Old Bailey Proceedings, 30th June 1879.
Reference Number: t18790630
Reference Number: f18790630


Sessions Paper.








Short-hand Writers to the Court,










On the Queen's Commission of



The City of London,





Held on Monday, June 30th, 1879, and following days,

BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. SIR CHARLES WHETHAM, Knt., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. GEORGE DENMAN , one of the Justices of the Common Pleas Division of the High Court of Justice; The Hon. Sir HENRY HAWKINS , Knt., one of the Justices of the Exchequer Division of the High Court of Justice; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., Sir JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Bart., M.P., and DAVID HENRY STONE , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS , Knt., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; WILLIAM McARTHUR , Esq., M.P., JOHN WHITTAKER ELLIS, Esq., JAMES FIGGINS , Esq., JOHN STAPLES , Esq., and ROBERT NICHOLAS FOWLER , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; WILLIAM THOMAS CHARLEY , Esq., D.C.L., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.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.









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.


NEW COURT.—Monday, June 30th, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-592

592. GEORGE FLATCHIT (18) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-593

593. JAMES WHITE** (58) to feloniously uttering counterfeit coin.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-594

594. FRANK OWENBACH (18) to feloniously forging and uttering a warrant for 44l. 16s., with intent to defraud.— To enter into recognisances. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-595

595. JOSEPH JOHNSON (22) and MARGARET JOHNSON (20) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession, with intent to utter it, to which

JOSEPH JOHNSON PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

The marriage certificate of MARGARET JOHNSON being produced by MR. FRITH, her Counsel, MR. CRAUFURD, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against her.


Reference Number: t18790630-596

596. HENRY LOOKS (59) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter it.

MR. CRAUFURD Prosecuted.

WILLIAM BOYELL (Police Sergeant E). On 14th January, about 1 p.m., 1 saw the prisoner in Endell Street, and followed him; he joined another man and they went into the Cross Keys together—I went in after them, and saw the prisoner sitting on a seat by himself and the other man 3 or 4 yards from him, smoking—when I went in the prisoner put his hand in his left trousers-pocket, drew it out, raised himself up 2 or 3 inches, and placed both his hands under him—I seized his arms and said "I suspect you have some counterfeit coin on you"—he said "No, I have nothing of the sort"—he attempted to struggle with me; I pulled him up from the seat, and Allison, who was with me, said "Look at those two parcels;" and then said to the landlord in the prisoner's hearing, "I wish to call your attention to those parcels on the seat"—the prisoner must have been sitting on them—there were these two packets, one containing 5 florins, and one 10, all counterfeit, and each wrapped up separately as they are now—no bad coin was found on the other man, and he was liberated at once—on

6th June I saw the prisoner and Gray (See page) talking together in the Grapes, and I took Gray—the prisoner was also searched, but nothing being found on him, he was allowed to go—I had seen him and Gray in company every day for a fortnight before 16th June.

JOHN ALLISON (Police Sergeant E). I have heard Boyell's evidence and corroborate it—I saw the two packets on the form—I endeavoured to search the prisoner before Boyell pulled him off the seat, he resisted me—I put my hand in his pocket—I opened one of the packets, tried the coins with my teeth, and said "Look at these"—he said "I know nothing about them"—nothing was found on him.

FRANK CRIBB . I keep the Cross Keys, Endell Street—I heard a struggle, Allison called my attention, and I saw the prisoner in the hands of two detectives—they pulled him off his seat and there were two packets under him—no one else was on the seat.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to her Majesty's Mint—these coins are bad—I have taken one away to compare it with one in Gray's case; they are from the same mould, and the general appearance of the others convinces me that they were all made from it, but I can only find one of Gray's from the same mould as one of these 15—13 out of the 15 are from one mould.

Prisoner's Defence. It is a got-up case by the police because they know I have been in trouble before.

GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted of uttering counterfeit coin in September, 1877, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18790630-597

597. HENRY LOOKS was again indicted, with GEORGE GRAY , for a like offence, to which

GRAY PLEADED GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

MR. CRAWFURD offered no evidence against


Reference Number: t18790630-598

598. WILLIAM THOMPSON (35) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.


ALLCE EVERARD . I serve in the bar of the Spread Eagle, Broad Street, Bloomsbury—on 21st May, about 10 p.m., the prisoner and two young men came in, and the prisoner paid for some drink with a shilling—I put it into the till, where there were only sixpences, and gave him 10d. change—my sister called my attention to the shilling, and I found it was bad—my sister said "Who gave you this shilling?"—I said "That gentleman standing there," pointing to the prisoner—she said "It is a bad shilling"—they could hear that, and they drank their ale and left directly.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. There were no other shillings in the till—it was not there a minute—I served no customers after you—we never keep shillings in the till; they are taken out directly—I had not seen you on the 22nd when my sister asked me.

Re-examined. When I did see him next day I recognised him, he is the man.

ELIZA EVERARD . I assist my father at the Spread Eagle—on 21st May I was in the parlour and saw the prisoner and his two friends come in—my youngest sister Alice served him—my father had only just cleared the till—I saw the prisoner pay the shilling, and looked at it in the till and asked

my sister who she had taken it of; she pointed to the prisoner, saying "From that man"—I called my father, and the prisoner and the others went out of the house as quick as they could—my father went to the door—I clear the till sometimes; my orders are not to keep any shilling there—on the 22nd I was in the bar by myself at 11.30 p.m., my sister had gone to bed—the prisoner came in—I recognised him directly—he asked for half a pint of four half, and put down a shilling—I saw it was bad, and called out "Mother, give me some small change;" she knew what I meant by that—my father came and got over the counter to prevent him going out, a policeman was sent for, and my father gave him the bad money—I said to my father "That is the man who passed the bad shilling last night," in the prisoner's hearing—he made no observation. (The prisoner asked the witness a number of questions of which the Jury complained as totally immaterial and a waste of time.)

JOHN ALEXANDER EVERARD . I keep the Spread Eagle—on 22nd May my daughter Eliza gave me two bad shillings—I was called out of the bar-parlour and saw the prisoner; my daughter Eliza said in his presence "That is the man that gave Alice the bad shilling last night," and with reference to the other bad shilling she said "I should know the man if I saw him again"—she pointed to the prisoner when he came in the second time, and laid "That is the man who gave me the first bad shilling"—I got over the bar, detained him, and sent for a constable—my daughter gave me two bad shillings—I gave them to the policeman—I did not see him on the 21st; I ran after him but could not find him.

Cross-examined. I did not come into the bar on the 21st; I had not time, you were gone—I produced a great many coins at the station, and said that I believed you were the person who passed them—there is no mistaking you; there is a scar on your left cheek—that is the description I took you by.

By the JURY. The practice of clearing the till is independent of the passing of bad money, but we had taken 23 or 24 bad coins; it was partially on that account that I adopted that rule.

ALICE EVERARD (Re-examined). I went to the door on the 21st when the men ran out, and saw them running down the street four or five doors off, and my father ran a little way down to see if he could see them—I was outside—they were out of sight when he got to the door.

Cross-examined. I did not state before the Magistrate that the shilling was in the till three minutes.

JOHN TOWELL (Policeman E 493). I was called on 22nd May, and saw the prisoner in charge and these two shillings—he was charged with uttering one of them—he made no reply—I searched him in the bar and found 3d.—Eliza Everard said in the prisoner's presence, "I believe it is the same man who passed the bad shilling last evening to my sister Alice"—he said, "It is a mistake; I can prove I was not in the house last evening"—Alice was not there then.

Cross-examined. You said that you should be able to prove that you were not there, but you never produced any witnesses—Miss Everard said, "I can swear to the shilling by the date."

WILLIAM WEBSTER . These shillings are bad.

Prisoner's Defene. I plead guilty to the one on the 22nd, but I did

not know it was bad. The one on the 21st I know nothing about. It is my opinion that she has taken that shilling from other coins which she procured at the station on purpose to make a victim.

GUILTY . He was further charged with a conviction of felony in February, 1878, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.— Two Years' Imprisonment.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 1st, 1879.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

Reference Number: t18790630-599

599. FREDERICK BRETT (47) , Unlawfully attempting to carnally know and abuse Minnie Deller, a girl under the age of 12. Other Counts for like offences on other children.

MR. J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted.

GUILTY of the assault and occasioning actual bodily harm. Two Years' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-600

600. EMMA EVANS (22) , Feloniously setting fire to a mattress and bedding in the dwelling-house of Sarah Evans, persons being therein.

MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted.

SARAH EVANS . I am the prisoner's mother, and live at 14, Pell Street, St. George's-in-the-East—the prisoner lived with me in, the kitchen—two men named Talby and Rowley lodged in the house—on the night of 24th June between 9 and 10 my daughter was brought home very drunk—she began to quarrel and break the things, and for fear she should strike me I ran out—some time afterwards she was quiet—I looked through the window and saw that the bed was on fire, and I sent for a constable.

HENRY PAYNE (Policeman H 184). I was called to the house, and saw the mattress and part of the bed on fire—the prisoner was in the room—the things were all knocked about and broken—the mother came in and said to the prisoner, "Oh, you wicked girl, for setting fire to the bed"—the prisoner said, "Yes, I done it, and I will b——well do it again when I come out"—this was about 11.30—she was recovering from the effects of drink.

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS considered that the evidence was scarcely sufficient to show that there was a deliberate intent to set the place on fire.


Reference Number: t18790630-601

601. FRANK HIGGS (14), ROBERT BOSWELL (14), JAMES SITTON (14), and CHARLES CHILDS (13) , Unlawfully casting stones on the London and North-Western Railway, thereby endangering the safety of persons travelling on the same.


AARON COHEN . I am a detective in the service of the London and North-Western Railway, stationed at Euston—on 7th June I was between Kilburn and Willesden—I had occasion to watch the four prisoners—I was alone—I saw them each pick up some large stones from the road—they got on the parapet of an iron bridge that crosses the railway at a height of about 100 yards—they sat there for a little time—a passenger train was coming towards Willesden, and I saw them throw the stones at the train, and they bounced off the top—I went towards them—Higgs turned round and said, "Look out, there is a b——tec from Chalk Farm watching the b——rail"—Bos well and Childs got over a fencing into a field and got away—Sitton pulled off a

belt with a brass buckle and said, "Now, chaps, don't run away, stand your ground, don't let the b——tec take any of us"—I saw three stones drop from his hand—the two ran down the road, and Higgs ran into the arms of a constable—I called out, "Stop them"—Boswell was taken afterwards—he said, "I was there, but I did not throw any stones, but if you are going to lock me up I will tell you where to find the others; I don't see why I should have it all myself"—from what he told me I took the other two.

THOMAS MOORCRAFT (Policeman X 197). Higgs ran into my arms—Cohen came up and told him the charge—he wept bitterly and denied it—I was with Cohen when Sitton was taken—he denied having thrown any stones, but afterwards admitted having thrown two at the detective—on Boswell I found a few pebbles and a piece of elastic.

The prisoners in their defence dented throwing any stones.


There was another indictment against the prisoners, upon which no evidence was offered.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 1st, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18790630-602

602. JOHN VOOSE (41) and ELLEN VOOSE (42) , Stealing a 100l. note and a 50l. note out of a post-letter, to which

JOHN VOOSE PLEADED GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

MR. METCALFE, Q.C., for the Prosecution, stated that there was no doubt that the prisoners were man and wife, and therefore offered no evidence againet ELLEN VOOSE.


THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, July 1st, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-603

603. JOHN SEXTON (19) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. LLOYD and A. B. KELLY Prosecuted.

MARY BUSH . I live at 47, Greek Street, Soho, where I assist in a baker's shop—on the 29th May I served the prisoner with a penny loaf—he threw down this shilling (produced)—I put it in my mouth and it bent—I gave it to my mistress, who said it was bad, and sent me to the bakehouse to fetch a man—I saw a constable brought into the shop, and my mistress gave the prisoner in charge with the shilling.

JAMES SHERRARD (Policeman C 298). The prisoner was given into my custody with this bad shilling—it is marked—I said "Have you any more of that kind of coin about you?"—he said "I have no more of that kind n—he said he got it for doing some work in Park Lane—I asked him for whom, but he could not name any one—I found on him 6d. in silver, and 3 1/2 d. in bronze—he was taken before the Magistrate and discharged.

MARY FITZGERALD . My husband keeps a public-house at 72, High Street, Poplar—about 6 p.m. on 13th June the prisoner came in, and called for half a pint of fourpenny ale and a pennyworth of tobacco—he gave me a florin—I was doubtful of it, and showed it to Edward Fitzgerald—he is no relation of mine—he tested it, and found it was bad; it bent—I said to the prisoner "This is a bad two-shilling piece"—he said he got it from a pork shop—I asked him if he had any more—he never answered me, but drank up the beer and ran out—he was brought back—a man named Bradley was

in the bar—he had called for some beer, and paid for it with a good shilling—the prisoner said that young man (Bradley) would give him a character—I asked Bradley if he knew him, and he said "No, I know nothing about him," and I told the prisoner what he said, and he said that he did know him.

Cross-examined. You did not tender me a penny for the beer.

EDWARD FITZGERALD . I am a dock constable, of 40, West India Cottages, Poplar—I am no relation the last witness—I was in the public-house, and the last witness showed me a florin, which I at once saw was bad—the prisoner ran out, followed by me, down High Street, Poplar, and turned into Sophia Street—I captured him about half way up the street, and brought him back—Bradley was in the bar opposite to where I brought him in—the prisoner said, pointing to Bradley, "That man with the coloured tie on the other side of the bar gave me the two-shilling piece, and sent me in with it"—I had Bradley detained in a private room separated from the bar, and left the two in safe custody there while I called another constable—when I brought the two together afterwards the prisoner again said "That is the man who gave me the two-shilling piece; he can give me a character"—Bradley said "I have never seen you before; I know nothing whatever about you"—I took Bradley to the Poplar Police-station, and he was charged with being concerned with the prisoner in uttering counterfeit coin—he was remanded twice at the Thames Police-court, and discharged this day week for want of sufficient evidence.

J. EWING (Policeman K 446). I took the prisoner at the public-house—he said "I didn't do it, a young man gave it me to bring in"—I saw Bradley in another compartment, and found he answered the description he had given me—I brought him out, and the prisoner said, in Bradley's hearing, "That is the young man that gave me the two-shilling piece to pass"—Bradley said "I don't know him"—I searched them both, and found 1d. on the prisoner, and 9d. on Bradley—Mis. Fox gave me the florin—Bradley was brought before a Magistrate, and discharged—the prisoner there denied that Bradley was the man who gave it to him, and that he had made a mistake.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to the Mint—this shilling and florin are bad.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was sent in with the coin, that is all I will say now."

Prisoner's Defence. I was sent in by Bradley; he told me not to say anything about it I don't see why he. should be discharged more than I should.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-604

604. MARGARET MARY DRISCOLL (40) , Unlawfully uttering a medal resembling a sovereign.


ELIZA CASSIN . I live at a coffee shop kept by Mr. Lucas at 33, Castle Street, Westminster—on 14th June, about 5.45 a.m., I served the prisoner with a cup of tea, two slices, and two rashers of bacon, which came to 4 1/2 d.—she offered me a coin, and said it was a sovereign—I said it was not a sovereign—I cannot swear that this is the one (produced); it was brighter than this—I told her she must wait till my mistress came down with the change—I took it into the kitchen—shortly after the prisoner said "Be quick and fetch me my change, or I will suffer to be hung for you, and that

will be blood for blood"—I had not drawn her blood—in about a quarter of an hour after my mistress came down, and a quarter of an hour after that the prisoner said she would throw the cup and saucer at my head if I did not bring the change—she appeared to be quite sober—I showed the coin to my mistress; she said it was not good, and the prisoner said "You don't know a good one from a bad one"—she went out without paying, and I saw no more of her.

EMILY KING . I assist at the bar of the Prince of Wales public-house, York Street, Westminster—I am 14—on 14th June last, about 6.45 a. m., I served the prisoner with a pint of 6d. ale, and she handed me the coin produced—I saw a mark put on it; I said "Is this a good one?"—she said "Yes"—I took it to my aunt, and went back to the prisoner—I believed it to be a good coin afterwards—I told her I had not got change—she drank the ale, and called for another pint—I had handed the coin back to her, and she tendered me the same coin again—I then gave her 4s. in coppers and four sixpences—that was not all that was in the till—she said she would call for the rest by-and-by—I showed the coin to Mr. Hammond, and I then caught her walking in the street not far off—I said "It is a bad piece of money you have given me"—she told me to go away—I saw Mr. Jenkins in the street, and gave him the coin, and he followed her.

CHARLES JENKINS . I am a grocer, of Little Queen Street—I followed the prisoner into Buckingham Palace Road and into the Goat public-house—I got a constable and gave her in charge.

HENRY SANDERS (Policeman B 477). I went into the public-house with Jenkins—I showed the prisoner the coin, and told' her she would have to come with me to the Prince of Wales public-house—she said nothing, but walked with me—she was slightly intoxicated—I saw the manager, and he went to the station with me and charged her—she had on her 4s. 6 1/2 d. in bronze and 6d. in silver—when she was charged she said, "A good job too."

MARY ANN DEADMAN . I am searcher at Rochester Row Police-station—on my searching the prisoner she was very rough—she hit me twice in the face with her fist—I found on her 4s. 6 1/2 d. in bronze and 6d. in silver—she threw the money about the place—I called in a constable.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had spectacles on, and you knocked them off, making my nose bleed.

WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to the Mint—this is a brass medal—I never saw one so dull before—they are used as whist markers—from the date, 1837, no doubt this was struck on the Queen's accession—most of them were struck then—they have the figure on them of the Duke of Brunswick on a horse, "To Hanover"—it is the same size as a sovereign, but not so thick.

GUILTY .**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-605

605. ALFRED GRIMSHAW (21), THOMAS FINCH (26), HENRY COOMBES (20), and JOHN CAMPBELL (26) , Robbery with violence on Harry Green, and stealing 4s. 10d. from his person.

MR. MILLWOOD Prosecuted; MR. RIBTON Defended.

HARRY GREEN . I am a painter, of 12, Holland Street, Westminster—on the evening of 3rd June I went with a friend named Day into the George and Bull public-house, Orchard Street, Westminster, where I saw the four prisoners—soon after we got in our pot of beer was taken off the barrel on which it stood in the bar and I saw it in one of the prisoners' hands—I said,

"That is my beer," and the answer was made, "It was quite a mistake"—the one who took the beer said that; I cannot say which—soon after that the prisoners got close round the entrance to the door, and we got up to leave—the soldier was first, and I was second, and Campbell pushed him back on my toes—I said, "That is my toe," in a joking sort of way—Campbell said, "You can get by as well as anybody else," and said something about throwing me out—Day turned round and said, "If you were outside you might not be so fast talking about throwing people out"—instantly there was a rush made by the four prisoners, and I received a blow from Campbell—I defended myself as well as I could—I found myself seized round the legs by a man who was on his knees, and I was thrown to the ground over the man's back and shoulders who was on the ground—I instantly felt hands feeling my pockets, and I said, "You won't find much there"—I scrambled to my feet in the best manner I could—when I got about 20 yards off I received a blow in the back of the neck, which felled me to the ground—I received a kick or two on the head and face, and became insensible; I also received kicks on the ribs, especially the right side—when I came to my senses I found myself at the hospital, where I remained from the Tuesday night till Saturday at dinner-time—I suffered much pain for the first three or four days—I had 3s. 10d. taken from me—I can only swear to Campbell, but I swear they were all in the public-house and rushed out.

Cross-examined. I did not say before the Magistrate that I wished to withdraw the change of robbery, as I was not sure that I had lost anything—I said, "I wish to withdraw the charge of robbery; the money might have dropped out, considering the open state of my pockets"—it was about 8.30 p.m. that I went to the public-house, and this happened three-quarters of an hour after—we only had two pots of beer—there were three or four soldiers there, not eight or ten—there was only one soldier with me—I did not see him take his belt off; I have not heard that he did—I said at the police-court, "The soldier did not ask me to fight; I do not know whether he took off his belt; the soldier ran off; I do not know who ran after him"—Day was the only soldier with me—he ran away, no doubt—I could not say whether he struck any one—I do not know that Finch was lying in the gutter insensible for some time—I believe he asked me that at the police-station, and I said, "I cannot say whether you were knocked down by the soldier"—I don't know who kicked me—I was too busily engaged to count the men about me—I kicked nobody—Day went on recruiting service the next day—he was before the Magistrate—I was seized by the legs—what they call a cross-buttock, I believe.

Re-examined. The prisoners are the men who rushed out on me at first John Smith. I am a mason, of West Court Cottages, Hammersmith—I was in Orchard Street at about 9.30 on the night in question, when I saw the prisoner Grimshaw knock the prosecutor down, 20 or 30 yards from the public-house—he took his feet away from him, and hit him at the same time, and he fell very heavily on his head—Grimshaw and Coombs kicked him on the right side; Campbell came up and said "What the b——are you looking at"—I said "Not very much," and he said "If you don't be off you will get the same"—I made no reply, but went round the corner—the prosecutor was lying on the ground—I was obliged to run for myself.

Cross-examined. I don't know what may have occurred in the public-house

—I see no soldiers at all—the prisoners and the prosecutor were all strangers to me—I was examined twice before the Magistrate—I don't know how many were present—my attention was drawn to the man who was getting very near killed.

FREDERICK BARKY . I live at 6, Cottage Court, Orchard Street, and about 9.30 on the evening in question I saw Campbell kick the prosecutor two or three times when in the George and Bull—he was on the ground, and I saw Coombs kick him in the back.

Cross-examined. I saw one soldier; I did not see Grimshaw and Finch do anything—I swore "I did not see Campbell do anything;" he was there—I did not know one from the other—when they put their hats on I knew them—I can swear that Campbell kicked him; I saw the soldier take off his belt, and knock Finch down in the gutter insensible—the soldier ran away, and three men ran after him—Finch did not remain in the gutter long—I did not see any one help him up—there was a general row amongst them all—I did not see the prosecutor strike anybody—he was lying on the ground—he got up, and Campbell knocked him down again—I was not in the public-house—we were playing over by the stonemason's—I saw the rush of people out of the public-house—it was after they came out that Finch was knocked down.

JOHN GREEN ACRE (Policeman B R, 11). My attention was called to the prosecutor at the time in question—he was lying on the pavement insensible—I took him to the hospital—there was a crowd of people—I did not see the prisoners there—I subsequently went the same day with Smith to 21, St. Ann's Street, where I found the four prisoners—Campbell was sitting on the bed, and the others were standing about the room—I said "You must all consider yourselves prisoners; I shall take you to the station for assaulting a man now in the hospital"—they said "Very well"—Campbell was one of them who said "We have done nothing, and we will go with you"—they went quietly to the station.

