Old Bailey Proceedings, 6th April 1868.
Reference Number: t18680406
Reference Number: f18680406

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT

Sessions Paper.

ALLEN, MAYOR.

SIXTH SESSION, HELD APRIL 6TH, 1868.

MINUTES OP EVIDENCE,

TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND, BY

JAMES DROVER BARNETT

AND

ALEXANDER BUCKLER,

Short-hand Writters to the Court,

ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.

THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE

REVISED AND EDITED, BY

EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,

OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.

LONDON:

BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET

Law Publishers to the Queen’s Most Excellent Majesty.

THE

WHOLE PROCEEDINGS

On the Queen's Commission of

OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY

FOR

The City of London,

AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE

COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION

OF THE

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,

Held on Monday, April 6th, 1868, and following days,

BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir HENRY SINGER KEATING, Knt, one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir GILLERY PIGOTT, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart.; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., and WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M.P., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY, Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS DAKIN, Esq.; SILLIS JOHN GIBBONS, Esq.; ANDREW LUSK, Esq., M.P., and JOSEPH CAUSTON, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS, Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR, Esq., L.L.D., Judge of the Sheriffs Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.

DAVID HENRY STONE, Esq., Alderman

WILLIAM MCARTHUR, Esq.

Sheriffs.

SEPTIMUS DAVIDSON, Esq.

CHARLES MILLS ROCHE, Esq.

Under-Sheriffs.

CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.

ALLEN, MAYOR. SIXTH SESSION.

A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**)that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.

LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.

OLD COURT.—Monday, April 6, 1868.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18680406-302

302. WILLIAM RAWLINGS LINDLEY (25), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering a forged certified copy of an entry of baptism. He received a good character.— Two Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-303

303. ALEXANDER HANNAH (23) and WILLIAM PATTERSON (34), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully concealing and embezzling part of their personal estate, they having been adjudged bankrupts, with intent to defraud their creditors.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-304

304. JAMES SWAIN (19) , to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 1s. 6d, of Henry Home and another, with intent to defraud.— Nine Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-305

305. ROBERT WHELER HACKEL (27) , to stealing 3l. of Thomas Wright Nelson, his master.— Eight Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-306

306. DAVID COLEMAN (30) , to embezzling the sums of 8l. 13s. 71/2d. and 10l. 19s. 3d,; also, the sums of 7l. 18s. 51/2d., and 12l. 17s. 5d., of Thomas Smith, his master.— Five Years' Penal Servitude . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-307

307. JAMES COLE (48) , to forging and uttering an order for 1l. 3s. 5d., with intent to defraud; also to obtaining, by false pretences, orders for 11l. 14s. 8d., 12l. 13s. 1d., and 8l. 13s., from Charles Maw. Recommended to mercy.—Eighteen Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]And

Reference Number: t18680406-308

308. ELLEN SMITHERS (18) , to unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child.— Judgment respited[Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.].

Reference Number: t18680406-309

309. ROBERT SAWYER (41) , Stealing one box, two 50l. notes, one 5l. note, a shirt, petticoat, and other articles, of Robert Pole Watts.

MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN EDWARD ELLIS . I am a porter at the Metropolitan Railway

Station, Aldersgate Street—on the evening of 31st March, Mr. Watts arrived by a train and gave me directions about his luggage—I left two of his boxes at Champion's Hotel, and returned for the third, which I found all right, and carried it to the top of the stairs—I put it down about three yards from the exit, as a fellow-servant wanted to speak to me—it could be seen from the street—when I came back it was gone—Parrott gave me some information, and I went to Barbican and saw the prisoner carrying the box—I asked him what he did with it—he said that a lady authorized him to take it to Fenchurch Street, but did not mention any number—there was no lady there—he said that he could not see her, and was just going to return with it—he was walking towards Finsbury—I took him back to the station, and gave him in custody—he had got five or six hundred yards from the station when I overtook him.

Prisoner. I had turned back with my face towards the station before you overtook me. Witness. No; you did not turn till afterwards.

CHARLES PARROTT . I sell cigar lights—on 31st March I was outside Aldersgate-street station between seven and eight o'clock, and saw the prisoner come out with a box—he went up Barbican—I told the porter I saw no lady.

ROBERT POLE WATTS . I am an ironmonger, of Melksham, in Wiltshire—Ion 31st March, at 7.30, I arrived at the Aldersgate-street station with three boxes—two of them were carried to my hotel and I directed the porter to fetch the other—I next saw it at the police station—it contained bank notes, money, and wearing apparel to the value of 45l.

FREDERICK WILLIAM DOUNES (City Policeman). I took the prisoner, and found on him an affidavit for a shawl—ho gave a correct address.

Prisoner's Defence. I was almost starving, and a young lady asked me to carry the box to Gracechurch-street, and said that she would follow me.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, feeling that it was a momentary temptation.— One Month's Imprisonment .

NEW COURT.—Monday, April 6th, 1868.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-310

310. JAMES WOODMAN (26), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession with intent to utter it, having been before convicted of a like offence.— Seven Years Penal Servitude . And

Reference Number: t18680406-311

311. WILLIAM POTTER** (33) , to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.— Nine Month . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-312

312. ABIGAIL WHITE (40), and EDWIN WHITE (43), Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin; Edwin white having been before convicted. EDWIN WHITE PLEADED GUILTY , and Mr.GRAUFURD, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against Abigail.—. NOT GUILTY

Reference Number: t18680406-313

313. EDWIN WHITE was again indicted for having in his custody eight counterfeit shillings, with intent to utter them, to which he PLEADED GUILTYSeven Years Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-314

314. WILLIAM DAVIS (54) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. CRAUFUIRD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.

FANNY WARE . My father keeps the Ship, in Camden Street, Islington and act as barmaid—about Tuesday, 25th February, I served the prisoner with a pint of beer, which came to 2d., he gave me a shilling—I tried it—it bent—I gave it to the postman, who said that it was bad—I gave it back to the prisoner and told him it was bad—he said that he did not know it, and paid me with coppers—a tall gentleman was with him, they left together—on Friday, the 28th, they came again, and I recognized the prisoner in a moment; he asked for a glass of six ale, and gave me a florin. I tried it, it was bad, and I took it up to my father, who went down with me and spoke to the prisoner, who then ran away—my father ran after him—I had served the other man first, he paid me with good money, and left before the prisoner.

Cross-examined. Q. How many customers have you in the day? A. Perhaps six—my mother is sometimes behind the bar, and sometimes the potman—the potman was cleaning the windows when the prisoner came in—no one else was being served—the other man did not pay for what the prisoner had, they came in at separate bars—the prisoner said that he would have paid me with a shilling, but he had lost it—that was not before I went up to my father.

CHARLES BURCH . I am barman at the Ship—on Tuesday, the 25th February, from 1 to 2 o'clock, I was in the bar, cleaning the windows inside, and saw the prisoner and another man come in—they called for something to drink, and Miss Ware said to me in their presence, "This is bad, is not it Charley?"—I said "Yes," and gave it to her—she passed it to the prisoner, and told him it was bad—there was no one else in the bar.

Cross-examined. Q. Were you cleaning the windows on the side that they came in? A. Yes—I do not suppose we have fifty customers in the day.

GEORGE WARE . I keep a beer-shop in Camden Street—on 28th February, I was corning down the street, and saw the prisoner and another man go into my bar—the other one came out, but the prisoner stopped there—I went into the bar parlour, and shortly afterwards my daughter gave me a bad florin—I came half way down stairs and saw the prisoner in the bar—I shewed him the florin, and said "Hallo my lord! this will not do, to try to pass bad money twice in one week, I have a good mind to lock you up"—he ran away, nearly a quarter of a mile, but was caught—he then said, "Do not lock me up, I have a wife very ill"—I took him to the station, and gave the florin to a constable.

RICHARD TARRANT (Policeman N 467). Mr. Ware brought the prisoner to the station, and gave him into my charge, with the florin—I found a good shilling in his waistcoat pocket—he said that he had lost the shilling, or he should not have given the florin.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—this florin is bad.

GUILTY He was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence at this Court in August, 1866, when he was sentenced to Eighteen Months' Imprisonment; to this he PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-315

315. WILLIAM DAVIS (25), and SARAH GLADDEN (24) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession, with intent to utter it.

MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES BRANNAN . I have been in the employ of the Mint for twentyseven years—on 23rd February, about half-past eight, I went to 97, Flower and Dean Street, Spitalfields, with ten or twelve other officers—we went to the second floor—the door was fastened, by a table being placed between it and the bed, on which the prisoners lay—by some difficulty we managed to remove the table, and got in—the prisoners were undressed in bed—I said, "My name is Brannan, I come with a search warrant, signed by Mr. Ellison, the Magistrate at Worship Street, as you are suspected of having counterfeit coin in your possession"—while forcing our way in Davis dropped this purse on the floor—it was picked up—Gladden said that it was that Bob that put us on them—I asked her who Bob was—she said, "Bob Phipps over the way, and you shall have him soon, so help me God"—I said, "His place is being searched now"—I saw Miller take two packets, containing two shillings each, from the bottom of an old chair, wrapped up in a piece of horsehair, with paper lapped between them—they were bad—she said, "I will acknowledge to the shillings, but so help me God the two shilling pieces must have been put there by that b——y Bob; you shall have him before long"—I made them get up and dress, and took them in custody—as we left we saw Bob, and Gladden said, "Oh, you b——y Bob, they shall have you before long"—some tissue paper was found on the table, which appeared to have had coin in it—that is the paper in which they wrap counterfeit coin invariably.

WILLIAM MILLER (Policeman G 148). I was with Brannan at the forcing of the door—I saw Davis drop a purse out of the bed—I picked it up—this is it (produced)—I pulled out the hair from the bottom of an old chair, and found these two pieces of paper among the stuffing, containing florins—Gladden then said, "That is what I wear at the back of my hair."

Gladden. The horsehair was on the table. Witness. It was in the seat of the chair.

——BRYANT (Policeman). I saw Miller find this horsehair on the seat of a chair, lying on top of it; the horsehair was very much worn—the table was between the door and the bedstead—the horsehair could not have been blown from there.

Gladden. There were two tables. Witness. I saw no table where the chairs were.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling and these four florins are bad.

Gladden's Statement before the Magistrate:—All I have to say is, that Davis is entirely innocent, for he was at the hospital till very late on Saturday night.

COURT to JAMES BRANNAN. Q. Do you know whether he was in the hospital? A. No; he was at home, for I was watching there all day: but he had been under treatment.

Gladden's Defence:—I do not get my living in that way, but by selling tapes. I received the shilling from a woman for making a tray cover. I afterwards found it was bad, and put it in blue paper, so that I could give it back to her.

Gladden received a good character.

DAVIS— GUILTY Fifteen Months' Imprisonment .

GLADDEN— GUILTY Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-316

316. FREDERICK CURTIS (17) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. CRAUFURD. and MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

EMILY CRUMP . I assist in the shop of Mr. Bishop, a stationer, at Houndsditch—on Friday morning, 20th March, the prisoner came in for some song books, which came to 1s. 10d.—he put down a very black florin, I gave him 2d. and he left—I put it into the till, where there was only one florin, a light one—shortly after he left I looked at the florin, tried it in a clamp, and showed it to Bishop—I left it in the till, and he showed it me next morning, and marked it in my presence—this is it, it is the one the prisoner gave me—I had seen him in the shop before, he was in the habit of coming there—I took a florin of him a week before and afterwards found a bad florin in the till—it was dark and similar to this—each time he came he paid with a florin.

Prisoner. I do not know whether it was a florin or a half-crown I gayer her.

ARTRUR BISHOP . I keep a stationer's shop, at 101, Houndsditch—on 20th March, the last witness gave me the florin—I was busy, and had not time to mark it—I was not quite sure whether it was good or bad, but in the evening I found it was bad—on the following Monday, between five and six o'clock, the prisoner came in for half a gross of song books, they come to 2s. 9d.—he put down a florin, a sixpence, and a three penny-piece—I tried the florin at once, it was bad—I gave him in charge—he was taxed with the previous occasion, and said that it was a half-crown—I had not noticed him in the shop before.

JOHN MILLS (City Policeman 924). Mr. Bishop gave the prisoner into my custody—the prisoner said that the coin on the Friday previous was a half crown and not a florin, and that he did not know that the second coin was bad—I found on him 6d., and 5d. in coppers—he gave his correct address.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins are both bad, and from the same mould.

Prisoner's Defence. I did not know that the one on Monday was bad.

GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence in June, 1867, to which he pleaded Guilty.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-317

317. JESSIE READ (23) , Unlawfully uttering a medal resembling a sixpence, but of less value.

MR. CRAUFURD and MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.

MARY TAYLOR . I live with Mr. Such, of 117, Tottenham Court Road, a confectioner—on 19th February, at a little after eight, p.m., I served the prisoner with a penny bun—she laid down a sixpence, I gave her the change, and she left—I laid the sixpence on a marble slab, and Mrs. Such picked it up—I then found it was bad, and put it on a shelf—on 24th February the prisoner came again—I recognized her, and in her hearing said to Mrs. Such, "That is the person who came in to me last Wednesday and gave me the bad sixpence"—the prisoner said, "You are mistaken"—I am sure I am not mistaken.

Cross-examined. Q. Is your's one of the principal bun shops in Tottenham Court Road? A. Yes, we sell a great many in the day—my mistress was in

the shop on each occasion, but she was at the further end on the first occasion—the prisoner had some transaction with Mrs. Such on 24th February, and paid for something—I said, "That is the woman who came in on Wednesday," and the prisoner said, "You are quite mistaken."

BELINDA SUCH . My husband keeps a confectioner's shop, in Tottenham Court Road—on Wednesday evening, 19th February, I was at the other end of the shop when the prisoner came in—I did not serve her—Mary Taylor gave me a bad sixpence next morning, which was put on the shelf by itself—on the following Monday, about the same time, the prisoner came in, and I served her with a penny bun—she gave me a bad sixpence, I told her it was bad, and sent for a constable—she said that a gentleman gave it to her—Mary Taylor said, "That is the same person who gave me the sixpence last week"—I gave the two sixpences to the policeman.

Cross-examined. Q. In the course of business, when silver is taken, would it be placed on the slab? A. Unless it is given to me—my husband was in the shop—my brother sent for a policeman.

WILLIAM YOUNG (Policeman E 162). The prisoner was given into my charge with these two bad sixpences—I marked them.

Cross-examined. Q. Did the prosecutrix say that she could not swear which was which? A. She said that she could not swear which of them she took.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These are small cross medals with the Queen's head on one side—they are the size of a sixpence and have "Victoria Queen of Great Britain" on them—the reverse side has been ground down—the edges are nerled, and they have been silvered over to represent sixpences—they are both from one die, and are of much less value than a sixpence.

GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-318

318. HANNAH BROWN (48) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

ANN EVANS . I am the wife of John Evans, who keeps the Lord Nelson, Robin Hood Lane—on 11th March, about eleven o'clock in the day, the prisoner came in and tendered me a bad shilling for a glass of ale—I gave it back to her and told her it was bad—she gave me a good one and I gave her the change—she came again next day for a pennyworth of gin—I served her—she gave me a sixpence and I gave her fivepence—I put the sixpence in an empty till—she went out of sight for a few minutes, and presently I went away—I went to get change for the only sixpence I had, and it was bad—next night, March 13th, she came again for a quartern of gin, and gave me a bad shilling—I said this is the third bad coin you have given me—she said—"Oh is it, if it is I will give you another one"—I told her about the sixpence, and she said that she would give me a sixpence, too, but she did not—I gave the bad coins to the constable—her companion ran away directly I said that I would send for a constable.

Prisoner I took 2s. 1d. for work—I do not believe it was a bad sixpence—I took it from a pawnbroker, in pledge for a petticoat.

WILLIAM ELLIOTT (Policeman K 261), I took the prisoner at Mrs. Evans's—she said that she must have taken it of some servant girl in the street—nothing was found on her—I received the shilling and sixpence.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a bad shilling and sixpence.

Prisoner's Defence. I am quite innocent of it—I was not there on the Wednesday—I have two witnesses.

The Prisoner called

MART ANN BROWN . I am the prisoner's daughter—I was at home with her all day on Wednesday, 11th March—she never went out all day—she was not able to do any work, and I wrapped a shawl round her, and she sat by the fire a little while, and then went to bed again—I was with her at eleven o'clock in the morning and all day long—she said on Thursday that she felt better, and I lent her a flannel petticoat to pawn—she went up Shoreditch, and I missed her, and she did not come back all night—I met her brother and he said "Your mother is locked up"—she had a sixpenny bit, a threepenny bit, and 21/2d. in copper for the flannel petticoat.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAUFURD. Q. What time did she go out on Thursday? A. Between nine and ten, and I never saw her afterwards—we were staying with Mary Good for three days—this was on the Wednesday, when we had only been with Mary Good two days—I never left the room on the Wednesday—I was making bead work for her—Mary Good went out on Wednesday morning from nine to ten, and came back between twelve and one.

MART GOOD . The prisoner was passing my door with her daughter—she said that she had no home or shelter, and my husband being away, I said that she might stop with me for three days—she went out on Tuesday with bugle trimming, and next day she was not able to get up—when I came home, between twelve and one, she was sitting by the fire—I went out again, and returned home between five and six, and she was still sitting by the fire—I did not see her after Thursday morning—I was not able to give her any breakfast, and she was obliged to pledge a petticoat—I never saw her again till she was in the hands of the police.

Cross-examined. Q. Was it Wednesday or Thursday morning she left you? A. Thursday morning, between nine and ten.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-319

319. ELIZABETH DAYMAN (37), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

ELIZABETH BLACKMORE . I am the wife of John Blackmore, a watchmaker, of 6, Wilton Road, Pimlico—on 19th January, I served the prisoner with a twopenny humming-top—she gave me 1s.—I gave her the change, and she left—just as she left, I tried the shilling and found it was bad—I put it in the centre part of my purse, where I put gold—there was no other silver there—in about an hour she came back—I recognized her—she said, "I have caused such jealousy at home, I must have another toy and asked for a twopenny doll—she gave me a bad shilling—I said, "This is the second bad shilling you have passed to me this afternoon, and you have, sent another woman to pass another"—she said that she had not—I gave her in charge, with the coins—my husband told her that they were bad—she said that she was very sorry, she did not know it—a woman passed a second coin about ten minutes after the prisoner passed the first—that was an older shilling, and not so bright.

GEORGE LEWIS (Policeman B 1). I took the prisoner—she said that she did not know the coins were bad; a gentleman had given them to her the previous night—these are them.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These three shillings are bad.

GUILTY Eight Months' Imprisonment .

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 7th, 1868.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18680406-320

320. HENRY ALFRED MARSAM (19), Stealing nine shawls, and other goods, of May Septimus Bridger, his master.

MAY SEPTIMUS BRIDGER . I am commercial traveller to Messrs. Crosier & Co.—I only knew the prisoner a few days previous to my employing him as a lad to carry samples—on 11th February I gave him charge of some packages, containing nine Paisley shawls, patterns of Manchester goods, and other things, and told him to take them to 118, Wood Street—I did not see the prisoner again till he was in custody, about a fortnight or three weeks after; I offered a reward for his apprehension—he was brought to me on 2nd March—I asked him what he did with the property, and why he had not put in an appearance—he said he had gone to a public-house to get some beer, that he left the parcels outside, and when he came out they were gone, and he was afraid to come back and tell me—the value of the goods was about 20l.

JOHN CHARLES BAKER . I am a driver to a commercial traveller—I know the prisoner—I saw that a reward was offered for him—I met him in March last, in Shoreditch—I took hold of him, and told him he was wanted for stealing some goods—he said he had left them outside a public-house, and they were gone when he came out—I said if he went quietly I would take him, if not I should give him in charge to a policeman—he did go quietly.

JOHN DOUGHTY (City Policeman 614). The prisoner was given into my charge—he said he had left the things outside a public-house in Broad Street, where he went in to get some beer, and when he came out they were gone—he refused his address.

GUILTY Six Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-321

321. CHARLES SMITH CARLTON (32), Feloniously forging and uttering a request for 50l., with intent to defraud.

THOMAS PARSONS . I am cashier to Sir John Kirtland—on 13th February this cheque was presented to me by the witness Grant—we have two customers of the name of Bligh—I did not recognize the signature, and did not pay anything.

Prisoner. Q. Have you any customer of the name of C. S. C. Bligh? A. I can't answer that question—we had two Captains Bligh, one in the 35th Regiment and another in the 19th, but he died in India—this is not the signature of either of those.

JOSHUA GRANT . I live at 125, Drury Lane, with my parents—my mother keeps a coffee-house there—the prisoner stopped there about four days—on 13th February he gave me this cheque, and told me to receive some cash at Sir John Kirtland's—I took it there, and they detained it—I went back and saw the prisoner, and he called me a little fool for leaving his cheque—he then gave me a letter to take there—I took it, and the detective Palmer came back with me to my mother's—I saw the prisoner write both the cheque and the letter.

Prisoner. Q. Were you not sent to Sir John Kirtland's in a cab? A. Yes, my mother gave me the money to pay for it.

MARY ANN STANLEY . I am a dressmaker, and live at 5, Gilbert Street—on 10th February I met the prisoner—he asked me to accompany him to

a place—I went with him, and stayed with him from Monday till Friday, when he was taken—he said he had 250l. in a bank in Whitehall Place—I saw him write this cheque—he said he was the Honourable Charles Carlton Bligh, and that Joshua Grant would see his brother at Sir John Kirtland's.

Prisoner. Q. On the Friday, night did not I wish to leave you at Charing Cross? A. Yes; you asked Mrs. Grant to let the boy go to Sir John Kirtland's with the cheque—you tried to leave me, but I would not let you go—I thought there was something wrong, knowing that Mrs. Grant had let you have some money.

WILLIAM PALMER . I am a detective sergeant—on 15th February I had these papers put into my hands by Sir John Kirtland—I went to 125, Drury Lane, about four o'clock in the afternoon, with the witness Grant—I there saw the prisoner, lying on a couch, very much under the influence of drink—I told him the charge—he said if I went to Dr. Jordan's, in Maddox Street, Hanover Square, he would put it all right—I said I should not go there, as I knew who Dr. Jordan was—next morning I took him to Bow Street, where he was detained all night—he said he did not understand the charge against him—I told him the charge again—he then said, "I don't know Sir John Kirtland, neither is my name Carlton or Bligh"—he had said on the previous day that he did know Sir John Kirtland, having been in the Turkish contingent—he said, "I sent the cheque, but I thought it would be returned, 'No account,' I did not expect any money to come back"—he said he was not aware that he was doing wrong when he wrote it—I believe his words were, "I was not aware it was such a serious charge (The cheque was for 50l., dated 12th February, and signed Charlton S. C. Bligh, M.B.C)

Prisoner's Defence. In writing that cheque it was not my intention to defraud Sir John Kirtland: I had an idea that it would be returned. It was done with the object of deceiving the people who had emptied my pockets very freely, in a very short time. In the course of three days I spent about 40l. with them. I thought if a person's name was put correctly it was not a forgery.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-322

322. THOMAS ARTHUR HILL (34), and CAROLINE HILL (32), Feloniously forging and uttering a request for the delivery of drugs with intent to defraud.

Mr.GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.

GEORGE BARNARD . I live at 23, Lawrence Pountney Lane—on Saturday afternoon, 15th February, I was in King William Street—the female prisoner came up to me, and asked if I would run round to Davey and McMurdo's—I said "Yes"—she gave me a penny and a letter, and said I was to bring three small parcels to her at the corner of Arthur Street East—she said the things were for Mr. Bailey, of Goswell Road—I took the letter to Messrs. Davey's, and gave it to a gentleman—in consequence of what he told me I went to look for the woman; I could not find her—I then went back to Messrs. Davey's—they told me to wait, and they went up stairs and fetched a parcel, and I took it to see if I could find the woman—I found her at the corner of Arthur Street East, and gave her the parcel.

Thomas Hill. Q. Did not she give you the penny when you brought the parcel? A. Yes.

FRANK GIPSON . I am book-keeper in the service of Messrs. Davey and

others, wholesale druggists, Upper Thames Street—on 15th February the boy Barnard came and gave me a letter in an envelope—I had my suspicions about it—I gave the boy some directions—he went out and came back—he could not find the woman—I had a dummy parcel made up and given to him—the female prisoner eventually was brought to the office by a police constable—I asked her who gave her the order—she said a man in the street—I asked her whether she was going to deliver the parcel to the man in the street—she said "Yes," and he was to be in the neighbourhood of King William Street—I asked if she knew the man—she said, "No"—I asked why she gave it to a boy to deliver if the man gave it to her—she said she did not like to come herself, and consequently she gave it to the boy to bring—I asked her if she gave the boy anything—she said "Yes"—I asked her if the man was going to give her anything—she said she did not know that—I sent to Mr. Bailey, and finding that it was a forgery, I gave her in charge.

BENJAMIN CLARK (City Policeman 806). On 15th December I saw the female prisoner at the foot of London Bridge, against Adelaide Place—in consequence of instructions I told her I wanted her to go with me a little while—she made no answer—she went with me to Messrs. Davey's—she was then shown a letter, and was asked where she got it from—she said a man gave it to her in the street, and she was to take the parcel to him, but she should not know the man again if she saw him—I told her she would be charged with uttering a false cheque to obtain goods under false pretence—afterwards, in consequence of further instructions, I apprehended the male prisoner, at 105, Britannia Street, Hoxton—that was where he lived—I told him he might consider himself as my prisoner—he said "What for"—I said "For being concerned with Caroline Hill in uttering false orders to obtain goods under false pretences"—he said "Am I to go to-night?"—I said "Yes, at once"—he said very well, he did not care, he had got plenty of gentlemen who would see him through that.

Caroline Hill. I deny that I said I should not know the man again. Witness. You did say so—you did not describe him at all.

Thomas Hill. Q. Where did you ask my wife her name and address? A. In Messrs. Davey's office—she said it was Hill, and that she resided at 105, Britannia Street, Hoxton—I afterwards asked her husband's occupation, and in whose employ he was last—she did not tell me—I found you at home that evening, you had the child in your arms—I told you your wife was in custody, and you might go and see her if you liked, and take the child—I did not say she requested you to come—you did come to the station, and had an interview with her in my presence—you said, "Good God, what is the meaning of all this"—I don't know how many times you visited her before I took you into custody on the Thursday evening—you went with me willingly.

MR. GIPSON (re-examined). This is the letter the boy brought—(read)—"February 15, 1868. Gentlemen,—I am directed by my father to request the favour of your sending, per bearer, the undermentioned articles, as we have unknowingly run short of them, Yours most obediently, James Bailey, per Jas. Bailey, junr."—the value of the things required would be about 30s.

EDWARD SNELL . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—70, City Road—the male prisoner was about three weeks in my service in August and September, 1866—I had frequent opportunities of seeing him write—I believe this letter to be his writing.

Thomas Hill. Q. Can you swear that I wrote anything in your day book during the last three weeks I was in your service? A. I really can't say, when I prescribed for a patient I should make the entry of it—I have not seen anything of your writing since August, 1866—if the quantity of drugs named in the letter had been brought to me by a stranger, I should not have purchased them—I don't remember your being in my service sixteen years since—in '66 I do not remember your asking me to let you have 10s. as your wife had been confined during the night—it might be so—the reason of your leaving me was your using such disgusting language—you were the biggest blackguard I ever met with—I do not know how many assistants I have had in the last five years—certainly not 100 or 50.

BENSON BAKER . I am an M.R.C.S., of 94, Lisson Grove—the male prisoner was in my service in October, 1866, under the name of Arthur Dowdall, until about the middle of December—I had a great many opportunities of seeing him write—I believe this letter to be his writing. I know the female prisoner—she was represented to be his wife.

Thomas Hill. Q. Is not your name George Benson Baker? A. Yes; I usually give my name merely as Benson—I have not dropped the George since I came to Marylebone—I had a shop in St. James's Street about eighteen months—I had four assistants during that time, you were the fourth—I did not once take off my coat and challenge one of them to fight—I stated at the Mansion House that I discharged you for getting drunk and stealing a blanket, and also for breaking open my till—the blanket was a portion of your bedding, but belonged to me; you had not possession of the key of the till, my brother had—it was left in the till during the day—the night you left my service yo'u threatened to shove a pallet knife through my ribs—you were drunk, and I ordered you out of the place—you would not go, and I pushed you out—you were taken before a Magistrate and bound in 50l.—I afterwards allowed you to return and redeem your character, but you behaved so badly I could not keep you—I never signed a false certificate for a lunacy patient—the cause of your leaving me was not your accusing me of having killed a patient by removing a tumour—it was because you robbed me, got drunk, abused me, and threatened to take my life.

JOHN FREDERICK ROGERS . I am a physician and surgeon, of 117, Old Street, St. Luke's—the prisoner was formerly in my employ for five days, in 1866—I have had opportunities of seeing him write—I believe this letter to be his writing.

Prisoner. Q. Will you state why you discharged me? A. For getting drunk; I received a satisfactory character with you from Dr. Williamson—five days after you were with me you presented a note to me, thanking Dr. Williamson, and stating that I was perfectly satisfied with you—I said I did not see any objection to your sending that letter—afterwards, about ten that evening, I sent you out to see a patient in Golden Lane—I don't think you were quite sober; I had a very heavy day, and could not go myself—you did not refuse to go—you were drunk when I came back—I requested you to go out, or to go to bed—you refused to do either, and I called in a policeman—I have seen your writing since you left my service—I had a letter from you threatening law proceedings—I have not got it with me.

JAMES BAILEY . I live with my father, a surgeon, at 198, Gosweh Road—this letter is not my writing—it was not written by my authority, or with

my knowledge; I have seen the male prisoner once or twice—I never authorized him to write this.

Thomas Hill. Q. Where have you seen me write? A. At my home—you came to my father to see if you could get the place which was vacant at the time, and you did, and you were there two days.

DAVID SCOTT (examined by the Prisoner). You were in my service for a week, in September last year—I don't recognize this writing as yours—I never noticed your writing (looking at a paper produced by the prisoner)—I can't say whether this is your writing.

The prisoner Thomas Bill, in a long defence, asserted his innocence, and described the evidence of Messrs. Snell, Baker, and Rogers, as the result of a conspiracy to injure and destroy him.

T. A. HILL— GUILTY on the 1st count .

CAROLINE HILL— GUILTY on 2nd count.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, as she acted under the influence of her husband .— Judgment respited .

Thomas A. Hill was further charged with having been before convicted of felony.

ABRAHAM KELLY . I am warder of the Old City Prison, Exeter—I produce a certificate of the conviction of Augustus Walter Hill (This certified the conviction of Augustus Walter Hill, on 6th January, 1857, at Exeter, of embezzlement, after a previous conviction—Sentence, Six Years' Penal Servitude)—the prisoner is the person described in that certificate.

Prisoner. I know nothing of it—I was never in the City of Exeter in my life. Witness. I can positively recognize him as Augustus Walter Hill—he was six months in my custody at one time, and a few months afterwards for seven days for breaking glass; and I was present at his conviction on 6th January, 1857.

GUILTY Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-323

323. WILLIAM PEARCE (22) , Feloniously wounding Thomas Marchant, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.

MARY ANN GORSUCH . I live at 3, Bishop's Road, Davey's Lane, Fulham—the prisoner is husband to my niece—on the evening of 2nd March, between seven and eight o'clock, the prisoner was in the garden with Thomas Marchant, my nephew—Marchant said to him, "What is it you want, Bill?"—I saw no struggle between them till I saw Pearce fall down—he jumped up again—he had a knife in his hand—Marchant closed on him to take it away, and they both fell—Marchant said he was stabbed—I went up to him, put my hands to his side, and they were covered with blood—I then ran to get assistance—I returned in two minutes with some men, who came and lifted him up—he was still on the ground, and the prisoner on the top of him—I tried to pull him off—in doing that I got under them twice, but by what means I don't know; it was in the struggle to get them apart—as soon as the prisoner got up he ran away—they were both very tipsy—before he went into the garden I heard him say he would have his revenge; he did not say upon whom—he and Marchant had been on good terms previously.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear any words between them before this? A. Marchant was persuading the prisoner to go home with him; there were no angry words between them; it only lasted a few seconds—I did not see

the prisoner with a knife cutting a stick; I believe he had been cutting a stick in the public-house, but I did not see him.

SAMUEL MARCHANT . I live in Bishop's Road, Fulham—and am the father of Thomas Marchant—on the evening of 2nd March, I was called by Mrs. Gorsuch, to my son's assistance—I went into the garden—I can't say what I saw there for I had been drinking—we had all been drinking together—I seized the prisoner and stopped it as soon as I could—I can't say whether the prisoner was standing up or lying down—he was standing up when I seized him by the hair of his head—I took the knife from him, and threw it away.

JANE LEARY . I am servant to Mr. Gorsuch—I heard cries of murder, and went into the garden, and saw Thomas Marchant, and his father, and the prisoner, all lying on the ground—the prisoner was on the top—I pulled him off—I saw the knife—I told Samuel Marchant to take it from him, and he did so—this (produced) is it.

Cross-examined. Q. Had they all been drinking? A. Yes; at a public house about thirty yards off—this took place in our front garden.

JOHN HAMILTON . I live at 5, Bishop's Road—I picked up this knife in the path, and gave it to the prisoner—it had wet blood on it.

WILLIAM MITCHELL . I live at 12, Providence Road, Fulham—in consequence of what Mrs. Gorsuch said to me, I went to her garden, with a young man named King—1 saw the prisoner jumping over the rails, and Mrs. Gorsuch shoved him a little over the rails—he fell, and I laid hold of him and took him to the station—he was drunk.

THOMAS MARCHANT . I live at Fulham Fields—on 2nd March, I was in the garden—I followed the prisoner in, and asked what he wanted—I don't recollect seeing a knife in his hand—I put my hand on him—whether I pushed him down, or whether he stumbled, I can't say—we were all drunk together—he fell first—he got up again—I heard my aunt say he had got a knife—I closed with him, to take it from him, and we both fell together, and I found that I was stabbed in the side and right thigh—I was confined to my bed ten days—my father had been quarrelling with the prisoner that afternoon, in the Mitre.

Cross-examined. Q. But you had not? A. No—I don't rightly know how I got the stabs.

WILLIAM EDWARD LEE . I am a surgeon, at Fulham—I was called to attend the last witness, he was very weak and faint from loss of blood—he had an incised wound in the right side, and one on the right thigh—it might have been done with this knife—if it had penetrated the chest, it would have been dangerous.

CHARLES HENSON (Policeman T 215). The prisoner was given into my custody—he said "They tried to stab me twice this afternoon"—this knife was after handed to me.

The prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-324

324. GEORGE GRIMES (21) , Stealing a purse and 13s., of William Wilson, from his person.

MR. FLOOD conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM WILSON . I am a fishmonger—on 19th February, I was in Billingsgate Market, about ten o'clock on the morning, and a woman touched me on the arm, and I found the prisoner taking his hand out of

my pocket—I caught him by the sleeve, and he reached his hand to a young man behind him—I missed two or three threepenny and sixpenny bits a half sovereign and a shilling or two.

ROBERT ADAMS (Police-Sergeant). I saw Wilson holding the prisoner by the collar—he said, "I give this man into custody for stealing my money"—a person standing near said, "Yes, I saw him take his hand out of that man's pocket,"—he said, "I did not steal your money, did I, you know I did not?"—I took him to the station, searched him, and found twopence-halfpenny on him.

ELIZABETH BRYANT . I am the wife of George Bryant, of Shrewsbury Court, Whitecross Street—on 19th February I was in Billingsgate, and saw the prisoner follow Wilson—I followed close behind him, for I could see he was after nothing good—he put his hand in Wilson's trousers pocket—I holloaed out, but Wilson took no notice—I touched him on the shoulder, and he seized the prisoner's hand as it came out of his pocket.

Prisoner's Defence. I passed the man, and he laid hold of me and said "Have you got my money?" I said "No, you can search me." She says she saw me pass the money to another man, but there was nobody near me.

GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkemoell, in October, 1866, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-325

325. GEORGE ENGLEHARD (37), PLEADED GUILTY to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 30l., with intent to defraud.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-326

326. JOHN THOROGOOD (39) , to two indictments for forging and uttering orders for 12l. and 5l .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

Reference Number: t18680406-327

327. DONALD HENRY KERRIDGE (29) , to three indictments embezzling various sums amounting to 23l., of John Voce Moore, his master.— Recommended to mercy by prosecutorNine Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 7th, 1868.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-328

328. FRANK MERRIDEW GOODMAN (24), PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering an order for 527l. 2s. 3d., also three orders for 527l. 2s. 3d., 40l., and 28l., with intent to defraud Charles Mills and others.— Five Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-329

329. ROBERT NEWELL ADAMS (35) , to embezzling the sums of 10l. 2s. 2d., 10l. 19s., and 5l. is. 6d. of John Brown and another, his masters, who recommended him to mercy.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-330

330. GEORGE ALDER** (32), and TOM BOLING** (29), to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Algernon Edward West, with intent to steal— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each .

Reference Number: t18680406-331

331. THOMAS JAMES SIMMONDS (27), and JOHN SIMMONDS (26) , to feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement to a Bill of Exchange, with intent to defraud; also to stealing a Bill of Exchange for 200l . THOMAS JAMES SIMMONDS Two Years' Imprisonment . JOHN SIMMONDS Eighteen Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-332

332. CHARLES WICKES (39) , to eight indictments for feloniously forging and uttering cheques for 35l. 12s. 7d., 35l. 12s. 7d., 1250l., 50l., 26l. 5s. 1000l., 55l. 5s., and 55l. 5s., with intent to defraud.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

Reference Number: t18680406-333

333. HENRY BENNETT (17) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 5l. with intent to defraud.— Nine Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-334

334. ELIZABETH HUGHES (33) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN JOHNSON . I keep the Rose and Crown, Wentworth Street, Whitechapel—about three weeks before Christmas, the prisoner and two women came in, and one of the women asked for a pot of beer, which came to fourpence—she gave me a bad florin—I told her it was bad, and she said, "This woman gave it to me," pointing to the prisoner—they said that if I would not lock them up, they would pay me that night—I put the florin on one side and lost it—at the latter end of Christmas week, the prisoner came again for half-a-pint of beer, and gave me a bad sixpence—I told her it was bad, and that if she came again I should lock her up—I kept it upstairs—I recognized her, but said nothing about paying for the beer she had had three weeks before—she came again on 24th February for half-a-pint of beer—I recognized her as soon as she came in—she gave me a bad shilling—I said, "You know this is a bad one, and it is not the first, nor yet the second one you have given me"—she said she did not know it was bad; she got it on Saturday night—I gave her in charge, with the shilling and sixpence.

CHARLES HOUSMAN (Policeman H 204). I took the prisoner, and received this shilling and sixpence—she said "I did not know it was bad, I took it last night."

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling and sixpence are bad.

GUILTY .*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-335

335. EDMUND CHARLES JACKSON (22), was indicted for a likeoffence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PATER the Defence.

ELIZA WATKINS . I keep the Quadrant Hotel, Air Street, Regent Street—on the night of 19th February, I served the prisoner with sixpennyworth of cold brandy, he gave me a crown—I gave him two shillings and a halfcrown—I afterwards told him it was bad, and sent for a constable—he had been there about a month before that, for some stout and bitter, and gave me a florin, which I kept in my hand and gave him change; after he left I found it was bad, and gave it to a gentleman who was in the bar, he gave it back to me—I kept it a few days and then threw it in the fire; it melted immediately.

Cross-examined. Q. On each occasion were there other persons in the bar? A. One gentleman, Mr. Pratt, on the first occasion—nobody else was serving in the bar—my brother and sister also serve, but were not there when the florin was given me—when I said it was a bad one, the prisoner said that he was not aware of it—he was a stranger to me.

MR. COLERIDGE. Q. What did you do with the crown? A. Gave it to the waiter, got it back from him, bent it with my teeth easily, and gave it to the constable.

GEORGE PERRY . I am waiter at the Quadrant Hotel—on 19th February, Miss Watkins called me, and I told the prisoner it was a bad crown—he said that he was not aware of it, he took it of a cabman—I said "If you will

give me your address, and are a respectable party, that will be sufficient"—he said "If you will go with me I will convince you that I am respectable"—he could have gone away if he liked—I sent for a constable.

FREDERICK TIDD PRATT . I am a solicitor, of 29, Abingdon Street—about the seoond week in January, I was in the Quadrant public-house, and saw the prisoner there—he gave Miss Watkins a crown—it was for a glass of beer, I think—after he left she put it in her mouth and it bent.

Cross-examined. Q. Was he a stranger to you? A. Yes; he was at the bar perhaps five minutes—Miss Watkins and myself were in the bar—I am pretty often there—I know her well—I do not think anyone else was in the bar—I did not notice whether any customer came in shortly after he left.

MR. COLERIDGE. Q. How long did you stay in the bar after he left? A. A quarter or half an hour.

ALFRED BROOK (Policeman C 111). I took the prisoner, and received the crown—he refused his address—I found on him a florin and a halfcrown in good money, a watch, and other things.

ELIZA WATKINS . The prisoner gave me back the change I gave him, the prisoner, for the brandy, with a half-crown, and I gave him a florin.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a bad crown, it is bent.

Cross-examined. Q. Is it very hard to produce an impression with the teeth on a crown piece? A. Yes; and it is a dangerous thing to do even with a bad one.

GUILTY .— Nine Months Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-336

336. EDWARD JOHNSON (31) was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE, conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.

SARAH COX . I am eleven years old, and live with my mother at 10, Wilson Place, Mile End—on 21st February I was in Dean Street—the prisoner touched me on the shoulder and said "Will you go over there and fetch me half a sheep's head?"—I said "No, I cannot"—he asked me again, and put a florin into my hand—I went to Mr. Hickman's shop, asked him for half a sheep's head, and gave him the florin—he said "Wait a minute,"—and ran out and fetched a policeman—when I went out the prisoner was gone—it was about half-past nine in the evening.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen him before? A. No; he wore a round hat and a white scarf, with, I think, a colored edge to it, round his neck—I think the edge was pink.

GEORGE HICKMAN . I am a tripe dresser, of 15, Back Road, Shoreditch—on 18th February, about a quarter past nine, the little girl came in for a sheep's head, and gave me a florin—I asked who she wanted it for, and she told me something—I went out and fetched a constable—I cut the florin in half, and gave it to the constable next day—I saw no one outside.

MARY ANN MILLER . I am eleven years old, and live at 12, Bluegate Fields, with my mother—on Wednesday, 25th February, between seven and eight o'clock, I saw the prisoner in Bluegate Fields—he said "Will you get me a half-a-quartern of the best gin?"—he gave me a halfpenny for myself, and a shilling and a bottle—I went to the Royal Sovereign, asked for the gin, and gave the shilling—I got some change, found the prisoner where I had left him, and gave him the gin and the change—I left him at the top of the fields and went home—I am sure he is the man.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen him before? A. No; he had a white comforter round his neck, and a hat on his head.

ANN JONES . My father keeps the Royal Sovereign—I was serving in the bar, between seven and eight, p.m., when the last witness came in and handed me a shilling, which I put in the till; there were no other shillings there, nor were any put in till that was taken out again—I served her, and gave her her change—a third one was taken at a little before eight, or later—I found it was bad.

Cross-examined. Q. How long was it in the till before you found it was bad? A. About half-an-hour or three-quarters—there were half-crowns and florins in the till, but no other shilling.

MATILDA BROWN . I am getting on for eight years old—on 26th February I saw the prisoner in the Back Road—he had on a round hat, a white scarf, and a brown jacket—it was dark, but I do not know the time—he said, "Will you go and get me half-a-quartern of gin in Bluegate Fields?"—he gave me a shilling, and a halfpenny for myself; I went to the public house, and gave the shilling to Jane Jones, who gave me some gin and ninepence change, which I gave to the prisoner.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen him before? A. Yes, but I do not know where.

MARY ANN QUIRK . I am going on for eleven years old—on 26th February the prisoner spoke to me in Bluegate Fields, and told me to go in for half-a-quartern of the best gin—he gave me a shilling and a little bottle—I went to the public house, gave the shilling to Miss Jones, and she gave me the gin, and then gave me the shilling back again—I took it back to the prisoner, and said, "Sir, you gave me a bad shilling"—he took it from me and took the bottle—he offered me a penny, but I refused it.

JANE JONES . I am a sister of Ann Jones—she brought me a bad shilling, which I gave to the policeman; I received a shilling from Matilda Brown the same night—I put it in the till, and gave her some gin and ninepence halfpenny—I afterwards found it was bad, marked it, and gave it to the policeman; Mary Ann Quirk also gave me a bad shilling that evening—I tried it with my teeth—I saw her go out, and afterwards saw her with the prisoner—I asked him whether he gave the child the shilling—he said that he did not, he never saw her before—I asked him why he took the bottle and change from her if he had not sent her, and then gave him in charge.

JOHN KENT (Policeman K 341). The prisoner was given into my charge, and I received two bad shillings from Jane Jones, and a bad florin from Mr. Hickman; I found on the prisoner some gin in a bottle, a sixpence, and threepence.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins are all bad.

GUILTY .— Two Years Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-337

337. GEORGE HARRIS (26), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM BRIEN . I keep the Coach and Horses, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square—in the first or second week in February, the prisoner came there for half-a-pint of beer, and gave me a half-crown, which bent easily—he said that he did not know it was bad, he received it for work he had done at Westminster—I gave it back to him, telling him he had better do away with it, and he gave me a penny for the beer.

Prisoner. I never was in Mount Street. Witness. I am sure you are the man.

SUSAN EVANS . On 20th February I was barmaid to Mr. Shelly, the King John's Head, 8, Albemarle Street—I served the prisoner with a pint of ale that day, and he gave me a bad shilling—I said, "Are you aware this is bad?"—he said "No"—I said, "Have you any more money about you?"—he said, "Only one penny"—he had drank half the ale, and I took away the other half, bent the shilling, and gave it to the constable.

Prisoner. Q. Did not you put it with other money? A. No, it never was in the till.

JANE DAY . I keep a public-house, in Stratford Street, Piccadilly—on 20th February, about seven, p.m., the prisoner tendered me a half-crown for a pint of ale—I said, "This is a bad half-crown"—he said, "If it is, here is a two shilling piece, perhaps you will say that is bad?"—I said, "No," and gave him back the half-crown—he had a screw of tobacco, and I gave him 1s. 9d. change—I nipped the half-crown with the champagne nippers.

THOMAS DAY . My wife gave me a bad half-crown in the prisoner's presence—I allowed him to go out, but, on consideration, gave him in charge with the half-crown.

THOMAS PICKLES (Policeman). On Saturday evening, 2nd February, I went into Mr. Day's house, and saw the prisoner tender a bad half-crown—Mrs. Day told him that it was bad—he gave her a good florin, and she gave him the change—she tried the bad half-crown, and gave it to Mr. Day—the prisoner said that he had received it in change for a half-sovereign—I took him, and Mr. Day gave me this half-crown—he was searched at the station, and 1s. 6d. in silver, 3d. in copper, a tobacco-box, and an affidavit of a coat, were found on him—Susan Evans gave me this bad shilling.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This half-crown and shilling are bad.

Prisoner's Defence:—I got the money in change for a sovereign.

GUILTY Fifteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-338

338. FREDERICK CHEVILLE (15), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

EMILY DUMBELL . I am barmaid at the Castle public-house, City Road—on 26th February, between six and seven in the evening, I served the prisoner with half-a-quartern of gin in a bottle, which he brought—he gave me a half-crown—I gave him 2s. 31/2d., and put the half-crown in the till—there was no other large money there—soon after he was gone I saw Mr. Chinnery go to the till, and try the half-crown; it was bad—on Monday, 26th February, the prisoner came again—I recognized him immediately—he brought a jug for a pint of beer, and gave me a florin—I gave it to Mr. Chinnery, and told him it was the same boy as came in on Saturday—it was bad, and the prisoner was given in custody—he did not go outside with the beer, because the jug was not given to him.

JOHN CHINNERY . I keep the Castle public-house—on 22nd February I found a bad half-crown in my till—I kept it by itself, and gave it to the policeman—on the following Monday Emily Dumbell gave me a florin, and said that the lad was the same as on Saturday—I went round to the prisoner, and asked him where he got the florin—he said that a woman gave it to him outside, who owed me some money, and did not like to come in—I told him to take the empty jug out as though he had got the beer,

and show me the woman—he went out with the jug, but I saw no woman, and gave him in custody.

Prisoner. Q. What did you say to me?" A. I said, "Carry the jug out as though you had got the beer," but you went out swinging the jug.

JOHN DAVIS (Policeman G 132). I took the prisoner, and received this half-crown and florin.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins are bad.

Prisoner's Defence:—A woman came up to me and said, "Will you go into this public-house, because I owe the gentleman some money; I will give you a penny?" I went in, and she said, "This is the boy who came on Saturday with a half-crown."

GUILTY Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-339

339. JOHN SMITH (19), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

THOMAS LANE . I am a tobacconist, of 36, Hope Terrace, Islington—on 22nd February, when it was getting dark, I saw my wife serve the prisoner with a pipe which came to 5d.—he gave me a florin; which she gave to me, and I said that it was bad—I caught hold of him, and asked where he got it—he said that he was a stranger, and had just come from Nottingham—there was another man at the door—I gave the prisoner in charge with the florin.

GEORGE DUDLEY (Policeman N 47). I took the prisoner, and received the florin—he said that he did not know it was bad, or where he got it,—he was taken to Clerkenwell Police-court, remanded to 26th February, and then discharged—he gave his name, Thomas Meeting.

LOUSIA MARSHALL . I am assistant to Mrs. Girling, a tobacconist, of Shoreditch—I remember the prisoner coming in for a threepenny scarf pin—he put down a bad florin—I called Mr. Richardson and gave it to him—the prisoner was given in custody with the florin.

FREDERICK GEORGE RICHARDSON . I am assistant to Mrs. Girling, a tobacconist—on 11th March, the last witness rapped for me, and gave me a florin—I found the prisoner there, and asked him what he had to say to it—he said that he received it for his work in the City Road—he seemed sidling towards the door, but I got in the way—a policeman came up and I gave him in charge with the coin.

HENRY WARRINGTON (Policeman G 19). I took the prisoner at Mrs. Girling's shop—he said that he got the florin from his employer in the City Road—I asked him who his employer was, but he did not say.

Prisoner. Q. Did not I tell you I worked over the City Road bridge, at the manufactory? A. You did on the second examination, and I went there, but you were not known.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These florins are both bad.

GUILTY Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-340

340. JAMES QUANT (17), and LOUISA DUNN (17) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession with intent to utter it.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

MARGARET PIPER . I am the daughter of James Piper, a baker, of Brentford End—on 16th March, about twenty minutes past nine in the evening, Quant came in and gave me a shilling for a pennyworth of biscuits—I took a new shilling of 1867 from the till and compared them—Quant's

shilling was of 1865—no other customer came in that night, and the till was not touched—my father came in at about twenty minutes to ten—went with me to examine the till, and found the 1865 shilling—he tried it; it was soft and it bent—he wrapped it in paper, and I saw it given to the police—Quant wore a brown cap and a dark coat—I saw no woman.

ALICE GRENVILLE . My husband keeps a fancy repository, in High Street, Hounslow—on Tuesday, 17th March, Dunn came in at about half-past eleven o'clock for a pennyworth of beads—she gave me a shilling—I left it on the counter, and gave her sixpence and sixpennyworth of halfpence—she gave me back a penny—I put the shilling in the till; that was the only piece of silver there—shortly afterwards Searle came in and spoke to me, and I gave him the shilling—I bit it, and found it was bad—I went to the door, and saw him give it to Ricketts, who afterwards brought it back for me to mark—I put on it, "A.G."—I saw the beads at the station when I identified Dunn.

JOHN SEARLE . I am potman at the Lion and Lamb, Hounslow—on 19th March I went into Mrs. Grenville's house, and she gave me this bad shilling (produced).

WILLIAM HAMMOND . I am gamekeeper to Mr. Brewer—on 17th March I saw Hudson and another constable in a cart, in the highway leading from Hounslow to Brentford—Hudson got out, and followed the prisoner—I saw Quant drop a little blue parcel—I picked it up; it contained eight bad shillings—I gave it to Serjeant Blake—I saw the prisoners taken.

Quant. I never dropped the money, for I never had it. Witness. You dropped it just before the constable laid hold of you.

WILLIAM RICKETTS (Brentford Police). I received information, and followed the prisoners three miles—they were walking and conversing together nearly all the way—when I got to Hounslow I saw Dunn in Grenville's shop, and Quant standing where he could see the shop—I went into the Lion and Lamb, and saw the prisoners join one another, and go towards Hounslow—they stopped at the Bell, turned round, and came back and met me—I saw Dunn go into Mr. Hundson's shop, a fancy repository—she was there five or ten minutes, and Quant waited where he could see the shop—he disappeared for some time, and she walked up and down for ten minutes, and he appeared from a turning a little distance away—I came upon one of the A Reserve, and we both followed them to Isleworth, where I stopped Dunn, and the other constable stopped Quant—we charged them—they said that they did not understand it——I then went to Mrs. Grenville, and received this shilling (produced) from Searle—Mrs. Grenville marked it "A. G."—she went to the station with me, and identified Dunn—Hammond gave some shillings to Sergeant Blake.

HENRY HUDSON (City Policeman 797). I have heard Rickett's evidence; it is correct—I took Quant, searched him at the station, and found 3s. 9d. in good silver and 2s. 41/2d. in coppers, and some beads and tape.

CHARLES BLAKE (Police Sergeant T 34). I produce eight counterfeit coins in paper—I received them from Hammond at the station.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . The two coins uttered are bad, and are of 1865 and 1866—the eight in the blue paper are also bad, and from the same two moulds as those uttered, four from each mould.

QUANT— GUILTY *— Two Months' Imprisonment .

DUNN— GUILTY *— Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-40

341 EMILY ENGLAND (17), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

WATSON HARVET . I am barman to Mr. Judge, of the Red Lion, Brompton—on 2nd March, he served the prisoner with a quartern of brandy in her own bottle—it came to a shilling—she gave Mr. Judge a crown, he handed it to me to change, and said he fancied it was bad—I bent it in two—I asked the prisoner where she got it—she said a gentleman gave it to her about one hundred yards off, at the corner of Queen Street—I went out with her but could not see the gentleman—she was given into custody with the broken pieces.

JOHN SWAIN (Policeman B 208). I took the prisoner, and received this crown in pieces—nothing was found on her—she was discharged by the Magistrate, the same day.

MARY ANN LUCAS . I am barmaid at the Cannon Tavern, 89, Cannon Street—on Saturday night, 14th March, the prisoner came for a half—quartern of rum—the barman drew it, and I stepped forward to take the money—she placed a bottle and a bad florin on the counter—I saw it was bad before I touched it—I said "I suppose you know this is bad," she said "No I do not"—I gave it to the barman—I said "Bite this in half"—he asked her where she got it, and while he was hesitating what to do, she ran from the bar—he ran after her, brought her back, and gave her in charge—I marked the coin.

TIMOTHY CARROLL (City Policeman 588). I took the prisoner, and received a portion of a florin—she gave a correct address.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This crown and florin are bad.

Prisoner's Defence. I really did not know they were bad.

TIMOTHY CARROLL (re-examined). When I took her she said she would round on the lot if I thought it would clear her.

Prisoner. I meant the young man that gave it me.— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-342

342. JOHN MAHONY (21), and ALFRED GORDON (22) , for a like offence.

MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.

TIMOTHY DONOGHUE . On 26th March I was selling newspapers by the Royal Exchange—Mahony asked for an Evening Standard, and gave me a shilling—I gave him change—I then found it was bad—I called out after him and told him so—he gave me back the change and the paper, and I gave him the shilling—I had bent it, and he bent it straight again in his mouth—he said he did not know it was bad—I said if I saw a policeman I would give him in charge—Obee spoke to me shortly after—I did not see Gordon.

SAMUEL OBEE (City Policeman 899;) On 26th March I was on duty in plain clothes in Broad Street—I followed the prisoners—they separated, and joined again at the comer of Threadneedle Street—Gordon stopped, and Mahony went up to Donoghue for a paper, and gave him a shilling—Donoghue gave him change, and then put the shilling in his mouth, and called to Mahony, "You have given me a bad shilling"—he said "Have I?"—he said "Yes, and if there was a policeman here, I would lock you up"—he gave him back the shilling, and Mahony put it in his mouth and went towards Gordon, who was in sight across the road—he walked on to the comer of Gracechurch Street, where they spoke together, and Mahony threw something

into the road from his right hand, which was the hand he had the shilling in—there is a great traffic there, and I could not see what it was—they crossed Gracechurch Street, and went through Leadenhall Market and Lime Street into Tower Street, where I spoke to an officer—I then got in front of them and stopped them—Gordon put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out what appeared to be a shilling, and put it into his mouth—the officer came up—I said, "He has put something into his mouth; be quick, lay hold of his throat"—they fell on the ground, and I saw 'the officer's hands round his neck—I took Mahony—I found a bad shilling and a halfpenny in his trousers pocket: the shilling had not been bent—on Gordon I found a postage stamp, two sixpences, and five pence.

THOMAS BINYON (City Policeman 616). I saw Gordon take something out of his right pocket, which appeared to be a shilling, and put it in his mouth—I caught him by the throat with both hands: we fell and had a severe struggle, in which he bit my left hand, and I was forced to let go, and he swallowed the shilling.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling is bad: it is not marked by the teeth: there is only a cross upon it.

MAHONY— GUILTY **— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

GORDON— GUILTY Fifteen Months Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-343

343. WILLIAM DAWS was indicted for bigamy.

MR. CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.

WILLIAM FREESTON (Policeman K 58). I took the prisoner on 16th March, at 20, Brook Street, Ratcliffe—I told him he was charged with marrying Emma West during the lifetime of Louisa Cook, and told him the date of both marriages—he said, "Well, I have had a deal of trouble with this woman"—both the wives were there—he pointed to his first wife when he said that—the second wife said, "Well, we are married; for she" (meaning the first wife) "was living in adultery with another man—the other said nothing to that—I obtained these two certificates from the parish registrar's (Read: "St. Bartholomew, Bethnal Green. William Daws and Maria Louisa Cook, married 24th December, 1850."—"St. Andrew, Bethnal Green. William Daws and Emma West, married 8th September, 1851.").

Cross-examined. Q. Have you made inquiries and found that his first wife left him a few months after his marriage, and had a child by another man, which she affiliated on him? A. Yes.

COURT. Q. At whose instigation did you take the matter up? A. The first wife came and charged him—that was seventeen years and a half after he had married the second.

GUILTY Two Days' Imprisonment .

OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 8th, 1868.

Before Mr. Justice Keating.

Reference Number: t18680406-344

344. FREDERICK GILES (30), was indicted for a rape upon Sarah Williams.

MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.

GUILTY Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 8th, 1868.

before Mr. Baron Pigott.

Reference Number: t18680406-345

345. MARY MANNING (34) , For the wilful murder of Honora Sweeney. She was also charged on the coroner's inquisition with the like offence.

MESSRS. DALEY and WOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.

MARGARET SWEENEY . I am the wife of Owen Sweeney, of 4, Providence Place, Fulham—the prisoner lived in the next room to me—I had a baby about ten months old, called Honora Sweeney—on 27th February she was sitting in the cradle in my room—I went out to chop some wood—the prisoner was in her own room, putting her baby to sleep—I left no one with my baby but another baby a year and nine months old—from the place where I was chopping wood I looked into my room, and saw my baby sitting on the prisoner's lap, agin' the fire—after that I heard a little low scream, but I took no notice, because she had been in the habit of slapping it to quiet it—I heard her say, "You little—r, she is not your mother to be crying after?"—on that I went in doors, and she was coming out of my door, meeting me—my baby was sitting on the floor; it did not seem able to cry then; it did not appear sensible—I took it up and looked at it, and it was all burnt, back and front, and the blood was coming down one side of its little thighs—the prisoner came back, and I said, "You wicked woman, why did you burn my baby like this?"—she said, "You b—r, I did not burn your baby," and took up, a chair to hit me—she was violent, and wanted to kill me—another woman took the child to a doctor—the fire was composed of coke; it was alight when I went in—the baby's clothes were not burnt a bit.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you and the prisoner been drinking that afternoon? A. No; I only drank one glass about twelve o'clock, and this was at a little after three.

ELIZABETH SPILLMAN . I am married, and live at 2, Royal Oak, Fulham—on 27th February I heard a screaming, ran to the house, and found Mrs. Sweeney in her room, and the prisoner, halloaing, trying to get in to hit her, but I prevented her—she looked excited, and her hair hung down about her—I threw her into her own room, and knocked her down several times to keep her in—she had been drinking, and was very violent—the child had gone to the hospital before I came.

Cross-examined. Q. Was she very drunk? A. She was drunk.

ALFRED TURNER (Policeman T 106). I was called to assist in taking the prisoner to the station—when she got there she said that she knew nothing about the child, she supposed it was burnt by the fender, as there was no fire—I got a surgeon, and assisted him in dressing the child—it was much burnt, but its clothes were not burnt—the bottom of the grate was about a foot and a half from the floor.

WILLIAM EDWARD LEE . I am a surgeon, of 27, Molar Park Road, Fulham—on 27th February I was called to see the child; it was burnt over the whole part of the body which would come in contact by sitting, and also on the calf of one leg; it extended up the stomach a little way—I dressed the burns, and it died the next day from the effect of the burns—I do not think it could have happened by its rolling under the grate, from

the position of it—there wore burns back and front, and between the thighs as well.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the grate? A. No; I saw the child at the police station—I saw Turner there.

JURY. Q. Was there any mark of the bars? A. No; there was no straight line—the portion of the leg which was burnt indicated that it might have happened by the leg falling against the bar.

GUILTY of Manslaughter.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-346

346. MARY NEWELL (73) , Feloniously killing and slaying John Hunt.

MR. WOOD conduded the Prosecution; and MR. DALEY the Defence.

BRIDGET HUNT . I am single, and live at 1, Denmark Court, Golden Lane—I had an illegitimate child, named John—the prisoner was my landlady—she lived on the ground floor, and I on the first floor—my child would have been four years old to-day—he was a fine healthy boy, he never had any illness—on 4th March, about half-past eight, I went to work as usual—I gave him his breakfast—I left him with Mrs. Whelan, who lives in the adjoining room to me—about four o'clock in the afternoon, I was fetched to the hospital, and saw the child there in bed—I then went back to my work—I returned home at eleven on that evening, but did not see the prisoner till Tuesday morning—I went to the hospital in the morning, and had some conversation with the child—I then returned home, and saw the prisoner talking to two neighbours—she asked me how the child was—I said "Mrs. Newell, Johnny has been telling me you put him in the pot"—she said "I don't care what ye say, ye can hang me if ye like, there was no witness to see me put him in the pot; if you do not like it, you can go"—I said "Why did not you do that to me, not to kill my boy?"—she said nothing, but shut the door in my face and went into her own room—she had never had charge of my child—I examined the child's clothes on the day it happened and they were damp up as high as he was burnt, which was over the navel.

Cross-examined. Q. How long had you lodged in the house? A. Two years—the prisoner takes in washing—my little boy used not to run into her room, because she never made any freedom with him—I was examined twice before the Coroner—I was not examined at the Police Court on this matter—I said before the Coroner "I told her he said she put him in the pot"—I do not know whether I said "threw him in the pot"—for I have not been the same since—I said "He said she threw him in the pot"—she said she did not care what was said—I mentioned before the Coroner, her saying "You may hang me if you like, and there are people to prove it—she said to me "I did not do anything, he fell over the saucepan"—the child was burnt in front, and there were soap-suds on his dress.

JOHN WHELAN . I live in the next room to the prosecutrix, and know the deceased child—my wife had the care of him, when his mother was out—between twelve and one o'clock, on 4th March, I came home, and the prisoner said, "Mr. Whelan, little Johnny is scalded"—I went into her room, and saw the child in her bed, covered up with a quilt and a sheet, he was quiet—I took him up and placed him on his uncle's knee—his clothes were all off, but his shirt, and boots and socks—the boots and socks were quite damp—his skin from the navel, was all peeled clown, it was quite off—I turned him over, and found a dark mark of the rim of the saucepan on the

thick part of the thigh behind, about three quarters of an inch long, but not wide; it was not red, but quite black, like soot—it would not rub off, it was a burn by the edge of the saucepan—the prisoner told me she had rubbed some oil over him, and he was only a little burnt—I saw no oil about—she said he had run in at the door, and there was a little saucepan which contained three pints of water, and the child fell over it—I looked about but saw no water on the floor, it was a boarded floor, there was no carpet—I saw no saucepan, I should have seen it if it had been there between twelve and one.

Cross-examined. Q. Had the prisoner, as far as you know, put the child to bed in her own room? A. Yes; there was nobody else to put it there—I saw no appearance of oil on the child—I can swear solemnly that that mark was done by the edge of a saucepan—it was not the blow of a cane, it was a black burn—there was no blister—the skin was not broken, that I took notice of—I never saw a burn like that black mark—there was no black like soot from a saucepan—she said that the child ran in and fell over a saucepan—I did not hear her say that the saucepan was behind her—I did not see a boiler full of clothes on the fire—I examined the floor, it was quite dry.

JOHN HUNT . I am the brother of the deceased's mother—I live in the same room—on Tuesday, 3rd March, I was out of employ—I was sitting on the step of the front door—the little boy saw me, and one or two more boys ran into the passage—the prisoner said to them, "Keep up to your own door," and she said to Johnny, "If you do not keep up stairs I will smack your bottom for you"—I said to him, "Come here," and I placed him on my lap—on Wednesday evening I went out at nine o'clock and returned at twenty minutes to twelve—Mrs. Whelan then had charge of the boy in the adjoining room to mine—I went there for the key of my door, and the boy followed me into my place—he wanted to go out to play, and I gave him his little whip—Mrs. Whelan went out to get some potatoes for dinner, and I. left the child in the court outside playing—I returned in half or three-quarters of an hour, half-past twelve or one, and did not see him—I was going up stairs, and the prisoner said, "Is that you, John Hunt?"—I said, "Yes, Mrs. Newell"—she said, "Come here, I want you"—I went and stood at the door, and she informed me that Johnny had been very nearly scalded—I said, "Where is he? '—she said, "There he is, "pointing to her bed—I went and pulled the clothes down, and down the lower part of his body, just on the thighs, the skin was hanging in great peels—I was so frightened I could not look at him, and I sat over on the other side of the room a-crying—I said, "Mrs. Newell, what am I to do?"—she said, "Take him up stairs and put him into bed"—I said, "Had I not better take him to the hospital, or to some medical attendant"—she said, "Oh my God! there will be nothing the matter with him, put him to bed"—she called Mr. Whelan, and said, "Johnny is scalded, Whelan"—he took the child out of bed, placed him in my lap, took out his knife, cut his laces, and pulled his boots and socks off, which where damp—he cut them off not to occupy so much time, so as to relieve the child—I carried him in my arms, in a sheet and blanket, to St. Bartholomew's hospital—I did not hear the prisoner say anything about oil, but I Saw her lay hold of some flour and chuck over the child—when I came back from the hospital, I said, "Mrs. Newell; the child is very bad"—she said, "Oh my God! there will be nothing the matter with him in the morning;" and she took the smallest saucepan and placed it in

the middle of the room, and said, "This is how it was done; there was the saucepan in the middle of the floor, and the child ran in at the door, upset the saucepan, and fell over it, and the water soaked into his clothes—I said, "Well, the child's arms are not scalded, and his outside clothing is not wet; it is a very curious affair that the bottom part of his body should be scalded in that manner"—she said, "Let you hang me if you can," and slammed the door in my face, and went up stairs—I examined the floor at that time, and saw no water.

Cross-examined. Q. If the child was put into a boiling copper, surely the water would splash about the floor when he was taken out? A. Yes; there was not a sign of water anywhere.

