impossible that she could have disguised the pain – pain that would make her scream to swallow the acid.’
After suggesting that some of the girl’s symptoms might have been due to one or other of the medicines that Dr Patterson had prescribed, he said to the jury, ‘Supposing you had it proved beyond doubt that the child’s death was the result of the ingestion of sulphuric acid, there must remain the question: Did that woman – the prisoner, whose conduct had always been that of an affectionate, solicitous mother, administer it?’ It had not been possible for her to have administered poison, he said. Beatrice Hall never left her friend’s side that morning, and Alice Alcroft would very likely have seen the child going into the surgery with her mother. As for Ann Dillon’s testimony that she had seen Edith and Mrs Berry in the surgery at 9.45, there was no evidence to support this.
Coming again to motive, he suggested that the only possible motive anyone could cite must be greed, but how could that be attributed, ‘when all that was gained was one small insurance pay-out – which had been consumed by the cost of the funeral?’ As for the proposed £100 insurance on the child sought by Mrs Berry, it was not accepted and no premium was paid in respect of such insurance. So, he asked, ‘What motive could transform a mother into a monster so horrid, so detestable, that a crowd of common criminals would move aside to allow her to pass with a shudder of reprehension? I cannot conceive of a woman so detestable, so much a monster, as to accomplish the death of her own child under such circumstances.’
He had one final question for the jury. ‘If that poor child could return from the grave,’ he said, ‘would she come to judgement as an accuser and in vengeance upon her mother, or would she come to judgement as a ministering angel proclaiming the innocence of a mother who had always been so solicitous and so anxious for her welfare?’
The ending of Mr Cottingham’s address brought a burst of applause, which was swiftly silenced. It was three o’clock. Now Mr M’Connell rose to speak for the Crown.
It was his duty, he said to the jury, having laid the evidence before them, to make his remarks upon the issues raised by his learned friend and then leave the matter of the decision to them. The first of the issues was whether the death of the deceased was caused by poison and, next, whether that poison was administered knowingly by the prisoner. Mr Cottingham, he said, had challenged the prosecution to show motive for the alleged crime, but while no motive could be commensurate for a case like that before them, neither was it the duty of the prosecution to prove motive.
On the subject of evidence, he pointed out that they had the evidence of Dr Patterson and Dr Robertson, in addition to the symptoms which were seen during life, and the appearances after death. And if they did not believe the evidence of those two medical men they should remember that it was followed up by that of Dr Harris. ‘You will have to ask yourselves,’ he said, ‘if Dr Harris was right when he said that death was not the result of natural causes, but the result of a corrosive or irritant poison. And if that is so, the question arises as to who administered the poison.’
He came then to the matter of opportunity. ‘If it is proved,’ he said, ‘that the prisoner had sufficient opportunity to have administered it, I think it must weigh with you…It must also enter into your consideration whether, if there was poison administered, and if on two occasions, the poison was the same both times. As to the first occasion there is no direct evidence, but there is circumstantial evidence. The prisoner was seen in the surgery with the deceased at a quarter to ten on the Saturday morning, and shortly after that the child was taken ill.’ There was plenty of opportunity for the mother to administer to the child anything, the child believing that it was administered for her good, and the whole circumstances – the appearance of the blister on the mouth, and the continued vomiting – showed that something deleterious had been administered. As to what the deleterious agent was, the only person who had constant access to the deceased was the prisoner, and all throughout, neither the vomit nor the other matter was preserved. ‘I say,’ he said, ‘that with her proper motherly feelings she ought to have preserved them, in order to see what was actually the matter with her child, and send for alleviatives. The prisoner had full access to the whole of the drugs and poison in the infirmary, and she knew, to a great extent, their use.’ Having looked at all the facts, he had to ask the jury to say whether it was made out that the child had come by her death by poison. ‘And if you think it made out,’ he said, ‘that the prisoner’s was the hand that knowingly administered the drug, then it is for you to say so. I ask you to give it your most serious and careful consideration, and unless you have reasonable doubt you are bound by your oath to do your duty.’
With these words Mr M’Connell rested the case for the prosecution. The time was 3.25, and it now came to the judge to begin his summing up.
After saying that he would not enter into the details of the case, Mr Justice Hawkins said that they had now arrived almost at the last stage of the ‘painful and unfortunate case’. In a reference to the criticism made of Dr Patterson, he said they were not there to try the doctor, but the prisoner at the bar. ‘If the prisoner is guilty,’ he said, ‘a more foul and abominable crime could not be committed by man or woman, and if you are satisfied from the evidence that she committed it, no one could deserve punishment more.’ The first question that the jury had to answer was whether the child had died from the effects of a corrosive poison, and if they found that she had, the next was whether the prisoner had wilfully administered it. If they found both questions answered in the affirmative, then she was guilty of the crime.