Cross-examined. It is rather a low neighbourhood—I don't know what took place in the public-house—they were all searched—no money was found on them—I know nothing against them—I believe Grimshaw has been in the service of Mr. Bull, 9, Commercial Road, Pimlico, for the last six or seven years.

WILLIAM BUTLER (Policeman B 297). I was in Strutton Ground at the time in question, and was called to Orchard Street about 9.40—I went to the corner of St. Anne's Street, which runs into Orchard Street, and saw the four prisoners, who ran into No. 21, and went into the back room—I went into the room, and saw Campbell and the other three—some stood up and some sat on the bed—Campbell said "What the b——hell do you want here?" or something to that effect—Smith came in and identified them.

Cross-examined. They did not seem to have been drinking.

GAMALE BUTLER . I am house physician at Westminster Hospital—I admitted the prosecutor on the evening of the 3rd June—he was insensible and suffering from concussion of the brain—he had a slight wound on the head, one on the nose, and one on the right cheek—the wound on the head might be caused by a blow or a fall on the ground—the concussion was not dangerous—he is quite well—I cannot say whether he had been drinking or not.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Grimshaw says: "I never touched the man—I was nowhere near him at the same time. There was not a

penny on us."Finch says: "I was coming out of the public-house when I was knocked down, and these three men took me home, as I was stunned, and there was quite a faction fight outside between soldiers and civilians." Coombes says: "I only saw these men, sir; I mean what Finch says is true." Campbell says: "I wish to call the inspector about the boy's evidence; the boy told the inspector I neither kicked him nor hit him."


They were again indicted for assault. No evidence was offered against FINCH. The facts being the same and arising out of the preceding case, the evidence was read over to the witnesses, and stated by them to be correct.

GUILTY. GRIMSHAW, COOMBES, and CAMPBELL — Six Months' Imprisonment each.

Reference Number: t18790630-606

606. CHARLES WILSON (42) and JAMES RICKARDS (34) PLEADED GUILTY to uttering counterfeit coin.—WILSON— Six Months' Imprisonment.

RICKARDS— Twelve Months'Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-607

607. HENRY TOLL (29) to feloniously assaulting Henrietta Sophia Siffkin, and stealing from her 26l. in money.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-608

608. MARTIN SCARBOROUGH** (33) to stealing a watch from the person of Annette Bresano.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-609

609. ISAAC LEVY (20) to obtaining by false pretences from Moreton Jacob Green an order for payment of 10l., also forging and uttering an indorsement on the said order, and to attempting to obtain by false pretences from J. C. Green the sum of 15l. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] The prosecutor recommended the prisoner to mercy, and he received a good character from his employer, who was willing to take him back. Discharged on the joint recognisances of his employer and himself to come up for judqment when called upon. And

Reference Number: t18790630-610

610. WILLIAM JAMES LOCKETT (34) to obtaining various sums of money from the Royal Exchange Benefit Society by false pretences.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, 1st July, 1879.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18790630-611

611. HENRY HOLLAND (60) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing 101 yards of silk, the goods of Francis Cook and others.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-612

612. SAMUEL SMITH** (41) to unlawfully assaulting Elizabeth Coleman, a girl under the age of 12 years, with intent, &c.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-613

613. JOHN WETTON (37) to feloniously marrying Frances Thompson during the life of his former wife.— Four Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

Reference Number: t18790630-614

614. EDWARD TIPPLE (34) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Frederick Otte, and stealing therein a jacket and dress, the goods of Fanny Millard, and a coat of Frederick Otte.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-615

615. GEORGE OLDMAN (23) (a soldier), Burglary in the dwelling-house of John Hempseed, and stealing therein a coat and other articles his property.

MR. WAITE Prosecuted.

JOHN HEMPSEED . I am a house decorator at Pimlico—about 2.30 a.m. on the 22nd May I slept in my house, on the ground floor, and was aroused by the bedroom door opening—I called "Who's there, but got no answer,

and I heard the street door bang—I jumped out of bed and went into the hall, and on going to the kitchen I found a box drawer open and the things turned out on the table—I found the tunic and belt, bundle, pair of boots, and knife produced—I missed my purse from the pocket of the coat I am wearing, which was hanging behind the door.

EDWARD CLOUGH (Police Sergeant). On the Saturday night the prisoner gave himself up to the regimental authorities at Kensington—I produce the tunic, belt, knife, stick, and boots which I took from the kitchen—the tunic has upon it the name "G. Oldman, 2nd Scots Guards, 78"—that I believe is the prisoner's name—I examined the premises and found this knife had been inserted and the window catch pushed back—when I took him in charge on the 22nd he made no reply to the charge.

ARCHIBALD MITCHELL . I am a colour-sergeant of the 2nd battalion of the Scots Guards—the prisoner was a private in my company—this tunic and belt belong to him, there is his name and number on the tunic, and the number of his accoutrements on the belt—I have frequently searched his kit, and have seen a knife like the one produced—he was absent the whole night on the 22 and May.

Prisoner's Defence. I had broken out of barracks on the night of 21st May, as I was under punishment, and had determined to desert I met a man in a public-house in Great Peter Street, Westminster, and gave him 3s. and my regimentals for the clothes I now wear, and I know nothing of the burglary.

NOT GUILTY . There was another indictment against him upon which no evidence was offered.

Reference Number: t18790630-616

616. WILLIAM HENDERSON** (38) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a watch and chain and other articles, value 100l., the goods of John William Lassam, in his dwelling-house; also to feloniously stealing three breast-pins and other goods, value 27l. 10s., in the dwelling-house of Charles Lord. He was further charged with having been previously convicted of felony on the 25th October, 1869, at this Court, in the name of Henry Stanhope.

ROBERT SERJEANT. I am a warder at Maidstone Prison, and had the prisoner in charge a considerable time—I produce a copy of the certificate of his conviction—the prisoner is the man.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had you under my charge in the cells—you were marked with a ring on the second finger of your left hand and some marks on your left wrist—I sent the description to the governor—the name given was Henry Stanhope, age 18, mariner—this photograph was taken—the tattoo marks are given here, "A ring on the second finger of the left hand and four crosses on the left wrist"—they told me in Newgate that you had more tattoo marks now—I can remember no scars or other marks; I know your face very well and I identified you last week.

The Prisoner in his Defence said he was not the man, and that the tattoo marks in the description were quite different from the marks he himself had, and that his name was William Henderson, and his initials, "W. H.," were tattooed on his arm; and also that the age given in the description would make him now 28, whereas he was 38, and looked it.

The Jury found the prisoner NOT GUILTY of the previous conviction.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18790630-617

617. WILLIAM JAMES AYTON (21) , Stealing a set of harness, a cab, and horse, the goods of John Joseph Davis, and a whip, cape, and apron, the goods of William Shepherd.

MR. CRISPS Prosecuted.

JOHN JOSEPH DAVIS . I am a cab proprietor at 14, Boston Place, Dorset Square—I am the owner of the Hackney carriage, No. 9518—William Shepherd is a driver in my employment; he had the cab on the 11th June, about 12 o'clock in the day, and he came to me in the evening and made a communication, in consequence of which I went with him to the Haymarket and saw the prisoner driving the cab—we were in another cab—Shepherd jumped out and ran to the prisoner and jumped on the spring of the cab, when the prisoner whipped the horse as hard as he could, and then struck Shepherd—I saw nothing more till I saw the horse lying down in the street with a crowd round.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I know Toby—I started him as a driver. William Shepherd. I am a cab-driver, 14257, and was, on the 11th June, about 9.30 p.m., out with Mr. Davis's cab, No. 9518, on the Tottenham Court Road cab rank—I left my cab with the attendant to go to have my tea, and was away about 40 minutes, and on my return the cab and horse were gone—I reported the matter at the Tottenham Court Road Police-court, and then went in a cab with my master and found the cab with the prisoner turning out of Rupert Street—I jumped on the spring of the cab and caught hold of the prisoner by the collar and seized the reins—I said "You have got my cab, hold hard"—he hit the horse and then began hitting me with the butt-end of the whip, and he told me if I did not let him go he would corpse me—the horse was going at a furious pace and went on to the pavement—I saw the constable at the corner of Leicester Square—the horse went on, and I was still standing on the spring holding the prisoner—he kept on beating me the whole time, and when we got to the corner of Castle Street the horse struck a post and fell down, and I gave up the prisoner to the police.

Cross-examined. My cab was on the rank at 9.30—I went to tea at Walters's Coffee-house, Euston Road, and returned to the rank about 10.10—I did not go into a public-house opposite the rank—I know Toby, but did not see him—you took the whip from the socket directly I mounted the cab, and you continued using it all the way to the square—I caught one half of the reins; you held the other away from me—I believe I pulled the horse on the pavement, and it struck the post and fell down, and you had to let go the reins—I did not send Toby to our place to see if the cab was there—I went to Mr. Davis and told him it was gone—the lamps were lit when I found you with the cab—I was perfectly sober—I had a hat on.

Re-examined. The whip, and rug, and knee-apron are mine.

WILLIAM BISHOP (Policeman C.) I was on duty at Leicester Square on the night of 11th June, and about 12.30, while with Detective Robinson, I saw a Hansom cab driven by the prisoner, coming at the rate of about 14 miles an hour—I attempted to stop the horse, and it knocked me down—I got up and ran after the cab, and saw the prisoner beating the last witness with the butt end of the whip—the reins were loose, and the horse run away, and at the corner of Leicester Square it caught a post and fell down—Shepherd was covered with blood, and said, "This man has stolen my cab"

—the prisoner afterwards said, "I did steal the cab—but did not intend to take it away."

Cross-examined. The whip was picked up near Cranbourne Street—you struck the horse in Coventry Street.

GEOFFREY CADMAN (Policeman C 141). I was in the neighbourhood of Leicester Square on the night of the 11th June, and saw a Hansom cab coming along at a furious rate, and the prisoner striking Shepherd over the head with the butt end of the whip, and Shepherd trying to get hold of the reins pulled the cab on to the kerb—the prisoner was then taken in custody by Bishop—I heard nothing said.

WILLIAM ROBERTSON (Policeman). I was on duty on the evening of 11th June with Bishop, and saw the cab driven by prisoner coming along—the figure 9 on the cab had been altered into a figure 8 by gome grease, and 1 found afterwards remains of grease on the prisoner's fingers.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: and also in his Defence was: "I am very sorry I took the cab from the rank, but did not intend to steal it".

GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted of felony on 7th December, 1876, at Bow Street, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Two Years' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-618

618. HENRY NORMAN (29) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 5l. 10s. 6d., with intent to defraud.


GEORGE CAMPBELL . I am a salesman to Messrs. Inwood and Co.m, the prosecutors—on 16th June prisoner came into the shop and told me he wanted goods for an advance note, which he showed me—I said, "You had better go to the City and see Mr. Campbell, my brother"—he said, "I will," and went away—he came back and asked if Mr. Inwood was in—I said, "No, he has gone away, but will be back in a little time if you will wait," but he said he could not, so I agreed to show him the goods, and he chose goods value 4l. 3s., and I gave him 1l. 7s. 6d. change—that is the note he gave me (produced)—I gave it to the cashier, and the goods were sent to the prisoner next morning.

WILLIAM DOBSON SMITH . I am cashier for Inwood and Campbell—I received the advance note produced from the last witness on 16th June, and gave him the change—I took the goods next day, and got the prisoner to sign the receipt for them—I then called the policeman, and gave him in charge for obtaining goods by means of a false advance note—he said, "Oh, nonsense," or something of that sort.

