SUFFOLK LENT ASSIZES.
At three o’clock on Saturday last Lord Chief Justice Campbell arrived at Bury St. Edmund’s by the train from Norwich. From the station his lordship was escorted to the court house by the usual retinue of the High Sheriff, J. H . Lloyd Anstruther, Esq., when the Commission was opened in the customary manner. Mr. Justice Crompton had not sufficiently recovered to be able to attend the circuit. Mr. Sergeant Adams, who had officiated at Norwich, therefore continued to discharge the duties which the learned Judge was unable to fulfil. On Sunday the Judges attended Divine service at the church of St. Mary, which was inconveniently filled in every part, in consequence of St. James’ church being closed. An excellent sermon was preached by the High Sheriff’s chaplain, the Rev. W. H. Deane, rector of Hintlesham.
Wednesday, March 24.
The Court was opened this morning precisely at nine o’clock. Though it was known that one of the more serious cases would be taken, yet there was no peculiar excitement.
MURDER AT THRANDESTON.
John Mickleburgh, 41, was charged with the murder of Mary Baker, at Thrandeston.
The prisoner ascended the flight of steps and took his station in the dock with an elastic step. He was dressed in a brown frock coat, and appearing perfectly collected in his demeanour, pleaded “Not Guilty” in a firm tone of voice. In health he appeared to be considerably better than when examined in July last before the Magistrates.
Mr. Dasent and Mr. Bulwer appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Prendergast, Q.C., and Mr. Palmer defended the prisoner.
Mr. Dasent stated the case. They were about to take into consideration one of the most serious cases which could fall to the lot of a jury to investigate. They would consider it, he was assured, with every desire to do justice to the public and the prisoner at the bar. He need not enlarge upon the magnitude of the offence further than to say that they would require very clear and satisfactory evidence that the prisoner committed the act from which the death of the deceased arose. He thought upon this point they would have very little doubt indeed. The circumstances under which the charge arose were very clear, and short, and simple, and unless his learned friends could answer the facts, he was afraid it would be their duty to say that the deceased came by her death at the hands of the prisoner, and consequently that he was guilty of the charge. After stating that the deceased had been servant to the prisoner, who was a married man, with family, and detailing the facts, the learned Counsel called.
William Bootman, examined by Mr. Bulwer. He said, I knew the deceased. On the 31st July, she was in the service of the prisoner. I was keeping company with her at that time, as her sweetheart. The prisoner is a farmer, and lived at Thrandeston, in Suffolk. He is a married man, and his house stands in the village. He has three children to the best of my knowledge. Thrandeston fair was held on the 31st July last, on a Thursday. I met the deceased Mary Baker in the fair. She was dairymaid, and did the household work of the prisoner, she was the only maid-servant in the house, The prisoner occupied between 40 and 50 acres. I met Mary Baker in the fair between 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I went with her to Eastaugh’s booth, where refreshments were sold. Whilst we were there, the prisoner, with John French and Clara French his wife, and sister to Mary Baker, came in. They all came in together. I had previously seen the prisoner in the fair, about 100 yards from the booth. I spoke to him before I entered the booth. He asked us to go and have something to drink, and invited Mary Baker and the whole of the party in. Whilst in the booth the prisoner ordered half a pint of wine, and I drank once with him. I ordered a glass of brandy-and-water on my own account, and I took part of it with my friends. I did not ask the prisoner to drink. We all remained in the booth about half an hour. I went into the booth about a quarter of an hour after I met the prisoner.
By the Judge : I sat in the booth with Mary Baker, and we were on friendly terms with each other.
By Mr. Bulwer : That afternoon we went to Barrett’s bough-house, a cottage for the sale of beer.
By the Judge ; I and Mary Baker left the booth together.
By Mr. Bulwer : We went into the kitchen at Barrett’s. Adjoining the kitchen there is a small back-house, communicating with the kitchen by a door. As you enter the kitchen from the fair, the back-house door faces you on your left hand. A clock stood in the corner by the back-house door. There was a form or chairs between that door and the clock. I and Mary Baker went and sat next the clock, she sitting nearest the door. We had not been there more than a few minutes before the two French’s came in. John French sat on the end of the table, between the clock and the window, the table being on the left hand as you enter the room. I did not see the prisoner come in. In about 20 minutes after the French’s came in, my attention was drawn to Mary Baker. She cried out, “I'm dead - I'm dead!” I then saw the prisoner. He stood before her with an open knife in his hand. He was about half-a-yard from the deceased. I assisted Mary Baker into the back-house, and then upstairs.
Cross-examined by Mr. Prendergast : I saw the prisoner pay for two half-pints of wine.
By the Judge : He had ordered two half-pints.
By Mr. Prendergast : The whole party pertook of the wine, including Mary Baker. A friend or two, who sat by, also partook of the brandy-and-water.
By the Judge : The prisoner had no part of it, but Mary Baker drank a portion.
John French examined by Mr. Dasent : I knew Mary Baker. I married her sister. I live in Diss, within three miles of Thrandeston. Mary Baker had been in the prisoner’s service a year. She then left, and remained away a year. She then went back at Michaelmas,1850, and remained there until her death. I was at the prisoner’s house only once, but Mary Baker did not live there at the time. I know William Bootman. I know that he was courting Mary Baker, and had been doing so half-a-year. I remember going to the last Thrandeston fair, where I was joined by my wife. The fair is held upon a green in the village. On one side a road leads from Mellis, and meets another on the side of the green leading to Palgrave. The road also leads to Barrett’s bough-house. The fair is held chiefly in booths on each side of these roads. I knew Eastaugh’s booth at the fair. This was about a quarter of a mile from Barrett’s bough-house. I ,remember meeting Mary Baker at the fair. She was with her sister, my wife. This was about 4 or 5 o’clock. After that, I saw Bootman, and my wife, and Mary Baker. I first saw the prisoner in Eastaugh’s booth in the fair. My wife and Mary Baker went to show me where the prisoner was, and Bootman was with me then. We were all in the booth near 7 o’clock. We had something to drink.
By the Judge : We had but very little conversation with the prisoner, but we were all friendly together. I did not observe that the prisoner had any conversation with Mary Baker. They did not sit down.
By Mr. Dasent : Mary Baker, my wife, and Bootman, left me and the prisoner together in the booth. My wife, after being absent a quarter of an hour, came back to me, and then my wife, myself, and Mickleburgh were in the booth together, and we staid there half an hour. We then went into the fair again. Mickleburgh left me and my wife there. He said he wanted to speak to my wife. I stepped forward, but I did not hear what took place. My wife then came up to me again. After she joined me, we both went to Barrett’s house, and Mickleburgh turned back into the fair. When Bootman and Mary Baker left Eastaugh’s booth, we knew where they were going. My wife told me, in Mickleburgh’s hearing, that they were going to Barrett’s house. Mickleburgh and I were sitting together at the time. After this I went to Barrett’s. I found Bootman and Mary Baker there, sitting between the clock and the back door. I and my wife, went near the clock, my wife sat down by the side of Mary Baker. I sat on a small table in front, and on the same side near the clock. I did not see the prisoner come in. The room was full of people. I had been there perhaps twenty minutes, or half an hour when I heard a shriek from my wife and Mary Baker. Upon hearing this, I turned my head, and saw Mickleburgh standing up with a knife in his hand. He was near the clock. The knife was open. I got off the table, and caught hold of his arms behind. Barrett came up and laid hold of him too, and we fell to the ground. We were all three down, and the knife was taken from the prisoner by Borrett. He was then placed upon a seat where he was kept until the arrival of a policeman. Whilst this was going on, Mary Baker was taken into a back room, and thence up stairs. Whilst I had hold of Mickleburgh, I said, “Mickleburgh, whatever do you mean by what you have done?” He said, “I meant to do it, I went and bought the knife on purpose.” Shortly after this, a police constable came.
