‘And yet the Crown asks the jury to say the woman who did that contemplated murder. Do you believe it? Was that the action of a woman who had the full intention in her mind of murdering a child?
‘I say for the Crown to suggest that that was the action of a murderess is preposterous.’
He shakes his head as he looks at the jury. The courtroom is completely silent.
‘Then she carried the little child home, put it to bed, lifted it up in the morning, bathed and dressed it. Then again, the next day she again tends the child in the same way. Was that the action of a murderess?
‘I maintain that it is positively and absolutely absurd to say so.
‘Then my learned friend said that the little child was taken away on the Thursday morning after being bathed and clothed and fed, and an empty tin box was taken with it.’ He looks at the box on the table. ‘And because the box was taken with it, the jury were asked to come to the conclusion that the box was taken for no other purpose than to put the body of the dead child in when she had murdered the child.
‘But why would she treat the child as she had done, if she was going to murder it? Why should she go to so much trouble if she intended in a few hours to take away its life?’ He shakes his head again. ‘There was no necessity to do so.
‘I therefore ask the jury to say, looking at the circumstances, whether they are consistent with the intention of committing murder. If she was guilty of negligence in administering the laudanum, then it is possible that she might be convicted of manslaughter.
But, if the child was killed by misadventure, then she is entitled to be acquitted.’
He lets the word hang in the air.
‘We have the evidence of Miss Cameron that Mrs Dean gave a child laudanum at The Larches to quieten it, because it was going away. Esther Wallis also said that Mrs Dean gave the child something, and Mrs Dean said that it was to keep the child quiet. The Crown asks you to believe in connection with this evidence that the children disappeared in a mysterious way, and it is obvious that they intend you to believe that the children were done away with.
‘My learned friend asked why Mrs Dean took the box away. There were plenty of reasons why. She had no valise. My learned friend has said she took nothing away with her in the tin box, but that was not the point. She had to get a bundle of clothes from Mrs Hornsby, and there are many things to be carried by a woman travelling with a child, and this tin box was a reasonable and proper thing to take with her.’
He looks about the courthouse and then back to the jury. He is doing a superb job, there can be no doubt.
‘Then Esther Wallis told you that when she took the child away she took food with it. Why did she do that if she never intended the child to have it? And why send Esther Wallis for a basket to put the food in? I maintain that all these circumstances show that the woman —’ he glances at Mrs Dean — ‘did not for one moment contemplate murdering the child.
‘Then when Mrs Dean went up the line she evidently had a ticket for Lumsden. On the road she breaks the journey at Dipton. It was quite evident that she wished to go to Lumsden, and in the train she asked the guard if she could break the journey at Dipton. Why did she wish to do that?’
He looks back at the jury.
‘The answer came from two directions. Mr Aylin, who keeps the hotel at Dipton, said Mrs Dean told him the baby was sick. Perhaps she said more than that and it was not true. But the question is, was that part of it true?
‘Corroborative evidence was given of this statement by Miss Duncan, the housemaid at the hotel, who noticed that the baby was sick. She mentioned the fact to Mrs Dean, who said that that was why she broke the journey at Dipton. It might be asked what was there to make the baby sick, if it was sick at all?
‘Possibly it was through Mrs Dean giving it some laudanum.’ He narrows his eyes. ‘But that could not be so. If Mrs Dean had given the child laudanum, it would not have looked as it did.
‘Then we were told that the child was crying. But if it was crying it would not have been suffering from the effects of laudanum poisoning, as laudanum produces drowsiness, and afterwards coma.
‘The evidence shows that the child was sick and that the reason that she had given for breaking the journey at Dipton was absolutely correct.
‘Then Mrs Dean went by the evening train for Lumsden and the child disappeared. The Crown has proved that the child disappeared and that afterwards morphia was found in its body. Why did she not say that she was giving them a dose of soothing powders?’ The jury appears transfixed, and Mr Hanlon pauses again. ‘She however told Esther Wallis and Miss Cameron that she was giving the children laudanum, a poisonous drug. Was that the action of a woman trying to murder those children?’
He shakes his head. ‘That is not the way people act when they want to commit murder. They try to hide the crime. That goes to show clearly that Mrs Dean thought laudanum should be given to the children, and so it was given.
‘Doctor Young has told you that laudanum is frequently given to children to stop them from crying, and so Mrs Dean evidently thought it no harm to give laudanum to the children when they were in pain or when she wanted them to sleep. Assuming that Dorothy Edith Carter died through misadventure or negligence, can the jury for a moment believe that Mrs Dean would let people know what had been done?
‘The child was put into a tin box, taken home and buried in the garden. Was that the action of a person committing murder upon a little child?’ Again he shakes his head vigorously. ‘No not at all.
‘If she wanted to murder the child, why did she go to Lumsden or Dipton to do it? The Crown has pointed out that on former occasions little children had disappeared from The Larches and that when they did so Esther Wallis and Miss Cameron were sent away from the house.
