Murderpedia has thousands of hours of work behind it. To keep creating
new content, we kindly appreciate any donation you can give to help
the Murderpedia project stay alive. We have many
plans and enthusiasm
to keep expanding and making Murderpedia a better site, but we really
need your help for this. Thank you very much in advance.
Adelaide
Blanche BARTLETT
The Pimlico Poisoning Mystery
Classification: Murderer?
Characteristics:
Parricide - Poisoner
Number of victims: 1 ?
Date of murder:
January 1, 1886
Date of birth: 1856
Victim profile:
Thomas Edwin Bartlett, 40 (her husband)
French-born Adelaide Blanche de la Tremoille
married Thomas Edwin Bartlett in 1875, when she was nineteen and he
was twenty-nine. He came from a close-knit family of prosperous
grocers and Adelaide seemed resent the closeness that she had married
into. Edwin seemed to have no interest in satisfying his young wife
sexually and within a year of their marriage she had begun an affair
with her brother-in-law.
In 1885 Mrs Bartlett became friendly with the
Reverend George Dyson, a Wesleyan minister. Edwin approved of the
relationship and even made a will leaving everything to Adelaide, with
Dyson as the executor. The Bartletts moved to Pimlico in October 1885
and, within a matter of weeks, Edwin became ill with the doctor
diagnosing subacute gastritis. On 1st January 1886, Adelaide called
her landlord and asked him to "Come down; I think Mr Bartlett is
dead."
Doctors found about a sixteenth of an ounce of
chloroform in the dead man's stomach and deduced that a large dose
must have been swallowed. The intriguing thing was that, although
chloroform is a corrosive poison, no traces were found in his mouth or
throat. Both Adelaide and Dyson were charged with the murder of Edwin,
though the case against Dyson was withdrawn before it came to trial.
It was shown in court that Dyson had bought four
small bottles of chloroform from various chemists, at the request of
Adelaide but on Edwin's doctor's prescription. Adelaide admitted that
she used it, sprinkled on a handkerchief, to help her husband to sleep
during the period of his illness. The defence put forward the theory
that Edwin had drunk the chloroform to commit suicide and, as there
was no evidence to show how the poison had been administered, the jury
returned a verdict of not guilty.
After the case one well-known doctor said that "in
the interests of science, she should now say how she did it!"
Murder-uk.com
The Pimlico Mystery or the Pimlico
Poisoning Mystery is the name given to the circumstances
surrounding the 1886 death of Thomas Edwin Bartlett, possibly
at the hands of his wife, Adelaide Blanche Bartlett, in the
Pimlico district of London.
A fatal quantity of chloroform was found in Mr
Bartlett's stomach, despite having not caused any damage to his throat
or windpipe, and no evidence of how it got there. Adelaide Bartlett
was tried for her husband's murder and was acquitted. By the jury's
own statement in court Mrs Bartlett's acquittal was partly secured
because the prosecution could not prove how Mrs Bartlett could have
committed the crime.
Background
The heart of the Pimlico Mystery is the odd
relationship between a wealthy grocer, Mr. Thomas Edwin Bartlett
(1845–1886), his younger French-born wife Adelaide Blanche de la
Tremoille (born 1855), and the Reverend George Dyson, Adelaide's tutor
and the couple's spiritual counselor and friend.
Dyson was a Wesleyan minister, and (if the story
Adelaide and Dyson told is true) was encouraged to openly romance
Adelaide Bartlett by Edwin's permission. Edwin himself was suffering
several unpleasant illnesses (including rotting teeth and possibly
tapeworms). Edwin was supposedly something of a faddist, believing in
animal magnetism as a key to health; but again, his reported
eccentricities are partly based on what was learnt from Adelaide and
Dyson, both of whom may have had reasons to lie. Adelaide's father was
rumoured to be a wealthy and possibly even titled member of Queen
Victoria's entourage, which had indeed visited France in 1855,
possibly Adolphe Collot de la Tremouille, Comte de Thouars d'Escury.
Adelaide is sometimes recorded as being born illegitimately in Orléans
in 1855.
The marriage of a Clara Chamberlain and Adolphe
Collot de Thomas (sic) d'Escury is recorded in the BMD index March
quarter 1853, lending weight to the supposition that Adelaide was not
illegitimate. BMD records Adolphe's death (under the surname De
Escury) in the Pancras district of London in the June quarter of 1860.