ANN WHELAN . I am the wife of John Whelan—I recollect John Hunt going out on 4th March—the little boy followed him—I stopped in doors, but afterwards went out for a quarter of an hour—I then saw the boy at the door, and said, "Johnny, where is your uncle?"—he said, "He has gone out in the lane"—I left the boy at the door, and returned in a quarter of an hour, and he was still there—I went up to my room, and afterwards my husband told me that the boy was scalded—the prisoner's room is downstairs—I heard no cry of "Murder!"—if anybody had called out "Murder! murder!" I should have heard it.

JOHN HORSFALL . I am house-surgeon to Saint Bartholomew's Hospital—I was there on 4th March, when the child was brought in—I saw that he was severely scalded; but I only saw the front part of his body—I did not have him moved—the scald was as high as the navel—I guess the child's length, from the navel downward, might be from twelve to fourteen inches—the scald was terminated upwards, by a distinct regular line completely round him from side to side—I did not notice any oil on him, but there was some flour; there was nothing greasy—the line was completely regular round the body—the child died on the morning of the 7th—the injuries could not have taken place by falling on a pot of hot water on the floor—the drawers were not shown to me till the inquest; I then analyzed the matter on them, and found soda and potass: that was more on the lower part.

Cross-examined. Q. Before you saw the child had you heard the accusation made against the prisoner? A. No; I did not know till the inquest that there was a suggestion that the child had been held in a boiler—if a child was held in a boiler, common sense tells us that it would splash about—the whole of the lower extremities were scalded, and it terminated in a direct line at the navel; it was discoloured from that point, and terminated perfectly regular—the feet were the only parts unscalded below that line—if I knew that the child had been held by the body and arms and dipped in scalding water, I could form a notion of how it was scalded—the water would get to the stockings—the child was scalded below the ancles—I have not seen the shoes to know whether they would fill with water, but I consider that they would protect it if put into a boiling copper.

COURT. Q. Would it make any difference if the shoes were very tight on the feet? A. It would be a better protection.

ROBERT OUTRAM (City Policeman 175). After the first inquest, I went to the prisoner, told her I was a police officer, and asked her for the saucepan—she produced a three quart saucepan—I said, "You have got something else," and she produced an eight gallon one—she placed the pot about the centre of the room, and said, "This pot had three pints of clean hot

water in it"—I said "What were you doing at the time?"—she said that she was placing the eight gallon pot full of cold water on the fire—I asked her whether the water was clean that was in the pot—she said, "Soapy and sodaey, for I was going to boil some sheets"—I said, "I shall take charge of the pot and saucepan"—she begged me not to do so, but I did—these are them (produced)—I said, "Did you scream, or halloa?"—she said, "I screamed 'Murder, murder'"—I said, "Nobody came?"—she said, "No, nobody came"—I said nothing to her about having put the boiler away—when I took charge of the pots, I asked her if any water went on the floor—she said, "No, my own clothes and the child's caught it all."

Witnesses for the Defence;—

MARGARET NORTON . I am ten years old—the prisoner is my grandmother—I was before the Coroner, but he did not speak to me—I remember the day Johnny was killed—I was going to my grandmother's, and saw him fall over a saucepan on the floor—it was the little saucepan—my grandmother was picking him up—I saw him before he fell—my grandmother was washing.

COURT. Q. Where were you when he fell? A. I came to the doorway, and saw him fall over the saucepan—he fell on his face, and the saucepan tumbled over—there was no water in the pot when he fell—my grandmother sent me up stall's to Mrs. Whelan, and she was not in—when I say "the pot," I mean the little pot—I saw water on the floor after Johnny fell—there was no water in the little pot, as far as I know, before he fell—I saw Johnny fall over the little pot, and there was wet on the floor after he fell—granny picked him up, and was undressing him, and she sent me upstairs to Mrs. Whelan—she was not in, and I came down and told her, and she sent me for his uncle—he was not in, and she took him up into the bed—he was scalded—he got scalded when he fell over the saucepan—he fell on his hands and face—he came rushing in—I only saw him fall over the saucepan—there was a good bit of water on the floor, which came out of the little saucepan—he did not go up stairs after he tumbled over the saucepan—he was waiting for his uncle.

Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. When you came down stairs, he began to cry? A. Yes; he cried before I went up stairs, he began screaming and my grandmother halloaed "Murder"—she did not halloa out "Murder" before I went up stairs, but afterwards—when I saw the boy fall over the saucepan, I did not see any water, but I saw some on the floor, when I came down—it was where she was washing, about an inch from the table—she was washing in a tub—I did not see any smoke from the saucepan when he fell—it was after he fell that she began to undress him—she undressed him to his shift—I was up stairs about a minute; when I came down, the large boiler was on the fire—she put it on the fire, to wash some sheets in it, and she left it on the fire—I did not see her take it off and put it away—the water in the large saucepan was boiling at the time.

COURT. Q. Boiling hot? A. Yes, on the fire; it was making hot, and it was hot—I do not know when she put it on—I think it was put on about half an hour before Johnny fell.

MR. WOOD. Q. Have you seen Johnny in the court? A. Yes, he had been playing about, and making a noise—when my grandmother halloaed out "Murder" I was up stairs knocking at the door—Mrs. Whelan did not

come, she was not in, and when I came down, I saw her undressing Johnny, and he was crying—he did not cry till I came down.

MR. DALEY. Q. Do you mean he was not crying when he fell over the saucepan? A. When I was upstairs he was crying, but he did not cry when ho fell over the saucepan.

JURY. Q. What did your grandmother send you up stairs for? A. To fetch Mrs. Whelan, and tell her to come down, and I was to tell her that Johnny Hunt was scalded—I am sure of that.

MARY LEAREY . I saw the child after it was scalded—I heard the prisoner say, that she had the saucepan on the floor, and he fell over it—I helped to take the child to the hospital—I saw the prisoner hand over the drawers and flannel, the drawers were wet—I have heard the prisoner say, that he was a very nice little fellow—I have seen him in her company, she took notice of him in a kind manner.

Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen her some time before the 4th March? A. No; I have only known her since 10th December—I am not related to her, they are all strangers to me.

GUILTY of scalding the child, but the Jury were of an opinion, that she did it, not with any premeditation, or malice, but as an unlawful act, and that she might have done it in a passion, and they strongly recommended her to a merciful sentence, on that account, and also on account of her age. Five Years Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-347

347. WILLIAM DONOVAN (18) , Feloniously killing and slaying Thomas Smith.

MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM DONNE (Police Sergeant X 30). On 30th March, about half-past one, p.m., I was called to Norland Road, Notting Hill, and found Thomas Smith, the deceased, lying on his back, with his arms extended, bleeding from two wounds in his face—the prisoner, who was standing by him, was pointed out to me as having struck him—I told him I must take him in custody for assaulting Smith, and somebody in the crowd halloaed out, "Step it"—I put my hand on the prisoner—he said that ho did not intend running away—he said, "I certainly struck him"—I had seen the prisoner about three minutes before, in Norland Road, when he asked me to take a man in custody for attempting to strike him with a pick, and likewise his wife (the deceased's wife)—I said, "You do not appear to have any marks," and recommended him to go to the Police-Court, and take a summons out—I asked him where the man was, and he pointed to the Queen's Arms—I knew the deceased: he went by the name of Windsor Bill.

THOMAS ADCOCK . I am barman at the Queen's Arms, Norland Road—on 23rd March, about one o'clock, the deceased came in, and had some beer—he appeared quite sober and sensible—he sat down a few minutes—somebody, I do not know who, put his head in at the door, and said something, and Smith got up and went out immediately—I looked through the window, and saw the prisoner strike Smith on the right side of his eye, and he fell—he got up, and the prisoner struck him again, and he fell with his arms extended, and did not move till the policeman lifted him up—I saw a mark on the right side of his face, under his eye—Smith made no attempt to strike the prisoner—I had not lost sight of them at all.

COURT. Q. What sized man was Smith? A. He was stronger that the prisoner.

Prisoner. When Smith came out he shoved me off the pavement? Witness. I did not see that—I could not see the door.

JOHN NORBROOK . I am a painter, of 11, Ashburton Terrace, Notting Hill—on 23rd March I saw Smith on the ground, and the prisoner skipping round him, saying, "Get up, you b——r, get up!"—the man rose, and I saw the prisonor hit him; he fell backwards, with his arms extended, and never moved—his face was bleeding, and there looked to be a wound over his right eyebrow.

WILLIAM CLEMENTS . I am a master painter, of 23, Norland Road—on 23rd March I was in the Queen's Road, Notting Hill; the prisoner and the deceased turned the corner as I did: a lot of boys were following them—the deceased had a pickaxe and a shovel, which he put down in front of him, and said to the prisoner, "If you do not go away, I will cleave you down with the shovel"—I shook my head at him, and he said, "Do you think I am going to be talked to by a man like that?" or "a boy like that"—I walked away—he had not got the shovel in his hand at that time—the deceased was bigger and older than the prisoner: I should say he was sixty.

LOUISA DAWSON . I live at 6, Charles Street, Queen's Road—about half-past twelve on 23rd March I saw the prisoner and Smith come down the steps of No. 1, where they both lived in the same lodgings—I live at No. 6—I knew them—Smith said, "If you do not go away, I will rip you open with this pick"—they walked on, and Smith went into the Queen's Arms, Norland Road—the prisoner walked away—I saw Smith come out of the Queen's Arms—I thought they were going to fight, and ran to tell Mrs. Smith—Smith went up to the prisoner in a fighting attitude, but I did not see that he struck at the prisoner, at all—Smith put up his fists at the prisoner, but I saw no blows struck.

GEORGE FIELD . I am house-surgeon at Saint Bartholomew's Hospital—on 22nd March, at three o'clock, Smith was brought there, with two slight wounds, one on his face and one over his right eyebrow, and a recent fracture of his right arm—he was partly sensible; he was suffering from symptoms of concussion of the brain; he died about half-past twelve that night—I made a post mortem examination, and found a fracture of the skull, extending to the base, and a large quantity of blood effused in the ventricles, on the right side of the brain—the cause of death was effusion of blood on the brain—if he was struck on the face, and fell on a hard substance, that would cause it; the fist itself would not do it, but falling on a kerbstone would—I think it was caused by falling on a kerbstone, but he must have had a blow on the face—he might have fallen down from being drunk.

Prisoner's Defence:—When I went up stairs, Smith had a row with his wife. I heard her halloa out, "Murder!" He ran down into the room where I was, with a pick, and I ran to the door to shut it. He shoved against me, and wanted to come in. I shoved against him, and would not let him come in, so he broke the hinge off the bottom of the door, and then called a policeman, who said, "You must summons him." I had no sooner told the policeman than he came up, and we fought.

NOT GUILTY .

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 8th, 1868.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-348

348. THOMAS LEWIS (36), PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling and stealing, on 28th February, 6l. 8s. 7d., on 11th March, 6l. 0s. 5d. and 4l. 0s. 6d. of James Hudson, his master.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-349

349. EDWARD CORNELIUS (53) , Stealing fourteen yards of Hessian cloth of Charles Besley and others, his masters.

MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. PATER the Defence.

THOMAS LLOYD . I am a constable, employed at Nicholson's Wharf, Thames Street, and have been for twenty years—the prisoner has been twelve or fourteen years in the service of the firm, and for the last three years in a permanent situation—on the 9th March, about a quarter past seven, I stopped him as he was leaving the wharf—I asked him if he had anything about him belonging to the firm—he said "No"—I then took him into the office, and found under his waistcoat this piece of cloth (produced), wrapped round his body—I asked him where he got it from—he said, "I shan't tell you"—I told him I should give him into custody, and he asked me if I would look over it until morning—I said I could not do that—he then said he found it in the dummy, that is a lighter moored to the premises—I have never seen any cloth in it during the time I have been there—I gave him into custody, and then went to his house, where I found several other pieces—two pieces exactly corresponded with that I found on him—and I also found a piece with the name of the firm branded on it.

Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been employed at the dock? A. Twenty-one years—my duties are to regulate the traffic, and to protect the property—the prisoner has never complained of me, or reported me on any occasion—tea and coffee is not sold on the wharf—that I swear—I stopped the prisoner as he was leaving the premises—it was round his body, underneath his clothes—I took him into the office—no one was present but myself—it is not customary for the men to make aprons out of new pieces of cloth—sometimes the old stuff is given to them—the men have not borne a good feeling towards the prisoner—the stuff is worth about fourpence a yard.

ANTHONY WILSON MONGER (City Detective). On the evening of the 9th March I went to Gravel Lane—it is a sort of pawnbroker's shop which the prisoner keeps—I there found eight pieces of cloth, some hanging up in the shop, and some underneath the counter—I think I found the piece that is branded, in the bedroom—I also found 120 duplicates.

RICHARD MCQUEEN (City Policeman 805). I was present when the prisoner was taken into custody—he made no reply to the charge.

WILLIAM COLE . I am one of the wharf foremen at Nicholson's wharf—on several occasions we have missed cloths of this description—I have looked at those pieces, they belong to the firm.

WILLIAM GEORGE HART . I am the manager of the business at Nicholson's wharf—this cloth is similar to that of the firm—we have missed pieces for the last fifteen months—the prisoner had no authority to take it away—it is used for wrappers, and is worth about fourpence a yard.

GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of his long service. Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-350

350. JOSEPH VAGLICA, Stealing three thermometers, part of a clock, and other articles, the property of John Bennett, his master.

MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCLAFE the Defence.

JOHN BENNETT . I am a watch and clock manufacturer, of 65, Cheapside—I

have about twenty men in my service, employed in repairing clocks—in the upper part of the house there is a shop in which five men are employed, of which the prisoner was one—he has been in my service five or six years—he was employed from nine in the morning till half-past seven, and his wages were 50s. a week—he had no authority to get wages from anyone else—previous to 15th March, my attention was directed to the work coming from the five men—the shop did not pay—I called the prisoner down, and spoke to him with reference to a self-registering compass—I desired him to stay in my lower shop till his work was brought to me—he did not stay, but in the hurry of business he got away—I went out of the shop for three or four hours, and on my return I found him in the workshop—I asked him for the machine—he said, when my manager's back was turned he had got it away to his own house—I said, "Why, do you mean in my time; you take goods out of the house. For whom did you make it?"—I had some difficulty in getting an answer, and then he said, "No, I have not taken it to my house, but I have taken it to Captain Albini's, for whom I have made it"—he is connected with the Italian Embassy—I had not heard from the prisoner at all that he was doing work for Captain Albini—I then sent for the officer, Cheshire—I had told the prisoner that unless he gave me the machine on which he had been at work I should give him in charge for stealing my property—he then left with the officer and returned in about half-an-hour, and brought a box with him—I demanded to see the contents of the box, and I found it contained the self-registering compass on which he had been at work for Captain Albini—this is part of it (produced)—the other part was taken away the next morning by another workman—when the box was brought back it was left upstairs—these are some of the internal works—there was also part of an electric clock, and a piece of material on which he was at work for me, some pieces of metal which correspond with metal I have in my establishment, and a pinion collect—I had not given him any authority to remove any of my materials—I asked him to account for having made this for Albini, because it must have taken two or three months to have made—I think he said it was made in his own time—I said, "How could that be, when you left at half-past seven in the evening, and left all the machine behind you"—then I said, "About the materials; where did you get the materials?"—he said, "I got the framework where you get your frameworks, from a man in Clerkenwell," and he showed me a receipt for which he had paid 1l. 5s. for the rough frame—I then said, "How about all the other wheels, and the escapement"—I think he said they were made with his own materials—I at once looked at he material, and found it to correspond with mine, and I told him that it was not so—of course I cannot swear exactly to brass—I then said, "How do you account for taking the electric clock"—he said, "Oh, I bought that of Mr. Baines"—he is the patentee—I said that I knew better, because I knew where the clock had come from—one of the other workmen told me, in the prisoners presence, that the clock was taken from a customer in Camden Town, for which I substituted a clock of our own make—I had substituted an ordinary movement for the electric movement—when I said they were my materials, I do not think he made any reply—these three thermometers were brought to me the next morning by the detective—they are such as have been in my stock—there is one with the name of French on it—I succeeded Mr. French about six years ago—and

one has some holes in it which were made to hang it up outside my shop—I did not give him any authority to take them off the premises.

Cross-examined. Q. When was he given in custody? A. On the evening that I detected it—he was not charged with stealing the thermometers—they did not appear until the next day—I did not direct the constable to take him into custody—the constable asked him to accompany him to his house—he was not taken into custody at my establishment; I left it to the constable—the officer said, "Have you any objection that I should search your premises" and he went with the officer—he was brought back to my house with the box—I afterwards learned from the officer that the box was not found at his lodgings, but at a tobacconist's—my establishment is very large; a ball falls there by the time from Greenwich—the prisoner did not assist me in making improvements on the ball—he did some work on the machinery, I kept him for the purpose—I don't think he repaired it at a great saving of expense—he made some suggestions on it—he was a very excellent workman, and I put him on the most delicate work—he has shown me machines which he said were his own invention—he offered to lend me a clock with a one-wheel movement—I do not think I put it in the Exhibition—I will not swear that I did, or did not—I do not know what became of it—I know he showed me a thing that was worthless, I do not know whether it was in the case or not—I am not able to answer what was in my case—I should not exhibit a worthless thing—if he, as the foreman, were to put it in the case, it would have been done—Captain Albini is not here—he refused to come—I asked him, and he said he would take the privilege of the Embassy—he said that to me, at the Mansion House—I afterwards found he was paying for the defence, and I charge him with having surreptitiously employed my man—I have seen a receipt of Captain Albini's for 25l.—I made the charge about the clock on the remand, that was about a week after the robbery—I don't think I charged the pieces of metal at the first remand—but I think I did the thermometers—I felt most wronged in the making of the machine for Captain Albini, and being robbed of my time—I did not first instruct Mr. Sleigh in this matter; I met him in a railway carriage, and we got into conversation, and he told me he had been instructed, but that he had not time, he was so engaged that he could not give proper attention to the case—he did not say he would not prosecute in a case like this—the value of the pinion collett is about 3d.—the price of the thermometers is about 1s. 6d. each—the one with the whales would have to be repaired before it could be sold—it has been exposed outside the shop—it is good now—it would not require as much to repair it, as it would to make a new one.

MR. BESLEY. Q. What is the value of the clock? A. About 5l., although what I principally complain of is the loss of my time—I never gave him any authority to take anything from my establishment—or any thermometers, whatever their value—I sell a good many thermometers in a year, but not so many as I used to—eight years back I used to sell twenty thousand in a year.

EDWARD CHESHIRE (City Detective). On 5th March, about six o'clock, I went to Mr. Bennett's place, in Cheapside, and saw the prisoner in the workshop—I said, "I have seen your master, Mr. Bennett, and he tells me that You have taken away a box containing a machine and some clock movements"—he said, "Yes I have, it is mine"—I said, "You have taken it

away in a secret manner, which leaves your master to suppose it is his property; where have you taken it to?"—he said, "I have taken it to a friend of mine, Captain Albini"—I told him that Mr. Bennett had sent round to inquire about that, and had found he had not sent it there—he then said, "Well, I have taken it home"—I asked him if he had any objection to my going with him to his house and fetching it—he said, "No"—we then started to go to his house, 23, Arthur Street, Peckham—after going some distance towards London Bridge, he said, "It is not at my house, but I will tell you where it is; it is at a tobacconist's shop, in Queen Street, Cheapside: come with me and I will show you"—I went with him to the shop, and he asked for a box he had left there, and this box (produced) was handed to him—I took the box to Mr. Bennett, the prisoner going with me—it was opened in the prisoner's presence, and he said that everything in it belonged to him—I then asked him if he had any objection to my going to his house, and he said, "No; I will go with you"—I went there with the prisoner, and one of Mr. Bennett's shopmen; and in the front room I found two thermometers hanging up, and one in a room upstairs—I said to him, "These have got Mr. Bennett's name on; how came you in possession of them?"—he said, "They were given to me by a shopman named Rolls, at Mr. Bennett's"—I asked him if Rolls had any right to give them to him—he said, "No"—I told him he would have to go to Bow Lane Station with me—we went there, and I there charged him with stealing—these three thermometers, part of the electric clock, the three pieces of brass, and the copper were shown to the prisoner before the thermometers were found—he said they all belonged to him.

Cross-examined. Q. Did he not have a conversation with Mr. Bennett about everything in the box? A. He made his replies to Mr. Bennett, not to me—I heard him say he had bought the clock of Mr. Baines—I don't know where he is to be found—it was on the night of 5th March I found the clock, after he had been spoken to about these things—I went and searched his house the same night, and then took him to the station from there—one of Mr. Bennett's men, named Mean, went to the house with me, and also to the station—I signed the charge sheet myself—Mean did not give him into custody—he said he had no right to have the thermometers, and I charged him with stealing them—I let Mr. Bennett know the next morning—he was not charged with stealing the machine at the first examination, but it was mentioned—my charge was for the thermometers—he was charged with stealing the electric clock on the second examination, and it was further gone into on the third—I cannot say whether the prices of metal were mentioned at the second examination—the pinion collett was gone into the third examination—the pieces of metal were mentioned, but I don't think they were charged—he did not object to my searching his house—he went with me voluntarily—he was not in custody then.

MR. BESLEY. Q. Where did you get the collett from? A. I had it on the day of the examination at the Mansion House, from a witness named Baldwin—I had seen it in the box before that.

JOHN BALDWIN . I am in Mr. Bennett's employ—I recognize this collett (produced) as one of my own casting—I have got the mould from which it was made—I am quite positive it is my workmanship—I did not give it to the prisoner—it is Mr. Bennett's property—I saw it several times in the place after I had cast it.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you only cast one from the same mould? A.

No, ten or twelve—they are cast in sand, and as soon as the metal is set, the sand is turned into a tub and they are picked out—I used up the others for the job I made them for—this was on stock—it would be used now for anything it would come in for—it is worth about 4d., and was made about eighteen months ago—it was then put in my drawer under my bench—I did not see it again till it was shown to me—I gave information to Mr. Bennett about the machine, and he sent for the prisoner to know what machine he was making—I have not since been made foreman—I am just the same as I was before, and I have the same wages.

MR. BESLEY. Q. What did you tell your master? A. That a certain party was making a machine in his time, and had been for some time—I had noticed the prisoner at work on the machine for about two months past, I should think—the whole of the machine is not here; there is another part somewhere, I think—I have the mould from which the collett was made—the one I have produced is the same as the collett.

WILLIAM HENRY ROLLS . I am a shopman to Mr. Bennett—the thermometers in stock are under my charge—this one, with four holes in it, I have seen before—it was formerly placed outside the door, with the barometer, with a ticket on it—it was moved from there about eighteen months ago—it was then given to the prisoner for the use of the workshop—I never gave him permission to take it away—there are two more, one of which is similar to the last one—I never gave him either of those—I did not know of their being at his house.

Cross-examined. Q. Has not one French's name on it? A. Yes; I cannot speak to that one—the one with the four holes, which had been exposed outside the door, is not fit to be sold—we should not sell it as it is—it would be almost as expensive to repair it as a new one would be—we sell them at 1s. 6d.; it would cost that to have it resilvered—it is worth about 1s. now—there are thousands of them about—I gave it to the prisoner to take upstairs—I cannot recollect what I said when I gave it to him—he asked me for a thermometer, and I told him he should have one—I do not know that I said anything when I gave it to him—a man named Bloxam was with us some years ago—I do not recollect that he told me to give the prisoner a thermometer—it is five or six years ago, and I cannot remember whether he did or did not.

MR. BESLEY. Q. What makes you say that it was for the use of the workshop? A. I should not have given it to him to take away, and he asked for it for that purpose—I cannot recollect any words that were used on that occasion—I gave it to him for the use of the room in which he worked—I know nothing about the other thermometers.

JAMES WREFORD . I am a clockmaker, employed at Mr. Bennett's—I remember him having a customer in the Camden Road—we had an electric clock from him in exchange for another—I saw it at Mr. Bennett's—I saw it separated from the case, and the movements taken out—I believe they were taken into stock—when I saw the clock last it was in the workroom at the shop—this clock (produced) is very similar to it in appearance and shape—I saw it last about three or four months ago, in the prisoner's possession—I did not see him at work at any time on the clock that was taken in exchange.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you say the movement was something like the one you took from the clock? A. I believe that to be the movement—I remember taking something similar to that—the case was returned to

the customer—it was fitted with another movement—that was about five years ago—I saw it in the prisoner's work drawer, under his board—I believe his was the shop where the movement was put in—this box (produced) stood on one of the workboards in the shop—it belongs to Mr. Bennett—it was brought up into the shop to put the movements in to keep them from getting dusty—we do not usually use such boxes as that to put work in, unless it is a large job—a coil and magnets were attached to the clock—they are not in the clock now—we found coils and magnets in the shop, but I cannot swear to them positively—they are similar to those that were attached to this piece—they are still there.

MR. BESLEY. Q. Do the magnet and coil make the clock go? A. Yes—I saw it at the Mansion House, and compared it with the movements there—they are similar and proper for it.— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-351

351. JOHN STEDMAN (28) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of David Breeze, and stealing therefrom four pounds of bread, one cake, and other articles, and afterwards breaking out of the same.

MR. WOOD conducted the Protecution.

DAVID BREEZE . I live at 33, Great Chapel-street, Westminster, and am a coffee-shop keeper—on Sunday night, 15th March, I went to bed about ten o'clock, and got up about twelve to let some lodgers in, and I then saw the street door safe—I did not let in the prisoner as one of the lodgers—I then bolted the front door—all the house and the things in it were safe at twelve o'clock—about two o'clock I heard a policeman's rattle—I got up, ran down stairs, and saw the front door open—I went into the street, and saw the contents of my shop window scattered about the pavement outside, pies and plates and all—a coat and a pair of boots were lying on the pavement outside the door, which the prisoner owned when he come back—I carried the things into the shop—the prisoner was brought back in six or seven minutes by three policemen—I had never seen him before—he was searched and owned the coat and the boots—one of the policemen said that he had heard a noise inside the house, and had stopped outside and stood at the door, and the prisoner came out with a bundle, and when he saw the policeman he threw it down and ran away: that he sprung his rattle and ran after him, and two more policemen met him in, Queen-square and brought him back—the prisoner was asked if the coat and boots were his, and he said, "Yes"—the property is worth about five or six shillings.

Prisoner. Q. Did you not leave your window open and the gas alight in the house? A. No; the gas was all right.

WILLIAM WEBBER (Policeman B 272). On the morning in question, about two o'clock, I was on duty in Great Chapel-Street, Westminster—just as I passed the coffee-shop, I heard a noise inside—I stopped, and saw the prisoner open the door of the house from the inside, and come out—he had a bundle, a coat, and a pair of boots—when he saw me, he dropped the things and ran away—I ran after him and sprung my rattle—I ran about fifty yards into Queen Square, when he was stopped by two policemen, and taken back to the house—the prisoner had no coat or boots on—when we got back, I asked him if the coat was his, and he said both the coat and boots were his—I asked how he got in, he said he came in at the door—I then took him to the station—I afterwards searched the place, and found marks on the wall leading to the first floor window—the prisoner said the

window was open—there were wet marks inside the room—the window was open enough for a man to get in.

COURT. Q. Were they wet marks? A. Wet footmarks; his boots were wet, it was wet under foot—there were marks on the wall outside, it had been scratched down as if by the feet—I found a knife and three duplicates on him—I gave this account to the prisoner, when he was brought back to the house—he said nothing, he was sober—he said "I went in, and thought I should get something to eat."

GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment

Reference Number: t18680406-352

352. GEORGE DUKE (17), and JOHN MURPHY (17) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of John Muggeridge, and stealing therein thirteen gowns, and other goods, his property.

MR. M. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN BRAND (Policeman N 60). About half-past five, on 21st March—I was in Shepherdess Walk—I saw the prisoners come out of No. 72, the prosecutor's house—Murphy had a bundle on his head, and when he saw me he threw it at me, and ran away—I cried "stop thief," and caught Duke—he said "you have got me all right"—another constable came up, and took Murphy, and I indentified him as the man who threw the bundle at me—I took Duke back to 72, and found the door on the jar—I rang the bell, and went into the shop—the prosecutor said in their presence, that he had missed some goods—he indentified the goods in the bundle as his property—this crowbar (produced) was found under the counter, in the shop.

COURT. Q. Did the prisoners say anything? A. Murphy said he was not the man, when he was brought back—but I have no doubt that he is.

Duke. Murphy is not the man that was with us.

Murphy. What he has said about me is all false.

JOHN ANNIS (Policeman N 175.) I saw Brand stop Duke—I caught Murphy about three hundred yards away—he was running—he said, "I am not the man, I shall not go back with you"—I said I should take him back to Shepherdess Walk—he said that he was not the one, and would not go back with me—I took him back, and Brand identified him.

COURT. Q. Did you lose sight of him? A. He was only out of my sight about two minutes—I am not sure he is the person who ran away—I cannot say that he is the same person that I lost sight of.

SARAH MUGGERIDGE . I live at 72, Shepherdess Walk, St. Leonard, Shoreditch, and am the wife of John Muggeridge—I keep a wardrobe shop—I was called up by the police, a little before five on this morning—they told me something, and I looked about my shop and missed goods, value about 40l.—I identified the things in the bundle—I fastened the house at ten o'clock, and went to bed about three—this crowbar is not mine.

The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate:—Murphy says "I am innocent of the crime I am accused of. I was walking by the Eagle, and saw two policemen catching two men, and he halloed out "Stop thief!" and I heard it, and ran to catch one of them; and the man came after me and said, "You are one of them." Duke says, "I had been to the Eagle, and as I was coming home I went to a coffee stall, and I met some men. They gave me some rum, and I became stupified. They asked me to go home with them, and a young man got down the area, and they were in ten

minutes; and the smallest of the four put a parcel on our heads. Murphy was not the man who had the parcel.

COURT to JOHN BRAND. Q. Are you certain Murphy was the man who threw the bundle at you? A. Yes—he was not more than three yards off—the catch was broken off the window—it was daylight.

DUKE— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted at Clerkenwell, in March, 1866, in the name of Robert Smith, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .MURPHY— NOT GUILTY .

FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, April 8th, 1868.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18680406-353

353. WILLIAM NEVILLE (34), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing twelve pounds of tea, the property of the London Chatham and Dover Railway Company, and SOLOMON SOLOMONS (71), and MARY ANN SOLOMONS (57) , to feloniously receiving same.

NEVILLE.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

SOLOMON SOLOMONS.*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

No evidence was offered against MARY ANN SOLOMONS.— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-354

354. WILLIAM JOHNSON (28), and THOMAS MORTIMER (60), GUILTY to stealing thirty printed books, also thirty-three books, three hundred and five quires of paper, and one hundred and forty-three quires of paper, the goods of Samuel William Partridge, the master of Johnson.

JOHNSON.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

MORTIMER.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-355

355. JOB SUTCH (19), WILLIAM SKIVINGTON (21), and JOHN HENNESSY (23) , Stealing 405 pounds weight of lead, the goods of John Kemp and others. Second Count with receiving the same.

MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM MARSH (Policeman Y 5). About ten minutes past four, on the morning of the 10th March, I was called to St. James's Church, Pentonville Road—the East door of the church, I found had been forced open—I found a bundle, containing two surplices, and other vestments, in front of the altar—after searching the Church, I went on the roof, and found a quantity of lead had been cut and removed—I remained in the Church till about ten minutes past six o'clock, when I saw three persons—Such and Skivington passed to the railings, and Hennessy had a costermonger's barrow—I saw him put a heavy roll of lead into the barrow—Hennessy lifted up the barrow, and the others assisted him in drawing it—they went a short distance, when they ran away up John Street—they were taken into custody within five minutes—I was present when the lead was compared with the roof, it corresponded—it is 405 lbs. weight.

Hennessey's Defence. I was standing about. The prisoners said they were going to do a morning job, and I could earn a shilling. I was not aware it was stolen. GUILTY .— Nine Month's Imprisonment each .

Reference Number: t18680406-356

356. EMILY FELSTEAD (14), MARY ANN FARNISH (15) , Stealing a jacket, the goods of Alice Jackson ; and CHARLES MILLARD, for receiving the same.

MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.

FELSTED and FARNISH PLEADED GUILTY>.— Judgment respited.

ROBERT OUTRAM (City Policeman 175). Last Sunday, the 29th, I was on duty about half-past ten, in the Finsbury Pavement, and took two little girls into custody—I went with Farnish to Golden Lane, and she pointed out a house, I went into the house and found Millard there, on the ground floor—I asked him if he knew the girl—he said "Yes"—I said "What do you know of her"—he said, "She brought two jackets here this evening"—I asked him where they were—he said, "I have taken them away, and sold them at a house in Flowers Yard"—he said, "I don't know the number of the house"—he went with me to Mrs. Atkins's—I asked to see her, but she was in bed—I asked her in the hearing of Farnish if she had any jackets brought to her—she said the prisoner, Millard, had brought two jackets to her house, saying he had had nothing to eat, and begged Mrs. Atkins to buy them—I asked her to get up and go with me to the station, she did so—Millard said the girls brought the jackets to him, and he did not know they were stolen.

SARAH LYALL . I live at Blue Heart Court, Bell Alley, London Wall—I had charge of the child, Alice Jackson; she is about three years and nine months old—I saw her on Sunday, 29th March, about five or six in the evening, playing in the court—I saw the jacket safe on her back about five in the evening—I saw the child again about a quarter before six, without the jacket—it is worth about 4s.

ROSINA SMITH ATKINS . I am the wife of Samuel Atkins, and live at 27, Flowers Yard—I don't know Bell Alley, I only know the prisoner Millard, by his bringing the jackets into my place—I gave them up to the policeman, who came to my house, between eight and nine o'clock, on the night of 29th March—prisoner said he had not broken his fast that day—I offered him a shilling, for the jacket—he said he would not take it—he went away, and came again, and asked 1s. 6d., for the two, and when I was in bed, the policeman came—the prisoner told me he had been to a place, to leave the jackets, and they were not at home.

COURT. Q. Did he say when he had been to this place? A. No; but he said that a lady had promised to come to his place to buy them.

Re-examined. Millard has no shop, it is a small room, up one of the courts, in Golden Lane—he does not carry on any business.

Millard's Defence:—I had been out with some oranges, when I found the two female prisoners in my place, with the jackets, which they asked me to sell; I asked if they were their own, and they said they were, I went and sold them to a lady, for 1s. 6d. I showed the constable the place.

MILLARD.— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-357

357. GEORGE JOHNSON, (alias TREWINARD ) (18) , Stealing eight shillings of Henry Matthews, from the person of Caroline Matthews.

MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DOUGLAS the Defence.

SIDNEY WILDGROVE . I live at 13, Albermarle Street, St. John's Square—On 24th March, about quarter past eleven, I was standing opposite Bennett's shop in Cheapside—I saw the prisoner in company with others—he put his hand to the prosecutrix's pocket—she went on to Bow Church, and then

crossed the road, followed by the prisoner, and another man—I saw the man put his hand into her pocket, and take out the purse—I struggled with the prisoner, and he threw the purse into the road—some one held the prisoner, while I went and picked up the purse.

Cross-examined. Q. On which side of the street were you, when you saw the prisoner? A. The right hand coming from the Mansion House—I was walking towards St. Paul's—I never saw the prisoner before—the other man was much older than himself—the prisoner was in front of me, close by—it was his left hand he put into the woman's pocket—he was on the right hand side—there was nothing in his hand the first time—I did not tell the woman to take care of her pocket—I followed them close behind, about three or four yards off—I was still close behind when the prisoner put his hand into the woman's pocket the second time, and saw the purse.

CAROLINE MATTHEWS . I am the wife of Henry Matthews, residing at Aston, near Guildford—I was in Cheapside on 24th March—I felt someone push my dress—I believe I was standing near the church—my husband first told me they had my purse—I said, "Yes, I've just lost it"—this is the purse—there was about 11s. in it, I believe.

Cross-examined. Q. When you turned round to see who had taken your purse, did you see the prisoner then, at once? A. I don't know; I had no reason to suppose he had taken it—I did not feel anyone make an attempt at my purse before—I had not noticed the prisoner—I first noticed my husband when I turned round—I am not certain whether the last witness spoke to me—there was a crowd of people.

WILLIAM FOSTER (City Policeman 627). I took the prisoner into custody from the first witness, who gave me that purse, and charged him—the prisoner made no answor—he refused to give his address when asked at the station—the purse contained 8s. and a seal.

GUILTY .*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-358

358. JOHN WELCH (19) , Stealing a purse, containing 4s. and six pieces of paper, of Louisa Oxley.

MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STARLING the Defence.

WILLIAM GREEN (City Detective 290). I saw the prisoner in Aldersgate Street railway station, carrying a cape on his arm—I saw him put the cape on and return to the station—he went by the side of the prosecutrix—I saw him put his hand into her dress pocket, and take out a purse—he then came to Aldersgate Street—I there asked him for the purse—he said he had not got it—I held him by the left hand, and picked up the purse—while I was doing so, he escaped—I called to the witness Bates to follow him—I saw him again on the 23rd—I gave a description to Baulty, who apprehended him—I knew him by sight; I had seen him twice before.

Cross-examined. Q. What time of night was this? A. Half-past seven—the lady was standing in the passage, by the pay-box—the prisoner came out of the station first, and then returned—he was alone when I saw him on the 23rd.

JOSEPH BATES . I am a greengrocer, and live at No. 5, Christopher Court, St. Martin'8-le-Grand—I saw the prisoner coming out of the railway station—I saw the police constable take him in the Broadway—I saw the prisoner twice, once in the doorway in the railway station, and again at an ironmonger's shop.

Cross-examined. Q. You only saw him as you passed? A. I ran after him.

LOUISA OXLEY . I am a single woman, and reside at 4, Windsor Terrace, City Road—I was at the railway station—that is my purse; it was shown to me at the police-station; it was safe a few minutes before—I went away from the station in a cab—an envelope was in the purse, containing my address at Bristol.

ROBERT BAULTY (Police Constable G 145). I received from the witness Green a description of the prisoner, and found him on the 23rd—I took him to the station, where he was seen by Green—when I charged him he said, "You know I would not do such a thing so near home; I always go further afield"—he gave a correct address.

GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-359

359. JOHN COLLINS (22), and CHARLES SMITH (28) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of James Bag, and stealing thirty-two coats, his property.

NR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. JENNER defended Smith, and MR. W. SLEIGH defended Collins.

JAMES BAG . I carry on the business of a clothier, in Mile End—on the 26th I left the goods all safe before I went to bed, at twelve o'clock—at half-past three in the morning the police called me up—I went and looked at the premises—the door leading into the court was open—afterwards I went to an unfinished house, and found thirty-two coats, my property—there were some other goods in a yard near.

Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. How do you know these goods? A. By the tickets on them.

HENRY HUGHES (Police Constable K 30). I was on duty on the morning of the 27th February—my attention was called to a mark on the wall of an unfinished house near Mr. Bag's shop—I listened, and then, assisted by the other constable, we got over the hoarding—I rushed to the back, and saw a man getting over the fence, at No. 64—I sent the constable to go and prevent any more escaping—I also saw the prisoner Smith try to get over the fence twice, but he fell back—I then went, and the prisoner Collins rushed at me—I knocked him down, and Smith struck me with a clothes prop, and then, dropping the prop, caught me by the coat and privates—I knocked him down, and waited and called for the constable to help me—there were eleven coats in that yard, besides two coats which I took off Collins's back, in the station—there were other goods found in the yard.

Cross-examined by MR. JENNER. Q. What sort of a night was this? A. Rather dark—the prisoners were at the rear of 64, a few yards off—there are only seven houses—I got up, and went along the wall—there is a passage at the rear of those houses.

JOHN HARRINSON (Police Constable K 88). I assisted the other constable.

Collins said he had been to the Surrey Theatre, coming home late, and seeing the goods lying inside, he opened the door of the new building, went in, and took them. GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each .

Reference Number: t18680406-360

360. JOHN PETERS (19) , Feloniously wounding John Brennan, on the left arm.

JOHN BRENNAN . I live at No. 4, King John's Court—on 20th February last, I went into the Prince Regent public house, there was a quarrel going on there—I did not see the prisoner inside at all—when I went out I felt a

blow on my shoulder—I turned round and saw a man with a dagger about to strike me a second time—I stepped back, and a man named O'Brien took the knife away—I felt a burning sensation in the shoulders—I was taken to the hospital.

Cross-examined. Q. You were not sober? A. No—the quarrel was inside amongst foreigners—there were a great many people there, both outside and in—it was a very dark night—there was a lime light over the house—I was there with some friends—one is a witness—the other witness is a stranger—I did not see the man strike me, but I saw him try to give me a second blow—I saw the man taken up before I became insensible.

PATICK O'BRIEN . I live at 13, Star Street, Commercial Road—on the night in question, I was in Ratcliffe Highway about 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoner stab Brennan—I could not swear whether it was with a knife or dagger—I was on the opposite side of the way—I ran across, and as he was making a second attempt, I held his right arm—I tried to take the dagger out of his hand—the policeman came up then—I went with Brennan to the hospital.

Cross-examined. Q. You were the worse for drink, too, were you not? A. I was—I had my senses—I was about twenty yards away—I ran to him—I do not remember saying, "I snatched the knife away"—I tried to do so—this occurred near the lamp.

PATHRICK MOORE (Policeman H 134). I was in St. George's Street, and saw the witness O'Brien holding the prisoner—I saw something in the prisoner's hand like a knife—O'Brien was struggling with him—I did not see how the prisoner parted with the knife—the other constable picked it up—the prisoner was sober.

THOMAS DORSEY . I live at Bell Alley, Limehouse, and was at the Prince Regent, on the night of the 20th February, with the prosecutor—there was a disturbance there—I left the house before Brennan, about five minutes—Brennan was walking away—the prisoner I saw walk behind him, and stab him in the shoulder—I saw the blade of a dagger, but not the handle—I saw O'Brien stop the prisoner's hand as he tried to stab again.

Cross-examined. Q. You saw O'Brien before the first blow? How far off were you then? A. I did not see O'Brien then—I was not on the same side of the way—I did not see O'Brien near the prisoner—I had been drinking, but not too much.

EDWARD BALSON (Policeman H 200). On the morning of the 21st February, about 12.30, I saw a row, turned on my light, and picked up the scabbard about three yards from the prisoner—I then picked up the dagger from under his foot.

Cross-examined. Q. There was a great crowd about the place? A. Twenty or thirty people—some foreigners three or four doors off.

FREDERICK MACKENZIE . I am house-surgeon at the London hospital—on the 21st February, Brennan was brought to the hospital—he was intoxicated—he had a wound on the left shoulder, extending through the muscle of the shoulder four inches, and about three-quarters of an inch in length—he had lost a great deal of blood—such a wound would be caused by an instrument like that produced—he seemed very feeble—The "burning sensation" is a very correct term—he would feel that immediately after he was stabbed.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, 1868.

Before Mr. Justice Keating.

Reference Number: t18680406-361

361. RICHARD WILLIAM WOOLCOT (39), was indicted for the wilful murder of Thomas George Woolcot.

MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.

GEORGE JEFFREY . I reside at 2, Crescent Place, Hoxton, and am assistant at a bootmaker's—the prisoner lodged in the same house about three weeks—I thought he was a married man, and I said so before the Magistrate, but he is not—he has been married twice—he had five children; but only four living there—Thomas George, the deceased, was between nine and ten years of age—I last saw him alive between five and six in the afternoon of 17th March—I believe there were two children older than him—he was the youngest by the first wife—I saw his body at the dead-house on the next day—between five and six on the 17th he went out for some bread for me; he got it and brought it me—that was the last time I saw him—I was at home the rest of the evening, but I heard no more of him—at the time I last saw him I believe the prisoner was up stairs, but I can't say—I had not seen him since the afternoon—I saw Mrs. Woolcot two or three times that evening, to as late as between eleven and twelve, when the policeman came—the deceased appeared to be in good health—he was a very well behaved little boy.

Cross-examined. Q. You have known the family for three years, I believe? A. Yes—during that time I have had frequent opportunities of observing the prisoner's conduct—it has been that of a kind father and husband, and a sober steady man—ho sometimes took one or other of his children out for a walk—he was very fond of all his children—I have seen the boy out in the street—I recognize these (produced) as the slippers he used to wear—I noticed once that they slipped off as he was walking.

Jury. Q. Was he walking or running at that time? A. Running—they were usually very much down at heel.

JAMES SLATER . I am a barge carter, residing at City Garden Row—on the night of 17th March, between eight and nine o'clock, I was on the canal bank, near tho Kingsland bridge, which is about three quarters of a mile from the New North Road bridge—I was towing with a horse—the pathway is about fourteen feet broad where I was; but by the New North Road bridge it is about five feet six—I have measured it—the path is quite level, it has been newly paved within the last month—as I was going along the towing-path I noticed a man and a boy by the Kingsland Road side bridge, that leads into the dock—they were going towards the New North Road bridge, and so was I—they passed me—I had a barge, and was going very slowly—as they passed I said to them, "Keep to the wall side and you will be right, my horse won't hurt you, and then you won't get into the canal"—the boy was about two or three yards Behind the man, in the middle of the path; they were walking fast—I did not see the man's features—he had dark clothes on, and a little low round hat; and the boy had dark clothes on—I never saw his features—I afterwards saw the man at the lock house, but I did not see his features—it was the same man that passed me.

CHARLES THOMPSON . I live in Graham Road, City Road, and am a barge carter—on the night of 15th March, about half-past eight, I was on the

Kingsland side bridge, at the entrance of the basin—I saw Slater there—about that same time a man and a boy passed me on the bridge; the man was walking very swift, and the boy was shuffling two or three yards behind him—I can't swear to the man—they were going over the side bridge going along the towing-path—that is no thoroughfare for strangers—only for the company's servants, and those employed on it.

Cross-examined. Q. But you have seen persons there? A. Oh, yes, plenty—I frequently see persons there that have no business there.

JOHN KEITH PRITCHARD . I live at 10, Edward Street, Limehouse Fields, and am apprenticed to a waterman and lightarman—I am nineteen years old—On Tuesday night 17th March, I was on the towing path of the Regent's Canal—when I got to the New North Road bridge—I saw the prisoner kneeling down on his knees, with his hands in the water—I was about a yard from him when I first saw him—I passed him, and when I had got about two yards past him, I asked him what he was doing, was he drowning a dog—he said no, a boy was in the water—he did not speak particularly loud—I went back, and pulled off my coat and handkerchief, and tried to get the boy in—I saw the hair of somebody's head, out of the water, and the tops of the fingers, I could not tell whether it was a boy—his hands were moving about—the prisoner asked me if I could swim—I said "No"—and he said, "He can't swim because his legs are tied"—I folded up my handkerchief and threw it behind the back of his head, and drawed him to the shore—I was able to reach his head—I got the handkercief behind his head, and pulled him in so that the prisoner could have got hold of him if he liked—I pulled the boy's head close to the bank—the prisoner was then kneeling down, in the same position that I first saw him—a packet of sugar fell out of his pocket, and he turned round and picked it up—I believe he had on the same coat that he has now—I don't know from what part of his coat the sugar fell, I did not see it fall—I only saw him pick it up, and put it in his poc ket—and by that time the boy went down—I told the prisoner to catch hold of the boy, because he was sinking, and he turned round and picked the sugar up—I was able to hold the boy's head with tho handkerchief two or three seconds—it was very dark; there were no lamps on the towing path, there was one on the opposite side, about 100 yards off—there was no lamp near enough to show any light—when the boy disappeared, he did not come up again—I saw nothing more of him—the prisoner did not say anything—I told him the best thing we could do was to go and get the drags—he went with me to get them, to the lookhouse, that was about one hundred yards from the spot—we got the drags, and went back to the spot, and a man came with a lamp, to show us a light—the prisoner did not seem to be in a flurry while we were going for the drags—I said to him "Who is the boy?"—he said it was his own son—I asked him how he came down there—he said he had sent him for half-a-pound of sugar, two hours previous, and he had come down there to look for him, and he had found him, and was going to take him to the City Road—by that time we had got to the lock-house—in going back to the spot I asked him how the boy got in the water—he said he slipped in and his slippers slipped off, and he pulled these slippers out of his pocket, and said, "Here are his slippers"—tho soles were a little damp, as they would be from walking on the towing-path, not wet—we then proceeded to drag the water, but were not able to find the body—a barge came by and disturbed us—the prisoner Raid he would

go and fetch a policeman—he did not go—he was asked to leave his name and address, and while he was writing it down Policeman N 408 came up—I continued to drag the water after the policeman came up—the prisoner did not assist in dragging—I was dragging with the drags—only one person can do it—he was standing looking on—I did not hear him make any observation while I was dragging—I dare say I kept dragging an hour—the policeman took the prisoner to the lock-house, and another policeman came and took me—I was present next morning, when the body was found—I pulled it into the boat—it was found about eight yards from the spot where I had seen it floating—the body was dressed—I saw nothing round the legs; he had stockings on—the legs of the trousers were down, as usual—when I first saw the prisoner, and passed him, I did not hear any noise; I heard nothing said by him, or anything.

Cross-examined. Q. It was so dark that you could not see him until you got close up to him? A. Yes—I could have seen anything on the ground; I could see about a yard off—I saw the prisoner about a yard before I got up to him—I don't know whether I could have seen a small object a yard or two off—when I first passed him, he was leaning with his face almost close to the water, with one hand in the water, and the other hand resting on the bank—he was not kneeling down when I asked him whether he was drowning a dog; he was then standing up, stooping, and looking around him—when I took off my coat, and tried to reach the boy with my handkerchief, his head was too far off to reach with my hands—he was too far off, at that time, for the prisoner to reach him—when I knelt over with my handkerchief, the prisoner reached out as far as he possibly could—he was trying to pull the boy in as well as me—it was before I knelt down that he asked if I could swim, and when I said "No," he said, "He can't swim, his legs are tied"—I have never heard that expression used towards a person who could not run or was awkward with his legs—the prisoner remained with me while I was dragging, until the policeman took him away—I asked him for his address, and he began to write it down; he said he would give it me—at the time he knelt down to pick up the sugar, I had the handkerchief over the back of the boy's head—I stated before the Jury, and before the Magistrate, that I brought the body close to the bank—I think the prisoner could then have laid hold of the boy—he might have got hold of him before he slipped away from the handkerchief—I said to the prisoner, "Catch hold of him, he is slipping out of the handkerchief—I did not say he had slipped—the head did not rest long in the handkerchief—while we were attempting to pull the boy out, neither I or the prisoner called out for assistance—I am in the habit of going along the tow-path—I know it well—it is bricked all the way along the side—there is a kerbstone at the edge of the water all along—the bridge is on an arch—where I saw the prisoner and the boy was right under the bridge, as near the centre as possible—the path is narrower under the bridge—coming from Kingsland bridge, to get into the road from the towing-path, you would have to go under the New North Road bridge, and up the other side—until I spoke to the prisoner, and asked whether he was drowning a dog, he did not turn his face towards me, or take his hand out of the water—I touched him in passing, but that did not make him look up.

MR. SLEIGH. Q. At any time, while you saw the prisoner, did he manifest any concern, or make any complaint, or express any regret about what had happened to his son? A. No, not during the whole time—I did not

call for assistance—I don't suppose I was there quite a minute, before the body sank—I have seen three persons drowned before.

JURY. Q. Do you know whether there are any weeds in the canal about there? A. There are not many, if any; there are none at the top of the water—there are weeds in different parts of the canal—the prisoner did not say that his son had told him his legs were tied—I should not think there are any weeds under the bridge; in fact, I know there are not, because it is barely wide enough for the barges to go past, and if there were any weeds, the barges would knock them off—I did not encounter any weeds while I was dragging that night, in the morning we did—where we found the body, there were a few weeds there, because there is hardly any traffic just there, where the boy was—the prisoner did not speak to me at the time I passed him, I spoke to him after I had passed him two yards, because I thought he was in a peculiar position—I thought he was drowning a dog—he did not ask me for any assistance, he never spoke till I had passed him—I did not see anything in the water till I went back—when I asked him for his name and address, he began writing it; he did not finish it—I don't know what became of that paper.

HERBERT STAMMERS (Police Sergeant N 4). About ten minutes past nine, on Tuesday night, 17th March, I was on duty in the New North Road—in consequence of information, I went to the lock-house, on the towing path, on the Regent's Canal—I saw the prisoner there and four or five others—I told the prisoner I had been told that he had thrown his son in the Canal—he did not appear at all excited when I told him that, he was sitting down, "If such is the case it amounts to murder, but as there is no witness here present that saw it done, I shall not take you in custody on that charge, but I must detain you, and take you to the Police Station"—he did not make any reply at that time—three or four minutes afterwards, when we got on the way to the station, about sixty or seventy yards from the lock-house, he said, "I sent him out about two hours ago for half-a-pound of sugar; as he did not return I went to look for him, and I found him, and we took a walk together, as we generally do, and when going under the arch he all at once slipped in, and his shoes slipped off; I tried to get him out but could not"—I then left him at the station—I was afterwards present at the charge was read over to him by the sergeant on duty—I have not got the charge sheet here—he made some observation at the time, I don't remember the exact words, but it was a denial of the charge—he said he was innocent of the charge—I went to the canal, and the spot was pointed out to me by Pritchard—I remained there till one in the morning—I did not assist in dragging that night, I did next morning—I know Crescent Place, Whitmore Road, where the prisoner lives—I have measured the distance, and sketched a slight plan of the place (handing it in)—the prisoner's house is the second from the towing path—the wall of the house next to the towing path is ten feet high, it is 620 yards from the prisoner's house to the place where the boy was drowned—that is, measuring along the towing path—there is no access to the towing path from the prisoner's house—you would have to go to the Queen's Road Bridge—the are only two entrances, and from one to the other ia 1, 670 yards—that would be the nearest way of getting to the towing path—he could not get down by the Kingsland Road bridge, nor anywhere between the two points, except by getting over a wall, not between Queen's Road bridge, till you come to a little entry by New North Hoad bridge, 220 yards on this side, at the lock-house—there

are grocers' shops in the immediate neighbourhood of the prisoner's house—it would not be a short cut to those shops to go under the bridge—the towing path is a public spot, but it is not very frequently that you see strangers down there—there is no lamp there, a person might see something at twenty yards' distance, but they would not be able to discern very well what it was—it is very dark under there—I have measured the breadth of the footway under the bridge where this happened, it is five feet six inches—the footway is quite flat, the side of the canal is bricked up—a person going under the arch would have to go near the edge of the water—you cannot walk upright close to the wall, you have to stoop—I can walk erect within about three feet of the water, without touching my head, and I am five feet nine—I searched the prisoner that night, and took from him this half-pound packet of sugar in brown paper (produced), and this piece of cord, and this pair of slippers he took from his trousers' pocket, and gave me—I also found a small flint stone, and a duplicate, some papers which I returned to him—I did not examine them, there was some writing on them, I did not notice what it was, I gave them back to him at the station that night—I don't know what became of them, subsequently—I was present next morning when the body was found—I found it—it had on trousers and stockings, but no shoes or slippers—I drew the body up to the surface, and it was handed into a small boat by Pritchard, the legs were quite free, there was nothing round them—I did not see the mark of any ligature.

JURY. Q. Was the cord wet that you took from the prisoner? A. No, it was coiled up as it is now.

GEORGE BRADSHAW (Policeman N 408). On Tuesday night, 17th March, about ten minutes to nine—I went to the lock-house—I saw the prisoner sitting down there, he did not seem excited a bit—when I went in ho said "I am the man, and if you will go down there you will find him," pointing towards the water—you can see the water from the lock-house, it is at the side of the water—I then left, and went after the witness Pritchard, who was down by the water.

Cross-examined. Q. On your going into the lock-house, I believe the prisoner got up at once, and said "I am the father"? A. "I am tho man"—I am quite sure that was what he said, at the station—he said, he had sold a lot of paper, and this cord was tied round it.

FRANCIS JOHN BUCKLE . I am a physician and surgeon—on the morning of 18th March, I was called on to examine the dead body of a boy, at the dead house, at St. Mary's Church, Islington—I made an examination of it, it was in a very good state of health—there was no organic disease—it had every appearance of having been well looked after—there was some food in the stomach—there were no external marks of violence—I examined the legs, but could discover no mark whatever of any ligature having been placed upon them—if a ligature had been placed there, however slightly, I imagine there would have been some mark; there was not the slightest—a handkerchief tied on outside the trousers would leave no impression—death had unquestionably resulted from drowning.

Cross-examined. Q. If a handkerchief was tied in a knot, would not the effect of the water be to tighten it? A. I should question whether it would have any effect.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was read as follows:—"All I can say in, I am perfectly innocent."

MR. WARNER SLEIGH to HERBERT STAMMERS. Q. When you went to the prisoner's house, did not Mrs. Woolcot tell you that the boy had been sent but about two hours before for some sugar? A. Yes.

The prisoner received a good character,— NOT GUILTY .

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, 1868.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-362

362. FREDERICK TOOMEY (20), and HENRY SOLOMON (29), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a pair of boots, the property of George Sapworth —SOLOMON further PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted at Westminster, on 5th March, 1860.— Nine Months' Imprisonment each .

Reference Number: t18680406-363

363. WALTER ROSE (21), WILLIAM TANT (18), WILLIAM ADAMS (18) , to stealing in the dwelling-house of Mary Ann Ashby two spoons, three pairs of boots, and other articles; and afterwards burglariously breaking out of the same— ROSE further PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted at Clerkenwell, on 6th February, 1865, in the name of Thomas Yeates.— seven Years' Penal Servitude .—TANT and ADAMS Twelve Months Imprisonment each . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-364

364. CHARLES FRANCIS McKENZIE (39) , Unlawfully publishing a libel on Colin McKenzie, with intent to extort money from him; eight other Counts varied the manner of laying the charge; 10th Count, unlawfully publishing the said libel in a letter to said Colin McKenzie, but not charging any intent. He PLEADED GUILTY to the 10th Count , andMR. POLAND for the prosecution offered no evidence on the others. Six Months' Imprisonment, and to enter into recognisances .

Reference Number: t18680406-365

365. SAMUEL COLLINS (22), and HENRY SPRIGGS (33) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 70l., with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. SLEIGH and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

GEORGE FRANKLAND . I am principal cashier to Messrs. Prescott, Grote, and Co., bankers, of Threadneedle Street—Mr. Richard Scully, of Gee Street, St. Luke's, keeps an account at that bank—on Monday, the 13th January, this cheque (produced) for 70l. was handed to me by someone, and I paid it in gold—I cannot say to whom—at the time it was presented I thought it was signed by Mr. Scully—it is on one of our printed cheques—(cheque read) "10th January, 1868—Pay Mr. T. Hammond or bearer 70l. Signed Ricliard Scully."

EDWARD TARVER . I am a cashier at Messrs. Prescott, Grote, & Co.'s, of Threadneedlo Street—on Tuesday, the 14th January, this cheque for 70l. (produced) was presented to me over the counter, and I paid it in gold—to the best of my belief, Spriggs was the person who presented it—I had never seen him before—I can't swear to him, but to the best of my belief he is the person—it is on one of our forms (cheque read) "10th January, 1868—Messrs. Prescott, Grote, & Co.—Pay T. Hammond or bearer 70l. Signed Richard Scully."

Spriggs. I have never seen the gentleman before in my life.

RICHARD SCULLY . I am a picture-frame maker, at 251/2, Gee Street, st.

Luke's—I know Collins—he was in my service as carman about twelve months ago—between Saturday night, 11th January, and Sunday morning, the 12th, my counting-house was broken into—my attention was called to it at 10 o'clock on Sunday morning—I had an iron safe in my counting, house, where I kept my account-books and cheque-books in a drawer—I found a false key in the lock, but we could not get it out—the side was smashed in and the iron plates smashed—the key would not open the safe—I keep an account at Messrs. Prescott & Co.'s—my cheque-book was in the drawer of the safe—I examined it some days after and found that two blank cheques had been torn out, these produced are the two—my desk was also forced open—I had a number of paid cheques in the desk, and they were all scattered about the place—this cheque, dated 9th November, 1867, "Pay Mr. T. Hammond or bearer 7l.," signed by me, was amongst them—the two cheques produced, and made payable to Mr. Hammond, are not signed by me or by my authority—I believe both to be in the handwriting of Collins.

Collins. Q. What sort of character did I bear while I was with you? A. Not a very good one—I had my suspicions and discharged you, and you threatened to serve me out for it—I will not swear that you robbed me of anything, but I suspected you—I could not prove it, or else I should have done so.

MARTHA PEARMAN . I am the wife of John Pearman, and live at 16, George Yard, Old Street, St. Luke's—I have known the prisoner Collins from a child; he has lodged with me for the last three years, and he lodged with me before that—I know a person named Robert Larkman, he used to come and see Collins—I know the prisoner Spriggs from his coming to see his sister at my place, he is the brother-in-law of Larkman—on Saturday, 11th January, Collins and Larkman were together at my house—they went out between 10 and 11 at night—they came back about 4 on Sunday morning—I was up with a sick lodger, and I heard them come in—they went into Collins's room—I saw Collins about 10 o'clock next morning, he owed me about seven or eight weeks' rent at half-a-crown a week—as he was going out he said, "Now missis, I am off—it's neck or nothing now"—I said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "I have got something that will enable me to pay you to-morrow"—he said he had not got it in his possession, Bob had got it—he did not say what it was—he said he had got something that would enable him to pay me, and he would send it to me in a short time—he said Bob had got it, and he (Collins) should get into trouble—this was about 10 o'clock on Monday morning—about an hour after Larkman brought me 2l.—on the same night, about 9 or 10, I saw Collins again—he said, "Bob is making a great flash with his money; I shall get into trouble, and not him, for I wrote the cheques for 70l., and not him"—he left his lodgings early on Tuesday morning—I did not know he was going to leave—he never came back—the next I heard of him was that he was in custody—he had been out of work eight or nine months—I have seen him write; I should say that these two cheques are in his handwriting.

THOMAS KINTCH . I am a milkman, and lodge at Mrs. Pearman's—on 12th January, I was awake all night with a bad cough—Collins was lodging there at the same time, in the next room to me—I heard him come in, about three or four in the morning, and someone with him; I don't know who it was—his brother was in bed at the time, and he said, "Sam, where have you been?"—Collins said "I will tell you soon"—they got into bed, and I heard Collins say, "Did I not hammer into the old b——in the corner?"—his

brother said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "Be quiet and you will know all about it in the morning, we have got them all right"—I could not hear exactly what was said, that is as near as I can go—they were talking and laughing all night—they got up at half-past seven and went out—I did not hear the name of the other man mentioned—I heard Collins call him by the name of Bob, that was all—they were all three in the same bed.

WILLIAM WATKINS . I am a private in the 30th Foot—I was formerly in the service of Mr. Scully—Collins was there with me about six months—I know his handwriting—these two cheques are in his writing—on Sunday, 19th January, I was at my father's house, and Collins came to pay me a visit—I had seen him about a fortnight before—when he came on the 19th, he had all new clothes on, and a watch and chain—he had nothing of the sort when I saw him before—we went out for a walk together, and we saw "Who's Griffiths?" on a wall—he said to me "Look there 'Who's Griffiths?' Bill, I will tell you who he is, he is a b——fool"—I said "Why?" he said, "Because we smashed one of his safes all to pieces the other night"—we went round Peckham for a walk, and I asked him where abouts it was that he smashed the safe—he said "You know very well, you will find it out in time, I shan't tell you; "—he said 'We had two 70l., I made them out and went to the bank and got the money, and Bob stayed outside for me"—he did not say whether he presented one or two—he put his hand in his pocket and showed me some money—I don't know what it was—we went into the Albany Road, and he gave me a sovereign to pay for a pint of ale—we had a great many pints of ale—he said that Bob was showing off a good bit with his money; that if anybody rounded on him he would stick a knife in him, and he would as soon stick it into me as anyone else—it was a clasp knife, with a saw and corkscrew—I did not make any answer to that—I saw him a few days afterwards, on the day I was sworn in—I met him on Holborn Hill, and had something to drink with him—I said "I know. where you did that job" he said "Well, you know all about it now"—I said that Mr. Scully had stopped me in the street and asked me about it, and as I had worked for him, I thought I should get into a bother about it—he did not say anything to that—I saw him again after that, and he said he had written out two cheques, and one was not so good as the other, and he had heard since that Bob had presented one, and got 70l., and had not given him any money out of it.

Collins. Q. Did I not borrow some trousers and a coat from you on that day? A. No; you had some new things—they were not trousers that you brought from me three weeks previously—you had a watch in your pocket—I was sworn in on Wednesday, 10th February—I am sure it was on a Wednesday, but I am not sure it was the 10th—I saw you on Holborn Hill on the Wednesday—you could not have been at Portsmouth—I saw you three times on three different days—I saw you when you were taken into custody, and on the Sunday, and again on Holborn Hill.

GEORGE SCOTT (City Detective). I took Collins into custody on 14th March, in the neighbourhood of Saffron Hill, Holborn, as he was going into a house—I saw him drop something from his sleeve into his hand, and then he put it into his trousers pocket—after apprehending him, I took from his trousers pocket a knife—I was in company with Miller—he slipped out of our hands, and fought desperately, and we had to use great violence to take him into custody—I had seen him walking about with the witness Watkins, first at Clerkenwell Green, and then in several streets.

WILLIAM WATKINS (re-examined). I was walking in the neighbourhood of Saffron Hill on this day—I went down to Collins's house in Back Hill—he pointed out Miller to me—he had a knife up his sleeve when he was walking with me, and he said, "This will silence anybody that comes to take me"—he put the knife into his pocket every time we went into a public-house—it was open.

Collins's Defence. The evidence that Watkins has given is mostly untrue.

Spriggs' Defence. I never presented a cheque in my life at any bank. I saw Collins, and asked if he had got any work; he said, "No." I said, "Worse luck." He said the rent was the greatest trouble. He said he had got some money coming in from a Jew's, and should pay up his debts with Mrs. Pearman, and go to Northallerton to finish his trade—he was a shoemaker. On Monday, 30th March, I was going out, and the governor said to me, "You had better not go out, you will have to go to the Mansion House." I went up to Guildhall, and was committed for trial on this charge. I never presented a cheque in my life.

COURT to EDWARD TARVER. Q. Have you ever seen a man who goes by the name of Matthews? A. Never—(Larkman was brought up)—I have never seen that man before—he might have been at the dock, at Guildhall, but I don't remember him.

COLLINS— GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude .

SPRIGGS— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-366

366. HENRY SPRIGGS was again indicted with RICHARD SAMUEL MATTHEWS alias ROBERT LARKMAN (24) , for forging and uttering an order for the payment of 160l., with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. SLEIGH and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY ROGERS . I am a cashier at the London and Westminster Bank—on 16th of March, a little before 4, I was at the bank, in Lothbury—Matthews came in and presented this cheque over the counter (produced) purporting to be signed by Charles Harvey for 160l., and dated 14th March, 1868, on one of our forms—we have a customer of that name—I said to Matthews, "What shall I give you for it?" the usual question—he said, "160l."—I said, "I know the cheque is for 160l., in what form will you have it, notes or gold?"—he said he was not particular, he did not care as long as he got the money—I pressed him to give an answer as to what he would have—he then said he would take two 10l. notes, one 5l., and the rest gold—I said, "135l. in gold?"—he said, "Yes"—I entered the cheque in my pay book, and went away to get the notes—I showed the cheque to some of my fellow cashiers, who examined it and compared the signature—I then spoke to the manager, Mr. Higley—I went outside the counter, and asked the prisoner where he brought the cheque from—he said, "From Burgoyne & Co."—I said, "Who are they?"—he said, "Burgoyne's, in Coleman Street"—I said, "Do you mean Burgoyne, Burbridge, & Co., the wholesale druggists"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Oh, we know them very well"—I again referred to Mr. Higley, and returned to the prisoner and said, "I will go with you to Bargoyne's," and we went down the office together; when we got to the door he turned to me and said, "I do not come from Bargoyne & Co.'s, I come from Maw & Sons, of Aldersgate Street"—I said, "That alters the case; you must return with me, and state

that to the manager"—we went back to the manager's room, and I left him with Mr. Higley—Mr. Higley desired me to go to Maw & Sons, and see if his statement was correct—they are wholesale druggists—I went there and made inquiries on the subject, and after that returned to the bank—the prisoner had previously said that he had rcceivod it from Mr. scott, who was confidential clerk to Messrs. Maw & Sons, Aldersgate Street—they had no person of that name in their employment—when I told Mr. Higley that, the prisoner said, "I did not say Scott, I said Charles"—I then went and fetched Sergeant Spittle—I believe I saw this paper written by the prisoner in the manager's room—he was requested to write his name and address, in case we should have to communicate with him; and he wrote "R. S. Matthews, 24, Robert Street, Hoxton—I did not see Spriggs there—I only saw him at the Police Court.