‘What was easier for her, then, than to have disposed of Dorothy Edith if she intended to do so? All she had to do was send Esther Wallis and Miss Cameron away from home. Why, then, did she go to the expense of going to Dipton, and going where people could see the child?
‘Esther Wallis said that Dean asked Mrs Dean if the lady who was going to adopt the child had any more children. The inference is that Mrs Dean had told Dean that a woman was going to adopt the child, which accounts for Mrs Dean’s journey to Lumsden. The fact that Mrs Dean brought the child home and buried it in her own garden does not show that she murdered it.
‘If she had murdered it, why did she bring it home and bury it at her own front door?
‘If she had informed the police that the child had died on her hands there would have been an inquest and the names of the parents of the children would have been revealed.
‘Evidence has been given that the body of another child named Eva Hornsby had also been buried in the garden, with the object of showing that the death of Dorothy Edith Carter was not caused by accident. If the Crown had such a strong case there would be no necessity to call such evidence.
‘Why did my learned friend call that evidence?’ He turns to look at Mr MacDonald. ‘Because he knew that it was perfectly open to the defence to say that the child died accidentally and his case would have fallen to the ground.
‘I do not care if forty children were found buried in the garden; that would not affect the circumstances surrounding the present case. No matter whether all those children were murdered, the jury has to find a true verdict according to the evidence so far as the death of Dorothy Edith Carter is concerned.
‘You are not trying Mrs Dean for the murder of Eva Hornsby. You have to confine yourselves solely and wholly to the evidence so far as it concerns Dorothy Edith Carter, and if there is a shadow of doubt in your minds as to whether or not Mrs Dean killed that child, then you must give her the benefit of the doubt.
‘With regard to the other children who were found in the garden, it does not matter how these children came by their deaths if the child Dorothy Edith Carter was accidentally killed.’
There is muttering in the courtroom now, so Mr Hanan h
urries on.
‘There is another point of exceedingly great importance in the trial, and that is the question of motive.’ He again looks at Mr MacDonald. ‘My learned friend in his opening said that in nearly all cases of murder a motive should be assigned. I ask: was it proved that there was a motive in this case?’ He shifts his gaze to the jury. ‘I maintain that there was no evidence to show that. It is the duty of the jury to look for a motive in all cases where they try to prove murder by circumstantial evidence. In the present case, all the evidence is purely circumstantial. Why should Mrs Dean kill the child? She had got nothing for it.
‘My learned friend suggested that although she had not got the money, she expected to get it, and disposed of the child to save expense, time and trouble. But when the jury considers what Mrs Dean did in the case of Willie Phelan, they will see that the suggestion will not hold water.
‘In this case the money had not been paid, and what security had Mrs Dean that she would get it? She had none at all. But so long as she had the child in her possession she could make sure of getting the money. This was an illegitimate child and the parents wanted it taken away from home. If she did not get paid, all she had to do was to do as she did in the case of Willie Phelan — take the child back. But when she disposed of the child, all chance of getting the money was gone. Then what motive can the Crown assign for the murder of the child?
‘There was absolutely no motive. It was to her interest to keep the child alive, at any rate until she got the money.’ He sucks in his lips and returns to his papers briefly before continuing.
‘With regard to the death of the child Eva Hornsby,’ he says slowly, ‘the doctors said it died in a state of asphyxia. They also said that its stomach was empty. Mrs Hornsby, however, swears that she gave the child some milk on the morning she handed it over to Mrs Dean, and also a bottle of milk with it. What became of the milk?
‘If Mrs Hornsby gave it that milk, where did it go to unless the child vomited it? If it did vomit the milk, it is possible it may have choked itself in doing so.’
He waits until the murmurs stop and turns to the jury.
‘I conclude by urging you to take the whole facts of the case into careful consideration and give a true verdict according to the oath you have taken. I do not ask for sympathy or pity — I am not entitled to it; I only ask for justice, and justice I am entitled to get.’
And then it comes. A loud, slow, solitary clapping at first, but before I can see who it comes from it is joined by another, then another, and another, until the room echoes with the sound of applause. People rise to their feet, cheering and stomping, chanting, ‘Justice! Justice!’
My heart soars. He has saved her. He has saved her!
But there is one more step.
Justice Williams must address the jury.
‘Before you retire,’ he says to them, ‘it is my duty to hereby sum up the proceedings and I will do so in a fair and unbiased manner.’
He turns to Mr Hanlon. ‘You will have to take into consideration the circumstances relating to the disappearance of the child Eva Hornsby. The circumstances connected with the disappearance of that child are so intimately connected with the circumstances of the child Dorothy Edith Carter that it is impossible to disassociate them.’
My heart lurches.
‘Let us pause a moment to look at the transaction. The child is eleven months old, and is said to be taken over and adopted in consideration of ten pounds being paid to the person adopting. Why should one person adopt the child of another?’
He looks at the jury. Some of them turn away, unwilling to meet his gaze.
‘It seems to me that only two answers can be reasonably given to such a question. The first is that it is a pecuniary transaction and done in the way of business. The second is that the person desirous of adopting the child is herself childless, and from the natural love of offspring which a woman has, is prepared, out of love, to take and nurture somebody else’s child, as she has none of her own. Can this latter have been the motive of the accused in the present case?’