By the Judge : He said to the policeman “You may take me, and do what you like with me, I have done what I intended to do, and I hope I have done it effectually.”
Cross-examined by Mr. Prendergast : Mary Baker and my wife took me to Eastaugh’s booth Bootman was with Mary Baker at the time. We all had a little wine together. I had one glass.
Clara French, examined by Mr. Bulwer : I am wife of the last witness. Mary Baker was my sister. On the 31st July last, I went to Thrandeston fair. I went to Mickleburgh’s for my sister.
By the Judge : Mickleburgh’s house was about half a mile from the fair.
By Mr. Bulwer: I left Mickleburgh’s house with my sister about half past three to go to the fair. I met Bootman there, about half an hour afterwards. In the course of five minutes we met the prisoner near Eastaugh’s booth. The prisoner asked my sister what time she was to get home. She replied, “at half-past nine.” He told me to tell her to get home at nine. He said he wanted to see her in the meadow, and desired me to tell her that. I told her of it a few minutes afterwards. I had no more conversation with Mickleburgh before I went into the booth. He walked in with us. He did not ask us to go in. We all went in together, and we sat down to have something to drink. Mickleburgh ordered brandy-and-water, and two half-pints of wine. He offered some wine to Mary Baker, and she drank. He seemed no ways different to her in manner than to me.
By the Judge : He seemed friendly to her and to me.
By Mr. Bulwer : After drinking the wine, Bootman, myself, and my sister, left the booth together and walked about in the fair. After some time, I met Bootman and my husband, and they went back to the booth. Mary Baker kept with me, and we went back to the booth some time afterwards, to see after Bootman and my husband. When we entered the booth , Mickleburgh was there. I did not stop. Mary Baker and Bootman came out too. Mickleburgh and my husband remained for a little time, and we waited outside. I did not tell my husband where I was going. My husband and Mickleburgh joined us outside. Bootman and Mary Baker had then gone to Barrett's house. My husband, myself, and Mickleburgh then walked out in the fair in the direction of Barrett’s. My husband knew where we were to go.
By the Judge : I do not think it was ever stated in Mickleburgh’s hearing that we were all to meet at Barrett’s house.
By Mr. Bulwer : Mickleburgh went with me until I got off the fair green. Here he said, “Mor, I'll be revenged.” When he said this, he went back to the fair, and I and my husband went on to Barrett’s. We found Mary Baker and Bootman there. I sat just by the back-house door, close by mv sister. I was nearest to the door, until I got up and spoke to my husband. In about twenty minutes, my attention was attracted to my sister. I saw Mickleburgh take his hand from her side. He had a knife open in it. I heard my sister shriek out. I cannot recollect any more, I was so scared.
Cross-examined by Mr. Prendergast: We met the prisoner in the fair, and then there was this talk - when he asked the question where Mary Baker was to be found. The prisoner, Bootman, my sister, and myself were in the booth at the time.
By the Judge : It was then that the prisoner spoke about the meadow. My sister heard what he said about that, but Bootman did not, though he was in the booth at the time. He was then talking with some one else.
By Mr. Prendergast : Then I, and Bootman, and my sister, left the booth. I then met my husband. Bootman and my husband went back to the prisoner at Eastaugh’s booth, but I did not go with them. The wine was had when we were in the booth the first time.
Charles Barrett, examined by Mr. Dasent : I kept a bough-house at Thrandeston fair, on the 31st July last. Whilst I was putting a horse into a cart in front of my house in the evening, I heard a shrieking in-doors. It was sometime between seven and eight. I went into the kitchen. It was full of company, and there was much confusion. I heard some one shriek “Take the knife away from him! take the knife away from him!” John French had hold of the prisoner. I caught hold of Mickleburgh and French, and Mickleburgh and I fell down. I then saw a knife in Mickleburgh’s hand. It was open, and I took it from him, and shutting it, put it into my pocket, and afterwards gave it to a policeman.
Mr. Prendergast : Did you consider that the prisoner was intoxicated? Witness : He did not appear to be much so.
John Sillett, examined by Mr. Bulwer : I was on duty at Thrandeston fair on the 31st July last. About 8 o’clock in the evening I was called into Barrett’s house. Barrett gave me a knife which I now produce. I saw the prisoner. He was in custody of policeman Baker. I fetched Mr. Miller, the surgeon, who was in the village, and I then went back to the prisoner. He said, “I wish my arm had been a little stronger, and l would have given her four inches more of it.” I then cautioned him that if he said any thing to criminate himself, I should use it as evidence against him. He then said, “I have done what I intended to do.” I left him for a short time. Upon my return to him, I heard him say, [a gross phrase, importing - I do all I can to satisfy her desires, and if she will seek a low fellow] “I must give her cold steel. I will be revenged.”
Mr. Prendergast : Did not he appear to be so much the worse for liquor? Witness : He did.
Mr. Dasent : Did he appear to you to know what he was about? Witness : Yes.
The Judge : Why do you say he appeared to be much the worse for liquor - how do you form that judgment? Witness : From his general conduct, my lord, during the time I was with him; his conduct was like that of a drunken man.
John Baker, examined by Mr. Dasent : I am a policeman stationed at Mendlesham. I was called into Barrett’s a few minutes before eight. I found Mickleburgh there, and I took him into my custody from the witness French, who had charge of him. He was sitting quietly on a settle by the side of French. I told him he was charged with having stabbed a young woman, and that I should take him into custody. He said, “You may take me, and do what you please with me. I have done what I intended to do, and I hope I have done it to affection.” He was very much excited, and certainly the worse for liquor. Almost immediately afterwards he said, “I wish my arm had been a little stronger, and I would have given her 3 or 4 inches more of it.” Mr. French, a magistrate, was sent for. After this, the prisoner said, “I have always done what I liked with her, ever since she has been living at mine; [a very gross allusion followed] and I mean it for revenge.” When Sillett came in, he said, “Ha, Sillett boy, you may take me, and do what you please with me,” and repeated the expression about his wish as to the strength of his arm. In the course of the night I had charge of him in the station-house. He said, “I went to a stall in the fair, and purchased the knife. I gave two shillings for it. When I went into Charles Barrett’s Mary Baker was sitting there. She said, “Ha, Master, here am I.’ I said, ‘Ha, Mor, you shan't be long before you have this piece of steel.’ I afterwards went into the backhouse, and opened the knife, and when it was opened, it was like a dagger. If she gets well, and doesn't come to my proposals I have got the best brace of pistols the world can produce.” He then stated, “On Wednesday my wife went to Diss, and Mary Baker slept with me at night.”When he said he went into the backhouse, and that the knife looked like a dagger, he added, “I hope she will die.” On the following morning his wife came to see him. I heard him say to her, “You have suspected me before now you know all about it; if you had died a year or two ago this would not have occurred.” When I first took him into custody, I searched him, and found a small pocket knife on his person. Upon this, he said, “You've got my knife?” I said, “Yes!” He said, “That’s not the knife I did it with - that was not long enough for her.” When this conversation took place, he was in the same state as he had been all the evening. I was with him the whole night. He appeared to be the same as when I first took him. His wife came in the morning at six o’clock.