Matthews. Q. When I presented the cheque at the bank, what were the words you used to me? A. "What shall I give you for it?" the usual cashier's words—when I was outside the counter, I asked you where you came from, and you said, "Burgoyne & Co."—I said, "It scorns strange for you to bring a cheque from them; it is strange that they should not pay it into their account—you afterwards said you came from Mr. Scott—I don't think I could have understood Scott for Charles.

CHARLES HARVEY . I am a member of the firm of Barron, Harvey & Co., wholesale druggists, 6, Giltspur Street—I keep a personal account at the London and Westminster Bank, at Lothbury—this cheque for 160l. is not written by me, or by my authority; I know nothing of it—it is on one of my forms—I found, after the cheque had been presented, that a blank cheque had been taken out of my book—Matthews' brother was a porter in my employment—his name was Larkman—he used to clean out the counting-house—I do not know the prisoner Matthews at all—his brother is not in my service now; he was till this transaction occurred.

COURT. Q. Had you seen the cheque safe before you missed it? A. No.

JOHN SPITTLE (Detective Sergeant). About 4 o'clock on Monday, 16th March, I was sent for to the London and Westminster Bank—the manager made a communication to me, handed me the cheque for 160l., and I was introduced to the prisoner Matthews—he was in the manager's room—I said to him, "I am informed that you have brought a cheque to the bank, fur 160l., which is believed to be a forgery; lama police-officer; consider what you say, for it may be used against you for the purposes of justice"—he replied, "About 3.30 this afternoon, I met a man in Aldersgate Street, near Maw's; he asked me to oblige him by taking the cheque to the bank, and getting it cashed; I replied I did not care about doing it; he said, 'You will very much oblige me if you will;' I then consented to go"—at this time Sergeant Funnell came to the bank, and we took the prisoner, to Aldersgote Street, in a cab, the prisoner saying he should like to ride in a cab, that the man who gave him the cheque might not see him—he pointed out Maw's premises as the place where he met the man, and said, after giving him the cheque the man went up the gateway, and told him, when he returned, to go up the steps (the steps lead from a yard to the principal part of the premises at Maw's) and inquire for him—he stated that he knew the man by the name of Charles—I asked him if that was the Christian name, or surname of the man—he said he only knew him by that name—we then took the prisoner into Messrs. Maw's premises, and, with one of the persons employed there, went over them, telling the prisoner to

look about, to see if he could discover the man who gave him the cheque—he said he had not seen the man there—we then took him to Barron, Harvey & Co., 6, Giltspur Street, West Smithfield, Charles Harvey being the name on the cheque; and we took the prisoner all through their premises with Mr. Harvey, but he did not identify anyone as the man—we then took him to Moor Lane police-station, and charged him with uttering this cheque with intent to defraud—at the police-station he gave the name of Richard Samuel Matthews, and the address, 24 or 27, Robert Street, Hoxton, but he did not know which—he said, "I shall not be known in the name of Matthews, but that of Larking; when you go, inquire for Mrs. Spriggs, she will tell you about me"—I searched the prisoner, and found on him a leather bag, which he said he had received from the man to put the money into—there was 6d. in the bag—I saw a similar bag to this in the hands of Sergeant Funnell, and I heard the prisoner say that he had received that bag to put the money in.

Matthews. What he has said is quite correct.

Spriggs. Q. You never saw me with him, did you? A. No.

EDWARD FUNNELL (City Detective Sergeant). I was with Spittle on the afternoon of Monday the 16th—he gave me a leather bag at the Bank—I asked Matthews at the station house what he would have done with the money if he had got it, and he said, "If I had not seen the man, I should have taken it to the address that he gave me; "—I said "Who gave you that address?"—he said, "The man took a wet pen from his ear, and tore a piece of paper from his pocket-book, and wrote this address," I could not read it, and asked what the address was—he said it was Cornwallis Road or Street, and that he intended the word underneath for London—I do not know any such street in London as Cornwallis Street—I have made inquiries, and I cannot find any such street—Sergeant Spittle found some papers at the prisoner's house about Cornwallis Street, Liverpool—we have had communications with the police authorities at Liverpool.

SUSANNA EVANS . I did live at 27, Robert Street, Hoxton—I know both the prisoners—Spriggs lodged at my house—Matthews was in the habit of calling on him—he is Spriggs' brother-in-law—I only knew Matthews as Bob, I did not know his other name—on Monday, 16th March, he was at my house with Spriggs, between two and four—I can't say nearer than that, it might be nearer three, but I did not notice—I did not see them after that.

Spriggs. Q. I lived in your house a long time? A. Yes; twelve months last January—I know nothing against your character, I always took you to be a hard working man.

COURT to JOHN SPITLE. Q. Did you find anything in the prisoner's papers about Cornwallis Street? A. No; but at 27, Robert Street, I found a Liverpool newspaper—I know Liverpool very well; I believe there is a street called Cornwallis Street there.

WILLIAM MILLER (Policeman 148 G). On Monday 16th March, about 3.30 in the afternoon, I was passing along Finsbury Pavement, with Brennan—near South Street, I saw both the prisoners going towards Lothbury—I saw them go over to the London and Westminster Bank—they went straight to the bank together—Spriggs crossed over the road to the corner of Lothbury—Larkman went into the bank, and he waited outside by the letter-post, on the opposite side of the way—I saw some man come out of the bank, and followed him, and I found I was following the

wrong person—I went back to the bank and saw Spriggs outside then—about twenty minutes to five I saw him walk away, and I followed him to the King's Arms, in Windmill Street, and then to 27, Robert Street, Hoxton—I saw him go into the house and left him—I was in plain clothes—I have known Matthews about ten years by the name of Robert Larkman—that is his proper name—they came in a direct line from Robert Street, Hoxton, to the London and Westminster Bank—I saw them close by Finsbury Square—they could not have come that way from Aldersgate Street.

Matthews. Q. How long have you known me? A. Nine or ten years—I have not known anything wrong of you before.

HENRY BRENNAN (Policeman G 04). I was with Miller on Monday, the 16th March, about half-past three—I saw the prisoners on Finsbury Pavement, near South Street, and followed them to Lothbury, and saw them stop at the corner about three minutes; they then separated: Matthews went into the Bank, and Spriggs waited on the opposite side of the wayMiller followed a person, and I was watching Spriggs—he continued walking up and down for about an hour, and then went to the King's Arms, Windmill Street, and then to 27, Robert Street, Hoxton.

THOMAS BOWERS (City Policeman 620). I have known Spriggs for four years—I saw him outside the London and Westminster Bank on this afternoon—I said to him, "What brings you here?"—he sad, "I am waiting for my mate with a horse and cart; whilst I went to get my dinner I left him outside"—he did not say where—that was about twenty-five minutes to four—I then went round my beat, and got back in half an hour, and he was there still—I said, "Has he not come back yet?"—he said, "No"—I went on my beat again, and left him there—I said, "Then I should go away without him," and then he said, "I wish to wait"—I asked him if he was working for the same party, and he said, "Yes, the same as I used to"—I was in uniform, on duty.

Spriggs. Q. Have you ever known anything wrong of me. A. No.

HENRY CURTISS . I am a clerk to Barron, Harvey, and Co.—Matthews' brother was in their service until after the discovery of the forgery—I have seen Matthews there once—his brother's name was Edward Larkman—when he came it was to apply for employment—I can't say whether he gave any name then.

Matthews. Q. When was it that I applied for employment? A. The latter end of last summer—you were told to apply there by a man named Jem Hude—I have seen you there before—when you worked at Old 'Change you used to bring hampers there.

FREDERRICK BURBIDGE . I am a partner in the firm of Burgoyne, Burbridge, and Co., druggists—I know nothing of this chedue for 160l., which purports to be drawn in my favour.

MARTHA PEARMAN . I know the prisoner Matthews by the name of Larkman—he has always gone by that name—he is the person I referred to who brought me the 2l.

Matthew' Statement before the Magistrate:—"If I had known the cheque had been forged I should not have taken it. Had I not been drunk the same day I should not have taken it at all."

Spriggs' Statement:—"My brother-in-law and his wife came up on the Saturday night, and wanted furnished apartments. It was too late for them to get any, and I told them to stay with me, and they did. On Monday,

after dinner, my brother-in-law said, "I have to go into the City, will you go with me? We walked from our house to the King's Arms, in Windmill Street. I said, "I shall stop here for a little while. "He said, "I shall take a walk down to the Castle and Falcon," and he left me there. He returned in about an hour. I was still there. My brother-in-law said, "I have got a job in Lothbury. "I said, "I do not mind taking a walk with you there, as I have got to go to the Bank. "When I got to the corner I parted with him, and said I should go and get a job. While I was gone one of the men came up, and said he should not want me that day, and then I returned to the King's Arms, in Windmill Street. That is all I know about it."

Matthews' Defence. I am not the utterer of the cheque. It was sent by a man from Aldersgate Street, named Charles. I have not had the slightest opportunity of bringing him to justice. I declare that I am innocent.

Spriggs' Defence. I know nothing at all about it.

COURT to JOHN SPITTLE. Q. When was Spriggs taken into custody. A. On Wednesday, 18th March, at the public-house in Windmill Street.

MATTHEWS received a good character. GUILTY . of uttering. Seven Years' Penal Servitude . SPRIGGS— NOT GUILTY .

FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, 1868.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18680406-367

367. JOHN PENNICAUD (57), JAMES FENNELL (32), and JOHN TOW (61) Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences, certain indiarubber and other goods, with intent to defraud. Other counts For conspiracy. PENNICAUD PLEADED GUILTY .

MESSRS. METCALFE and LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and

MR. CUNNINGHAM defended Fennell and Tow.

RICHARD WARDROBE . I am a clerk in the Indiarubber, Gutta Percha, and Telegraph Works Company—I produce a Certificate of Incorporation—they carry on their business at 100, Cannon Street—they also have works at Silvester, in Essex—the officer has the letter of the 4th November, after receiving which I went to 21a, Hyde Park Place, and saw the prisoner Tow, and spoke to him with reference to certain goods which had been delivered to them—I asked him to settle for them—I also asked what had become of the goods, as I saw no signs of them being there; and he said they had used them up—I know of some indiarubber sheets being sent to Hyde Park Place, No. 21a—the first delivery was on the 15th November, the second on the 4th December, and the last on December 9th—there was some indiarubber sheet and packing—the value altogether would be 88l. 12s. 2d.—I am not certain as to the day I called, but it would be about the 1st December, at all events before the 4th, before the last delivery of goods—Tow said he represented the firm—he said Fennell was in the City, or in the country, I am not sure which—I think it was the City this time, but he told me different stories at different times—he said the firm was doing a large business in Belgravia—they were fitting up houses there—I believed this account at the time, and we supplied them with further goods afterwards—when I asked him what had become of the sheet rubber, he said it was used up in some billiard rooms for flooring—that was on the 10th

December perhaps—I applied many times after for payment—I applied at Bayswater Road—that is Hyde Park Place—I did not receive any money—I always saw Tow—I was a special constable—I took Tow into custody in Hyde Park Place—it was the same day he was examined at the Mansion House—I was not alone—we came away quietly, and did not accuse him till we got to the station, when we accused him of obtaining goods under false pretences—he said he was a clerk to Fennell & Co.—I afterwards (with others) went over the house, 21a, Hyde Park Place, and found it was empty—there were eight rooms—there was a desk and a book in one room, and a few papers—that was the room I always saw Tow in—before the goods were sent, those two letters were received—likewise the third.

Cross-examined. Q. What did the book contain. A. Printed orders—the officer has the book—I brought them away and gave them up at Bow Lane station—I sometimes correspond on the part of our firm—I wrote a letter to Fennell & Co.—I have seen it since—the letter book will be here—it was to the effect that if they would pay half the cash we would take a bill for the other half; we would not take a bill if we knew they had no money—the meeting with Tow was not on the 4th November but the 1st December—I did not suspect from that conversation that the firm was perfectly worthless—I am not aware as a fact that Fennell had deposited in a bank, although I had heard so—there was not more than a fair profit on the goods sold—thirty-five per cent, discount is allowed to the trade for cash, but only two and a half for cash to retail customers—for some goods we allow fifty per cent, to the trade.

MR. LEWIS. Q. You are where the article is manufactured? A. Yes—large discount is made to a wholesale-house.

JOSEPH CLISSOLD . I live at 20, Hyde Park Place, and am a licensed victualler—the house 21a belonged to me—in July last Fennell took the house of me at the rent of 8l. a year—the house was in a dilapidated state, and he agreed to lay out 50l. upon it, as he was a builder and contractor—he gave me this card, "Fennell & Co., builders and contractors, 21a, Hyde Park Place, land and estate agents"—he did not take possession till October—Fennell was in company with several others—I saw the three prisoners and others besides—I saw goods brought there and goods removed—the house was not furnished—I did not see business carried on there—there was a writing-desk in the house, but that was mine—there was also an old chair without a back—the goods were sent away shortly after they came—I did not see the goods exhibited—the goods sent away appeared to be the same—I could only tell by appearance—I applied to Fennell for rent—he told me he would see me d——before he paid me a penny—I never saw any business except taking things in and out—there were some bills posted in the windows with the name scratched out and Fennell's put in—I was there when Tow was taken in custody, and went over the house afterwards.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you let your house without having any reference? A. I did without a satisfactory reference—I never saw the packages open—I would not swear they were the same goods that were taken away—I don't know if they had been altered in the meantime—the agreement was drawn up with Fennell and another man of the name of Webb; Webb witnessed it—I have seen several persons there at different times—Tow told me he was Fennell's clerk—I told the Magistrate Fennell's answer about the rent.

MARY ANN BARBER . I live at 30, Upper Gloucester Street, Dorset Square—I know Fennell—he occupied an office of mine—he left in July,

1867—he was ejected; he owed me 15l. rent—he called himself a wine merchant—there was no name up till he had been there some time, then it was "Fennell & Co., Merchants"—there was no furniture in the house, except empty bottles—I cannot say if there was any business.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure it was not "Wine Agent?" A. He described himself as a wine merchant, not as agent—I never saw that card, that I remember—I said, before the Magistrate, I saw a card, but I don't know whether it was merchant, or agent—he gave me a satisfactory reference—I went to the house occasionally, to deliver messages which had been left at my house in his absence.

SAMUEL KING . I am a warehouseman in the service of the Indiarubber Company—on 3rd December, Pennicaud brought an order—we sent the goods to 21a, Hyde Park Place—I afterwards went to Layland's, in Botolph Lane, in the City—I saw the whole of the goods there the day before we went before the Magistrate, on 13th February.

JOSEPH BOLTON PORTER . I am a warehouseman for the same company—I delivered goods at 21a, Hyde Park Place, on 9th November, and also again on 31st December.

THOMAS NORKETT . I am a carman in the service of the company—on 15th November last, I delivered some indiarubber goods at 21a, Hyde Park Place—also on 4th December—1 got a receipt for their delivery each time—I saw Tow always—he signed, "For James Fennell & Coy."

JAMES VINCENT . I am foreman to Mr. Richardson, of Bayswater—Tow came into my master's shop on 23rd November last—Pennicaud came in two or three hours after—Tow wanted to know if we would have some indiarubber bauds, and if we would advance money on them—we told him we could not take them of him, as we did not think they belonged to him—he said they belonged to his master; and he afterwards brought Pennicaud—we advanced 7l. on the goods—they were afterwards redeemed by Tow.

Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure it was not by Peunicaud? Q. Quite sure—a declaration was made before a Magistrate that the duplicate had been lost by Pennicaud—the goods were redeemed by Tow after the affidavit was'signed—to the best of my recollection they wanted 14l. or 15l. upon them—we lent on them as much as they were worth—we have no usual rate—there was nothing in the bargain to lead me to suppose they wanted to get rid of them quickly.

MR. METCALFE. Q. The declaration stated the goods were pledged in the name of Pennicaud? A. Yes—Tow came first—we refused to take the declaration from Tow, and Pennicaud came himself—Tow then came again, and redeemed the goods—then someone else brought the ticket.

THOMAS LEXANDER LAYLAND . I am a merchant and warehouseman, carrying on usiness in Botolph Lane, Eastcheap—I have known Fennell and Tow about eighteen months—I knew him first as a commission agent—he was at Star Street, Paddington, at first—he sold me some locks—shortly before Christmas, 1867, he came and told me he had a parcel of indiarubber goods to sell—I asked him to bring a sample; the day after he did, and he sold me the quantity—I offered him 35l. for them—I ultimately bought them—I could not dispose of them, the quality was so bad—Fennell introduced Pennicaud as the owner of the goods—Pennicaud did not say anything about it in Fennell's presence—there were two lots—the

other I gave 15l. for, making 50l. in all—that was on the 1st and 2nd January last—they were carrying on business then at 60, Charrington Street.

Cross-examined. Q. Fennell sold you the goods as a commission agent? A. I understood him so—I paid him 50l.—the quality was very bad—the most I have had offered for them is 30l.

WILLIAM PENNY . I am a clerk in the London Bank, Limited, James Street, Covent Garden—I know the prisoners by sight—they opened an account at the Bank last January—I think it was the 6th—Fennell and Pennicaud came—Fennell described himself as a builder and contractor—the amount was 27l.—there is a small balance due to them—we only gave a few cheques.

Cross-examined. Q. You say Fennell opened the account? A. Yes—Pennicaud introduced him—they were both strangers—Tow-came once in the name of Fennell & Co.—there is I think about 3l. not drawn out.

John Pennicaud (the prisoner). I am charged in this indictment—I have known Fennell about nine months and Tow about five or six—I did not know of the office at Hyde Park Place, till about three weeks after it was taken, when I met them in the city—I know Tow's handwriting—those letters are in Tow's handwriting, to the best of my knowledge.

Cross-examined. Q. From what you have seen of Tow's handwriting, you believe that to be it? A. Yes—I have soon him about twenty times—at Hyde Park Place sometimes—I did not see him write those letters—I did not dictate the letters—I saw him writing while I was at business in the office—I was talking—I never inspected his handwriting—I did not read the letters he wrote—I pledged the goods myself in my own name and proper address—I never borrowed money on the ticket—it was said to be lost; but unfortunately it turned out not to be lost—it was said I lost it—I don't know what became of it—I gave it to Fennell—Tow worked as a clerk to Fennell—I was not aware there was a firm—I had not the pleasure, at all events, of knowing it.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Did Tow write letters?—A. Yes—I suppose he ordered goods, but I don't know much of the particulars of the office—I saw them after they were redeemed at Layland's—the goods were removed from the pawnbroker's to a warehouse, and thence to Layland's—as to the ticket king lost, Fennell came to my house and accused me of losing it—he said he had a customer for the goods and wanted the ticket—I looked for it but thought I could not have had it—it could not be found—then he said, "You must go and make a declaration"—I did not know of money being raised on the ticket. (The letters containing the orders for the goods were read. They fere dated the 4th, 8th, and llth of November. A memorandum of the 3rd of December was read, as follows: "Gentlemen,—The bearer will look out what I require, as follows. Please send them to-morrow, if possible. "A list of indiarubber goods was attached to this memorandum.)

EDWARD FENNEL . I took Pennicaud and Fennell into custody—Pennicaud on the 13th, and Fennell on the 20th—he asked me, on the way to the station, for his cheque-book, which I refused to give him—there did lot appear to be any business carried on at the house at Hyde Park Place—he was at 4, Windsor Terrace, Kensal Green—Tow gave mo as his address, "11, Tyndal's Buildings, Gray's Inn Lane"—it is a lodging-house.

FENNELL— GUILTY.of conspiracy .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .

TOW— GUILTY. of obtaining the goods under false pretences .— Nine Month Imprisonment .

PENNICAUD (who received a good character)—Two Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-368

368. DAVID BARCLAY (30) , Unlawfully obtaining an order for the payment of money, by false pretences.

MR. GRIFFITHS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-369

369. JAMES TYLER (54) , Stealing two yards of velvet and other goods of Edmund Collingwood Bousfield, his master; and JANE ROBERTS (45) , Feloniously receiving the same. TYLER — PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; MR. SERJEANT PARRY defended

Roberts.

JAMES BRETT (City Detective). I received instructions from the Prosecutors to watch their premises, and commenced to watch on the 22nd or 23rd of February, and continued on duty till the 5th of March—on 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th of March I traced the prisoner from the prosecutor's premises, in Cannon Street, by railway, to Roberts' shop, at 13, Bear Street, Leicester Square, on each occasion he went right through the shop into the back parlour—he left the warehouse at six, and got to the shop at twenty minutes past—it is a trimming shop—on the 5th March I followed him in—Roberts was there—I told him I was an officer, and had reason to suppose he had stolen property in his possession—he said, "I have nothing about me"—I said, "I must search you"—I found a pound packet of thread, and asked him where he got it from—he said he bought it at Edmund's, Gutter Lane—(the police constable, Frederick Brett was with me)—I unbuttoned his waistcoat and found underneath his braces some cloth—thinking I might have to go further in my search, I requested Mrs. Roberts to go into the front shop, leaving him in the custody of Frederick Brett in the parlour—I went into the shop and said to Mrs. Roberts, "I am a police officer, this man has been robbing his employers, and bringing the property to you; and it will depend on the property you produce to me, and as to the satisfaction you give for your possession of it, whether I lock you up as a receiver, or treat you as a witness"—she said, "I bought nothing of him; I know him as a dealer"—I then said, "Well, once for all, I shall give you another opportunity, and if I search and find property belonging to his employer, I shall then treat you as a receiver"—she then produced two pieces of cloth, and said, "I bought these of him"—I asked what else—she said, "I do not recollect anything else"—I said, "You have bought silk, twist, velvet, and thread of him "—I then commenced to search the shop, and found seven pieces of cloth, from two to three yards in length, five pieces of velvet, one piece of velveteen, four reels of twist, three pound packets of thread, four pounds of sewing silk, all of which she admitted she had bought of Tyler—I also asked her the prices she gave, and the time she bought them—the two yards of velvet she said she bought on Monday, and gave 1l. for them; two and five-eighths yards of cloth on 3rd March, for 14s.—the sewing silk was at the rate of 15s. a pound, and 2s. a reel for twist—I then asked if she had any invoices showing that she had bought goods, and she produced her file—I was then about to remove the property, when Tyler was brought in, who said, "What is all this?"—Robers

said, "This is what I bought of you, Tyler"—he made no reply—I then directed Mrs. Roberts to attend at the Mansion House on the following day, 6th March, at twelve o'clock, and Tyler was taken into custody—on the following day he was brought up at the Mansion House—she appeared in Court, and was ordered into custody before the case had gone far on—she was remanded, and I arranged to meet her at her shop, to make further search—I went accordingly with Mr. Hart, a witness in the employ of Mr. Bousneld—Mr. Hart then identified thirty-three balls of buttons and ten reels of twist, which were taken from the shop—Mrs. Roberts said she had bought these of a man two years ago, who had gone to America—I asked her if she had invoices for these goods—she produced one of Mr. Edmunds' invoices only.

Cross-examined. Q. What is the value of the whole of the things you took on the first occasion? A. They were valued by Mr. Hart at about 20l.—the value altogether would be about 25l.—the goods were on the shelves for sale—the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th March were the only occasions the prisoner was watched by me—I was employed by Mr. Bousfield to watch about twelve days, up to the 5th March—the prisoner gave me the prices exact, except in about one or two instances—I did say to the woman, "It will depend upon the property you produce to me, and as to the satisfaction you can give to me, whether I lock you up as a receiver, or treat you as a witness"—I had no authority to say that—she said positively she had purchased the goods of Mr. Edmunds, and it was not to refresh her memory as to that that she referred to her invoices—I asked her if she had invoices, and she went to the file and selected those out.

FREDERICK BRETT . I was also instructed to watch, and did so about eight days, beginning about the 25th February—I saw the male prisoner first on the 5th March—I had seen the woman previously in the shop—I did not hear what Roberts said; I was taking care of Tyler.

James Tyler (the Prisoner). I was a warehouseman, in the service of Messrs. Bousfield—I have known Jane Roberts a great many years; I cannot say exactly how long—I have told her in whose service I was—I took things there to sell—I cannot remember the earliest time, but it is more than twelve months ago from the present time—I have been trying to think, but can't bring to my recollection, who first proposed these dealings—I stole the things from Mr. Bousfield, and took them to the prisoner's shop to sell—I can't remember what I took first, but I think it was a length of cloth—I have sometimes gone not above once in a month; sometimes more frequently—I have taken buttons, thread, sewing silk, and occasionally a few reels of twist; but I did not take as much as I saw at the Mansion House—I think I took some coating the night before the 5th—I tied things round my body, and unbound them in the parlour—Mrs. Roberts was there sometimes—I always went in the parlour to deal—if Mrs. Roberts was out the son or daughter would attend to it—there were no receipts given in the transaction—the prices averaged about half—I received 8s. a yard for velvet, 12s. a pound for sewing silk: not 15s. I am sure—on 2nd March I received 16s. for velvet, not 1l.—I received 12s. a pound for twist, or 1s. 6d. for a two ounce reel; for the better, 2s. a reel—I never told Mrs. Roberts I was a dealer—she was aware where the goods came from—I am not aware that she ever asked—I never told her in plain words—I never looked to see if the things had private marks on them—I did not destroy

them—the highest I ever received at a time was 24s. once—she has said to me, "If you have so and so, I am open for it," or words to that effect.

Cross-examined. Q. Your memory seems rather bad, don't you recollect what you got the 24s. for? A. No, I will swear it—I have been engaged in thieving over twelve months—I cannot recollect how long; I should not like to say—I did not make a memorandum of the time—I do not think it is over two years—I should not like to take my oath of it—I cut off the cloth, but not to give them the appearance of remnants—I cut them off in the daytime—there was no one on the same floor—I am fifty-four years of age—up to two years ago, I suppose, I lived as honest a life as most people—I received 35s. a week in wages—I have a wife and family—I only visited Mrs. Roberts in matters of business—I used to have to make up the tailors' pattern-cards at home as perquisites—Mrs. Roberts used to keep a marine store shop, in Cecil Court, St. Martin's Lane—I dealt with her there—she had not more placed confidence in me than any other person—I mean by perquisites the tailors' cuttings, which I was allowed—Mrs. Roberts bought these—I never took a meal with the prisoner, nor she with me.

ELIZABETH VICTOR . I am the wife of Mr. Victor, and live at 3, Coleman Street, New North Road—I am the daughter of the prisoner Tyler—I know Mrs. Roberts, and have done so, to the best of my recollection, about seventeen years—I knew the marine store shop she used to keep in Cecil Court—my father used to go there to do business—I have been twice to Bear Street.

Cross-examined. Q. How long did you know Mrs. Roberts in Cecil Court? A. I cannot tell you—she carried on business the whole of the time I knew her—she has been a widow about eleven or twelve years—I don't know her son—I used to go to school with the daughter—she is a cripple, and does not get her own living—I was taken to Cecil Court once by father and once by my mother—I don't know what for—I believed my father to be an honourable man—I never took anything from my father to sell at Bear Street or Cecil Court.

JOHN HART . I am a warehouseman in the service of Mr. Bousfield—Tyler was also in their employ—he had access to all the stock—he was at times by himself—the selling price of twist is about 4s. 6d. for the two ounce reels, sewing silk 33s. a lb., silk velvet 14s. to 15s. a yard, the blue diagonal coating about 7s., 8s., or even 10s. and 11s. a yard, fancy Melton about 7s. 6d. a yard, beaver about 11s.—the prices given by the officer Brett do not ran to cost price of the goods—the private marks I see are partly obliterated—some of the marks were made by myself—I have compared the cloth with the bulk, and they correspond.

Cross-examined. Q. As regards the buttons, can they be bought elsewhere? A. Anywhere—the thread too, I dare say—there was a person employed on the same floor as the prisoner only occasionally—some of the articles were in his floor and some below—there has been au increase of about 1s. in the lb. in the price of silks in the last twelve months—I am sure it is not more—it was as low as 23s. some seven or eight years back, never lower that I remember—we do sometimes make a reduction on unsaleable goods—I have heard job lots arc sold to pawnbrokers sometimes at a low price—we sell job lots cheaper—I never attended a pawnbrokers' sale—I never knew a person have perquisites from our house—the goods he spoke of were not ours, but belonged to other houses which he made up in his own time—I have heard him say he had things from other houses and made them up—the

piece of blue coating is from 8s. to 11s.—the fancy is not worth more than 7s.—fancy Melton about 7s. 6d.—so that some of the prices Mrs. Roberts gave were not so very much under.

MR. METCALFE. Q. You were asked about perquisites, was the prisoner allowed any at all? A. Certainly not; nor remnants—silk of that description could not be got at 15s. per lb.

JOHN PELLATT . I am the manager of the trimming department of the prosecutors—I identify twenty-four out of the thirty two boxes of buttons—I have been manager about twelve months, and in the establishment three years—The prices of buttons vary—those would be about 3s. 6d. a gross.

Cross-examined. Q. Are these boxes of buttons in first-rate condition? A. No; the one there is first-rate.

WILLIAM MILLS EDMUNDS . I am a Manchester trimming warehouseman—I did not sell that twist to Mrs. Roberts—they do not bear our marks at all.

Cross-examined. Q. What have you sold to her, do you know? A. General things connected with trimming—I may have sold her twist—I have known her about two years—my travellers visited her—I cannot say exactly what things she bought—they were never to a large amount—I have seen her shop, but was never inside it.

MR. METCALFE. Q. Look at those invoices, are they yours? A. Yes, there is one of mine—those are two-ounce reels on the table.

EDMUND COLLINGWOOD BOUSFIELD . I am the proprietor of this establishment—I missed goods, and directed the police to watch.

Cross-examined. Q. I believe of your own knowledge you would not have sworn to these goods? A. To the cloths I would—some things I could identify, but not others—there are no perquisites in my establishment—I employ about sixteen people—none of these were ever allowed to buy or sell on their own account.

Twelve witnesses were called who gave Jane Roberts an excellent character, some having known her upwards of thirty years.

ROBERTS— NOT GUILTY

TYLER—GUILTY>.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 9th, 1868.

Before Mr. Baron Pigott.

Reference Number: t18680406-370

370. THOMAS O'HEARN (21), Feloniously shooting at John Harvey Hill, with intent to murder him.

MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY, conducted the Prosecution; and

MR. BESLEY the Defence.

JOHN HARVEY HILL . I was formerly in the C Division, Metropolitan Police—I left it in August last—on the morning of 3rd March, between 2 and 2.15, I was going home through Finsbury Square, towards Chiswell Street—I crossed from Sun Street, past Messrs. Whitbread's brewery—I had been with a cousin to Hackney Wick; there was a benefit for the Clerkenwell outrage, for the sufferers by the explosion, to get some money for them—I had left my cousin in the Hackney Road—when I got against Whitbread's brewery, two young men ran past me on the left hand side—I deliberately turned round and watched them—they crossed over, and-went

up Whitecross Street—when I got to Whitecoross Street corner, the prisoner stood there, and he deliberately fired at mo with a revolver—he might then be about five yards from me—I had walked up to him, meeting him, and he was standing—I was walking on the pavement—he was not in the road, he was at the corner—I heard a hiss by my right ear when he fired, as if it was a bullet—he then deliberately fired a second time, and I put my head back against the shutters, as I was so agitated I did not know what I was doing—I heard a similar hiss on my left side, and the prisoner went across to me—I called out "Murder! police!" and he deliberately turned, and fired at me again—I had got my umbrella in my hand, and was following him—eight or nine yards behind him, my foot caught against a stone, and I fell, and by chance the shot went over me, and I was not hit—I called "Murder! police!"—Maley, a policeman, came up, and said, "What is it?"—I said, "Take that man, he has shot at me, "pointing to the prisoner—he said, "Are you sure he is the man?—I said "Yes, take him"—the prisoner had his hand behind him, with a revolver in it; I saw it distinetly against the lamp-post—Maley went on one side of him, and I on the other—a struggle ensued; he tried to get released from us—I said, "For God Almighty's sake hold him still;" but he got the revolver up, and went bang, bang, discharging the revolver twice, and pointing it towards where I was; and a piece of the cap went into my right eye—ho fired right at me, but I put my head back, and it did not hit me.

COURT. Q. Was it fired over anybody's shoulder, or was it fired up in the air, or was it fired as his arm was being thrown round, by other people catching hold of it? A. It was pointed at me, I believe, and the second one at Maley—if I had not put my head back, no doubt I should have been hit—the piece of gun cap worked itself out of my eye—it was large enough for me to see it, and I had a bad eye for a long time.

MR. BEASLEY. Did a sergeant come up, and was he taken into custody? A. Yes—he immediately threw the pistol away, and a person named Ewar picked it up—Sergeant Allingham came up and the prisoner was taken in custody—I had seen the prisoner before on several occasions, at a public-house in Little Pulteney Street, where I was doing special duty, and on several occasions in Whitecross Street, Saint Luke's, in the street, and also in a public-house at the top of Great Windmill Street, Haymarket, I cannot tell you the name of it, but Jeremiah Allen used to frequent it, and all of them.

COURT. Who are "all of them"? A. Allen, and Timothy Desmond, and O'Keefe, and all of them, I have seen those people going into that public-house—I mean the men who are in custody on the charge arising out of the Clerkenwell affair—I was set specially to watch that public-house by the police—I have never learned the sign of the public-house I watched so long—it is not as familiar to me as my own name—I was employed by the police to watch it soon after the Clerkenwell explosion, and watched it six weeks or two months.

MR. BEASLEY. Q. Did William Desmond lodge there? A. At 9, Cross Street, Regent Street, at the same time that I was employed to do this—he is one of the prisoners in custody for the Clerkenwell explosion—9, Cross-Street, is nearly a quarter of a mile from the public-house I have been watching—you have to go through Soho Square.

Cross-examined. Q. How old are you? A. 29—I joined the City of London Police on 18th October, 1860, and resigned on 19th November,

1863—there might have been complaints, but I resigned—I then went down home, as steward to my brother-in-law, near Pinchenfield, in Essex—I was employed as farm bailiff—my brother-in-law did not get rid of a farm bailiff and put me in his place—he maintained me from the time I left the police till March, 1864, when I went and joined the Essex constabulary—I did not like that, and resigned in four or five months—there was no complaint against me there—I then went and took a second attendant's place at St. Luke's Asylum—I lived in the house—I was there eleven months, and resigned because I had bad health—I then went and stayed a little while at my own brother's house—I have two friends in London, my brother and my cousin—I was earning nothing then—I joined the Metropolitan Police on 14th May, 1866, and resigned on 30th August, 1867—I was brought up to farming—I liked the Metropolitan Police very well, but there was a little dispute, I was robbed of 3l. 15s. out of my box and some suits of clothes, which caused ill feeling, and one of the constables put a wet towel in my place; I did not like it, and resigned—from August, 1867, up to the period of the Clerkenwell explosion, I was specially employed by police officers engaged in the cases—I was living in London—I was paid by them—that was not my only means of livelihood, because I had my own savings—my pay as a constable of the Metropolitan Force was 1l. 0s. 6d. a week, with a deduction out of that for superannuation allowance and the mess, which was 6s. 6d. or 7s. a week—I did not have gratuities—I was paid for work done—I can't say what it amounted to a week, for we were so engaged I cannot inform you—I kept no account—the largest sum I received was 1l.; but I have had 5s., and 15s., and 4s., and so on—I had no regular pay—I mean to say that I went to this public-house, Little Pulteney Street, on duty, before the Clerkenwell explosion, that was part of the labour for which I had those sums—the public-house in Little Pulteney Street is the same as that in Great Windmill Street—that is the house that Allen and Timothy Desmond and O'Keefe frequented—I cannot tell you any day when I saw the prisoner in that public-house, because I never took a note of it—I have sworn that I saw him in that public-house before the explosion—I hare seen him in the public-house which they frequented, but I never spoke to him—I cannot tell you what month I first saw him, or the last time I saw him, I did not take notice of it—I have never spoken to him—I have seen him in company with those persons in the public-house, but not when anybody has been present with me—I used to go by myself, and sometimes I had some of the other officers with me—my visits to the public-house in. Pulteney Street and Great Windmill Street extended from August down to December—I have not been there since December—I have been past Desmond's house, 9, Cross Street, Regent Street, since December, but not to watch it—I have not been employed to watch since December—there are a great many officers named Chamberlain who I know, but I do not know one in the Metropolitan Police Force; I know one in the City of London Force—I do not know Chowne—I can read—I read newspapers—I have not heard of money for rewards subscribed for Chowne and Chamberlain: do you mean in the E division? I have heard that a man did shoot at two constables of the E division; but I know nothing of them—I never spoke to them—I do not know of subscriptions of money to those men, only what I have heard say—I have been in frequent communication with the police for the last three months; and I mean the Jury to believe that I have never heard a word from anyone of a subscription for those men—I went

to the Police Court, and was examined the same morning, within a few hours of the transaction—I have sworn to-day that the prisoner was standing still when he fired the first shot—the solicitor asked me the question a few hours after the occurrence, and I said I could not tell whether he was standing still—but that was the second time, when he was brought up on remand, it was within a week of the transaction—I did not say, "I can't say whether he was standing still or walking on" (The Witness's depositions being read stated, "I cannot say whether he was standing still or walking on")—I should say when examined by the prisoner's attorney at the Police Court, that I could not say whether he was standing still or walking on when he fired—I cannot say now whether that is a mistake, when a person is moving you cannot tell, when he is in a deliberate manner going to deprive a man of his life—he was not walking—Mr. Ricketts asked me the question before the Magistrate, and I told him I could not tell whether he was walking or not; and I say it still, that I cannot tell—there were two shots fired after Maley came up—those were the fourth or fifth shots—I have said to-day that the fourth shot was aimed at me, and but for my putting my head on one side it would have struck me—I did say before the Magistrate I did not know whether the bullet went into the ground when he fired the fourth shot—Mr. Ricketts pressed me so that I dare say I did say so—I see no distinction between what I said before the Magistrate, and what I am saying now—the fourth shot was aimed at me—I say to-day that the fifth shot was fired at Maley—when those, shots were fired we both had hold of the prisoner, and a struggle was taking place—the fifth shot was not fired over my shoulder, it was in this way—I cannot tell you whether it was fired over my right shoulder, I was so excited.

COURT. Q. Are you able to say? A. I am not; before the Magistrate, I believe I said that it was fired over my right shoulder, and to the best of my belief it was, but I forget the distance at the present moment.

MR. BESLEY. Q. When the first shot was fired, did you say to the prisoner, "Did you fire at me? A. No; the only words I spoke were, "Murder! help! policeman!"—the first shot was not fired in the air—I was the only person present—I cannot tell whether the prisoner was drunk or not—since August, I have been living on my private money, and what I have received from the police—I told the police two or three weeks ago that the prisoner had been seen at the corner of Windmill Street and Pulteney Street—I told them since the committal and before—I told them before I was examined—when my depositions were read over to me, I did not say "That ought to be put in"—I do not remember the words—I believe I told it to Sutton before the committal—I believe he is here—he is not a witness in the case—I also believe I told Maley of it—I have seen Mr. Pollard, of the Treasury—perhaps my statement might be taken down in writing, perhaps not, I don't know—I have told him that I often saw the prisoner in communication with others, and in the public-house as well—I do not know whether my statement has been taken down in writing by persons connected with the Treasury within the last few days—I cannot say whether I have seen people connected with the Treasury within the last few days—I have told the solicitor for the Prosecution within the last few days that I have seen the prisoner in company with persons at Pulteney Street—I cannot say whether it was taken down—I was hot asked to read it, and I did not read it—I do not think I said one word before the Magistrate about the prisoner being seen at Pulteney Street—I cannot saw whether I mentioned the public-house

at the corner of Great Pulteney Street and Windmill Street before the Magistrate—I do not know whether I did or did not.

Q. Did not you hear an officer say that he had made inquiries, and this man was not connected with Fenianism? A. Mr. Ricketts put a question to Mullany on the second examination—not to Mullany, to Maley—he asked Maley whether he thought the prisoner was in any way connected with Fenianism—I did not at that time make any statement that I had ever seen him at the public-house with Desmond and the others frequently—I signed my depositions afterwards—Mullany is a man who belongs to the Fenian brotherhood, I believe—no doubt there is a man named Mullany connected with Fenianism.

MR. POLAND. Q. When you were first examined before the Magistrate, at the Clerkenwell Police Court, was there any solicitor or counsel for the Prosecution? A. No—the prisoner was not represented by Mr. Ricketts on the first occasion—on the second occasion, there was no solicitor or counsel for the Prosecution, but Mr. Ricketts appeared for the prisoner—I had given my evidence on the first occasion, and on the second I was crossexamined by Mr. Ricketts—the question was asked the first time of Maley about the prisoner being connected with Fenianism—I was never re-called, and asked any question after that—I said before the Magistrate that I had seen the man before, but I have never spoken to him—I was not asked any more questions about him—Mr. Cooke examined me—the time I saw the prisoner in the public-house was between the date of my resignation and the Clerkenwell outrage—I was very much excited at the time the shots were fired—it was not long before I could sign the charge sheet—I was two hours at the Police Station, or it might be a little longer.

PORTEUS MALEY (Policeman G 216). On the morning of 3rd March, about 2.15, I heard a report of fire arms, hastened in that direction, and saw the prisoner walking down the opposite side to me, and Hill following him, waving his umbrella and calling out, "Police! help! murder! this man has shot at me"—I ran over the road, and said, "Are you sure that is the man that fired at you?"—he said, "That is the man that shot at me"—I got hold of the prisoner by his collar, and tried to get hold of his wrist, seeing something in his hand—he said "I have done nothing"—I saw something bright, but could not see what it was—he commenced struggling very violently, and got a revolver in front of my face—I saw then that it was a revolver; he pointed it in the direction of my left shoulder—I had got hold of him by the thick part of the arm, and before I could succeed in getting his arm down, and getting a good grasp of it, he pushed my arm on one side, and the revolver went off at that moment—Hill was then five or six yards distant—he fired one shot at me before Hill could get hold of him—I heard the report, and saw the flash, which darkened my eyes for a moment or two, so that I could not see, and before I could recover myself properly the second shot was discharged—but I held his arm still in the same position, and at that time Hill got hold of him—he then struggled for a minute, or not quite so long, and threw this revolver down in front of me—it is a new one—I said to a man who stood there, "Pick up that revolver and give it to me"—he picked it up, and said, "All right, I will keep it safe for you"—Sergeant Allingham then came up, and asked for the revolver twice, and then the man gave it to him, and we conveyed the prisoner to the station—the sergeant and I were on each side, and Hill was behind—the prisoner looked at me and said, "I know you, you b——r; I do not

mind, doing ten years for you any time"—when he stood in the dock at the station, before the inspector, he said, "I can do ten years for this bit"—I do not know who he intended those words for—I cannot say that I ever saw him before; and I had never seen Hill, to my knowledge—I was in uniform, doing night duty, when I heard the report—the prisoner walked to the station—he was not perfectly sober; he had been drinking—he walked steadily enough, but when he spoke I could tell that he had been drinking.

Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in the force? A. Six years—I was examined on both occasions before the Magistrate—I said there that I addressed Hill, saying, "Are you sure that is the man?—when my deposition was read over I did not notice that those words were not there—I have not talked this matter over with Hill since—he was following up the prisoner when I said, "Are you sure that is the man?—I may have left out on the first examination the words, "I know you, you b——, I will suffer ten years for you any time"—I do not know—I believe I did, now—Sergeant Allingham had hold of the prisoner on the way to the station—I have not said before to-day that when in the dock the prisoner said, "I can do ten years for that bit"—the sergeant said it in his evidence, but the first time I ever said it on oath was to-day—Hill was five or six yards off when the fourth shot was fired; he had closed with the prisoner before the fifth shot was fired, and had hold of him—I had hold of his arm when the fourth shot was fired—he did not loose himself, but he had power over his arm, because I laid hold of it so high up—I was struggling for the revolver—the revolver did not accidentally fall on the ground; he threw it away—he did not let it drop; it went two or three yards in front of him—I did not say, "I kept his hands off, and he discharged another barrel at me; we struggled a second or so, and he tried to turn the revolver, and then he let it drop and it fell"—this is my signature to my deposition—it was read over to me before I signed it.

GEORGE EWAR . I am a boxmaker, of 5, Sun Square, Bishopsgate Street—on the morning of 3rd March, a little after two o'clock, I was in Whitecross Street—I saw a flash, and heard the report of a pistol just at the bottom of Whitecross Street—I watched a man coming along the middle of the road—there was no one else in the street at that end—a man with an umbrella cried, "Stop him!"—he was walking away—I said to my wife, "That is the man who has fired the pistol, I will watch him"—I gave her my bundle, and walked a few steps after the prisoner; that was before I heard the cry of "Stop him!"—I saw Maley come up and get hold of him, and I heard the cry after that—I was as close as I am to you when the policeman got hold of him—he then deliberately fired at Maley's head, and I heard the bullet or something go right by my ear against the gates—it was like a stone flying by my ear towards the wall towards the gate—it went apparently behind me—the prisoner then fired another shot—I saw the flash—I saw nothing in his hand, because his back was to my face; but I saw him reach over the policeman's shoulder—the policeman laid hold of his arm like this, but his arm was up—I picked up this revolver (produced) it was about three yards behind him—I saw it come from his hand after he had fired four shots—it was thrown away, not dropped—somebody said, "Pick up that, and give it to me"—I did not know but what it might be some of the prisoner's friends, so I kept it and said to myself, "If anybody comes up to me I will point it at them, whether there is anything in or not"—I ultimately gave it up—I had never seen Hill or Maley before.

Cross-examined. Q. How many shots did you hear altogether? A. Four—the first one was a minute or better before the next, and when the policeman got hold of him there was not five seconds between the two—I swear that the policeman was holding him by the arms at that time—I cannot say whether they were struggling for the possession of the revolver—Hill got up between him just before the last shot was fired; and there was another young man there, but I can't swear whether he had hold of him—he was not half a yard off—he is here—I went to the station, and was there when the prisoner was charged—I saw nothing of two men running away—when I first saw the prisoner there was no one else in the street—I was about half as far again as the length of this Court from him—he had been drinking, I can't say that he was drunk—he might have carried a little more I think.

ROBERT DICKENS . I live at 1, Milton Street, Cripplegate, and am a boxmaker—on the morning of the 3rd March I was coming down Whitecross Street—heard a report and saw a flash in Red Lion Market, that it at the corner of Whitecross Street—I heard one more shot fired besides that—the constable walked past me—I heard four shotsfired altogether—my friend Ewar picked up the pistol.

Cross-examined. Q. How near were you when the last two shots were fired? A. About the distance of from here to the wall—my friend was not with me—he was a little ahead of me—the constable had hold of the prisoner by the arm, and they appeared to be struggling—the gentleman who was shot at also had hold of him—I was further off than Ewar, but I got up to them—I went to the station—I walked close behind him with Ewar to the station, and was there wnen the charge was made.

MAXWELL ALLINGHAM (Police Sergeant O). On the morning of 3rd March, about 2.15, I was at the corner of Play House Yard, Whitecross Street—I heard the report of fire arms and saw a flash, went to the place and saw the prisoner and the constable struggling together in the road—there was a quantity of smoke and a smell of powder—Maley had hold of the prisoner, and Hill had hold of him behind by the collar—I received this revolver from Ewar—I took the prisoner to the station and searched him—I looked at the revolver, it had five chambers, and had been recently discharged—one of the nipples had an exploded percussion cap on it, which Inspector Bryant took off—Hill charged the prisoner with discharging three chambers at him, and Maley with discharging two at him—Inspector Bryant entered the charge on the sheet, and read it over to the prisoner, who said, "I can do ten years for this"—directly they put him in the cell went and looked at a gate-post belonging to Haywood and Taylor, right opposite where the shot was fired, and found the dent of a bullet there—the prisoner refused his address.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know now where he is working? A. Yes; he is a shoemaker, working for Mr. Cox, of 198, Whitecross Street, and living on the premises—I walked with them all the way to the station—I have not cut out the piece from the gate-post, it is solid oak; it is not punctured with the bullet, I only saw an indentation—I saw the post every night in the week—I had not seen the indentation the night before; it, seemed to me fresh done—I could not judge when it was done, I should not have noticed it then if this was not done—it has chipped off the paint all round, and there is an indentation in the post, and a lead mark as well—I tried to find the lead but could not—I believe I mentioned the lead mark

at the Police Court, I do not say that I did—Maley went with me to Inspector Bryant.

BENJAMIN BRYANT (Police Inspector G). I was at Old Street station when the prisoner was brought there in custody—I entered the charge, and read it over to him, telling him he was charged with feloniously shooting at John Harvey Hill and Portens Maley, with intent to kill and murder them, at Whitecross Street, St. Luke's—he said, "All right, I can do ten years for that bit"—he was a little in liquor I think, but it was hardly perceivable, he was able to walk and talk—he gave his name Thomas O'Hara—I asked him where he lived, he said that he declined to give his address, as he did not wish his friends to know anything about it—I went the same morning with Allingham, looked at the gate-post, and found a circular indentation, such as a bullet would make.

Cross-examined. Q. When was it the address was spoken of, some hours after he was in custody? A. When he first came in, and before the charge was made—I have made enquiries since, and know that he works with Mr. Cox.

Witness for the Defence:—

JHN COX . I believe I am an Irishman by birth—I live at 198, Whitecross Street, and am a shoemaker—I have been there six years, and my father kept the business before me—the prisoner came into my employ about three weeks or a month before Christmas—he continued in my employ, and lived there—he is a very sober and industrious young man; that is the general character he has borne.

Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. Q. Who lived with him? A. Another young man, named Joseph; I cannot exactly tell you his name—he lodged with me all the time—I took very little interest in him—he is outside—they occupied the same room—they did not both come there to lodge together; the other man came first, and then the prisoner came and occupied the same room—the other man has lodged with me nearly twelve months, but I dot know his name—I have heard it; I shall recollect it directly—it is Joseph Connor—I heard at 9.30 or 10 o'clock next morning that the prisoner was taken in custody—I do not know whether a box was taken out of his room that morning—I did not tell the constable so—Sutton the policeman came to the house that morning, and I showed him up stairs; it was then 10.30 or 11—the prisoner's box was not in the room then—I do not know when it went—I do not know that it was removed after these shots were fired—nobody told the oonstable that it had been removed—Connor did not tell the constable in my presence that it had been removed; nothing of the kind; he said that a friend of his had called, but that he knew nothing about the box—I asked the fellow workman whether he knew anything about it in the constable's presence—I do not know how the box got away, or whether it contained bullets and powder—I never saw it but once—I do not know what time the prisoner went out the previous night—I generally go to bed about 11 o'clock—neither he or Connor were in when I went to bed—I let him and the other man in at 11.30 or 12; but they can let themselves out—I believe he was out all day, but do not know what time he went out—the bed had been slept in, but not on both sides; Connor's side had been slept in—I do not know whether the prisoner went up stairs and went out again in a few minutes.

MR. BESLEY. Q. You do not know that Connor went out at all? A. I

do not believe he did—I saw the box, it may be two months ago; it was closed—I know nothing of Allen, Timothy Desmond, or O'Keefe—I never saw such persons calling for him.

GUILTY .— Penal Servitude for Life; and THE COURT directed a reward of 5l. each to Hill and Maley.

Before R. M. Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18680406-371

371. RICHARD YATES (50) , Feloniously carnally knowing and abusing Mary Ann Yates, she being under the age of ten years.

MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DALEY the Defence.

GUILTY. of the Attempt .— Two Years' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-372

372. THOMAS BOWYER** (34), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing one watch of John Hawkins from his person.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-373

373. THOMAS SWANN* (19), FREDERICK CHANDLER (18), and JAMES SHAW* (19) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of William Bryant, and stealing therein one lock, two keys, and one knife, his property.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-374

374. ALICE WHITE (23) , Feloniously cutting and wounding Elizabeth West, with intent to do her some grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. PATER and CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution.

ROSA ELIZABETH BIRMINGHAM . I live at 13, Bedfordbury, and am an unfortunate—on the morning of 25th February, between 7 and 8, the prisoner came to my room and brought some gin with her—Elizabeth West was present—we all had a glass of gin, and some beer as well—the prisoner was intoxicated—Elizabeth West and I were in bed when the prisoner came home, and she laid down in the same bed with us—West got up between 8 and 9 o'clock, and went out to get some breakfast, and returned at 12 with Ann Allen—they were both the worse for liquor, and West was the worst, she was carried up stairs—the prisoner said to me that she had been robbed of three sovereigns out of her mouth while she was asleep—I told her that they had not done it, and she took up a knife and began swearing a great deal—she said to West and Allen that if they did not return her the change, if they had the money, she would bleed them—West told her she had not got the money, and had not seen it—she stabbed Allen first on her forehead, and then she stabbed West; there was one wound and some slight wounds on the back of her head—she was confined five days, and attended by the doctor at Charing Cross Hospital.

ELIZABETH WEST . I am an unfortunate, and live at 13, Bedfordbury—on 25th February, about 7.30, the prisoner came into my room intoxicated—she brought in some gin and beer with her, and asked me to have a glass of gin—I said that I would have a glass of beer—she asked me if I would get up and come out with her—I refused—I went out with Allen to get some breakfast—we met a friend, and the three of us had some drink—I became intoxicated—I remember seeing the prisoner again, and remember her stabbing me, I do not know how often as I became Insensible—I was taken to the hospital—this (produced) is the knife, it was on the sideboard at breakfast.

THOMAS CHARLES THORNICROFT . I am house surgeon at Charing Cross

Hospital—on 25th February, West was brought there with a clean cut wound on the back of her head, on the left side—it bled profusely, but was not very dangerous—there was only one wound, and a slight scratch—I did not see nine wounds—the wound might be caused by this knife.

NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Saturday, April 11, 1868.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18680406-375

375. JOHN BARRETT (19), SAMUEL JACOBS (19) , Robbery with violence upon James Beckett, and stealing a watch, his property.

MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES BECKETT . I am a storekeeper, and live at 11, Gill Street, Lime-house—I am 73 years of age—on Sunday evening, 15th March, about 8.40, I was coming through Five Bell Alley, Limehouse—I had come from chapel at Stepney, and was going home—I had a watch in my waistcoat pocket, fastened to a chain round my neck—I had got half way through the alley, and saw a man standing up against the wall—I do not know who it was, the attack was so quick—when I had advanced a step, another took me round the neck, and nearly choked me, and then the other commenced robbing me—they took my watch and chain from me, and after he had let go my throat he threw me down very heavily on the stones, and there I lay senseless for a time—I do not know either of the prisoners—I had not seen them before—I afterwards saw my watch at the Thames Police Court—this is it (produced)—I have had it twenty-four years.

MICHAEL LEADER . I am 14 years old—I live at 24, St. Ann's Street, Lime-house—my father is a shoemaker—I work at Mr. Alford's, a coal merchant, at 5, Gill Street—on Sunday, 15th March, a little before 9, I was at the top of Five Bell Alley—I know the two prisoners—I know Barrett by the name of Long Coat, and Jacobs by the name of Nigger—I saw the prisoners in the alley—I heard screams of "Murder," and looking down the alley, I saw the two prisoners, Jacobs holding his hand over his mouth, and his arm round his neck—while Barrett was taking the watch, Jacobs said to him, "Have you got it 1"—Barrett said "No," and when he could not get the chain off his neck, he pulled the chain and broke it round his neck—Barrett then ran away a little way, and then Jacobs caught him by the legs of his trousers, and lifted him up and dashed him down on the back of his head—I then gave information—I am sure these are the two men.

Barrett. Q. What did you do when you saw this done. A. I went and helped the old man up, and gave him his walking stick—I did not give information to the police that night—I told my master of it next morning—he asked me if I knew the persons that did it, and I said "Yes," and he told someone, and then the policeman came to me—my master did not tell me if I did not give information he would give me the sack—I have known you a good bit by the name of Long Coat—a couple of years—I have often heard you called so—I can't mention by whom—there is another man called Long Coat—he wears a suit of black clothes and earrings—he does not resemble you in the least—I did not see him on the night of the robbery—I have known him longer than I have known you—I did not call you Barrett at the station—I did not know your name—I called you Long Coat.

JACOBS. Q. Did you state at the Police Court that I caught hold of the man by the legs and threw him down? A. Yes—you had on the same clothes you have now, and a white handkerchief round your neck.

WILLIAM SPELLMAN . I am a labourer, and live in Lower John Street, Limehouse Fields—on Sunday, 15th March, between 7 and 7.30, I saw Jacobs in company with others, in Salmon's Lane, Limehouse, that is about 150 yards from Five Bell Alley—I know both the prisoners well.

Jacobs. He is a convicted thief: he owes me a grudge. Witness. I was convicted once, about two years ago—I have had no quarrel with you; the spite I have against him is that he robbed my father of 15s.—I was with you when you were taken—I gave information on the Wednesday after the robbery, the 18th—you were taken some time afterwards—I don't know why I was not examined before the Magistrate.

Barrett. Q. Do you know a man of the name of Long Coat? A. I know one of that name—I have known him above two years—he was not with Jacobs on the night—I have heard you called Long Coat, but that is a long time ago; it was on account of your wearing a long coat—I have not heard you called so for this two years, because I have not been in your company—I have not been convicted since two years ago—I have only been in gaol once—I was in Chelmsford gaol—I came out for three months when you came out for your two months.

GEORGE TERRY . I am assistant to Mr. Hawes, a pawnbroker, in Whitechapel Road—this watch was pawned on 16th March, at our shop, for 14s., by an elderly female, about 11 o'clock in the morning.

CHARLES ABBOTT (Policeman K 322). On Tuesday night of 17th March I went with the witness Leader and Sergeant Coleman to No. 9, Flower and Dean Street, Spitalfields—Leader went in, and came out and said Long Coat was in there—I went in and found Barrett—I told him he was charged with being concerned with another, not in custody, in knocking a man down and robbing him of his watch, in Five Bell Alley, Limehouse, on Sunday evening—he said, "I am innocent, I can bring witnesses to prove that I was not way from the house"—I know Jacobs by the name of Nigger—I have seen him very often in the neighbourhood of a night—I have seen the two prisoner together repeatedly about the neighbourhood; but not on the night of the robbery.

Barrett. Q. Why did you stop outside when the other two sergeants come in? A. Because I knew that you knew me, and I thought if you saw me you would get away—I have seen you scores of times—I knew you by the name of Barrett—I never knew you by the name of Long Coat—I don't know a man called Long Coat—I know there are one or two called it; but I don't know one from the other—I don't know a man named Dalton—, it is two-and-a-half miles from your lodging to Five Bell Alley, I could walk it in little more than half-an-hour.

WILLIAM WEST (Policeman G 112). I apprehended Jacobs on Monday night, 30th March, in Shoreditch—I had been looking for him—I saw him come out of a Panorama—I caught hold of him and said, "I want you"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "You are to go to Poplar, charged with being concerned with another, in custody, in robbing an old gentleman there"—he said he knew he was wanted, but God blind him I should not take him—he struck me on the finger with something, I don't know what, but it has been getting worse ever since—after a struggle I got assistance,

and took him in a cab to Arbour Square Station—I was in plain clothes at the time.

Jacobs. Q. Did you find anything on me? A. No—I did not give evidence at the Police Court.

Barrett's Defence. I have got witnesses to prove that I was in bed all the Sunday; that I got up at 6 o'clock, and had my tea between 8 and 9, and never left the place till 12 o'clock; and that is two-and-a-half miles from where the robbery was committed. Next day I had to pawn my shirt to get a breakfast; I believe the policeman has the pawn ticket; and does it stand to reason if I had the watch or the proceeds on the 15th, I should pawn my shirt the very next day to get victuals? The lad has been prompted to say what he has. I have never been called Long Coat in all my life.

Jacobs' Defence. I have nothing to say.

CHARLES ABBOTT . Re-examined. I have a pawn ticket which I found in the room where Barrett was—a young woman showed me the room, and she said she slept there—the name on the ticket is "Mackay" or something like it.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ELIZABETH WHITE . I know Barrett, I live in the same house—9, Flower and Dean Street, Spitalfields—I have been in the habit of seeing him—he was taken into custody on the 17th March—I saw him on the 15th—he was in bed all day, till about 5 or 6 in the afternoon, when he got up between 8 and 9—he had his tea, and he sat in the back kitchen till after 12, when he went to bed—he never moved outside the place—we were all together in the kitchen—he sleeps up stairs, but the kitchen is common to all the lodgers—I was there all the evening, and he never left—I saw him pawn his shirt on Monday morning for 1s. 6d., because he had no money to get any breakfast—the policeman found the ticket in his room; Ann Sullivan gave it to him, not the girl he was sleeping with—I never knew him called Long Goat—I know a young chap that is called Long Coat, I have seen him two or three times in the same street, he is a short stout chap—I only knew the prisoner by the name of Jack Barrett—I have known him four or five weeks.

Cross-examined. Q. Have you lived in the house all that time? A. Yes—I deal in Petticoat Lane—I buy old clothes and sell them again—there were a good many persons in the kitchen on this Sunday—twenty, not more—I don't know at what time the other nineteen got up—I don't know that any of them went out—I could swear that they all staid in—I know more of Barrett, because I was sitting down by his side the best part of the night, and he was in the back kitchen—there are two kitchens—I staid in the whole day—I generally do on a Sunday—I got up about 10.30 in the morning—the first time I saw Barrett was between 5 and 6 o'clock, when he come down stairs from bed—I was examined before the Magistrate on the remand about eight days after he was taken—I am sure this Sunday was the 15th March—on the Sunday before that I was also in the kitchen—I don't know whether Barrett went out on that Sunday, he might—he generally slept till late on Sunday since I have been in the house—he always stays in all day Sunday, as far as I know—he does not always sit with me—we were not alone on this Sunday; there were two or three more there—there is another witness outside, the woman that takes the money—Mrs. Shea—she does not sit down all day, she has her work to do—she was in the back kitchen

some part of the time—I was in the back kitchen part of the time, and some time in the front kitchen—I was two or three hours in the back kitchen, from the time he had his tea till he went to bed—I did not go into the front kitchen during the whole of that time.

COURT. Q. Was Shea there during that time? A. Not all the time—she was doing her work—she had to light the people up to bed—she was not sitting with me all the time—before he had his tea I was in the front kitchen—I was there when he came down stairs, and he went in the front kitchen till he took his tea, in the back.

MARGARET SHEA . I live at the house where Barrett lodged—I take the money—on the Sunday before he was taken, he was in bed all day till 5 or 6—he got up then and sat in the kitchen, and between 8 and 9 he had his tea—he remained there till 12, and then he went to bed, and next morning he washed his shirt and pawned it for 1s. 6d. to get his breakfast—he did not leave the back kitchen between 6 and 12—he was there all the time.

Cross-examined. Q. Did you see him pawn his shirt? A. Yes—I did not go with him to pawn it—I saw him take it off and give it to the woman to pawn—I don't know what woman it was—it was one of the women in the kitchen, I don't know the name—she came back and gave him 1s. 6d.—I don't know what day it was that I went before the Magistrate—I know Elizabeth White—I have known her eight or nine weeks—she was in the kitchen—Barrett has not lived there so long—he has been there on and off a good bit, about two months—he has lived there lately, three weeks regular—I could not tell you how many people were in the kitchen on this Sunday night, there were a good many—some of them staid in all day—we have twenty single, and nineteen double beds in the house—Barrett had a double bed—he was living there with a young woman named Ellen Sullivan—she was in the kitchen on the Monday morning at the time he pawned his shirt—he did not send her to pawn it—he stopped at home all the three Sundays he was there, and staid up till 12 all three Sundays—we shut up at 12 on Sunday—I don't know whether he sat up till we closed all three Sundays—I don't know what he did the Sunday before, or where he was—I don't know the day of the month of the Sunday I am speaking of.

COURT. Q. Are there one or two kitchens in your house? A. TwoBarrett was in the back kitchen all the time, from the time he came down, about 5.30.—he was never in the front kitchen at all—there were a good many in the front kitchen, and a good many in the back—I could not tell how many—I could not say whether there was as many as ten, there were more than three or four—I was in the back kitchen all the time, I never left it—it is there I take the money—I had my tea and all there—I did not go to do anything about the house till they all went to bed at 12—I am quite certain I never left the back kitchen all the time.

OLIVER JACOBS . I am the father of the prisoner Jacobs—I recollect his coming home on 15th March, which fell on a Sunday—just as we sat down to dinner, about 2 o'clock—he remained with me all the afternoon, up till 7 in the evening—I then left to go to my duty and saw no more of him—it was his constant habit to come home on a Sunday, even if he stopped away the remaining part of the week, to get his clean clothes—I live at 8, Ship Street, Millwall, close to the police station—I should say that is 2¼ or 21/2 miles from Five Bell Alley—I came home at about 6.15 next morning, and my son was in bed then—my wife is not here.

GUILTY .

Jacobs further PLEADED GUILTY. to a previous conviction in August, 1866.

BARRETT*†— GUILTY Five Years' Penal Servitude .

JACOBS**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude, and Twenty Lashes with the Cat .

Reference Number: t18680406-376

376. PHILIP PEARCE (18) , Feloniously wounding Henry Baldwin, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

HENRY BALDWIN . On the night of 25th February, between 10 and 11, I was in the Angel public-house, at Hayes—the prisoner was there—we were both the worse for drink—we had a quarrel there—we then went away together, and quarrelled again—after quarrelling some time, he said, "Baldwin, I will stab you"—I then felt him hit me in the breast with something sharp—I put my hand to my breast and found blood coming down—the prisoner fell down on his face, and I kicked him when he was on the ground—I was taken to a doctor.

GEORGE HENRY MEDLER . I was at the Angel public-house on this night—I was not in liquor—the prisoner and prosecutor went out together, about 11—I heard the prisoner say something to Baldwin as he went out, but I can't say exactly what it was—Baldwin hit him first—Pearce pulled his jacket half off, and then said he would stab the b——.—I did not see any knife—I afterwards went with Baldwin and washed the wound—they had had a few words in the tap room—it was all about nothing.

WILLIAM ISHERWOOD . I am a surgeon, at Hayes—Baldwin came to me on the night of 25th February, about 1 o'clock—he had an incised wound on the right side of the chest—it must have been done by a sharp instrument—it was about two and a quarter inches wide, and about a quarter of an inch deep—it had gone through his clothes—he was not very drunk then.

CHRISTOPHER GORSUCH (Policeman AR 809). I took the prisoner into custody on the morning of 26th February, for wounding the prosecutor—lie said, "I know I done it; enough to make any man, to have his eye knocked and kicked about by four or five of them"—he afterwards said, "I am sorry I done it; I did not intend to do it; I had a knife in my hand, eating a piece of bread and cheese at the time"—I have not found the knife.

Prisoner. Q. Did you see the state I was in when they kicked me and threw me about the road? A. You had bruises on your cheek, and your shin was grazed.

GEORGE HENRY MEDLER (re-examined). He was not eating bread and cheese at the time he went out of the house—he had not had any.

Prisoner's Defence. He kicked and knocked me about, and knocked me down. I had the knife in my hand. I begged and prayed of him not to hit me, but he did fearfully. It was caused by ray seeing him and his brother shooting a hare; they have threatened me ever since.

GUILTY . of unlawfully wounding. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of the provocation .— Four Months' Imprisonment .

NEW COURT.—Saturday, April 11 th, 1868.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-377

377. THOMAS COYLE, Robbery on Stephen Harding, and stealing from his person one watch, his property.

MR. FLOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.