He pauses as though awaiting a response, and then shakes his head, no.
‘If it was not, then what sort of business transaction was entered into? If the mother or connections of an illegitimate child choose to get somebody else to adopt it, and pay the person a sufficient sum for maintaining it, the transaction on the part of the person adopting is a perfectly intelligible one, although she may have plenty of children of her own.
‘But if the sum is inadequate, what can be said? Can it be said that apart from any consideration of affection, the sum of ten pounds is an adequate sum for which a person would undertake to rear-up and maintain a child of eleven or twelve months old, until it gets to a sufficient age to be of use and earn money for itself?’
He shakes his head again, and I cannot help but notice how often counsel and Judge use these gestures to such devastating effect.
‘If, therefore, there was no question of natural affection in the case, and if ten pounds is a wholly inadequate consideration for maintaining a child from the age of twelve months till it might earn money for itself, what possible motive can be suggested for a woman in poor circumstances taking over a child and undertaking to rear and maintain it from that early age? Does not even that suggest that there was some improper motive beyond if no reasonable motive can be assigned?’
The jury are turned in his direction. All I can do is watch and listen.
‘Alluding to the morning when Mrs Dean started on the journey from The Larches with Dorothy Edith Carter,’ he continues, ‘and to the fact that the child took its food properly that morning, what was the intention of taking this child on this Thursday?
‘She had told Esther Wallis that she was to return on Saturday and would come from Invercargill to the Winton station, and Esther Wallis said that she would meet her there. So the accused had determined before she left on the Thursday what her route was to be.’
He pauses and two jurymen nod.
‘That appears not only from what she told Esther Wallis, that she would come from Invercargill to Winton, but from the circumstance that at that time there was an arrangement existing that she should meet Mrs Hornsby at Milburn on the Friday. That being the arrangement with Mrs Hornsby, what then was the object of the accused taking Dorothy Edith Carter with her?
‘She had just received her from her grandparent, and had undertaken herself to adopt her and to bring her up. Why should she take her away almost immediately after she had received her? Did she intend to bring her back?’
He shakes his head again, and the two jurymen do also.
‘Either she did intend to bring her back or she did not. If she did intend to bring her back, how was it that, intending to be away from Thursday to Saturday, she took no clothes with the child beyond what it was wearing, and she had also arranged, as we know, to get another very young child on the following day from Mrs Hornsby?
‘If, therefore, she intended to bring the child back, she would have had on her hands two children in arms. Can it be suggested that there was any reason whatever, if the accused intended to bring Dorothy Edith Carter back, for taking her away on that day?’
He stops and looks out across the courtroom.
‘Then did she not intend to bring her back? If she did not, and she suggested before going to her husband that she was going to take Dorothy Edith to adopt, and after she came back she told Esther Wallis that Dorothy Edith had been given to a lady to have the child adopted, there would certainly, one would suppose, have been some arrangement made with the person who was going to take over the child. There would have been somebody to meet Mrs Dean either at Dipton, Lumsden, Gore, Milton or Clinton. But nobody did come to meet her at any stage.’ He looks almost crestfallen.
‘If there had been an arrangement, if some person was willing to adopt the child and to take over this particular child from the accused, why is that person not forthcoming? It is quite understandable why girls wh
o have had the misfortune to have an illegitimate child and their relations should be anxious to conceal their shame. But in the case of a woman who wants to adopt, there is no occasion, especially in a case of this kind, for any reticence whatever. There is no shame or disgrace in wanting to adopt a child.’
The woman beside me murmurs in agreement. All about, people nudge one another, nod, raise their eyebrows. My fear for Mrs Dean is growing. It is growing rapidly.
‘I put it to you, if there had been any lady or young woman wanting to take over this child, and if there had been an arrangement to that effect, I put it to you as reasonable men: would not that woman be forthcoming?’ He looks hard at the jury and bangs down his fist. ‘And she is not forthcoming. What the accused stated to her husband about a lady being about to adopt the child is evidence that the accused did not intend, when she started with the child, to bring the child back again.’ His speech quickens. ‘If there was no arrangement with any person to take over this child, and if she set out on this journey with this child there being no such arrangement, then is that not evidence only not that she did not intend to bring back the child, but that she did not intend to bring back the child alive?’
He stops now and takes a deep breath. All around me people are nodding in agreement. Yes, they say. He is right. She is guilty. She did it.
‘Mrs Dean sets out, as I have said, with a child and with this tin box — a large tin box perfectly empty — and with no other receptacle for luggage except what was contained in a small handbag.’ He is warming to his story again. ‘She leaves Lady Barkly at twelve minutes past nine in the morning and the train arrives at Dipton shortly after ten, the train being late. She took a first-class return ticket from Lady Barkly to Lumsden and asked the guard if she could break the journey at Dipton. The suggestion on the part of the accused is that she broke the journey because the child was sick and unable to continue the journey.’
The Day She Cradled Me Page 27