Going into the history of the case, he spoke of the child coming with her mother and her friend to spend a few days at the workhouse and then being taken ill, which illness, according to the prisoner, was an acute stoppage of the bowels due to her having eaten a hearty supper the night before. ‘Is there any evidence that there was any hearty supper?’ he asked. ‘I must confess that I have seen none.’
In order to prove that the child had died from poison, he said, they must look at the evidence of the medical gentlemen, Drs Patterson, Robertson and Harris, and consider whether their accounts agreed with their own view of things. Following the post-mortem, which revealed on the gullet a black, corroded patch and streaks of corrosion, Dr Harris said he saw no trace of death from natural causes, and concluded that the child had died from the administration of a corrosive poison, and Drs Patterson and Robertson agreed. ‘If you can see any reason to doubt the doctors’ evidence, you must give the benefit of the doubt to the prisoner. But if, adopting the view of the medical gentlemen, you come to the conclusion that the poor girl did die of poison administered to her, then you have to ask yourselves whether the prisoner administered it.’ He then said that if poison h
ad been administered then it must have been by the mother. It was never suggested that anybody else would have given it. The prisoner was with the girl for the greater part of that Saturday morning. Another question was whether the marks around the girl’s mouth were a result of corrosive poison, and whether they were caused by the prisoner. ‘The child herself couldn’t do it,’ he said. ‘She was on her back, and couldn’t stir. And no one suggested that little Beatrice or any of the women were so cruelly minded as to take the poor little thing’s life.’
Speaking of motive, he said, ‘It has been said that the prisoner had no motive. But it is quite impossible to expect to find adequate motive for a diabolical crime like this. Though in some cases there would appear to be no motive, you must depend upon it that in all great crimes committed by people in their senses there is always a motive.’ Referring to the financial position of the prisoner, he said that a proposal for the mutual assurance of her and the deceased for £100 had been refused, but the prisoner had not been aware of that fact, or, at all events, had not been informed of the refusal.
He then referred to the testimony of the Chief Constable to whom the prisoner said that the child was in the habit of being constipated, and was ailing at the time she came to the workhouse. Mrs Sanderson, however, had denied the truth of those assertions, he said, and asked, ‘Why attribute to Mrs Sanderson something she did not say? And why did the prisoner want to make people believe that the child was ill when she left Mrs Sanderson’s charge?’
The only two questions the jury had to take into consideration, he said, drawing now to a close, were whether the child died from poison – it did not matter whether irritant or not – and, if they came to that conclusion, whether that poison was knowingly administered by the prisoner. It all came down to that. ‘It is now for you to do your duty,’ he said. ‘The matter is a serious one. It deeply concerns not only the prisoner, but also the interests of justice. If the prisoner is innocent, or you think the evidence does not satisfy you as to her guilt, she is entitled to be acquitted. But if the evidence before you satisfies you that the dreadful crime imputed to the prisoner was committed by her, then the interests of justice demand that you say so in your verdict.’ He added, as a final instruction, ‘Do not let your verdict be the result of either passion, or prejudice, or sympathy.’
Mr Justice Hawkins had finished.
In the silence following the judge’s final words the jury remained in the box for a minute or two and then rose and left. Following their departure the warders escorted the prisoner from the dock, after which the judge himself withdrew.
It was now almost 5.45. Over the two hours of the judge’s address there were those in the courtroom who had grown weary, allowing their attention to wander. But this had most certainly not been the case with the prisoner. She had remained alert for every minute since her entrance that morning. Said the Chronicle: ‘The prisoner throughout the day maintained the quietest demeanour, never appearing restless, but always sitting in the same posture, occasionally with her right hand ungloved, for the purpose of taking whatever notes of the evidence she thought might be useful to her counsel.’ Also, it was noted, she had appeared to be little affected by the constant attention she received from the spectators. ‘She did not,’ said the Chronicle, ‘throughout the whole of the trial, seem to realize that she was under the gaze of hundreds of curious eyes. Always the same, morning, noon and afternoon, there she sat, leaning back in her chair, one hand crossing the other or sometimes clasping the wrist of the other.’
And her composure had been evident still during the last hours of her trial. All during that Thursday afternoon she had closely watched the proceedings. At times she had showed signs of restlessness, but she had not moved a muscle even when the judge, in his summing up, came to the strongest and most damning part of the prosecution. Here it was observed that instead of looking before her, as she had done hitherto, she looked downwards, gazing fixedly at her gloves. Her composure was so impressive, the Chronicle’s man added, that, ‘one Assize Court official said that of the thirty persons he had seen put upon their trial on the capital charge, he never had seen such a “cool customer” as Mrs Berry was’.
