This article examines the modern history of the law of murder and its defining feature: malice aforethought. The main part focuses on nineteenth-century trials where, as full adversarial process took hold and societal fears about interpersonal violence grew, the meaning and scope of malice aforethought was subjected to new levels of scrutiny. Defence lawyers insisted that it required premeditation and ill-will; prosecutors sought to widen the circumstances in which it could be implied and narrow the grounds on which it could be negatived. In the first half of the twentieth century, this trial-centred perspective was subordinated to that of the new criminal appellate courts. Their attempts to reconcile conflicting decisions and accommodate an increasingly critical academic literature produced some seminal House of Lords decisions. The final part of the article examines these decisions and demonstrates the lasting influence on the modern law of homicide of canons forged in nineteenth-century trials.

This article examines how intention became key to criminal responsibility in nineteenth-century England. It focuses on trials where judges wrested with defence counsel and juries for control over its determination. The most important rule that developed to support proof of intention was the presumption that a person intended the natural and probable consequences of their actions. The article charts the origins and functions of the presumption to offer a revised view of the nineteenth-century foundations of the modern law of criminal intention.

ABSTRACTThis article examines the criminal law reform career of James Mackintosh (1765–1832). As Recorder of Bombay (1804–11), writer and Whig MP (1813–32), Mackintosh engaged with diverse aspects of criminal law. His view of the organic relationship between law, society, and public opinion, which was shaped by his Scottish intellectual background and Foxite Whig politics, was distinct from the radical and liberal political perspectives most often associated with criminal law reform. The article traces the implications of Mackintosh's approach for the practice of politics and legislation in the period and suggests cause to revise assessments of its outcomes.

In the period 1819-1920 the ostensibly strict English common law rule that drunkenness was not an excuse to any criminal charge was modified. It was formally recognized that, at least for crimes requiring proof of a specific intention, intoxication could reduce liability. Legal historians have explained this course of development with reference to the establishment of a subjective pattern of criminal responsibility. Conceived as a mental condition excuse, intoxication could only be accommodated in legal doctrine once the defendant's state of mind became the focus for investigation. This article suggests reasons to revise this account. Drawing extensively on trial reports, it offers an interpretation that attends closely to the relationships between doctrine, policy and contemporary understandings of individual responsibility for drunken violence. It argues that, in an age of temperance, doctrinal development was driven by judicial concern to narrow the scope of the excuse and it was only late in the nineteenth century, as drunkenness became mixed with insanity in legal doctrine, that there was a sustained focus on the defendant's state of mind. The article ends with a re-evaluation of DPP v Beard [1920] AC 479 (HL), which is still cited as a foundational case for the modern doctrinal approach to the issue.

Convicted felons at the Old Bailey and on assize in nineteenth-century England had no right of appeal. They had either to submit to their fate or, if they had the means, petition the Crown for a pardon. The legal avenues for redress were limited. A writ of error would lie to a superior court for legal errors that appeared on the face of the record but by the nineteenth century this was seldom used. More significantly, it was open for the trial judge to reserve questions of law for the informal and private consideration of all the common law judges. In their illuminating studies of this practice in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, James Oldham and Randall McGowen elucidate the ways in which the judiciary used reserved cases to develop legal doctrine and to shape the operation of criminal justice. The trend toward increased formalization of procedure that they identify, culminated in 1848, when Parliament created the Court for Crown Cases Reserved (CCCR). The new court adopted the existing method of reserving cases, but was a court of record that sat and gave judgment in public. It became the highest judicial forum for the determination of questions of criminal law until 1908, when it was superseded by the Court of Criminal Appeal.