HENRY YOUNG (Policeman K 651). I apprehended the prisoner on the charge of passing a forged cheque—he said, "Oh, it's all a mistake, I can explain it"—going to the station he said, "It's no use my saying anything when I have been wrong."

Charles Cordukes. I am clerk to Bailey and Leatham, shipowners—they have no ship of the name of Astarte, mentioned in the paper produced, and no captain named Charles Malins, as stated there.

The Prisoner's Defence. "On Monday, the 16th, about dinner-time, I met a man named Mills, who said he had an advance note of a ship he was about to join in Ireland, and had been trying all over the place to get it cashed, and could not, and asked me if I thought of any one who would cash it We went to several places, but no one would cash it, not knowing him. He said,

'If you can give me some working clothes and a sovereign you can have if I did so, and went the same evening to Messrs. Inwood and ordered clothes value 4l. 3s., and ordered them to be sent to my lodgings, and gave them the note and received 1l. 7s. 6d. change, and they told me they would be sent out immediately. I returned to my lodgings and waited there. They were brought, and then the constable came and took me in custody on the charge. It appears that when the note was presented at Messrs. Bailey and Leatham's it was pronounced a forgery."

GEORGE CAMPBELL (Re-examined). I did not know the prisoner before—my brother is Alexander Campbell—the witness gave the address of his lodgings, and came back to the shop and asked when we were going to send the clothes.


OLD COURT.—Monday, June 30th.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 1st.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, July 2nd and 3rd, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18790630-619

619. EDWIN MILLS PLEADED GUILTY to a libel.— To enter into his own recognisances to appear and receive judgment if called upon.

Reference Number: t18790630-620

620. WILLIAM JOHN BURRELL (24) to stealings post-letter containing a 5l. note whilst employed in the Post-office.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-621

621. JOHN O'BRIAN (18) to a like offence.— Two Years' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-622

622. FRANK CLIFTON (19) to five indictments for forging and uttering certain money orders, being employed in the Post-office, and to one for misdemeanour.— Five Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-623

623. FREDERICK GRAFTON (60) , Embezzling the sums of 146l.18s., 136l., and 96l., received on account of Alexander Clark, his master.


GEORGE HENRY GODWIN . I am an accountant—I have audited the books of Clark and Co. since 1872, also of Bunnett and Co. since 1874—I have known the prisoner since 1870; I was always on friendly terms with him—he left the employment on 28th February, 1878—after that I went into the accounts to make up a statement as to how he stood; he had a copy of it—after that there was a meeting on 28th March—the whole of the books were produced that were necessary, and we went very fully into them—the interview lasted, I think, four hours, and a balance was agreed and struck—I sent him a fair copy of the account, with a letter making an appointment to exchange cheques on the 30th—he did not in any way refer to these accounts that he is now charged with having embezzled—on 28th Mr. Taylor went to the bank to make inquiries—on the 30th I received this letter from the prisoner, and this on 3rd March. (This called attention to certain errors in the account.) This letter of 2nd April is addressed to Mr. Clark (This stated that the balance due from him to the two firms was 698l. 15s. 6d.) At that time no reference was made to these three sums in question—I find a paying-in slip of 21st August, 1875, for 145l., and one for 146l., payable to Smith and Sons, dated July 28, 1875—I should say that cheque is in the handwriting of the prisoner—on 19th August, 1875, I find this entry, "F. Grafton, 169l. 15s. 10d.," in Bunnett's rough cash book; that indicates that F. Grafton's

account was to be credited with that amount—there is no other entry on that page in his writing—he has had the benefit of that 169l.

Cross-examined. At that time I was accountant for both the businesses of Bunnett and Co. and Clark and Co.—I think the first balance-sheet I drew out of Bunnett and Co. was in 1874, Clark and Co. in 1872—Mr. Turner had been at Clark and Co.'s before me; I believe he had done one balancesheet at Bunnett's; he received a larger salary than I did; he had about 80Z. per annum; I had 502. from Clark and Co.—I was examined at the police-court before Mr. Newton; there were nine or ten examinations—I presume Mr. Clark is here; I don't know—the 169l. 15s. 10d. in the rough cash-book represents a sum of money paid in to the company's credit at their bankers, and in the company's books it is credited to the prisoner in his own handwriting—that book is open in the company's office, and as the moneys come in they are entered to the names of the persons paying them in—this represents that sum as paid in by him to his own credit, and he had credit for it in the ledger; the ledger is here, it is entered to the account of F. Grafton, Esq.; the book-keeper, Mr. Johnson, gives him credit for it; it is his writing; it is entered from the rough cash-book, which is the foundation of all the entries that are made in the ledger—the sums of the firm and Mr. Grafton's money are not mixed together in this account—this is the journal which contains the whole of the entries belonging to the business of Bunnett and Co.; this represents that the 169l. 15s. 10d. was paid in the company's counting-house in money, and paid in afterwards to the company's banker; it is part of the total of the 406l.—there is nothing wrong in that particular item—it is the proceeds of amounts drawn by Clark and Co. to pay Smith's account—the notes have been traced—this 146l. 8s. was not alluded to at the interview of 28th March—I did not allude, to it; I did not know of it at that time; I don't recollect that I ever knew of that item; there were so many things that we were finding out about that time, but to the best of my knowledge I was not aware of that item—I had not called Mr. Clark's attention to it, or my own—Mr. Johnson had spoken to me about that 146l. 8s. a long time before; but I had no reason to recollect it as a matter connected with Mr. Grafton—Johnson did not tell me that he had omitted to debit Mr. Grafton with that amount; he mentioned it during the auditing while I was checking the books, about the time the entry was originally made, or a few months afterwards; it would be some time during the year; some question turned up about an amount of 146l. charged through. Peck's account—Johnson said there was something about an item of Smith's in Peck's account; I am speaking of some years ago—Johnson was then bookkeeper to Clark and Co.—he was sent down to Bunnett by Grafton; after the regular book-keeper of Bunnett had left the books were in arrear, and that is the reason some of the entries appear in his writing, this Amongst others—he never mentioned that he had omitted to debit Grafton's account with 146l. 8s.—he did not say that Grafton had taken the money for his own use and that he had told him to debit him with it; he never hinted at such a thing—he said there was something about the second item of 151l. through Peck's account, and I said "If it is in Peck's account of course it will come through it, because if it has been a cheque it must show through the books of the firm;" that ended the matter—there was a private account of Grafton's in both firms; you have it there—Bunnett and Co. stood in the relation of bankers to Grafton in that account—the joint moneys of master

and servant were not paid in to Bunnett and Co.'s account—the joint moneys of Grafton and Bunnett and Co. were paid into Bunnett and Co.'s bankers, the Deptford branch of the London and County—Clark and Co.'s moneys were never paid in to Bunnett's bank—Grafton had an account with Clark and Co., and also with Bunnett and Co., a drawing account, or a private banking account—he could draw moneys for himself from either account; he signed "Clark and Co." under a power of attorney, and he signed "Bunnett and Co." under a director's minute—as to the 146l. 8s., Johnson did not explain to me the circumstances under which he was ordered to debit Grafton's account with it, and that he had forgotten to do it; if he had it would have been my duty to see Grafton then charged with it—I was at the police-court, and heard Johnson give his evidence—Grafton never posted anything in the ledger; it is very seldom that a manager does; it is the book-keeper's duty to do it—I believe a warrant was issued for Grafton's apprehension—I was not consulted about it—I did not know that it was issued at the time—he has been in the employment of this firm 25 years—Mr. Clark is his brother-in-law; he married his sister—I do not know whether Mr. Clark is to be called as a witness; I have not the conduct of the case; he is here—he has regularly sent to him every six months a private account—he takes the same part in the business now that he has done for some years past—Mr. Taylor is the manager now—I am secretary to Bunnett and Co., just as Grafton used to be—he was manager to Clark and Co. as well—I believe Mr. Newton, the Magistrate, wished this case to be referred, and it was referred; at least, it was intended to be—this order of reference (produced) is Mr. Clark's writing. (This was dated 22nd May, 1878.) I know nothing of the contents of it; I have a general knowledge that it was arrived at—I am not aware that an action for wrongful dismissal has been brought against Mr. Clark—Mr. Turner was one of Mr. Grafton's sureties; he was bail for his appearance; I am not aware that he was surety for anything else—I can't say whether the Magistrate liberated Mr. Grafton on his own recognisances; the matter was arranged in a private room; I was not present—I understand that a second reference was suggested, that there was a dispute about the terms, and then a summons was issued; I only know it by hearsay—I know nothing about the power of attorney; my duties were confined simply to the figures and the books—I should say the signature to this power of attorney is Mr. Clark's—I believe Mr. Clark was taken ill in 1869; that was before my introduction, which was in 1872—Mr. Clark was examined before the Magistrate, I think, on one occasion—I understood that Mr. Grafton had unfettered discretion in the business (the power of attorney so stated), but I don't know anything of the nature of it; I never read it—in 1875 there was a balance to the prisoner's credit of 221l. 1s. 2d. with Clark and Co.; in 1876,161l. 5s. 5d.; and in 1877,108l. 12s. 8d.—he paid money in and drew money out as a matter of convenience—this was not an account for the business—he had the control of the business; Mr. Clark had unlimited confidence in him—he drew all the cheques in the name of Clark and Co., and he signed for Bunnett and Co. as secretary, and accepted all the bills—he could have drawn a cheque for 200l. on Bunnett and Co., and had it debited to his account—the cheque for 146l. 8s. was drawn for the purpose of tendering to Smith and Son by Clark and Co.; Mr. Taylor tendered it—I know now that that cheque was cashed across the counter, and the money tendered; I should not know it at the time—I know now that Smith

and Son refused the tender, and I heard that the bank-notes remained in Mr. Grafton's cash box; they were afterwards paid in to his account with Bunnett and Co.—if he had kept them they ought to have been debited to his account with Clark and Co.—I did not keep the books of Clark and Co. at that time; I only audited them; Mr. Johnson kept them—if he made a mistake in not debiting him it was his fault—the business of Clark and Co. is a very large and profitable one, amounting to some thousands, and Bunnett's also; they both make revolving shutters; they both belong virtually to Mr. Clark—the prisoner had not the entire management of both businesses; he was secretary to Bunnett and Co.; Mr. Taylor had the practical management, he was the sub-manager; the prisoner was nominally the manager, but Bunnett's took up so much of his time that he virtually did little at Clark's—I know of Grafton's dismissal by Clark on 28th February or 1st March—he had been to Paris—the business of Clark and Co. was to be made over to him and Mr. Taylor, and they began to manage it from 1st January in that sense—Grafton received the debts due to Clark and Co.—he only received the moneys accruing and belonging to the business credited after 1st January, 1878, as a matter of convenience, the business being virtually his—they were to pay by instalments—I do not know that Grafton actually paid 2,000l. to Clark or at the bankers' for wages; I should say it was not so; he paid 200l.—Mr. Garland, manager at the bank where the money would be paid in, is here—Grafton was 200l. out of pocket on making the final total balance of payments and receipts during the two months—he was credited with 200l.—ho drew 1,200l. partly from Clark and Co., 700l. from one and 500l. from the other business, and he claimed that as his own money—the date of the agreement for sale of the business to Grafton and Taylor was 28th February, and not having been executed it expired—I heard of Mr. Barron visiting Grafton before the warrant was issued against him, but do not know—Barron was not sent by Mr. Clark, and did not say so—I have been to Grafton's house—he lived at the same house at the time of the inquiry and when the warrant was issued—I do not know whether Barron gave him notice of the warrant—the book-keeping in both businesses was in arrear—Mr. Stevens was book-keeper at Bunnett's, and went to New Zealand—I checked the books, but did not make them up—I made no inquiry about the 126l. or asked for any voucher; its going into the bank is a receipt for it.