STEPHEN HARDING . I am a labourer, of Camberwell—on Saturday night, 22nd February, about 12.15, I was in Victoria Street, Westminster, with Isaac Golding—we passed two men at the corner of Strutton Ground, and directly afterwards met a woman carrying a can of beer in her left hand—she deliberately knocked the can against Gelding's leg—the beer was spilled, and the two men ran up, caught hold of Golding, pulled him into the road, threatened him, and demanded 1s. for the beer—I was then standing on the pavement, and just at that time the prisoner ran up out of Strutton Ground—he is not one of the two men—he said, "This is my wife, and if you do not pay for that beer, I will pay you," and put up his hands to Golding in a fighting position—I stepped off the pavement, in front of him, and said, "Do not do anything too rash, my friend, for I have seen all that took place, and my friend is not to blame"—the prisoner said, "You are a witness, are you, you b——?" and took the can out of the woman's hand, and hit me a deliberate blow on the head, the scar of which still remains—it did not stun me, but it knocked me back nearly three yards; and at the same time he grasped at my watch, which was in my waistcoat pocket—the two men then said, "Let the b——have it"—I tried to get away—the others kept hold of Golding—the prisoner had got away a few yards when I missed my watch—it was quite safe before; I had looked to see the time, a few minutes before in Victoria Street—the woman was on the pavement, and said, "For God's sake, do not go back, you will get murdered;" and they all three ran into the Broadway, three men and a woman—that was not the woman who told me not to go—there was a lamp close by, at the corner—I was smothered in blood, and did not give information till next morning.

Cross-examined. Q. How many people were there about, eight or nine? A. There might be twelve—I have heard that the prisoner is a gas stoker—he produced a certificate at the Police Court, and said that he had been a sailor.

ISSAC GOLDING . I am a horsekeeper, of 54, Page Street, Westminster—I was with Harding, in Victoria Street, on the evening of 22nd February—I have heard his evidence; it is correct—I saw the prisoner strike him with a can, and follow him up and grab him by the waistcoat, where his watch was; but I saw nothing in his hand—I was robbed at the same time, and lost twopence from my trousers pocket.

GEORGE APSON (Policeman 119 B). I received a complaint from Harding, and on Saturday night, a fortnight after the robbery, I took the prisoner just by the Rifleman public-house, Great Peter Street, Westminster—I told him I should take him for assaulting a man and robbing him of his watch in the middle of the night—he said, "Let me go and call my pals" meaning in the Rifleman public-house—I took him to the station, marshalled him with seven or eight others, and sent for the prosecutor, who identified him—the prisoner said, "I work at a gas factory, I work hard for my living; I

was at work in the gas factory, so I could not be there; and on Sunday morning, as I was returning from my work, I saw Apson and Morgan in Strutton Ground, I was in Strutton Ground.

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that he works at a gas factory? A. Yes, in the winter—he has worked there four or five years off and on—Mr. Leader, the stoker at the gas works gave him a good character before the Magistrate.

GUILTY **†— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-378

378. JANE CHAPMAN (21) , Feloniously cutting and wounding Eliza Nugent, with intent to do her some grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. COOPER and DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS.

WILLIAMS and MOODY the Defence.

ELIZA NUGENT . I am the wife of John Nugent, of 151/2, Peerless Row, City Road—on 14th March, about 12.30 at night, I was with him in Bath Street—there were a good many persons there, they pushed against us and knocked my husband down—then the prisoner rushed at me, struck me on the head, knocked me down, and stabbed me on the forehead—the stab was the first blow, it knocked me down—she then knelt on me and stabbed me several times—I screamed, my husband rushed over and dragged her off—she said nothing—I got up and made my way to my own door—a cab was called—I was taken to the station, and a surgeon was sent for—I have been very ill from those wounds—I am quite certain it was the prisoner who stabbed me.

Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. Had not your husband been fighting someone? A. No—there was not several women there—there were men and boys standing round—there was a row with us, and my husband was down on the ground—he was knocked down, but he had not quarrelled with anybody—I did not know the prisoner before—she came to the station near 1 o'clock in the night—she attacked me without giving me any provocation—my husband and I had not been fighting with anyone—I did not have some words with the prisoner, nor did she say "You are more fit to be in bed than out here fighting"—I did not then strike her—there was not a regular row between us—nothing was said—I did not interfere with her, but she rushed at me.

JOHN NUGENT . I am the husband of the last witness—I was with her—I have heard her evidence, it is quite true—I had no quarrel till I was hit by one of the parties—no one spoke to me, but someone shoved against me, and a young chap stepped up to me, and said, "If you do not go on I will give you a punch in the eye," using bad language—he pushed me against the wall—I scrambled on my feet again, and that was the time I had the wrangle with him—that did not lead to a quarrel—I did not see him any more till I gave the prisoner in charge—three or four other men stood with their hands before me, sparring up to me, and I heard my wife scream—she was lying on the pavement, between three or four yards off—I made my way from the mob to her, and I had these lads hanging on my coat, punching my head—I saw the prisoner on top of my wife, and dragged her off—I am sure it was the prisoner—she rushed at me—I cannot say whether she had anything in her hand—I pushed her—I had hold of one or two men, they came round me, and then two constables came up and dispersed the mob—I went to the door and saw my wife outside bleeding—I sent for a cab, and as we went along (I was outside and one of the policemen inside)

I saw the prisoner in the mob at the corner of the next turning, and jumped off the cab and gave her in charge for stabbing my wife—she said, "I charge this man of robbing me of 3l., and a new Paisley shawl, and a bonnet"—I had not robbed her of anything.

Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. Had you known anything of the prisoner before? A. No—I had been to a friend's house, in Batholomew Square—I did not go out till 9, and my wife did not come out till nearly 12—I had had a glass or two; I had no spirits—I was stabbed in the leg—I do not know who did it—I did not say the prisoner stabbed me—I was surrounded by a lot of fellows—I did not say to the prisoner, "Where are you shoving to?"—I did not hear my wife say to the prisoner, "You Lint, you are better at home in bed than out here fighting"—I did not hear the prisoner complain at the station that she was stabbed too, or her clothes all cut and torn to pieces.

GERGE EUGENE YARROW . I am a surgeon, of 86, Central Street, St Luke's,—on Sunday morning, 15th March, I was fetched to the Old Street Station, and saw the prosecutrix there with nine incised wounds—the first was on her forehead, the upper right-hand side, about an inch long—another on the right side of her nose, about an inch and a half long—one on her cheek, two and a half inches long—her right ear was cut through; and on her right arm, above the elbow, was a wound about three inches long—another on the left side of her neck, about an inch long—incised and puncher, and about an inch deep—another behind her left shoulder, about an inch long—a superficial wound behind her neck, on the right side, about three inches long; and a superficial wound on her left hand and thumb—they were in dangerous situations, and she had lost a great deal of blood—her husband had a wound on his leg, about an inch long—there were corresponding marks on the clothes—the wounds were inflicted by some one-edged cutting instrument.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Did you see the prisoner? A. Yes, in the dock, at the station—I was not asked to examine her—I did not see whether her dress was cut.

HENRY TODD (Policeman G 142). I saw a crowd in Bath Street, and saw Mrs. Nugent down by her door after I had dispersed the mob—she was covered with blood, and was in a very weak state—as we went to the station in a cab, she pointed out the prisoner in the crowd that I had been dispersing.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. How far off the spot where this took place was the prisoner taken? A. About 200 yards—I saw this blue and white handkerchief (produced) round the prisoner's neck—I did not notice that it was cut—they do not give persons knives in prison—about twenty people were there when I got there—it was about 12.15—some of them were not sober—they were just clearing out of the public-houses—a great many robberies take place there—it is not a particularly bad neighbourhood; but it is a great thorough fare—some fresh blood was found on the prisoner's dress—the female searcher is not here.

COURT to GEORGE EUGENE YARROW. Q. Just look at this handkerchief and tell me whether in your opinion it is cut? A. No, I think not—if a knife had cut this, it would have cut a little deeper, and made a wound—the piece has quite gone out; and there is a piece gone from the edge—I think it is torn—I do not say that it is worn—a stitch has gone here, and part is quite gone.

Witness for the Defence.

HENRY STRATFORD . I am a box-maker, of 9, Attwell Street, Goswell Street—I was at the top of Baldwin Street and Bush Street, and saw a disturbance between two young men—the prosecutor was one of them, I do not know the other—I did not see the prisoner do anything; but I saw the woman strike her, and they had a fight, and both fell on the ground—I was there when it almost commenced—Mr. Nugent pulled the prisoner off his wife, and flung her in the road—I was as near as I am to you—I did not see anything in the prisoner's hand—I was close enough to do so if she had anything.

Cross-examined by MR. DOUGLAS. Q. Have you given this evidence before? A. Yes—I gave my name, the constable took it down, and afterwards he said that I had made a mistake—I did not give the name of Attwell (the witness had signed his depositions "Henry Attwell, his mark")—I said that my name was Stratford—I do not know the prisoner—I did not see the prisoner attack the prosecutrix, but I saw her speak to a young man who was fighting—I do not know his name—she said, "Is that you, Lint?"—he said, "Yes"—she said, "You are more fit to be in bed than out here fighting"—I saw the prosecutrix—I did not see her attacked by anyone, but I saw her strike the prisoner—I did not see the prisoner inflict any damage on her—they both fell down together—I did not see anyone else in contact with the prosecutrix—I saw no one injure her, and I did not know at the time that she was injured—I saw all that took place—I heard no cry, and saw no blood—I saw the prisoner dragged from the prosecutrix—I did not see what became of the prosecutrix—I did not take notice of anything else—Mr. Nugent got out of the cab, and gave the prisoner in charge—I did not then know that anything had happened to the prosecutrix—when he dragged the prisoner from the prosecutrix the prisoner went down the street—I do not take any interest in it.

MR. WILLIAMS. Q. You say you saw the prisoner thrown into the middle of the road, did you follow in that direction? A. Yes; there was a crowd round the prosecutrix—I did not know the prisoner before.

GUILTY .**†— Five Years' Penal Servitude .

THIRD COURT.—Saturday, April 11 th, 1868.

Before Mr. Commissioner Kerr.

Reference Number: t18680406-379

379. WILLIAM WHITE, WILLIAM GREEN, THOMAS STONE , and ELIZABETH WINDSOR, Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Richard Butler, and stealing therein one coffee-pot, one bottle of brandy, and other articles, his property. Second Count—Feloniously receiving the same.

MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.

RICHARD BUTLER . I keep the Galloway Arms, Thames Street, Lime-house—on 30th March I fastened up my house before going to bed—I left a silver cup, a coffee-pot, a bottle of brandy on the sideboard, and an electro-plate cup with a stem to it—I also left about nine shillings' worth of copper in the till—I came down at half-past six the next morning, and missed the articles—the buck parlour window was open, and the shutters

down—I saw this chisel (produced) compared with some marks on the window just under the sash, and it just fitted them—the edge of the chisel is level—this bottle is like the one I missed; it still contains a little brandy; it was full when I missed it—there is very little in it now.

Windsor. That bottle is mine, I have had it in my cupboard since Christmas.

HERBERT BUTT (Policeman K 62). On 31st March, from information, I apprehended White at 13, Devonshire Street, Commercial Road—all the prisoners were in the room together, and Jane Fry—I told White he was charged with burglary in the Galloway Arms' parlour—he said that he knew nothing about it—in the cupboard in the room I found this bottle (produced), with the label torn off as it is now—there was a little brandy in it—I asked him where he got the bottle—he said that it was their own—one of them said, "If you were five minutes later we should have been gone, we were going to a lead, that is a raffle.

JANE FRY . I live at 13, Devonshire Street, and occupy a back room on the first floor—Windsor and Green live on the next floor—they were there when I went to live in the house—I have seen the other prisoners there every night—on the morning of 31st March I found a silver cup with two handles under my bed—there was no name on it—I put it in my coal cupboard—I then went down into the yard, returned in about ten minutes, went to the cupboard, and found the cup was gone—Windsor came in, and I asked her if she knew anything about the cup—I told her I should make complaints to the police, and she said I had better do it, if I dare—I went to Arbour Square, and spoke to the police—I had Been all the prisoners in Windsor's room that morning, about half-past six or a quarter to seven—I saw the prisoners apprehended—I saw them the night of the 30th, before I went to bed, about half-past one, when the three men went out—they were all in Windsor's room—they went out, and I saw no more of them till the next morning—I saw this bottle on Windsor's table; it was half full of brandy then; they were drinking it—Green asked me to have a glass—Stone said they would go and look after a teapot that was buried in a field, and Windsor said, "I will go with you"—they went out and returned in about two hours—they said the teapot was gone, and the field had been turned all over—something was said about a cup—Windsor asked where they got it from, and one of the men said it was got from a house that laid at the back of the Eastern Music Hall—I do not know which of them said that—they said the brandy was so good, they thought the bloke had kept it for himself.

COURT. Q. Does White live there? A. He is always there—he was on the floor when I went in, with a pillow over his head—the fire was alight—I fetched some beefsteak for breakfast for them—White gave me 2s. 6d. in coppers to get it with—I cooked it, and had breakfast with them.

Windsor. She is a convicted thief. Witnees. That is not true; I have never been in prison in my life.

Stone. Q. Did I go home with these prisoners on Monday night? A. You went out with them—you came in about 6.45 on the Tuesday morning.

WILLIAM GOLDING . I am a labourer, of 35, Bridge Street, Lime house Fields—I am called up every morning by a private watchman—on Tuesday, 31st March, I was called about 4.30—my house is about three doors from the prosecutor's—when I got into the street, I saw three men, and one man

standing at the window of prosecutor's house—one of them said, "This is a nice morning, old bloke"—the house is near a music hall—if the prisoners were to put on their caps, I could swear they were the men.

JOHN BRADSHAW . I am a private watchman—on 31st March I called Golding at 4.30—about 6 o'clock I went to wake another person, close to the prosecutor's house—I saw four men standing near his house, but no female—I believe the three male prisoners to be the men.

COURT to RICHARD BUTLER. Does your house lie near a music hall? A. Yes; close to the Eastern Music Hall.

Green's Defence. These bottles have been laying at my house about six months. They were brought by a sailor who came from a voyage. Stone was at home, and White was in bed. I know nothing about the silver cup. I was washing myself when the constable came and charged me with the burglary, which I know nothing of. They only found an empty bottle, and all bottles are alike.

Stone's Defence. I was at home all Monday night till 7.30, when I went to Green's house, and they had just done breakfast.

Windsor's Defence. It is all done because we had a row, and she was drunk. GUILTY on Second Count .

WHITE and GREEN were further charged with having been before convicted, at Clerkenwell, White on 21 st September, 1866, and Green on 6th September, 1866, to which they PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each . WINDSOR. †— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . STONE.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-380

380. REBECCA FOX was indicted for bigamy.

MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.

THOMAS MALLET . I am the prisoner's father—I was present at her marriage, at Colchester—she was then married—to Mark Fox, a butcher—I do not know the date.

Cross-examined. Q. You say that the man's name was Mark Fox; was it not Mark Allen Finch. A. I never heard that name—my daughter never told me that that was his name.

THOMAS CHALKLEY . I produce a certificate of marriage, which I have compared with the register at Colchester; it is a true copy—I was not present at the marriage (Read: "Mark Fox and Rebecca Mallet, married at Colchester, 21st June, 1865").

JOSEPH ANDREW MOORE . I am a sergeant of the Royal Artillery, quartered at Woolwich—I was married to the defendant at St. Peter's Roman Catholic Chapel, in 1862—this is the certificate—it applies to myself and the prisoner; she is the woman I married—I did not marry her at Colchester, in 1855, in the name of Mark Fox—at the time I was married to her, I did not know that she was a married woman—some eighteen months after our marriage she went down to Colchester, to see if her husband was living, and she came back and told me that he was alive.

Cross-examined. Q. How long did you live with her? A. I married her in 1862, and it was in September, 1863, I think, that she went down to Colchester, and came back and told me—she did not say that her husband's name was Mark Allen Finch, or that he was suffering from small-pox when she left Colchester—she told me that he very much ill-used her, and she

left about two or three months after their marriage—after she came back from Colchester we lived as brother and sister for about three years—I had a great many reasons for not leaving her—we slept in different rooms—I had connection with her three or four times during that time—I left her in May, 1866—I had not been fascinated by the charms of some other woman—I know a Miss Fortune—she was only a friend—I have written to the prisoner about Miss Fortune—I did not prosecute the prisoner for bigamy because I wanted to be married again—I wanted to be at liberty to marry if I wished—I never made any proposal of marriage to Miss Fortune—I cannot answer whether there is anybody I have promised to marry if this woman is convicted—I am keeping company with a woman, and have declared my love to her, and she loves me—this letter is in my writing (Read: "Dear Lizzie I have just received your last letter, and it is just now roll time, if you come to-morrow to see me, you will be very welcome, but do not lose a situation. Yours sincerely, Alfred")—these letters are also in my writing—one of them was dated 22nd February, 1867, to Dear Lizzie, and stated, "You promised to send me your likeness, and I hope you will not forget to do so when you get it taken—I do not see anyone here I should like to marry, and I suppose you will not find one for me"—the second was to the same, dated 11th March, 1868, and stated, "I shall come up to see you next Thursday evening, at 7 o'clock, you need not wait tea—I have something to propose to you, as you say you are getting tired of London"—those are all my letters—I saw her on boxing-night, after I had written those letters—I went to her lodging—I meant by saying in one of the letters that I left with a lighter heart than on the Thursday, because of the sin I had committed—on the Sunday following boxing-night I induced her to go to church—she came down to Woolwich after me—I was told she was outside, and I went out the back away—she slept in Woolwich that night, and she then told me that her husband wag dead—I said if he was dead she was to get the certificate and send it to me—after that I got permission to write to her again—while he was living I was not allowed—I was not about to be married—I wished to be at liberty—I do not remember before I was married having a conversation with her, in which she said her husband was dead—she told me that she had been married, and that her husband had been married in a false name, and was since dead—I had no idea of marrying her then—I was a libertine—I had not become a member of the Roman Catholic church—when I did I reformed altogether—I do not exactly remember when that was—I first saw her in 1859, and I heard from her in 1863 that her husband was a—she suggested herself going down to Colchester to find whether her husband was dead or alive—she married me in her maiden name—I became acquainted with Miss Fortune twelve months ago last Christmas—I did not begin any conversation with the prisoner, by saying, "Lizzie, where is your first husband?"

MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Did you know that she was a married woman at the time you married her? A. I did not—I made inquiries, in consequence of her strange conduct—I thought there must be something on her conscience—she was married to me in her maiden name.

MICHAEL McAVOY . I live at 33, Waterman Fields, Woolwich; and am clerk at St. Peter's Roman Catholio Church—I produce a certificate of marriage—it was between Joseph Andrew Moore and Sarah Elizabeth Mallet—I was present—the last witness is the person mentioned in the certificate of marriage—(Read: "Joseph Andrew Moore and Sarah Elizabeth Mallet, at

St. Peter's Roman Catholic Church, 1st February, 1862, and signed J. Saunders, M.A.")

Cross-examined. Q. Are you aware that he became a Roman Catholic when she was married to this man? A. Yes—she was baptized before her marriage—persons if they have been baptized before are baptized again in the same name, and they are baptized conditionally.

COURT to JOSEPH ANDREW MOORE. Q. Was the prisoner baptized before her marriage? A. Yes—I was baptized myself—I cannot tell how long it was before—I do not think she went to communion—she went to confession, and I could never get her to go again—I know perfectly well that the priest of St. Peter's would not celebrate the marriage if there had been any doubt about her being married before.

JOHN RANDLE . I am a constable of the Woolwich Dockyard—I apprehended the prisoner on 12th February, near Charing Cross—I was with Mr. Moore—he said he was going to give her in custody for marrying him whilst her first husband was alive—she said at the Court that she went to Colchester after she had been married to Moore eighteen months, and found out that her husband was alive, and came back and told him so.

Cross-examined. Q. Did she not also say that she was surprised at Moore, she did not think he wouldmake such a charge? A. Yes—I stayed outside the house while Moore went up to her and brought her down—he brought me up from Woolwich to take her in custody.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-381

381. JOSEPH MARTIN (50) , Unlawfully meeting with another person unknown, with intent, &c.

MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. CUNNINGHAM the Defence.

GUILTY of an Indecent Assault Four Months' Imprisonment .

ESSEX CASES.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18680406-382

382. GEORGE PHILLIPS (38), was indicted for feloniously forging and uttering a certified copy of a register of baptism.

MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM SMITH . I am a shoe manufacturer, at Chelmsford—on 27th April, last year, I caused an advertisement to be put in one of the daily papers in reference to a sum of 500l. that I was claiming—on 1st May the prisoner came to my shop: I am quite certain he is the man; he was in my shop nearly two hours—when ho came in he held out these two documents, and said, "Are these worth 3l. to you?"—I looked at them and said, "Yes, if they are what I want, they are"—I examined them—I said, "How came you to know where to get them, and so soon?"—he replied, "We can get anything to our office for 300 years back"—I then said I wanted the certificate of Mary Boutell, the sister—he said, "I wish you had said so, for I saw Mary's whilst I was searching for the others"—I said I also wanted the marriage certificate of the father and mother of the three—he said he should be able to get that, but not for a day or two, for he would have to get that in his own time, not his employers'—I said I should also want him to search and see that there were no other members of the family,

and to make a declaration to that effect—he said he would do so—he said his employers were Messrs. Showell & Co., solicitors, in the City—there is no such firm—I searched the Law List, and found no such name—I gave the prisoner three sovereigns, and he wrote this receipt in my presence (The certificates purported to be of the baptism of Thomas Boutell on 9th April, 1763, and of William Boutell on 12th October, 1761; certified by Rev. Joseph Atkinson, perpetual curate. The receipt was dated 1st May, 1867, and was signed, "For Messrs. Showell & Co., Thomas Ward")—next day, 2nd May, the prisoner came again; he then handed me these two other certificates, and a printed form of declaration, partly printed and partly written—he filled it up in my presence—he said he had carefully searched the parish books, and there were no others of that name to be found: in fact, he said the parish clerk was a very old man, and ho never remembered any others—the prisoner asked if we had a magistrate near—I said, "Yes, there was Captain Travers, in the Orderly Room at the barracks opposite"—we went over together—Captain Travers read the declaration, and said to me, "Is this all true?"—I said, "Yes," believing it to be so, and the prisoner said, "Yes;" then Captain Travers signed it (The one certificate was of the baptism of Mary Boutell, on 4th January, 1765; the other was of the marriage of Thomas Boutell and Elizabeth Cripps, on 12th August, 1759, at Stanmore. The declaration was in substance, that search had been made)—upon this the prisoner drew out a scale of expenses, amounting to 1l. 8s.—I gave him 2l. 10s., being 22s. for his time and trouble—I took no receipt for that—he wrote his address in my presence, and gave it me, "Mr. Ward, 27, Wood Street, City"—I afterwards went to Stanmore to search myself, in the July following—I looked for the original entries—the books are here—no such name was to be found—there is no Joseph Atkinson, perpetual curate, there—I afterwards went to 27, Wood Street, Cheapside, and could hear nothing of the prisoner there.

Prisoner. Q. Some of the other witnesses have stated that I had a beard and moustache, had I any when I came to you? A. No; you know very well you are the man—the receipts have not been in my possession ever since—I sent them to my solicitors, Messrs. Maples—those are them.

WILLIAM RICHARDSON . I am parish clerk of Great Stanmore—there is a parish of Little Stanmore; they are adjoining parishes—there is no Joseph Atkinson, perpetual curate, in either parish—I have been parish clerk about two years, and a half—Mr. Norman is the clergyman of Little Stan more—there are no entries in our books corresponding with these certificates.

Prisoner. Q. How long has Mr. Norman been clergyman at Little Stanmore? A. I can't say exactly; I think nearly two years—Great Stan more is a rectory.

WILLIAM LAMB . I am assistant overseer of the parish of Kingston-onThames—I have known the prisoner some years—I should know his handwriting—I believe this receipt to be his writing, except the signature Thomas Ward—I don't swear to that—it is not his usual writing—I have no doubt about the body—the four certificates I also believe to be his, and also the address, "Mr. Ward, 27, Wood Street, City"—the signature of Joseph Atkinson is also his.

Prisoner. Q. Did you over see me write? A. Yes, in Mr. Bartlett's office, and also in your own house, at Surbiton Hill—I have seen you write many times in Mr. Bartlett's office, when you have brought in certificates and different things—I have no hesitation in saying these are your writing.

MR. POLAND. Q. Did you know his father? A. Very well; he was registrar of births, deaths, and marriages, at Kingston, some years ago—the prisoner lived with him.

JAMES HOOK (Policeman 291). I took the prisoner into custody, on 13th March, at 43, Winchester Street, Pimlico—Mrs. Birch gave him into custody—I took him to the Station—he gave the name of Thomas Waters—I told him I took him into custody for endeavouring to obtain money under false pretences—this certificate was given to me at the time by Mrs. Birch—at the Station the inspector said to him, "Have you changed your name?"—the prisoner made no answer—the inspector said, "I know you by the name of George Phillips, I have known you for a long time"—the prisoner said, "Yes, sir, that is my right name, George Phillips."

Prisoner. Q. I suppose it is not unusual for persons to give a false name when in charge? A. No, it is often done—when Mr. Smith identified you were put in the yard with five other persons, something like yourself—there were none so young as fifteen; some were younger than you and some older; one was an ex-policeman.

DENNIS HARE (Police Inspector). I knew the prisoner's father very well—he was registrar of births, deaths, and marriages, at Kingston—he died four or five years ago—I have known the prisoner about sixteen years.

Prisoner. Q. Did you ever know any charge of dishonesty made against him? A. No—I never knew you charged with felony—you were once charged with stealing a dog, but discharged.

Prisoner's Defence. I have always denied I was the man that did it, and I deny it now.

GUILTY .—He further PLEADED GUILTY to other indictments for like offences.— Eighteen Months Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-383

383. JOHN BROOKS, Feloniously shooting at William Walford, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARTON the Defence.

WILLIAM WALFORD . I live at 15, South Street, Stratford—on 11th March I was with some boys by Angel Lane Bridge, Stratford—Brooks had been fighting with some other boys—they asked me to go and help them fight, and I went along with them to fight Brooks—I did not fight at all, I did not get near enough to him to fight; I was going to—Brooks and the others ran away; I and others ran after him up Weston Street, and when I got about eight yards from him, he turned round, pulled a pistol out of the front of his coat and shot me—I don't know whether any others were running by the side of me or near me at the time; I don't think so—I think I was the nearest of the lot—there were three of his boys along with him—I was struck in the eye and face with something, I ran a few yards and fell into a lot of water—I went to a doctor, and have been in the hospital since—I have suffered great pain—I had seen the prisoner before—I had been friends with him—I never had any quarrel with him.

Cross-examined. Q. How old are you? A. Sixteen next birthday—this was the first time I had been doing this—I had not been out evening after evening with a party of fourteen boys waylaying any respectable persons that passed: I never did—I had a rope in my hand at this time—I did not run after the prisoner with it and say I would give him a good hiding—I had the rope to bit him with—there were not twelve or fourteen boys with

me—I think there were about ten or twelve—I don't know what they had—we did not attack any one or two boys that happened to be together—I have not done so night after night—I have a bandage over my eye by order of the doctor at the London Hospital—I had it on when I came out of the hospital, and I have not taken it off since—I have never been charged with any improper conduct: I have been in bothers, but never charged in my life—I have not been in another row since this—the prisoner is not an associate of mine—I am in the lamp-shop on the Great Eastern Railway—the prisoner is apprenticed to a builder.

JOHN MARTIN . I am an agent, and live at West Ham—on 5th March, about 8 o'clock, I was passing along Angel Lane, Stratford—I saw the last witness running along, and the prisoner—there were two crowds of boys coming up to the bridge, one party chasing the other—I heard a boy shout out, looked, and saw the prisoner raise his arm, and saw a flash at the end of his arm, and heard a report; and I saw the boy drop down—he called out, "Oh! he has shot me"—the prisoner ran away with the others.

THOMAS EDWARD BOKETT . I am house-surgeon at the Lodon hospital—the boy was brought there on the 5th March—he had three wounds in his face, and a wound in the eye, the sight being destroyed by the wound—I took two stones out of the wound in his forehead, one was lost during the operation, but it was exactly like this, which was found in the centre of the eye-ball—I had to take his eye out—the other eye is not at all injured, nor do I think it likely that it will be—he is nearly well—it is more than a week since I have seen him; I think he is quite well.

Cross-examined. Q. Well enough to take off the bandage? A. I should think so.

WILLIAM STURGEON (Policeman K 340). I took the prisoner in custody—he said the boy had no business to meddle with him.

MR. WARTON. called the following Witnesses for the Defence.

CHARLES WILKINSON . I am turned nine years of age—I was with Brooks on this evening—I saw Walford and a whole lot of boys with him, about thirteen—they were bigger than me or the prisoner—they had sticks, and Walford had a rope—they came right on to us as we were going home—I did not see what Walford did with the rope—I did not hear the pistol—I don't know whether there had been anything of this sort before—that was the first evening I went with them.

WILLIAM WILKINSON . I saw a lot of boys running after Brooks on this evening—they were bigger boys than me—they had sticks—I have seen them on other evenings, but not doing the same.

HENRY EDWARDS . On a Wednesday night I saw Walford with a lot more big fellows—they ran up to us, and said, "We will warm you to-night"—there were fifteen or sixteen of them; there were only five or six of our party—I have often seen them on other evenings.

PETER BUNS . I am fifteen years old—I was with Edwards and heard what Walford and the other boys said about warming us—there were about fourteen of them, they were bigger boys than Brooks or me—they attacked us; they had sticks—Walford had a rope.

JOB BROOKS . I am the prisoner's father—when he came home he was most terribly knocked about.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .He received a good character.— One Month's Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-384

384. JOSEPH WAITE (45), PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 134 knives, of William Vokins, from a barge in a dock.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

KENT CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Keating.

Reference Number: t18680406-385

385. RICHARD BISHOP (21), was indicted for the wilful murder of Alfred Cartwright. He was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.

MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SLEIGH

the Defence.

MATILDA CARTWRIGHT . I am the wife of Henry Cartwright, a shoemaker, of 1, South Street, Forest Hill—the deceased, Alfred Cartwright, was my son—he was twenty-seven years of age in June last—he had a wife and three children, and another expected—he had a little shop, which his wife managed—he himself had been for nearly four years potman at the Swiss Cottage—last Thursday night, 2nd April, from 11 o'clock till half-past, I went to the Swiss Cottage, to get half a pint of beer for my supper—I found my son there, and my husband also—I did not get my beer—my husband, my son, and I shortly proceeded to come home together—I accompanied my son to his house; I was going to see his wife—when we got to the house, we found several persons round the shutters, making a disturbance—the prisoner was one of them—I did not know him at all—they were quarrelling, and knocking and battering against the shutters, and my son asked them not to make such a disturbance—he said, "Move on a little further; don't make a disturbance just here"—with that, the prisoner rose his fist, and made three strikes at my son, but he jumped from the blows off into the road, and missed them, avoided the blows—he went across to his father and said, "Father, I can't put up with this; I will go and see if I can find a constable, and have him locked up, at least, have him moved further"—the prisoner could hear that—we went across the road, and looked up the street to see if we could see a policeman, and we could not, and on our return we saw a policeman with the mob, dispersing them as he could—at that time, the prisoner and his party were just a few steps further on, and as my son came towards them, the prisoner said, "There is the fellow that I offered a prop to"—I don't know what a prop means, unless it is a blow; I understood it as that—he then rose his fist, and struck him a blow on the side of the right eye—it was a violent blow; the mark is on him now—the policeman was there then; he saw the blow struck—my son gave him in charge to the policeman, and he took him in charge for the blow, and proceeded to take him to the station—he took hold of his left arm, and they walked on in that way; I, my son, and my husband followed after—my son was walking on the left side of the policeman, and I and my husband walked by his side—as we were walking along in that way, the prisoner looked round in front of the policeman, and said to my son, "Here, I wish to know, do you mean to look me up for that simple crack"—we had then gone from about half to three-quarters of a mile—my son Raid, "Yes, I do mean it; if you don't know better, you must be taught"—he said, "Then you do mean to press the charge"—my son said, "I do"—for a moment or two after those

words they were quiet, and then he deliberately rose his right hand, and thrust it round into the body of my son, and he fell—he faltered a moment, but he never took another step—he fell into his father's arms; he supported him—he said, "Mother, I am stabbed"—I saw the glitter of the knife as the prisoner struck round in front of the policeman—my son sank to the ground, as his father helped him—I undid his waistcoat and the waistband of his trousers, and his warm blood came over my bands—the policeman directly conveyed the prisoner to the station; I and my husband remained with my son—a stretcher was afterwards brought, and he was taken into the station, and Dr. Wilkinson looked at him; he bound a large bandage round the wound—it was thought right to take him immediately to the hospital—a cab was procured, and I and the policeman went with him—but he died in the cab, in my arms—the prisoner was perfectly sober.

Cross-examined. Q. Was it directly after the prisoner asked your son whether he was really going to give him into custody for the assault, that the blow was struck? A. There was not more than two moments—he muttered some word but I could not understand it—when I first saw these people at my son's shutters they were making a great noise, quarrelling and talking very loud, and talking about fighting—they were challenging each other to fight for a shilling—I can't say how many there were, but there seemed to be a good many—they were making quite a riot when we came up—the policeman had a good deal of difficulty to disperse them—they were noisy and violent—there was some woman, I believe, that was in liquor, by the way of her talking and going on—I did not notice much, but I believe there was one in liquor—it was about from a quarter io ten minutes to 12, when the policeman took the prisoner in charge—this row was going on for some quarter of an hour or twenty minutes.

HENRY CARTWRIGHT . I am the husband of last witness, and father of the deceased—on Thursday last I was with my wife at the Swiss Cottage—I accompanied her and my son to his house—when we got there I saw the prisoner and some other persons—I did not know the prisoner before—he was quarrelling with some woman that was there—my son came up at the same time, and wished him to move on, as he did not want that disturbance in front of his place—the prisoner upon that aimed a blow at him—he stepped on one side out of the way of it, and sprang out into, the road—he said, "Father, I can't stand this, we will find a policeman"—after looking up the road, we came back and found a policeman a few steps from the place where the quarrel was—as my son came up I heard the prisoner say, "That is the man, 'or' the b——' that I wanted to give a prop to, but he would not take it"—my son got closer to the prisoner, and the prisoner shot out his hand and struck him a tremendous blow in the eye; the marks are there now—I did not see that the prisoner struck him with anything but his fist—my son had not time to say anything—the policeman took hold of the prisoner in an instant—and my son gave him into custody—the policeman laid hold of the prisoner, and they walked along towards the station, and I and my son and my wife as well—when we got up before Mr. Beadle's house, the prisoner called my son in front of him—he nodded his head and said, "Do you mean to give me in custody for this simple crack?"—he said, "Yes, if you don't know better, you must be learnt better"—they had not gone another step farther, I think, before the prisoner muttered something else, and then he reached round in front of the policeman with his hand, and stabbed my sun in his side, and he fell down instantly

into my arms—I caught him—we had gone, it might be a little over a mile before the prisoner said, "Do you intend to lock me up, eh?"—from that to three-quarters, if it was as much as that, but I don't think it was threequarters of a mile.

JONATHAN SHEPHERD (Policeman 293). I was on duty last Thursday night in the Grove Road, Forest Hill—there was a disturbance in the Park Road, in which the prisoner and others were engaged—I tried to disperse them, and desired the prisoner to go home—he was about to fight with a man for a shilling; they were arguing together—I prevented the fight—they afterwards got together again, and said they were determined to fight—I again desired the prisoner to go home—at this time the deceased came up—the prisoner was close by me at the time—the deceased asked for the man that had previously attempted to assault him—I said, "I don't know the man"—he said, "I will point him out"—the prisoner immediately plunged forward, and struck him a blow on the right eye—upon that he gave him into custody—I took him, and we all proceeded together to the station—the prisoner did not say anything when I took him—I took him by the left arm—I put my right arm inside his left, and held him firmly—his right hand was free; he had not much power with his left hand, because I had him by the lower part of that arm—the deceased, and his father and mother, walked on my left—before we got to the station the prisoner asked the deceased if he intended to be so hard-hearted as to lock him up for that common assault—he said he did; if he did not know better he must be taught—we had walked about 300 yards from where I took him when the first question was asked; it was asked on two or three occasions—I should say we went over three-quarters of a mile before there was any further conversation—when we arrived in High Street the deceased came by my left arm (I had previously warned him to go and walk by his father and mother in the road)—he came up as if to ask me a question, and the prisoner, leaning his head a little to the front, said to him, "Then you will lock me up, eh?"—the deceased said, "I will"—I then saw the prisoner's arm go very sharply in front of my body, in a moment—I seized the prisoner by the right wrist, and at the same time heard the deceased say, "I am stabbed"—I took this knife (produced) from the prisoner's right hand; it has a spring back to it, so that it will not shut until the spring is touched—it was covered with blood at the time I took it from his hand—I said to the prisoner, "What have you done?"—he said, "The b——won't get over that"—I called for help, and two brother constables coming up behind we took the prisoner to the station—he was sober—I afterwards went book, and took the wounded man to the station, and then assisted him to the hospital—he died on the way.

Cross-examined. Q. How often did the prisoner ask Cartwright whether he intended to give him into custody? A. Two or three times—he did not ask it immediately on my taking him into custody—I should think we had proceeded about 300 yards—up to that time I had not the slightest difficulty in holding the prisoner—he did not become excited then; he did after he had stabbed the deceased, not before; and he was not continually addressing the deceased while I was conveying him to the station—I requested the deceased to walk in the road with his father and mother, and no further conversation took place—it was after the deceased answered "I will" that the stab was given—after that it was with great difficulty that I took him to the station—I had to carry him on my right side; but previously to that

I had no difficulty at all—at the examination before the Magistrate he said he must have been drunk, or he would not have done it.

GEORGE RAINE . I am house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—about 2.30 last Friday morning, the deceased was brought there by his mother and the constable; he was quite dead—later in the morning I examined the body: there was a large bruise on the right eye, and a wound in the side, which had penetrated the liver and a large artery in the abdomen; it went back to the spine—the front wall would press in with the knife, so that it might not be more than three inches in extent—the loss of blood from that wound was the cause of death—a knife of this description would inflict such a wound.

GUILTY .— DEATH .

Reference Number: t18680406-386

386. JOHN ADAMS (38), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Richard Greaves, and stealing therein four coats and other articles, the property of John Harvey, having been before convicted; also to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Davey, and stealing therein one coat and other articles, his property; and the said JOHN ADAMS, and MARY ANN BROWN (34), to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Arthur Leopold Parker Snow, and stealing therein four pairs of boots, one tea pot, and other articles, his property; also to stealing one pair of boots, two sheets, and other articles, of John Collins. ADAMS**— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude . BROWN— Six Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-387

387. EDWARD SLADE and CAROLINE PLUNKETT, Robbery on Ann Bloomer, and stealing a pocket handkerchief and 6s. 6d. her money.

MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.

HENRY BLOOMER . I am a labourer, of Hamilton Road, Norwood—on Saturday night, 22nd March, between 12 and 1 o'clock, my wife and I were going home, when three men and a woman stopped us, and the prisoner asked me what I wanted with the woman—I said, "She is my wife"—he then knocked her down with his banjo—I asked him what he meant by it—then he knocked me down—the young woman pitched into my missis, and scratched her—I cried for help, and the policeman came and took the two prisoners—I heard one of them say, "Knock them down, they have got plenty of money"—that was at the time my wife was knocked down.

Slade. Q. How was I dressed? A. You had a black comforter, and a high hat; you also had a wig—we were not quarrelling—my wife did not miss her money till you were locked up.

ANN BLOOMER . I am the wife of the last witness—we were walking quietly together home, along the Gipsy Road—the prisoner pulled me away from my husband, and knocked me down with the handle of his banjo—I am now under the doctor's hands, in consequence of the violence received—the young woman took hold of my hair, and held me down—I heard one of them say, "They have got money, I know"—then someone said, "Come on, here's the Bobby" and then they ran away, and the policeman came up—I had two florins, sixpence, and about twopen halfpenny in copper, safe about two minutes before—when the violence began, I let go my hand; I did not think of the money afterwards, I was so afraid.

Slade. Q. Who was beating you when we came up? A. You were the first that hit me—I did not call "Murder!" till you came up—I did not think of my money sooner because I was in agony, and suffering—I never said, "Oh dear, what shall we do? we shall be locked up now."

THREADER FENN (Policeman P 72). The prosecutor and his wife passed me on the morning in question, shortly before I was called to their assistance—they were walking quietly—the first noise I heard was a cry of "Murder!"—I was following them—about forty minutes after they passed me—I went up to them, and saw the prosecutor lying on the ground with Slade—the female said—"I give these two people into custody"—I said, "What for?"—she said, "Assaulting me"—she was very excited, and said nothing about the money then—on the way Slade said, "I give this party in charge for assaulting me"—the prisoners did not appear sober—the prosecutor appeared sober, but the woman appeared very excited, and blood was running down in front of her.

Slade. Q. On this morning, didn't I tell you to lock that man up for assaulting me; and didn't I have my eye cut open? A. There were no marks of violence on you; there was blood on your face—I never saw you before you were given into custody.

Slade's Defence. I had been playing at a public-house, and was walking home with the female prisoner—I heard the prosecutor ill-using his wifeshe was crying "Murder!"—I went to protect her, and got assaulted.

Plunkett's Defence. I didn't touch the woman.

COURT to ANN BLOOMER. Q. What became of the handkerchief. A. The money was wrapped up in it.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-388

388. EDWARD SLADE and CAROLINE PLUNKETT were again indicted for assaulting Ann Bloomer, and occasioning her actual bodily harm.

ANN BLOOMER repeated her former evidence.

GUILTY Six Months' Imprisonment each .

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-389

389. EDWARD VAUGHAN ARBUCKLE (37) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 18s. 6d. from Frederick Marmaduke Marsden, and 3l. from Thomas Wittaker, with intent to defraud.

MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.

HARRIET ANDREWS . I am single, and assist Mr. Marsden in his shop—on 12th March the prisoner came to pay his account, which was 4l. 1s. 6d.—he gave me this cheque (produced) for 5l., and I gave him the difference, 18s. 6d.

FREDERICK MARMADUKE MARSDEN . I received this cheque and took it to the bank, but could not get the money on it—I was informed that it would not be paid—(Read: "24th February, 1868. Messrs. Cox &c Co., please pay Messrs. Marsden & Co. 5l., and charge the same to Edward Vaughan Arbuckle, Royal Artillery").

Prisoner. Q. On what day did you give me in charge? A. 12th March—about four hours elapsed before I gave you in custody—when I received the cheque I drove to your father at Woolwich, and then gave you into custody—that was before the cheque was presented.

ROBERT MOLL . I am clerk to Mr. Wittaker, linendraper, Blackheath—on

14th February the prisoner came to pay his account; it was 1l. 2s. 6d.—he bought some few other things, and then paid me with this cheque for 5l. (produced)—I gave him 3l. change, paid the cheque into the North Kent Bank next day, and it was returned on the 19th not paid—(Read: "14th February, 1868. Messrs. Cox & Co. GentlemenPlease pay bearer 5l., and charge the same to General Arbuckle, Royal Artillery. G. V. Arbuc Jele")

Prisoner. Q. Is Mr. Wittaker in Court? A. No—I visited your father afterwards, and he said it must take its course; he had ordered you not to draw—I did not see any other member of your family then—I saw your brother at Woolwich—he did not urge me to prosecute you—Mr. Wittaker has not received any order to attend here to-day.

Prisoner to F. M. MARSDEN. Q. Did any of my family urge you to prosecute me? A. I saw your father and sister—they said you were a very troublesome son, and you ought to be prosecuted—I cannot say that those were the words—your sister was never in my shop.

THOMAS WRIGHT . I am a stable-keeper, at Black heath—on 12th March the prisoner presented a cheque for 10l. to me—he owed me at that time 7l. 8s., for riding horses—I did not give him the change then—I put him off till next day—I never got any money on the cheque—(Read: "24th February, 1868. Messrs. Cox & Co. Please pay Mr. Wright, or order, 10l., and charge the same to General Arbuckle, Royal Artillery. G. V. Arbuckle").

FREDERICK PARCEY . I am olerk to Messrs. Cox & Co., army agents—they are bankers for General Arbuckle, and also for some of the sons, who are in the army—I believe there are four sons in the army—these three cheques were presented at our bank, and we had no authority to pay them—the prisoner had no account of his own, or any reason to suppose we should pay them.

Prisoner. Q. Have you not paid similar cheques to this before? A. No; never without the authority of the General—I am not aware that cheques have often been paid on various occasions.

BENJAMIN HUTCHINSON VAUGHAN ARBUCKLE . I am a lieutenant-general in Her Majesty's service, and live at Little Heath, Charlton—the prisoner is my son—he was formerly in the West India Regiment—I never gave him any authority to draw on Messrs. Cox & Co. on my account—I have often told him not to do so on any account, and the last few years particularly—what I have said also applies to these three cheques—I have one son in the army, in India, in the 3rd Buffs—the prisoner drew on his account a short time ago.

Prisoner. Q. Have I not constantly, for several years past, drawn on you with similar cheques to these? A. You have occasionally had permission—I allowed you money when you were in France—I did not allow you to draw on me when you were in Jamaica, or the Crimea, or Montreal—Cox's have never paid without permission from me—you have no money whatever in my hands—I expended 1000l. when you got a commission, in paying your debts—I tried to get you to go to Australia, but you would not go; and I had nothing else to do but to bring your conduct forward—I have done it very reluctantly—your debts amounted to 540l.—I have told you that I must get rid of you—you are my eldest son—you have nothing whatever to do with my property—some clothes of yours were sent back to the tailors, because we knew that the man would not be paid, and we advised him to take them back.

MR. METCALFE. Q. I believe you are supported by all your sons? A.

Yes—I was obliged to lock up the plate—some of my clothes and plate was stolen, and taken to the pawn-shop—I am in my seventy-fifth year.

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that his father never brought him up to any profession until he was twenty-four years of age, and that he had been, accustomed to draw on his father for several years, and he had never made any objection.

GUILTY Five Years' Penal Servitude .

Reference Number: t18680406-390

390. CHARLES ROBINSON was indicted for a rape on Fanny Croucher.

MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-391

391. JAMES GREEN (30), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.— Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-392

392. WILLIAM SWEENEY (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Robert Graham, and stealing therein one globe of artificial fruit, his property.

MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.

SOPHIA GRAHAM . I am the wife of Robert Graham, of 6, Frenly Place, St. Paul's, Deptford, a store-keeper—on 13th March, about 8.45, I was sitting in my back parlour—my daughter spoke to me—I went into my front parlour and found the window drawn up as high as it could be—I missed a globe of artificial fruit which had been standing on a small table in the centre of the room, a quarter of an hour before—I had closed the shutters on the outside, but had not fastened them—the fruit was brought to me next morning—this is it (produced) it is my husband's.

JOSEPH SPENCER (Policeman R 187). On the night of 13th March, about 10 o'clock, I was on duty in Lower Road, Deptford, and saw the prisoner by the side of a costermonger's barrow at Stanley Tavern, with the globe of fruit in his hand—I asked him whether he had it for sale, he said no, his master had got it for 6s. in Middle Lane, Deptford—I asked his master's name, he said he did not know, but it was either Williams or Searle—he was about a mile and a quarter from tho prisoner's house—I asked where his master was—he said that he had just stopped behind to speak to a man, but he would overtake him presently—a man came up in a few minutes, who the prisoner addressed as his master—I asked him if he knew anything of the case of fruit—he said that he bought it in Middle Lane, Deptford, for 6s.—the prisoner told him I had stopped him—he said, "That is all right, he is only doing his duty, if he likes to go to the station, I can soon convince him that it is all right"—on the way to the station the other man escaped.

Prisoner's Defence. The man I worked for gave it to me to hold. I do not know where he lives, he used to come to a public-house and meet me in the tap-room.

GUILTY Nine Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-393

393. THOMAS O'DONNELL (25) , Feloniously wounding Edwin Bridge, a police-officer in the execution of his duty.

MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution.

EDWIN BRIDGE (Policeman P 339). On 11th February, at 3.30, I was on duty in plain clothes in Brockley Lane, Deptford, and as I passed the Maypole public-house, the landlord came out and made a complaint to me—while

I was speaking to him, a man not in custody came out followed by two others, one of whom pulled off his coat and sparred up to me; on which the prisoner rushed out of his house, pulled off his coat, and said, "Where is the b——?"—I stood with my hands in my pockets for some time, the other men were trying to calm him, and keep him back, and soothe him down, but he rushed at me, and gave me a violent blow on the head and another on the chest, and knocked me down—while I was on the ground I was kicked by the prisoner and others—I got up and defended myself against five—I got some distance back, and said, "The next one that comes up to me I shall knock down with my truncheon"—they came up several times, and after defending myself some time, I became exhausted, and went into an adjoining yard, followed by the prisoner and others—they got me down and kicked me all over the body, and jumped on my head, and the prisoner said, "You b——I will murder you"—the others made use of the same expression—when they had done kicking me, the prisoner said, "I think the b——has got enough now, he will not get up again," jumping on me at the time—I became insensible but subsequently got up, and got to the gate of the yard, and as I went out the prisoner struck at me again—I struggled to get away from him, and my coat was torn to pieces—I ran for protection into Mr. Bond's house—the prisoner followed me but I locked the door, and I heard him say, "Let me get to him, I will murder him"—assistance came, and he was taken in custody—I have been under medical treatment ever since; my eye was swollen up, I was bruised all over the body, and injured internally, and was recommended by our chief surgeon for leave—there were wounds all over my head—I have a warrant against the others, but have not been able to apprehended them—I know the prisoner well by sight, he if the man.

FREDERICK BARKER . I keep the Maypole beer house, Brockley Lane, Deptford—on this afternoon the prisoner and his mates were drinking there—one of them wanted me to trust him with half a gallon of beer—I refused, and told them they had had enough—I went to the door, called Bridge, and told him what had occurred—the prisoner followed Bridge and struck him—I did not see what they did, because my wife shut the door and pulled the blinds down—a minute or two afterwards I looked from the window in my back yard, and a man not in custody had got the policeman's staff—he said, "Fred, help to get my staff," which I did, and we put them out of the yard—one of them got Bridge by the hair, and pulled him down in the coal shed and misused him—I kept one out at the gate, and one struck me—I saw the policeman kicked while on the ground, not by the prisoner, but by the others—I never saw the prisoner after he struck the first time—there were five altogether—I know one by sight—the constable was in a dreadful state.

COURT. Q. Did you see the end of it? A. No, I went to get assistance—Bridge was in the coal-cellar in the yard when I left, and two men had got him down—the prisoner was not there at the time I was there, it was two others who are at large, but I saw him knock Bridge down.

Prisoner. Q. Was I in company with those people? A. You were sitting in the parlour—you were one of their companions, but you were not sitting with them then—the one who is at large is the one who caused the row—you were not with them when they insulted me, you were in the parlour—you came out by yourself—my wife shut the door and pulled the blinds down—I only saw you strike the policeman—I do not know whether you knocked him down.

THOMAS BOND . I live at 1, Foxberry Road, Broekley—I was with

Bridge—the landlord called him, and I went with him to a beer-house—there was a quarrel taking place inside—Bridge asked him to go away, the man inside said, "Who are you?"—he said, "I am a policeman"—and out they came and began to spar up to him—the prisoner was inside at that time—he came out, and I saw him fighting with Bridge—he pulled off his coat, and struck Bridge, who fell against the fence—I did not see Bridge on the ground—a stone was thrown which hit me, and I ran home as I was not going to get into a row—I went into my garden, looked over the fence, saw Bridge running, and said, "Run into my house."

COURT. Q. Was the prisoner amongst them? Yes—he was the first man—I opened my side door and said to the girl, "Let this man in," which she did, and he was all over blood, and so was the prisoner, who followed Bridge up to my back door, and asked me where his murderer was—I said "He has just gone over the fence, if you run round the other way you will catch him,"—he did so and got over two or three of the garden fences to come back again, and two constables called him back and took him into custody.

WILLIAM HOOD . I am a hay binder—I was in the Maypole—the prisoner and four others were there drinking—I saw the landlord at the door, calling the constable, and saw the prisoner hit the policeman first—he and four of them were on him—I shoved one off, and the prisoner picked up a stone and threw at me—I went for help, came back when it was over, and saw the prisoner in custody.

Prisoner. You saw nothing of it. Witness. There are plenty of witnesses to prove I was there—I did not tell you I was brought down as a witness, but that I saw nothing of it.

JOHN HAYMAN (Policeman P 74) I was at home off duty, and was sent for to the Maypole—I saw Bridge there; blood was flowing from his ears—the prisoner was on top of Mr. Bond's fence, at the rear of the house—he was pointed out to me and I took him in custody—he had been drinking, but knew very well what he was doing.

Prisoner's Defence. When the fifth half-gallon of beer came, I would not take any more. This man's beer shop was on my way home, and a bricklayer called me in; he and I went out half an hour afterwards, hearing a row. I was so drunk I could hardly see. The policeman came up and said, "Here is another blackguard," and struck me on the forehead and knocked me on my knees, and then gave me another blow with his staff. I asked for a drink of water, and he said, "Give the blackguard a drink of his blood." I was not the cause of it.

GUILTY Nine Months' Imprisonment .

SURREY CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Keating.

Reference Number: t18680406-394

394. HENRY LEE (27), was indicted for feloniously killing and slaying Robert Foster. He was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.

MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES OSMOND . I keep the Waterman's Arms, in Barham Street, Tooley Street, Bermondsey—the prisoner, who is a carman, was at my house on

the evening of 7th March, with the deceased, Robert Foster, and others—about 7.45 Foster left the house—he was not sober, or drunk; he was three-parts—he had half-a-pint of beer at the bar, and bade me good night—the prisoner was then standing outside the door—Foster had called him a few names; he had not called Foster names—as Foster went out, he shoved Lee in the chest; it was not by accident—he pushed him on one side, and went on—I afterwards saw him lying on the ground—I went and picked him up—he was insensible, and blood was oozing from a wound in the right temple—the prisoner assisted to pick him up—he might have struck his head against a stone step in falling—I afterwards saw him, dead, at Guy's Hospital—before I went to pick him up, Elizabeth Rocket came in, and said to me or the prisoner, "If you had pushed the man a-top of me, I would have had you locked up"—he made no reply.

JOHN BOWLER . I am a wine cooper, in Bar ham Street—on Saturday, 7th March, between 7.30 and 8, I was at my door, and heard someone say, inside the Waterman's Arms, "I want to have nothing to do with you"—I could not tell who said it—within two minutes of hearing that, I saw the deceased lying on the pavement, and the prisoner going into the Waterman's Arms—he came out again within a second, and I said to him, "You have done a nice thing"—he said nothing—I said, "I shall not let you go till I see you safe."

Prisoner. Q. Did you see me shove the man down? A. No; you assisted to carry him to the doctor's—you went into the public-house again with the policeman, and brought out your brother, who was lying there drunk—I did not say, "That is the man, I will swear to him"—I said he looked very much like the man—you are very much alike.

ELIZABETH ROCKET . I am the wife of William Rocket, of 7, Bar ham Street—he is an officer on the railway—on Saturday, 7th March, between 7.30 and 8, I saw the prisoner coming out of the Waterman's Arms—he appeared to attempt to pull off his coat—at that time, I saw Foster come out quickly and pass him—I did not notice him do anything as he passed—he came towards me, followed by the prisoner, who ran behind him and gave him a blow on his shoulders or head, and Foster fell on his face—the prisoner then returned into the public-house—I followed him, and made some remark to the landlord—the prisoner was there—I believe he is the man that gave the blow.

Prisoner. Q. Did you not say, at the inquest, that you could not swear to me exactly? A. I can't say now, positively; I believe you to be the man—when I went into the public house, I said a man had been shoved down outside, and if I had not stepped back very quickly he must have been shoved upon me—I was so dreadfully frightened that I hardly know what I said—I did not see the deceased fall against anything—I had a dog walking by my side, not in my arms.

GEORGE HARSON (Police Sergeant M 9). I took the prisoner into custody on Monday, 9th—I said, "The man you were quarrelling with on Saturday night, at the Waterman's Arms, is now lying insensible at Guy's hospital; I shall have to take you to Bermondsey, for assaulting him"—he said, "It was the man's own fault; I was in the public-house, drinking with my brother and some friends, when the man called me a thief, an interloper, and various other names. I then left the house, and he followed me out, and pushed me, at the door, in my breast. He was in the act of walking away, and I

pushed him in the shoulder, and he went down; I did not think at the time that he was hurt, only drunk."

Prisoner. Q. When I was taken before the Magistrate, did he admit me to bail? A. Yes—while you were out on bail you came continually to the station to inquire how the man was.

GEORGE RAINE . I am house-surgeon at Guy's hospital—the deceased was brought there on 7th March, about ten minutes to eight—he was perfectly insensible, and bleeding from a wound in the temple, and from his ears and nose—he died on the 12th, from a fracture at the base of the skull—it might have been caused either by a blow or fall—a fist would not have caused it.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-395

395. JAMES JERRARD (30), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin, after a previous conviction— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . And,

Reference Number: t18680406-396

396. HENRY SMITH (19) , to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-397

397. MARY ANN FRIDE (20) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. POLAND and M. J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.

WILLIAM BUTCHER . I am barman at the Rose publio-house, Snow's Fields, Bermondsey—on 21st February, soon after 4.30, the prisoner came in for half a quartern of gin, and gave me a bad shilling—I bent it up, and told her it was bad—she said she did not know it—she wanted it back, but I kept it and handed it to the constable, and gave her into custody.

JOSEPH BIRCH (Policeman M 237). The prisoner was given into my custody, with this shilling—she was taken before the Magistrate, remanded, and then discharged.

MARY ANN BIRCHAM . I am the wife of George Bircham, who keeps the Winchester Arms, Southwark—on 13th March, about ten minutes to eight in the evening, the prisoner came for a glass of ale, and gave me a bad shilling—I tried it in the detector, and cracked it across—I gave it to my husband; the prisoner ran away before he could get round to her—she was brought back by the barman, and given into custody.

GEORGE BIRCHAM . My wife gave me the shilling, this is it—the prisoner ran away, and was fetched back by my barman.

JAMES STEVENS . I am barman to last witness—I saw the prisoner run out—I ran after her, and stopped her—I told her she had been passing a counterfeit shilling—she said she did not know it was bad—I took her back, and she was given into custody, with the shilling.

THOMAS WOOLFE (Policeman M 154). I received charge of the prisoner, with the shilling.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—these shillings are both bad.

GUILTY . She further PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction for a like offence, in April, 1867.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-398

398. GEORGE COLEMAN (22) , for a like offence.

EMMA WICHELO . I am the wife of Holland Thomas Wichelo, cheesemonger, of Abbey Street, Bermondsey—on 4th March, between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon, I served the prisoner with a quarter of a lb. of cheese, which came to 21/2d.—he gave me a florin, I gave him change, and at the same time put the florin in the test and bent it—the prisoner took up the change and was going out of the shop—I called out to him to stop, that

it was bad—he went on, and I ran ronnd the counter, and said, "Stop, this is bad"—he began to run—he was brought back in custody—I marked the florin and gave it to the constable.

WILLIAM LINUS . I am a currier, of 30, West Street—I was near Wichelo's shop—I saw the prisoner come out, and saw Mrs. Wichelo come out, calling "Stop, stop, this is bad"—the prisoner turned round, as if to see whether there was anyone about, and then went on rather quickly, and then commenced running—I ran after him and stopped him—he said, "What do you want with met"—I said, "You have passed a bad two shilling piece, and I shall take you back to the shop"—I was going to lay hold of him, but he struck me in the face and knocked me down, and got away—I pursued him a second time, he was stopped after I had followed him about 200 yards—a man got hold of the collar of his coat—he struggled and we all three fell, and he got away again, after butting me three or four times in the mouth with his head, and loosening my tooth—I called out to a number of men to assist me, and said I was a special constable, as I was, but they would not—they said they hoped he would get away because he was a plucky one—I pursued him again for 300 or 400 yards, and then from exhaustion he had to give in—I got up to him, two constables came, and he was taken into custody—I sat down on a door step exhausted, and I saw a motion of the prisoner's arm, like throwing something away—I did not see anything fall from his hand, but I heard the sound of money.

FRANCIS McSHERRY (Policeman M 132). On 4th March, I saw the prisoner running, and several persons after him, crying "Stop thief"—I followed, and when I came close to him he stopped—the last witness came up immediately after, but was so exhausted he was not able to speak—I told the prisoner I should detain him and see what he was wanted for—when Linus was able to speak he said he had passed a bad two shilling piece in a house in High Street—the prisoner put his hand in his trousers pocket and threw away several pieces, some coppers and four white pieces, similar to this in size—some boys came up and ran away with them, and nothing was left but 31/2d. in coppers—there were a good many people about, close upon 100—I took the prisoner back to the shop, and received this florin from Mrs. Wichelo—I found two penny-pieces on the prisoner at the station.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a bad florin.

WILLIAM BOXEY . I work in a hop ground—on this afternoon I was standing in Church Street, and saw a number of people running after the prisoner, and calling "Stop thief"—I held him till the policeman came up—I saw him put his hand in his pocket and pull out some money—there were three or four white pieces and some copper—I don't know what became of them.

Prisoner's Defence. All the money I had in my possession was 21/2d. and the money I took in change. I believe that boy picked up the silver.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-399

399. THOMAS GILL (21), and WILLIAM JOHNSON (35) , For a like offence.

GILL PLEADED GUILTY .— Eight Months' Imprisonment .

MESSRS. POLAND and M. J. O' CONNELL conducted the Prosecution; and

MR. PATER defended Johnson.

JAMES WARNER . I keep the Railway Castle beer house, Lower Norwood—on 4th March, Johnson came in for a glass of porter, and crave me 6d.—I

gave him 5d. change—he then took up the paper to read—I saw Gill about a minute after—I went to have my tea, and my wife took my place—she brought me a half crown, I fancied it was bad, and went after the prisoners—they had just left—I found Johnson about half a mile off, inside the Tulse Hill Hotel, with a glass of porter, and Gill waiting outside the door—being a special constable, I told Johnson I should take him into custody for being concerned with Gill in passing a bad half-crown at my house just previous—he said he knew nothing of it, I could search him—I saw him pay a shilling at the hotel, that was examined and found to be good—I gave both the prisoners in charge to a constable—I put the half-crown into the test and melted it; it was bad—I gave it to the sergeant of the station—my brother took Gill into custody.

Cross-examined. Q. What time was this? A. About 6 in the evening—when I accused Johnson, he said to the barman at the hotel, "See that the money you have got is good," and he examined it.

FREDERICK WILLIAM WARNER . I am the brother of last witness—I was there on 4th March—I saw the prisoners together previous to their coming into the house, on the opposite side of the way, about fifty yards off—they were coming along the path, side by side—I was in the house when they came in—Johnson came in first, and Gill shortly after—I saw him give Mrs. Warner a half-crown, she gave him change, and they went out together—I looked at the half-crown, it was bad—I then followed the prisoners and then took Gill into custody—he dropped a half-crown, which I picked up and found to be bad—I gave it to the constable—in going to the station, I noticed that Johnson walked very slowly, and I said to Gill, "What is the matter with your mate?" and he said "He has got a bad foot."

MARGARET LOUISA WARNER . I am the wife of James Warner—on 4th March I saw the prisoner—I served Gill with a glass of ale, and a screw of tobacco—he gave me a half-crown, and I gave him the change, and put the half-crown in the till—after they had gone my brother-in-law spoke to me, and I took the half-crown out—there was no other there—I gave it to my husband, and he went after the prisoners.

WILLIAM PEPPER (Policeman W 62) I took the prisoners—I produce the half crown I received from Mr. Warner, and another that I received from his brother—I found on Johnson 6s. in silver, and 3d. in copper—it was afterwards given up to him—there were three or four shillings, three sixpences, four three penny pieces, and some copper, I also found a small box containing mercury—on Gill I found a good florin.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These half-crowns are both bad.

Johnson's statement before the Magistrate:—"I never saw Gill before I saw him in custody." JOHNSON— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18680406-400

400. WILLIAM McLAREN (38), was indicted for a like offence.

MESSRS. POLAND and M. J. O'CONNELL conducted that Prosecution; and

MR. PATER the Defence.

JESSE BUTLAND . I keep the Goldbeater's Arms, Peckham—on 20th March the prisoner came for a glass of ale, and gave me sixpence—I gave him four pence-halfpenny change—about five or six minutes after he left I found the sixpence was bad—I put it in the fire and it melted—I am sure the prisoner is the man—he was in the house ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I picked him out from about seventy at the prison three or four days afterwards.

Cross-examined. Q. Was anyone serving beside yourself? A. No—the prisoner was a stranger—there was nothing to make me notice him—there were a good many people there at the time.

SARAH MATILDA MANN . I live at the Greyhound public-house, High Street, Peckham—on 20th March, about 4.45, I served the prisoner with a glass of ale—he gave me a bad sixpence—I told him it was bad, and called my master—the prisoner ran out of the house—my master went after him—about five minutes afterwards I was sent for to the Jolly Gardeners, and found the prisoner there in custody—I gave the sixpence to the constable.

Cross-examined. Q. I suppose there were other customers there? A. No, not any—I keep the Greyhound.

SAMUEL GERARD . Miss Mann called me, and I went after the prisoner—I found him at the Jolly Gardeners—I accused him of having been into the Greyhound, and passing a bad sixpence—he said he had not been into my house that day, and did not know where the Greyhound was—I sent for Miss Mann, and she said that he was the man—I took him to the station—he begged me to forgive him—I said I could not, for I had taken about 11s. 6d. bad coin within a fortnight—he said he was very sorry; he knew the sixpence was bad, but he had a wife and family, and would go on his knees if I would forgive him.

WILLIAM FINCH (Policeman P 196). I took the prisoner, and received this sixpence.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This sixpence is bad.

GUILTY .— Nine Months'-Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-401

401. JOHN BROOKS (31), and WILLIAM JONES (16) , for a like offence— BROOKS PLEADED GUILTY .

MESSRS. POLAND and M. J. O' CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.

CHARLES HENLEY . I am a grocer, at 28, Elam Street—on Saturday night, 14th March, about 9.30, Brooks came for a pennyworth of tobacco, and gave me a sixpence in payment—I gave him change—I saw the sixpence was bad, and left it on the counter—I saw Jones outside, near the door, looking in at the window—the moment Brooks went out, I gave directions to my wife to go after them—I afterwards gave the sixpence to the sergeant.

ANN MARGARET HENRY . I am the wife of last witness—on Saturday, 14th March, from what my husband said to me, I followed Brooks—he was just outside the door—Jones joined him—I followed them to Mrs. Colley's fish shop, in Grange Road, some minutes' walk from our shop—they walked the best part of the way together—Jones went in, and when he came out I went in and asked Mrs. Colley what he had given her—Jones joined Brooks again, and they went some distance—Jones then went into Mrs. Barney's; Brooks waited outside—they then went down a very dark place—Brooks then went into a general shop—I saw a policeman there, and gave them into custody—I saw Brooks drop some money from his hand on the floor of the shop, and it was found to be a bad shilling.

ALICE COLLEY . I am the wife of Henry Colley, who keeps a fish shop, in Grange Road, Bermondsey—on 14th March, between 9.30 and 10, Jones came in for a halfpennyworth of fish, and gave me a bad sixpence—I bit it, and told him it was bad—he said, "Give it me back, I can get it changed"—he

then gave me a good sixpence—Mr. Coombes came in while he was there, and he bit it, and gave it him back.

GEORGE COOMBES . I saw Jones at Mrs. Colley's—I took the sixpence from him, and bent it with my fingers—I gave it him back, and told him it was bad—he said he took it on Saturday night with some more money, and he would get it changed on Monday.