Mr. Prendergast : He appeared in the same state, excited and the worse for drink, as you supposed? Witness : Yes.
William Sayer, examined by Mr. Bulwer : I am a hawker, and was at Thrandeston fair with my stall on the 31st July last. I had only one knife of the sort now produced for sale that day. There might have been other stalls at which such knives were sold, but I don't know that there were. I sold a knife of this description in the evening between 7 and 8 o’clock. I don’t know to whom I sold it, but the price was two shillings. I sold it to a man. I cannot say whether the prisoner was the person. The man tendered half-a-crown, and I gave him sixpence back.
Mr. W. W. Miller, examined by Mr. Dasent : I am a surgeon, residing at Eye. I was at Thrandeston on the fair night, on the 31st July last. I was called in to see a woman who had been stabbed at Barrett's house. I found her up-stairs, lying on a bed. I did not observe any blood upon her external clothes, but in assisting to undress her I found some blood upon her shift. I found a small wound on the lower part of the left side of the chest. It was about half-an-inch in length. This was in the evening, at 8 o’clock. She died next day about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. On the following Monday I made a post-mortem examination. Mr. Cuthbert, of Mendlesham, and Mr. Head, of Stradhroke, assisted. I examined the wound, and found it penetrated the lower part of the left side of the chest between the eighth and ninth ribs. It passed through the diaphragm into the cavity of the body. It passed through the spleen. There was a great effusion of blood. There was also blood between the folds of the mesentery. The wound was between four and five inches in depth. The wound might have been produced by such an instrument as this knife. The wound was the cause of death.
Elizabeth French, examined by Mr. Bulwer. I knew Mary Baker. I was at Barrett’s house on the night of Thrandeston fair. I assisted Mary Baker, after she was wounded, up-stairs. I was present when Mr. Miller, surgeon, attended. I was with her until her death. I saw the wound, and Mary Baker was the person who died.
This was the case for the prosecution. During the foregoing proceedings, the prisoner remained perfectly firm and composed. The Jury retired for a few minutes during which the prisoner was accommodated with a seat in a corner of the dock. He looked around the Court occasionally, as if endeavouring to recognise some person amongst the audience.
Mr. Prendergast addressed the Jury on behalf of the prisoner : The Jury had certainly heard, on the part of the prosecution, a most melancholy and dreadful narration, and he had endeavoured, in the course of the case, not to aggravate the horrors of it, or the sufferings of the persons who had appeared before them as witnesses, by putting any questions which appeared unnecessary, for the details of the story as regards the proof of the act committed by the prisoner appeared pretty clear. With regard to some circumstances preceding the occurrence, there were little differences in the evidence, but nothing that was material, and that could not be easily accounted for by those who knew the proceedings at a country fair, and also by the circumstances that so horrible a matter occurring would have a tendency to shake the recollection of witnesses, and prevent its being so accurate as it otherwise would be. The defence for the prisoner would be one rather arising out of those facts, and depending upon them. The defence was, that the act itself was one of a series, which would go to establish that the prisoner was a person who, by the hand of God, had been placed under such circumstances as not to be responsible for his conduct. A defence of this kind would be listened to at first, no doubt, with great distrust; it was hardly possible for a jury, who had heard the frightful narration of the death of this unfortunate person, hurried into eternity without any fault of hers, not to be actuated by a desire to do justice on the party who had actually wrought so foul a crime. But it was frequently necessary that a Jury should endeavour to get rid of and restrain such a feeling as much as possible, and to ascertain whether there might not be a milder way of looking at the act, so as to reconcile it with the innocence of the party accused. If it were possible for the Jury to come to the conclusion that, although the prisoner committed the act, the state of his mind was such that he was not answerable for his conduct, that would be a conclusion favourable to human nature, and one which ought to be courted, rather than avoided. Therefore, on the part of the prisoner, he respectfully requested a hearing for the defence about to be made for him; and he believed he should be able to establish, beyond all doubt, that the prisoner was at the time in such a state as not to be responsible for his conduct. They were aware that, in former times, in this and other countries in Europe, very many persons had been convicted, who had committed the particular act with which they were charges, but numbers of whom had been sacrificed, not to justice, but to cruelty and revenge under the guise of justice. They were persons who had been deprived of reason, and who were therefore not responsible to God or to man; they were sometimes put to the most exquisite tortures and deprived of liberty and life under the most horrible circumstances, while at the same time it was well known that they were utterly incapable in morals and in law of committing the offence, not being responsible. They would remember what took, place some years ago in a neighbouring country, where a person, by whose hand one of the first monarchs in Europe fell, was no doubt guilty of the act; but how frightful it was to read the horrible details of his suffering - how horrible to reflect that It was proved before the Judges who tried him that he had not his reason, and from the lapse of it was incapable of being guilty of the crime; but, instead of being acquitted on that ground, he suffered a dreadful death by tortures indescribable. With regard to a defence on the ground of want of reason, it was one which, if established, was one of the strongest kind and of the best description, shewing that a party did not commit the crime, being In such a capacity that he could not do so. Such a defence, he had the greatest confidence, would be established on the part of the poor man at the bar, who had submitted himself to take his trial this day. In the first place, he should lay before the Jury a very considerable quantity of evidence, showing almost the history of this man's life, and he believed he should be able to satisfy them very soon Indeed, that the tale of his madness was not got up for the purposes of to-day, but that he had been considered by the persons near and about him as different from other men; and he should show from his manner from an early period of his life, that he was not responsible for his acts, but was regarded as mad and deranged. He should establish, in the first place, that, unfortunately for the prisoner, he was the child of a person who herself was in a state either of lunacy or insanity, or something nearly approaching to it, and was in the habit of conducting herself in a manner utterly irreconcilable with reason, sometimes spending hours together, sometimes whole days, by going Into a field, and sitting in a dry ditch without any assignable motive. This peculiarity had been observed by the labourers; and the mother’s habits appear to be transmitted to the son, and showed themselves in him with ten-fold force. He should prove by a great many witnesses who had a most intimate knowledge of the prisoner - some of them having been in his employ - that he was a farmer. It might be urged by the prosecution that he was able to conduct his farm. Generally it was so; he did manage to some extent, and when his particular fits of madness were not on him, he had reason enough and regularity of conduct sufficient to conduct his farm. Sometimes it would be found that he gave orders, and afterwards was utterly unconscious of having given them; sometimes he directed ploughing, and afterwards asked why they were done. He should show in consequence or this madness, for it was nothing short of that, that he was sometimes entirely ignorant of times and seasons, often mistaking day and night. Sometimes when it was cold, in the middle of winter, and dark, he had called up his servants, telling them to rise, as they ought to know that the sun was scorching hot; he had done this at one, two, three, or four o’clock in the morning. Sometimes he had alarmed his house and servants by stating that the cattle were trespassing in the grounds. All these were the results of that strong maniacal affection of mind with which he was troubled ; and would show beyond all doubt that his habits were those of a man certainly not possessed of the faculty of reason. He had about fifty or sixty acres of land; and the Jury knew the habits of persons in this situation. What would they think of the conduct of the prisoner when he told them he was in the habit of going to a particular piece of ground, walking about it an hour or two without any particular object in view, no person pretending or having the folly to ask him what he was about, for it was well understood he could not give a reasonable account of his conduct? He had fits, which were sometimes called high and sometimes low; sometimes he was full of animal spirits, raving and excited, so as not to be bearable by his friends - sometimes, and soon afterwards, he was in a depressed state of mind, sitting for hours and sometimes for days together, in his chair, hardly taking notice of things around him; he would be unwashed, neglectful of his person, his beard being suffered to grow, his stockings down, his shoes untied, and his whole appearance that of a person of unsound mind. During these times no attempt to speak to him was made on the part of his neighbours, and he was represented by his wife, who would say he was not capable of attending to business and should not be troubled with questions. In order to show that the defence was not set up for the purpose of this day, he should call a witness, to whose sister prisoner paid his addresses, and who, knowing bis state of mind, resolved that his sister should not marry him if he could prevent It; and in