Re-examined by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I audited the accounts—I audit other people's accounts also—Bunnett and Co. had an account with the Deptford branch of the London and County Bank, and all accounts paid in by Grafton were paid into that account—he was credited with all the amounts he paid in his own name—as far as the bank was concerned ail moneys were paid in by Bunnett and Co. to their own credit—I am speaking of the ledger acconnt—all moneys received for the company were paid in to their credit at the London and County Bank, Deptford, and any accounts paid in. by Grafton to his own credit would so appear in this account—all sums paid in by him would be put down to his credit—if the books had been properly kept he ought to have been charged with all money he had received which belonged to Bunnett and Co., and the 145l. which he received, and which, as appears by the paying-in slip, was paid into Bunnett and Co. on 19th August, 1875, would have been so charged—the grand total was 334l. 16s. 6d., partly composed of 145l. in notes, and is credited in the books to Bunnett and Co.—the whole of the accounts are collected in this journal

(produced)—it does not show as an entry the amount paid on 19th August into the bank at Deptford—it is shown by the cash-book and the pass-book—it is 334l. 16s. 6d. received from various customers whose names are in that book—amongst them you will find F. Grafton, and he paid on that day 169l. 15s. 10d., which included the 145l. according to the paying-in slip, and he is credited with it—he is never debited with it in the books—if it belonged to Clark and Co. he should have been debited in their books, and if to Bunnett and Co. in their books.

By MR. GRANTHAM. The 169l. 15s. 10d. would not have been credited to him at the end of the year—whoever made up the book should have given him credit for it—it was part of the 334l. 16s. 6d., and breaking that up to arrive at the 165l. 15s. 10d. he must have known what it was composed of—accounts on both sides were sent to Mr. Clark half yearly—Grafton had a current account and a ledger, and in that ledger he has had the benefit of the 169l. 15s. 10d. in a sum of 406l. 0s. 11d.—Grafton kept the ledger—he would have seen the amount there credited to him for six or twelve months; the books of Bunnett and Co. were balanced yearly—if not credited with that amount the balance in his books would have been 169l., or 15s. 10d. less, and so with the other sums—about 2,000l. altogether has been credited to him in that way in three years—I,054l. 15s. 7d.—Mr. Johnson did not tell me that Grafton had told him to debit him with 151l.—this letter is from Johnson. ("15th September, 1876. Mr. Godwin. Dear Sir,—The following are the particulars composing the amount, of 460l. 3s. 9d.: Paid per Mr. Peck July 21, 100l. 8s. 2d., for interest on mortgage St. Bride Street; August 3rd, 24l. 12s. 4d., lease and fixtures; 9l. 16s. 1d., ground rent; 123l. 19s. 2d., rent to Michaelmas, St. Bride Street; August 10th, 151l. 8s., This cheque bears his endorsement, and I cannot tell what it was for," &c). He did not tell me what the letter was for—the balances appearing in Clark's books would all have been different by these amounts if they had been properly charged.

By the COURT. The payments to Grafton's credit were his private moneys—in large houses instead of paying clerks' salaries weekly, monthly, or quarterly, they have the privilege of being credited half-yearly, and that was the custom with Grafton—all payments to his credit were private matters. By the Jury. I should not at the next audit inquire for the receipts corresponding with the counterfoils in the cheque-book—the books and cheques are usually taken in audit as evidence—the cheques were drawn as to the debit of the drawing account of Alexander Clark—Mr. Clark had a copy of his account half-yearly—I did not ask for vouchers of each of the payments in the year at the last audit; the cheques are vouchers—the counterfoils were very irregular, many of them blank—they were not altered or interfered with or destroyed—I should say it was Grafton's duty to debit the 151l. 8s. himself as soon as paid by Mr. Taylor—it was drawn payable to Smith and Son, and debited to them in their ledger account, they being creditors for the same amount.

By the COURT. The entry in the book would be "Smith and Son's "on both sides, the charge and the discharge, and it would have become then the contra entry, which would have been strictly right.

By MR. GRANTHAM. It ought not to have been paid into Bunnett's under any circumstances—the accounts of the two businesses were not mixed up together.

By the JURY. The audit did not show that the cheque had been drawn for Smith and Son and not received by them or accounted for—the audit discloses only that the cheque was paid; it was drawn to Smith, debited and credited, and charged to Smith, and Clark and Co. paid that money, and are out of pocket at this moment—the books show that a cheque for 146l. 8s. was paid to Smith—the bookkeeper would only know that the cheque had been drawn, he does not see every cheque paid—the cashier pays the cheques, the bookkeeper never sees them paid—the cashier sees that a receipt is given for the cheques paid—in this case it was done by Grafton. By the Court. The only information to show that it was an error would be the information from Grafton himself.

By MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Accommodation bills were drawn by Bunnett and Co. on Clark and Co., but bills of 500l. and so on were drawn by Bunnett and Co. representing real strict business transactions, accepted by Clark and Co., and signed by Grafton as secretary under the power of attorney—Bunnett and Co. manufactured for Clark and Co. very largely—a bill of 800l. has been drawn, but merely as a matter of business on goods supplied, and they were discounted—this bill was strictly a business bill.

Re-examined. The steel delivered was manufactured into what is called sparrells, and it was charged by Bunnett and Co. to Clark and Co.—they sometimes paid by cheque, but bills were often given, which were discounted by the London and County Bank.

FRANK WILLIAM HARDS . I am manager to Hards, Vaughan, and Co., of Greenwich—they sold some property at the auction mart in July, 1878, and I produce a contract for the purchase signed "F. Grafton"—the price of the lease was 680l., and a deposit of 36l. had to be paid by Grafton, for which this cheque (produced) was given.

Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. I knew Mr. Grafton before—the purchase was a leasehold house in St. Mary's Road, Peckham—he lived in it down to a very recent date—there was no concealment about it; it was an open auction.

EDMUND TAYLOR . I am manager to Messrs. Clark and Co.—Messrs. W. H. Smith and Co. did business for them in 1875, and in July, 1876, an account for 156l. was sent in to Clark and Co.—I had some conversation with Mr. Grafton, who drew a cheque for 146l. 8s., and directed me to cash it and tender the notes to Messrs. Rogerson and Ford, the solicitors to Messrs. Smith—I cashed the cheque at the Holborn branch of the London and County Bank, and received a 100l. note (50827), dated March, 1875; two 20l. notes (41981 and 41982); one 5l. note (25231), May 29, 1875, and 1l. 8s. in money—I tendered those notes to Rogerson and Ford; they stamped some of them, but did not accept them, and I returned with the money to Mr. Grafton, handed it to him, and told him the result—he put them, in his cash-box and said that he would speak to Mr. Peck, the solicitor, about the matter, by whom I afterwards found the matter was settled, and this cheque (produced) for 151l. 8s., payable to Mr. Peck, was drawn by Mr. Grafton, on 10th August, 1875—my attention was afterwards drawn to the state of Smith's account in the books, and I said to Mr. Grafton, "Peck's account seems to show that he has paid this matter of Smith; what has become of the notes that I tendered to his solicitors?"—he said, I suppose Peck had them"—a communication was afterwards made to Mr. Peck and he came to the office—I spoke to him, and he rather warmly

denied having the notes; Mr. Grafton said, "I suppose I must have paid them into the bank"—that was about the end of 1876, when Mr. Peck's account was returned with the charge of 151l. 8s. in it—the matter then dropped—J was engaged exclusively at Clark and Co.'s—Mr. Grafton came two or three times a week, and I paid over to him the whole of the money I had received for the business; he entered it in a rough cash-book, and it was paid into the bank—he drew all cheques and ordered all goods, but as to the actual working of the business he did nothing; not as to making bargains—when he came to Rathbone Place he remained a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes—the other work was done by me.

Cross-examined. My position then was sub-manager—Mr. Grafton did pretty well what he liked—I have not succeeded him as secretary; I am in the same position as before, only instead of calling myself sub-manager I call myself manager—I am a director of Bunnett's now; I was not before—I presume I have been qualified; I hold one share—Mr. Clark did not give it to me, nor did I buy it—I hardly know whether it belongs to me—I dare say if you ask the solicitor to the company he will be able to give you an answer—if anybody attempted to take the share from me I should not resist; they could have it—it is not valueless—here is Grafton's account with Clark and Co.—it is a very large business—I do not collect the money, I take it from the collectors and hand it to Mr. Grafton, who pays it into the bank to the credit of Clark and Co.—perhaps on the whole there is an average turn-over of 20,000l. or 30,000l. a year to Clark of business done—he had no banking account at Deptford; that was Bunnett and Co.'s account—the 1875 account is not one which was opened with Grafton; they are credited with their salaries here—there was a balance in his favour in 1875 of 225l. 1s. 2d.—this balance, brought down, January 1, 1875, 58l. 16s. 9d., was in favour of Mr. Grafton, I believe—this, "By cash 230l.," "By cash 210l.," is money paid by him—there is an entry to Grafton's credit with Clark and Co.—I believe one other clerk has an account like Mr. Grafton's; here is my own account, opened on 31st June, 1874—I had not the power to draw on this account; Mr. Grafton was the only person who had power to do so, under a power of attorney—here is another account of George Wilson, in 1873—my account is for my salary only—Mr. Johnson was the book-keeper; he left in 1877—there is a private account of Clark and Co.—Mr. Grafton drew every cheque that was required—he may have drawn for Mr. Clark's private account for Mr. Clark's private debts—I paid in 800l. or 900l. to Grafton's account in 1878 in reference to a proposed purchase of the business—those were the moneys which had been collected since January, 1878, of Clark and Co.—no formal agreement was drawn up, otherwise I should be in the possession of the business now with Mr. Grafton—Grafton was dismissed on 1st March, since when he has established himself in London and in Paris in the same business, a patent shutter manufactory—Mr. Clark is paralysed; the doctor said that he should not attend to business, and he generally referred everything to Mr. Grafton—the agreement between me and Mr. Grafton was given up at Marlborough Street Police-court, and I have destroyed it since—I do not know whether it was part of the terms of reference—I have not filed a bill in Equity—Mr. Clark did not ask me to destroy it; I had nothing to do with Mr. Clark—I destroyed it because there was no further use for it—Grafton's being prosecuted had nothing to do with it—I tore it up

with my own hands and burnt it, not in anybody else's presence—I have no copy of it—there was a penalty in it—I decline to answer whether it was 2,000l.—it is a private matter—I destroyed it after the first proceedings at the police-court, not after the final summons.