EMILY ELIZABETH BARNEY . I am the daughter of George Barney, who keeps a sweet shop, in Queen's Road, Bermondsey—on 14th March, near 10 o'clock at night, Jones came in, and I served him with a penny worth of almond rock—he gave me sixpence—I tried it with my teeth and found it was bad—I gave it him back, and told him it was bad—he said his master had given it to him, and he should get it replaced on Monday—he paid me with a good sixpence, and left—Mrs. Henley came in directly after.

WILLIAM BEAVING (Policeman A R 344). Mrs. Henley gave Jones into my custody, about twenty yards from a general shop—I took him inside the shop, and searched him—he said, "You will find nothing bad on me"—I found on him a shilling and sixpence, three fourpenny pieces, and elevenpence in copper, all good money, and some almond rock.

WILLIAM QUIGLEY (Police Sergeant M 7). I took Brooks into custody in the general shop—while searching him, he gave me a good shilling; and, at the same time, I heard something fall on his left side, and found a bad shilling—I said, "Look here, this is bad"—he made no reply—I received this sixpence from Mrs. Henley.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling and sixpence are bad.

Brooks. I can clear the boy.

Jones's Defence. I wish to call Brooks.

John Brooks (the Prisoner). I have been ten years in America, where I lost ray wife and two children—on 26th January, I came to London from Liverpool—I got into bad company and lost all my money, and had to sell my clothes—I went to live in the Mint, where I knew this boy; and on 14th March I asked him if he would mind coming out with me—he asked what for—I said I would tell him after we got out—I gave him sixpence, and told him to go into the fish-shop; and I gave him a good sixpence at the same time, and told him if they said the other was bad, to get it back and give the good one—after he came out I took it away from him and gave him the other one; the boy is perfectly innocent, it is my fault for leading him astray.

Cross-examined. Q. Is he any relation of yours? A. No, a perfect stranger: we lodged in the same lodging-house two or three days, 24, Mint Street, Boro—it is a common lodging-house, kept by Mr. Evans—this was the first time he ever went out with me—I had been lodging there about a month—he was lodging there the whole time—there are thirty or forty lodgers—I went into the grocer's, in Elam Street, alone—I did not tell the boy to wait outside; he stood there of his own accord—you can see he is very innocent, or he would not have stopped there, looking into the shop—when I gave him the six pence I told him it was bad—when he came out he told me they had found out it was bad; I got the fivepence half-penny change out of the good sixpence—I gave it him back afterwards—I sent him into the sweet-shop, and told him the same as before—when he came out he said they had found out it was bad—he did not give me the change out of that good sixpence; he kept it—I don't know what became of that bad sixpence, I did not have it.

JONES— GUILTY . Six Months' Imprisonment .

BROOKS— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-402

402. GEORGE BROWN (18), JOSEPH SHERWIN (24), and SARAH PARKS (18) , Unlawfully having in their possession nineteen counterfeit shillings, with intent to utter the same.

MESSRS. POLAND and M. J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.

MARY ANN JOHNSON . I am the wife of John Frederick Johnson, of High Street, Peckham—on 21st March, about 4 o'clock, Brown came in for a cake, and gave me a bad shilling; I bent it, returned it to him, and told him it was bad—he said it was the first he had, and that it was a bad afternoon's work for him—he had a herring-box.

Brown. I was not there. Witness. I am sure he is the man, I saw him again at the station the same evening, with five or six others, and picked him out.

ROBERT WEBB (Policeman P 6). On Saturday afternoon, 1st March, I was in private clothes, at the Duke of Edinburgh beer-house, Shads Road, Peckham, about 300 yards from Mr. Johnson's—Brown came in for half-apint of beer, and threw down a bad shilling—the landlady handed it to me; I found it was bad, and asked him how many more he had of that sort about him?—he said, "No more"—I searched him and found fivepence in coppers and a good sixpence—I asked why he attempted to pass a shilling when he had coppers—he said he never liked to carry silver about—I broke the shilling in halves and threw it on the floor, he picked it up, and walked out—I watched him, he went down Meeting House Lane and joined Parks, took something from his pocket and gave it to her, and they walked on to where Sherwin was standing, and joined him—they walked together into the Asylum Road, Parks took something from her pocket and gave to Sherwin, who handed it to Brown, and he left them and went into George Street—Sherwin and Parks went down the Asylum Road into the Kent Road, where they all joined together, and went towards London—I got the assistance of Smith, and we stopped them—I laid hold of the two men, one in each hand, and Smith stood in front of Parks; I saw her hand at her pocket, fumbling about; I put my hand down and said, "Give me that bad money you have here"—I took from her hand nineteen bad shillings wrapped in tissue paper, in two packets—they were all three taken to the station—Parks said that the two men came for her in the morning to go out with them and carry the bad money, and they went and got it changed, and brought her back the good—I found nothing on Brown—I asked him what he had done with the bad shilling he had picked up—he said, "I suppose you will find it about me somewhere"—I searched him and could not find it, and he said, "I suppose I have lost it"—I did not find any good money—he had a box with about a dozen herrings, which he threw away when I apprehended him.

CHARLES SMITH (Policeman M 251). I assisted in taking the prisoners—I saw Parks put her hand to her pocket; the sergeant seized her hand, and I saw two packets of coin taken from her—on the way to the station she said, "I am sorry I done it," and asked whether I thought she would get any imprisonment—I said, "I don't know: is either of them your husband?"—she said, "No; they asked me to come out for a walk with them: what will my mother say!"

MARIA HOLLOWAY . I am a searcher at the station—I searched Parks—she had this basket, and I found three half-ounces of tobacco, two purses,

3s. 71/2d. in copper, a bad sixpence, and a threepenny piece—she said the two men had hired her for the day to carry the bad money, and as they passed the bad they brought her the good; she was sorry she had done it, but had no work at the time, and therefore she took the opportunity of going out with them—the two other prisoners were not present then.

Parks. I never said that I was hired for the day, nor that they gave me the bad money, and I returned the good; you said so, and I never answered.

Witness. I am sure you did.

ROBERT COE (Policeman 297). I was at the station when the three prisoners were locked up—there were no other people in the cells—one of the men called to the woman, "Do not cry, you must swear that you picked it up, and gave the shilling to me to see if it was good; you must stick to it, that, you never saw us, and that we never saw you till that evening"—she said, "Will my mother go to your house, Joe?"—one of them said, "I have given no address"—Parks said, "No more have I; we were fools we did not sling it over the bridge."

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These nineteen shillings are bad.

Brown's Defence:—I picked up the money, and met the young lady, and gave it to her to hold. I took one out, and went to change it. I was going to find a policeman, and give them up. Sherwin knows nothing about it, nor Parks; it was only me that changed it.

GUILTY .

BROWN— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment .

SHERWIN— Nine Months' Imprisonment .

PARKS— Six Months' Imprisonment .

Reference Number: t18680406-403

403. HENRY WALKINSHAW (18), and JOSHUA BALAAM (19) , Robbery on Henry Richard Powell, and stealing from his person a watch, his property. . MR. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution

HENRY RICHARD POWELL . I live at No, 6, Havelock Terrace, Peckham, and am the son of the Rev. Thomas Powell—I am thirteen years of age—on 23rd March, in the afternoon, about 5.30, I was walking along the Old Kent Road; the prisoner Walkinshaw met me, and shoved me, and put his sleeve against my eye—I then felt his hand in my pocket, and on looking directly found my guard hanging down, and missed my silver watch—I am sure it was safe before—Balaam followed after Walkinshaw—I gave Walkinshaw into custody.

HENRY SHOPPURCH (Policeman P 120). I received information, and took the prisoners—on the way to the station Balaam said, "If you have stolen the young gentleman's watch give it up to him."

CHARLES PRATT . I live at Peckham—I saw Walkinshaw cross the road and Balaam follow—Balaam put the watch into his pocket.

Walkinshaw. Q. Do you know Balaam? A. I never saw him before.

Balaam. Q. Did I not say "If you have got the watch you had better give it up," and did not he say "I have not got it and will give you leave to search me?" A. You did say that, but I saw you put the watch into your own pocket—I saw the ring on the side of the watch.

EDWARD WATTS . I live at 4, Cooper's Terrace, Peckham—I was with the last witness—I saw the prisoners cross the road—Walkinshaw pushed against the gentleman, and took his watch—Balaam was behind—I was standing on the opposite side of the way.

Walkinshaw. Q. Where did you see the watch. A. In your hand—it was a silver one—I did not say I saw the face of the watch—I saw the ring.

COURT. Q. Have yon ever been in trouble? A. No—I was never in a Court before.

Balaam's Defence:—I went ont with a friend, and was returning home, and hearing that a watch had been stolen, went after the thief, and was taken into custody.

GUILTY .

WALKINSHAW.†— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .

BALAAM.— Six Months' Imprisonment .

Before Mr. Commissioner Kerr.

Reference Number: t18680406-404

404. STEPHEN MURPHY , and AGNES MURPHY (42) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Eliza Robbins, and stealing therein eight silver spoons, and other articles, her property.

MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.

ELIZA ROBBINS . I am single, and live at Brent Terrace, Hendon—on Sunday, 11th March, I went out about 6 o'clock in the evening, and left everything safe—I returned about 8.5 and found the house had been broken into—I missed about 30l. in gold and silver, two silver watches, a silver dollar of William the Third, and eight silver spoons, six marked E. R., and two others—the money was in a box which had been broken open with a jemmy—a jemmy was found lying on the bed—I believe the house was entered by a key—the spoons, watches, and the dollar produced are my property.

WILLIAM POUND (Policeman P 10). On 10th March, I went to 49, County Terrace, New Kent Road—I went to the top front room, where I found the prisoners—I said to the man "Have yon received a watch stolen from the Crystal Palace on the 2nd?"—he said "No"—I said, "Have you any watches in this room?"—he said, "None, that I know of"—I said, "I shall search the room"—I searched at the top of a cupboard and found a silver watch—I said, "How do you account for the possession of this?"—he said, "I know nothing about it; mind, whatever you find here I know nothing about, as I have only been in the place an hour and a half"—I then turned up the mattress, and found eight silver spoons, about twenty duplicates for watches, and sixteen for other things—he said, "I know nothing about anything in this room"—in the washing-stand drawer I found a silver buckle, and a card-case—Sergeant Ham went with me—I saw him take the washing-basin out of the woman's hands—I heard her say something about being the man's wife—I remember a dollar and a watch being found in the basin by Sergeant Ham—the woman said something about Ham putting it in the basin, and the man then said, "Don't tell lies, they have not been near the place."

Cross-examined. Q. Have they lived together as man and wife? A. I believe they have—I don't know that they have not—I have known the man some time—she said, "Good bye, you will get legged for this, and we most put up with it."

JAMES HAM (Police Sergeant P). I accompanied Pound to 49, County Terrace—he told the man we were two police sergeants, and asked if he had received a watch which was stolen from the Crystal Palace on the 2nd—he said, "No"—he said, "Have you any watches in the place?"—the prisoner said, "No"—as we were going to search the place, the male prisoner said, "Now mind, whatever you find in this room I know nothing about, I have only been here an hour and a half, and only came to see this woman"—Sergeant Pound lifted the mattress, and I saw him take these spoons from there—he

then turned to the man and asked how he came possessed of them—he said he knew nothing about them—I then turned to the woman and said, "You have heard what the man has said, how do you account for the possession of them?"—she said, "I know nothing about them"—she then went to the man and kissed him, and said, "You will get legged for this, and we must put up with it"—she then asked me to allow her to go and wash her hands, which I did—the washing-stand stood in one corner of the room, at the side of the bed—I saw her fumbling her hand about her dress, casting her head round to see if I and Pound were looking at her—she then put her hands in the basin, and I heard something jink—after she dipped her hands in the water I gave her a cloth to wipe them—she then took the basin from the stand and walked backwards towards me—I had then got my back against the door—she was just going to empty it, when I said, "Stop a moment, you have got something in that basin"—I put my hand in the water, and took out this dollar piece, half a silver spoon, and two pieces of silver chain—she said, "Good God! do not say I put them there, you must have done it yourself"—the man said, "Do not tell lies, they have not been near the place."

Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that they have been living together as man and wife? A. I do not—I had been watching the man about eight weeks—he has got two lodgings, and we followed him backwards and forwards—I do not know the woman at all.

STEPHEN MURPHY— GUILTY .

MR. WILLIAMS, for Agnes Murphy, proposed to call the prisoner just convicted, and THE COURT considered that he was a competent witness.

STEPHEN MURPHY . I was married on 19th June, 1854, at St. Giles's-in-the-Fields, to Agnes Duffy, the female prisoner—this is a copy of the certificate, with my signature, "Francis Morris," to it. (Upon MR. PATER'S objecting to this evidence as that of a husband in favour of his wife, THE COURT rejected it.)

ELIZABETH MORRIS . The male prisoner is my son—his name is Francis Morris—I know the female prisoner as his wife—they have lived together, to my knowledge, as man and wife.

COURT. Q. Were you present at the marriage? A. No.

AGNES MURPHY— NOT GUILTY .

There were eight other indictments against the prisoners, to which STEPHEN MURPHY PLEADED GUILTY.**— Fourteen Years' Penal Servitude .

MR. PATER offered no evidence against Agnes Murphy.—NOT GUILTY.

Reference Number: t18680406-405

405. PATRICK KILTY, (17) and JAMES MASON (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Robert Snook, and stealing therein two necklaces, and other articles, his property.

MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.

ROBERT BERKLEY SEYMOUR SNOOK . I live with my father, an engineer, at 9, New Street, Rotherhithe—on Thursday morning, 26th March, I was sleeping in the house, which was not quite finished; only a few articles were brought in—I was awoke about 6.30 or 6.45, and saw the prisoners in my room, standing by the drawers—the furniture was all in the room where I was, but there were some tools downstairs—I asked them what they were doing there—they said they had only been having a sleep downstairs—I said that they had better slope, and they went out and slammed the door—I dressed and went down, but could see nothing of them—I sent my brother,

who was sleeping in the house with me, for my father—I missed two tumblers, two wine-glasses, a jet necklace, and a coral necklace, belonging to my father—they had been in the tumblers downstairs—I saw them safe about 10 o'clock the night before—I fastened the house up before I went to bed.

Kilty. He said, at the station, that I was something like the other. Witness. I said, "There is one, and that is the other."

Mason. I never was in the house, and do not know where it is. Witness I an sure you are the man.

JOSEPH BIRCH (Policeman N 237). I received information last Friday week, and on the Saturday, about 12 o'clock, met the prisoners together in Blue Anchor Road, Bermondsey—I told them I should take them on suspicion of breaking into a house in Rotherhithe New Road, and charged them with stealing two necklaces and some tumblers—I took them to the station, and found this knife on Mason—I saw the prisoners together on the morning of the robbery, about 6.45, coming in the direction of the house, and very nearly a quarter of a mile from it.

Kilty. We were not coming from the direction of the house, but from Blue Anchor Road.

NOT GUILTY .

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18680406-406

406. WILLIAM COCKRANE (19), and WILLIAM SMITH (19) , Robbery on John Gottlieb Ulrick, and stealing from his person one watch and one pocket-book, his property.

MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.

JOHN GOTTLIEB ULRICK . I am a watchmaker, of 50, Sidney Street, Stepney—on the morning of 2nd April, at 12.45, I was in Wellington Street, London Bridge, returning from my daughter's—I was quite sober—when I had passed the steps leading to the church in Wellington Street, I was suddenly seized from behind by the neck, not with violence, but I was thrown down with much violence—I did not see who seized me—I struggled to get up, and in the struggle I saw Cockrane holding my throat, and Smith in front of me, pulling my coat open and rifling my pockets—I had in my left breast pocket some extraordinarily particular documents connected with the House of Commons, which I grieve most particularly about—I also lost a pocket-book and a watch—Smith took the things, Cockrane simply got hold of me—no further violence was used to me—Smith said something, and they immediately got up and left me, and when I heard his voice again I recognized it—Elizabeth Powell and a young man then approached me from the other side, and the prisoners quickly got up and ran away—I saw that it was futile to run after them, and Eliza Powell and a young man assisted us over London Bridge—a cabman drove up and said something—I got into his cab, and he drove me to where I found the prisoners in custody—they were as near as possible at the corner of St. Thomas' Street, Borough—I had seen their faces by the gas lamp—Cockrane had a plaid scarf round his neck.

Cockrane. You could not recognise me when you drove up; you said, "I think it is he, because he has got a plaid scarf on." Witness. I do not remember saying the word "think"—I hesitated a moment to get a full view of your faces; if I had had the slightest doubt I would have given you the benefit of it.

Smith. Q. Did I say "Let me stand by myself, just to see if he will recognize me?" A. Yes—I said that I could not recognize you; but when you spoke I was satisfied you were the man.

ELIZABETH POWELL . I am single, and live at 1, Ford's Place, Battersea—on 2nd April, about 12.45 in the morning, I was in Wellington Street, and saw Cockrane take hold of Mr. Ulrick and pull him backwards on the stones;—while he was holding him Smith pulled his coat open and rifled his pockets—when they saw me running across the road they both ran, and Cockrane had a black and white scarf on—it lasted a very few seconds—a man that was standing in the middle of the road gave a signal, I think, and one ran under the railway arch, and the other two in the other direction—that is near the Borough Market—I am sure of Cockrane more than I am of Smith, as the light shone so bright in his face; and I firmly believe Smith to be the other—I went up to Mr. Ulrick, who was lying on his back on the pavement and seemed exhausted—he could not speak for a minute—he afterwards walked with me a little way—a cab drove up—I got into it, and drove to the station, where I saw the prisoners; but I had seen them in custody, in Thames Street, outside a public-house.

Cockrane. When I came up to the cab your friend was in the cab; the policeman said, "Are these the two?" you said to your friend, "I think that is one, by his scarf;" and you said, "I can't recognize him." Witness. That is false.

Smith. Q. You did not recognize me at the cab? A. Yes I did; but not so well as I did the other—I firmly believe you to be the other party—I said the other one was half a head taller than either of you—that is the one that ran away—Ulrick is no friend of mine—I was going home by myself, and went to his assistance—I did not say it was my husband before the Magistrate—I never had a husband—I did not say at the cab, me and my friend were talking together.

DANIEL THORNTON . I am a cab driver, of 1, Saunders Street, Lambeth Walk—on 2nd April, about 12.45, I was standing near St. Saviour's Church, and heard a man's voice in distress—I turned and saw Ulrick on the ground, and the prisoner and another one roughly handling him—Cockrane had hold of him behind, and Smith in front—after they had got what they wanted, they tripped him up, and ran away—they threw him on the ground after they had got what they wanted—one of them took the South-Eastern Line, and the other went in the direction of St. George's Church—Cockrane went into a public-house, at the corner of York Street, Borough Market—Smith was on the other side, St. Thomas' Street side—I followed with my cab—I lost sight of Smith for a minute or two; but never lost sight of Cockrane—I drove up to the door of the public-house, but did not like to leave my horse to go in—I saw Cockrane come out—Smith was then standing on the other side of the road; and he whistled to Cockrane, who crossed the road and joined him directly—Burcher, the constable, was a few yards off—I made a communication to him, and with assistance he took the prisoners—I went back to fetch the old man and the girl—it was the man who is not here who took the South-Eastern Line—the public-house Cockrane went into is about 100 yards from where Ulrick was assaulted.

Cockrane. When I came up to the cab, you said you could not recognize either of us. Witness. I did not.

Smith. When I came up to the cab, you could not recognize me. Witness. I did not say so—I lost sight of you for a moment or two, but not

of Cockrane—I did not say, at the police-court, that I would not swear to you—I had my cab, and there was no traffic about—I kept my eye on you both till you separated.

WILLIAM BURCHER (Policeman M 326). I was on duty near this public-house at 12.40, and Thornton pointed out the prisoner to me, walking towards St. George's Church—I ran behind a van, and went on the pavement, took hold of Cockrane, and called another constable, who took Smith—Cockrane said, "What do you want of me; what have I done?"—I said, "Come back with me, you will see what you have done?"—he said, "I have just come out of the public-house opposite—I took him back towards London Bridge, and met the cab with Ulrick and the girl inside—they positively identified Cockrane, who said, "I am innocent; I have done nothing; it was not me at all—he was charged at the station, and still said that he was not guilty.

HERBERT ROLIN (Policeman M 227). I took Smith after he had run ten or fifteen yards—he said that he would come back with us—I took him up to the cab, and the young woman said she was not so sure about him as about Cockrane; but she would swear to Cockrane because of his plaid scarf.

Smith's Defence. I had to go to a friend's house near Blackfriars Bridge. I met another young man, and afterwards met this prisoner in the Borough Market. We walked across the road, and the policeman took him in custody. The cab drove up, and the female looked at me and said, "No, I cannot recognize his features;" and the man said so two or three times.

GUILTY .*

They were both further charged with having been before convicted at this Court, Cockrane, in the name of Pearl; in April, 1866, and Smith in June, 1867, to which they PLEADED GUILTY.— Twenty-five Lashes with the Cat; and Ten Tears' Penal Servitude each .

The following Prisoners PLEADED GUILTY before Mr. Recorder in the Fourth Court on Wednesday.

Reference Number: t18680406-407

407. GEORGE BAKER (19) and JAMES PRITCHARD (20) , to feloniously breaking and entering the warehouse of Isaac Stiebel, and stealing goods; also feloniously entering the warehouse of Morris Bauer, and stealing goods.— Six Months Imprisonment each . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-408

408. THOMAS WHITBY (18) , to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Henry Burlington, and stealing eleven silver spoons.— Nine Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-409

409. THOMAS SMITH, alias CARTER (20) , to stealing a coat of John Pyke, having been previously convicted.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-410

410. WILLIAM THOMAS (20), to breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Tilley, and stealing various articles.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . And, [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18680406-411

411. SAMUEL READ (19) , to stealing 9s. 9d. and 9s. 7d., the moneys of Henry Dennis.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

The Court was adjourned until 20th April, for the trial of the Fenian prisoners.

OLD COURT.—Monday April 20th, 1868; and following days.

Before the Lord Chief Justice Cockburn (with Mr. Baron Bramwell).

Reference Number: t18680406-412

412. WILLIAM DESMOND (38), TIMOTHY DESMOND (46), NICHOLAS ENGLISH (46), JOHN O'KEEFE (25), MICHAEL BARRETT (27), alias Jackson , and ANNE JUSTICE (22) , were indicted for the wilful murder of Anne Hodgkinson; O'KEEFE and JUSTICE were also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.

THE ATTORNEY GENERAL, THE SOLICITOR GENERAL, MR. GIFFARD , Q.C., MR. POLAND and MR. ARCHIBALD conducted the Prosecution; MR. WARNER SLEIGH appeared for Wm. Desmond, MR. STRAIGHT for Timothy Desmond, MR. KEOGH for English, MR. M. WILLIAMS for O'Keefe and Justice, and MR. BAKER GREENE for Barrett.

JOHN BUTLER . I am a surveyor—I have made a model of the House of Detention at Clerkenwell and the surrounding neighbourhood—(produced)—it is accurate, and shows the part of the wall blown down—the width of Corporation Lane is 24 feet from the houses to the prison wall—I saw the houses that were blown down, or so much shattered as to be dangerous; they were taken down soon after the occurrence—the roof of the house most damaged was partly blown off—the floors were very much injured indeed—that was No. 3a—ten other houses were more or less injured—No. 2 was very badly shattered—so much so as to be unsafe—of Nos. 4, 5, 6, and 7, the windows and doors were blown in—and the houses were rendered otherwise dangerous—the windows of Nos. 1, 3, 1a and 2a were blown in—and the houses were very seriously damaged—the windows of other houses were also blown in, and the sides and roofs damaged.

GEORGE RICHARDSON .—On the afternoon of the 13th December, after the explosion, I assisted in taking the bodies out of the ruins—I took out the body of a female from the ruins of No. 3a—I found it on the 1st floor at ten minutes or a quarter to four—that was about five minutes after the explosion—she was dead when I found her—I removed the body for a time into the prison yard, I afterwards took it to Bartholomew's Hospital—I did not find the body of any other female in the house—I did not know the person myself.

EDITH BRIGHT .—I am the wife of Wm. Bright, and the sister of Sarah Ann Hodgkinson, who lived at 3a Corporation Lane—in consequence of what I heard on the day of the explosion, I went to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, and found her dead body there.

EDWARD M'LEAN , M.R.C.S.—I am one of the house-surgeons of St. Bartholomew's Hospital—on the 13th December the body of Sarah Ann Hodgkinson was brought in—I examined it—it had a cut on the neck, extending in front of the right ear to the cheek—the scalp was cut with glass—the right sub-clavian vein was cut, and she had a clot of blood in her windpipe—she died partly from hoemorrhage and partly from suffocation.

PATRICK MULLANY (in custody).—I am a military tailor—before my arrest I was living at 20, Sherwood Street, Golden Square—I carried on business as a tailor there, and did not work out—I lived on the first floor—the house consisted of four rooms—my shop was the front room—I had the room behind as well—from the staircase you could go into the back room, without going into the shop—there are two doors, one leading into

the front room and the other into the back room—if you want to go into the back room it is not necessary to go into the shop—I understand that I am in custody on a charge of treason-felony—I have been about six years in London, and during that time I have been a tailor—I am a member of a combination called the Fenian Brotherhood—I was sworn in about 15 or 16 months ago, in the Teetotal Hall, Pollen Street, Maddox Street, Hanover Square—the objects of the Fenian Brotherhood are to establish a republie in Ireland, and to overthrow English rule there—at the time I was sworn in, the prisoner English was there—he introduced me to a man named James Kelly—I was sworn in as a centre—the centre is supposed to have nine B's under him, and each B has nine men.

COURT. Q. Is B a brother? A. That is what they term it—at the time I was sworn in, Kelly and Daniel O'Keefe were there—not the prisoner—Maurice O'Connor, Kennedy, John Donovan—

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. Who else do you recollect? A. I think Jeremiah Murphy was there—there might be a dozen there—I had been introduced the night before that by English to James Kelly—when English introduced me, he said I was a very decent fellow, and fit to be a centre—on the second occasion, when I was sworn in, English was there—we were all sworn together—Kelly said the oath, and we repeated it after him—William Desmond was not present—the conversation was principally how they conveyed men to Ireland, it was the time of the rising in Ireland and it was about the best means of raising money to seud men into the volunteers, and to get arms—I had known English since about 1865, he is a tailor—William Desmond I had known about the same time, he is a shoemaker or bootmaker—I also knew Timothy Desmond and O'Keefe—I first met the latter in the Thirteen Cantons, at the corner of Seymour Street and Pulteney Street—Burke I had known since about April, 1867, after the rising—I was a centre before that—I had no place to meet Burke, he used to call at my place—he was a Fenian, an American officer, as I understood—he was first introduced to me by the name of Winslow; but afterwards I was told not to call him Winslow but Brown, and after that I knew him by the name of Burke—I afterwards heard of Burke being arrested, and after that I saw Barrett at my house—that might be a fortnight or more before the explosion—he and a man called Captain Murphy came to my house, one morning about ten o'clock—I knew Captain Murphy before—he was a supposed captain in the American army, and took a great part in the Fenian movement—as I was dressing to go out for orders, Murphy came and shook hands with me, and he introduced Barrett by the name of Jackson—he told me he had eight revolvers in the bag, and he was come to do something for poor Burke—he opened the bag; I saw some powder and caps, but I do not think there were so many as eight revolvers—Murphy went with me to a house where I do business in Hanover Street—I do not wish to mention the name—we then went to Cavanagh's public-house, leading off Hanover Street—I was in the habit of going there; I used to take lunch there—English joined me there—I do not know whether we sent for him—I left them speaking together—I think Barrett was there, but I could not say; neither could I say whether I saw him again that day or not—I saw him again coming down Regent Street, I think the same day—I cannot say how soon I saw him again—I know Felix Fallon—I have seen him at Rice's public-house in

Silver Street, and at my house with Barrett—I did not know where he lived until the time of the explosion—he lived at No. 8, Pulteney Court, near Silver Street—that is no great distance from my house—Barrett lodged with him—Barrett told me they lodged together, and a man named Ryan told me so—when I met him in Rice's, the conversation was all about Burke, and he asked me whether I could give him my interest for a barrel of powder—Felix Fallon asked me at Rice's for my address, to leave a barrel of powder—before anything was said about powder, our conversation was about Burke, and the best way of getting him out—I did not hear anything talked of for a time as to how they were going to get him out; nothing was settled on—Murphy went by the name of Hastings—after I first met Murphy with Barrett, he spent much of his time in my place—he had dinner there occasionally, and went away after dark—Barrett dined there two or three times—Murphy was there at the time—I knew a woman named Berry, or Barry—I first saw her about a day or so after he came to my place—she called to see him—she is a sister of Burke's—Murphy showed me a letter after Berry had left—that letter was referred to afterwards, at a meeting in William Desmond's house—I do not know whether it was that letter—he had several letters, but I only know of that one—after that, he asked me if I would bring him in an ounce of green copperas—I got the green copperas before I saw the letter—I did not read the letter; Murphy read it to me—after that the letter was shown to three or four at William Desmond's—he put some hot water in a teacup, and put the copperas in it, and rubbed it on a board, and the writing came out through the letter, brown and burnt like, and I said, "Captain, what is that?"—the writing had been invisible before—there was some plain writing besides this—the invisible writing came out between the lines—after that I heard something read—Barrett knew of it previously at my house; I saw Murphy show it to him after the copperas was applied—it was shown round before any meeting—at the time it was shown at William Desmond's, there were present English, Murphy, and I think Casey; a brother of Casey—there were twelve or fifteen, or more in the room—it was the Wednesday night before the explosion—there were three marks on the letter—one of the marks was the position of a house at Clerkenwell prison, and the wall is marked—the position of the house is drawn, just marked—another mark was that of the sewer that runs from this public-house—I saw Murphy the morning of the explosion, and I should have seen him that night, only I was arrested.

(MR. WILLIAMS objected to any evidence relating to a document not before the Court. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL stated that he could prove that Murphy had gone to France.)

JAMES THOMPSON . I am an inspector of the Detective force—after the explosion took place, I had orders to look out for Murphy—I have done so, but I have not been able to find him in England—I have made inquiries respecting him, and I ascertained that he went to Paris, that from thence he went to Havre, and then to America.

PATRICK MULLANY (continued). As nearly as I can recollect what was in the letter was this—"Dear Friend, you know my position here; you know how I am situated here; there is a house here called 'The Noted Stout House'"—that is the name of the public-house—"at that house there is a sewer and a weak part of the wall; if you get a barrel of powder and place it there, you will be able to blow the wall to hell. Get the men to buy

it in small quantities, and it must be done at the hour of 3.30 or 4 o'clock; if you do not do that you ought to be shot"—that is all I recollect—there was more of it, but I only recollect that portion of it—there were three marks in the letter—you can see "The Noted Stout House" from the yard where the prisoners are exercised—the other marks are the sewer and the weak part of the wall—it might be that day or the next after I had seen the ink come out, that Murphy showed it to Barrett—after it had been shown to Barrett I met some others at a place called O'Donnell's, or M'Donnell's—it was at a small street off Queen Street, in Holborn—it was at a private room in the top of a house—Barrett went with me, William Desmond was there, a man named Lynch, Felix Fallon, Hayes, and Murphy—Murphy said that if he could not get money, he could not carry out the rescue—the money was to buy powder—some of the men present volunteered to give or get 1l., some 10s., and some 12s.—I cannot tell how long this was before the explosion, but I think it was the same week—arrangements were made that evening to meet in the American Stores, Oxford Street, the next evening—I went there the next evening—the prisoners, William Desmond, English, and Barrett were there—there were several others present—Murphy was there, and Fallon, Ryan, and M'Carthy—the house was reckoned half-way between the Holborn and the West-end men—English said that he could get a place in Castle Market—we went there—it was a public-house—the only thing I heard was that one of the men said he had got 25 lbs. of powder—that was Ryan—he told me he got it at some place off the Dials—I did not know of anyone else having powder at that meeting—I did not hear of any—that night or the next day I heard of more powder being had—I heard it from Fallon and Barrett when they were together at, I think, Rice's public-house—Felix Fallon asked me for my address to leave a barrel of powder at—I asked him what he wanted with a barrel of gunpowder: I knew at the same time—and he said he and his partner were going to hawk it in the country—I think this was said in the private bar—Miss Rice was behind the bar—I told him I did not understand giving my address for it—he then said that he would send it to his lodgings—he told me it was to be delivered, I forget the day—I gave half a sovereign to Felix Fallon, but I received it back again from Captain Murphy, it was not expected from me—I was out of work then, owing to the tailor's strike—I was working on my board that day, and I saw M'Carthy with a half or quarter barrel under his arm—that was the same day that the powder was to be delivered at his lodgings—he was not the same man who had been present at one of the meetings—it was in Sherrard Street—I knew that M'Carthy—I think he is a shoemaker—he had been present at some of our meetings—I do not know what the powder cost—Murphy used to get letters addressed to my house—the postman brought them—I did not see anything done with them—I saw newspapers—Captain Murphy rubbed the stuff over the papers, and the writing on them came out—I think no one else was there—I saw Murphy write a letter in secret writing—on 11th December I was at a meeting at William Desmond's—I went there about 9.30 or 10 o'clock—there were present English, Barrett, William Desmond, Captain Murphy, Ryan, Lynch, Hayes, Quin, the M'Carthy who had the barrel of powder, Fallon, and, I should think, about a dozen and a half altogether—when I went in I saw a man looking very pale in the face, with his coat open—I went over to see what was the matter with him—he was not shot, but it had grazed his skin—a revolver which English had in his hand went off by accident—Ryan was the man

who was wounded—there were six or seven pistols in the room—it was there I learnt who was the man who had the barrel, and the man who had got something to carry the fuse—Captain Murphy said that they had the powder all right, and then asked what they were to do for a truck to wheel the powder on—someone in the room, I think it was I, said that a man named Maddox, living in Marshall Street, kept a truck—Felix then went out, and he was gone about the time that he would be gone there and come back again—when he came in he said, "All right"—I also saw Captain Murphy load a cavalry pistol there, and give it to a man who was there—Captain Murphy said that we were to meet at 12 o'clock the next day at Desmond's house, to go from there to the House of Detention, for the purpose of rescuing Burke—we were to go in twos and threes—I did not go—a tundish or funnel was spoken about: that is to carry the fuse—Felix said that he had got it—it was not said what the tundish was for, or what was to be done at the House of Detention, but they all understood it—they were to be at the House of Detention at 3.30—Burke knew all about it—nothing was said as to how Burke was to know anything about it, that I am aware of—on Thursday, 12th December, I was at home—I am not aware that I saw either of the prisoners on the Thursday, but on the evening of that day I saw Barrett at Cavanagh's public-house, Pollen Street—Felix, English, and Patten were there, I think there were some others: I do not know their names—it was about eleven o'clock: it was late when I went out—Barrett came part of the way home with me—Felix was with us—I asked Barrett how they got on that day with the barrel, and he told me that the Captain failed in lighting the fuse that day, but that he, Barrett, would light it to-morrow, and blow it to hell—Barrett always went by the name of Jackson—Ryan lived at Sherwood Place, across the street—on the following day I went to Ryan's, to know if he had done some work for me—I saw Captain Murphy and English there—Ryan was there too—I did not see Murphy after that day—I did not see one of the prisoners from that time until after the explosion—in the evening I heard of the explosion—it was about 5 or 5.30—I was in my shop, and went out to see if I could see anything about it in the newspaper—I saw Patten come into my front room, where I work—his ear was bleeding—a conversation took place between us respecting it—he went into, the back room, through a door which communicated—I did not see him again that night—I did not see Barrett at my house that evening—I saw him later in the evening at the Welsh Stores, at the corner of Glasshouse Street—I noticed that his whiskers were off, and he had a short coat on—up to that time his whiskers were something like mine; the whiskers and beard joined—I cannot say whether he had a moustache or not; I think he had a slight one—Barrett wore a blue coat previous to that night—the jacket that he has on now belongs to Patten—I began to chaff him respesting his whiskers being off, and he said, "Don't speak so loud; it was I who fired the barrel"—I asked him who was with him, he said, "Murphy"—he said that he got his whiskers taken off because he feared that he might be noticed: that he might be identified—I did not see Barrett after that until I saw him at the Bow Street Court—I was taken up on the Thursday after the explosion—I did not see Murphy, Fallon, or Patten after the Friday night—on the Friday night Mrs. Koeppl, a workwoman, came to the public-house—Barrett was there then—I was arrested on a charge of treason-felony, but some time afterwards I was charged with having assisted in this affair, and I then gave evidence before the Magistrate—I

said at the police-court that I knew more; I then referred to the letter of Barrett, which I did not mention there.

THOMAS BUGGINS . I am a foreman at Messrs. Thwaites & Reid, 4, Lower Rosoman Street, Clerkenwell—on Saturday, the day after the explosion, I went on to the roof of the workshop to see what injury had been done—I found on the roof half the stave of a barrel—when I found it it smelt strongly of paraffin—I gave it to Inspector Potter.

THOMAS AMBROSE POTTER (Police Inspector G). I received part of the stave of the barrel (produced)—I found three small pieces of the barrel on the same morning (produced)—a stave was given to me after that by Slocombe.

RICHARD SLOCOMBE (Police Constable 186). On the morning after the explosion I found a stave in the exercising yard of the prison—it was amongst the ruins and rubbish of the wall that had been blown down—I sent it to Inspector Potter.

Tuesday, April 21, 1868.

PATRICK MULLANY , cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. You have been a Fenian, you say? A. Yes; since some time before the rising—when I was made a Fenian I was not made at the same time a centre—I always passed as a Fenian since I came to London—before I was made a centre, the prisoner William Desmond was not a visitor at my house regularly; not often—in London I was not the entertainer; I did not receive the centres that came from the country to transact business—I entertained some of them, not all—I knew none of them, except Barrett—Captain Murphy never slept at my house—he came, and took his meals with me and my wife sometimes—Barrett, when he came to London, did not stop with me; he dined there sometimes—I once pawned my watch, but not for the purpose of entertaining these people from the country—I never knew a meeting but once, at my house—I heard of another on a Sunday evening, but I was not there; I went out and left them to do what they liked—there was another meeting at my house, better than twelve months ago—Vaughan was not in the habit of coming to my house—he is not a friend of mine; I never spoke to him, to my knowledge, until I saw him at Bow Street court-house—upon the 1st, or one of the first three days of December, I remember a meeting in Little Queen Street, Holborn—I said positively, yesterday, that William Desmond was at that meeting; I made myself quite certain of it—the first time, I said I was not certain of it, but since that I have made myself quite sure.

COURT. Q. How do you mean, quite certain? A. I have brought things to bear on my memory which remind me that he was there.

MR. SLEIGH. Q. You spoke, yesterday, of a meeting at the American Stores, in Oxford Street; there, you say that William Desmond was present; you gave your evidence on 28th January, and I ask you, when the matter was then fresh in your memory, did you make one mention of William Desmond's name as being present at that meeting? A. I can't say whether I did or not; but I know he was there—there were a great many people there whom I cannot think of—I know William Desmond was there—I was present at Father O'Connor's meeting—I believe I have not given evidence before of that—I did not know Vaughan at that time—I have seen him since, at the police-court, but do not recollect whether he was present at the meeting; I know nothing at all about him—I was on the platform, and

was very active in the room, going round with plates—I do not think I saw William Desmond there—I cannot say whether he was there or not; I do not recollect seeing him—I had no conversation with these men—I merely lifted the plate before a few in the front row; another man went down the room—I do not remember the Saturday night before Father O'Connor's meeting—I do not know, I might have seen Vaughan there, but I did not know him—I had often been in conversation with men without knowing who they were—I did not know Vaughan was a Fenian till I saw him at the police-court—on 11th December there was a meeting at William Desmond's house—a man, before I went, had been accidentally shot—he was not shot, a pistol had gone off accidentally—he looked rather ill and queer, and went out to get the fresh air; William Desmond took him out—I cannot say the time they were absent, but the meeting was nearly over—they may have been three-quarters of an hour, or an hour—during the time they were out, I did not see other persons come into Desmond's room.

Q. You have said there were eighteen men; I want to know whether some of these men did not come into this room and join in conversation with you after William Desmond and Ryan had gone away? A. I cannot say that—I heard, at the American Stores, there was going to be a meeting at William Desmond's—it was generally understood; the women in the street knew it—it was generally understood that it was to be done—when I went into the room, I did not say to William Desmond, "I want you to heel my boots"—I said that in the streets a day or two before then; I did not say so on that night—I went to a public-house, but I had no whiskey with him—Desmond and Ryan were in the public-house—I did not see Ryan come back—I and Desmond did not go into this public-house, the other men remaining upstairs in William Desmond's room, Desmond was in the public-house when I went in—I went out again, leaving them in, and went to the men in Desmond's house—the letter that copperas had been used to was not twelve months ago—Murphy had that letter, and there were two or three people round him—that letter was not read out publicly at that meeting—I have not mentioned William Desmond as one of the men who were standing around Murphy; I could not say so—the letter was not read out aloud.

Cross-cxamined by MR. KEOGH. Q. Were you a Fenian when you were working in Ireland? A. No—I merely passed for one when I came to London—when I came to London I mixed with them, and English introduced me to Kellyas a decent fellow—I was then sworn as a centre—very likely that was a tribute to my hospitality, I can't say—I never pawned my watch for the purpose of entertaining them—I was then earning good wages—I used to make 4l. or 5l. a week—you see the position I am now in—I paid 14s. a week for my lodgings—I pawned my watch last summer, when the tailors struck, I could not get men to work for me, and I lost money—I cannot read much—I did not read the copperas letter—I heard it read, and was satisfied it came from Burke—Burke's sister was never out of my house until he came there—I am quite satisfied the letter came from Burke—Murphy read me the letter—I can't read print distinctly—I have not read any of the placards about the Crown offering rewards—I daresay I could have read them—I got drunk on the Friday night, and I was not quite sober until I was arrested on Thursday, the 19th; I was so much upset by the affair—I have a brother in America—he never wrote to me since I was a boy—I expect he is there, he went there; I have not heard

of him for years—I do not recollect meeting the prisoner English in Regent Street in March last—I recollect his doing a job for me—he did it for a Mr. Dolan—he finished a coat for him—will swear it was for Mr. Dolan—I have seen the man wear it—I know a Dr. Morrison—I do not know what English may do for Dr. Morrison—he introduced Dr. Morrison to me—on the Thursday before the explosion I was at Mr. Davis's, Hanover Street, Hanover Square—I saw English and William Desmond on the Thursday, going off to see the explosion, and they asked me, but I would not go—it might be about a quarter to four on the Thursday—he asked me to go to Clerkenwell—I do not recollect that anything was said about the explosion—I do not know whether the word explosion was used, I cannot exactly say it was, I cannot say it was not; I can't say—he asked me to go up to Clerkenwell—it was well known that there was going to be an explosion at Clerkenwell—I knew it from previous meetings, of course—I had not the pleasure of Father O'Connor's acquaintance, till English introduced me, just a day or two before the meeting—I might see Vaughan at that meeting—I did not know him—I first saw him at Bow Street—I do not know what date; I was too much troubled at that time—very likely he knew me, a good many men know me that I don't know—I used to employ many men, and I was a good deal about—I never bought any arms for this Fenian movement—I never took much interest in the movement—I said I passed as a Fenian for five or six years—my sympathies were with them—I dare say I was anxious to promote the movement up to then—I was not all the time plotting my apostacy—I would have made more of it if I had been plotting; I did it because I knew English was splitting—I did not expect any money—I do not know what they may do with me—I know the English Crown always pay people for their services—I turned for the sake of my family—I did not want to be thrown into prison for ever, with a young family, and my state of health—when I entered into the conspiracy I never gave that a thought—I expect nothing—I stand charged with treasonfelony. Q. Do you expect to get punished? A. I do not know—I am the property of the English Crown, they can do what they like with me—I never purchased arms—at least a revolver, once—I never went to Enfield to purchase arms; I do not known where it is—I was never in the volunteer force. Q. How did you know that English was about split? A. He told me in Bow Street court-house—he told me I would not see him another week in the position he was in, I should see him walking into the witness box—I knew the sort of man he was.

COURT. Q. What were the exact words he said to you? A. He said he would see them all at the devil, or something like that, before he would suffer imprisonment for them.

MR. KEOGH. Q. I suppose it was a dead race between you as to which would inform first? A. I do not know about that—I knew it was the best thing I could do—I informed perhaps the next week—I knew for a week that English was going to split—I did it to save myself—it might be the next day for aught I know that I informed—I know I thought of it very much—I think I informed in that week—I made the statement in Bow Street—it might be Monday or Tuesday, I can't say—I never thought of reward—I have turned solely for the sake of my family—it may have been a day or two after English's statement to me that I informed—it weighed heavily on my mind—I knew very well what the man was—I believed he was doing it at that time—I fully believed it—I do not know what time

passed—I sent for the governor of Millbank prison, but he will never come to you when you send for him—you have to give notice a night or a day clear before you see him—I expect nothing from my evidence, only what the Crown chooses to do with me.

Cross-examined by MR. BAKER GREENE. Q. You seem to have made a great many admissions; are you aware that those may be used against you? A. I do not know; I have not received any information that they will not be used against me—when I was in prison I did not hear from any of the warders that any of the prisoners were going to inform—I cannot be certain of that, it may be—we were confined in separate cells—I saw the prisoner English going across the yard—I don't think I received any intimation from any officer or warder that any of the prisoners were about to turn informer—to the best of my opinion I did not—there was so much on my mind at the time, that there are many things I have not thought of.

Q. How did you go about being introduced into this brotherhood? A. A good many of the Fenians were tailors, and I used to meet them at these houses they resorted to, and English introduced me to Kelly—they are very friendly when they meet—I expressed a wish to join—that may be fifteen or sixteen months ago—it may be more—I could not say exactly how many persons were present when I was sworn in—there might be eight, or ten, or twelve, perhaps, there at the time—the head centre repeated the oath, and we repeated it after him—James Kelly was the head centre—several persons took the oath simultaneously—I have heard Vaughan's testimony—the rule is that the oath is administered in the absence of others, but that is not the centre's—they have an oath for the centres—it was the centre's oath that I took—we were all made centres at one time—I was not a Fenian before—I passed for one, but I was not one—a centre is a high grade.

Q. When was it you first saw Barrett? A. Well, I do not know the date—he came with Captain Murphy to my house a fortnight or so before the explosion, I can't say exactly—I don't think I stated this before the Magistrate—he introduced Barrett to me by the name of Jackson—the first conversation we had about getting Burke out of prison was, I think, on the night that Barrett was introduced to me—I do not remember the date when this letter was produced—it may have been three or four days before the explosion; about that—it may have been a fortnight—it may have been seven or eight days before the explosion; but three or four days after I had been introduced to Barrett—the operation took place at my house—copperas is not used in my trade, I don't know anything about it—Murphy asked me to get it, and I did—he got some hot water in a cup, and a cloth, and rubbed it over the letter, and the writing came out—the paper was made wet—it dried up very soon—English, Desmond, and Barrett were present—they did not seem surprised when they saw these words come out—I gave the Crown solicitor information about this letter before I went to Bow Street; at least, I can't say, I am not quite sure—I did not mention about the letter in my examination in Bow Street, because I was not asked—I had told the Crown solicitor before that—I knew about the blowing up of the wall before it was blown up, and I gave a half-sovereign towards buying the powder—I asked Fallou what he wanted with the powder, because I did not think he wanted so much, and there was a person standing by who overheard the conversation—that was the reason I asked Fallon that question, it was to take the harm out of it, as a person was by—there was an arrangement

about meeting at William Desmond's on the Thursday, the day before the explosion, between 12 and 1 o'clock, to go to the House of Detention—that was arranged at the meeting on Wednesday night, the 11th—it was arranged that we should go in twos and threes—there might be sixteen or eighteen persons present at the meeting at Desmond's—they were to go there, and of course to be of some service in carrying out this plot—nothing was said, it was understood—I did not go, because I was too busy, and another thing, I refused—I said it was not proper for any man of family or a married man to go there at all; I said that as well during the week; I always said so—I did not encourage the explosion at all—I knew they reckoned one traitor among them, so I thought that would be the best way to get out of it—I don't think I mentioned at the Police Court about going in twos and threes, or about Felix Fallon asking for my address in order to put the powder there—I think I gave that information to the solicitor of the Treasury previously—I don't think I mentioned to the Magistrate that I asked Fallon what he was going to do with the powder, and that he said he was going to hawk it—I did not think of it—I did not expect to give evidence on that day, and I did not think of these things—I think I had given information of it to the solicitor for the Treasury, but I am not sure—I saw Barrett on the Thursday, the day preceding the explosion: that is a thing I wanted to mention to-day—yesterday I was asked did I see Barrett—Barrett came to my room either on the Wednesday or Thursday of the explosion, I think Thursday, with another man—I thing it was Felix or young Casey, I can't say which, and at night I saw him at Cavanagh's—I did not expect to see him there—it was in the public bar—I was standing at the bar and they were inside the tap-room—there were a great number of people about there—I used to go there nearly every night—the conversation about the attempt which had been made that day to blow up the House of Detention was on our way home—Fallon was with me at that time, and English was in company with him in the public-house, and so was Patten—I was by myself at the bar and they were inside the tap-room till we came out—I asked Barrett what became of the barrel of powder, or how they got on with it—he said they got it back all right—he said the captain had failed in lighting the fuse, but that he would light it on the morrow and blow it to hell—I asked him where the barrel was—he said if I went with him he would show me—I don't know whether anything more passed about the failure of the attempt, there may be—I did not inquire who took part in it then, it was too late—I can't say whether I said anything at the police office about Barrett's having said the captain had failed to light the powder, I am not sure—I don't know whether an arrangement was then made for the members to be present next day at the House of Detention—I was not with them, I was where they met—I saw that some of them met at Ryan's house—I was not required to be present—I had said I would not attend it—I saw Murphy on the morning of the explosion—I never saw him afterwards—no arrangement was made by Murphy for me to attend on that day, or for the other members to be there, that I am aware of—I saw Barrett again on the Friday evening, the day of the explosion, in the Welsh Stores, at the corner of Warwick Street and Glasshouse Street, or it may be outside the door, I don't know—I recollect my apprentice, Henry Morris, being examined before the Magistrate—I was at that time in the dock—I believe Morris then stated that on the night of the explosion Barrett came to my house, accompanied by a man whose ear was bleeding, and that he

had been fighting; the man said so himself—I did not see the man whose ear was bleeding, at the Welsh Stores that night—I saw him at my house—he came into my workshop and asked for a needle and thread—I asked him what was the matter with his ear, and he said he had been fighting and a man bit it—I did not see Barrett—I have heard that he was in the backroom, since; I did not know it—Morris said so at Bow Street—I don't recollect that he said his whiskers were then on—when I saw Barrett the same evening his whiskers were off, and I chaffed him about it at the bar of the public-house—I knew of the explosion then—Mrs. Koeppl, and Barrett, and I were there—Mrs. Koeppl has worked for me about two years—I did not speak in the presence of a number of people, only Mrs. Koeppl—I do not know whether she was in the secrets of the brotherhood—I would not speak about the explosion in her presence, or anybody's, except somebody's who I had confidence in—Barrett said that it was he who lit the barrel, and he took his whiskers off as he should be identified if he kept them on—he said that about 7 o'clock—I was paying my wages, and met Mrs. Koeppl, who asked me for some money, part of her wages—I asked her in with me, and gave her 2s. 6d. or 5s., I do not know which—there was a change in Barrett's dress, he used to dress in a blue coat and an ordinary hat, but he was then wearing the jacket that he has on now—I never saw him after that night; and never saw Fallon or Murphy afterwards—I saw Ryan during the week after the explosion; I heard since that he was in France—I do not know whether the other men are in England, they may be.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. You have been asked about entertaining these people from the country; Murphy, you say, had his meals with you for some time when he was there? A. Yes? he gave me 1l. 5s. for it—O'Connor's meeting was twelve months ago, last May; it was some time before the explosion—it was before Burke was taken, and had nothing to do with it—I understood the object of it to be, to get funds to build a church, nothing to do with Fenianism—Father O'Connor said something, and I heard a clapping of hands, but I do not know what he said—they told me to take the second chair; in fact, I was under the influence of drink, and I do not think I was able to take the chair—a great many persons were present at the meeting—I did not know Vaughan then—I am a tailor, and employ men—I had, I think, eleven men working for me at the time of the strike—I have a wife and two children—I may have been an hour and a half at the meeting at William Desmond's—it might be an hour after the meeting that William Desmond went out with Ryan, who had been grazed, and until then he was in the hall with the rest of them—I went out to the public-house, had threepennyworth of brandy, and went back to the meeting—I think none of the men had left except Ryan—I think William Desmond was in the room—he or English asked me to come up next day at twelve o'clock, and I said that I could not, I was too busy—when William Desmond went away with Ryan, I think he came back into the room—Dolan is a man who I worked for—I had been ill, and English finished the coat for me, which was partly finished—Mr. Dolan paid for it—I have seen him wear it—it would not have fitted Mr. Morrisson, as Mr. Dolan is bigger than any man here—Captain Costello, an officer in the American army, gave me a ticket for the coat; it was pawned—I was arrested on Thursday night, and was, I think, taken before the Magistrate on the Friday—on one occasion, when I was at Bow Street, English made a statement to me, and very toon after that I sent for the

Governor of the gaol—I remember being examined at the police-court—the Magistrate put questions to me, and I answered them—I had made statements before that with regard to other persons not present in the dock—I think the gentleman who examined me told me that I was not to mind names—I answered the questions put to me at the police-court as well as I could—Mrs. Koeppl worked for me on my premises—I met her accidentally, I think on the evening of the 13th, at the corner of Brewer Street, in the street—she was leaving work and going home—she made an application for money—I think Barrett was in the street; I think I met him a few minutes previously—I went into the house to get change, and gave Mrs. Koeppl 2s. 6d., I think—I do not think I said anything about Mrs. Koeppl at the police-court; I said nothing there but what I was asked.

JAMES VAUGHAN . I am a tailor, and work for Messrs. Davis & Goodman, in Oxford Street—I have known Timothy Desmond since 1865, William eighteen months, English four or five years, and O'Keefe about eighteen months—I have spoken to Mullany upon different occasions, principally at Cavanagh's—I was sworn in in 1865 as a member of the Fenian Brotherhood—Timothy Desmond administered the Fenian oath to me—I saw Timothy Desmond on the day of the explosion, between 1.30 and 2.30—he called upon me at my house, Pugh's Place, Carnaby Street, Golden Square, and halloed out "Ahoy!"—I said to him, "Tim, have you been muddling it?"—he replied, "Well, I have seen my son off to sea this morning"—I asked him that question because I could see he had been drinking that morning—I should not say that he was then drunk—he asked my wife did she see his wife—she said, "No"—I said, "You do not mean to say, Ted, that your wife has hooked it from you?"—he said, "Yes, and, by the God that made me, she will never lay beside me again"—he then wished my wife good-bye and kissed her, and said that he was going to take a jump—my wife said, "Do not be so foolish"—he then leant over the board to me, and whispered to me that the thing must be done—I asked him what, and he said, "We are going to blow up the House of Detention"—I asked him why: he said, "The thing must be done; we have found out from Anne Justice, by going in with Casey's dinner to him, that they exercise in the yard, and the thing must be done between 3.30 and 4; the trick must be done"—he then wished me good-bye, and said, "When I am launched into eternity, pray for me; or if I get nothing, and am unarrested, the next place will be Millbank"—he then kissed me, and shook me by the hands, and went away—I did not see him again till he was a prisoner—on the same evening, the day of the explosion, English came to the door leading into my room, and said, "For God's sake, Jim, give me as much as you can, for we want to send them off"—I asked who—he said, "What, have you not heard?"—I said, "No"—he said, "The House of Detention is blown b—y bang up!"—I gave him 2s., and told him I could not give him any more, as I was slack—he said, "For God's sake, Jim, try and get as much as you can, for we want it d—d bad"—I saw him next morning, Saturday, in Tyler Street, Regent Street—I went in to buy a newspaper, and when I came out I saw him reading a placard on a board against the shop, and he said "Diabolical" reading from the placard, which was headed "Diabolical Outrage"—I said, "Halloa, Nick!"—he said, "Yes, it is diabolical, and we will burn the whole of London yet, and that will be more diabolical"—I then wished him good-bye in Carnaby Street—on the same day, at 12.30, I was at Bow Street, and saw O'Keefe at the corner of Bow

Street and Russell Street—he came across the road to me, and asked me if I had seen Nick—I told him I had, and had left him in Carnaby Street—he said, "D——it, I had an appointment with him"—I then had a conversation with him at the corner of the street, and with two other gentlemen who had joined us: neither of the prisoners—I said that the explosion was a cruel thing: that there was such a great sacrifice of human life—O'Keefe said, "A thing like that cannot be done without a great sacrifice"—we crossed the road, and went into a public-house at the corner of Bow Street and Russell Street, past Drury Lane Theatre—O'Keefe went with me, and two other young men—when I was in the public-house William Desmond came in, and said, "Halloa, Jimmy, what do you think of that d——d fool?"—I said, "Who?"—he said, "Ted's wife" (we always called Timothy Desmond Ted); "She has been saying that they have called him a coward. Did you ever hear me call him a coward, Jimmy?"—I said, "No"—English then came in, and took William Desmond by the arm, and said, "You don't ward here, now"—he repeated the same words did I ever hear him call Timothy Desmond a coward?—I said, "No"—he had been drinking with the company, but was perfectly sober—I was not drinking that morning—I then said that it was a bad job, and William Desmond said, "It served him b——y well right, "I understood him to mean Timothy Desmond, "for he had no business there, we sent him back, and told him to go and take an hour's sleep"—English said that it served him d——d well right, for he had no business there, and if he was anything of a man he would not let his wife know as much as he knew himself—serving him right had reference to the explosion—I took from their meaning that Timothy Desmond was rather too drunk to go on with the business—Timothy Desmond had been arrested on Friday night, and this was Saturday, after the explosion—they both left—I went to Bow Street to see the prisoners brought up—I thought I would be in time to see them brought up or go away—I did not see them brought up, but I saw Timothy Desmond's wife, and spoke to her, and asked her to have some drink—I did not see either of them after that till the Sunday evening, when I saw William and Timothy Desmond at Cavanagh's, in Pollen Street, and Mullany and some others in the private bar—I saw them on Friday night at Cavanagh's, and saw William Desmond and his wife outside—I told him there were several detectives watching his house, and I should advise him to take his hook—he said, "What am I to do, Jimmy, I have got no money?"—William Desmond and English were then inside the public bar, and Mullany was in the private bar, with several other gentlemen—William Desmond did not say anything outside about we being seen together; the only conversation between us outside was about seeing detectives watching his house—I asked him for some money to get some drink—he said, "Jimmy, you know b——well I have got no money, and therefore I cannot move"—we went inside, and Mullany handed a glass of liquor; which I took to be whiskey; to English—I have seen Barrett on two occasions with English: on 6th December, in Cavanagh's private bar, but had no conversation with him, and about four days afterwards in Regent Street—he then had long Dundreary whiskers and a slight moustache.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. You state to-day that William Desmond said "What am I to do, Jimmy, I have got no money?" when you were examined at the police-court did you say that? A. Yes—my deposition was read over to me, and I signed it—I found something wrong and altered it—as I left it, so it is.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. What were you before you became a Fenian? A. A tailor—I was in the Army at one time—I refuse to say whether I deserted—am I bound, my Lord, to criminate myself?—I ceased to be in the Army in 1859, or 1860—in fact, I answered the question before at the police-court—I am married, and live with my wife—I have a stepdaughter—I cannot say whether this was nearer two than half-past—I was very busy, it was my pay day, and I was at work on the board—I do not know the size of the board, perhaps you had better get a carpenter—it is perhaps eighteen feet long—I did not say I had a shop, it is a room—I cannot always afford to keep a shop to work in—I cannot say whether my step-daughter was there—my wife wag there on the other end of the board—I am positive Timothy Desmond had been drinking when he said "Ahoy"—he said he had sent his son Danny to sea—I have never been mad—I cannot say that I have ever been under restraint—I used to drink—I cannot say whether I ever drunk myself into delirium tremens—I know Dr. French, he told me I was not to drink, but Dr. Dickinson told me I was to drink—I cannot say whether I have had delirium tremens, or whether I have been under restraint—I was in St. James's workhouse twice—I am a very hard working man—it was after I had commenced being a tailor that I went into St. James's workhouse; in fact, I have been several times in the workhouse, not inside, but applying for relief—I have been in twice as a lodger—I am positive I was not put into the mad part—I do not wish to swear at all—Timothy Desmond might have been a yard and a half from my wife when he whispered to me—he put his mouth right up to my ear—until then he had been talking in the ordinary way to me—he had spoken previously to my wife—he rubbed his side against me, but did not lurch against me—it was after he asked my wife about his wife that he said he was going to take a jump; it was when he kissed her—the impression on my mind was not that he was going to commit suicide, certainly not; because he winked at me when he said it.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. How long had you known Mullany? A. I dare say eighteen months or two years, I cannot say which—I remember the night before the O'Connor meeting, which was in a room in Cavanagh's public-house—Mullany was there—I cannot say what month it was in—it was about three months from the time I gave my evidence, which was in December—I spoke to Mullany at that meeting—I was a soldier in the 15th Regiment, if I was in it now I should not be standing here—I took an oath when I went into the Regiment, to serve Her Majesty the Queen—I expect I broke that oath when I deserted away—I did desert, I gave that evidence before.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. You are a member of the Fenian Brotherhood you say, have you ever sworn in any members? A. No—I was sworn in—only two persons are present when a man is sworn in—that is the invariable rule—it is not done in the presence of a number of members—I did not know the House of Detention was going to be blown up—I knew so much as Timothy Desmond told me—I thought it was only the wall, I said so in my evidence—no mention was made of Barrett in the conversation—I made no allusion to him at my first examination, but subsequently I was informed that a man named Barrett had been arrested and brought up from Scotland, and I was taken to Millbank Prison to identify him—I was asked, did I know any prisoner there? I was to look for the right one—I saw Timothy Desmond, and Anne Justice, and all of them,

and immediately Barrett came outside I knew him—I had seen them at Bow Street police-office, except Barrett, and knew them.

Q. Were you shown Barrett? A. I was taken to the cell, and he was called out, but I did not know his name; and another party was called out, I think it was O'Neill, and another man named Clancey—those were the persons who had been arrested—I recognized Barrett—I knew him before; I had seen him twice—I said that the first occasion was in the early part of December; it might have been the 6th—it was about the 6th that I saw him at Cavanagh's; and I saw him about four days afterwards in Regent Street—there was nothing to fix it on my memory more than seeing him with English at Cavanagh's, talking privately—I did not know him connected with the Fenian Brotherhood; there are plenty of us who do not know each other in the Fenian society, it is so large—I did not see him—he is quite a stranger to me—no mention was made of him in the conversation I had with the Desmonds—when I saw him in December his whiskers were very large, a kind of Dundreary whiskers, coming down in a bunch, and a slight moustache, but no beard; his chin was clean shaved—when I saw him in prison, his whiskers had been shaved off, and had three or four weeks' growth; but, notwithstanding that, I recognized him immediately he came out of the cell.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. You say you were in the Army; were you ever tried by court martial? A. I was once, and was reduced to the ranks—I had been a corporal—that is the only time that I was tried—I refuse to answer how I have been living since I gave information to the police—I have been receiving payment from the police; I cannot say through whom, but through a certain constable, and through different parties at times—that has been my only means of subsistence ever since I gave information—I saw a placard offering a reward before I gave information; I did not read it at all—I gave information to Sergeant Cole, I dare say three hours afterwards—I have known him thirteen years, or more—I never drank with him in my life, nor have I been in the habit of going about with him—I expect to get a portion of the reward, if these men are convicted—the conversation which began with "Ahoy" was not earlier than 1.30, or later than 2.30—it was a few paces off, near Carnaby Street, Golden Square—it could npt have been later than 2.30—I swear that I heard that conversation outside Bow Street police-court, with O'Keefe and two other men, that it was a cruel thing, and there was a great sacrifice of life—that conversation was in the street; I am sure of that, and likewise in the public-house as well—I did not say, "Have you seen English?" when O'Keefe ran over to me I said, "Have you seen Nick?"—we talked about the explosion previous to going to the public-house—O'Keefe and the two strange men talked about the explosion at the corner of Russell Street, and Bow Street, and likewise at the public-house—I said, at Bow Street, that they talked about the explosion, both in the street and the public-house—I said that it took place in the public-house, and also O'Keefe's answer, "A thing like that cannot be done without a great sacrifice"—that was also said in the public-house—I have not said that the same conversation took place in the street; I said that the first thing that you asked me took place in the street and the public-house, but not the last—O'Keefe said, at the corner of Bow Street, "These things cannot be done without a sacrifice," and he said it in the public-house as well—there were more than five or six people in the public-house, but I never counted them—what was said was not

said aloud, it was a kind of whisper among the lot of us—I was not drinking that day—it was not said loud enough for the other people in the bar to hear, but loud enough not only for me to hear, but the other parties who were with me—there were five of us in the public-house, O'Keefe, William Desmond, English, and one or two others—they were not strangers; I knew them well, and also the men at the corner of the street, but I do not know their names, only their features—I have known Mullany eighteen months or two years—I have met him on several occasions, and have spoken to him; I have said "Good evening"—I suppose he knew I was a member of the Brotherhood—I did not know that he was, but I was told he was a centre—I have only said "Good day," or "Good evening, "to him; I never had conversations with him—I have been at meetings where he was—I knew his name—he has not addressed me as Vaughan—that is the name I have always gone by up to the present time—I did not change my name when I left the Army—my wife is living with me, and I have been living on the money supplied by the police.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . How many years is it since you deserted? A. It was between 1859 and 1861—I was reduced to the ranks for absence without leave—that was before I deserted—I was never tried for anything disgraceful before I went into the Army—I was learning the tailoring trade with, my father, it may be two, three, or four years ago, that I was an indoor dweller in the workhouse, I cannot say—it was then that was I warned by Dr. French about the habit of drinking—my step-daughter is about nine years old—when men are sworn into the Fenian Brotherhood only two persons are present, but there are always others in the room when they are sworn in as centres—I was never present, but I have heard so—I was sworn in in Duck Lane, Soho—I have seen Mullany at different times at Cavanagh's, and at the meeting for Father O'Connor—plenty of people were present when I saw him.

COURT. Q. What punishment had you for being absent without leave? A. I was only degraded—I served eighteen months or more—I went out at night and stopped about two days out and returned back again.

JOHN PATRICK M'EWEN . I am a clerk to Messrs. Curtis and Harvey, gunpowder manufacturers—on Wednesday, December 5, a man called at 74, Lombard Street—he asked if he could have some 501bs. of blasting powder next day—I told him he could have it the day after the next day—he said he would see his partner and call again—about four o'clock the same afternoon he came and ordered 2001bs., to be delivered at 8, Pulteney Court, Silver Street, on Friday, to the name of George Smith—on the Friday, the 6th, the powder was sent by a man named Purchase, our carman, who is here—the powder was delivered from our works at Hounslow to Purchase.

WILLIAM PURCHASE . I am carman to Messrs. Curtis and Harvey—on Friday, December 6th, I took four half-barrels of gunpowder to 8, Pulteney Court, each weighing 50lbs.—I took them in the van to the end of the court, and went up to No. 8, a greengrocer's shop, and asked for Mr. Smith—a man purporting to be Smith came to me, and took charge of the powder—I carried one half-barrel into the yard of No. 8, the other three I put into a truck at the tail of the van, by Smith's directions—the truck was taken in the direction of Golden Square, by a man who was waiting with it, when I came back from the house—a piece of tarpaulin was put over the powder, before the truck was taken away, by Smith—it was

between 10.30 and 11 in the morning—I was paid 3l. 7s. 6d. for it—the barrels were about the size of a butter tub.

MARTHA KENSLEY . In December last I lodged at No. 8, Pulteney Court, at Mrs. Martin's—she kept a greengrocer's shop—at the time of the explosion, and before, I had seen Barrett several times there, in the shop, and coming in and out of the parlour door—the last time I saw him, I think, was the Sunday night before the explosion—he then wore very full whiskers, no beard, and a very little moustache—I had seen him several times—I identified his photograph before he was brought from Glasgow.