consequence he took means to prevent the marriage, sending his sister away and declining all connection with the prisoner, who was otherwise a desirable match, being possessed of 100 or 150 acres of land. He paid his addresses, or tried to do so, to the sister of the person, who unfortunately for herself, married him ; that sister declined his addresses, and he should show that the prisoner's conduct fully justified her In declining to receive those addresses, for soon after her sister's marriage she received a message from her, and went to her house, and there to her surprise found her sister and her husband in a room together, and that he had torn his wife's clothes from her person in the middle of the day, in ignorance of what he was doing, and had stripped her so that she was literally naked. Some weeks afterwards, when he appeared in another frame of mind, and to have more reason, she mentioned to him what had occurred, and he appeared Ignorant of it as if It had never happened - he utterly denied It, and then said he did not recollect It, and hoped she would not mention It, If he had done so. He would appear to have been conscious of his weakness of mind, and of the fits of Insanity to which he was subject; for sometimes, after those fits, he would receive Information of persons having acted under the orders of his wife, and he would say they did quite right ; she was a very excellent woman, and it was right to submit to her orders, for he could not do the business himself. Other circumstances would be proved, shewing evidence not of a wild and eccentric person, but of absolute madness, long ago, even when he lived with his mother. Sometimes when his household sat down to breakfast, he took up the things, and threw them into the fire and destroyed them and his breakfast too. Sometimes he had taken eggs and put them on the fire, saying it was quite right to burn them. Such things happened at breakfast and dinner. His family could not be ignorant of what was going on, nor his servants, for his wife and servants all were all in one room together, and this might account for an acquaintance more than ordinary between him and Mary Baker. The evidence on these points would extend over a number of years down to the present time. The times of his madness shewed themselves by a very great difference In the appearance of the prisoner; his countenance would put on a most peculiar expression Indeed, and this would be material, for on the day when this occurrence happened, which formed the subject of the present Inquiry, he shewed these maniacal fits before he went to the fair. He was observed very early in the morning hoeing turnips; his servants noticed that his countenance was more maniacal than usual, and remarked It to their mistress ; and he was seen to use his hoe as if It were a pickaxe to take weeds up with, and not hoeing as a reasonable man would do. With regard to what took place at this fair on the 31st of July, the facts, as far as regarded the death of this poor woman, were proved; but the prosecution had not assigned any motive for the prisoner’s conduct. No motive had been shewn why the prisoner should wish to be revenged on this poor woman, or to desire her death. It would seem by the first account he had given to the constable that an improper connection had existed between them; and he did not know there was any other account of it, except the statement which her sister made at the fair. Supposing this to be true, how could they account for his conduct? He said this young woman had slept with him a night or two before when his wife was out, and that he was always able to do as he liked with her; but he would not disgust the Jury by repeating the terms. Why should he be revenged? He was afterwards made to say this, which was utterly Inconsistent with the other, statement, “If she does not come to my proposals, I have a pair of pistols, and will be the death of her.” If his proposals were that he should enjoy her person, he had done so; he was in actual enjoyment of it, by his own account, constantly. Could they reconcile this statement with the conduct of a sane and reasonable man? If he had been on the most intimate terms with her, why should he say, “If she does not come to my proposals I will be the death of her.” What proposals had he made? The matter was done - the thing complete. The young woman’s virtue had not stood in his way: it was not pretended she was about to leave his service, or to give up the terms of intimacy on which they had lived together. But nothing of that sort was shewn. He did not put question, and he observed that his friend did not put one, about the proposal made to her that she should meet him on the night in his own meadow. Was she not to meet him there? It was not shown that she declined to meet him there. It was quite clear that the terms of intimacy between them were to continue; and it was not reasonable to suppose that the proposal her sister made to her was not complied with. He said to her sister, as to the officer that he would be revenged; but this, he had already shewn, was an instance of Inconsistency. Again, so far from objecting to Bootman, It was shewn that he was In company with him, they were drinking together, and were on very friendly term ; nor did he object to Mary Baker being with Bootman. Then what meaning consistent with his sanity were the Jury to put on the words “I will be revenged?” He could have had no feeling against Bootman, whose acquaintance with the deceased was no secret ; he did not seen surprised or displeased at seeing her In Bootman’s company: on the contrary he welcomed him and gave him some drink. If the prisoner was actuated by the atrocious motives attributed to him, and had those vicious habits, how could the Jury reconcile what he said with the conduct of a rational being, when he talked or his proposals being refused? His conduct and expressions were those of a madman, who did not understand the facts as they occurred at the time. A frightful expression used by him was that of a man devoid of all reason. A rational man prompted by jealousy or any other base passion to commit such an act, would naturally, after such an intimacy as had taken place between this man and woman, have expressed regret at the act, instead of regretting, as the prisoner had, that he had not done more. The policeman had proved that the prisoner was the worse for liquor and excited. It did not appear he was a drinking man, and he had only taken such a small quantity of drink as would not produce an effect on a rational man not so much as to take effect on a sane man. He had taken nothing to make him excited by liquor; supposing him rational, but if he was in a state of excitement at the time, a small quantity or drink would take effect. Had he been an ordinary man, and in liquor at 8 or 9 in the evening, the effect would have gone off by the next morning; and, under these circumstances the Counsel for the prosecution had put a question on that point, but the answer of the policeman was remarkable “he appeared during the whole of the time In a most excited state, and the worse for liquor from beginning to end.” Was this the case of a man in any ordinary drunken fit, or of a man labouring under a fit of insanity? He should call a medical witness to prove, that a small quantity or drink acting on a person under peculiar excitement, would have ten-fold effect, and make him more excited and maddened than he was. This medical man had known the prisoner, not quite down to the time when this matter occurred, but for ten or twenty years, and he would state what had been his opinion of the prisoner at all times. He had made madness and insanity his study, having observed much of it in this and other countries, and he was a man of much experience. He would tell them, he was under no doubt whatever, that the prisoner was an insane man; and long before this matter occurred, he had come to that conclusion - the prisoner’s complexion, manner. and gesture, had suggested to him that he was not a rational man; he never spoke on any subject as a rational man, and this witness would say that he avoided entering into any conversations with him when he had made up his mind that he was not responsible for his conduct, and Incapable or conversation, or of giving a rational opinion. He knew the prisoner’s mother till she died of un affection of the brain, and he had no doubt that the prisoner’s was a case of hereditary lunacy. He thought he should be able to establish by a great number of witnesses the defence to be set up; and those witnesses would speak not of thoughts and conjectures, but of actual facts; and after hearing them he believed the Jury would de glad to come to the conclusion that he was not a rational man who had committed this atrocious crime. It would be a conclusion favourable to humanity, to our common nature, and one which a Jury ought to rejoice In having an opportunity of coming to. This case was one entirely for the consideration of the Jury - it was not for his Lordship’s consideration, but for theirs; his Lordship would lay down the law to them, and give a wise and just opinion of the facts of the case to which they would pay the attention to which all that fell from his Lordship was entitled, still the Judgment was with them more especially In a case of this kind, a criminal case. With all deference to his Lordship, he would observe that It was stated by one of our best writers that a Judge was in the habit of trying crimes, and seeing the worst part of humane nature, that he was sometimes inclined to bring more to the consideration of a case feelings of affection for pure justice than those feelings which might be expected to arise In the minds of a Jury, who would be guided also by merciful considerations. He did not say that a Judge lost all feelings of humanity, but Juries seemed especially to be actuated not only by motives of Justice, but also of humanity. Tho Jury, who had not always been in the habit of trying criminal cases, would rather be inclined to ask if there were circumstances by which a crime so horrible in itself could be mitigated. He should offer before the Jury the sort of evidence he had mentioned, and he was quite sure they would give it all the consideration to which it was so well entitled, and would return a verdict that, from his state of mind the prisoner was not responsible for the foul crime with which he was charged.