Re-examined. Bunnett and Co. purport to be a company limited—I am one of the directors now—the first hearing before the Magistrate took place in March 1878—prior to that there had been negotiations between Grafton and me on one side, and Mr. Clark on the other, for the purchase of the business; those negotiations had not come to a head, but they were going on—I recollect Grafton going to Paris, and returning in the latter part of February, after which this was discovered, and he was discharged on March 1st—there was an agreement between him and me which is the one I have destroyed—it did not contain the terms upon which the business should be carried on if it became ours—there are a good many servants of this company, and Grafton made contracts in writing with them after his dismissal—he established himself as a shutter maker about April or May, 1878—Grafton drew all cheques for Clark and Co., but I do not know about Bunnett's—when he received money there should be an entry of it in the cash journal—this 1462. 8s. which came into his hands in July, 1875, ought to have been entered in Clark and Co.'s rough cash-book, but there is no such entry, it would then have gone back to the bank where it was taken from—from the rough cash-book it would be posted to Smith's account, which, instead of being closed, still remained open—if he put his initials in the counterfoil to show that he took this 136l. cheque for his own purposes that would be right, and so with regard to the 96l. that is charged to Clark's account also—if the bookkeeper saw that a sum had been paid by cheque signed "Clark and Co.," and did not know what it was for, he would debit it to Clark's private account in the absence of instructions—the balance I have referred to results from the figures in the book; but these three sums amounting to 378l. 8s., are not in the book at all—the balance would be diminished on one side and increased on the other, as other sums were brought in—I was before the Magistrate, and there was other charges besides the three we are dealing with. (MR. SARJEANT PARRY objected to other charges being gone into. The COURT ruled that it could be done to exclude the possibility of error, but the ATTORNEY-GENERAL postponed the further examination of the witness.)

HENRY MILLER . I am a clerk at the Deptford branch of the London and County Bank—on 20th August, 1875, 334l. 16s. 6d. was paid in to the order of Bunnett and Co.; there was in it a 100l. note, 50827, March 17th, 1875, and two 20l. notes, 41981 and 41982, February 19, 1875.

GEORGE HENRY GODWIN (Re-examined), I produce Clark and Co.'s ledger for 1875—the cheque for 136l. is debited to Alexander Clark's private drawing account—this is the counterfoil, and here is the cheque—there is no entry to prove that it was drawn for his private account; it says "Hard and Vaughan, 136l.," in the defendant's writing—from this it would be put into the cash-book first, and then into the ledger—the entry in the cash-book in Johnson the book-keeper's writing is "July 28, 1875, A, Clark, Hard and Vaughan, 136l."—he would naturally take it that it would be for Mr. Clark's private account—it goes from the cash-book to the journal, in which the entry is "Hard and Vaughan 136l.;" that forms a total of 524l. 9s. 4d. with other sums, and the whole of that, including the 136l., is charged to

the credit of Alexander Clark—I did not debit Grafton at the end of the year with that 136l.; the entry I have read you ends the matter—lie had an account, and also a private account in Clark and Co.; but he was not debited in any way with the 136l.—the amount to Mr. Grafton's debit from June to August, 1875, does not amount to 10l., and 10l. cannot contain 136l.—it is not there—he was credited at the end of the year with 221l. 1s. 2d., and deducting the assumed balance that shows a debit at the end of the year of 61l. against him, if that has been properly debited to him.

Cross-examined. I have not a copy of the private account sent every six months to Mr. Clark, nor of the private account rendered to Mr. Clark in 1875, containing the name of Hards, Vaughan, and Co.

HENSLEY TOPHAM HILL . I am a clerk in the Bank of England—I produced a 100l. note, 50827, March 17, 1875, two 20l. notes, 41981 and 41982, February 19, 1875, and a 5l. note, 25231, May 29,1875, all marked as paid in by the London and County Bank, Deptford.

Cross-examined. These notes are torn; they are always torn directly they come in.

EDMUND TAYLOR (Re-examined). The stamp of Rogerson and Ford is on these notes in blue ink, but it is very indistinct.

CHARLES HENRY GARLAND . I am manager of the Holborn branch of the London and County Bank—Clark and Co. kept an account there, and Mr. Grafton had a separate account—I see by the cancelment of it that this cheque for 146l. 8s. of 28th July, 1875, signed Clark and Co., was cashed at my branch—the notes given for it were a 100l. note, 50827, two 20l. notes, 49891 and 49892, and a 5l. note, 25321.

Cross-examined. I have known Grafton about 12 years, during which time there was an account of Clark and Co. at the bank, and Grafton had the sole control of it—if it was overdrawn the matter was negotiated with Mr. Grafton, who has frequently, when I have demurred, asked me to take his word, and anything I had of his in my hands; in fact, he treated it as his own, and I dealt with him just as I should with Mr. Clark—I had something better than a power of attorney, for I had Grafton's signature, and Clark's also—I have seen Grafton at the place of business—I always looked upon him as a man of honour and integrity, unquestionably—he has had to deal with more than a quarter of a million in the banking account; Clark's account would approach to that—I should not knew if he paid money of his own into Clark and Co.'s account or into the business—in January, 1878, he worked the business apparently from his own private account, and I knew him to pay wages last year out of his private account approximating to 2,000l.—he drew out when he was dismissed two sums of 700l. and 500l., which sums I remember his paying in, one on Bunnett and Co., and one on Clark and Co., signed by himself—the whole of that could not have been drawn out—he had the financial management of two large businesses, which would entail a great deal of labour on any man.

Re-examined. I had Grafton's signature alone as Clark and Co.—he had the complete management of the account, and he drew in the name of Clark and Co.—if he had drawn in any other name we should not have honoured the cheque—he drew on his own account, in his own name—he told me that there was some arrangement about the business being carried on from 1878 by himself and Taylor, but I did not go into the particulars—I should not say that he was a particularly good man of business, looking

at it as bankers look at business—we had do account of Bunnett and Co.—we keep Mr. Alexander Clark's private account, and Grafton's power of attorney would give him power to draw on that; his cheques would have been honoured—I cannot say from recollection whether he did draw upon it—I knew that Grafton was Mr. Clark's brother-in-law, and that he had the sole control of the business.

JOHN BASSETT . I am book-keeper at Bunnett and Co.'s—I have been in their service 28 years—in Sept, 1875, Mr. Grafton wished me to go to the auction room, Tokenhouse Yard, and bid for him for some land that was to be sold at Peckham, adjoining his house; he gave me an auction list first and then gave me this blank cheque (produced), signed Clark and Co., with the amount left out—I went to the auction and bid, and the property was knocked down to me; the deposit money was 96l.—I filled up this cheque for that sum and handed it to the auctioneer—I told Mr. Grafton what I had done when I came back—that was on September 23, 1875—I do not know when the balance was paid or what the stipulations were about that.

Cross-examined. This is not my writing, "Pay Mr. Luckhurst or order," but the 96l. is in my writing, both in words and figures—Mr. Clark was not present when I received the cheque—I filled it up in the auction room after the bidding—Mr. Grafton gave me no orders to keep it secret—I may have said to my friends that it was knocked down for less than Mr. Grafton was prepared to give for it or I may not.

Re-examined. I am not employed at Queen Street, but at the New Cross Works—I enter such transactions of Clark and Co. as are sold to them—it was not my business to enter this cheque in any book, because it was not for goods manufactured—the auctioneer would pay it into his bankers, and I presume it would be returned to Clark and Co.

GEORGE HENRY GODWIN (Re-examined). I produce Clark and Co's ledger of 1875—I find no entry on the counterfoils or a cheque of this date, but here is a blank counterfoil—Mr. Luckhurst's name is not here—the cheque appears in the ledger in an amount of 15,411l. 8s. 4d. to the debit of Alexander Clark, it also appears in the cash-book and journal—the entry in the cash-book is, "1875, Sept 23rd, A. Clark, Esq., Luckhurst 96l."—that is a debit to the prosecutor—from the cash-book it is entered into the journal, and forms part of the 15,411l. 8s. 4d.—I should say that this "Luckhurst" on the cheque is in the writing of Mr. Ernest Grafton, the son—there is a debit to Mr. Grafton of 96l., and if you add the balance that would give him a debit of 157l. at the end of the year; in other words, there is a deficiency of 378l., which he took the benefit of within the dates mentioned.

Cross-examined. I was the auditor, but did not examine the counterfoil of this cheque—I did not ask for any vouchers or receipts for the 136l. or 96l.

Re-examined. When I audited the accounts I found those two amounts, debited to Alexander Clark's private account, and had no reason to suppose that there was anything wrong—the debits were very numerous.

EDMUND TAYLOR (Re-examined). Clark and Co. were in the habit of dealing with Mr. Eadon, of Holborn, an agent for the sale of springs for revolving shutters—the springs made by Eadon were supplied to Clark and Co., and invoices rendered to them; a three months' acceptance was then given for the amount—when springs were supplied it was necessary that they should be tempered or prepared in some way before they could be used,

and they were sent to the New Cross Manufactory; they were there tempered by Bunnett and Co., and afterwards delivered to Clark—this (produced) is an invoice signed by Eadon on 23rd September, 1874, for 93l. 3s. 5d., the price of a quantity of springs, for which this (produced) is the acceptance at five months due on 18th January, 1875—the signature to the acceptance is Eadon's writing, but the acceptance itself in the name of Clark is Grafton's writing; that has been duly honoured—Eadon had nothing to do with Bunnett and Co. as far as I know; that 93l. 3s. 5d. was a transaction of Clark and Co. pure and simple, and not of Bunnett and Co.

Cross-examined. That would be the regular course of business in the payment of Mr. Eadon—Clark and Co.'s acceptance is in Mr. Grafton's writing; he had the power of giving acceptances for the firm—I know nothing of the transactions of Bunnett and Co., and cannot say whether they supplied springs to Eadon; I never used to go to Bunnett's works or to Clark's works; I am at the works at New Cross—I have seen Mr. Eadon at Rathbone Place—I am positive Grafton has not received orders there for Bunnett and Co.—I can give you no information as to whether Eadon supplied Bunnett and Co.—if there was a joint-supply that might be paid for by one bill of exchange and arranged afterwards, and I presume he would arrange in such matter—Mr. Grafton's power was that of a principal to all intents and purposes.

JOHN EDWARD LUCAS . In 1874 I was works manager at Bunnett and Co.'s manufactory, New Cross—I remember the springs to which this invoice refers being delivered there to be tempered for Clark and Co.—they were tempered, and they went on to Clark and Co.—I was in Bunnett and Co.'s employ from the time it was started—they certainly had no direct transactions with Eadon.

Cross-examined. I have a clear recollection of their being tempered and sent back to Clark and Co.'s—I have seen Eadon at the works of Bunnett and Co. and Clark and Co.—he is a highly-respectable gentleman.

Re-examined. The two manufactories join at New Cross; one belongs to Bunnett and the other to Clark—the springs were tempered at Bunnett and Co.'s because Clark and Co. could not temper them, not having a good place to do it.