Cross-examined by MR. BAKER GREENE. Q. Did that photograph represent him as he was when he was arrested in Glasgow, without whiskers? A. No, it was the same as I had seen him at Mrs. Martin's—I am a waistcoatmaker, living with my parents—I first was brought to see Barrett by the police, at the King Street station, Westminster—he was amongst other prisoners, and I did not at first recognize him—I saw him next, I think, at Millbank, where I was taken by the police—I had an idea at first that he was the man, but wanted to see him again to be quite sure of him—at Millbank I recognized him amongst the other prisoners—I was ordered to attend at Bow Street on the Monday morning—the police came and inquired at the house about the young men who had lodged in the house—several lodged there: I believe three or four—I first saw Barrett, I think, about two months before the explosion—I never spoke to him—the last Sunday I saw him he was going out with Mrs. Martin, and I made the remark to my parents, because she was a lone woman—I fix this as the Sunday before the explosion, from my parents having traced it back—I also believe it in my own mind—I stated before the Magistrate that it was on the Monday night—I saw him on that night as well as on the Monday night, so I make a mistake when I say the Sunday was the last time I saw him—I believe it was about a week after the explosion that the police first applied to me—I did not know when Barrett was arrested in Scotland—he had sandy whiskers, very full and very long—he had nothing on his chin—I am not sure whether he wore a moustache, but if he did it was very little indeed—he always carried a carpet bag—I never saw him once without—he had it when he went out with Mrs. Martin.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. How long was it after the explosion that you were shown Barrett's photograph? A. I don't recollect for certain—I went to identify him a week after that—I lived with my parents on the first floor—Mrs. Martin lived in the parlour, and I saw Barrett and her at the private door, going out—at the station-house I saw Barrett amongst a number of other prisoners on the Sunday—I went to Bow Street on the Monday—at Millbank, Barrett was shown me with the other prisoners, and then I was satisfied it was the man—he was not pointed out to me—I was timid on the first occasion—he was very much altered both in dress and appearance from when he was in Pulteney Court—I saw him eight or nine times at Mrs. Martin's—Mrs. Martin, I believe, is now in prison—I was twice at Bow Street, but only once before the Magistrate—I saw Barrett only twice before I identified him—Mrs. Martin is in prison for threatening my life—my father and mother, I believe, have seen Barrett once—I am nineteen years old.

WILLIAM PURCHASE (re-examined: looking at the staves produced). These are much larger than a 501bs. barrel—the half-barrels I delivered were nothing to be compared to these; they were about twenty inches by fifteen.

THOMAS KENSLEY . I live at 8, Pulteney Court—I am brother of the last witness—we have left there now about three weeks—we were living there a short time before the explosion—I know the nearest prisoner to me (Barrett)—I have seen him at Mrs. Martin's, the same house I lived in; she was the landlady of No. 8—I first saw him there about five or six weeks, I should think, before the explosion—the last time I saw him there was about a week before the explosion—it was on the Sunday morning before the explosion, between 9 and 10 o'clock—he was outside the shop door; I mean the entrance to the shop—there is no outer door to the shop—it is open on Sunday—they were just beginning to open the shop that morning when I saw him—no one was with him—I can't exactly recollect how recently before that I had seen him—I had seen him at Mrs. Martin's—I was examined before the Magistrate—I saw him at Millbank on the Saturday before that: I went there to identify him—the prisoners were taken out of their cells one at a time; he was taken out of his cell pretty nearly the last—I did not at first recognize him as the man I had seen; there was a great change in him, about his dress, and his whiskers were greatly altered—when I saw him before the explosion he had long whiskers, no beard, and only a faint moustache—when I saw him at Millbank his whiskers were all shaved off, but they had been growing again—he was also dressed differently—he wore a light grey overcoat at Mrs. Martin's—when I saw him afterwards he had on a blue pilot jacket—Pulteney Court is between Windmill Street and New Street—a truck can come down either of the streets at the side of the court, but cannot get up the court—No. 8 is near the end of the court, on the right-hand side.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. When were you first spoken to about giving information at Bow Street? A. About a week after the explosion I was asked if I had seen any man that used to come to our house, as there were some lodgers over our head—I said, "Yes, my father took-me down to Scotland Yard, "and I told Inspector Clark how the man I saw was dressed—I singled out this man because I knew the others, and had seen them mostly with Mrs. Martin—Barrett was a man that noticed you, he had a very peculiar way with his eyes of noticing you as you passed out—I noticed him most—I mentioned about him because my sister had told about the others that lived in the house, and he was the man I noticed most as I passed out—I did not know whether he lodged there or no—I knew the other men lodged there, but my sister had given a description of them, not of Barrett, she had not noticed him much, I think; she did not tell me so, but she did not say anything about him that night—I recollect her going to see Barrett at King Street—I think it was on the Sunday—I think it was after I had been to Millbank, I won't be sure—I think it was after I had recognized him, my sister was not with me at Millbank, and I was not with her at King Street—She did not speak to me about having been to King Street to see him—I heard no account of it from her own lips, my mother was talking about it—I can't say whether that was before I went to Millbank—I won't be positive—I heard no description of Barrett before I went to Millbank—I did not hear that he had shaved his whiskers off—I did not ask my sister whether she had identified him—I believe I was examined at Bow Street the same day as my sister—I did not go there with her, I went by myself—I knew she was going—I did not know she was going to identify the man, then—my father and mother are not here—my father had seen the man continually, and we have been kept awake in the night, by men passing up and dawn.

stairs frequently, till 2 or 3 in the morning—when I say the prisoners were taken out of their cells at Millbank, I mean the prisoners at the bar—I can't say whether they were dressed as they are now—I did not see the photograph that was shown to my sister—I never saw it—she was not with me when I saw Barrett on the Sunday—I was just going to my work at the Regent Street station—I am a telegraph clerk—we go to duty three Sundays out of four, very often.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. It was in the morning you saw him? A. Yes, as I went to work—my father has complained several times of the people making a great noise going up and down stairs at night—I have seen Barrett in the shop with Mrs. Martin, and in the parlour as well—in passing the shop you can see into the parlour, it is a very wide shop—it has no door—it is a greengrocer's—the man struck me, from having a peculiar way in his eyes in looking at you—I have seen that person there several times in the week, at night time, at the opening of the shop, and also in the parlour with Mrs. Martin.

MART ANN PAGE . I am the wife of Charles Page—I live at 1, Pulteney Court, opposite to Mrs. Martin's—I remember the explosion—a short time before that I saw William Desmond and English at Mrs. Martin's, talking to her—I have seen William Desmond once or twice there; it might be a week before the explosion, it might be longer—I have seen English several times waiting about as if for other men.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. How long before the explosion did you see William Desmond in Pulteney Court? A. I can't say—when at Bow Street I said I identified only one man, and he was not William Desmond—after being examined I saw Martha Kensley, and spoke to her, as well as to other witnesses and policemen—I said then I fancied I knew William Desmond, and I did know him—on the second examination, I suppose, I told the Police Magistrate that I had seen him nearly every day at Mrs. Martin's, a week before the explosion—I saw him and a great number of other men that I could speak to if I saw them—I went to Millbank to identify the prisoners, and failed to identify William Desmond.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. You had no acquaintance with English? A. No; but I remember him being at Pulteney Court shortly before the explosion—I did not know his name.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. How long after speaking to Martha Kensley, at Bow Street, on 28th January, did you go back into Court and identify William Desmond? A. Directly—I saw English waiting outside for other men who were in Mrs. Martin's house.

CLARISSA DEPOIX . I live with my husband at 1, Pulteney Court, at the time of the explosion—before that time I had seen William Desmond, English, and O'Keefe—William Desmond I have seen several times talking outside of Mrs. Martin's, the greengrocer's, with other men—I think the last time I saw them was about six weeks before the explosion—O'Keefe I have only seen in the neighbourhood.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Is your house opposite Mrs. Martin's? A. Right opposite—I occupied the shop all day and could see people who went in—I went to Millbank, and I did not on that occasion recognize William Desmond—at Bow Street, on 28th January, I recognized English and O'Keefe, but said nothing about William Desmond—after leaving the Court, I said to Mr. Cole, or Mr. Thompson, that I knew the gentleman with the red beard (William Desmond), and he asked why I did

not say so in the Court—I then went into Court a second time and identified him—I had no conversation with Butters or Mrs. Page, or Craufurd.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. The last time you saw English and Martin was six weeks before the explosion? A. Yes.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Before the Magistrate did you say "I thought I knew O'Keefe's features?" A. Yes.

ELIZABETH BUTTERS . I am the wife of Charles Butters, and live at 2, Pulteney Court—No. 8 is nearly opposite—I have seen William Desmond and English at Mrs. Martin's, Desmond several times, and English two or three times—the last time I saw them before the explosion might be a month or six weeks.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. I believe you also, in giving your evidence at first, omitted the mention of William Desmond? A. I did not at first recognize William Desmond, either at Millbank or in the Police Court—I went back into the Court after telling Sergeant Cole I could recognise William Desmond, and identified him—it may have been two or three months before the explosion that I saw William Desmond—at the Police Court I said it was last summer.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. Was this what you said with regard to English at the Police Court, "I have not seen English there since the summer, it might have been a couple of months before the explosion that I saw English there?" A. Yes.

ANN STRINGPIBLD . I live at 3, Wingrove Place, Clerkenwell, just at the corner of Corporation Lane, near Woodbridge Street—my husband is a baker—I have seen Barrett at the corner of Woodbridge Street and Corporation Lane on several occasions—I saw him there about a month previous to the explosion, and on several occasions—me and my husband both thought he was a detective—I saw him there repeatedly—I cannot say how many times—the last time was about a week or ten days before the explosion.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. You say that you recognize Barrett, but when you were asked in the police-office whether you recognized him, did you do so? A. I said that to the best of my recollection I thought he was the man—there are a great many people in the neighbourhood where I live—the first time I saw Barrett was a month before the explosion—he wore, on one occasion, a drab or brown coat, and on the next occasion, something of a pilot coat, I think, and a mixed straw hat—I was taken to Millbank to see if I recognized the man there—before I was taken there a friend of mine, Mrs. Smithers, was there, and I happened to say that Barrett was one of the men—it was after the explosion—she is a witness, and had been examined the same day, and was talking to me—she gave no description of Barrett; he was not in custody then—I said, "I wonder if the man who is about here so often is the man?" and when I was taken to Millbank, I recognized him as the man—he had whiskers, but when I saw him at Millbank they were much shorter, but I recognized him, although there was that difference—in my depositions I say to the best of my belief, and that is what I say now—I should not like to swear that he is the man, but to the best of my belief he is.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. Were you examined till after he was taken up? A. No—I do not know the date—I had communicated with Mrs. Smithers.

JEANETTE CRAUFURD . I am the wife of John Craufurd, a working jeweller,

who is in the country—we live at 71/2, Cross Street, Regent Street—I was living there last December, it is close to Golden Square—Pugh's Place runs out of Carnaby Street—I know William Desmond, and have seen him there—I heard of the explosion in December—at that time William Desmond lived at 10, Cross Street, on the same side as us—we could not see into his back yard from our house—I was at his street door on the day I heard of the explosion, and could see to the back yard, where there were two or three men who I did not know—I did not see William Desmond there—I saw English come from the house, and go towards Carnaby Street, which opens out of Cross Street; he stood at the corner of Cross Street, and Carnaby Street, talking to some gentlemen who I do not know—I had not known him before he came from down stairs in Desmond's place—Desmond lived on the second floor.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. About what hour did you see English come out of the house? A. Between 2 and 3 o'clock on the Thursday—it was not quite 3.

SARAH SMITHERS . I am the wife of Joseph Smithers, who keeps the Bell beer-shop, at the corner of Corporation Lane and Plummer's Place, close to the prison wall—about 3 o'clock on the day before the explosion, four men came in and asked for bread and cheese and stout; my husband served them—we do not keep bread and cheese, and they remained while it was fetched—English is one of those, to the best of my belief—they were there about twenty minutes—I think Barrett was also one of them, but am not sure; I am quite sure I had seen him before the explosion; I do not know when, but I remember his face.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. You have stated "I remember the day before the explosion, four men who I have not seen before came to our house; I believe the prisoner English to be one of the four men; he had been in our house before?" A. I said that I had seen him before—I said that because I remembered having seen his face when I saw him at Bow Street afterwards—I do not remember whether it was in the house or outside, but I am sure I had seen his face—it is only my belief that I had seen them before when they came to my house on Thursday.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. You say that you are not sure you saw Barrett? A. No—I have a fluttering notion that I had seen his face—I think his beard was longer then; he had a long beard when I first saw him—I had a conversation with Mrs. Stringfield after the examination at Bow Street, we went and drank tegether, I mentioned that I had been to Bow Street, but I did not say that I had seen a man who I had seen before at my house, because I had not seen Barrett then.

MR. ATTOREY GENERAL . Q. I believe you were taken before the Magistrate? A. Yes—there was some interval between the two times—I had seen Barrett at Millbank before I was before the Magistrate the second time, and recognized him—he then looked about the same as he does now, only that his beard was longer—I saw no alteration in his appearance then, only regarding the beard.

JAMES STRATTON . I am in carman, at Plummer's Place, Corporation Lane, and was so in December last—I was in and out of the Bell beer house on the day before the explosion several times—I saw English come in and out of the Bell—I would not be certain as to the time; as I go in very frequently to have some refreshment—on the same day I was standing against a post which leads to my stable, and saw two men coming in a direction from St.

John Street Road, they passed me with a truck and a barrel on it, it Was about fifteen or sixteen minutes to four—one man had a sort of old sack thrown over his shoulders, when the truck passed me—I saw them make a sort of a slip with the track, it looked to me done accidentally, it went down in this manner, with the handle on the ground, and a cask, like a paraffin cask, came out of it; a sort of dark-headed cask—it did not fall, the man with the truck eased it and it was put against the prison wall there, nearly opposite No. 3 or 3A—the numbers run rather different, but I think it was opposite 3A—it was placed close to where the prison wall was blown down the next day—I went into my stable after that for two or three minutes, and when I came out again the cask and the truck and the men were gone—Timothy Desmond is the man who passed me with the truck; I could not see the other because he was on the other side—he was on this side of the truck from me, but I did not notice him.

Cross-examined by MR. STRIAGHT. Q. At what time was it you say you saw the truck? A. About 3.45 or 3.50, or something like that—I would not be positive to the time—the Bell is at the corner of Plummer's Place—my premises arc round the corner, at the back of No. 7, my stable is in Bennett Place, down at the Bell—I go in and out of the Bell for refreshment when I think proper—I had had lunch that day—the truck was at the side of the prison wall when it passed me—I was standing by the beer-shop—I have not been lunching to-day at your expense—I have been drinking to-day—I am giving you my serious attention—there are two ports of Plummer's Place—I have to take my horse through here to get to my stable; it is opposite the private door of the Bell—it is the narrow passage at the back of Mr. Bonnett's, No. 7—these men were not on the pavement, they could not be driving the truck, they were on the road with it—I have been examined several times before the Magistrate; I can't say the dates, I could tell you if I had my book—I was examined twice at Bow Street in this manner, once I was examined before the Judge, and since before the clerk; the Coroner—on the night of the explosion I told Mr. Potter and Mr. Bryant that I had seen persons in Corporation Lane the day before—I cannot say when I first went to the police court, whether it was a week afterwards or a month—I said then "I think it was the prisoner with black whiskers" and that is all I am able to say to-day—I said "I think Desmond is one of the men who drawed the truck, but I did not take particular notice"—I did not follow the man to see what he was doing of—I said that the man passed me and I did not take particular notice, and the reason was that I had no notice to take of him, but I saw the man pass with the truck. (The witness's deposition stated. "I took no particular notice of lameness")—a truck in Corporation Lane is sometimes extraordinary.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. Is English a stranger to you? A. I know nothing of the man, only seeing him come inside the Bell—I am not positive about him—I do not know that I ever saw him before that time I am positive he is the man who came in and out—I used to make out my little bills inside the beer-shop—I cannot say that I ever saw him come in and out before that day, but before the explosion took place it was not my business to take notice—I am in the habit of taking refreshment when I require it—I took refreshment there in the morning if I required it—I did not do so at the Bell that morning; they do not open very carly—I go there in the afternoon for refreshment, and in the middle of the day—the day I saw English was the day before the explosion—I went to the Bell at mid-day,

and saw him come in and out—I did not notice the time—I do not notice every man who comes into a man's place.

RICHARD WELLS . I am a gold chain maker, at 10, Earl Street, Clerkenwell—I remember the explosion taking place on the 13th—on the day before that, at 3.45 or 3.50 in the afternoon, I had come from Bowling Green Lane, and was in Corporation Lane, which is a continuation of it, and saw two men with a barrel on the pavement, about a foot from the prison wall, rather better than half-way up the street—the wall was blown down next day, just at the place where I imagine the barrel to have been—one man was standing with his back to the wall and the other was leaning over the side of the barrel—I saw a truck two or three yards from the barrel—they left the barrel there, came towards me and passed me, one going towards Rosoman Street and the other towards Bowling Green Lane—Rosoman Street turns out of Corporation Lane, and Bowling Green Lane is a straight line from it—I was about a quarter of the way up Corporation Lane when they met me and passed me, and after they got past me I turned and looked after them, and one of them turned round and laughed at me—that was O'Keefe, to the best of my belief, he was the one who was leaning over the barrel—I went on through Corporation Lane, and as I passed the barrel I saw that some substance projecting from it was alight; it burnt blue and then went out—a woman and child were near the place—I passed on and took no further notice—I observed the truck as I passed, it was two or three yards off in the road, and the words "To let" were painted on the back of it—the barrel was about a foot from the prison wall as I passed by—there is pavement on the prison wall side as well as the other—there was a bit of black oil cloth on the truck—I went about my work, and saw nothing more.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Had you ever seen the person you believe to be O'Keefe before that day? A. No—when I saw him at Bow Street he was not in the dock, but he was brought out of a cell and put in the dock for the purpose of identification—it was as he turned his face, on the day before the explosion, that I saw him, I did not notice any more of him—I have never said anything more than "To the best of my belief"—judging from that glance I believe him to be the man.

COURT. Q. You did not notice him otherwise? A. No, I only know the coat and hat he had on, it was a brown coat and a black wideawake hat.

COURT. Q. Have you ever seen Timothy Desmond before you saw him with the truck? A. No, not to my belief; he might have passed me, but not to my knowledge.

Wednesday, April 22nd 1868.

THOMAS REEVES CLIFFORD . I am a warder in the Clerkenwell House of Detention, and also a cook—in December I was living at 11, Corporation Row—it is opposite the Bell public-house, next to Woodbridge Street—on the afternoon of the 12th of December, I left the prison and went home a little before 4 o'clock—I went to my window at about 4.7 or 4.10, a few minutes past 4 o'clock—I saw three men, two dragging a truck—there was a barrel on it, with something black over it—the men were coming up Corporation Lane to Coburg Street—they left the prison, and passed my house—the truck was in the road—as they passed they were in conversation—a third man was on the pavement—the men with the truck went to the left into Coburg Street—I saw them turn into it—I could only see them turn into Coburg

Street—I saw them look back at the prison wall several times—they were smoking—I believe that Timothy Desmond and William Desmond were the two men who were drawing the truck—(the prisoners were ordered to stand up. The witness pointed to Timothy Desmond and English)—I mean Timothy Desmond and English—I did not know either of the men before—I should think that it was a 36 gallon cask that I saw—I recognized the third man on the pavement as Allen, who was discharged—I lost sight of them in Coburg Street.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. I understand that you saw them from the window of your house? A. Yes, the truck was coming from the direction of Rosoman Street, going towards Woodbridge Street—I know a carman in Stratton's Place—I believe Timothy Desmond and English were the two men, but cannot swear to them.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. What floor were you on? A. The second floor—I saw their side faces—I had not seen them before.

Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Had they tall hats on, or wideawakes? A. All three had tall hats on.

HANNAH GILLES . In December I was living in 3, St. James's Buildings—the night before the explosion I was going through Woodbridge Street, about 9.50—I saw the second prisoner in the dock (O'Keefe)—he was in the middle of the street—he was going towards Aylesbury Street, from Corporation Lane.

RICHARD MASKELL . I was a warder in the House of Detention in December—I remember taking the prisoners out to exersise at 2.45, on the afternoon of 12th December. (MR. GREENE objected to the evidence which this witness was about to give, as it related to what was done by Burke inside the prison, and not to any of the prisoners now upon their trial. MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL offered the evidence in proof of a conspiracy to aid Burke in his escape, in pursuance of which conspiracy, the acts done by the prisoners were carried out. THE COURT considered the evidence admissible.) Burke was a prisoner in the House of Detention, on a charge of treason-felony—Burke was in the exercising yard, walking round the circle with the other prisoners—he was in the yard near Corporation Lane—there was not a separation between that yard and the other yard—persons could pass from one to the other—Casey was in the adjoining yard at that time—in the yard in which Burke was exercising there were two rings of prisoners—Burke was in the outer ring—I observed him fall out of the ring against the wall, at the farthest point from the scene of the explosion, and near the Governor's garden—the spot was the farthest Burke could get from the outer wall—he took off his sidespring boot, wiped his foot and stocking with his hand slowly, at the same time looking up at the houses in Corporation Lane—he then put his boot on, fell in the rank, and walked on with the other prisoners—this was done very slowly—it was about 4.2—the next day I saw the effects of the explosion—there was nothing from the explosion thrown near the spot where Burke went, nothing within five or six yards of it.

WALTER HOLGATE . I am not quite 14 years of age—I work at a greengrocer's, at the corner of Corporation Lane—I remember the 12th of December—on that day I was running round the St. James's Buildings, a small court near Corporation Lane—I saw a barrel on the pavement, and a truck in the road—I asked Charles Moseley to roll it—that was a little after three o'clock—I know the time, because my usual dinner-hour was one, and I did not go till two that day, and did not get back till three.

GEORGE RANGER (Police Constable). On the 13th of December I was on duty in the inside of the House of Detention—I know the prisoner Anne Justice; I saw her at the House of Detention that day—the first time was 12.20 o'clock—she came to the gate and asked to see Casey—I cannot say whether she had anything with her; Mr. Worth, the warder, asked her if she was a relation of Casey, and she said, "Yes, I am his aunt"—she went inside the prison, and came out at twenty-five minutes to one o'clock—when she left she went to the Prince of Wales beer-house, which is just opposite the gate of the prison—she there spoke to a man named Allen—afterwards Mrs. Barry or Berry came, at about one o'clock, and said that she was "Burke's sister"—she was admitted—that was at one o'clock—in company with another constable I followed her, when she left at 1.50, as far as Fleet Street, where I lost her—she drove up in a cab to the prison, and left in a cab—I returned to the House of Detention by Short's Buildings—I saw Anne Justice there—that was at ten minutes to three o'clock—I went to the prison and made a communication to Mr. Moore, the warder—soon after that I saw Anne Justice again—Timothy Desmond was with her—they were opposite the Prince of Wales beer-house—I should say this was at a quarter or twenty minutes past three o'clock—while they were together I saw Allen and a man not in custody come down Stratton's Ground—Allen left the strange man and went and spoke to Anne Justice, and then Timothy Desmond joined the strange man and went down Short's Buildings—that goes towards Bridewell Walk—it leads to Corporation Lane—I should think this was about twenty-five minutes to four o'clock—I spoke to Goldsmith, the constable—I was in the House of Detention when the explosion took place—I was in the lodge gate and was blown down—I said to Worth, "Let me out," and I went out—when I got out I saw police constable Sutton, and said, "Come on," and we went into St. James's Walk, through Short's Buildings—I there saw Anne Justice running side by side with Allen—I should think at that time they were about twenty yards from the prison—I knocked Allen down and took him into custody—Justice was also taken—I saw Timothy Desmond running from the direction of the Prince of Wales beer-shop—he was coming from Short's Buildings to St. James's Walk—he was stopped by Sutton and taken into custody—he was wearing a black hat with a hat band—it was an ordinary high hat—the prisoners were taken into the prison yard—I went with them—we had a scuffle in the prison yard, Desmond and Allen were rough, both their hats fell off their heads—I put Allen on his back, and I think Desmond was put on his back—the two hats were picked up by Worth—the next morning, when they were removed from the House of Detention to Bow Street, I saw Timothy Desmond wearing a white billycock hat.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. It was a soft felt hat was it not? A. Yes, such a hat as a man might put in his pocket—I am positive it was about 1.40, when I left the prison—there is a clock there, and I can speak to the times with accuracy—in the door of the prison there are three bars through which the warder can look—it is the rule from 12 to 2 o'clock that relations can visit the prisoners—I am not an officer of the prison—the gate looks down St. James's Walk—you can see three or four doors down—after Anne Justice left I looked through the wicket—when I so looked Timothy Desmond was not at the corner—I was in and out of the prison several times, but I did not see him till after I came back from following Mrs. Barry—it was about 3.25 or 3.30, that I spoke to Goldsmith—when Inspector Thomson

arrived, about 3, Timothy Desmond was not by the Prince of Wales beer-shop—Allen was there—I saw police constable Sutton before the prisoners were taken—when I came back from following Mrs. Barry, I came through Short's Buildings—Timothy Desmond appeared to have been drinking, but he was not drunk or reeling about—Sutton took him into the prison—I did not use considerable violence—I did not give Desmond a black eye.

Cross-examined by Mr.M. WILLIAMS. Q. Was the 13th the first time Anne Justice had been in the prison? A. I believe it was—when I saw her running, it was on the other side of the prison from where the explosion took place.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . Q. Did you speak to Timothy Desmond at all? A. No, nor did I hear him speak.

WILLIAM ALFRED WORTH . I am a warder in the House of Detention, and was on duty at the entrance gate on 13th December—I saw Anne Justice there between 12.30 and 1 o'clock—I had never seen her before—she asked if she could see the prisoner Casey—I said "Yes"—I passed her in—I had orders from the governor to pass the friends of Burke and Casey in differently from those of others, without a ticket, which is the number of their cells—she was there about a quarter of an hour—when she went out she stood about the place for a considerable time—I could see through the wicket the whole of the time—I remained there till 2.10, and returned at 3.10 o'clock—I went off duty during that time—I saw her there when I went off—when I returned I saw her there still, speaking to Allen—I did not know him before—since that I have seen him several times—after I returned, I first saw Timothy Desmond between 3.30 and 3.45, he came from the direction of Rosoman Street, along Short's-Gardens, towards the prison—Allen and Justice were then standing at the corner of the Prince of Wales beer-house—they joined their heads together, as though they were conversing together as friends.

COURT. Q. I want to know whether they joined their heads in the ordinary way, as persons conversing familiarly, or as though there was some secret mystery? A. I should imagine, by the way they were close together, that they had some secret—there were several people about, and perhaps they did not wish them to hear.

MR. POLAND. Q. How long were they together like that? A. Some minutes—they then dispersed—Desmond went back again the same way towards Corporation Lane, and Allen went the contrary way, towards Stratton's Ground—they left Aune Justice at the corner, where she stood until—the explosion took place—it was about a quarter of an hour after they separated that the explosion took place—I was at the gate—Allen had then returned to Justice—when the explosion took place they ran up St. James's Walk—I let Ranger out, and he overtook them—Timothy Desmond was also brought in—he wore a black hat—I should say he had been drinking—I saw the scuffle, I opened the door and called to bring them in.

Cross-emmined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Are you one of the chief warders? A. One of the senior warders—prisoners are kept in separate cells, and are prevented from having communication with each other—Timothy Desmond came down Short's Buildings—I can't tell where ho came from—I say that he came from Rosoman Street, because that is the principal thoroughfare.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. You say you saw Anne Justice at ten minutes past two, did you see her continuously from the time she

left the prison at ten minutes past two. A. Yes—I do not recollect asking her what relation she was to Casey; she would be asked at the next gate—I might have done so—I have no recollection that she replied that she was his aunt—I said before the Magistrate "Nothing was said to me by Justice as to her relationship to Casey."

THOMAS KNOWLES (Policeiman G 200). I was specially on duty at the gate of the House of Detention, in December, while Burke and Casey were there—a Mrs. Barry or Berry used to come there, purporting to be Burke's sister—I was at the gate when Anne Justice applied for admission there on 13th December—she asked to see Casey, and said to the warder that she was his aunt—I saw her go from the prison at a quarter or ten minutes to one o'clock—Mrs. Barry came there about one, and left about twenty-five minutes to two.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. Was it to Worth that that was said about the aunt? A. Yes—I am certain of that.

JOHN GOLDSMITH (Policeman G. 264). On 13th December I was on duty outside the House of Detention—I saw Timothy Desmond, Anne Justice, and the man Allen, at a quarter-past three o'clock, opposite the gate of the prison, and by the Prince of Wales beer-shop—they stopped there for five minutes, and Allen then left—he walked up Stratton Yard and was gone eight or ten minutes, then he returned with another man not in custody, and rejoined the other two at the corner of St. James's Walk—they stopped together for about five minutes—Desmond and the man not in custody walked down Short's Buildings—they turned to the right, through Clerkenwell Close, in the direction of Corporation Lane—they turned to the right, by the Jolly Coopers public-house, into Clerkenwell Close, into Bridewell Walk and Corporation Lane—I then spoke to Ranger and Sutton, and went back to watch Allen and Justice—I did not know at that time that Allen was in communication with the police—ten or twelve minutes after Desmond and the other man left, the explosion took place, and Allen and Justice ran away—I followed them, and Desmond came running round the corner; he had been drinking.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Were several constables on duty round the House of Detention? A. Yes—I was on duty in Short's Buildings—Ranger was next to me, and then Sutton—I did not see Knowles, he was in plain clothes—Anne Justice stood at the corner of St. James's Walk—Sutton was then standing by the Jolly Coopers—I did not see Timothy Desmond, Anne Justice, and Allen trying to get into the public-house, nor did I see either of them drink, or see beer brought out.

AMBROSE SUTTON (A R 243). On the day of the explosion I was on duty in plain clothes at the House of Detention—I saw Anne Justice leave the prison, and saw Timothy Desmond about 3.0 in the afternoon—I did not speak to him—he was at the corner of St. James's Walk—he joined Anne Justice, and afterwards left her, and came down Short's Buildings towards me—he went up Bridewell Walk, and turned down Corporation Lane—I followed him, but lost sight of him for two or three minutes at the corner of Corporation Lane—I came up on the opposite side to see whether he was gone by Bowling Green Lane, and looked round the corner of Corporation Lane—I saw him coming back, and saw a truck and a barrel about four or five yards behind him, in Corporation Lane—the barrel was about half on and half off the pavement, and the handle stood up, not quite half a yard from the prison wall—he came towards me and turned down Bridewell Walk—the

explosion took place about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after that—I did not go into Corporation Lane; I was standing at the corner of Bowling Green Lane, near the public-house—I followed Desmond into Short's Buildings—I lost sight of him there, looking to see if Anne Justice was at the corner of St. James's Walk—I turned to the right, to see where he was gone to, but I did not see him—at the time of the explosion I had gone back towards Corporation Lane to look for him—I was fifteen yards from the corner of Corporation Lane, and I was thrown down—I got up and ran to Short's Buildings, and as I got to the corner of, St. James's Walk I saw Ranger—Anne Justice was then running away, and she and Allen were taken into custody—as we were returning to the prison I saw Timothy Desmond running round the corner of Short's Buildings, from St. James's Walk, towards Clerkenwell Green, away from the prison—I stopped him, catching hold of him with my left hand—a person assisted me, and he was taken, with the other prisoners—I had been on duty in plain clothes the best part of the day, and to the best of my belief I had seen O'Keefe come from St. James's Walk, from Short's Buildings, down Bridewell Walk, towards Corporation Lane, between 3 and 4 that afternoon; he was alone.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. About what time had you the communication from Ranger? A. About 3.20, and I followed Timothy Desmond directly afterwards, it might be three or four minutes—I then saw him go up Bridewell Walk, and turn to the right, down Corporation Lane—on coming back he turned to the right, round the Jolly Coopers—he had been drinking, but he was not drunk—I did not say before the Magistrate that he pretended to be drunk—I said he was not drunk—there is a urinal opposite the John of Jerusalem.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. You have spoken to day, as you have always spoken, to the best of your belief, with regard to O'Keefe? A. Yes—I will not positively swear to him; he was charged, discharged, and subsequently taken again.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You say that opposite the John of Jerusalem there is a urinal? A. Yes, right opposite, at the corner of Bowling Green Lane—when I saw Timothy Desmond turn back from Corporation Lane, he was not opposite the urinal; he passed on the prison wall side, and I was on the urinal side.

COURT. Q. You had been there all the day, I understand? A. Yes, watching Anne Justice and Allen—both Desmond and Justice could see me—I was in plain clothes—I do not know that they took much notice of me; they were looking down—they saw the same man standing there all day—Desmond had not an opportunity of seeing that I was following him the first time, going up Corporation Lane, but on the second occasion, when I saw the barrel and the truck, he must have seen me—at the distance I was, I did not see anything in the shape of a fusee stuck in the barrel—I was fifty yards from it, or more—there were five or six, perhaps seven men, in uniform, and three in plain clothes—the same men did not perambulate there all day; we changed—I do not know the arrangements that were made with the plain-clothes men.

ISSAC ALLUM . I am a journeyman wheelwright, working at Bucklebury, near Reading. On 13th December I was in London, and had been to the Cattle Show, Islington—I left at 3 o'clock, went and had some refreshment, which took up about twenty minutes, and I went then near Clerkenwell

Detention House, on my way to Blackfriars Bridge—I was in Corporation Lane, and saw a man coming up with a truck, and a barrel in it, towards me—I was going towards Farringdon Street—the man turned the truck to the left, and shot it back against the prison wall—another man then came across the street, and assisted him to take the barrel—he threw a cloth over it, and the truck went on in front of me, down Corporation Lane, whecled by the man who brought it—the barrel was then against the wall—the man who threw the cloth over the barrel crossed the street, and stood at the comer of a court on the opposite side of the road—I passed him as I went on my way, and saw him looking after the truck as it went away—two other men were standing in the court or passage; that I saw as I went by—Barrett was the man who was looking after the truck, and who assisted with the truck, and threw the cloth over the barrel—William Desmond is like one of the men standing in the passage, but I cannot say positively—I was twice before the Magistrate, and on the second occasion I saw Barrett, and identified him—his appearance was then different—when I saw him by the barrel his beard was cut off away from his chin; he had long red whiskers, and a very slight moustache, if any—before the Magistrate, he appeared as if all his face had been shaved about a month previously, and his beard and whiskers were a month old since growing—about two minutes after passing the men, I heard the explosion.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Do you speak of a court, or a passage? A. Not a covered passage; it merely led to some court.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. The 13th December was not a bright day? A. No—it was nearly 4 o'clock when I passed down Corporation Lane—I then saw the men coming towards me from the direction of Corporation Lane—I said, before the Magistrate, that I thought Allen was one of the men, and I think so still—Barrett's hair was cut out under his chin; he had not a beard.

HENRY BIRD . I am a dairyman, of Turnmill Street, Clerkenwell—on 13th December, I was serving milk in Corporation Lane, at Mrs. Parr's, No. 6, and at other houses—it was about 3.45 when I was at Mrs. Parr's—I then saw a truck coming along with three men with it—it was brought about opposite No. 3A, then it was turned round, and backed into the gutter—it came from Bowling Green Lane; but it was in Corporation Lane I first saw it—two men were drawing it, and one walking by the side—the two men turned it half round opposite No. 3A., just past the entrance of St. James's Passage—it was run back into the gutter, and the barrel fell out of itself towards the prison wall—one man spoke with a rough Irish voice to the one with the truck; I thought it was a signal to go on; it was not in English, or I should have understood it, and the truck was taken away by one of the men, back the way it came—one man twisted the barrel round, flung a mackintosh or tarpaulin over it, and walked away—the barrel was then on the pavement, near the wall, but at the edge of the kerb—two men wore there when the tarpaulin was thrown over the barrel; both then crossed the road, and went up St. James's Passage, and I saw no more of them—I was then, I think, at No. 5, Corporation Lane—I saw next a gentleman, in appearance, standing on the pavement by the prison wall—after the man had left the barrel this gentleman walked along by the prison wall till he had passed me, and then he crossed the road—he was not one of the three men—I saw him at the time the others were putting down the barrel at the Woodbridge Street end of Corporation Lane, the opposite end from which the men came—he

was standing still, with both hands in his pockets—after the two men went into St. James's Passage he walked towards the barrel, passed me, and crossed the road, so that I only saw his side face—I never saw his full face—he then re-crossed the road directly, and went to the barrel—he looked at the head of the barrel, as if he were looking for a name or a number—the tarpaulin was across the belly of the barrel, and he could see the head without meddling with the tarpaulin—I saw him then take a fusee or match from his pocket, strike a light, and apply it to the head of the barrel—I saw it light something, and then he pulled the tarpaulin over the light, and walked into the passage opposite—I lost sight of him—I went into Japanner's Yard then, and-served two customers—that yard is at the Woodbridge Street end of Corporation Lane—I think Mr. Crump lives there—I then came out into Corporation Lane again—I had a horse and cart with me; it was standing in the wide part, where three or four turnings meet, at the end of Corporation Lane—I there met the constable Moriarty, and spoke to him—I then went to the cart, and led the horse into Coburg Street—Moriarty walked towards the barrel after I spoke to him, and very shortly, perhaps not more than a minute, the explosion took place—I recognize Barrett as the man that put the light to the barrel—I cannot make any mistake—he was then dressed differently to what he is now—he had a long brown coat down to the calves of his legs, and a high hat—I saw him next at Millbank, when he was differently dressed, and his whiskers were off—he then had a different coat and a grey felt hat with a big brim—on 13th December, he wore long whiskers, which came down here, and had a flush colour on the side of his face, his whiskers were a kind of sand colour, rather fair and long—at Millbank I saw nine or ten men, and I thought at first that O'Neil was the man who fired the barrel—afterwards, when I turned Barrett round, I knew him directly—I saw his side face—I never saw him full face on the 13th December, and I did not recognize him, full face with short whiskers, at Millbank—I recognised him by his side face, and said I was very sorry I had made the mistake, for Barrett was the man and no other—I am now sure Barrott is the man—I have not the slightest doubt whatever—I believe that Timothy Desmond was one of the three men with the truck—I am not positive whether he was wheeling it or alongside it, but he is one of the three who were with it.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes; I was examined by the Coronet before I went before the Magistrate—I was at the House of Detention on the Saturday afternoon—I then saw certain persons, whom I identified though I did not say so, because I was very ill at the time, through the explosion, and I did not feel confidence in myself—they asked me if I knew any of them, and I said I did not, but I had an idea—on the 28th, when I was before the Coroner, I believe I said I did not like to swear to any of the men—I was examined twice at Bow Street—the first time was after I had been examined before the Coroner; that was after I had been examined by Sir Thomas Henry, at Bow Street—I did not then say, "Timothy Desmond very much resembles one of the men who was assisting drawing the truck"—I believe I did say that—I went-to Millbank twice, and I saw him there—I also saw him in the dock at Bow Street—there were several witnesses called before I was—on the second occasion, when I was before the Magistrate, I said Timothy Desmond was a man who was with the truck.

Q. Then, on the first occasion, before Sir Thomas Henry, you said he

resembled the man, and on the second you said he was the man? A. I said I believed so; I did not swear it. (The witness's deposition stated; "I saw Timothy Desmond wheeling the truck")—I did not say two minutes ago that he was one of the men walking on the pavement—I will not swear to him, but according to the best of my belief he is one of the men—there were three men with the truck—one went towards Bowling Green Lane; and two of them went up St. James's Passage—Timothy Desmond was one of those who went up St. James's Passage—it was 3.45 when the truck set down the barrel—the explosion took place quite five minutes later.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. How many men have you, at different times, identified as the person who lighted the barrel? A. Only one—I did say at Bow Street that William Desmond was like the man who fired the barrel; I said he very much resembled the man, but I felt confident in my own mind he was not the man—he very much resembled him in face, and I believe I used words which led the Magistrate to believe he was the man—I went to Millbank, and saw O'Neil—I first said he was the man—I afterwards said it was Barrett—I did say he had a long beard—he had a long beard at the time he fired the barrel, and long whiskers coming down here—I never saw his chin—I saw his" side-face—O'Neil is not so stout a man as Barrett—he had long carroty whiskers—I believe he had a beard—his hair was about the same colour as his whiskers, but not quite so red; it resembles William Desmond's—the first two persons I said fired the barrel had hair rather differently coloured from that of Barrett, not quite so red—I was near enough to see the flush on Barrett's cheek—the man that crossed over was standing there at the time the men put the barrel down, some distance up on the same side of the way, about twelve yards from the barrel—Barrett did not take the barrel out of the truck—he wore the same clothes at Millbank as he has now, at least I think so—I am positive as to the clothes he wore when he fired the barrel—there were a lot of persons present when I saw Barrett at Millbank—I recognized him directly he turned round, and I altered my decision there and then.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Had you a very severe shock by the explosion? A. Yes, and I had not recovered from that on the Saturday.

COURT. Q. Did it affect your memory? A. No; it would not prevent me from identifying—I felt very nervous, and very much frightened—when I saw Timothy Desmond on the Saturday it was in the cell, by gaslight—I was examined before two different Coroners—I was five or six times before one—the prisoners were not present—when I saw the man in Corporation Lane I only saw his half face—he had his hat over his eyes, and his hands in his pockets—when I said Desmond was like the man, I said he was a little stouter—I had not then seen Barrett—at Millbank none of the men were pointed out to me—nine or ten stood round the cell, and I looked at them—I believe O'Neil was the first I picked out—I did not think William Desmond was the man: when I said he resembled him, I wished the Magistrate to understand that he resembled him, though I was not confident he was the man—I might have said I did not believe he was the man—I did not mean him to understand that he was the man—he resembles him in features; I don't think he does resemble him, because one's whiskers were more carroty than the other's.

Q. In your judgment is there any likeness between the two men now? A. Well, I cannot say there is any particular likeness; there is not an unlikeness.

Q. You have spoken of three men; does your evidence come

to any more than this, that if one of those three men is the man, Barrett is the man? A. Barrett is the man—I am certain Barrett is the man, and no other—I believe there was a reward—I saw it on the prison walls on the Sunday after the explosion—I do not think I thought anything about the reward, no more than I do now.

MR. GREENE. Q. Was not Barrett brought out of the cell, and asked his name and age, and then sent back to the cell, and was it not after that you identified him? A. I identified him before he went to the cell; I knew him directly—I did not say I turned him round, he turned himself round, and when I saw his neck and sideface and hair, I identified him at once—I turned O'Neil round—when I went into the cell, after having identified O'Neil, I left the cell without identifying Barrett—I am not sure whether I left the cell—I identified Barrett in the cell, as soon as he turned round—Barrett was not called out of his cell before I identified him—after I identified him I asked to be allowed to see him again—after I had identified him I blieve he went back into his own cell.

COURT. Q. Why did you ask to see him again? A. To make me a little more confident—his whiskers were all off and he looked quite a different man from what he was on the day of the explosion—as soon as he turned round I identified him at once—I asked to see him again, and he was brought out of the cell, and I saw him in the passage—he was not asked any questions, I am quite sure—I never heard his name mentioned.

Q. Had you heard that Barrett and O'Neil had been arrested. A. I heard two had been arrested, but I did not know what their names were—I knew there were two fresh prisoners taken, and I was taken to identify them—I believe it was Barrett, I had not heard who it was, to the test of my recollection.

ELIZABETH CRAWLEY . I am the wife of Mr. Joseph Crawky—on Friday, 13th December last, I was in Corporation Lane, about 3.45, going from the direction of Rosoman Street, in the direction of Woodbridge Street—as I turned into Corporation Lane I saw on the pavement what appeared to me to be a large packing-case, covered over with a cloth—it was close to the prison wall, and opposite the house No. 3a—as I was going along I saw a man standing opposite the package, and close to the front of it—I also saw two little boys standing close beside the barrel—two men were standing at the opposite corner of the street—I saw one of these two throw something from St. James's Passage to the man at the barrel—one of the little boys stooped and picked up something—I am not able to say what it was, I was not close enough—I continued to walk on—I got nearly close to the barrel, and I crossed over to the opposite side of the way to avoid going past it—it occupied nearly the whole of the pavement, and there was not room to pass on that side—when I did pass I saw that it was a barrel, and that there was a squib in the head of it—that squib was burning at the time I saw it—I met a policeman near the house No. 5—he did not quite reach the barrel when the explosion took place—I was blown down by the explosion—the barrel was opposite the house No. 3, and I was blown against the door of No. 5—all my clothes were nearly blown off.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Did you notice whether the men at the end of St. James's Place went down the passage? A. I did not—I have said one of the men standing there was like the man Allen.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. Did you not state before the Magistrate that you thought he was the man? A. Yes, from his general

appearance I thought he was the man who threw something towards the man at the barrel—I do not know what became of what was thrown across the street—I saw one of the little boys pick something up directly after.

CHARLES MOSELY . I am getting on for eleven—I lived at 2, Corporation Lane—my father is a watch-spring polisher—on the day before the explosion I was playing in Corporation Lane with a boy named Wheeler—I saw a barrel against the wall of the prison, opposite our house—there was a truck there—I did not see any men there—I went and touched the barrel—after that I saw some men put it in a truck and take it off—there were two or three men—I did not see where they came from—next day I stopped at home from school to mind a child, and after my mother came in I went out to play in Corporation Lane—I went down St. James's Passage—at the end I saw three men standing—as I came down I saw a man throw something like a white ball over the prison wall—when they had done that, they ran up the passage to St. James's Buildings, and round to Rosoman Street—they all three came back again to the corner of the court in Corporation Lane—from our house I can see the prisoners walk round, and I had been in the habit of looking at them—after the men came back I went up stairs to the second floor front room to look at the prisoners, but they were not at exercise that afternoon—I noticed a barrel lying cross ways on the pavement, one end near the wall, one end near the kerb—I did not see any truck with it—after I had seen the barrel, I saw one of the three men who were standing at the corner of the court go to the barrel—he put a squib in the barrel and set a light to it—he struck a match, and it did not light; so he struck another—I did not see where he got it from—two or three little boys were standing beside the barrel—when he struck the second match he set light to the squib in the barrel—the other men were then standing at the corner of the court—these were the same men that I had seen before in the court—I saw a policeman coming from Gloucester Street—he got to about No. 4 when the explosion took place—it knocked me over and injured me, and I knew no more until I was taken out by the fire-escape man, and taken to St. Bartholomew's—I was twice before the Magistrate—I had been to Millbank to see some prisoners. (The Prisoners stood up.)

COURT. Q. Have you seen one of these men before? A. This end one (Barrett); he lit the barrel.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. On the 12th you were with your master's cart, weren't you? A. No; I have no master—it was between 11 and 12 when I saw the barrel on the 12th; I am quite sure about that—they took it away on the truck towards Woodbridge Street.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. You were examined twice at the police-Court? A. Yes; I did not at first describe the man who lighted the powder—I was then taken to Millbank—the police never gave me any description of the man I was to identify at Millbank—there was a number of men before me, about twenty, and I picked Barrett out—I stated to the Magistrate that my reason for believing Barrett to be the man was that he had little eyes, and they went in—he had a long moustache—he had it shaved off when I saw him.

COURT. Q. What do you mean by a moustache? A. Here (stroking his chin).

MR. GREENE. Q. Did you say anything about his chin? A. I said he had hair on his chin, and long whiskers—his beard came down to about here (below the chin)—I always thought that hair on the upper lip

was whiskers—I was not told anything about the man, or his whiskers, or his eyes, before I saw him—I do not say anything as to the other men.

THOMAS WHEELER . I am going on for 12—I lived at 14, Plummer's Place, Corporation Lane—on the day of the explosion I was playing in the lane with a boy named Charley, about 4 o'clock—I saw a tub on the pavement—two men were on the other side, at the corner of St. James's Passage—I did not see the tub put there—there was a man near it—he put a squib in, and lighted it—one of the other gentlemen on the other side chucked him a box of fusees, and he lit one of those; then he ran away—the first one (Barrett) lit the squib—when the explosion took place I was standing at the corner of Rosoman Street, and I was blown down by the explosion, and had my finger blown off—before the explosion I saw a boy pick up a squib—he picked it up on the pavement beside the tub, and ran away with it.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. How long was it from the time you saw the tub to when the explosion took place? A. I don't know; it was not quite, five minutes—I was at the corner of Rosoman Street the whole time.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. Did the man who lighted the barrel come up Corporation Lane? A. Yes, and walked straight to the barrel; and then he lighted it—when I identified Barrett it was in the yard at Bow Street—I was taken by a policeman, and told to pick out the man I knew—Barrett was standing by himself—at first I turned away from the man without knowing him; then a policeman took hold of me, and took me back again to look at Barrett.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Where was that? A. In the yard at Bow Street—there was more than one man—they were all standing in a row—I do not know how many there was—I saw them all—I looked at Barrett all over, and then said he was the man—I had turned my head away, and the policeman told me to look at them.

COURT. Q. Why did you turn your head away? A. Because I did not like to see them—a policeman told me to pick out the man that I knew, and not to turn my head away—I looked at them three times, and then picked him out—about a quarter of an hour after that I went to Bow Street, and gave my evidence—the man lighted two or three matches before he put the one to the squib—I saw a boy pick up a squib—when I went to Bow Street to see the men I was frightened of them—I was hurt by the explosion.

JOHN SMITH . I am nine years of age, my father is a printer, and works for Messrs. Spottiswoode—on the day of the explosion I was playing with Tommy Wheeler in Corporation Lane—I saw a barrel, and went up and raised the cloth on it—I saw three men up a little court about five minutes after I had lifted up the cloth—one of the men went near the barrel and put a squib in—I saw him light it—one of the men in the passage had thrown him a box of matches—the man at the barrel struck a fusee and lighted the squib—the first squib would not light, and ho threw it down—I ran and picked it up, a woman spoke to me, and I went down towards the public-house—the man that lit the squib ran to the court and went away—the other men also ran—I ran away at the same time—I got just round the prison wall when the explosion occurred, and I fell down two times—I dropped the squib when I got to the Jolly Coopers.

JAMES CAPE . I am one of the warders at the House of Detention—on the 12th of December I was out in the yard when the prisoners were exercising—Burke

was among them—in the course of that afternoon a white indiarubber ball came over the wall, about two or three minutes after four o'clock—I picked it up, and next day gave it to my children—it came from the end of Corporation Lane close to the end of the exercising yard—I was at the House of Detention as a warder during the time Burke was there—I saw a female, named Barry or Berry, who used to come to see him every day while he was in my charge—she Thought him underclothing and food, and she took dirty things away—it was part of my duty to show her to the cell—it was my duty to search the things that were brought in clean before they were given to Burke—after Burke was in my charge, and before the explosion, I remember Mrs. Barry coming in with some things that had been washed—I went with her to the door of the cell—I examined the things before I delivered them to Burke—I examined a stocking.

MR. GREENE. objected to this evidence and the consideration of it was postponed.

Thursday, April 23rd, 1868.

JOHN DAVIS . I live at 48, King's Cross Road, and am an engineer—on 13th December I was fixing a grating at 7, Corporation Lane, the end house, opposite to the Bell public-house—I heard something, and looking, in the direction of the goal, I saw a cask against the wall—three boys were on one side of it and a man on the other—the man was kneeling down looking at the head of the barrel, with his back towards me—a constable passed down the road, and I then saw fire coming from the barrel—it looked like a squib—the man ran away across the road, as, if he was going up some court—I did not see his face at all—he had a sort of brown overcoat on, a high silk hat, and was of gentlemanly appearance—the policeman turned back towards me, the boys ran away at the same time as the man, towards Bowling-green Lane, I suppose through seeing the fire, and then the explosion took place.

JAMES THOMPSON (Police Inspector). I arrested Burke on 20th November—at the station I searched him, and found a little glass bulb, with some substance in it in his, possession.

MR. GREENE objected to this evidence, on the ground that it took place in the absence of the prisoners, and that the contents of a letter with secret writing, in it, referred to by Mullany, had not been made evidence, because Mullany could not read writing, and therefore could not know what were the contents of that document.

THE COURT considered that as Mullany had given secondary evidence of the contents of that letter, and that evidence had been received, no objection being taken at the time, the evidence proposed to be submitted by the Attorney-General was admissible, apart from any reference to the letter.

JAMES THOMPSON (continued). After the arrest of Burke I searched him at the station, and found this glass bulb, containing some substance—I delivered it to Dr. Odling, and he returned it to me—I have since given it up, to be returned to Burke—the solicitor applied for it.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. We have heard that a man named Allen was taken into custody, and made two statements; were they subsequently signed? A. He made two statements to me, and one to Mr. Brannan, in reference to persons he had seen on the day of the explosion.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Were you at the prison almost at the time of the explosion? A. I arrived at 3.30, and left at 3.50 or 3, 45—I saw Timothy Desmond, with Anne Justice, at the corner of St. James's

Walk, about 3.30—he looked hard at me and a witness who was with me—I remained in the prison about twenty minutes—when I came out Timothy Desmond was still at the public-house—he came out into the road, and looked into the cab—it was a Hansom cab and a good horse—the witness was still with me, and he made a remark about Timothy Desmond—we drove, in consequence of a communication I had received in the prison, to the nearest police-station, by way of Rosoman Street, and had got sixty or seventy yards past the John of Jerusalem, when the explosion took place—I got out of the cab and ran back—people were running in all directions—I did not see Timothy Desmond.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. When you came out with the person from Birmingham, which road did you take, St. James's Walk? A. I think the name of it is Short's Buildings, by Bridewell Walk, into Rosoman Street, and were about seventy yards up that street when we heard the explosion—the barrel staves found after the explosion we delivered to Dr. Odling.

COURT. Q. When you got into the cab, Timothy Desmond was in front of the prison? A. He was close to the Prince of Wales—he would not have had time to go to where the barrel was, between the time of my coming out of the prison and the explosion—he appeared to be drunk—there was a good horse in the cab, and I directed the cabman to drive with all speed—a person on foot would not go by the same road as a cab; he could get there by a shorter route than the cab; but still I think Desmond had barely time to get to the spot where the barrel was—if he did go there, he must have gone and got back before I returned to the prison after the explosion.

JAMES CAPE (re-examined). Mrs. Barry used to come and see Burke when he was in my charge, bring food, and take away dirty linen and bring clean clothes—I examined the things at the door of the cell, and on one occasion, in one of the stockings, found some pieces of green stuff in the toe—I took those pieces and gave the clothes to Burke—I reported the fact, and gave the green stuff to Moore, the chief warder—I did not inform either Mrs. Barry or Burke that I had taken them out of the stocking.

JOHN MOORE . I am chief warder at the House of Detention—I remember Cape giving me the green mineral, which I gave to Dr. Odling—it had broken up into powder while in my possession.

DR. WILLIAM ODLING . I am a chemist—in December last I received from Moore a small sealed glass bulb, containing crystals—the contents were chloride of gold—no analysis was necessary to enable me to tell what it was, but I applied the necessary tests, to be sure—that salt, dissolved in water, makes characters on paper, which are invisible for some length of time; several hours; but they may be rendered visible by several means—copperas brings them out directly—this note (producing one) represents half the page of such writing brought out by copperas—it was written on Tuesday—the writing is never absolutely invisible, if carefully examined, and held up in a certain light; but it is practically so for a few hours—after the expiration of a sufficient time, the writing on the part not treated by copperas would be as visible as the other, the only difference beings that a yellow stain would show where the copperas solution had been applied—writing with chloride of gold never is quite invisible, the change in the glaze of the paper being seen in certain lights and positions—on the 21st of this month I received a paper parcel from Moore—it

contained green copperas, or sulphate of iron—chloride of gold is easily obtained, as it is used in photography, and its property of secret writing is known to chemists—I only referred to one book, and I found it there—a grain or less in solution would be sufficient to write half-a-dozen lines of a note—soon after the explosion, the staves of a barrel were brought to my laboratory—I saw them on 4th January—the barrel had contained petroleum—on the staves I found sulphate of potash, the chief solid product of the explosion of gunpowder—some of the staves were split, and in the cracks there were unexploded grains of gunpowder, which I removed and exploded—I returned the staves to Inspector Thompson—I infer it was a petroleum barrel from the appearance of the staves, the characteristic smell, and the way in which portions of the wood burnt—there was nothing to warrant the conclusion that the explosion had been produced by petroleum.

JOHN MOORE (re-examined). On the afternoon of 13th December, about 2.50, my attention was attracted by Timothy Desmond and Anne Justice being near the prison—I was inside when the explosion took place—the prisoners usually exercised from 3.15 to 4.15 in the afternoon, some in one exercising yard and some in the other, so as to equalize them—both abut on Corporation Lane—on 13th December there was no separation between them but the open corridor of the prison—up to 13th December Burke exercised at that hour; but on that day the hour was, for certain reasons, altered to the morning—the part of the wall blown down had been a gateway made for the convenience of the contractor who, early in 1866, enlarged the prison—when the work was done, the gateway was taken away, and the wall was made good at the end of 1886—the new part of the wall was visible from inside the prison—there is a house near the prison which has a board, visible from the exercising yard, on which is painted "Noted Stout House"—it can be seen from the exercising ground—Smithers is the landlord; it is the Bell beer-house, in Corporation Lane—Burke was lodged in a cell facing the part of the wall blown down, up to within ten minutes of the time of the explosion—he was then removed to another cell, in accordance with a custom of frequently changing the prisoners' cells—I am present when prisoners are received from the police-courts—I produce warrants of remand, of 7th December, of the prisoners Burke and Casey—on that occasion I escorted the prisoners to Bow Street, having previously handed over the prisoners and the warrants to the inspector of police—I received them back the same evening—they first came to the House of Detention on 23rd November, were remanded to 7th December, and then to 14th December.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. On the 13th December the prisoners were exercised early? A. Yes, some few hours before Anne Justice visited Casey—they are only exercised once a day—the names of visitors to prisoners appear in the prison book—I don't know, whether Anne Justice had been to the prison before that day.

COURT. Q. What are the visiting hours? A. From 12 to 2 o'clock, and the time of each visitor is limited to twenty minutes—no notice had been given to the prisoners that the exercise in the morning was instead of that which they usually had in the afternoon—no one had told them that they would not also be exercised in the afternoon: even the officers of the prison would not know—they never are exercised twice, so they would have no reason to suppose they would be taken out again—the prison rules state that prisoners shall be exercised daily—we often have prisoners there six or

even twelve months, for want of bail—prisoners do not communicate with each other—there is no hard labour performed in this prison.

JAMES THOMPSON (re-examined). I arrested Burke on the 20th of November, in the evening, in the neighbourhood of Woburn square—a man named Devany was with me to identify Burke—Casey was with Burke, and a scuffle took place, in which Casey into charge for assaulting the police—the charge-sheet was made out in my presence, and I now produce it—I attended before Sir Thomas Henry and gave evidence against Burke and Casey, Who were remanded—these remand warrants are signed by Sir Thomas Henry, they refer to Burke and Casey.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Have you the warrant upon which Burke was arrested? A. No it was a warrant granted in Dublin, and sent to the Metropoliton police for execution—I have not the sworn information on which that warrant was granted. (The warrant was against Burke for Treason felony.)

WILLIAM SCOT . I am a painter—the day after the explosion I was put in charge of house 5 and 7, in corporation Lane—on December 21st, while walking over the bricks and rubbish of the fallen prison wall in the exercising ground, I found a white ball, which I gave to a policeman named Knowles.

THOMAS KNOWLES . I received the ball from scott, and gave it to Inspector Thompson (both balls produced).

HENDRY MORRIS . I live with my father, in Helen`s Place, Deptford, and am eighteen years of age—I was apprended to Mullany, the tailor, in Sherwood Street—I saw there agreat number of times a person whom I knew as Brown—I saw him (Burke) yesterday in Newgate with Inspector Thompson—I heard that he had been arredted—I know Burnett, Lynch, and Ryan—they used to come from time to time Mullany`s house—I know the prisoner English, who used to come there very often—I have seen him there once or twice when Brown was there—they spoke together, I believe; they were in the same same room—I remembar the explosion—some six weeks before that two persons came to Mullany—I knew them as Mr. Jacksonand Mr. Hastings—Barrett is the man who went by the name of Jackson dined there a few times—they together at Mullany`s—I last saw them at Mullany`s the day before the exlosion—I did not see Hastings after that day—on that day they were there between 11 and 1 o`clock, and Hastings dined there—Jackson left before dinner—after dinner Hastings left—on the day of the explosion I did not see either of them in the morning I heard of the explosion that same evening—Mullany was there when the news came, and he got off the board and went out—he returned in about half an-hour into the workshop—soon after a man named pattern came in and asked for some thread and buttons to sew upon his trousers—I had known pattern before that as coming to Mullany`s—he was a tailor—I noticed that a piece of his right ear was off, that his neck had been washed, and the top of his collar was wet—there was blood on the shirt collar and the wound on his ear was fresh—something was said about the way his ear had been hurt—I had not then seen another man—pattern then went into the back room—when pattern came in Mullany was sitting on the board—soon after I took an iron into the back room put him into the fire—I there saw Jackson Pattern, and Mrs. Mullany was also there: he had followed

contained green copperas, or sulphate of iron—chloride of gold is easily obtained, as it is used in photography, and its property of secret writing is known to chemists—I only referred to one book, and I found it there—a grain or less in solution would be sufficient to write half-a-dozen lines of a note—soon after the explosion, the staves of a barrel were brought to my laboratory—I saw them on 4th January—the barrel had contained petroleum—on the staves I found sulphate of potash, the chief solid product of the explosion of gunpowder—some of the staves were split, and in the cracks there were unexploded grains of gunpowder, which I removed and exploded—I returned the staves to Inspector Thompson—I infer it was a petroleum barrel from the appearance of the staves, the characteristic smell, and the way in which portions of the wood burnt—there was nothing to warrant the conclusion that the explosion had been produced by petroleum.

JOHN MOORE (re-examined). On the afternoon of 13th December, about 2.50, my attention was attracted by Timothy Desmond and Anne Justice being near the prison—I was inside when the explosion took place—the prisoners usually exercised from 3.15 to 4.15 in the afternoon, some in one exercising yard and some in the other, so as to equalize them—both abut on Corporation Lane—on 13th December there was no separation between them but the open corridor of the prison—up to 15th December Burke exercised at that hour; but on that day the hour was, for certain reasons, altered to the morning—the part of the wall blown down had been a gateway made for the convenience of the contractor who, early in 1866, enlarged the prison—when the work was done, the gateway was taken away, and the wall was made good at the end of 1886—the new part of the wall was visible from inside the prison—there is a house the prison which has a board, visible from the exercising yard, on which is painted "Noted Stout House"—it can be seen from the exercising ground—Smithers is the landlord; it is the Bell beer-house, in Corporation Lane—Burke was lodged in a cell facing the part of the wall blown down; up to within ten minutes of the time of the explosion—he was then removed to another cell, in accordance with a custom of frequently changing the prisoners' cells—I am present when prisoner are received from the police-courts—I produce warrants of remand, of 7th December, of the Prisoners Burke and Casey—on that occasion I escorted the prisoners to Bow Street, having previously handed over the prisoners and the warrants to the inspector of police—I received them back the same evening—they first came to the House of Detention on 23rd November, were remanded to 7th December, and then to 14th December.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. On the 13th December the prisoner were exercised early? A. Yes, some few hours before Anne Justice visited Casey—they are only exercised once a day—the names of visitors to prisoner's appear in the prison book—I don't know whether Anne Justice had been to the prison before that day.

COURT. Q. What are the visiting hours? A. From 12 to 2 o'clock, and the, time of each visitor is limited to twenty minutes—no notice had been given to the prisoners that the exercise in the morning was instead of that which they usually had in the afternoon—no one had told them that they would not also be exercised in the afternoon: even the officers of the prison would not know—they never are exercised twice, so they would have no reason to to suppose they would be taken out again—the prison rules state that prisoners shall be exercised daily—we often have prisoners there six or

even twelve months, for want to bail—prisoners do not communicate with each other—there is no hard labour performed in this prison.

JAMES THOMPSON (re-examined). I arrested Burke on the 20th of November, in the evening, in the neighbourhood of Woburn Square—a man named Devany was with me to identify Burke—Casey was with Burke, and a scuffle took place, in which Casey endeavoured to get him away—Burke was taken and Casey followed to Bow street, and I then gave casey into charge for assaulting the police—the charge-sheet was made out in my presence, and I now produce it—I attended before Sir Thomas Henry and gave evidence against burke and Casey, who were remanded—these remand warrants are signed by Sir Thomas Henry, they refer to Burke and Chasey.

Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Have you the warrant upon which Burke was arrested? A. No, it was a warrant granted in Dublin, and send to the Metropolitan Police for execution—I have not the sworn information on which that warrant was granted. (The warrant was against Burke for Treason Felony.)

WILLIAM SCOTT . I am a painter—the day after the explosion I was put in charge of houses 5 and 7, in Corporation Lane—on December 21st, while walking over the bricks and rubbish of the fallen prison wall in the exercising ground, I found a white ball, which I gave to a policeman named Knowles.

THOMAS KNOWLES . I received the ball from Scott, and gave it to Inspector Thompson (both the balls produced).

HENRY MORRIS . I live with my father, in Helen's Place, Deptford, and am eighteen years of age—I was apprenticed to Mullany, the tailor, in Sherwood Street—I I saw a great number of times a person whom I knew as brown—I saw him(Burke) yesterday in Newgate with Inspector Thompson—I—heard that he had been arrested—I know Burnett, Lynch, and Ryan—they used to come from time to time to Mullany's house—I know the prisoner English, who used to come there very often—I have seen him there once or twice when Brown was there—they spoke together, I believe; they were in the same room—I remember the explosion—some six weeks before that two persons came to Mullany—I knew them as Mr. Jackson and Mr. Hasting—Barrett is the man who went by the name of Jackson—they came very often—Hastings used to dime there every day, and Jackson dined there a few times—they were together at Mullany's—I last saw them at Mullany's the day before the explosion—I did not see Hasting after that day—on that day they were there between 11 and 1 o'clock, and Hasting dined there—Jackson left before dinner—after dinner Hasting left—on the day of the explosion I did not see either of them in the morning—I heard of the explosion that same evening—Mullany was there when the news came, and he got of the board and went out—he returned in about half an-hour into the workshop—soon after a man named Patten came in and asked for some thread and buttons to sew upon his trousers—I had known Patten before that as coming to Mullany's—he was a tailor—I noticed that a piece of his right ear was off, that his neck had been washed, and that the top of his collar was fresh—something was said about the way his ear had been hurt—I had not then seen another man—Patten then went into the back room—when Patten came in Mullany was sitting on the board—soon after I took an iron into the back room to put it into the fire—I there saw Jackson, Patten, and Mrs. Mullany—Mr. Mullany was also there he had followed

Patten in before I went in—Jackson was washing his neck, wchih was black—Mullany stayed five or ten, minutes, and then came back and sat on his board—I remained only two minutes in the room—Patten had changed his clothes when he first came into the workshop: he came from the back room—he had a different suit of clothes on to any that I had ever seen him in before—I think Jackson had a different pair of trousers on, but I cannot be sure—when Jackson was washing his neck he had his coat and waistcoat off and his whiskers were the same as they had always been—at the time I knew him he had whiskers coming down the side of his face—I did not see Jackson again after that night till he was taken into custody; I then saw him at the station in King Street, Westminster; he then had on a different dress, and his whiskers had been shaved off—I knew a Mrs. Barry or Berry, who used to come to Mullany's before the explosion, soon after the arrest of Mr. Brown—I heard a man named Burnet say that Brown was arrested—I never after that saw Brown at Mullany's—the black on Jackson's neck seemed like gunpowder or soot; it did not look to be dirt, but it was smutted on as if it had blown from a chimney or gun—I have played with gunpowder.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. How long Have you been apprenticed to Mullany? A. Two years—I believe the last time I saw Burke there was the latter end of last summer—I cannot say how often I saw him there—English was very frequently there; almost every day—the last tame I saw him was probably a week or a fortnight before the explosion—I have seen English there while Burke was there, I believe, but cannot say for certain, or whether they spoke.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. were you examined on 20th January, at Bow Street, the first time? A. Yes; the only time I was examined there my master was in the dock, and on the next occasion he gave evidence—Barrett always went by the name of Jackson at my master's house—I identified him two days before I went to Bow Street—I went to Scotland Yard and saw Inspector Williamson—I first gave information to the police, by my father's persuasion, at the Greenwich station house—I saw the placards about the reward at Bow Street, the day after my master was taken—I first went to Scotland Yard about 16th or 17th January—my father did not say anything to me about the reward—he went with me to Scotland Yard and to King Street police-station—I identified Barrett amongst a number of other persons—I was only told to pick out all I knew—jackson, when I first knew him, wore only long whiskers coming down to a point, no beard, and no moustache—when I went into the back room, on the evening of the explosion, Mrs. Mullany was folding up a bundle—it was between 5 and 7 o'clock in the evening—we take tea at 4.30 or 5 o'clock, in the back room, and this might lie a quarter, or half an hour after tea—that day Mullany took his tea on the board, I think—I don't know whether it was after tea or just before that Mullany went out for half an hour—I believe he went out at 8 o'clock, or between 8 and 9.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. After the explosion did you remain at Mullany's? A. On Christmas Eve my father came and took me away home to Deptford—I have been living with him since—it was while I was with my father that he persuaded me to go to the police—I had told him what I had seen—I was afraid to go myself for there had been two attempts to do away with me—he persuaded me to go to the station directly I had told him What I had seen, and next day I went to Scotland Yard—I saw Jackson in the prison cell, Barrett is the person.