Edward Woolsey examined by Mr. Palmer : I live at Thrandeston, and am a labourer. I have known the prisoner seventeen years last Michaelmas. I worked for him eight years, commencing in 1835. I am not in his service now. I am one of his tenants, and have been so seventeen years, ever since he came to live at Thrandeston. I remember upon going into his service his setting me to plough. He came into the field and said, “What are you after here?” I replied, “You set me to plough.” He said, “The Devil I did not set you to plough here.” I kept on ploughing. In the evening, I told Mrs. Mickleburgh about it. She said, “Keep on ploughing, your master’s not exactly right; keep on until the ploughing is done; your master will be right in the course of a few days.” In the course of two or three days, the prisoner came to me, and said, “Have you finished your ploughing?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “That’s right.” Some little while after, I saw him walking about in one field; it was almost in one direction, measuring eight or ten rods. He kept on for an hour. I have frequently received directions from my mistress to go about my employment. I have asked my master what I should go about next, and he could not give me any answer. I have known him to be in a low state of mind for eighteen days. He did not appear to be able to attend to any business of a farming kind during that time. When he came out, he has asked me, “Who set me to work?” And I have said, “My mistress.” Upon this, he has said, “That’s right I am glad you are getting so forward, I have not been very well, and when I am not very well, you and your mistress must make it out as well as you can.” My mistress used to pay me my wages.
By the Judge : Almost always.
By Mr Palmer : I have known him to keep within doors for eight days together. I remember going to pay my rent five years ago. I found the prisoner sitting with his elbow upon the arm of his chair, and his head on his hand, looking very wild and ghastly, and death-like. He did not speak, nor take any notice of me whatever. Mrs. Mickleburgh took my rent. I dined there that day with some other tenants. The prisoner was asked to join us, but he did not : on the contrary, he continued sitting in his chair. We dined about twelve and left at night between eight and nine. Another times I have found him in a very good state of mind, so that he could give orders. He has taken me about the fields, when to me he has appeared to be overjoyed. He would take me round the farm, and set me as much work as it would take a man twelve months to do. After that he would fall into a state of melancholy, and would not refer to the work again. I have been in the habit of seeing deranged persons, and have shaved two persons in that state.
The Judge : Are you going to examine him as a man of science?
Mr. Palmer : No, only to show that he has reasons for the opinions he has advanced.
Witness : I have shaved persons while corded to their beds. I shaved the prisoner for nine years, when he would be shaved. Sometimes I shaved him once, and sometimes twice a week. I have known him go from a fortnight to three weeks without being shaved; the reason has been a low and melancholy state, when he has looked very bad. I recollect going one Saturday night to shave him. While lathering his face, snapped at the brush. On applying the razor to his face, he looked up at me very wildly, and I did not shave him, and the lather was wiped off his face, and he went until the next Saturday night. I went again on the Sunday morning, but I still found him unable to go through the operation. I dined at the prisoner’s at the harvest in 1840. We always had a dinner when we made up a wheat stack. Upon going into the house, I saw the prisoner sitting in his chair, and his mother placing the puddings on the table. She said to him twice, "John, are you coming to get your dinner?” He got up and placed the puddings on the floor, and then returned to his seat. I left him sitting in his chair after dinner, and I went about my work. He did not attend to his business for a fortnight after that. My cottage was within about 20 rods of the prisoner’s house. In the winter season of the year he has called me up between 3 and 4 o’clock in the morning, when it was very dark and cold. He has said, “Come, aren’t you going to get up, for the sun will scorch your eyes out.” I used to get up.
By the Judge : It happened not very often, but it happened several times.
By Mr. Palmer : I used to get up, and walk with him about the yards. His mind was in a very low state. I have often seen his wife accompany him about the fields. I have spoken to the woman, but he would neither speak nor look. J saw him on the morning of Thrandeston fair on the 31st July last. It was about a quarter-past five. He was attempting to hoe turnips. He was handling the hoe as if it been a mattock or a pick-axe. He turned his face to me, and looked very ghastly and wild. I did not speak to him all.
Cross-examined by Mr. Dasent : I was about eight or ten rods from him. He used the hoe as if he was picking at stone. There are stones in turnip fields. I do not use the hoe with force at every stroke.
Are you anything else but a farm labourer? I am anything you can set me after, as far as I can do it.
You say you are a barber. Do you carry on that business ? No, but I make myself useful, if I am sent for.
Do you preach? No.
What place of worship do you attend ? The Wesleyan Methodist chapel.
Where does the prisoner go? Sometimes to church, and sometimes to chapel, and sometimes nowhere.
Witness resumed : A man at Thrandeston used to receive insane persons, and that is the cause of my having shaved such people. I do not know that the prisoner is the overseer of Thrandeston at the present moment. I did not pay him rates, as overseer, last year. The prisoner had the management of Thrandeston Common. I have seen two medical men at the prisoner's house, Mr. Ward and Mr. Rose. I saw Mr. Ward there last year. When he looked ghastly on the occasion referred to, I was alarmed.
The Judge : In your judgment, was he fit to take care of himself? I left him there.
The question was repeated three times. Upon the second occasion the witness replied. “I cannot speak to that.”
The Judge : In your judgment was he fit to take care of himself - answer the question?
Witness : I don't think he was.
By Mr. Dasent : I did not see the prisoner at the fair. I have seen Mary Baker in his house. He hires 16 acres of land. He has 25 acres which he calls his own. I always got up in winter mornings when he said the sun was scorching hot. I never thought it a joke, but that the man knew no better. I have known this to happen four times. He used to rattle at the door. My wife used to grumble because I got up. This may have happened 14 years ago. I made my memorandum in my head, as I am no scholar. My wife knew of these visits on winter mornings, when he said, the sun was scorching hot. I never made a song of it to any one else. I was not at the Coroner’s Inquest, nor did I go before the magistrate. I first gave an account of these matters to be taken down about five weeks ago.