GEORGE HENRY GODWIN (continued). I produce the books of Clark and Co.—there is in them an acceptance of Eadon's invoice of September 23rd, 1874, for 93l. 8s. 5d.; if it had appeared at that time with "Clark and Co." struck out and "Bunnett and Co." put in, it would not have appeared in Clark and Co.'s books at all—if it had originally been "Bunnett and Co." it would never have got into Clark and Co.'s books—I have an entry of a bill on 21st June, 1875, by Clark and Co.—that would not have been accepted by Clark and Co. if it was an invoice to Bunnett and Co.—Bunnett and Co. are debited with it—G. A. Eadon is credited with springs sold, 93l. 3s. 5d., in Bunnett and Co.'s books; the entry is in Mr. Johnson the bookkeeper's writing, who would make it from the invoice, assuming that "Clark and Co." had been struck out and "Bunnett and Co." put in—there is a very faint pencil entry in the ledger under the heading, "G. A. Eadon, December 24th, by goods 93l. 3s. 5d." and that is deducted from the 75l. in Bunnett and Co.'s book, leaving 18l. 3s. 5d.; that is the amount of cash that has been paid—that pencil entry, I should pay, is in Grafton's writing—I should think it got rubbed out when the ledger was cleared up—there is no other account of Eadon's in Bunnett's books; the account was opened

for that transaction alone—I say that the pencil marks are in Grafton's writing, but if you take a cheque and compare it you can judge for yourself—the entry ought not to have had any existence in Bunnett's books, but Bunnett is debited with it thus: "1875, London and County Bank, January, 251.; May 14th, 25l.; August 12th, 25l.; 1876, August 22nd, 18l. 3s. 5d.," making a total of 93l. 3s. 5d.—in the counterfoil of Bunnett and Co.'s cheque-book I find, "January 5th, 1875, Eadon, steel, 25l.;" that corresponds with the entry in the ledger of the same date—we cannot find that counterfoil or the two next, but we have the cheques; one is May 14th, 25l.—I find a counterfoil of the fourth cheque, which is "Eadon, 18l. 3s. 5d." which I say is in Mr. Grafton's writing—that is for blind tick or ticking, but it is blotted—the "Eadon" is, I say, in Mr. Grafton's writing—Eadon lived in Sheffield, but he had an office in Thavies Inn—the two cheques payable to bearer do not bear Eadon's endorsement—the first cheque, January, 1875, is payable to order, and bears Eadon's endorsement—the acceptance is dated January 18th—I know Eadon's signature—he is in Australia, but I heard from him a few days ago—this is the original cheque; it is drawn by G. A. Eadon for 25l. on the London and South-Western Bank, January, 1875, payable to Frederick Grafton, Esq., or order, and the private account of Frederick Grafton is credited with the 25l.—that 25l. goes into the bank, and afterwards Grafton takes credit for it for his private account—Bunnett is there debited with the whole amount of 93l. 3s. 2d., as well as Clark and Co.; the amount is paid twice over.

Cross-examined. I cannot say in whoso writing the crossing of the cheque is, as it is only two straight lines—Grafton was not my master—an auditor takes a professional fee, but a servant receives a salary and attends at regular hours—I receive my fee half-yearly—you do not offend me by calling me a servant—Mr. Grafton drew the cheques with which I was paid—I do not know that Mr. Grafton sometimes drew cheques for a tradesman, and actually cashed them for him, or that he drew cheques for Mr. Clark and cashed them for him—I did not know that the 93l. 3s. 5d. was one of the sums referred to arbitration—the accounts referred to arbitration were made out by me; I will correct myself; it is difficult to deal with a mass of figures—I do not know that Mr. Eadon supplies steel to Bunnett and Co.—all the cheques I produce, and the invoices and all the entries I myself found out there, are here in Court; they were, I presume, left by Mr. Grafton; it is entered in the invoice-book copied from the altered invoice—the books are kept at Queen Street, but the steel was received at New Cross—the steel was entered from Clark and Co.'s statement, and not from the invoice—both firms have paid for the same goods—in Bunnett's invoice-book or journal there is an entry of Eadon's supply of goods to them, and in Clark and Co.'s books also—I have heard of such a thing as a duplicate order for goods—I never heard that Grafton had lent 25l. to to Eadon—this 25l. cheque is first charged as a payment to Eadon, and after as a payment by Grafton to his own credit—anybody as acute as me would not see it in a moment; I could not see it in the books—I audited the books in 1875 for both firms—I did not see the invoices or look at the counterfoils, or ask for the receipts; I accepted the books as evidence—I call that an and it; if I had wanted an explanation I should have asked the bookkeeper, and if he had not explained I should have gone to Grafton for it—in auditing accounts I do not ask for receipts or vouchers; cheques are

vouchers—I have not always asked for vouchers since this, but I have sometimes, and I sometimes did then; in this instance I did not—had I asked for receipts and they were not produced I should not have passed the audit, as probably these things would have been disclosed or explained—I cannot give an opinion as to whether Grafton's mouth would not have been closed if I had inquired further into the matter—he would have been called upon for an explanation by Clark—"blind tick" is known in the trade that would be an intelligible expression—I cannot produce the counterfoils of the other two 25l. cheques.

Re-examined. Eadon was paid by means of those four cheques, and that closed the account—I find in Clark and Co.'s books a similar account, a credit to Eadon of 93l. 3s. 5d. for goods, on December 23, 1876, so that unless goods to that amount were delivered to Clark and Co., and another lot of goods to that amount to Bunnett's, that account must be entered twice over, and paid twice over—the entry is, "1875, bill due 21st Jan., 93l. 3s. 5d."—there is, I believe, no entry of the weight of the goods—on the invoice altered from Clark and Co. to Bunnett and Co., in Grafton's writing, the words over the stamp, "Received by cash on account 25l.," are in Eadon's writing—from this it appears that before the acceptance was given Eadon received in cash 25l. in advance, and here is a cheque in Jan. for 25l., payable to Grafton, Esq.—if that was a repayment of the cash advanced on the 25th the account would be squared—the acceptance of the 15th was given for the full amount, and if money had been paid in advance that would make it straight—this cheque being payable to Grafton, if he had advanced the money himself it would be quite proper to carry it to his private account—Bunnett and Co. are credited with the 25l., and Eadon is debited—these three cheques to Eadon, payable on account of Bunnett and Co., limited, would lead me to believe that the amount was discharged, and when I audited the books I assumed that it was all correct—the books show a credit to Eadon of 93l. 3s. 5d., discharged by Bunnett and Co. in that way—on this statement for the goods made out against Clark and Co., dated Jan. 18, 1875, the words at the foot, "By acceptance at five months, G. A. Eadon," are Mr. Eadon's writing—I should call the acceptance a receipt—I find no separate receipt—when an account is discharged by cheque it is usual to get a receipt in full when the last cheque is given—in a case like this loose receipts might be given—it is a very general custom in business to send in statements of accounts. (A paper was fare handed to the Jury in which the word "cheque" had been altered to "cheques") There is no cheque of the same date preceding that—on the face of it there appear to have been two descriptions of the same amount on the same day with the two firms—this book (produced) is Bunnett and Co.'s; it purports to be "Goods received from and on account of Clark and Co."—it is in the store-keeper's writing at the works.

JOHN EDWARD LUCAS (Re-examined). Bunnett and Co. used very few springs in their business, and those they did use they had from Clark and Co.—I recollect 1 ton 17 cwt. 12 qrs. 2 lb. of springs being tempered after 3rd December, 1874—there was no other similar lot tempered, all the goods tempered at that time were a lot ordered by Clark and Co., and ultimately sent to them—the book which has been produced was kept by my instructtions at Bunnett and Co.'s factory; it contains an account of all goods from Clark and Co. to be made up by Bunnett and Co.—it is not in my writing,

it is Tattersall's writing—he has not been in the employ for some time—this entry is in his writing, "28 Dec, 1874, Received 45 bundles of steel by railway"—it refers to those goods—they were received from Clark and Co., tempered, and returned to them—no similar lot of goods were received by Bunnett and Co. to my knowledge.

Cross-examined. I know Eadon—I believe he is an agent for springs, who would receive payments—I have now the whole management of Bunnett and Co.—Grafton had the whole management before me—Bunnett and Co. bought a lot of Clark's patents and sold them—they did not have a lot of material from Eadon, they bought of Clark and Co.—they did not actually make these shutters at Tunbridge Wells, which I call Clark and Co.'s patent, Bunnett and Co. made their patent shutters—there were two patents—there were two workshops at New Cross, and only one door dividing them—they were certainly not the same virtually—I have one share; I am not a director; I decline to say who gave me the share or whether I can go in and vote—Bunnett and Co. have supplied shutters at Leeds—I have seen Eadon come down to see Grafton to buy materials for Bunnett and Co.—Clark and Go. and Bunnett and Co. are entirely distinct, but Clark owns almost all the shares in Bunnett and Co., which was formerly a rival establishment, but Clark bought it up almost—Bunnett and Co. tendered for shutters and so did Clark and Co., one against the other—they knew nothing as a rule of each other's tenders.

Re-examined. At the time Mr. Grafton was there I always gave the estimates myself—I did not give them to him, I sent them away to the parties who asked for them—Bunnett and Co.'s patent was entirely different from Clark and Co.'s—the accounts were regularly debited and credited for anything that passed between them—Bunnett's was the oldest patent—in Bunnett and Co.'s Grafton had a commission of 5 per cent., the same as myself; in Clark and Co.'s he had simply a commission—I am sure Eadon supplied no steel to Bunnett and Co.—I do not know where the steel came from there.

JOHN BASSETT (Re-examined). This is the book kept by the store-keeper to enter goods received on account of Clark and Co.—I was at New Cross entirely—I have got the works' journal there—if there had been a genuine entry for Bunnett and Co. it would have appeared in this journal, hut it does not—the sales are on one side in black ink, and on the other all purchases in red ink.

Cross-examined. Old shutters were brought from Bunnett's in Queen Square by their cart to New Cross to be repaired, and occasionally screws from an ironmonger in the City—goods delivered at Rathbone Place were not brought to Bunnett and Co.'s to my knowledge, and they were very rarely brought from Queen Street—only very light goods weighing 5 or 101b.—the average weight of springs which the vans would carry would, be about 18 cwt.—I never knew Bunnett and Co.'s vans go to Rathbone Place.

Re-examined. Queen Street is a very small office—a considerable quantity of steel would not be stored there—the quantity of steel represents a considerable bulk—a small piece of iron shutter could be repaired there, but nothing beyond that—half a dozen men at the outside worked there, the staff which was kept for repairing—if my shutters were out of order I should send them there to be repaired—at Queen Street sometimes six, sometimes seven men were kept—they may not be there half an hour a week—we do not want

them there, and any work that is done is sent away at once—it is merely a house of call for the men.

GEORGE PARK WARD . I am a steel manufacturer—I knew Mr. Eadon formerly very intimately—I did not supply steel to his order—I sent no steel to Bunnett and Co. in 1874, he dealt with another firm at that time.

HENRY MILLER (Re-examined). This cheque of Jan. 5 for 25l. wag paid in to the Deptford branch to Bunnett and Co.'s account on 21st Jan. 1875—the cheque of May 14 payable to bearer was paid over the counter in 5l. notes—the cheque for 25l. of Aug. 12 to bearer was paid over the counter on 30th Aug. in five 5l. notes—I do not speak to the 18l. cheque that was paid at the Holborn branch—it is not possible for "order" to be scratched out and "bearer" put in without being initialled—I know that "bearer" was written by the drawer of the cheque—the numbers of the 5l. notes on May 14 were 56810 to 56815, and the cheque of Aug. 12 was paid on Aug. 30 with Nos. 94669 to 94673.

Cross-examined. There are three 25l. cheques here, two of which were paid over the counter—the cheque where "order" is struck out and "bearer" put in was paid at the Holborn branch; mine is the Deptford branch—I cannot say to whom the two cheques were paid over the counter.

CHARLES HENRY GARLAND . I am manager of the Holborn branch of the London and County Bank—a cheque for 18l. 3s. 5d. was paid in on 21st July, 1876, to the credit of Clark and Co. in a sum of 89l. 1s. 5d.

Cross-examined. It was paid in in Clark's favour; that is, they could avail themselves of the amount—the payment in would afford the very readiest means of it being trace 1, our stamp is immediately placed across it.

H. T. HILL (Re-examined). I produce a 51. note, No. 56,811, endorsed "Kemp for F. Grafton"—it was paid in through Barclays, I cannot tell by whom—I also produce a 51. note 94670 endorsed "Grafton, E. F. G.," which was paid in on 11th Oct., 1875, by the National Provincial—I also produce notes 94671, 94672, and 94673; the latter is endorsed "M. Grafton" in a lady's writing.

Cross-examined. I do not know that that is the writing of the prosecutor's niece, his sister's child.