MR. GREENE. Q. Did you state to Magistrate that one of the workmen asked your master what was the matter with the man whose ear was bleeding? A. Yes, and he said that it had been bitten off—there was two or three men and a woman; Mrs. Koeppl; in the room—that was after Patten had left.

JANE KOEPPL . I am the wife of Henry Koeppl, a tailor, and "worked for Mulltany some time, before the, explosion, in his shop, the front room first floor—I knew English from his coming to Mullany`s several times—I saw William Desmond there once—I knew Barrett there under the name of Jackson—I first saw him, I think, about a month or five weeks before the explosion—he used to be there three or four times a week—I have talked to him at times—I knew a man called Hastings at Mullany's—he often took his meals there—I dined at the same table with him, in the back room—I last saw Hastings, I think on the Monday before the explosion—but I saw Jackson once after that, I don't know the day—I saw Mrs. Berry or Berry there several times—she used to come to see Hastings, she had never been to my knowledge before Hastings came—I did not see any of them after the explosion took place—I remember a person called Brown or Winslow coming to Mullany's—I first knew him as Winslow, and then I was told he was Brown—he first came in the early part of the summer, and he was introduced to me as winslow by Mullany—afterwards I heard Brown spoken of and I asked who Brown was, and then I was told by Mullany that Winslow was Brown—I heard of his beeing arrested, and I saw him yesterday in Newgate—he was not at Mullany's after I heard of his arrest—I remember hearing of the explosion—on the afternoon of that day. I was at work at Mullany's—young Morris was there—a man named patten came in from the back room—I had seen him several times before, both in the street and at Mullany's—his ear was bleeding when he came in—he asked me for a needle and thread to sew on a button—I gave them to him, and he went into the back room—young Morris then went into the back room, either to put an iron on or take one off—that was about 5 or 5.30 in the afternoon—we had not had a tea—I am not sure whether the gas was alight or not—I have not seen Patten since that afternoon—on the same evening, as coming from a public-house at the corner—Mullany came across the road and spoke to me—I asked him for some money—he said he must get some change, and asked me to go into a public-house with him—I went in and Barrett came in with us to the Welsh Stores at the corner of Warwick Street, Mullany got some change, and gave me some money, 2s. 6d. I think, and some bandy, and water, and Barrett had a glass of his own—we remained about five minutes—till that time his whiskers came down his chin; but then his face was clean-shaved and he was dressed differently—he used to wear a long blue Chesterfield outside coat with side pockets; but that night he had on a short jacket—I did not known him till he spoke—I remarked the change in his appearance to myself, but I did not say anything to him about it—I left Barrett and Mullany together at the corner of Warwick Street—I saw him next morning, about 9 o'clock, passing through Sherwood Street, and then I did not see him again till I saw him in custody at Bow Street—his beard was then growing again—I am certain Barrett is the man I knew as Jackson—I knew a man called Lynch at Mullany's also Felix Fallon and Quin; but I have not seen any of them since the explosion—I knew Ryan; I saw him there three or four times a week and the last time I saw him was the night Mullany was taken into custody.

Cross-examined by Mr.W. SLEIGH. Q. On the one occasion that you saw William Desmond at Mullany's was Mullany at home? A. No—his hair and whiskers are the same now—I knew Captain Murphy at Hastings—he had a large brown beard and moustache, which were turning grey.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH?. Q. When was the last time you saw English at Mullany's? A. It might have been a fortnight before the explosion.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q.. Have you been some time employed at Mullany's? A. Nearly two years—I was taken to the Home Office the Saturday after Mullany gave his evidence—I first saw Barret again in the dock at Bow Street after my master tuned approver—I received instructions at the Home Office to go to Bow Street—I told the policeman at the door I was witness, and I was admitted—I had not then seen Barrett since the explosion—the prisoners at the bar were in the dock, and two more men—I recognized Barrett in the dock, and stated so to the gentleman who was examining me—Jackson, when at Mullany's wore long whiskers, but neither beard nor moustache—on the night of the explosion Patten came in, as near as I can remember, about 5 or 5.30 o'clock, we had not had tea—I am sure it was not between 3.30 and 4, it was later—I am not sure whether the gas was alight or not, or whether Mullany was in the shop or in the back room—we were working—Mullany did not leave the workshop for half an hour before Patten came in—I did not see Barrett at Mullany's house that evening—Mulany said, after Patten had gone, that he had been fighting—my master saw him with his ear cut, because I heard him speak of it; he went into the back room when Patten was there, and to the best of my belief he was there when Patten came—I left the house 8 o'clock—when I last saw them Mullany and Barrett were very drunk—it does not take more than a minute to walk from my master's house to where I met him and the other man—a Chesterfield is as long as a frock coat, it comes down near the knees.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. Did you say anything about this till you were sent for. A. No, I saw Mr. Pollard at the Home Office—I read Mullanys's evidence in the newspapers before I went to the Home Office—Mullany wrote to me from Millhauk, and I went some days after, but he was not there; he had been removed—I then went to Scotland Yard, from there to King Street station, and after that I went to the Home Office—I saw Mullany at King Street, but none of the other prisoners—I then went to the Home Office, or Treasury, and told them what I knew—I gave my evidence at Bow Street, and I saw two men in the dock who I think were Allen and O'Neil.

COURT. Q. When Jackson came to Mullany's did he come to the shop where you were all at work. A. Sometimes—he used to converse with the work people—we dined, two or three times times at the same table—I conversed with him as an acquaintance at the Welsh Stores—I have not heard Barrett speak since he has been in custody, so I do not recognize him by his voice—I do not remember what we conversed about at the Welsh Stores—I did not mention his name—I conversed with Mullany, but not about the evidence he wished me to give; he asked me if I remembered such things, and I said "Yes" or "No"—Sergeant Bell was present, I did not see him alone.

JOHN JOSEPH CORYDON . I was in the Federal Army of the United States, at first as a private, and them as officer—I am an Irishman—I was intimately acquainted with Burke—I knew him by the name of Winslow—I

first knew him in 1862, in the American Army, and continued to know him up to the time of his arrest—I first knew him as Winslow in May, 1866—I was a Fenian, and attended Fenian meetings in America—I knew Burke as one—when I was in Liverpool, in 1866, with Winslow, I was there as a Fenian—I had left Ireland lest I should be arrested—I was sent there by the Fenian organization—Winslow was there purchasing arms for the Fenian Brotherhood—I last saw him there just before the Chester rising, which took place on 11th February, 1867—Burke was first a private, and then a captain, in the 15th New York Engineers, that was the highest rank he got in the Army.

JOSEPH BUNCE (Police Constable). I know John O'Keefe, William Desmond, Timothy Desmond, and Nicholas English—I have seen them at Cavanagh's public-house, in Pollen Street—I had seen English nightly at that house for six weeks before the explosion—on the night of the explosion I saw O'Keefe and English at Cavanagh's, between 9 and 10 o'clock—a man named Dan M'Carthy was with them—when the two brothers Casey came in, English patted them on the back, and I heard O'Keefe say to them, "I saw the two b—slops by the public-house, and I got afraid, and ran away"—on Sunday, 15th December, at 1 o'clock in the morning, I arrested O'Keefe for being concerned in the outrage at Clerkenwell—he gave some account as to where he was, and upon inquiries being made, he was discharged—he was re-arrested on 19th December upon the charge of treasonfelony—I found some cards on him—he said, "This man (alluding to Sergeant Cole, who was with me) had me a few days ago; I got turned up for that, and I shall soon get turned up for this"—on the same night, the 19th, I was with Cole, at Cavanagh's. and assisted in taking English and Mullany into custody.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. While you were watching at Cavanagh's, did you notice that it was visited by artizans of different kinds? A. Principally tailors and shoemakers.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. Do you know where English lives? A. Yes, at 8, Pollen Street, directly opposite Cavanagh`s—I was watching Cavanagh's five or six weeks previous to the explosion—it is a place of call for tailors, principally Irish—I did not Watch it during the tailors strike—I don't know that it was a place of call at that time.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. It is a fact, is it not, that the first time O'Keefe was taken into custody, it was in reference to the Clerkenwell matter? A. Yes—the second time was for treason-fellony; that was on the 19th.

ALEXANDER CHISHOLM . I am a police constable, of the city of Glasgow—I arrested Barrett on 14th January, not on this charge—he was kept in prison from that time, and sent to London.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. The first time he was arrested was he discharged? A. Yes.

JOHN HALL . I am a sub-warder of the House of Detention—it is my duty to keep a book to enter the names of the persons who come to see the prisoners—I produce it—on 13th December I have entered the name of Anne Justice; the entry is my writing—she gave me the information which I entered—(Read: Visitors' name, "Anne Justice;" Prisoner's name, "J.F. Casey;" Relation or friend, "aunt;" Address,"7, Pulteney Street, Oxford Street")—that is the only entry—that was the only time, as for as I know, that she was there.

Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. on the one occasion that you saw William Desmond at Mullany's, was Mullany at home? A. No—his hair and whiskers are the same new—I knew Captain Murphy at Hastings—he had a large brown beard and moustache, which were turning grey.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. When was the last time you saw English at Mullany's? A. It might have been a fortnight before the explosion.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. Have you been some time employed at Mullany's? A. Nearly two years—I was taken to the Home Office the Saturday after Mullany gave his evidence—I first saw Barrett again in the dock at Bow street after my master turned approver—I received instructions at the Home Office to go to Bow Street—I told the policeman at the door I was a witness, and I was admitted—I had not then seen Barrett since the explosion—the prisoners at the bar were in the dock, and two more men—I recognized Barrett in the dock, and stated so to the gentleman who was examining me—Jackson when at Mullany's wore long whiskers, but neither beard nor moustache—on the night of the explosion Patten came in, as near as I can remember, about 5 or 5.30 o'clock, we had not had tea—I am sure it was not between 3.30 and 4, It was later—I am not sure whether the gas was alight or not, or whether Mullany was in the shop or in the back room—we were working—Mullany did not leave the workshop for half an hour before Patten came in—I did not see Barrett at Mullany's house that evening—Mullany said, after Patten had gone, that he had been fighting—my master saw him with his ear cut, because I heard him speak of it; he went into the back room when Patten was there, and to the best of my belief he was there when, Patten came—I left the house about 8 o'clock—when I last saw them Mullany and Barrett were very drunk—it does not take more than a minute to walk from my master's house to where I met him and the other man—a chesterfield is as long as a frock coat, it comes down near the knees.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL . Q. Did you say anything about this till you were sent for. A. No, I saw Mr. Pollard at the Home Office—I read Mulany's evidence in the newspapers before I went to the Home office—Mullany wrote to me from Millbank, and I went some days after, but he was not there; he had been removed—I then went to Scotland Yard, from there to King Street station, and after that I went to the Home office—I saw Mullany at King Street, but none of the other prisoners—I then went to the Home Office, or Treasury, and told them what I knew—I gave my evidence at Bow street, and I saw two men in the dock who I think were Allen and o'Neil.

COURT. Q. When Jackson came to Mullany's did he came to the shop where you were all at work. A. Sometimes—he used to converse with the work people—we dined, two or three times at the same table—I conversed with him as an acquaintance at the Welsh Stores—I have not heard Barrett speak since he has been in custody, so I do not recognize, him by his voice—I do not remember what we conversed about at the Welsh Stores—I did not mention his name—I conversed with Mullany, but not about the evidence he wished me to give; he asked me if I remembered such things, and I said "Yes" or "No"—Sergeant Bell was present, I did not see him alone.

JOHN JOSEPH CORYDON . I was in the Federal Army of the United States, at first as a private, and then as officer—I am an Irishman—I was intimately acquainted wit Burke—I knew him by the name of Winslow—I

first knew him in 1862, in the American army, and continued to know him up to the time of his arrest—I first knew him as winslow in may, 1866—I was a fenian, and attended fenian meetings in America—I knew burke as one—when I was in Liverpool, in 1866, with winslow, I was there as a fenian—I had left Ireland lest I should be arrested—I was sent there by the feninan organization—winslow was there purchasing arms for the fenian brotherhood—I last saw him there just before the chester rising, which took place on 11th February, 1867—burke was first a private, and then a captailn, in the 15th new york engineers, that was the highest rank he got in the army.

JOSEPH BUNCE (police constable). I know john O'keefe, William desmond, timothy desmond, and Nicholas English—I have seen them at cavanagh's public-house, in pollen street—I had English nightly at that house for six weeks before the explosion—on the night of the explosion I saw O'keefe and English at cavanagh's, between 9 and 10 o'clock—a man named dan M'carthy was with them—when the two brothers casey came in, English patted them on the back, and I heaved O'keefe say to them, "I saw the two b——slops by the public-house, and I got afraid, and ran away"—on Sunday, 15th December, at 1 o'clock in the morning, I arrested O'keefe for being concerned in the outrage at clerkenwell—he gave some account as to where he was, and upon inquiries being made, he was discharged—he was re-arrested on 19th December upon the charge of treasonfelony—I found some cards on him—he said, "This man (alluding to sergeant cole, who was with me) had me a few days ago; I got turned up for that, and I shall soon get turned up for this"—on the same night, the 19th, I was with cole, at cavanagh's, and assisted in taking English and mullany into custody.

Cross-examined by MR. W. WLEIGH. Q. while you were watching at cavanagh's did you notice that it was visited by artisans of different kinds? A. principally tailors and shoemakers.

Cross-examined by MR. KEOGH. Q. do you know where English lives? A. yes, at 8, pollen street, directly opposite cavanagh's—I was watching cavanagh's five or six weeks previous to the expolsion—it is a place of call for tailors, principally Irish—I did not watch it during the tailors strike—I don't know that it was a place of call at that time.

Cross-examined by MR. M. WILLIAMS. Q. It is a fact, is it not that the first time O'keefe was taken into custody, it was in refernce to the clerkenwell matter? A. Yes—the second time was for treason-felony; that was on the 19th.

ALEXANDER CHISHOLM . I am a police constable, of the city of glassew—I arrested barrett on 14th January, not on this charge—he was kept in prison from that time, and sent to London.

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE. Q. the first time he was arrested was he discharged? A. Yes.

JOHN HALL . I am a sub-warder of the house of detention—it is my duty to keep a book to enter the names of the persons who come to see the prisoners—I produce it—on 13th December I have entered the name of anne justice; the entry is my writing—she gave me the information which I entered—(read: visitors' name, "anne justice;" prisoner's name, "J. F. casey;" relation or friend, "aunt;" address, "7, pulteney street, Oxford street")—that is the only entry—that was the only time, as far as I know, that she was there.

PATRICK MULLANY (re-examined). I know English well, he was in the habit of coming to my house—he is lame; he has a halt; he got his leg broke some time ago—sometimes he can walk better than others, still I believe he has a halt—I never knew Vaughan to know him till I saw him at Bow Street police-court, and I asked there who he was that sat there prosecuting—Burke has called at my house a few times, I think it was last summer—I met him once, he asked me to make him some clothes, and he called at my house—I was not in the habit of attending the Fenian meetings frequently—I never saw Barrett at any of them, I never saw him any where till the time he came to London before the explosion with Captain Murphy—Murphy, when he introduced him to me, said that he had come from Glasgow to do something for Burke—he said they had both come from Glasgow—he said, "He is a friend of mine, Mr. Jackson, we have arrived from Glasgow"—I think that was as near as possible what he said—that was all he told me about Jackson—I cannot rocollect whether I was at Cavanagh's on the Sunday evening after the explosion—I never was in a private room at Cavanagh's—I was not in a private room there on the Sunday after the explosion, with English, William Desmond, and Vaughan; I am quite sure of that—I recollect now, I was in the private bar, and English, Desmond, and other persons were on the other side, about four or five yards round from me, not with me at all—I was in company with a lady—if I saw Vaughan there I might not know him—when I am in a public-house I take no notice of them—he might be there, but I took no notice of him.

This closed the case for the Prosecutions. THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE having intimated that the case against ANNE JUSTICE was slight, the ATTORNEY GENERAL withdrew the case as to her, and a Verdict of ACQUITTAL was taken.

Friday, April 24th, 1868.

The ATTORNEY-GENERAL stated that as he did not consider the evidence against O'Keefe was sufficient, he should not press the charge against him .

WILLIAM SPARKES HILL , boot-maker, of Regent Street, gave William Desmond good character:

ALEXANDER CHISHOLM (re-examined). At the time I arrested Barrett I arrested a man named O'Neil, he was discharged—it was not with reference to this charge that he was arrested, it was for firing a pistol—I arrested them a second time at their lodging, and they were kept in custody till they were sent up to London.

MR. GREENE called the following Witnesses for Barrett:—

MICHAEL MCNULTY . I am a boot and shoemaker, living in Glasgow—I know Barrett—I have seen him three times in Glasgow, and once in gaol, last night—he was introduced to me on Thursday evening, 12th December, by a man named Mullen, whom I knew personally—I had never seen him till then—Mullen asked me to sole and heel and welt a pair of boots for the gentleman, mentioning his name—I said I would, and promised to have them done the next evening—Barrett came the next evening for them—I had not touched them, and he asked me the reason; I told him I was in too big a hurry with my own work—he asked when I would have them done, and I promised to have them done next day—next day he came, about 2.55, on the Saturday—the boots were not then touched—he called me any thing but a gentleman, and if it were not on account of Mr. Mullen I actually would have put him and the boots out of the house; at least I would have

ordered him out anyhow, but just as he cooled down a little bit, two acquaintances of mine came in; shoemakers—I asked one of them to do me a favour, to sole, heel and welt a pair of boots—he asked whet I wanted them done—I said between 6 and 7 that evening—one said he could not do the boots in that time; when the other man (Welsh) said he would do one—they both sat down to do the boots, and got them done between 6 and 7 o'clock—Barrett sent out for an evening paper while the boots were doing, by my little boy—he sat in the left window of my shop, and read the paper about the explosion which happened in London, and I heard it read by him—it was not the first I had heard of the explosion—I heard of it on the Saturday morning—he remained till the boots were finished, and took them away with him—Mullen, I believe, has gone to America—Barrett then about three or four day's beard on him—I never saw him since till I saw him yesterday evening in the gaol—a man named Captain McCaul called on me and asked whether I knew a man named O'Neil, Barrett, or Jackson—McManus came first, and asked me if I remembered soling the boots for the gentleman—he showed me a letter, and I gave him some information, after hearing it real.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. Where do you live in Glasgow? A. In Bridgegate Street, a short way up the green—I have not a shop—I work for a shop, and for anybody that will fetch me a job to do I draw my work from shops—I work for Mr. Johnson and Mr. David Mahon—those are the only shops—there is on name on the door—Mullen was a shoemaker—he worked for a man named Neeson—I don't know what street Neeson lives in, because I have no acquaintance with the man—I have lived in Glasgow fifteen or sixteen years—I knew where he lived about ten months ago—he manufactures for shops—I had known Mullen about twelve months as a shoemaker.

COURT. Q. Where was Neeson's shop ten months ago? A. At the foot of Stockwell—Mullen brought Barrett to me because, he, was a peg worker for Neeson, and could not do any jobs that did not go through his master's hands—he worked at Neeson's shop.

The ATTORNEY-GENERAL Q. When did you last see Mullen? A. About the beginning of January, the 2nd or 3rd—I saw him at a soiree and ball—not a Fenian ball—he was a married man with a family and lived in cannonreach Street—he had a house of his own, I don't know the number—I have not seen him since that night—when Mullen brought Barrett first, there was no one with me—Barrett came alone next day, also the following day—no one was present except my little boy, who is between, five and six years of age—on the Saturday I was alone when he came for boots—the soiree and ball was at the Bell Hotel, Trongate, Glasgow—Barrett was in my shop between ten and fifteen minutes before the two shoemakers came in—he was not calling me "no gentleman" all that time, I was calling him something as well—he said I was no man at all, I said I was as good a man as he was, and that if it were not for Mullen I would throw him and his boots down the stairs—they were lying on the floor touched—I might have met Mullen after the 2nd or 3rd January, but am not sure—they were side-spring boots, they were lying alongside my seat when the two men came in, about 3.10 or 3.15—Barrett was to stop till the boots were finished, and he sat there the whole time on a chair by the side of the window, reading and smoking—I was very much engaged doing work, and in a great hurry to get it done, or I should not have got my money, as the shops shut at 8.30—he went away between 6 and 7—I got 4s. 6d. for the boots—Mullen paid me

for them that evening, in a public-house in my own street, the name of which I do not know—the two journeymen shoemakers' names are Peak and Welsh—no one else was in the room but those two men, myself, and Barrett, when they did this work—my wife might have come in with a light for the pipe, but nobody else—I did not give Mullen a receipt for the money—I heard to my sorrow that Mullen had gone to America, for I was bail for him to a loan office for 5l.—Captain McCaul called on me, I think, on the Sunday, after O'Neil and Barrett were taken—I knew Q'Neil, but I did not know, where he lived—I had known him between six and eight months—when Captain McCaul called on me I did not know that the two men had been taken to London—McManus called three, or four days after Captain McCaul came the first time—I did not say to Captain McCaul that I had never repaired any boots for Barrett, nor did I remember any man coming to my house about the time to get boots "bottoned"—he never made use of the word "bottomed" to me, but "buttoned"—he asked me if I remembered a man kicking up a row about boots being "buttoned"—I never "buttoned" boots, and I did not understand what Captain McCaul meant—he did not mention the name of Barrett when he talked about "buttoning" boots—I said I knew neither Barrett nor Jackson, but I knew Q'Neil—I said no man came back and kicked up a row when he found his boots unbuttoned—I did not tell him that no man fetched in a newspaper and read the account of the Clerkenwell outrage—I said that O'Neil had fetched in a paper on the Saturday morning, containing an account of the Clerkenwell outrage—he did not read it; he only asked me if I had heard tell of it, and I said not—Captain McCaul never asked me whether I had soled, heeled, and welted a pair of boots for a man—I did not tell Captain McCaul that no man came and kicked up a row whem he found his boots were not done, or read out of a newspaper an account of the Clerkenwell outrage.

Q. Did you tell Captain McCaul that no man came to you with work which you had to got two men to assist you in doing? A. I did not say work, I said that I never buttoned any boots since I had been in that house—I told him that I did not know a man named Hughes, a publican; nor did I know such a man—I told him that I never knew any other shoemaker of my name in my street, and not in Glasgow—I am an Irishman, and have lived in Scotland fifteen or sixteen years—McManus asked me if I remembered "bottoming" or repairing a pair of boots—I said I did not remember at that time—McManus read a paper which told him to go to a man named James Mullen—I believe McManus has the letter—it was brought to me three or four days after McCaul came—I cannot tell whether this is the letter; as I did not have it in my hand; he read it to me, I heard Barrett's name at the bottom of it; as far as I could understand he read the whole of it—(Letter read:—"Millbank Prison, London, Jan. 24, 1868—My dear friend, you will be very much grieved to hear the serious reverse that has befallen me lately, the cause of which I am as ignorant of as yourself; nevertheless, I have got into the meshes of the law, and when once fairly entangled, it is no easy matter to get extricated. It is needless to enter into details, as now you will have learned all the particulars through the public press. I wish you to go to Mr. James Mullen, who will take, you to a shoemaker named McNulty, in Bridgegate Street; mention my name, and see if he remembers doing a little work for me at the time this crime, of which I am supposed to be the author, was committed; if not, mention the few following incidents, namely, that I am the

party who waited on him on three different occasions to have my boots bottomed—first on Thrusday, then again on Friday, when he promised them on Saturday and I found they were not done I kicked up a row with him, and that then two men set to work on them, and during the time they were working I sent out for the Evening Post and read an account of the Clerkenwell explosion, which was the first they had heard of it. I think this should bring the matter quite clearly to their remembrance. Tell McNulty, if these two men have left him, to find them out, and also who the other parties were that were in the place at the time. I wish you to go to my old lodgings at once, and take anything of mine that is there out of it, and if you can, send me a change of under-clothing, there is nothing I want more. P.S.—Will you please send me the red Urimean shirt that you will find in my lodgings, and drawers are what I need most; you will also find some collars, of which I would like you to send me a few. You may rest assured we are in a miserable enough condition, being without friends or acquanatances to do anything for us. Now please not to neglect what I have told you to do; write at once. Of course all letters are read by the Governor. I would also wish you to send me a pair of Stockings. See Mr. Lewis at once. Mr. Mullen will bring you to him; he will also bring you to my old lodgings. I hope that you at least do not accuse me of being guilty of this charge. Please to write by return").

Q. Now, I ask you whether, before McManus came to you with that letter, Captain McCaul did not expressly ask you whether you had not repaired boots for Barrett; whether a man had not come to your house about that time to get boots bottomed had kicked up a row when he found them still undone; whether you had not got two men to do them, and whether the man did not send out for a newspaper, and read an account of the Clerkenwell outrage while the work was being done? A. Captain McCaul came on a Sunday, and led me completely astray by talking of "buttoning" instead of "bottoning"—I told him that O'Neil had fetched in a newspaper between 10 and 12 on Saturday morning—O'Neil brought in a paper, and left it in my shop on Saturday morning, and my little boy carried it upstairs—he did not read from it about the explosion—he asked me if I had heard of it, and I said, "No"—I was too busy to read anything about it—I came up from Glasgow on Monday night, with McManus and six others—I, McManus, and the two shoemakers saw Barrett last night in prison—he work in Glasgow a stiff billycock hat and darkish clothes—I believe the jacket he has on now is the one he wore then—I did not assist in getting up a subscription for the men at Manchester—I never saw Barrett before—O'Neil used to bring tea to my house every week.

MR. GREENE. Q. You say you saw Barrett last evening in the gaol: were there any other persons with him? A. Yes—I did not count how many there were: there were a good few of them, perhaps a dozen or so; many there might perhaps be one or two more or less—they were walked round, and I picked him out as the man who had been in my shop—some of the officers of the gaol were there—I do not know whether the Governor was or not—I do not keep a shop in Glasgow—my work is mostly making men's boots—I do not work for wholesale places—I work for a custom shop only, and sometimes you cannot get enough from the custom shop to keep you going—it is mostly shop work I do for Neason—I sometimes get two lodgers, and sometimes none at all—they are always shoemakers that I do have—the public houses in Glasgow have the names of the persons who keep them

for them that evening, in a public-house in my own street, the name of which I do not know—the two journeymen shoemakers' names are Peak and Welsh—no one else was in the room but those two men, myself, and Barrett, when they did this work—my wife might have come in with a light for the pipe, but nobody else—I did not give Mullen a receipt for the money—I heard to my sorrow that Mullen had gone to America, for I was bail for him to a loan office for 5l.—Captain McCaul called on me, I think, on the Sunday, after O'Neil and Barrett were taken—I knew O'Neil, but I did not know where he lived—I had known him between six and eight months—when Captain McCaul called on me I did not know that the two men had been taken to London—McManus called three or four days, after Captain McCaul came the first time—I did not say to, Captain McCaul that I had never repaired any boots foe Berrett, nor did I remember any man coming to my house about the time to get boots," bottomed"—he never made use of the word "bottomed" to me, but "buttoned"—he asked me if I remembered a man kicking up a row about boots being "buttoned"—I never "buttoned" boots, and I did not understand what Captain McCaul meant—he, did not mention the name of Barrett when he talked about "buttoning" boots—I said I knew neither Barrett nor Jackson, but I knew O'Neil—I said up man came back and kicked up a row when he found his boots, unbuttoned—I did not tell him that no man fetched in a newspaper and read the Account of the Clerkenwell outrage—I said that O'Neil had fetched in a paper on the Saturday morning, containing an account of the Clerkenwell outrage—he did not read it; he only asked me, if I had heard tell of it, and I said not—Captain McCaul never asked me whether I had soled, heeled, and welted a pair of boots for a man—I did not tell Captain McCaul that no man came and kicked up a row whon he found his boots were not done, or read out of a newspaper an account of the Clerkenwell outrage.

Q. Did you tell Captain, McCaul that no man came to you with work which you had to get two men to assist you in doing? A. I did not say work, I said that I never buttoned any boots since I had been in that house—I told him that I did not know a man named Hughes, a publican; nor did I know such a man—I told him that I never knew any other shoemaker of my name in my street, and not in Glasgow—I am an Irishman, and have lived in Scotland fifteen or sixteen years—McManus asked me if I remembered "bottoming" or repairing a pair of boots—I said I did not remember at that time—McManus read a paper which told him to go to a man named James Mullen—I believe McManus has the letter—it was brought to me three or four, days after McCaul came—I cannot tell whether this is the letter; as I did not have it in my hand; he read it to ma, I heard Barrett's name at the bottom of it; as far as I could understand he read the whole of it—(Letter read:—"Millbank Prison, London, Jan. 24, 1868—My dear friend, you will be very much grieved to hear the serious reverse that has befallen me lately, the cause of which I am as ignorant of as yourself; nevertheless, I have got into the meshes of the law, and when once fairly entangled, it is no easy matter to get extricated. It is needless to enter into details, as now you will have learned all the particulars through the public press. I wish you to go to Mr. James Mulleu, who will take you to a shoemaker named McNulty, in Bridgegate Street; mention my name, and see if he remembers doing a little work for me at the time this crime, of which I am supposed to be the author, was committed; if not, mention the few following incidents, namely, that I am the

party who waited on him on three different occasions to have my boots bottomed—first on Thursday, then again on Friday, when he promised them on Saturday and I found they were not done I kicked up a row with him, and that then two men set to work on them, and during the time they were working I sent out for the Evening Post and read an account of the Clerkenwell explosion, which was the first they had heard of it, I think this should bring the matter quite clearly to their rememberance. Tell Mc Nalty, if these two men have left him, to find them out, and also who the other parties were that were in the place at the time. I wish you to go to my old lodging at once, and take anything of mine that is there out of it, and if you can send me a change of the under-clothing, there is nothing I want more. P.S.—Will you please send me the red Urimean shirt that you will find in my lodging, and drawers are what I need most; you will also find some collars, of which I would like you to send me a few. You may rest assured we are in a miserable enough condition, being without friends or acquaintances to do anything for as. Now please not to neglect what I have told you to do; write at once. Of course all letters are read by the governor. I would also wish you to send me a pair of stockings. See Mr. Lewis at once. Mr.Mullen will bring you to him; he will also bring you to my old lodging. I hope that you at least do not accuse me of being guilty of this charge. Please to write by return").

Q. Now, I ask you whether, before McManus came to you with that letter, Captain McCaul did not expressely ask you whether you had not repaired boots for Barret, Whether a man had not come to your house about about that time to get boots bottomed had kicked up a row when he found them still undone, whether you had not got two men to do them, and whether the man did not send out for a newspaper, and read an account of the clerkenwell outrage while the work was being done? A. Captain McCaul came on a sunday, and led me completely astray by talking of "buttoning" insted of "buttoning"—I told him that O`Neil brought in a newspaper between 10 and 12 on saturday morning and any little boy carried it upstairs—he did not read from it about the explosion—beasked me iuf I had heard of it, and I said, "No"—I was too busy to read anything about it—I came up from Clasgow on monday night, with McMinas and six others—I, McManus, and the two shoemakers saw Barrett last night in prison—he wore in Glosgow a stiff billycoek hat and darkish clothes—I believe the jacket he has on now is the one he wore then—I did not assist in getting up a subscription for the men at Manchester—I never saw Barrett before—O`Neil used to bring tea to my house every week.

MR. GREENE. Q. You say you saw Barrett last evening in the gaol: were there any other person other person with him? A. Yes—I did not count how many there were there were a good few of them, perhaps a dozen or so there might perhaps be one or two more or less—they were walked round, and I picked him out as the man who had been in my shop—some of the officers of the gaol were there—I do not know whether the governor was or not—I do not keep work for wholesale places—I work for custom shop only, and sometimes you cannot get enough from the custom shop only, and sometimes you cannot get enough from the custom shop to keep you going—and sometimes none at all—they are always shoemakers that I do have—the public house in Glasgow have the names of the person who keep them

over the doors, but they do not have signs—I cannot tell you who this Captain McCaul is who called on me—I understand he is the Captain of the Glasgow police; he told me so—he did not tell me when he came—he came into the room, and asked if we had any private place to talk in—I said I had no place but the kitchen, and he took me into the kitchen, and I told the wife to go out—another gentleman was with him, who, I understood, is a detective, named Smith—I asked him who this gentleman was, and he told me it was Captain McCaul—I am quite sure he never mentioned bottoming boots at all; he only said buttoning boots, and I said I did not understand what that Was, neither do I yet—that was the reason I misunderstood him altogether—the journeymen shoemakers in Glasgow mostly try to get their work done by 2 or 2.30—I had a pair of boots to make that day in a particularly great hurry, and I could have got no wages unless they were done—the shops shut about 9, and I could not have got the wages that height if I had not done them—I could not have done Barrett's boots for all the money in the world, and I should have lost my work if I had; the reason that I did not do them.

COURT. Q. How long did it take Barrett to read the account of the Clerkenwell outrage? A. I could not tell exactly, but not more than five minutes, I should think—I don't know which of the Glasgow evening papers it was; I believe there are two published—it did not give an account of any examination, or inquiry, or anything taking place at a police-court, but only of the blowing up of a wall, or something of that kind—Mullen did not tell me where Barrett lived, nor did I ask him—Barrett did not pay, himself, for repairing his boots, because Mullen told me he would pay and I would have let him have three pairs of new boots on Mullen's word—I looked to Mullen for the money—he paid me; I gave no receipt—on that saturday night I took a pair of ordered boots home to the shop I work for, Mr. David Mahon's, who lives in Argyle Street—I had got them out to make on the Thursday might, and had only one day to make them—Barrett's boots were brought in on Thursday—I did not repair them on Friday, because I was making a pair of boots for the shop day also, Which I took home on the Friday night—I shop a pair of boots every night—on Saturday I was very much hurried to get my work done, because, if I had not got the boots in before the shop closed, I should not have been able to draw my week's wages—the two men who called on me, and did Barrett's boots, Were journeymen shoemakers who had finished their work early—I don't know which of them mended the right boot, and which mended the left—I believe they had not before, heard of the Clerkenwell explosion before it was read to them—there was some talk about it afterwards—I said it was horrid, and I believe the other two men said the same thing—Barrett said it was as ridicnlous a thing as he had ever heard—by "ridiculous," I suppose he meant something horrifying, or terrifying.

saturday, A pril 25 th, 1868. JOHN PEAK. I am a boot and shoe maker, of 60, Rose Street, Glasgow—I work for a shop—I make boots and shoes at home and take them to my employcrs—I have know McNulty about two years—I remember going to his house on a Saturday in December; I was coming from the shop after getting paid, and mer a shopniate; I asked him how he was getting on, he said that he was not very busy—I said that I was going over to McNulty's to see if he had finished—he said would go with me, and we both went

over—I live on the south side and McNulty lives on the city side of Glasgow—on going into MrNulty's, I saw a strange man that I know nothing about—Barrett is the man—I had never seen him before—McNulty asked me whether I would oblige him to do a job for him—I asked what sort of a job it was—he said it was to sole heel, and welt a pair of boots—I asked when he wanted them done—he said he wanted them before seven—I said I could not have them done in that time—my acquaintance Welsh, who accompanied me, said he would do one of them—we sat down and commenced, an finished them within the time that they were wanted, in McNulty's workshop—the strange man called in McNulty's little boy from the kitchen to go and buy a paper, the Evening Post—it was between three and four, I think, when we went into McNulty's—I leave off work at nine o'clock on Saturday morning, as all my work has to be in by that time—the boy brought in the paper, and the strange man sat and read it, while we were doing the boots—he read the explosion in London—I had heard of it before that morning—I first heard of it that Saturday morning the foreman was speaking of it. Where I took my work at nine o'clock—we worked at the boots, and finished them between 6 and 7—I can't say exactly, for there was no clock in the house—the strange man then want away and took the boots with him.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL. Q. Who do you work for? A. Mr. Mackintosh, of Stockwell Street—I do not work for him now, but I did for about eight months—I have ceased to do so about two months—I now work for Mr.Martin, who ha a shop in the Gallowgate—I have heard Mr.Mullr's name in Glasgow, but never knew him—I did no work on Saturday but these boots—between 9 o'clock and the time I went to McNulty's I was at different places; first I was at McCann's and another place was a man's named Finnis's; and I was at different places, walking about—I did not go home before I went to Mc.Nulty's; I walked about until I went there—I found the man who went with me in Stockwell Street—I had no dinner that day—I received no pay till 2 in the afternoon; I then received 15s—I met Welsh directly afterwards—it was not far to McNulty's—I can't say whether it was 2 or 3 o'clock when I met Welsh—when I went in the stranger was sitting on the left side and McNulty on the right—I think he was dressed something the same as he is now; he had a felt that, round in the crown—the kitchen was the next room—no one else came into the room while I was there but the little boy who was called in—after leaving there I went home—the man. Welsh left with me, but he did not go home with me; he went with me as far as the Close mouth—I had no dinner till I got home, I often go without—I saw McNulty the next week—I call on him regular, sometimes two or three times a week; he don't often call on me—I had heard of the explosion—I don't know whether it was placarded about Glasgow, or whether it was in the morning papers—I don't know McManus; I have heard of the name—McNulty came and asked me about this afterwards—a letter had come down, I believe—I did not see it, or hear it read—McNulty told me about it at my house—I cannot fix the day of the week—Welsh was not there at that time—I had heard of Barrett and O'Neil being taken up before that, in Glasgow, for a pistol affair—I can't say how long after that I heard of the letter—I came up with McNulty, Welsh, and others to London, and we all stayed together, at some place near Fleet Street—I saw Barrett in Prison on Thursday; that is the only time I have seen him, except now, since I mended the boots.

MR. GREENE. Q. I understand you to say you went to receive your

money at 2 o'clock on the Saturday? A. Yes; it is sometimes not paid till 3; on this day it was later than usual.

COURT. Q. When the account of the explosion was read, was there any talk about it? A. Yes; I said it was a very grate shame; a very bad thing—I don't remember any of the others saying anything—Welsh said nothing—there was a kind of word among us all, something about badness—he found fault with it; he thought it was wrong; but I don't remember anything particular that was said—I do not remember which boot I mended—I have nothing to fix that particular Saturday in my mind, only the report of the explosion was on the particular day that I was at this shop—the explosion was on the Friday before, but the first I heard of it was on the Saturday morning—I am sure that the day I heard of it was the day I was at McNulty's shop.

JOHN WELSH . I live at 78, Stockwell Street, Glasgow—I am a shoemaker, and I work for Mr. Neeson—I have worked for him for fourteen months—I know McNulty and Peak—I remember one Saturday in December last, meeting Peak in Stockwell Street, Glasgow—it was, I think about half-past three o'clock—we walked together as far as McNulty's and went in—there was a man in at the time getting his boots done—Barett is the man—McNulty asked John Peak to oblige him by doing a job for him—he asked when the job was wanted—McNulty said he wanted it done in two hours—he said he could not have it done in that time—I said that I would do one of the boots for him—we both set to work then at McNulty's and continued working at them till they were finished—I had never seen the stranger before to my knowledge—he sat there while we were doing the boots, and sent out for a paper, which was brought in—he then read an account of explosion at Clerkenwell—I did not here him read any other part of the paper—I had heard of the explosion in the morning and had seen it on the placards of the Herald newspaper but I had not heard any of the particulars till the strange man read them—when the boots were finished I went home—that was about 6.30

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL. Q. Who is Neeson that you work for? A. A manufacturer—McNulty did not work for him while I was there, which was nearly sixteen months continuously, and I do not think he worked for him at all—I work for him now—the workshop is in Stockwell Street, near were I live, it used to be in Hutchinson Street—the change was last May, I think—I always worked on the premises—Neeson keeps no men out—they generally all work on the premises and have done so since I have been a workman for him—as a usual thing he may have ten or twelve men on the premises, and some weeks less—I had finished work for good that day, about 3 o'clock, and had received my wages—I was going to my lodgings when I met Peak, about fifty yards from my lodging, just across the street from McNulty's who is a friend of mine—I have known him a long time—I asked him how he was getting on, and whether he was paid—he said that he was and off we went out—I asked him if he had finished his work, he said "No"—he was sitting at the window at his work, and the strange man was sitting at the other window—the strange man was getting his boots soled, heeled, and welted—he had left them with McNulty to get them done, but they had not been begun—he had boots on—it was about ten minutes after I went in that the paper was sent for—no one came into the room except McNulty's wife and little boy during the time I was there—his wife did not stay for more than a minute or two—she

took no part in the conversation that I heard—I generally go to work at 6 a.m—I saw the placards after coming from my breakfast at t 9 o'clock—I think the explosion was talked about at Neeson's—the stranger had dark clothes on, a low hat with a round top—I knew Mullen, he Worked at Neeson's—he left two or three months ago, as near as I can remember—I don't know McManus—I have heard of him from McNulty—I don't know what he is—I know him by sight, having seen him once at Neeson's—after the explosion I remember hearing of Barrett and O'Neil being taken up at Glasgow for the pistol affair—I remember McNulty coming to me after that; he did not say anything about a letter he had received—he came to my lodging in Stockwell Street—I saw Peak soon after; and we went to McNulty's—sometimes I went every night to McNulty's, and sometimes not for a week—I Have often met him there.

COURT. Q. Do you remember at McNulty, when the account was read by the man of the Clerkenwell explosion, either you or peak saying that it was the first you had heard of it? A. I do not know—I think it was peak I heard say so—I think he said that he had not heard of the explosion before when the stranger read it—someone said it, and I am almost sure it was Peak—I am sure I did not say so—I had seen it in the placard, but I had not read it before that—the stranger had a pair of boots on his feet, and the pair I assisted in repairing were, in the shop—there are two windows I sat at this right hand one, near it, for the sake of light—I sat there the whole time I was doing the boot—three of us sat round the window—I worked by the light of the window the whole time—we had a lamp—it is generally lit about 3 or 3.30—it was placed just by the window—I can't exactly say how long I had been at work when the lamp was brought in; not long: I think about half an hour—I met Peak about 3.30—we went to McNulty's, and began to work shortly after going in—we could work half an hour by daylight, I think.

ARTHUR BURGOYNE . I live at 14, Greenside Lane, Glasgow—I am a blacksmith, and work for laidlaw & Sons, Glasgow—I have worked off and on for them for two years—(looking at the prisoner) I recognize Michael Barrett—I first knew him last August, in the Britania Music hall, Trongate, Glasgow—I went into the music hall, and he was sitting on the seat which I went to—we got talking together), and made an appointment to meet there a week afterwards—I generally saw him after that once a week—it is usual for Working men to meet by appointment at the Cross, in Glasgow, to take a walk or have a glass of porter—I remember the executions in Manchester—there was a torchlight demonstration in Glasgow by the Irish residents on the Thursday, two days before the excution—I attended It myself, and saw Mr. Macorry, the chairman, and Michael Barrett there—the object was to petition the Home Secretary—I carried a torch and got burned, and my clothes got destroyed from the drops falling, the torch was composed of resin or tar—I heard Barrett afterwards say that evening that he had sustained injury from some person running a torch against his jaw—he said his face and clothes were destroyed—he said his face was almost destroyed by it—I thought he meant hair—when I first knew him he had a light small whisker, Which appeared to be thin—after the demonstration he had no whiskers—he had whiskers at the time the demonstration—when he made this remark about his face being destroyed his whiskers seemed Binged, and there were marks as if drops had fallen on his face here and there from the torches—in December there was a committee to get up a funeral demonstration—it was proposed that it should

proceed from Glasgow Green to Dulbeth Cemetery—Dr. Grey, the Roman Catholic bishop, wished to stop it, and the night of the last meeting to arrange the demonstration, on a Friday night, when it was thought that all would be finally settled, the chairman, Mr. Macorry, the editor of a Glasgow paper, made a communication to the committee to the effect that the bishop promised, if they would abandon the demonstration, he would instead give a solemn requiem high mass for the repose of the souls of the men—that was accepted—I was at that meeting—I saw Macorry and between fifty and sixty other persons there—the meeting was held at the Bell Hotel, kept by Mr. Bell—after it broke up some persons remained behind, and I saw Macorry, Gallagher, Michael Barrett, and others—I did not see Barrett at the meeting, but I saw him afterwards—we had a cup of tea, and Maeorry played the piano in a private room—it was after 11 o'clock at night—Barrett was with us there—his face had not been shaved then for a day or two—I had met him between then and the torchlight meeting, and his face was then bare—I know that Friday was the 13th December by the meeting—I saw Barrett once or twice after that, and then I heard of his arrest—I have not seen him since until I now see him in the dock.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. You are a Fenian, I suppose? A. No I am not—I sympathised with the men who were hanged, but not with Fenianism—I don't remember what I called those men—I did not, that I remember, call them murdered men or martyrs—Mr. Macorry then edited the Glasgow Free Press and now edits the Irish Catholic Banner—I saw Barrett alone on the first occasion in August—I don't know O'Neil—I did not go to the Police Court to see him—I know McManus—I hare known him at those meetings only—I can't say whether I have met him at the Music Hall—I don't know where Barrett lived in Glasgow—I never knew where be lived, I never asked him; he appeared to be working about the quays—I don't know where he worked—I don't know what his employment was, I did not ask him—he has been once or twice to my house—the torchlight meeting before the execution of Allen and others was at the Bell Hotel, in a room there—the demonstration was on Glasgow Green, but there was a meeting before at the Bell, and then we went to Glasgow Green with the torches—I can't say how many persons attended that meeting, more than 300 or 400, the Green was almost full—the meeting at the Bell was to get up the torchlight demonstration—the room was about full, I don't think there was so many as sixty or seventy—Mr. Macorry was there, and McManus; I don't know about Mullen; I don't know him—I mean I don't know him at all, by sight or anything—McManus I believe is a bottle blower—I don't know where he lives—when I said Barrett's face was almost destroyed by the droppings of the torch, I meant his whisker was injured—I don't know whether the hair of his head was injured—I can't say whether both his whiskers were injured, I meant to say one—no mass took place that I heard of for the Manchester men—there might have been between fifty and sixty persons present at the meeting when Mr. Maoorry spoke about the Bishop—I did not see McManus there—I have not said that he was, I don't know whether he was or not, he might have been or he might not—there might be six or seven who remained behind after that meeting—I can't give you the names of the others—I have heard that Gallaghar is a foreman tailor—I used to see him at the meetings—he was a regular attendant; I can't say whether the others were; I may have seen them there—I remained at Glasgow till I came up here with the others, Mr. Macorry and McManus.

CHARLES MCMANUS . I live at 30, Canal Street, Port Dundas, Glasgow—I know the prisoner Michael Barrett—I am a bottle|makei*, and work for Messrs. Casson and Co., and have worked for them for twenty years—I first knew Barrett about thirteen months ago—it was at a soiree held in honour of St. Patrick, on or about the 17th of March, 1867—he then wore Whiskers on the cheeks—I met him from time to time in Glasgow after I first made his acquaintance—I saw preparations for the torchlight demonstration, but I was not at it myself—I knew that after the execution of the Manchester prisoners there was to have been a funeral demonstration as a mark of sympathy—I know Mr. Macorry; and I was at one meeting to carry it out—I saw Michael Barrett about that time—he, was at that meeting—he had no whiskers or beard on his face then; nothing but a two or three, or three or four days growth of hair all over his face—the date of than meeting would be about the 13th of December, to the best of my recollection—it was held at the Bell Hotel, Trongate—after that I heard of Barrett's arreet.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL. Q. Did you see him after he was arrested? A. No—I saw him the Friday, preiously—he remained without shaving, I think, as long as I saw him—all the hair on his face was growing, whiskersand and beard alike—he lived at first in Centre Street, Glasgow, south side—I think No. 52—I don't know with whom he lived—I was never in the house—he left, I think, some time in October—I don't know of any! permanent lodging that he occupied after that—the sympathy meeting was held at the Bell Hotel, Trongate, Glasgow, after the execution—Macorry was there and addressed the meeting—he told us that Dr. Gray suggested the demonstration should not take place—I know Mr. Hughes, a publican, Gascaven Street—there is no sign up, only "Thomas Hughes, spirit merchant"—he sent letter to me, and went to McNulty with that letter, and read it to him—the day I cannot fix, but it was three or four days after receiving the letter—I told Macorry of, that letter—I adhere to the statement that, I don't know of any other lodging of Barrett than that at Centre. Street—I went to no other lodging after receiving that letter—the letter contained instructions to fetch a red Crimean shirt and drawers from his lodgings, but I did not know where those lodgings were—I saw a Mr. Lewis, but I did not go to any old lodging—I did not see, Mullen—I feftew he had left the Centre Street lodgings, because he told me so himself—I came up with McNulty, Macorry, and the rest—Barrett, I believe, worked on the quay at Glasgow, something to do with loading ships, or that like—I that like—I have never seen him working on the quay, nor do I know for whom he worked—he told me himself he worked on the quay.

COURT. Q. Why did you not write back and tell him could not send the things to him, because you did not know when he had lived? A. I went and got new things for him in Glasgow instead. Q. Did you ever blow glass bulbs round a powder or any mineral substance in your life? A. No, I never blow anything but glass bottles—I am quite sure I never blew glass bulbs round powder or other mineral substance—I sympathized with the men who were executed—I did not approve of what they had done—I don't say with all what they had done; not altogether to that extent—I think they did wrong; still I was sorry for them.

PETER MACORRY . I am editor of a newspaper in Glasgow, the Irish Catholic Banner—I am also the proprietor—my duties bring me, in constant Communication with the Irish section; of the inhabitants of Glasgow—my

paper specially circulates among the Irish Catholic population—it is a weekly paper, published on Friday, but dated for Saturday—I know Michael Barrett—I first knew him eight or nine months ago—I met him walking on Glasgow Green, on a Sunday afternoon, and he was introduced to me by a gentleman called Frank Gallagher—Barrett then had small-sized light whiskers, about four inches long, from the ear, not below the chin, on the cheek only—I met him afterwards, often—I remember the execution of the Manchester prisoners, and the torchlight demonstration previously—a great many persons were present—Barrett was there—it was two days before the execution—I saw Barrett a few days afterwards, and thought the whisker on one side of the face was singed slightly—I was damaged by the torches—my overcoat was destroyed, and my own whiskers were partly singed—my coat was injured by the droppings from the torches—after the execution they were going to get up a funeral demonstration—I was waited on by a large number of working men to get it up—I protested against it; but I found it was of no use, so I consented to attend—it was never held at all, because the Roman Catholic Bishop of Glasgow made a communication to—I was chairman of the committee for the demonstration—the communication was made to me by the Rev. Alexander Munro, on Thursday morning, 12th December, to the effect that the bishop disapproved of the demonstration—he wanted the names of the committee—I gave the names of some of them—I only knew three or four—there were fifty-eight at the last meeting—on the following night (Friday) a meeting was held in the Bell Hotel, Glasgow—I was the chairman—I told the meeting the result of a deputation to the bishop, and his proposal to have a requiem high mass instead—the meeting decided that the demonstration should not take place—no that evening I saw Barrett in the Bell Hotel—after the meeting a few members retired to a small room for a cup of tea—I and Barrett were amongst that number—this (produced) is the paper that was published by me, it is the Glasgow Free Press, the name is now changed, but it is the same paper—it is dated December 21st, 1867, it contains a report of the meeting of the 13th December—that was the first paper published after the meeting of the 13th.

Cross-examined by MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Q. This paper, then, of December 14, published on the 13th, is your paper? A. Yes—I have no doubt I penned that article, "Scottish Catholic sympathy with the men who were murdered at Manchester"—it was not on Friday that I knew the requiem would be held, on Thursday—this notice of a solemn requiem for the repose of the souls of Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien, within a black margin is from my pen—this leading article, "Proposed funeral demonstration in honour of the three murdered men, Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien," I think is mine—I have no doubt of it—it begins, "It is with no little satisfaction we notice that the empty honour of a funeral demonstration has been changed for a solemn requiem high mass for our martyred brethren"—I was president of three or four of these meetings—they were not meetings of sympathy with the martyrs, they were preparatory meetings for the projected meeting on Glasgow Green—it was in honour of the martyrs, if it had taken place, but it did not—there was only one torchlight meeting—I attended no meeting before going to Glasgow Green—we did not meet at the Bell for the purpose of going there—I did not carry a torch myself—I was at a meeting in a private place of two or three individuals about getting bills printed—I don't know their names—I know few people in Glasgow by name, but a great many by

sight—Mr. Gallagher is a foeman tailor or cutter—I have known him for some time—he took an active part, and was a member of the committee—I presume he buys and reads my paper—I said Barett's whiskers were four inches in length from the ear when I first saw him about four inches long from the ear to the chin—I noticed that they appeared slightly singed on the night of the demonstration—I never knew Winslow, Brown, or Burke—I know there is such a person as Rickard Burke, by the papers; I don't know him myself—at the committee meeting on 13th December I counted fifty eight persons present, in counting votes on the bishop's proposal—I don't know where Gallagher lives in Glasgow, or Barrett's address; I never heard it—I understood Barrett was a stevedore—I don't know for whom he worked—I have known M' Manus between two and three years—he came from time to time to my place of business—I know two persons named Mullen—I have not seen Mullen lately—I know a gentlemen in Belfast, a stonecutter, named Murphy—I never had 18l. left in my hands for Mr. Murphy, or for Hastings—I know a person by sight called Kyne; I don't know how he spells his name—I have seen him once or twice at my place of business—he never placed any money in my hands for Murphy's wife, or anyone else—I have only seen him purchasing newspapers at my place—I stated in my paper that I was glad that a requiem high mass had taken the place of the funeral demonstration—this article in my paper of the 14th about Thompson is not written by me—sometimes I insert things without seeing them—I must have seen it after it was printed—this is it: "If proof were wanted to confirm our assertion that the three Irishmen were hanged, not for murder, but from a vindictive feeling, and to strike terror into the ranks of the Fenians, that proof would be afforded by the proceedings against the young man who is now awaiting his trial at the hands of 'English justice'"—I must have seen that.

MR. GREENE. Q. I suppose in your capacity of a journalist you see a large number of persons? A. A very large number, without knowing their addresses—I do not sympathize with Fenianism; on the contrary, I ascribe it to my influence over the working population of Irishmen in Scotland that they have been kept from Fenianism—I strongly suspect that I have been the means of preserving the working men from that influence, by my desire to keep them to such demonstrations as were legal—I strongly desired to persuade them even against demonstrations, but when I found they would have gone on by themselves I endeavoured to lead them—my articles have never had any Fenian tendencies, though they are written in an Irish national spirit.

COURT. Q. What do you mean by that? A. I mean the right of Irishmen to the same justice that exists in England and to legislative independence—I should say not with the view of the separation of Ireland from this country.

Q. But surely you would know? A. Well, then, I say no—I have never been prosecuted by the government for any matter of a political kind contained in my paper.

Q. Have any circumstances particularly impressed on your mind the fact of having seen Barrett, especially on that Friday evening? A. Yes, one or two things—he took an active part in guiding and controlling the demonstration, and in preserving order, and suffered by being burnt, and his clothes being injured—I notice him on that account—he wanted the

posting of bills throughout Glasgow announcing that demonstration—he was an active person on the committee for the proposed demonstration which, did not take place, and on this particular occasion we had great difficulty in getting the committee meeting to accept the proposal of Dr. Grey; the greatest possible difficulty on that Friday evening, because the people were determined to hold the demonstration, provided it were legal—I used every exertion to prevent it, and I believe he assisted me in permeating men's minds with my idea: hence my knowledge of him, and my desire to look upon him as an intelligent person—a few others in the same way assisted me in carrying out my project, but we had considerable difficulty in getting the meeting to accept the proposal of the bishop—six or seven persons were present at the tea—I knew them, all by eight—Barrett was one, Gallagher was another.

The following Witness was called in reply:—

AEXANDER MCCAUL . I am superintendent of the police at Glasgow—in January last I saw a document sent from London—I read it, and went to McNulty on Sunday, 26th January—I saw him, and asked him sotne questions, noting down his answers in this book (produced)—I had not known him before—what he stated was in answer to my question—I told him who I was—I asked him whether he had heard of the Clerkenwoll explosion—he said he had first heard of it from O'Neil; that he had known O'Neil for about four months, and was introduced to him by a man named Campbell—he said "O'Neil came into my house for 2s. 6d. on the Friday morning of the affair, and James Lewis, shoemaker, was in the house at the time, and I told O'Neil to call in the evening for payment; he called same evening, between 4 and 5 o'clock, and he did hot get payment, as I had not got money for work. On Saturday morning he called in the forenoon, and I gave him a shilling, and took as much tea as made up the shilling. I remember the date of the Clerkenwell affair from the fact that O'Neil left, on Saturday morning, that morning's Herald; and James Lewis came in after 2 o'clock, and read the account of it which had happened the day before. When O'Neil was in on Friday, Lewis was the only one in the house but my own family; there was no one in when O'Neil called on Saturday. I never had any men working to me, and certainly none about that time. I never heard Barrett's name, nor-do I know him at all; he never was introduced to me by O'Neil. I never-repaired any boots for O'Neil. I don't remember any man coming to my house about that time to get them buttoned"—that was in answer to a question I asked him, if he had any recollection of a man coming to his house to get a pair of boots "buttoned"—I asked him if he did not remember a man coming back, and that the work was undone, and he kicked up a row—he said he had no remembrance of such a thing—I asked him if he remembered a man who had brought some work for him sending out for a newspaper and reading the Clerkenwell affair—he said ho did not, and that such a thing could not have taken place without his remembering it—I asked him if he knew anyone of the name of Hughes—he said "No: "

Cross-examined by MR. GREENE Q. Did you receive some information from London? A. I had a copy of a letter from London; It was given to me by the chief constable—I did not receive it through the post—I told McNulty that I was a superintendent of police.

COURT. Q. Why did you say "buttoned"? A. I knew that the word used in the copy of the letter was "buttoned".

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL to MICHEL MCNULTY. Q. Do you remember when McCall came to your house? A. Yes, on the Sunday—I did tell him O'Neil called on the Friday for 2s. 6d.; that he called the same evening, between four and five, and I could not pay him; that on Saturday morning he called between 10 and 12, as near as I could guess, that I gave a him and took a shilling's-worth of tea—I said O'Neil came on Saturday morning and left the morning's Herald; that James Lewis, the Shoemaker, came in, as near as possible at 2 o'clock, I could not tell to a moment, and read the account; that when O'Neil and Lewis were there, there was no one in the house but myself and family; that, when O'Neil came on Saturday morning, thee was no one n the house but my own family, and that there was no one with me when he came—he asked me if I ever employed any men, and I said "No"—he asked me if I ever worked for shops—I said, "Sometimes I do and sometimes I do not"—I never said that I had no men working for me, I said that I could not employ any men, I was working at a shop myself, those were the words I said—I said that I did not know Barrett, no more I did.

Q. That no such man was introduced by O'Neil? A. Never; he asked me if anybody introduced him in my place, and I said "Never"—I said that I never buttoned any boots in my life, in the house—I told him I had not done any boots since I had been there.

Q. Did you tell him he came again and kicked up a row? A. I did not understand what he meant by a row—he asked me what her I called in two men, I said "What was it for, to assist me or to throw him down stairs", he said that he did not know; he completely humbugged me—I do not remember saying that he did not come back and find them still undone and kick up a row—I cannot be perfectly sure, whether I said I did not remember any man sending out for a newspaper and reading the Clerkenwell affair.

Q. Did you say "If I did so I was drunk?" A. That was in the buttoning the boots, not about the paper; I said "If I buttoned any boots I was drunk when I done it"—I did not say that I did not know any person named Hughes, a publican, I said that I did know him.

COURT to CHARLES MCMANUS. Q. You said in the month of October last Barrett left his lodgings in Centre Street? A. As nearly as I can recollect he told me it was October, I rather think about the beginning as near as I can recollect—I did lose sight of him for a little time; I met him occasionally afterwards—from the time he told me he left his lodgings, it might he three or four weeks before I met him again—I generally met him every three or four weeks, or two weeks sometimes—the last day I took notices of him he was in my house, and took tea with me—there was a man there and a woman, who also saw him—I know it because it was Halloween in Scotland—I saw him gain the next week, and again after that, it might be the end of November, or the beginning of December, I cannot recollect the exact date—I did not lose sight of him then, I saw him about a week after that—I all this time made inquiry where he was staying, but he was dilatorty in telling me where he stopped—he was a great deal put about by circumstances—he had been a long time bed with sore eyes, and afterwards with a giddiness in his head—he could not work—I advanced him a little money, as he was in straightend circumstances—he told me he would pay

me as soon as he was able—I said, "Never mind"—I asked him several times where he was lodging, and never learned—I, believe he was lodging in some of the common lodging houses—I believe he went sometimes there—the reason I know it is, that he left me one night and said that he was going to a lodging house in the Trongate—that is convenient to the Tron Steeple, between the Tron Steeple and the Cross—when I got the letter from London I did not write any answer—I sent him the clothes that he desired, at least others instead—he tells me in the letter to go to his lodgings and get certain things.

Q. What did you understand from that, seeing that he had declined to tell you where he was living? A. He told me I was to call on a man named Lewis, and he was to take me to his lodging house and get those things, as near as I can recollect—I did not go to his old lodging; I thought by his saying I was to go there that I was to see Mr. Lewis—I did not know Mr. Lewis then—I know him now—he is a shoemaker, I believe—I do not know his house—I was taken to the Calton to see him—I do not know whether he is the landlord of that lodging, I made no inquiry—I asked him if he knew the lodging—he said that he had not time to go and see just now—I felt for Barrett, and sent him some things myself.

WILLIAM DESMOND, TIMOTHY DESMOND, and ENGLISH— NOT GUILTY .

BARRETT— GUILTY DEATH

WAWICKSHIRE CASEOLD COURT.—Tuesday April 28th, 1868; and following days.

Before Mr. Baron Bramwell (with Mr. Justice Keating).

Reference Number: t18680406-413

413. GEORGE BERRY alias RICKARD BURKE , alias WINSLOW alias WALLACE (35), JOSEPH THEOBALD CASEY (23), and HENRY SHAW alias MULLIDY (26), were indicted for that they, together with divers other persons unknown, did feloniously, wickedly, and unlawfully compass, devise, and intend to depose Our Lady the Queen from the style, honor, and royal name of the Imperial Crown of the United Kingdom, and that they did manifest such intention by certain overt acts set out in the indictment. In other counts, the overt acts were alleged to have taken place in Ireland, and in the county of Warwick, from which county the case was removed to this Court, under 19th and 20th Vic. cap. 16.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL, MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL , MR H. S. GIFFARD,

MR. Poland, and MR. ARCHIBALD conducted the Prosecution; MR. JONHS with MR. MCDONALD appeared for Burke, MR. F. H. LEWIS for Casey, and MR. PATER for shaw.

MR. ERNEST JONES , on Behalf of Burke, applied to the Court for a jury de medictate linguce, upon a suggestion that he was an alien. The ATTORNEY GENERAL submitted that the mere suggestion of his brig an alien was not sufficient, without the further statement that he was not a natural born subject of Her Majesty, and called the attention of the Court to the recent case of the Queen v. Warren, tried in Dublin, in support of his view. MR. BARON BRAMWELL (after hearing MR. JONES) received the suggestion, but on the footing that it meant he was not a natural born subject. the ATTORNEY GENERAL. having traversed the suggestion, the Jury were sworn to try the issue. MR. JONES, in support of his suggestion, put in a Passport, and called MR. DE TRACEY

GOULD, a member of the American bar, with a view of showing that such a Passport was only granted to natural born citizens of the United States. The ATTORNEY GENERAL objected to the evidence, and MR. BARON BRAMWELL was clearly of opinion that it was not receivable; the Jury therefore found that the prisoner was not an alien, and the case proceeded before the ordinary Jury.

JAMES THOMPSON . I am an inspector of the detective police—on the night of 27th December last I went to Clarendon Street, St. Pancras—John Devany was with me—we saw Burke and Casey, and followed, them—Devany made a communication to me—I then got the assistance of a constable in uniform (E 33)—Devany then left me—I and the stopped Burke and Casey in Woburn Square—I tapped Burke on the shoulder, and said, "I am Inspector Thompson, of the detective police, and hold a warrant for the apprehension of Rickard Burke for a serious offence; I have reason to believe you are the person, and you must therefore consider yourself a prisoner, and accompany me to the nearest police-station"—he said, "I am not the man at all. I don't know what you mean"—I said, "Then tell me who and what you are"—he said, "I am George Bowrie, a medical student, just arrived from Hamburg"—I said, "Well, whether Burke or Bowrie you must come with me to the station"—he demanded to see my warrant—I said he would see it at the, proper time and place, and he refused to go with me—the constable took hold on one side and I on the other—I told him I should compel him to go with me, and we commenced to pull and drag him—he resisted and struggled—Casey interfered, and struck me several blows—after that Burke became quiet, and we walked on to the end of Russell Square—there he suddenly stopped, and said, "I demand to see your warrant"—I said, "I will show it by-and-bye"—on that he said, "Come, let me go"—I answered, "No"—the then made a sudden effort and wrenched himself out of my grasp, threw the constable off on the other side, and made off—I started in pursuit, when Casey came up and struck me several blows, and tried to prevent me going after him—I pushed him on one side and went after Burke, who had only gone a short distance—I pulled out my revolver, and said, "By God, Burke, if you don't stop I will fire on you"—he said, "Don't do anything desperate"—we then took hold of him again—I called on the bystanders to assist me, but they did not seem disposed to assist me or the prisoners—I got Burke into a cab—Casey wanted to get in—we prevented him, and got away—we went to Bow Street polioe-Station—Casey followed in another cab—I placed Burke in the inspector's room, and charged him with treason-felony—I sent for Deniay—he came into the room, and I asked him if he knew anyone in the room—he pointed to the prisoner, and said, "That is Rickard Burke"—I then proceeded to search Burke—he said, "You may rest assured you will find no treasonable documents on me"—I searched him, and found various little things on him, and some money—I asked him what name I was to put on the list—he said George Berry—I told him he gave the name Bowrie at first—he said, "That must be a mistake"—and he spelled Berry—he said he was a medical student and had recently come from Hamburg—I asked him for his address—he said he could not tell me where it was, but if I would go out with him he would show me; that it was at an hotel somewhere in the, neighbourhood of Regent Street—Casey had come to the station with Burke, and I directed that he should not be allowed to leave—he said his name was Joseph Theobald Casey, he had been assistant station-master at Gleethorpe, Lincolnshire, in the employment of the Great Northern Railway Company, and

had recently come to town—I believe he said he had been lodging at different lodging houses—he would not give me any positive address—I think he said he had been staying with Burke.