By the Judge : I was hired by the prisoner by the week.
Charles Barham, examined by Mr. Prendergast : I lived in the prisoner’s service two years up to last Michaelmas. After being in his service a fortnight, I went and asked my master what I was to do next morning, he ordered me to go and plough. He came to me the next morning about ten o'clock. He walked up and down the field by the side of the plough. I spoke to him several times, but he made no answer. He looked ghastly and wild. I spoke to my mistress on the subject; she told me when I saw him so, not to speak. He walked about in this way half an hour. I received no orders from him for ten days afterwards. When I went again I saw him sitting in his chair with his head resting upon his hand. I saw this every evening when I called, and he did not speak. I got my supper in the kitchen. My mistress gave me orders. He came into the field, and asked who had set me to narrow. l told him, when he said, “Behave well to your mistress, boy, she is a good one.” While I was ploughing, a boy brought a message to me, stating that I must go home, as my master was killing my mistress. I took my horses off directly, and went as requested. When I got home my mistress was holding my master. She said, “You had better go away, as your master is quiet now.” She had her arms around him, and he was sitting in his chair. He appeared to be very wild and dead-like. One day when I was ploughing, I saw him walking in the field in all directions. He kept this up for an hour and half. He kept turning very abruptly. In April last year, on Sunday morning, at breakfast time, my master came down stairs into the room where my mistress and the family were going to breakfast. My mistress was taking the eggs out of the saucepan. As fast as she put them on the plate, he took them up and rolled them in his hand, and put them on the fire, saying, “Let’s burn these little devils.” The things were then cleared away, and we went without our breakfast. After that, he sat down in his chair, and seemed to be in a very low and melancholy way afterwards. On the Sunday morning following, he came down stairs and took the bread-basket and threw it across the house. He then went to the fireplace and poured the contents of the coffee-pot upon the hearth, and afterwards threw the pot into the cinder pit. He would have turned the whole of the breakfast things over, but my mistress stopped him. He continued in this state three weeks. He neither shaved himself nor laced up his boots. When he has been in this state he has called me up as many as three times every night. He would tell me that the horses were out. When I have I gone into the yard, I have found them perfectly right in the stables. I cannot say how many times this has happened, but it has taken place upon several occasions. He has come to me when I have been at plough in a very elated and joyous state, telling me I should have his farm after seven years, and he has sung, and laughed, and danced. This was continued for upwards of a week. He ordered me to dig a trench to set cauliflowers. He came up to me whilst I was at work. He trembled violently, and looked wild and dead-like, much worse than I had ever seen him before. I spoke to my mistress about his appearance, On the morning of the fair day he was up at three o’clock. He called me up, and looked in a low and melancholy state. He took his hoe, and went to hoe turnips. He chopped into them, and chopped them up for a long way, and then he took his hoe upon his shoulder and walked a little and chopped away at them again. Sometimes he did his work well.
Cross-examined by Mr. Dasent : My mistress told me to go and hoe, and not go near my master.
By the Judge : This was on the morning of Thrandeston fair.
By Mr. Dasent : If the land was in good order, hoeing was not hard work. I saw my master hoeing in the way described two or three hours. I was also hoeing all the time, and kept on regularly, but my master went from place to place. I had my breakfast that morning comfortably in the kitchen. My master came in with me at the same time. I did not say anything to him, nor did he say anything to me. He did not get any breakfast at all; whilst breakfast was going on, of which Mary Baker partook, he was sitting in his chair. The meal lasted half-an-hour. I went back to hoe turnips; master, I believe, went down to the fair. I never saw Bootman at the house. I never knew my master to be attended by a medical man. He went about as he liked. My mistress would sometimes accompany him round the fields. I never saw my master drunk in my life, or the worse for liquor. I will swear I never saw him come home tipsy from market. I live with Mrs. Mickleburgh still. I do not know that this year Mr. Mickleburgh is overseer of the parish. His farm was not always kept nice.
By the Judge : My master hired me, but my mistress always paid me my wages. I was hired by the year.
By Mr. Prendergast : When he walked with his wife in the fields, I did not see him speak to her.
Hugh Wallace, examined by Mr. Palmer : I live at Winfarthing, about 4 miles from Thrandeston. I have known the prisoner twenty-five years, and intimately for the first eight. When I first knew him, he was living at Shelfanger, following the trade of a shoemaker. I used to see him two or three times during the day. In 1828 he courted my sister. The acquaintance was carried on six or eight months. He would come in pretty well every night. His general habits and conduct were sometimes very well, and sometimes very bad from despondency. His mother upon such occasions would fetch him; he would put himself in a great passion, and refuse to go, and threaten to murder her. At her request I have kept him at my house for her safety during the night. He would continue in this state sometimes for a week, during which he would hardly eat or drink anything. After the six or eight months, the acquaintance with my sister ceased. By my persuasion. and that of others, my sister gave him a denial, on the ground that he was an insane man. Last June I was invited to Thrandeston, to spend a long day with him. I got there about ten. I found him at one corner of the room quite alone, with his hat on, and resting his head upon his hand. He took no notice of me for a quarter of an hour. After that, during the day, he behaved pretty well. When I was leaving, he followed me on the green, and then his conversation was so indecent that, feeling a little alarmed for my own safety, I left him and went home. His language was obscene, and unfit for repetition, such as I had never heard from man's lips before. In June, 1850, he called at my house, in a very excited state indeed. He threw his arms about him, and raved, and foamed, and swore without any apparent cause. He continued in this way about three hours, when he sat down in a very desponding state which lasted half an hour. At the end of that time some chickens were going past the door, when he lifted up his head with all the simplicity of a child –
The Judge : Don't be so rhetorical!
Witness: And said, if I would give him a chicken he would go home. I gave him one, and he went away.
Cross-examined by Mr. Dasent: I used to be an inn-keeper. I now keep a school. I have always been in very good health myself. I have, never been in confinement for illness in the head. I don't know that the prisoner was very susceptible of the tender passion. My sister had not seen so much of him as I had done. To get out of his way, my sister left the village.
Ezra Garrard, examined by Mr. Prendergast : I am a shoemaker, at Diss. I have known the prisoner from his being an infant, forty years ago. He sometimes worked for me, when he was an apprentice. He was an eccentric and singular boy. Sometimes he would be elated and overjoyed; at other times so desponding as to be unable to give an answer. I have been at his house. He has given me kind invitations; and when I have gone, he has hardly looked at me, or spoken, or taken any notice. In June, 1850, he came to my house in a very excited state of mind. He was swearing in a most awful manner. My wife took out some bread and cheese. He chewed it, and spat it about the floor, and throwing his arms about said when he got home he would murder his wife. I went home with him. He had a horse and gig standing at my gate. I accompanied him home, because I did not think he was right in his mind. He drove off at a very furious rate and I was afraid he would turn me over, and “have a mischief.” I attempted to take the reins from his hands on ascending Palgrave hill, but he would not let them go. When we got to his house, he said I should dine with him, and I stopped. He helped me to a small piece of mutton weighing about 3 ozs. at most; I ate it when he looked at me and asked, “Have you eaten all that?” I replied, “Yes, you gave it to me, I suppose, for that purpose.” He appeared angry, and exclaimed, “Well, bless your guts.” I don’t recollect him eating or drinking anything himself. He talked of selling his property, and leaving his wife and family, and going to America. His wife was present, and the prisoner soon afterwards went to bed. This was in the day time, about 1 o’clock. I remained in the house at Mrs. Mickleburgh’s request. She seemed alarmed for her own safety, and asked me what I thought of her husband. He seemed to be in a very excited and angry state of mind. I did not give Mrs. Mickleburgh any warning or advice, but I said I thought that, at some time or other, he would do something wrong either to himself, or some other person. I knew his mother for thirty years. She appeared to be a strange sort of woman. I have seen her sitting, in a solitary way, in a dry ditch, in a field. She took no notice of me. I saw her do this two or three times.