In the 1861 census, Clara is a widow and is living with children Henry
(7), Adelaide (5), Frederick (3) and Clara (1), as well as her
unmarried sister Ellen Chamberlain (17) RG9/163 Folio 97 Page 10
Havelock Road, South Hackney, where the three elder children are
recorded as being born in France. BMD lists Clara's death at the age
of 33, in the Pancras district also, in the December quarter of 1866.
In the 1871 census the orphaned Adelaide (surname enumerated as de
Thours) is adopted daughter to a William H and Ann Wellbeloved,
William being a confectioner. Her brother Frederick (as Freddy) is a
boarder in the same household (High Street, Hampton Wick, Middlesex
RG10/866 Folio 7 Page 5). Adelaide is listed as being Assistant to the
Confectioner, and born in St Cloud, a district of Paris, rather than
Orleans (as is her brother Freddy).
Edwin and Adelaide were married in 1875. According
to Adelaide, it was intended to be a platonic marriage, but in 1881
she had a stillborn baby by Edwin; Edwin had refused her (female)
nurse's advice to call a (male) doctor during a difficult labour
because he didn't want another man "to interfere with her".
Early in 1885, they met Dyson as the local Wesleyan
minister and he became a frequent visitor. Edwin made Dyson executor
of his will, in which he left his entire estate to Adelaide, on
condition that she didn't remarry (a common stipulation in those
days). Later Edwin redrew the will, four months before he died,
removing the bar on Adelaide remarrying.
Towards the end of 1885 Adelaide asked Dyson to get
some chloroform that was prescribed by the doctor treating Edwin, Dr.
Alfred Leach. Leach would later admit that he prescribed it
reluctantly, but at the insistence of his patient. Under the laws of
the day regarding purchasing large amounts of potential medical
poisons, one had to sign a book at chemist's pharmacy as a record -
but not if the amounts purchased were small; Dyson bought four small
bottles of chloroform instead of one large bottle, and bought them in
several shops, claiming that he needed it to remove grease stains.
Only after Edwin's death, did Dyson claim to suddenly realize how
suspicious his actions were.
On New Year's Eve, December 31, 1885, Edwin
Bartlett returned from a visit to the dentist and went to sleep
alongside Adelaide in their Pimlico flat. Just before 4am the next
morning Adelaide asked their maid to fetch Dr Leach, fearing Edwin was
dead, before rousing the landlady. Edwin's stomach was filled with
liquid chloroform. It is just possible that the stories of Edwin's
alleged suicide may have been believed and his death considered free
of foul play, except that his father, who had always detested
Adelaide, indeed he had earlier accused Alelaide of having an affair
with Edwin's younger brother, became extremely suspicious and
convinced authorities to look into the death.
An inquest returned a verdict of wilful murder by
Adelaide Bartlett, with George Dyson being an accessory before the
fact, and they were both arrested.
Trial
The trial opened on 12 April 1886, attracting great
press coverage both in the UK and abroad. At the opening of the trial
charges were read out against both George Dyson and Adelaide, but the
prosecution immediately asked for the charges against Dyson to be
dropped and he was formally acquitted. This enabled the prosecution to
call him as a prosecution witness, but also made it possible for the
defence to take advantage of his testimony.
Adelaide Bartlett was extremely fortunate in her
choice of barrister: Sir Edward Clarke, possibly the finest barrister
of late Victorian England. His taking on the case was rumoured to be
due to Adelaide's mysterious father's intervention. He was able to
show sufficient ambiguities against the deceased to make the suicide
theory barely possible. His tactics with Dr. Leach, the elder Bartlett
(who was revealed to have a mercenary, ulterior motive towards his
son's estate), and Reverend Dyson were sufficient to gain his client
an acquittal. It should be pointed out that the prosecution in this
classic poisoning case was in the hands (as was traditional in England
and Wales until 1957) of the current Attorney General, Clarke's great
rival Sir Charles Russell, but that the latter was involved with
Liberal Party policies and politics connected to Parnell's Home Rule
campaign for Ireland; therefore, Clarke did not have his rival at that
rival's top legal game. The "suicide" theory gained ground, despite
evidence given that on the last evening of his life, Edwin Bartlett
told his maid to have a sumptuous dinner prepared for him on the next
day - hardly the action of a man contemplating suicide.
Adelaide was not able to testify in her own defence
(something not possible for defendants until the Criminal Evidence Act
1898) and the defence called no witnesses, although it did give a six
hour closing statement to the court.