Cross-examined by MR. ERNEST JONES. Q. When you searched Burke I presume you took everything ho had from him. A. I did, and all has since been in the possession of the police—Devany did not leave by my instructions—I missed him—I was slightly surprised at it—I had not at that time a warrant in my pocket for the arrest of Burke.

Cross-examined by MR. F. H. LEWIS. Q. Casey did not commence to strike until you pushed and dragged Burke? A. Yes, when I took hold of him and was about to force him on, Caseyinterfered—there was scarcely anyone there then; persons came up afterwards—I did not know anything about Casey then—he followed us to the station of his own accord—I cannot saw whether ho was or not charged with treason felony until Mr. Kynoch was him—I believe it was at Bow Street station that Casey told me he had been staying with Burke, or that he had been with him—I am speaking from memory—I gave evidence at Bow Street—I was under the impression that he meant that he was staying at the same place with Burke—he said that his name was Joseph Theobald Casey—I have made inquiries and find that correct, and that he was a porter in the service of the Great Northern Railway, at Gleethorpe in Linconshire—I found that correct, that he had come up to town on the previous Saturday, and I found that he left the service of the Great Northern Railway Company on the previous Saturday—I have not ascertained that for a long time before December, 1865, he was in the service of Pickford and Co.—I made every possible inquiry to find where he was in 1865 but have not discovered that, or that after he came to London he was stopping with his mother at 28, Rupert Street; he might have been their.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. Did you make a statement at Bow Street, as to what he said about that? A. Yes. he said, "Casey did not give me any address"—(Reading hit deposition.)

MR. LEWIS. Q. Did you say "He said 'I have been living with my friend' meaning Burke?" A. "Living with my friend" and pointing to the next room where Burke was; it was not "Living with my friends"—I do not know where Burke lived—I have made inquiry and cannot find out.

COURT. Q. You say that he said "I have been living with my friend," and that he pointed, did it happen that he pointed towards Rupert Street? A. No, Rupert Street is more to the left—he did not point in the direction of Rupert Street—Burke and Casey came together to the street when I was waiting for them, they were-conversing together and went away together, conversing the whole time.

BENJAMIN FORDHAM (Policeman E 33). On the evening of 20th November, I was on duty in Tavistock Square, in uniform—Inspector Thompson came up to me, and I accompanied him to Woburn Square, where I saw Burke and Casey walking side by side—Thompson touched Burke on the shoulder and told him he held a warrant for his arrest, and said, "I must take you in custody, you must consider yourself my prisoner"—Casey was by, and near enough to hear—Burke said "You have made a mistake, I am not the person at all, my name is George Bowrie, I am a medical student just arrived from Hamburgh"—Thompson said "Whether you are Burke you must go along with us"—we both took hold of him, and after some resistance took him to the station in a cab, and ho was looked up—I afterwards saw Casey at the station he was detained and locked up also—Thompson

was in plain clothes—when Burke was taken, Casey asked us what we meant by taking his friend in that manner—Casey resisted and tried to get Burke away from us, he struck me in the breast, and struck Thompson as well, I believe—I was obliged to draw my truncheon.

JOHN JOSEPH CORYDON . I am twenty-six years of age—I was formerly in the Federal army of the United States, first as a private, and afterwards as a lieutenant—I was in the Federal army in 1862, and knew the prisoner Burke at that time—he was a sergeant in the Federal army, and then became lieutenant and captain in the 15th New York Engineers—I became a Fenian in 1862—I took an oath; it was to overthrow the British Government in Ireland, and to establish a republic in its stead—I remained a Fenian until 1866, and attended several Fenian meetings—I saw Burke at a meeting at the head-quarters of the leaders of the Fenian organization—that meeting was held in Douane Street, New York—John O'Mahony, Colonel Roberts, the vice-president, and several of the leading members of the Fenian organisation were there—O'Mahony was at the head of the Fenian organization in America—there were none but leaders there—I left for Ireland after the meeting in 1865—military men were sent to Ireland to command the Irish people in the event of a rising—Burke took part in that conversation, and agreed to that—I landed in Ireland in August, 1865—I saw, in Ireland, Colonel Thomas Kelly—I knew him Intimately—he was a leading man next to Stephens, in Ireland—I saw Stephens in South Ann Street, Dublin—I brought him some despatches from O'Mahony—Stephens was at the head of the Fenian organization in Ireland—he was in prison for a time while I was in Ireland—after he was in prison, I was sent from Ireland to America with despatches from Colonel Kelly to O'Mahohy—Colonel Kelly was in command of the organization in Ireland after Stephens was in prison—I took the despatches to America, and delivered them to O'Mahony—I did not see Burke in America at that time—I passed on two occasions between America and Ireland; once was after the convesation I have spoken of—I was in Ireland in February, 1866—the Habeas Corpus was then suspended there—I was there when it was suspended; it was aftercoming from America the last time—on its being suspended; it Captain Beecher, whose proper name is O'Rourke, ordered me to leave Ireland and go to Liverpool as paymaster of the organization, and I went to Liverpool in Company with other American officers—when I was in Liverpool, Fenian meetings of those officers were held in several places—I saw Burke in Liverpool from April or May, 1866, down to October or November for weeks at a time, but sometimes not for four, five, or six weeks—I did not go to America during 1866—Burke attended Fenian meetings at Liverpool, at which plans were discussed and circles formed for the benefit of the organization—it was part of the organization that circles should be formed, the different members of the Fenian Brotherhood heading the different circles—circles were formed in America and Liverpool—I belonged to the military circle from America—Burke did not belong to a circle in Liverpool; he was an American officer like myself, just a I was—circle were formed in Liverpool,—with the exception of those for American officers—I belonged to the military circle formed in liverpool—the centre of a circle who has men enough to form a regiment can do so; if it is not large enough for that, he is caption of the company; and if it is not large enough for that, he becomes captain of that circle—no other—arrangements were made or discussed in Liverpool during 1866; we

paid money, and that was about all, with the exception of receiving money from the organization sometimes—Burke was present at those discussions, but he was told off for the buying of arms, he and Shaw, or Mullidy—I saw them in Liverpool during 1866—I knew him as Harry Mullidy, he was very often at the Fenian meetings, he is the same person as Mullidy—I heard from Mullidy that he was with Burke, buying arms, but no directions were given to him in my presence—I saw both Burke and Mullidy in Liverpool—after coming from America Burke was sent home from James Stephens to see the American officers in Liverpool—Stephens was then in Paris; he and the American officer often came from America—Mullidy told me that Burke came from America in company with nine others—Fenian meetings were held in Liverpool in the early part of January and February, 1867, at which Burke and Mullidy were both present—the first time I saw Burke in 1867 was this meeting I was telling you of, when he came from Stephens to the Directory which was formed in London—all the American officers were present—Beecher, Captain Dohany, Major Penn, two Captain O'Brien's, Lieutenant Joyce, and about twenty in all—Burke represented himself as sent by Stephens to know whether the American officers in Liverpool were satisfied with the steps taken by the Directory in London to take the power out of his hands; whether they would be satisfied in throwing him overboard for this Directory, as it was a self-constituted affair—something was said about planning the attack on Chester Castle—it was talked of at this meeting, but not finally settled—I attended another meeting, at which it was finally settled—Captain McCafferty, John Flood, the head organizer for England after Stephens left, Major Quin, Mullidy, two centres from Liverpool, and all the American officer of the American Army then in Liverpool, as nearly as I can tell, were present—Burke and Mullidy had been present at the previous meetings, but only Mullidy was present when it was finally decided—it was arranged that men should go from Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds, and other large towns to Chester, and obey the orders of their centres—in all there were to be 2, 500 men—Chester Castle was to be attacked, the arms were to be taken out, the mail train was to be seized, and the wires and rails to be torn—this train was to proceed to Holyhead with the arms, and the mail boat at Holyhead was to be seized and the arms put in it, and they were to make the captain of that ship land them where they liked in Ireland—Captain McCafferty was sent by the Directory to command—they were going to have arising or a fight in Ireland and Liverpool, and all the other large towns, as soon as the rising took place in Ireland, were to be burnt by Greek fire—the night of 11th February was fixed for the attack on Chester Castle—the last meeting was about three nights before 11th February—I was at Birkenhead and Liverpool on 11th February—I saw a lot of the men whom I knew to be Fenians go and take the train at Birkenhead for Chester—I had given information to the Government in September, 1866—I went to Birkenhead on 11th February, but did not go to Chester—I knew a man named Lawrence at Liverpool, from April to the summer of 1866; he is since dead—he was a Fenian, and I saw him at Fenian meetings—I have seen him in company with Burke and Mullidy at Liverpool—I had tea with Mullidy sometimes in Salisbury Street, where he lodged with a Mrs. Blackmore—he lodged there with four or five others, all Fenians—Thomas Farrell, who was at one time head centre at Liverpool, Harry Burn, John Lennon, and William Pentony—Farrell went to America, and so did Mullidy after

the seizure of some Greek fire—Farrell went first—I saw McCafferty, who was to command at Chester, convicted in Dublin—I did not see him on 11th February—I received orders about six days after 11th February, to go to the Zoological Gardens at Liverpool, and was there told to go to Ireland, and remain there until we received farther orders as to the rising that was to take place—I saw Mullidy get 30s., the same as I received; he was to go to Drogheda—all the Americans who were there got orders, and were sent to different districts in the country, to wait till they got final instructions—I went by myself.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Did you know Burke until you were in New York? A. I knew him in the Army—I cannot say when he got his commission—I saw him in an officer's uniform—his colonel, was John Macleod Murphy—I do not know whether Burke had been to South America a good deal; I never heard him speak of having been to Chili—he never told me what he was before he entered the Army—the Directory that was to supersede Stephens was commenced to be formed in the latter end of 1866 and at the beginning of 1867, it was nearly finished—I was not in London; I only heard it from our messengers whom we send to bring us news—I first saw Burke, in Liverpooly in Aptil or May, 1866; I have no doubt of that was in January 1867, Burke told me he was sent by Stephens about the formation of the Directory—I first saw Mullidy in April, 1866—Lawrence was never a prisoner—I mentioned his name before the Magistrate, but do not remember whether it was at the second examination—4 should think I had been examined three or four times before—I also said that Borke received money in the summer of 1866, for the purchase of arms in Sheffield; I have not the date—l received payment at the same time, sometimes more and sometimes less; sometimes 5l., and sometimes 2l.—I saw Burke receive money for the storage of arms; 1 do not know how much; there might be a 50l. note and there might be a 5l.—I saw there were notes—my name is John Joseph—I was christened at Bally lough—my name is not Jeremiah—I was never in Manchester till. I went on Fenian business—I am half and half, between Protestant and Roman Catholic—my father was e Protestaat, and my mother a Roman Catholic—what am I? I am a Christian—I do not know Mr. Daniel Lee—l was not taken care of by him—I am on my oath, and I tell you positively I was not—the mother of that Jeremiah Corydon came up as far as Scotland Yard, and inquired for me, and I went to see her—she said that her son, ten years ago, married a widow; but I am not that Jeremiah Corydon—I have never been in London before these Fenian trials—I joined the Federals—I was in the volunteers during the war they were paid off just according to, the same principle as the regulars, they got the same amount—I have given, evidence so many times on Fenian trials that I cannot count them; the first was against Colonel Tom Burke; that was about a year ago—I have had nothing for it yet, only my maintenance—I got my board and clothing, but never onepenny of money for the trial—I cannot say what the next case was, there were twenty or thirty—the next was not Captain Morimrty, he was tried in Kerry—it was not McCafferty—I was in, O'Dell and Mahoney's case—I was not a witness against Welsh, at Limerick—Pugh, Burke aid Daran were the firs—think Halpin was another, and Marlish another, and I cannot say how many more—O'Dell and O'Mahoney were acquitted—I swore on O'Dell's trial that he swore me in as a Fenian—he was, I believe, acquitted—I saw him on the tender going, to America, when I arrsted General

Halpin—I got no money at the trial of Burke and Doran—I did not give information first of all for money—they were tried in April or May, 1867—I did not swear on that trial that I received 50l. as soon as I gave the information; I was asked if I received any money before those trials, and I said that I did, but not for any one trial or other: all I got was my board and clothing and protection—I emphatically deny swearing that I received 50l. when I gave the information, and I as emphatically swear that I have received no money whatever up to this time, except for the necessaries of life: enough to give me plenty to eat and drink—I have certainly not received 500l., I cannot say as to 250l.—I expect to be well remunerated for my services—I have done the country a great deal of good, and you know it as well as I do—I expect some thousands of pounds, not from this country but from Ireland—it was about the middle of September that I first gave the information with regard to Liverpool—I am sure it was September, but am not surer of the date—I told the authorities just enough to let them know that there was a thing going on called Fenianism, for them to be prepared for any attack that might be made—what was the use of arresting people in Liverpool, I could not take them over, there was no Habeas Corpus—I did not tell them of every fool of a man who was a Fenian: I told them about the generals—I told them about the Greek fire: I intimated so much to the authorities, and they seized upon it—I did not tell them the names of the persons holding it, but only where it was stocked—I was not the person who made it—I continued to give information in September, October; November, and December; 1866—I gave the names of a great many of the American officers in Liverpool, and the addresses of many—I told where the public-house was, where the meetings were held, and they broke up the meetings: that was in November and December, 1860—I gave their names the first time I gave information, but the authorities could not have arrested them: they were doing nothing; if the police came in they were playing at dominees, or something else—during that time I received Fenian pay: 1l. a week, and sometimes 3l.—they would have suspected me if I had stopped receiving my pay, and I could not have carried on my game—I was the confidential friend of the leaders, and held the rank of lieutenant: so much so, that Stephens trusted his life in my hands, and left letters which had to be delivered five or six days after he left—I had nothing to do with swearing in men: I was an American—I swore in Fenians in America, but swearing them in here was out of the sphere of my duty—I did not give information to the Liverpool police in writing—I wrote a note to some of them if I wanted to see them about some particular business: that was all the writing I had, the rest was verbal—I cannot say how many Fenians I swore in in the United States—they make a pledge there, they do not swear any, more; but they did in 1861 and up to 1862—I swore them in the on a prayerbook of bible, sometimes one and sometimes the other—I did not swear them in in Liverpool; it was not my business, or tiny American's business—during the time I was giving information I did not stipulate for money—I never received a reward, or spoke about receiving one—New Acorn Street, New York was the head-quarters of the Fenian organization—they were giving no rewards—I never spoke to any man in America about a reward, or I could have got all the rewards.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. If I understand you rightly, you were several times before the Magistrate at Bow Street? A. Three or four times—I

have not read any newspaper reports for the, last week; I don't as a rule, read the papers—I did not, for reasons, read, the reports in the papers during the time this matter was before the Police Magistrate at Bow Street—the reasons were, thinking that you might be asking me about Bow street now, you or any counsellor—had no curiosity, in the least, to see what was stated in the newspapers—I did not pay much attention to the papers unless it was something about Abyssian affairs, or something of that, kind—I was in Court some days last week, during trial arising out of the Clerkenwell explosion, but not all the days; for three days I may say, and then I was not in court, all day—I generally came at 1, and stopped till 3—I did not know Massey to be a spy—he was acting on one side and the other—I was not sitting beside him—I got to know him the last day of Febuary, 1867—he was a genearal of the Fenian organization—I am positive I saw Mullidy in April; and I asked him to Gibbon's house at the time they went to America—the first time I was here was in April, 1866—I told the gentleman who examined me first that I was at Mrs. Blackmore's, in Salisbury street, where I first met him; but I have stated also that, I have had tea with him at Mrs. Blackmore's, house—I did not say that it was there I first met him—I saw him several times—I met him first at Austin Gibbons'—I did not state that to the Solicitor General, because he did not ask me—i have seen him several times—the information I have given has been volunteered—the solicitor General asked me where I saw him first—I said I saw him at, his lodging, and he saw me at my lodging—the Solicitor General inquired of me whether I met him at any place, and I said "Yes"—I was positive all the time that was in April I first met Mullidy; and I knew him up to the time he went to America—I first saw him in Liverpool, in Austin Gibbons', in Queen Anne Street; that was in April, 1866.

Q. Being positive all the time, will, you tell the jury your reason for having sworn before the Magistrate "I had never, to my knowledge, seen Mullidy before May, 1866?" A. I think you will find it, April or May there—I said so when I was first, examined before the Magistrate—I first knew him in April or May, 1866—a question afterwards arose, and I said perhaps a month before or a month after—my deposition was read over to me before I signed it—I can't say whether it was read over more than once—very likely it was read over three times—the examination before the Magistrate had taken place a week or so, before Mullidy was brought before the Magistrate had taken place a week or so before Mullidy was brought before for a time—I was sent there from Ireland—I came in April, 1866, and was ordered to go back in February, 1867—I stated before the 30s. which I have mentioned to-day as having been received by mullidy—we all received it at the zoological gardens—that was to take us to Ireland until we got more money, and had a rising—if I had not say so I knew I got it—Mullidy and I were on very intimate terms as any two friends maybe, two sworn brothers.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERL. Q. You have been asked whether you knew Muillidy, do I understand that you knew him well and were intimate with him? A. Yes—I have not the least doubt that he is the man—I was a Fenian and was in America in 1862—I did not swear in my Fenians after that—I did not enter into communication with the government till September, 1866, and then I volunteered myself—I did swindling as I called it, for I was pretty well swindled—I answered the

questions I was asked before the Magistrate—I was examined in the Clerkenwell case as a witness for a short time—that was when I saw Massey—I gave evidence in Ireland against Mc Cafferty, and also against General Halpin—he was a man I had seen in command—he was in command of the Dublin district—that was upon the rising which took place on the 5th March—I have seen General Halpin in Ireland and America—I have seen him at Fenian meetings in America—I saw him at head-quarters, and I knew him to be one of the head council in Dublin—I was present at meetings in America when Burke was there—he was there on every occasion.

JOHN DEVANY . In the course of 1865 I was in New York, and in that year became a member of the Fenian Brotherhood—the objects of the Brotherhood are to make war against the British Government in Ireland, and to make Ireland a Republic—meetings were held in New York for the purpose of that organization, and money and arms were collected—I saw Rickard Burke at one of them—that was in I865—he had been in the Army and was known as Captain Burke—in the Fenian organization he was a member of the Committee of Safety of Brother Shears' circle, to which I also belonged—I came to this country about the second week in January, 1866—I saw Burke in London last summer—I met him on Hungerford Bridge, but did not speak to him—I think it was August or September—I saw him in America about a year after he returned from Ireland, at a meeting—he then told me he had been in Ireland and in London, and passed himself off as Major Winslow, of the Confederate service, and that he had been "doing the thing" in London—I asked him if there was any chance of success—he said he thought there was every chance of success, for while he had been in Ireland he had seen the men crying because they were not allowed to fight; that the men in Ireland would fight, and because they were not allowed to fight, while he was there he had seen them crying—that conversation was a few months before I came to this country—I came early in 1867, and saw Burke last came—I pointed him out to Thompson at the time of his arrest.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. You came to England, I think you say, in the second week in January, 1867? A. About that time—I came from New York—I had not seen Burke for two or three weeks before I left New York, so I concluded that he was there—I did say before the Magistrate, I left Burke in New York, that he went to Ireland about January, 1866, and returned about July—I said that I would not be certain to a month or two as to dates; I remember it was very cold weather—I said before the Magistrate, I left America in January, 1866, but the prisoner Burke remained, but I had not seen him, of course, for a few days—I have been in Corydon's company since I have been before the Magistrate—we are not sleeping together, but I see him once in a while, not every day, but two or three days a week, since I have been before the Magistrate—I read the newspapers, and sometimes read those containing reports of the Fenian trials—I was was in Court for a few minutes last week during the Clerkenwell trials—I was not examined—I was summoned to come—I returned from Ireland in July or August, 1866—I do not know, how much money I have received for the information I have given—it was I suppose, above 200l. on 23rd November, 1867—I do not know how much I have received since, I have not kept an account, it might by 100l. or more, not 200l.—I have not thought yet about how much or how little my reward will be—I did not give the information for the reward—I have been to Paris for

three days, I went to see the Exhibition—I went by myself, with some of the money I got from the Government—I was in the American National Guard, the 15th New York—as soon as I expected I should be called upon to fight I left—I was never accused of felony—I knew John Kellyer, of 50, Norfolk Street, New York—I did not put my hands in his pocket to steal money—I was out with him one night when he was drunk, and I tried to get him home, but he fell into a sewer—I heard that he had said he lost some money, but he dare not accuse me of anything—I have not read a letter from him accusing me; he would accuse me of anything now, I suppose, because he is an ardent Fenian—if he thought I stole the money he knew where to find me—I first gave information in the latter part of 1866—I never received Fenian pay—I have paid myself for hiring a hall and band of music two or three days, and I paid myself—there was a disturbance because it was said that I took too much—I said that I did not—I never saw Burke in Liverpool—I saw Burke on Hunger ford Bridge, about August last, in the afternoon—I cannot tell you the time—it was warm weather.

MR. GIFFARD. Q. When was it that this took place about the gentleman who was drunk? A. A couple of years ago—it was in New York—he and I had been drinking together—I think it was in the summer of 1866, we had been looking at a procession—I remained long enough in New York after that, and he remained also—I heard that he said that I was in his company when he fell down a sewer—he never took me before a Magistrate—he knew where to find me.

COURT. Q. Are you Irish born? A. I was born in the north of Ireland.

GODFREY MASSEY . I am an Irishman—I went to America in 1856, and joined the Confederate Army, and became a lieutenant-colonel—in 1865 I joined the Fenian Brotherhood—I first saw Stephens in October, 1866, at 19, Cheetham Street, New York—he was chief of the organization—Colonel Kelly was his deputy—I knew Captain Burke first at New York, in October, 1866—I saw him with Stephens and Kelly, sometimes at the central office, 19, Cheetham Street, and sometimes at Stephens's lodgings—I knew McCafferty, General Halpin, Cluseret, and Colonel Burke—they were all Fenian—I have seen all in Burke's company at various times—towards the end of 1866 meetings took place at New York—in December there was a mixed meeting, composed of men who had seen military service and Irish centers—Burke was there, McCafferty, Cluseret, Stephens, Kelly, and others—Stephens stated the number of arms in his possession in New York was not more than 4000, or less than one-seventh of the fixed minimum that he counted upon, viz. 30, 000—that was the smallest amount they would begin with—it was determined there should be a rising in Ireland as soon as the officers could be sent across and provisions got in—a purely military meeting took place a few days after—Burke was present, also all the military officers I have named, and others I don't remember—officers then volunteered their services for the intended rising—Burke volunteered—they were first to go to England, and there wait instructions about the intended rising in Ireland—the time of rising was not named—I left New York on 11th January, 1867—before that Stephens was deposed, it being proved that he was a fraud—I came alone—I had not seen Burke for three weeks previously—I had not seen him going to the vessel, bat I know tickets were procured, I procured some myself—I came from Liverpool to London on my arrival and soon after saw Burke—I asked him to find lodgings—I went and lodged

at 7, Tavistock Street, Tottenham Court Road—Burke took the lodgings, and he lived there with me—I went by the name of Cleburne and Burke went by the name of Wallace—it was about the end of January—Colonel Kelly lived at 5, North Crescent, Chenies Street, and went by the name of Coleman—I saw General Halpin in London; he lodged with Kelly for some time—I don't remember the name he went by; it was something like Freeman—Kelly was then the head of the organization—I gave instructions to various officers from General Cluseret, with money to proceed to Ireland, and amongst others to Burke—I told him to go to Macroom, county Cork, and get into communication with the local organization, and make himself acquainted with the resources of the district—when the order was given for the rising, the railways were to be "tapped," small portions of the telegraphs cut, and the bridges over the military roads destroyed—he was to take charge of all armed men in that section—Burke left the house where we were lodging early in February—I do not knew whether he left London—I was not pay-master in London, although I held the money and distributed it—I had 550l., which Colonel Kelly gave me in New York—I gave Burke about 15l, all told—the other officers got sums varying from 12l. to 30l.—I did not give money to General Halpin—I gave some to Ebsworth, Captain Neeson, Captain Dohany and others, about thirty, I think—there was a meeting at Colonel Kelly's, before I left London on the 10th of February for ublin—the Fenian representatives of the provinces of Ireland were resent—they wore the Directory—they were Harbuison of Belfast, Mahoney of Cork, and Bryne of Dublin—we drew up a paper showing why recourse was had to a rising in Ireland—it was partly addressed to the English people—the date of the rising was not determined on before I left—General Cluseret lodged at 137, Great Portland Street, with General Fariola, a lieutenant-colonel in the American volunteer army—I went to Kingstown and Dublin—I was to mobilise the troops, such as they were, and take charge of them till such time as Cluseret should come over—I received a letter from Burke, which I destroyed—it was from Waterford, asking for more money and ammunition to fit a Colt revolver—I knew Burke as Wallace, and he told me he had borne the name of E. C. Winslow in the districts about Birmingham, where he had been to purchase fire arms for the Brotherhood—he said that he had sent them to Ireland, and that one or two cases had been seized at Queenstown by the police—he said that he had received credit for a short time for several hundred poundt—I think it was about 900l., I am not sure—I returned to London twice from Ireland, and on my second visit, about the 24th or 25th February, for instructions—I expected that the Chester affair would fail, I am not sure whether I knew that it had failed—I said only a part of a day in London—I learned that the rising was to be the 5th of March, at midnight—General Halpin commanded the Dublin district—I was all over the country pretty much, I went to all the principal cities, to have a look at the disposition of the Queen's troops and see what resources the organization had in the way f arms and ammunition—on the night of the 4th of March I left Cork, and was arrested at Limerick Junction two hours after—I remained in custody for some months, and then I turned informr—I was present at General Halpin's trial in Ireland, and also at Colonel Burke's trial, where I was principal witness—Colonel Halpin went by the name of fletcher in London.

Cross-examined by MR. E JONES. Q. Did you know Captain Burke intimately in New York? A. For a short time—I knew nothing of his antecedents—I

could not say whether he had been largely connected with the South American States; I can't say that I know it now—I believe he has spoken to me about Chili and those countries, but I don't know to what extent he was connected with them—I believe he had some connation with them—I never received payment from the Fenian organization myself, and therefore I can't say whether it is the rule that no payment shall be made in the presence of a third party—the money I gave to the officers in London, I did not look upon as payments—I gave money to the officers when several were present—I can't speak to any rule or custom, in the Brotherhood, as to how the money shall be paid—I arrived in New York on 3rd October, from New Orleans—I was absent from New York for some time after that, in December—most of that time I was travelling privately with Stephens through the largest eities in America; Washington, Philadelphia, and others—I am not positive whether Burke was in New York in November, 1866, because I was absent from New York the most of that months, and part or December—he was there when I returned from Washington, in December—I had seen him in New York, I should think, not more than a month before, or perhaps six weeks; it may have been in November—I said, before the Magistrate, that Burke mentioned purchasing rifles and revolvers, in Birmingham, but that he did not mention any other kind of arms; that is my opinion still—he did not mention anything about caps, or powder, or bayonets, that I remember—I said, before the Magistrate, that I did not know what had become of the letter I received from Burke, from, macroom; but I think, I added that I had destroyed it—it is customary with me to destroy every document of a criminal nature—I believe I said I could not give the purport of that letter, that it, was in his writing, and that I did not know whether it was signed "Wallace," "Window," or how—I am not aware that I said, before the Magistrate, that I was certain he said he had got credit for 900l., exactly; I think I said, "If I remember right"—I was once in the Land Transport Corps, in the Crimea—I never passed myself off as "Redan Massey"—I have talked about the Redan, because I have trodden over it; but I never said I was in the attack on it—I was not ordered off to India after that—I returned to Portsmouth, in July or August, 1856, in H.M.S. Britannia, and was there discharged, and I went to Ireland—I did not enter into the service again at Cork, and go on board a ship to convey troops to India—I did not desert from the English army; never—I had no brother in the English service in Canada—since I have turned informer, I have been living upon the money that the authorities have supplied me with—I expect nothing as a reward—I would accept nothing as a reward—I did not turn informer for my own sake—I would not accept anything as a payment—I am entirely in the hands of the Government in that respect—I would entirely refuse anything offered as a reward or payment—I would take it as an aid, inasmuch as my position at the, present, time is almost helpless—I have received nothing from the authorities but as much as supports me—I have been known by the name of Philip Condon; that was my nurse's name—I suppose it is no secret why I did not take the name of Massey; my birth has been pretty well made public.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. With regard to the proposed plan of attack on Chester Castle, were you present at that meeting? A. The attack at Chester was in direct contradiction to my instructions—I was not present at the meeting; I had nothing at all to do with the chester affair—I did not express my feelings at the meeting—I spoke to Captain McCafferty

about it—I do not know of Corydon having strongly advocated that move meat; I did not hold much communication with him.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . Q. You have been asked about this reward—are you a married man? A. I am—I have no children—I was married before I came to this country, about a year ago—I first informed a considerable time after I was in prison in Dublin—I had been in no communication whatever with the goal before that, not until I was myself sold, betrayad—I arrived at New York in October, 1866, from New Orleans—I did not arrive with Stephens; my wife came with me—I sent her home to Ireland, and then went with Stephens to several of the large cities—it was generally thought at that time that he was in this country; we travelled incog.

MR. E. JONES. Q. You were betrayed by Corydon, were you not? A. Yes, I gave him money and instructions for American officers in Dublin, and he immediately went to the Castle and gave information.

wednesday, April 29th, 1868.

AMELIA TYE . I live at Birmingham, and am assistant to Mr. Kynoch, who sells ammunition and small arms—I have seen Burke at Birmingham—the first time was December, 1865; he culled at Mr. Kynoch's, and he first saw me—he wanted to buy some percussion caps—I showed him samples of military caps—he approved them, and I asked him to call next morning and see Mr. Kynoch—I told him what we had in stock—he called next morning and bought two millions of military caps—he went out in the afternoon with Mr. Kynoch to Mr. Hill, the pistol maker, I believe—he bought that evening 250, 000 pistol percussion caps, and I believe forty revolvers, that were in stock—I put them into cases myself—he told me to send them to 64, George Street, and tell the man to ask for Mullidy, I believe to deliver the goods to—the man took them out with delivery book, which was brought back signed—I think it was Shaw who brought a letter once for Mr. Kynoch—I don't think I saw him more than once—some tin-lined eases were brought to Mr. Kynoch's on a cart which had been lying at the station—they were returned empty cases which had been sent from our place—three men brought them back—I have seen Burke at Kynoch's several times; under the name of Winslow—the delivery book produced is the one the man took out (this was signed by Mullidy).

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. You never spoke to the man who called? A. No; it was some time in the forenoon, the busy part of the day, about 11, I should think—it was somewhere at the latter end of December, or beginning of January—I am not at all sure about the time—there was nothing to induce me to notice the circumstance—no one but Mr. Kynoch and myself assisted in the business at that time—I did not see Shaw again till after last Christmas, when he was brought from Dublin—he was then in the station yard at Bow Street—ho was in a row with others—I picked him out.

GEORGE KYNOCH . I am a cap and ammunition manufacturer in Birmingham—I sell fire arms—I carried on that business in 1865-6, at 45, Littlehampton Street—I have seen Mr. Winslow (Burke) and Mullidy there—I first sew Burke on the 23rd December, 1865—on that day I had received a communication from the last witness—I sold him that day two millions of military percussion caps, and 250, 000 revolver caps—he gave the name of E. C. Winslow, and must have given the address 64, George

Street—I sold the caps by sample—the bulk were lying at the station, Curzon Street, to my order—the amount was 385l—he paid cats—I made out the invoice and gave it to him—I gave him a delivery order on Crowley and Co., the London aid North Western agents, for the caps (order producea)—that is the delivery order I gave Winslow—he after that asked me whether I could supply him with revolvers—I then had fifty revolvers on my premises—I showed him them and he bought them—they were included in the bill for 385l.—I believe they were sent in a cab to 64, George Street—he went with me to Mr. Hill, a pistol maker, in St. Mary's Road—we there inspected some, and I made an arrangement to sell him a certain quantity up to a certain time—I have no doubt I introduced him to Mr. Hill as Winslow—I procured pistols from Hill and other makers, and sold them to Winslow—there are about seven invoices—I sold him 500 rifles and. bayonets, bullet moulds, and implements—the total amount was 1, 970l.—the purchase was between 23rd December, 1865, and the I3th January, 1866—the payments were for cash immediately on the invoices being made out, and before delivery, except on one occasion—I gave him credit for the rifles, 698l.—it was on a Thursday—he said he would not be able to pay for them till the Saturday—after some hesitation, I gave him credit, and he paid, not on the Saturday but on the Sunday—we became on very friendly terms—I saw him every day—I went to see him in Monumeut Lane and in George Street—at George Street there was a plate on the door, "E. C. Winslow, Merchant and Commission Agent"—I saw some of the revolvers there—all the goods were delivered there—believe I saw Casey there he appeared to be a workman—I daresay I saw Mullidy there, but I remember him more particularly being in my office waiting instructions from Winslow—he saw Winslow, and waited while he wrote a note—Mullidy then took that note away—I have several times received letters from Winslow—I have seen him write this letter (prodiced) I received from him (read) "January 29th 1866. Dear sir, I deeply regret that I cannot give you some order, My messenger has returned from London and brought me no definite satisfaction; in feat, I am compelled to go there and attend to matters personally. My health has improved, so that I think I can start soon. I am, however, quite positive on, the subject of continued trade with you. Please present to Mrs. Kymoch my sincere wishes for welfare of herself and little Ellen, and receive the assurance of continued biomass activity, the' postponed, and friendship from yours, very truly, Edward C. Winslow." I also received this letter on the 5th July (read)—"London, July 5th, 1866. Dear sir, I would have written to you ere this but my business here and in Glasgow kept me constantly occupied, added to which I may place an illness of six weeks, during, which I was very low. I hope yourself, lady, and little Ellen are quite well. Please present to Mrs. Kynoch my most sincere wishes for her welfare and happiness. I want from you a full quotation of prices, embracing Enfields, Whitworths, earlines postols, revolvers, kind and quality, and of all the accompanying materials, as I expect to do a fair business with you very soon, and want to be posted. How is Hill? Has he ever got over that interesting difference of opinion which once existed between you? I don' quite forget that pistol you promised by Jove! I must have that when I see you next. I am going down to woolwich, and will be back in three or four days' time. I want you to write by return of post. I will stop at the International Hotel, near the railway station, London bridge, and will expect to find a note from you when I

return. Pardon haste. Kind regards to Mr. Rubery. I am faithfully yours, (signed) E. C. Winslow, ('A man of many apologies.')"—I believe I answered that letter—I afterwards received the following letter—"Liverpool, July 15th, 1866. Sunday. Dear sir, Many thanks for your kind note of the 6th inst., which I received a day or two ago from London, having left there before it arrived at the International Hotel. I am happy to hear of your own personal welfare, and the good health, and happiness of Mrs. Kynoch and 'Kitty.' You must have made a mistake in sending me the enclosed third page of your letter. I hope it caused you no inconvenience, and yet I fear it has; but no fault of mine, I am quite sure. I have some transactions to complete in the northern counties, and a few in Scotland, and then I expect to be up at the 'gem of the midland counties' once more. How are you on for 'breech-loaders,' eh? You, if you want to satisfy the popular demand, must turn them out 'pretty considerably fast, I reckon,' as our friends north of Mason's and Dixon's line say. They and the needle gun are all the rage now; so much for the bitter experience of a seven days' war. Wait till they keep it up for four long blessed years; won't there be a fine field in Germany then for the sale of crape? I think so. Don't you? I have met with some slight losses since, but that is of little import now. I hope to be able to take a good stock off your hands, just if only to keep my promise, and not necessitate another of thy pet manufactures—apologies—you know. Kind regards to Mrs. Kynoch, Mr. Claddo, and Mr. Rubery. Thanks for your kind invitation; trust me, you will see me oftener at Spark Hill, when I again go your way. Good-bye. E. C. Winslow." "What are your lowest figures for Enfield cartridges and plain powder. Those 18s. affairs of Hill's have not sold well by a long shot. I take no more of them, even if he 'throws them in,' a proceeding, I may say, rather out of keeping with his past conduct towards us. I will stay here, probably, one week. If you address Washington, or King's Arms Hotel, it will find me. This is a dull, dirty, disgusting town, a modern Gomorrah, with the din of a thousand Babel's, E. C. W."—"Wash" Hotel, Liverpool, July 17th, 1866. Geo. Kynoch, Esq. My dear sir, Yours of the 16th I just received, and, as I leave in a few minutes for London, I have only time to say a word or two. I don't want any cartridges just now. I asked simply with a desire to be posted in your prices, as I hope soon to do a brisk business with you again. I hope the failure of the Birmingham Banking Company does not in any way inflict injury on you. I am sorry to learn Rubery is going to Yankee land. I think he would do as well here, but he knows the best course, I have no doubt. How does Claddo get along now? Pardon haste. I will be back here in three or four days. Kind regards to all. Believe me, faithfully yours, E. C. Winslow. P.S.—I am very sorry that I cannot do something in these cartridges now; depend upon it I would if could. E, C. W."—This letter alludes to a revolver that I had promised him for his personal use.

MR. SOLICITOR-GENERAL. Q. You say you saw him up to 13th January, did you see him in Birmingham after that? A. I saw him occasionally for some considerable time, possibly for two or there months after the end of three months I am not certain whether I saw him; I had no; more transactions with him in business.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. As you were on friendly terms with him, I suppose you had conversation with him about his antecedents at times. A. Yes, frequently—he did not tell me anything about his adventures in Chili—I

don't remember that he ever said he was in Chili—it was at the end of the Peruvian war, and we might have a conversation about Chili, but I cannot say that I particularly remember it—I should say that he did not tell me that he had been some, time in Chili—I have no recollection of his mentioning the South American Republics—after 13th January, 1856, I saw him occasionally every few months—I saw him some time in 1866, I cannot say when it was

Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Were you first examined on 3rd Number, last year? A. I don't know—Burke and Casey, were the only two persons under charge, at the time—I do not know whether Casey was in charge for obstructing the police—I saw him in the dock—I professed to, believe, on 3rd November that Casey was, the man who passed under the name of Mullidy—I had a very great doubt about it—I had then seen Mullidy several times—I was examined a second time, after I had seen the man who I call the real Mullidy—I do not remember being re-called on 7th, December—I cannot remember being at Bow Street the, second time, unless I have something (to call it to my, mind—I do not remember the exact dates, I was there, so many times in December—up to the time I saw Shaw, I was still under the impression that Casey was Mullidy; but I always had a doubt—if Shaw had not been taken, I should have been under that doubtful impression now—I have no doubt whatever now that Casey is not Mullidy—I saw him in the Lower Road, and two or three times in George Street—I do not swear positively that I saw Casey, there, but I believe I saw him on, ones occasion; I cannot remember every circumstance—the men were packers—the man was sealing up some boxes—I did, not See that man again that I know of, until Casey, was in custody—that was after an interval of nearly two years.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. May, I take it that it is the same with regard to the other who you believe is Mullidy? A. I believe not—the same length of time elapsed—I Saw the man who I believe to be Mullidy oftener than once—but I remember one circumstance more particularly; I remember saying, "I, can't remember positively having seen him more than once and that is, what I say now—I remember, on one particular occasion, seeing him and noticing him—the man I believe to be Mullidy was dressed in workman's clothes—this were both working for Winslow; and I noticed Mullidy, on one occaecasion, from the peculiar way in which he jumped up at his orders from Winslow that being so, I do not say that Casey is the man—I said at first he must be one of them—there were there or four pesons, and I said I thought it might be Mullidy; but still I cannot remember everything at once—your memory is freshened up—you Cannot identify persons all at once without thinking.

COURT Q. I wand to see whether I rightly appreciate Your evidence—I you, saw the man at your office who waited for, a letter? A. Yes—I saw the man at the place in Great George Street—I knew Mullidy name—When I first saw Casey, in Court I did not recognize him at all—I afterwards recognized him as, one of the men who had been there, and I said that he might be Mullidy—the circumstance of the letter was not in my mind—my recognition of him was very slight—I recognized him as having seen him with Burke—but after that time I remember the circumstance of wasting for the letter, and I said so before the Magistrate after the first examination—I cannot fix the date when I was under a doubt whether Casey was Mullidy—it was some time after my first examination—it was then I remembered

the waiting for the letter and the colour of the man's hair, and I said it was a red haired man who waited for the letter—I remembered seeing that man in George Street when I first went to Bow Streets—my opinion is still that Casey was one of them, but he was not the one who waited for the letter who I remembered as Mullidy—if I had not seen Shaw I should have continued in doubt—the sight of Shaw confirmed my opinion.

WILLIAM JAMES HILL . I am a patent pistol maker, of 9, St. Mary's Row, Birmingham—at the end of 1865 I remember Mr. Kynoch bringing Burke and introducing him as Winslow—I showed him pistols and told him the prices—he asked what the difference would be for a large order—I told him, and he purchased the pistols I had in stock—the pistols were to be paid for through Mr. Kynoch—I trusted Mr. Kynoch—I delivered pistols the next week to the amount of £1, 575—he said he had no doubt he could keep me on making for nine, months or a year—I saw Burke from time to time after that on the subject of pistols, which I delivered on different occasions up to the second week in January—I supplied brass bullet moulds to each revolver—on the 26th of January I sold a gilt engraved pistol to Mr. Kyaoch for 5l. 10s.—it was gilt all over—some misunderstanding then arose between me and Mr. Kynoch, and other pistols which I had were undelivered.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. I believe during these transactions you heard mention made of South America? A. Yes; but I was not told that the pistols were going there.

WILLIAM WHITEHILL . I Was engaged with Mr. Kynoch at Birmingham—I have seen Burke there under the name of Winslow two or three times or more—I have also seen Casey two or three times at George Street Parade, Birmingham—I do not remember the number—"Edwin C. Window, Commission Agent," was on the door.

Cross-examined by MR. K. JONES. Q. What time of year was it you saw him at Mr. Kynoch's? A. In January, February, or December, on several occasions—I believe I may have seen him in February, but am not certain—it was not later than that.

Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Between what time have you seen Casey? A. The name dates; December, January, and February—I believe it was January or February—I cannot give a date—I said before the Magistrate that I could not swear to Casey—I am positive now—I only saw him momentarily coming out of a cell—I had never been in a court of justice before—I do not think I was examined twice at Bow Street, but I was there when he was committed—we signed no depositions on the last occasion—I said in my depositions, "I think, but I cannot swear I saw Casey"—the party read the evidence I had given, and I signed it when I gave my evidence—I went to the Court again because I had a subpoena.

Q. Would you be surprised to hear that at those dates he was working at Pickford's? A. Well, I do not know—I know the prisoner to be the man—

WILLIAM DAY . I am a house-agent, at Birmingham—I had the letting of the house, 64, George Street Parade—I let that to Burke—I produce the agreement made on the 19th December, which he signed as E. C. Window agreement made on the 19th December, which he signed as E. C. Winslow—(The agreement was put in and read.)—he said the premises were wanted as a branch house for a mercamtilc firm in New York.—he did not state the busines, but that they had branch house at Manichester, Liverpool, Paris, London, and Glasgow, and the business was carried on between London and New York—the rent was to be paid in advance, as he had not given references—he paid the first quarter—he said he was a stranger in Birmingham,

but he offered to give references in Manchester, Livery of the freight note, sion was given on the 19th—he asked to have a new dooligher—it is usual to get his casks in—that door was made by enlarging an old a?" they say, second quarter's rent was paid, but the third-quarter was not, an saw him after the commencement of the third quarter—he gave nool of any intention to leave—we re-entered in-possession towards the end order year—I found a carboy upstairs, which smelt strongly of petroleum, or something of that kind—there was a door which had bullet, holes in it, and a chalk mark, as if it had been used as a target—before retaking possession I had received this letter—(produced)—I believe that to be in "Window's handwriting—it has no date; but I think I received it in November 1866.

(The later was dated Liverpool, it apologized for not calling to pay the rent and gave his address at the King's Arms Hotel, Liverpool.)

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. You can't tell whether the carboy may not have been used by the previous occupant? A. I don't think the carboy was on the promises when Winslow took possession, but I can't swear.

WILLIAM MANTON (Inspector of Birmingham Police). I produce the, zinc plate taken from the door of 64, Great George Street—I went over the premises, and in the cellar, on the 23rd November, I found jars containing some liquid.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Have you seen the same, kind of liquid used for polishing gun stocks? A. I can't say; I did not say so before the Magistrate.

THOMAS WAKEMAN . I am foreman of the order-shed, Cruzan Street, Birmingham, for goods received by the railway company, the London and North-Waster, to wait for ordered—on 17th December, 1865, I received ten cases of goods, and ten more on the 18th—they were received to Mr. Kynoch's order—on 26th December a gentleman came to me about them, and told me to send them to Liverpool, to Window and Co 's order—he produced an order which I initialed—those cases, were forwarded, accrrding to the order, to Park Lane Station, Liverpool.

MR. KYNOCH (re-examined). I believe this signature is Burke's—I could swear it without any hesitation—(The order was signed "E. C. Winslow," and directed the cases, which weighed 26¾ cwt to be sent to Liverpool).

WILLIAM MARRIOTT . I am a booker at Park Lane Station, Liverpool—I remember delivering the cases, on the 29th December, to a person who produced the usual freight note—he signed for the receipt of, them in the book which I now produce—a delivery order is sent to our office, and, the freight note is made out—the person coming for the goods brings the freight note—(The delivery order was put in, and identified as being in Burke's handwriting, by GEORGE KYNOCH)—the name signed in the book is "R. Lawrence, December 29"—he was a middle aged, stoutish many and he took away the goods in a cart.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Did you deliver the goods yourself. A. Yes, I am positive of that—I could not positively swear to the man who signed the crane book, I thought Burke was the man; I think so now; the signature is "R. Lawrence."

WILLIAM AMORY . I am a checker at the Curzon Street Station, Birningham—on 28th December I received nine cases, and the following day eight more cases these are the consignment notes for those goods—Casey, brought the first of these notes to me—it had not got the sender's address on it, so I asked for it from Casey, and wrote it down myself—"George Street

Parade"—GEORGE KNOCK. Both these are in Winslow's, or Burke's handwriting.—These aw both stamped "by sender," that is to distinguish the goods brought by the porters themselves from those brought in by the agents, Pick ford's or Crowley's—those goods were forwarded to Park Lane Station, Liverpool.

Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. You said nothing about Casey at first before the Magistrate.? A. I was not asked—I don't know whether Speckley was examined before me—I saw Casey for about twenty minutes or half an hour; it was between 12 and 1 in the day—I don't know that I had ever seen him before, and I did not see him again for two years—I do not knew that I should be surprised to hear that Casey was then working at Pick ford's; we hear very strange things sometimes—I would not believe them if six people swore that he was working at that time in another place.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . Q. Did the goods come in a cart, and, had they to be unloaded? A. Yes; and then weighed—I then lad to make out a paper, and sign it for him—he copied the weights himself at the machine, while they were being weighed—I was there, and saw him there—I had to make out a receipt on receiving the goods—I did that in the office on the ground—he went with me.

COURT. Q. Was Speckley examined before the Magistrate, before or after you? A.—I don't know—I was recalled, and at was then I spoke to Casey—I did not hear Speckley say anything about Casey—it was not in consequence of what I heard him or other people say that I recollected seeing Casey—when I first saw him at the bar I considered he was the man, but not being asked, I said nothing.

SAMUEL MARRIOTT (re-examined). On 30th December I received nine cases—this delivery order was lodged for them—[GEORGE KYNOCK. This order is Winslow's writing]. (Read.)—l delivered those nine cases, I think, to the man; that signed his name "R. Lawrence;" the same as the others; it was the same man.

GEORGE SPECKLEY . I am a clerk at Curzon Street Railway Station, Birmingham—in January, 1866, I received this consignment note, with twelve cases, marked us in the note—I placed them in the proper place for forwarding to Waterloo Station, Liverpool.

GEORGE KYNOCH . (re-examined). This is Wislow's writings (This requested that the twelve cases might be forwarded to waterloo station liverpool, and was signed "E.C. Winslow.")

JOSEPH BURROWS . I am a clerk at the Waterloo Railway Station, LiverPool—I produce my book, and a delivery order for twelve cases—[GEORGE KYNOCH. This order, is in Winslow's writing. (This was signed by Winslow and crossed "S, C. Hatchett." It requested the delivery of the twelve cases of goods.)—a person applied for a freight note on that delivery, order, and I made it out, and gave it to him—R. Lawrence has signed for it—I don't know him.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Did you not say, before the Magistrate, "Upon the presentation of a delivery note, such as that in my hand, I should ask the applicant upon whose account, and the name. "S. P. Hatchett" appearing would be the name given by applicant?" A. Yes; Lawrence would be the consignee for Hatchett—I mentioned the name of Lawrence before the Magistrate, and signed this book.

MR. SOLICITOR GENERAL . Q. Was a person examined named Gaghan? A. Yes: I had Gaghan with me—his book was produced when he was being

examined—this is not the same; this is for the delivery of the freight note, and this is for the goods—Hatchett is the supposed consigner—it is usual for me to say, "On whose account are you taking the goods?" they say, "S.P. Hatchett?" and I write that down.

MATTHEW GAGHAN . I am a booker at the waterloo station, Liverpool—this is my book—on 8th January, 1866, I delivered twelve cases, marked P. & G. H., 1 to 12, to R Lawrence, who signed for them.

JAMES NORCOTT . I was a checker at the curzon-Street Station Birmingham—on 6th January, 1866, I received this consignment note, and eleven cases, marked S. K. in a diamond 1 to 11, the same as is on the note-they were put for forwarding to the Waterloo Station, Liverpool.

GEORGE KYNOCH (re-examined). This is Winslow's writing.

HENRY LEATHER . I am a deliverer at the Waterloo Railway Station, Liverpool—this is my book, and this is a delivery order, signed by Winslow MR. KYNOCH. This is Winslow's writing. (This requested the delivery of eleven cases marked S. R. in a diamond W. 1 to 11to bearer.)-R. Lawrence has signed my book for them.

THOMAS BARKER . I was a checker at the Curzon Street Station. Birmingham—I received this consignment note on 8th January—[MR. KYNOCH. This is Winslow's writing.] (This was for twelve cases. W. R. B. in a triangle 1 to 12.)—On 11th January I received a consignment note and twelve cases, both of those lots were forwarded from Waterloo to Liverpool.

JOSEPH BURROWS (re-examined). On 10th January, I made out a fright note upon this delivery order, dated the 9th, for twelve cases, marked W. R. B. [MR. KYNOCH. This is Winslow's writing.] (This was dated 9th January, 1866, signed E.C. Winslow, requesting the delivery to bearer of twelve cases, marked W. R. B. 1 to 12, forwarded yesterday from Birmingham, and stating that the bearer will receipt and pay the freight.)—I gave the freight note to the applicant who has signed R. Lawrence—I ask him the consigner and he says. "S. P. Hatchett," which was the name given to me—I have the crane book, and find in it on 11th January, an entry of twelve cases, marked W. R. B. in a triangle, it is signed "R. Lawrence on account of S. P. Hatchett"—on 15th January, I gave a freight note on that delivery order. [MR. KYNOCH. I believe this is the same writing.] (This was dated Liverpool, January, 12th 1866, requesting the delivery of the twelve cases forwarded form Birmingham, marked O. S. W. 1 to 5, and signed Edwd. C. Winslow)-R. Lawrence has signed for that freight note, it is the same writing as the others-here is an entry on 9th January, of the actual delivery of the goods-they arrived on the 12th and the advice note was applied for on the 15th-advice note is the proper term—the goods were taken away on the 13th, it appears by the book-there were twelve cases with the same mark as I sent from Liverpool on 13th January—the goods could not be delivered without the production of the advice note which was delivered on the 12th to R. Lawrence for S. P. Hatchett-they were taken away on the 12th.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Were you examined on 21st December? A. I am not sure about the date—it was before Christmas-Gaghan, ad Leather, and Marriott were examined the same day, and I heard them give this evidence about Lawrence—I do not know whether Corydon was examined a week after me.

CHARLES PHILLIPS . I was a ledger clerk at Curzon Street Railway Station—the consignment note is addressed to me, but it was received by

the checking man—I did not see it till I was summoned as a witness.

MR. KYNOCH. This note is Winslow's writing.] (This was signed E.C. Winslow, without dates requesting cases two marked 1to 2, forwarded to park Lane Station, Liverpool.) This has been in the invoice office, Curzon street, but not in the office that I am in.

JAMES LOCKETT . I am booking-clerk lit the London arid North-Western Station, Park Lane Liverpool—I produce the crane book-cat 29th December; 1865, two cases, marked M. B. in a diamond, were delivered to R. lawrence—I produce the order.

GEORGE KYNOCH (re-examined). This is Winslow's writing (this was a delivery order, signed Edward C. Winslow, for the cases marked as above, for which the bearer would receipt).

WILLIAM GREENING . I was in the employ of crowley & Co., carriers—on 29th December, 1865, I delivered twenty-five cases, at 64, George Street Parade, to the person who signed this sheet (produced)—should call the name "Mullihag"—I don't know that I could identify the man.

GEORGE KYNOCH (re-examined). This is Winslow's writing; also this delivery order (This was an order for twelve cases marked 13to 24).

MATTHEW GAGHAN (re-examined). I produce the crane, book which cantains the signature for these goods, "R. lawrence."

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Were you examined on 21st December before the Magistrate? A. I don't know the date—I don't know where Corydon was examined.

HENRY FISHER . I was clerk at the curzon Street Railway Station in January, 1866-5th January I loaded the goods mentioned in this delivery order-a man named Shaw brought them to me-that is him—I also loaded these goods in the consignment note of 8th January-Shaw brought them, and I forwarded them—I also forwarded these in this note of the 11th-they were brought by the same party—he also brought this note of 12th January—the goods are weighed as they are brought—the person who brings them does not always see them weighed, but he may if he thinks proper—he did in this case—he stood by while they were being scaled-each lot took fire or ten minutes-Shaw is the man.

Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Are in any employment now? A. Yes, at fowler & Dees', weighing machine makers—I left the railway company in September or October, 1867—I gave notice; I had not received notice that I was no longer required—I had been complained of more than once by the railway company; they said that I was given to drink—I do not know that I have on more than one occasion allowed other men in the employment to weigh goods and afterwards signed my initials to the paper as if I myself had discharged the duty—I will not swear that I have not—I know Broughton: he was there during the time I was there-until this charge was brought against the prisoners I had not seen the man who stood by me on these occasions after 12th January till this year—I was in the company's service sixteen or seventeen years—I have been a widower three Yeats—I remembered telling my fellow workmen that I had a child lying dead, and did not know how to raise the money to bury it; and the men got up a subscription for me—I had a child which died, but not at that time: it was not unburied in my house—it is often the case, that a collection is made after burial; it was not made to enable me to bury the child—I had buried it—I represented to my fellow workmen that I required means to bury it: it had then been buried three weeks—I will not under

take to say that it had not been buried longer than that; I can’t say for certainty—I don't think it was three months, nothing near it—I do not think two months had elapsed—I cannot positively state that it had not—I cannot give you the precise date I left the company; it was either september or October, 1866—it had not been intimated to me that if I did not leave I should be discharged—Mr. Mason was regarded as my employer: he is at Birmingham—I have four children—there are two of them at nursing in sun street, Birmingham, and one of them is with my mother at smethwick—I have not paid anything for the support of the two children for the nursing my friends are doing so—I do not know the woman's name they are with—I entered into a contract to pay for their keep and maintenance—one is four years old, and the other between five and six—I was to pay her 5s. a week—at consequence of my failing to keep that engagement she took them to the workhouse—I do not know that the guardians asked her to keep them, they allowing her a few shillings a week—I have made inquiries about them, but I have not been to see them—I left them with the woman about ten months ago—I have been in my present situation four or five months—I go whenever there is work for me—I am not in permanent employment—when I am not employed there I work for anyone—I work at the station, and carry luggage up.

MR. ATTORNEY GENERAL. Q. Was it after you became a widower that the children were left with this woman? A. Yes—the dispute between me and the company was about staying away from my duty that was two days before I left—I did not weigh the particular package—Broughton weighed them; but I was present—he is a weigher, it was his duty to weigh them; and I take the weights—these weights are in my writing—there is one letter here which is not in my writng, in the weight, but the waggon number is mine—the weight is in another parties writing," 17 cwt. 1 qr."

COURT. Q. You said that your friends helped you with the children—carryon give me the names? A. Yes; Thomas Fisher, my brother, helped to pay the nurse—I am sure of that.

ANN ELIZABETH HIRONS . I am the wife of Henry Hirons, of 30, Moon Street, Liverpool—we let lodgings—on 20th of April, 1866, we lived at no. 48, and a gentleman came to take our lodgings—he gave the name of preston—after he had been at my house a week, a person who gave the name of Mr. Rice came—application was made for another lodging, and I mentioned the name of Mrs. Siddell, 32, Moon Street—the name of that gentleman was Winslow—Burke is the man—I saw him several times after that in my own house—he came to see Mr. Preston-other gentlemen came with him-one of the name of Beecher came-more visitors came to Mr. Preston on a Sunday than any other day—I have seen six or seven on a Sunday—Winslow and Beecher were with them—there was another of the name of Burke, another O'Brien, and one of the name of Farrell called—I do not remember any more names—I did not know Lawrence; I heard Mrs. Siddell speak of him, not in Winslow's presence—I do not know what these men came for, or what they did when they came—Preston had sittilng room and a bed room—I heard Beecher speak to Winslow once about Birmingham; he stopped as I entered the room—Preston and Rice stayed at my lodgings about sixteen weeks—they left on a Saturday afternoon; and I saw no more of them—one man called to see if there were any letters, but I do not know what his name was.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Do you know the witness, Corydon? A. I have seen him at my house while these people were there—I was not before the Magistrate—I remember seeing Corygdon more than once at my house; I think twice.

ELIZABETH SIDDELL . I am the wife of John Siddell, of 32, Moon Street, Liverpool—I remember Winslow coming to my house With Preston, about the latter end of April, 1866—he took a parlour and, bed room—the prisoner Burke is the man who took the lodgings—I told him we usually had a reference—he smiled, and said he could give references in Paris, or, New York, or in Birmingham, but he supposed if he paid me honorably, that was, all I required—I said it was—he afterwards asked if I could spare another bedroom for a friend—I said yes, and another gentleman of the name of Beecher came and stayed with him—they stayed about a month, and then left—Mr. Winslow called about a week after, to see there were any letters for him—some visitors used to call and see them occasionally—Preston and Rice used to call—a man, who looked unwell, called once; he gave the name of Lawrence—I heard afterwards that no had died in one of the hospitals—from whom I heard it I do not know.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. You have said before that Winslow's initials were E. C., how do you know? A. Because those were on his letters, and marked on his linen—it was not after seeing the newspapers that I knew the man's name was Lawrence—Lawrence himself gave the name—he looked very ill.

MICHAEL SCAIFE . I am a detective police-constable, at Liverpool—I remember going to Mrs. Blackmore's house, 84 Salisbury Street, to the top floor—it was locked by a padlock—I drew the staple and went in—I found three tubs, with bottles, In water nearly covering the bottles—the bottles contained a liquid—I took one to the Apothecaries' Hall to be examined—a portion of the liqiud fell on my hands and clothes and burnt them.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES Q. When did you receive the information that caused you to go there? A. About 12 o'clock on the 6th September, 1866—I never gave this evidence in a court of justice before—I was subpoened here.

WILLIAM HOURNE . I am an inspector of detective police, in Liverpool on the 6th September, 1866, I went to Mrs. Blackmore's—she has left Liverpool—I believe she has gone to America—I went to an upstairs room, and there found three tubs, containing water and a number of bottles, which were taken to the police-office, and one to Dr. Davies—I saw one opened—Major Gregg poured a portion on some cotton—in a minute or two minutes it was in flame—we tried with hay and straw with the same effect, and also on a brick wall—it burst into flame—we put it out with the hose, but it blazed again after the water was taken off—we tried it on wood in the same way—I knew Austin Gibbon's house, in Richmond Street—he has gone to America—I watched the house in 1866; Gorydon lodged there in September of that year—I knew O'Brien, who came, there—he was afterwards executed at Manchester.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. When did Corydon first give information about the Liverpool matters? A. About October, 1866—he did not give it until after the seizure of the Greek fire.

DR. EDWARD DAVIES . I am an analytical chemist—I analysed the contents of the bottles given by last witness—I found in them a solution of phosphorus and bi-sulphate of carbon, which makes what is popularly called

Greek fire—it is easily made—the ingredients only require to be put in a bottle and shaken up—as soon as it is thrown out if Volatillises, the bi-Bulphate escapes, and the phosphorus ignites by the action of the air—I know no legitimate use to which it can be applied—I have found none in the works I have consulted on the subject.

JOHN MORRISSEY I am a constable in the Irish constabulary at Cork—on 22nd November, 1866, early in the morning, I boarded the ship Halcyon, on the Quay—I saw a large deal case brought from the hold, addressed to John Daley and Co., 84, Grand Parade, Cork, and on the side of the lid, as if done with a paint brush was "This side up, with care"—it was taken by the men into the store—I ordered them to leave it—I afterwards saw it open—contained rifles, the stocks and the barrels—I saw a second case taken from the Halcyon, and taken charge of by Mr. Hamilton, the Magistrate.

THOMAS HAMILTON, ESQ . I am, resident Magistrate at Cork—on 22nd November I went down to the Halcyon steamer and had two large boxes forced open—one was much larger than the other—there was a label on one, describing the contents as American cloth—on the other was "oiled baize"—there were fifty Enfield rifles in the larger case and thirty in the smaller, bayonets, caps, and spare nipples—I produce the ship's manifesto, which I got from the secretary to the company at Cork—that (produced) is one of the rifles and one of the bayonets.

KYNOCH (re-examined). I sold Winslow rifles of precisely the same description—I sold 500, with bayonets and bullet moulds—these rifles are of the regulation pattern—I have sold a great many of them.

JOHN DALEY . I carry on business in the drapery and furnishing trade, on the Grand Parade, Cork—I sometimes receive packages of American cloth and oiled baize from Liverpool and other ports—I heard of the arrival of two packages of rifles to my address—I had not ordered them.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES Q. may things be consigned to you by your English correspondents without your knowledge? A. in the ordinary way they would be preceded by invoices—I have sometimes received goods without having first received the invoice.

MR. ATTORNEY-GENERAL Q. Did you ever have any correspondent of yours send rifles? A. not to my knowledge—I do not act as agent for anybody—I never ordered these goods, or, authorized anyone to order them.

THOMAS KAVANAGH . I am supercargo at the Nelson Dock, Liverpool, for the owners of the Halcyon, Wilson, Son and Walton—on the 17th November, 1866, two people with a cart brought two deal cases—the shipping note was lost—I looked in every place where we were likely to find it—the shipers were Messrs. Cooke and Townsend Liverpool, to a respectabel firm in Cork, the Messrs. Daley—Messrs. Cooke and town send are not in the habit of shipping to Messrs. Daley—they do not ship by us—the cases were brought in a private cart.

JOHN TOWNSEND . I am a member of the firm of Cooke & Townsend, of Liverpool—we, did not, in November, 1866, send to Messrs, Daley, of Cork, two packages by the Halcyon, or know of their being sent—we do not deal in rites or bayonets—we deal in oil-silk, baize, and leather-cloths.

ELILZA LAMBERT . I lived in service, at no. 7 Tavistock Street, Bedford Square, in January, 1867—at the latter end of that month, or the beginning of February, the prisoner Burke, giving the name, of Mr., Wallace, came to lodge there with Mr. Massey—Massey went by the name of Mr. Cleburn—Mr.

Wallace stayed one week and Mr. Cleburn four or five weeks—I am not certain.

FERDINAND FREDERICI . In January, 1867, I live at 5, North Crescent, Bedford Square—two gentleman, who gave the names of Coleman and Fletcher, came to lodge at my house about the 28th—Fletcher stayed a fortnight: Coleman six weeks—I have been over to Dublin, and I was in court, and saw on his trial the person called Fletcher—he was being tried under the name of General Halpin—Emma Layton was my servant—she attended to the door, I sometimes opened it.

EMMA LAYTON . I remember two persons coming to live at Mr. Frederici's, by the names of Coleman and Fletcher—I recollect Mr. Massey coming to call on them—there was also the man Fariola, who pleaded guilty in Dublin—I was present at the trial of General Halpin—he was Fletcher.

Cross-examined by MR. E. JONES. Q. Did you ever see the prisoner burke call at the house? A. No.

ELIZA COPPINS . I was living in January, 1867, at 137, Great Portland Street, with my father, brother, and sister—I remember in January a gentleman who gave the name of Fariola, took the parlours—two gentleman came to see him—Massey was one of those—another called Farrell also called—I saw Fariola on his trial at Dublin as General Fariola—I was in the habit of letting them in out of the house—they locked their door.

MILES LAMBERT . I kept the Commercial Hotel, Lord Nelson Street, Liverpool, in 1866—I recollect Inspector Honey and Major Gregg coming to search there—before that the prisoner Burke used to call upon parties; but I cannot say who they were—when Mr. Horne came to my house he found some haversacks, that was a day on so after Winslow had been to the house—I think the parties who had lodged at my house were Deasy, O'Conntor, and Captain O'Brien.

WILLIAM HORNE . (re-examined). I found the haversacks (produced) spoken of by last witness, on the 12th of September, 1866.

JAMES HOLLEMAN . I am sergeant instructor in musketry of the South Cork Militia—I was colour-serjeant in March 1856—I knew Burke—he was in the regiment from 1853 till May 1856—I knew him as Rickard Burke—I never saw him after 1856 until I saw him in goal—it was militia regiment.

JOHN DALY . I am colour-sergeant of the South Cork Militia regiment at Bindon—the prisoner Rickard Burke was in our regiment—I saw him the night before he left—I knew his mother and sister—they live in Bandon—I know a place called Macroom, about twelve miles from Bandon—they are not there now.

ELIZABETH ITHELL . In 1867 I lived with my husband at the King's Head, Grosvenor Street, Chester—I remember a man coming there on February 9th, as Frederick Johnston—I have been to Dublin, and I saw that man on his trial in Dublin in the name of McCafferty—on Sunday a man came and lodged with him all night—our house is a short distance from Chester Castle—the castle gates come to Grosvenor Street, where the Militia house is.

WILLIAM BRAY . I am a detective officer of the Chester police—on 11th February, 1867, I saw the men in Chester who were afterwards tried in Dublin as Flood and McCafferty—on that day I saw several trains arrive from Liverpool, Birkenhead, and Manchester—great numbers of strangers arrived—some went up towards the castle, some towards the city—there

were about 2000—Flood spoke to some of them—next day I found in the canal, near the railway, some pistols, powder and ball, and caps: some were in the field—I never found any owners for them—I saw some of the men going away next day—there were arms stored in the castle at Chester (30, 000 stand)—prior to that time there were very few soldiers in Chester—the castle is not a very formidable fortress; the courts of justice form part of it: it is now a barracks, and the county prison is behind.

JOHN CLARK . I am sergeant of the Chester constabulary—I was on duty on 11th February at Chester—the first I saw come was about 9 a.m—I saw John Flood on his trial at Dublin—I had seen him in a Hansom cab at Chester—some troops and the volunteers came into Chester on the same day—I examined a pool next day, and found 160 ball cartridges—rifle cartridges—on the road leading from Liverpool to Chester, I found about 100 ball cartridges—I think that was about the 18th.

FRANCIS SHERIDAN . I was a sergeant in the Dublin police force—on the night of the 5th March, 1867, I was on duty at Milltown village, about two and a half miles from Dublin patrolling with three more constables—we went a short distance out and met a body of 700 or 800 men—all were armed with the Enfield rifle and bayonets, or with pikes—those who had pikes had also revolvers—they disarmed us—we had revolvers and swords and were on duty in uniform—they were marching in m