Cross examined by Mr. Dasent : When he came to me, he said he had been to the different shops in the town, and that his wife had bought something in the drapery line, unknown to him. He appeared to be very angry, and as she had not done right to his mind, he would go home and murder her. This reminded me of the passion which he had displayed when a boy. If I had seen the necessity, I should have interfered to protect the wife. There was nothing remarkable in his conduct to his children. When he talked of going to America, the wife merely said, “Well, if I have done wrong, I must abide by the consequences.”
By Mr. Prendergast : He would sometimes be passionate without a cause. I went home with him because I thought him in a very bad state of mind.
Mary Reeve, examined by Mr. Palmer : I am the sister of the prisoner’s wife. I have known him twenty-five years. I knew him before he married, and when he lived with his mother at Shelfanger. I visited him twice a week for about three years. Sometimes he would break out in ungovernable passion. He would kick the table over covered with tea things, and at other times he seemed low, and would not take any notice of any one. The prisoner’s mother wished me to become his wife, but I refused the offer, because I thought the prisoner of unsound mind. He afterwards married my sister, against my desire, as I told her I thought him nothing but a crazy man between times. The first four years they lived at Shelfanger. On one occasion I was sent for. I found the prisoner sitting with his arms folded, and my sister almost naked. Her clothes were torn off. I remonstrated with the prisoner, but I could get no answer. He said he knew nothing about it. He appeared to be in a highly excited state. I called upon him a week afterwards. I asked if he recollected my calling upon him the week before. His answer was, “No, I know nothing about it.” I asked him if he recollected stripping my sister. He said, “No, if I did it, I am sorry for it; don't tell your father; I hope I shall never do it again.” I remember the day of his mother’s funeral in January, 1849. He stood at the head of the coffin. He sang, and seemed pleased, and highly overjoyed. The coffin; with the body in it, was in the kitchen at Thrandeston. I saw him on the evening of the Saturday before the fair, at his house about 8 o’clock. He was sitting in the room in a melancholy way; I asked him how he was; his answer was, “You shall have no victuals here.” He never took his leave of me. He appeared very low and irritated. On the Sunday afternoon, I met him at my father’s at Shelfanger. He appeared more excited than on the previous day, and refused to eat and drink in my presence.
Cross-examined by Mr. Dasent : When he was of right mind, he was like other people. Sometimes he was very high, and sometimes very low. I never heard of any dishonesty on his part. Sometimes he would talk very rationally, and go to church, and sometimes he would not go at all to any place of worship. When I found my sister stripped, I did not know what had taken place before.
Mr. Henry Ward, examined by Mr. Prendergast : I am a surgeon, at Diss. I have known the prisoner 15 or 16 years, ever since 1835. I knew his mother. She died of palsy, disease of the brain. I have had frequent opportunities of seeing cases of insanity, and have, made the subject my study, and been frequently called upon to give evidence upon such subjects. I am surgeon to two Unions. I have attended the prisoner’s family very many times. During these occasions I have very frequently seen the prisoner, and attended him as my patient. He has laboured under dyspepsia. For this I have attended him twice. I have had conversations with him. I formed the opinion that he was of unsound mind. His conduct generally induced me to that belief. His look was uncertain. Sometimes he moped. But more frequently he was talkative, and without sufficient cause, would use violent language. If I had to give any opinion to him with regard to his family, he would pay but little attention, and this was generally the case, though the family might be even dangerously ill.
Cross-examined by Mr. Dasent : I think if a man be ever unsound, he would never perfectly recover. Most unquestionably, in my opinion , he was a man of confirmed unsound mind.
The Judge: You are of the school of medical men, amongst whom there are some most distinguished, who think there is no such as partial insanity?
Witness : I don't think I have joined any particular school.
But you think there is no such thing as partial insanity? I do, my lord, most unquestionably.
By Mr. Dasent : I have seen the prisoner act in a rational manner. I think that a man, excited by insufficient circumstances, is of unsound mind.
By the Judge : If a man be excited without sufficient reason, it is my opinion that he is labouring under a form of mania.
By Mr. Dasent: He never made any objection to any advice I tendered about his family, nor did he ever assent. He paid no attention. This is one ground why I think him of unsound mind. I have seen very little of him since 1850. During that year, I saw him fifty or sixty times. But some years before, he conducted himself in n very strange manner.
By Mr. Prendergast : When you look at the prisoner his eye wanders. The expression of his countenance, and the colour of his skin are indicative of unsound mind. I avoided conversation with him, from the exceeding impulsiveness of his violent language. I don’t think he was a bad tempered man. I attribute his violence to want of power of self-control.
By the Judge : Except with regard to indigestion, I have never been called upon to prescribe for the prisoner. I do not think I ever saw him without his breaking out in some way or another. If an insane patient is confined in an asylum and is returned to liberty as sound and well, and he marries and begets children, they will become insane.
The Judge : Now I ask you whether it is your opinion that, if a person be sometimes insane, he must always be insane?
Witness : Yes, my lord, I think very slight provocation will bring out the disease.
Do you believe that a person may sometimes be insane, and at other times have a notion of the distinction between right and wrong? Yes, my lord, I believe it.
Joseph Taddy Butcher, examined by Mr. Prendergast : I was confined in the Ipswich prison, to which gaol the prisoner was brought in August last. I have been an attorney’s clerk. Having been convicted of bigamy, I was in the prison under sentence, and am so still. The prisoner was placed under my care. I was in the infirmary of the prison, not in a cell. I was there as a patient, and had to read the prayers for the sick to the inmates. The prisoner appeared to be suffering under great agony of mind. He remained so during the first day of his confinement. On the day following, about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, he was called to the iron railing of the yard by a police officer whom I have since learned was Inspector Jukes. After that interview, the prisoner came up to me wringing his hands, and exclaiming, “She's dead she’s dead!” He remained for about an hour walking alone in a separate part of the yard, in an apparently agitated state. He followed me into the sick ward, and immediately commenced singing and laughing violently, and dancing. He ceased for a minute or two, and then said to me, “will Jack Ketch have my clothes? - if so, I will cut my boots off my feet.” He again relapsed into a melancholy mood. This lasted some days. From that period, for 7 or 8 days, he positively refused to take all kinds of food, with the exception of tea, and it was not until the surgeon of the prison stated his intention of using artificial means of injecting food into his stomach if he persisted in his determination, that he took any. From that period, his health had gradually improved. During the time he was in prison, I have had opportunities of observing his peculiar conduct as to breaking out into rage. Some days, he is in a very desponding state of mind, and on these occasions easily excited. His conduct, so far as I observed it, was certainly not like that of other men.