The main forensic aid to Mrs. Bartlett is that
liquid chloroform burns. It cannot pass down to the stomach without
burning the sides of the throat and the larynx. Edwin did not have
such burns on his body; this suggests that he was actually able
(somehow) to gulp the chloroform down quickly. It bolstered the
suicide theory a little, for such rapid drinking suggested that the
drinker rushed the poisoned drink down. When the jury returned to
court after considering its verdict the foreman said: "although we
think grave suspicion is attached to the prisoner, we do not think
there is sufficient evidence to show how or by whom the chloroform was
administered." The foreman then confirmed that the verdict was not
guilty, which was greeted with "rapturous applause", public opinion
having moved in Adelaide's favour during the course of the trial.
The issue of how the poison got into Edwin's
stomach without burning him internally in the throat led the famous
surgeon, Sir James Paget, to make his famous quip:
"Now that she has been acquitted for murder and
cannot be tried again, she should tell us in the interest of science
how she did it!"
Postscript
After the trial both Adelaide Bartlett and Reverend
George Dyson vanished from public notice. The authors of The Life
of Sir Edward Clarke (1939) report that they had an "impression"
that Adelaide Bartlett later married George Dyson, but that they had
also heard a theory that the two never met again.
The novelist Julian Symons, in his novelization of
the story, Sweet Adelaide, suggested that Mrs. Bartlett
emigrated to the U.S., settled in Connecticut, and died there some
time after 1933, although others regard her post-trial life as
mysterious.
As for Dyson, Richard Whittington-Egan's study of
William Roughead's life reported that a woman in Maryland claimed in
1939 that Dyson had come to New York, U.S., changed his name, and as a
fortune hunter married and murdered a young bride, her sister, for her
estate in 1916. Alternatively, Kate Clarke reports that Methodist
church records state that Dyson emigrated to Australia.
The Bartlett case was dramatized on the BBC radio
series The Black Museum in 1952 under the title of "Four
Small Bottles." and in a four-part TV series, A Question of
Guilt, in 1980.
Media
The movie My Letter to George, or
“Mesmerized”, with Jodie Foster was "... loosely based on that of
Adelaide Bartlett, who, in 1886, went on trial for the chloroform
poisoning of her husband."
Wikipedia.org
Adelaide Bartlett
The New York Times
April 19 1886
“Adelaide Bartlett,
aged 30, is accused of having, on the last night of 1885, murdered her
husband, Frederick Bartlett, aged 40, by administering to him a huge
dose of chloroform. The Rev. George Dyson, a Wesleyan Minister, aged
27, is accused of being her accomplice in the crime…
She married Edwin
Bartlett 14 years ago. He was a grocer, 10 years her senior, with
considerable money, a large business and a religo-metaphysical mind….
Immediately after their marriage he yielded to her desire for a deep
education, and sent her to school… Her schooling ended, the two began
housekeeping at Herne Hill, a suburb of London, and were there some
five years. During this period, a child was born to them and died…
The Rev George
Dyson, a pale, serious-looking clergyman, with close-cut little
whiskers and a heavy black mustache, was preaching in the Wesleyan
Chapel in Merton Abbey, in January of 1885, when the Bartletts
appeared among the congregation… after that the acquaintance ripened
swiftly to intimacy. He was a BA of Dublin University, and Mr
Bartlett invited him to assist Mrs Bartlett in her studies… The
friendship between the two men became demonstrative. There is in
evidence a letter from Bartlett to Dyson, in September last, which
demonstrates this:-
“14 St James Street,
Dover, Monday: Dear George – Permit me to say I feel great pleasure in
thus addressing you for the first time. To me it is a privilege to
think that I am allowed feel towards you as a brother, and hope our
friendship may ripen as time goes on, without anything arising to mar
its future brightness. Would that I could find words to express
thankfulness to you for the very beautiful, loving letter you sent
Adelaide today. It would have done anyone good to see her overflowing
with joy as she read it when walking along the street, and afterward
as she read it to me. I felt my heart going out to you. I long to
tell you how proud I feel at the thought that I should soon be able to
clasp the hand of the man who could from his heart pen such noble
thoughts. Who can help loving you? I feel I must say to you two
words “Thank you”, and my desire to do so is my excuse for troubling
you with this. Looking toward the future with joyfulness, I am, yours
affectionately, Edwin.”
When the Bartletts
moved into London the husband secured a continuance of this intimacy
by buying a season railway ticket for Dyson, so that he might come to
them freely. He did come, very freely.