Mrs Berry’s composure was soon to be put to the greatest test.
The jury did not take long about their task. After only ten minutes the judge received word that they had reached a verdict, and he returned at once to the bench. And with the jury in their places again, the prisoner was brought back into the court, walking with a steady step to the chair that had been provided, and taking her seat. The female warder, who had followed her, stationed herself immediately behind the prisoner’s chair. She was followed by the governor of the prison, it being the usual practice for him to be present in the dock when sentence was being passed.
All now were assembled, and there was perfect silence in the courtroom.
‘Gentlemen of the jury,’ said the Clerk of the Assize, addressing the jury in the hush, ‘have you agreed upon your verdict?’
‘We have,’ said the jury’s foreman.
‘Do you find the prisoner guilty of wilful murder or not guilty?’
The foreman: ‘Guilty.’
A murmur of sensation ran through the court, and Mrs Berry, hearing the foreman’s single, damning word, threw her head back and lifted her hands in what appeared to be a gesture of despair. In the same moment the female warder stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. The Clerk then spoke again, this time directly addressing the prisoner. ‘Prisoner at the bar,’ he said, ‘have you anything to say why the court should not proceed to pass sentence of death upon you, according to the law?’
At the question Mrs Berry rose from her seat and took a step forward. Then, with the court hearing her voice clearly for the first time in the four days of the trial, she replied in a firm, though somewhat emotional tone, ‘I may be found guilty, but the whole world cannot make me guilty.’ She stepped back and resumed her seat, and all eyes then turned to His Lordship as the black cap was placed upon his wig.
‘Elizabeth Berry,’ he said solemnly, ‘the law of this country knows but one punishment for the crime of murder. The crime of which the jury have just now found you guilty – a murder so cold-blooded, so merciless and so cruel, in causing a poor little child, whom you gave birth to, to suffer so much pain, and so much agony, and whose sufferings you have witnessed so callously – passes all belief. The law for your crime demands of me that I should pass upon you the sentence of death, and in doing so I beseech you, during the few days that remain to you here upon this earth, to endeavour to forget this world and all its belongings, and prepare yourself to meet the Almighty God, from whom alone you can hope for pardon of your great sin. The sentence of the court upon you is that you be taken to the place from whence you came, and from thence to a lawful place of execution, that there you be hung by your neck till you be dead, and that when you are dead your body be buried in the precincts of the prison within the walls of which you shall be confined until you are executed. And may the Lord God Almighty have mercy on your soul.’
The Chronicle reported that following the judge’s words the prisoner, attended by the female warder, and appearing ‘unmoved, walked out of the dock and down the steps unassisted’. She was then led away to the cells.
The trial was over, and it remained only for the judge to thank the jury, to which he added his regret that he could not award them some compensation for their patience and attention. What he could do, however, he said, would be to see that they were not called upon to serve for the next four years.
The Assizes then were formally closed.
18
After the Trial
Immediately following the closing of the trial several of the country’s newspapers offered up their comments on the business. The Manchester Guardian wrote:
…That a woman should deliberately inflict upon her young child a lingering and agonising death; that she should stand by with an impassive countenance whilst
her victim slowly succumbed to the effects of the poison she had administered, and that this atrocity should have been perpetrated for the sake of a paltry sum of money – ought not to be believed except upon the clearest and most convincing evidence. Unhappily such evidence was forthcoming, and the jury which tried Elizabeth Berry had no hesitation whatever in pronouncing her guilty of the foul crime laid to her charge. Most unfortunately for the fair fame of this country, it has been found again and again that women are ready to assume the role of the secret poisoner from the greed of gain. The grave had hardly closed over the woman Britland – who had without doubt poisoned several persons, two of them her nearest relatives – when this terrible crime at Oldham was perpetrated. The case becomes more horrible when we remember that even now an inquiry is pending as to the death of the convict Berry’s own mother, whom she is suspected, with very good reason, of having poisoned.
From the London Evening News:
To most people it would seem incredible that a mother should under any circumstances be willing to put her own daughter to a painful death. But when we come to the question of motive we seem to sink to the very deepest depth of shame and horror. That a sane woman should deliberately, and in cold blood, murder her own daughter for an utterly paltry consideration like a small insurance on the child’s life, would be altogether incredible if it were not so clearly established. Unfortunately, there is a terrible suspicion present in the public mind that these awful poisoning cases are much more frequent than the comparatively rare discoveries of them would suggest. Students of these terrible records will also find that in the vast majority of cases the criminals are women, whilst their victims are trusting, affectionate, and helpless dependents.
The London Evening Mail was not so sure that greed was the motive:
There Must Be Evil Page 17