Cross-examined by Mr. Bulwer: After these conversations with parties, he appeared to be very agonized.
The Judge : Had you often conversations with him?
Witness : Very frequently.
Did he not converse very rationally? Yes.
How long together ? For two or three days together, perhaps longer.
This was the case for the prisoner.
Mr. Dasent addressed the jury in reply upon the whole case. He said, he thought they could not come to the conclusion, upon the evidence they had heard, that the prisoner was of unsound mind at the time the act was committed. He recapitulated the facts proved in support of the prosecution, dwelling upon the allegation of the prisoner carrying on an illicit intercourse with the deceased, which being interrupted by Bootman, excited his jealousy and anger. He submitted that, from Bootman being conclusion, whether they could come to the conclusion that the witnesses had had the slightest notion, up to the period of the murder, that the prisoner was a lunatic of unsound mind, not knowing right from wrong, and perfectly irresponsible for his actions.
At 6 o'clock, agreeably to the suggestion of the learned Judge, the Jury retired for a quarter of an hour, to partake of some slight refreshment.
Upon their return, the Judge summed up the case. He said, that he and they had now a most important and most painful duty to perform. But they must perform that duty with impartiality, and with firmness, in obedience to the oaths which they had taken. It would be for him to lay down the law to them to govern their decision ; but it would be their privilege upon the facts to form their own deliberate opinion, according to the evidence which had been adduced. They were well aware that the prisoner was indicted for the wilful murder of Mary Baker. That he did cause her death admitted of no dispute. That he caused her death under circumstances which amounted to murder, it he were a responsible agent, there could be no question, The point then would be for them to decide whether at the time the deed was done he was responsible for the act. Now, he must instruct them upon the law. The question they had to determine was not, whether the prisoner was sane or insane; the question was, whether at the time when he bought the knife, and when he used it to stab Mary Baker, he could distinguish right from wrong. If they believed that at that time he laboured under some delusion, by the visitation of Providence whereby he could not distinguish right from wrong, God forbid the duty should be imposed of punishing him for the act. But if he could distinguish right from wrong, and knew what he was doing, and that it was wrong, he must be answerable to the laws of his country for the act which he committed. Now, the law was this; it seemed clear that, to excuse a man from punishment on the ground of insanity, it must be proved distinctly that he was not capable of distinguishing right from wrong at the time he did the act, and did not know it to be an offence against the laws of his country and of his God. If there were a partial degree of reason, and a competent use of it to restrain passion which induced crime - if there were thought, and design, and faculty to discern the difference between moral good and evil, then the prisoner would be responsible. But he would give them the law in the words of the learned Judges of the land, as delivered upon this important subject in the House of Lords. Some doubts arose a few years ago respecting the defence of insanity, and how it should be met upon the trial when such a defence was set up. In answer to questions put in the House of Lords, the learned Judges stated, “The jury ought to be told in all cases that every man is presumed to be sane, and to possess a sufficient degree of reason to be responsible for his crime, until the contrary be proved to their satisfaction.” And that to establish a defence on the ground of insanity, “it must be clearly proved that, at the time of the committing of the act, the party accused was labouring under such a defect of reason from disease of the mind as not to know the nature and quality of the act he was doing; or that if he did know it, that he did not know he was doing what was wrong.” Accordingly, therefore, to this solemn determination of the Judges, they were to inquire whether when the prisoner stabbed Mary Baker he did or did not know what he was doing whether he was stabbing her or not. If they believed he knew he was stabbing her, then they were to consider whether he knew that at the time he was doing wrong. If they believed he knew he was stabbing her to put an end to her life, and that he knew he was doing wrong, he would be guilty of wilful murder. The learned Judge, after some further remarks, proceeded very minutely to read over the whole of the evidence, pointing out the various expressions sworn to as having been used by the prisoner. He warned the Jury against being led away by the idea of inferring a man’s insanity on the ground of the wicked action which he might have committed, otherwise crime must go unpunished. As regarded the declarations made by the prisoner from time to time, they furnished important evidence from which they would draw their own conclusions. His lordship alluded to the statement made by the learned Counsel, that he should prove hereditary insanity in the family of the prisoner. Now, the only evidence upon this point was the evidence which went to show that tie prisoner's mother died of palsy, disease of the brain. But there was no ground for saying that she was insane. He then called attention to the evidence of Mr. Ward, the surgeon, who had stated that though he had attended the prisoner’s family many times, yet that he had attended the prisoner himself only twice, and that too, not for insanity, but for indigestion. It was an extraordinary fact then that, during the many times Mr. Ward visited the house, he should not have been consulted, if the prisoner had been suspected of being insane. If they should be of opinion that the prisoner did not know what he was doing, when he bought the knife mid struck the blow, they would acquit him; if, on the other hand, they were of opinion he had a perfect consciousness of the distinction between right and wrong, however painful it might be, they would find him guilty.
The Jury turned round in the box, and after consulting together four minutes, the foreman returned a verdict of Guilty, adding that they were unanimous.
Proclamation having been made.
The Clerk of, the Arraigns asked the prisoner if he had anything to allege why he should not receive sentence to die, according to, law?
Prisoner : My lord, I hope I may say a few words. If the case had been conducted on the merits, I should have stood right. As it is, instead of being built on the rock of truth, it is built on a pillar of straw. I suspected so from the first. I am not insane - there is no insanity, if you had heard the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I knew how it would be. I knew it from the first. It was no insane thing, and it cannot stand. I like to see truth blaze out. I am not an insane man. I never behaved badly to my neighbour. I am a man who knows things well. Because your lordship has penetration and wisdom I was placed before you. I never questioned it. I never set a bad example, and I did all I could to benefit my neighbour. I wished to go on the basis of truth, and I have been cruelly deceived. If you had had the whole truth you would have had to try a different conclusion. I shall be judged in a higher court, where things will come out. On that rock of truth, I stand. That is all I want. There has been no truth here, but fabrication from first to last. I was pleased when I heard I was to be brought before you, because you can prove truth, and then I should have stood on a very different footing to what I do now. Before the Judgment seat of Christ, no mortal can deny I shall be judged. Not that I can avoid my sins, but for mercy I trust in the blood of my Saviour. (With a subdued voice) I have only one request to make my lord, and that is, that the knife shall be destroyed.
The Judge having assumed the awful symbol of death, in a faltering voice, said, John-Mickleburgh, after a long and careful trial, you have been found guilty by a Jury of your country of wilful murder - of the murder of an unfortunate young woman, whom you first seduced.
Prisoner : No, no.
The Judge : And then destroyed.
Prisoner : No, no, you must not say so.
The Judge : You have crimes of a deep dye to answer for, and I do earnestly implore you to seek for pardon by repentance from your offended Maker. I will not harrow up your feelings by further enlarging upon your crimes. But I do earnestly implore you to prepare for the awful change which awaits you. The sentence of the Court is, that for this offence you be taken from hence to the place of confinement from whence you came, and from thence to a place of execution, and that you be there hanged by the neck until you be dead; and that your body be buried within the precincts of the prison, within which you shall be confined after your conviction; and may the Lord have mercy on your soul!
The prisoner stepped from the bar with a light step, and soon disappeared.
The Court adjourned at a quarter past 8.