Late in the autumn
Mr Bartlett had much trouble with decayed teeth, involving a lot of
dentistry and threats of necrosis… A local physician attended him and
believed him to be really very ill over the necrosis and insomnia… Two
days after, at 4 o’clock on the morning of the New Year, Mrs Bartlett
rapped on the door of the landlord, calling to him “Come down! Mr
Bartlett is dead!”
The first intimation
of foul play came from the dead man’s father, a crusty old party, to
judge by the evidence. He had come to London some three weeks before
the tragical climax to visit his son on hearing of his illness. He
saw him once, but the following day the wife refused to allow him to
go to the sick room. The old man went off furious at this, declaring
his indignation. The father went again on Monday, and seemed to have
been pleasantly enough received. The son said he was much better, but
he had snakes crawling up inside him.
The next news the
father had was of the son’s death. He went at once to the house and
was put in a rage by being kept waiting 26 minutes in the smoking
room. Then Mrs Bartlett came, put her arms around his neck and said:
“Dear father, don’t fret. I will never see you want. It shall be just
the same as if Edwin was alive. The old man returned her caress.
Then he went upstairs to the corpse. His own testimony puts the thing
thus: “I leaned over him and kissed him passionately, and smelt his
corpse for prussic acid!”
The father, without
any facts to verify his suspicions, insisted on a post-mortem
examination, and one was held the following day, Jan 7. The
examination found the body healthy and a strong smell of chloroform in
the stomach. On this Government experts were called in, and the
Coroner presently began an inquest. The experts reported death by an
excessive dose of chloroform.
But upon the heels
of this came a tremendous sensation… The Rev George Dyson appeared as
a witness against the woman. His story was a strange on. On the 27th
of December Mrs Bartlett asked him if he could get some chloroform for
her, and explained that she had used it before, in nursing her
husband, as a means of inducing sleep. Dyson devoted the next two
days to procuring chloroform, going to four different druggists and
getting a little from each, on the pretense that he wanted it to
remove stains from clothes. In all he got four ounces, which he put in
one bottle and gave to her on the 19th…
The day of the
post-mortem examination, before he learned that there were suspicions
of foul play, he went to Mrs Bartlett and asked her what she had done
with the chloroform. She answered: “I have never used it: the bottle
lies there full and uncorked. This is a very critical time for me,
and you mustn’t worry me with questions. Put away from your mind the
fact that you ever gave me the chloroform. Two days later, after he
learned that suspicions was rife, he asked again what she had done
with the chloroform, and she stamped her foot angrily, and said “Oh,
damn the Chloroform!”
He himself had
thrown away his four little drug bottles the previous Sunday evening
while he was walking over Wandsworth Common on his way to preach tat
Tooting… and now she told him that she had thrown the big bottle away,
contents and all, out of a railway carriage the previous day. Later
he told her that he should make a clean breast of it. She answered:
“If you don’t incriminate me, I don’t’ incriminate you. The next day
he went and told his story to a mutual acquaintance, and, a little
later, to the Coroner’s jury.
It is already in
evidence that Bartlett encouraged his wife and Dyson to love one
another, and spoke with satisfaction of their marriage after his
death… After the death of their child the Bartletts agreed to occupy
[a] wholly platonic relationship towards one another… But in the last
months of his life it seems that the husband…was moved to regain his
abandoned privileges as a husband… Then it was, according to her
story, that she had Dyson get the chloroform, and warned her husband
that it was her intention to put some on her handkerchief, and wave it
before his face whenever he was tempted to forget the duty he owed to
the clergyman. According to her story, she announced this
determination to her husband on the last night of the old year – and
of his life – and he seemed ‘grieved, but not cross’…
There is probably no
use to contesting the proposition that the man died of chloroform.
There might be much said for the theory that he took it in a lump
himself to complete his considerate renunciation and save his wife the
trouble of waving pocket handkerchiefs before him…
[Note at
end: The result of the trial of Mrs Bartlett was given in THE
TIMES’ cable news yesterday. The jury acquitted her after being out
only a short time, and the verdict was applauded by the spectators.
Testimony for the defence shows that Mrs Bartlett retained the
chloroform bottle for a long time after her husband’s death, and that
she had been extremely anxious for a post-mortem examination in order
to ascertain the exact cause of death. Another point that weighed
heavily by the jury was made by the judge in his summing up. He said
that Mr Dyson had taken advantage of the husband’s peculiar state of
mind to supplant him in the affections of Mrs Bartlett, and he advised
that no part of that gentleman’s testimony be trustworthy]”