EDWARD F. GALLOWAY . I am a baker of 11, Alfred Terrace, Upper Holloway,. immediately opposite Mr. Grafton's late residence—he lived there in 1875 and I used to supply him with bread—this "F. G." on this note is my writing—that is the way I put the name of the person from whom I received the note.

Cross-examined. I got it from Mr. Grafton—I do not know who brought it to me—I do not say that Mr. Grafton did, but in consequence of what the prisoner said I put Grafton upon it.

JOHN BASSETT (Re-examined). In September, 1874, the company had transactions with Lindre and Co. of Bristol, and an invoice was sent to them for goods amounting to 60l.—on Jan. 9, 1875. I received from them a letter enclosing this cheque (produced) for 59l. 13s., which I handed to Mr. Grafton, and here is the book with his signature for it.

Cross-examined. This book is kept at the Deptford works—in it all money which comes there is entered as having been received by Bunnett and Co.—it is headed "Accounts received at New Cross Works," and in it are entered all cheques received—this number is the page of Lindre's order in our order book—in the first week in the year only two cheques were

paid in—in the next week there are three more—the object of putting" 459" is to trace the order—anybody looking at the book could immediately tell that Grafton had received a cheque from us—he only received from us the amounts contained in the book, nor from anybody in 1875—these are all the cheques he received in 1874 from me, and he received none from anybody else at that date—I enter them in a book and get him to sign them.

Re-examined. I entered the. cheque here, and it has Mr. Grafton's writing on the back of it—I keep the book for my personal protection, but it has been occasionally sent to Queen Street, as a record of moneys received at New Cross works—Evans was a bookkeeper at Queen Street—when Mr. Grafton took these cheques from me he would take them to Queen Street, and enter them in the cash-book I suppose, and he ought to have entered the name of the person from whom they were received—he had already given a receipt upon it—this "59l. 13s., 14l. 17s. 6d., and 7l. 6s.," at the back of the cheque, are Grafton's writing; they are added up, and come to a total of 81l. 6s. 6d.—this is Bunnett and Co.'s rough cash-book, in which I find that Mr. Grafton, in his own writing, has credited himself as paying in 81l. 6s. 6d.—as far as I can see that is the only way in which that cheque is entered; it would have been entered on 14th January, and I gave it to him about the 9th.

GEORGE HKNRY GODWIN (Re-examined). I produce Bunnett and Co.'s rough cash-book; there is no credit to Lindre in it for 59l. 13s., but Mr. Grafton is credited with 81l. 6s. 6d. on 14th January, 1875, which is made up of three sums, as shown on the back of the cheque—the index tells me that Lindre's account is at folio 256, and on looking for that folio in the ledger I find that there are no pages from 253 to 258; they are gone, and I find no account of Lindre's there, and I have looked all through the book—the account book manufacturer numbered the pages.

By the JURY. The leaves must have been out at the time of ordering, but we did not discover it at the time that entry was made; the pages must have been there, because the entries have been ticked—the audit of the ledger for that year is not here, but the entries are ticked; it appears we have built the ledger up since—the only proof we have of the accuracy of the books is that both sides balance from the index we go to the ledger, and find all the accounts that are missing in it, the only one which has a balance on it is this one—the transaction is carried out in the journal, and that proves that I have seen it in the ledger; you may take it from me for the moment, but I cannot prove it to-day—I did not put on one side all that had been received, and on the other all that was still owing—I took the balances only, and my balances were wrong, and I never could absolutely correct them, though I went through them several times to try.

Cross-examined. Lindre's cheque is dated January, 1875—I should see the entry of that in this cash-book (produced)—when I said that it was entered in the journal, and ticked, I was speaking of the sales—I ticked an entry in the journal which is not here; it is a very old book, and was not thought to be wanted—I go through the ledger myself every year—I did so that year, and I prove it by my ticks in the journal which is not here, and the ledger will prove it too—whatever entry is in the. journal would be posted into the ledger—the journal you call for is, I think, in the writing of Stephenson—I discovered this hiatus in the ledger within the last two or three months, just after the case before the Magistrate was closed; Mr.

Clark was not present—I never saw Mr. Evans; Mr. Stephenson left long ago—if a cheque of this kind came in it was the bookkeeper's duty to give credit for it—I do not see why he should debit Mr. Grafton with this cheque, it is a receipt—I do not know that Grafton showed this very cheque to Mr. Clark—you assume that I know more about the details than I do; the greater part of my auditing was done in the evening, so that I was not cognisant of the business done in the day—I still audit Clark and Co.'s books, but I cannot audit Bunnett's, being secretary—the prisoner wag secretary and manager—I do not get extra pay at present, but I hope to—I have been secretary since Mr. Grafton's dismissal at the beginning of March, 1878; he came to the premises once since that, in March or April, 1878, with his son who was a clerk in the Queen Street office before the dispute arose: he was not a bookkeeper.

Re-examined. Mr. Grafton would not have entered in his own writing, "F. Grafton 81l. 6s. 6d." if he intended to be debited with that amount, that shows that he wished to be credited with it; he put it down as a payment by himself, and it was the bookkeeper's duty to credit him with the amount, and I think he has done so—he gets the benefit at the end of the year of having paid in his own money to the amount of 81l. 6s. 6d.—Richard Farr was the bookkeeper—there are two more entries by Grafton, which the preceding witnesses have mentioned—the natural result of this being entered up is that he would get credit for it, and it would go to his account—when Grafton was dismissed his son left; he stopped away from his duties—a petty cash-book was taken away during my absence at the lawyer's—our books were locked up in the safe, which was unlocked by young Mr. Grafton to take out something belonging to him, and when I came back from the solicitor's they were gone, and the banker's pass-book was obtained from the bank.

HENRY MILLER (Re-examined). Among other sums paid into the bank on 14th January, 1875, to Bunnett and Co.'s credit' was a cheque for 59l. 13s.—in the paying-in slip no amount of 81l. 6s. 6d. appears, but there are three cheques which will make that sum.

Cross-examined. 59l. 13s. is down here, that was paid in to the account of Bunnett and Co.—that would not come to the attention of the auditor in any way, because the company would be credited with the whole amount.

THOMAS MAWBY . I am bookkeeper to Messrs. Clark and Co., and was formerly in the employ of Bunnett and Co.—the advertisements of both firms were by arrangement paid for by Bunnett and Co.—that is what is called the Times column—this cheque of 11th January, 1876, for 24l. 12s., "Pay advertisements or bearer," has been altered from "Order" to "Bearer"—it is in Grafton's writing; I have the counterfoil here, likewise in his writing—the cheque is stamped "London and County Bank, Deptford."

Cross-examined. The name of Mills on the counterfoil refers to an Advertising agent, of whom Bunnett ordered advertisements to be inserted in the Times, and we employed him for both firms—in point of fact Clark ought to be made pay a part of the advertisements—Bunnett sent out no circulars the two years that I was there—I have known the name of Messrs. J. Marshall since I have been at Clark's—there was some distinction as to Clark or Bunnett having the top of the Times—"Advertisement or order "is nonsense—I did not complain at the time the cheque came before

me—I entered it in this cash-book (produced)—I find it would not hare come before me at all—there is an entry here "Paid by Johnson"—this cheque is written by Grafton. (The witness here fainted; and his cross-examination was postponed.)

GEORGE EDWIN GODWIN (Re-examined). This cheque of 11th January, 1876, is in Grafton's writing—I produce two paying-in slips, one in Grafton's writing and one in Fair's, who was a clerk at the time—the total is 572l. 5s. 10d., including 46l. 6s. 2d. in cash—I have seen no amount in it of 24l. 12s. 2d.—there is an alteration in pencil of specie 467. 6s. 2d. to 15l. 14s. 2d.—I believe it to be Grafton's writing.

Cross-examined. I do not know that Grafton frequently used money that was paid into the firm and afterwards repaid it by cheque—the 24l. 12s. was paid in to the credit of Bunnett and Co., Limited—"Bunnett and Co., Limited," is Grafton's writing, and "15th January, 1876," is Farr's—there is a marked distinction I should say—the pencil figures are Mr. Grafton's—Farr went to the Cape of Good Hope, and a neighbour of his represents that he is killed—he would be cashier at that time—these paying-in slips are in his writing—one of them I found in Bunnett's office, by accident—I will not swear that it was not in the paying-in book—I found it last year—I believe they were both produced before the Magistrate—the one that is half cut up is produced by the bank—I have compared them and drawn my inference—they speak for themselves.

Re-examined. The paying-in slip should have a counterfoil—the whole of the slips would go to the bank and there would be nothing but the counterfoils left—I cannot remember whether I found the paying-in slip in the counterfoil book—I find on looking at Mr. Mills's account in Bunnett and Co.'s book there was due to Mr. Wills from Bunnett and Co., for advertising, 37l. 10s., on 31st December, 1877—I find a cheque drawn to Wills on 24th December for that sum; the account is called "Times," Wills's ledger account, Wills being tie agent for the Times, and the counterfoil of the cheque is drawn payable to him, 37l. 10s.—on the back of the cheque is "F. Grafton" and "W. M. Wills"—the usual mode of paying Mr. Wills was by a three months' bill—I produce a bill dated 31st December, 1877, for 37l. 10s., drawn by Wills on Bunnett and Co., and duly accepted—there are not two accounts for 37l. 10s. to Wills in the books at that time, nor was there any other sum owing to him but this 37l. 10s.—there is no entry of repayment by Mr. Grafton of that sum.

By MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Wills's name does not appear on the cheque—"Frederick Grafton" is in Grafton's writing, and "Wills" is in Ernest Grafton's writing—we have since found out that there was a great deal of advertising in the Times not done through Mills.

By MR. GRANTHAM. The suggestion that Grafton made any payments is new to me—in Bunnett's rough cash-book, in September, 1877, I find a sum of 538l. 16s. 5d. made up of various items—amongst them I find a cheque for 46l. 18s. 11d.—"F. G., Esq., "I should say that is in Mr. Ernest Grafton's writing—"Exchange on 2nd July, 1877, Pay Mr. Wills or bearer 46l. 18s. 11d."—drawn by Clark and Co., and endorsed "Times column share"—I find another cheque for exactly the same amount, drawn by Bunnett and Co., in Grafton's writing, dated October: 29th, 1877, "Pay exchange or order 46l. 18s. 11d." signed by F. Grafton, secretary, as usual—the cheque of July 2nd was paid into the bank on 1st October—at that

time no such amount as 46l. 18s. 11d. was due to Wills from Bunnett and Co. or Clark and Co.—he had a regular monthly account which was settled with Bunnett and Co.—in Bunnett's books I find no credit entry at all at any time of an amount of 46l. 18s. 11d.—there is 1877, March 5, 34l. 6s.; May 3, 40l. 4s.; June 30, 38l. 1s. 2d.; August 27, 39l. 12s.; October 31, 38l. 8s.; and December 31, 37l. 10s., and they were duly discharged—they advertised regularly at that time—there is what is called the engineers' column of the Times, which Mr. Wills farms, and the names appear in it, and do now, and have for a long time—they take a part of it, and pay according to the space required, sometimes it is 60s., 70s., or 75s.—that accounts for the difference of amounts—the cheque of 29th October was paid into the bank on 3rd November, and is stamped "London and County Bank, Holborn."

Cross-examined. "Fred. Grafton" written on the back of this cheque for 46l. 18s. 11d. is Grafton's writing—the counterfoil of June cheque for 28l. has on it, "Advertising, 28l."—that is in Bunnett and Co.'s account, and is in Graf ton's writing—I do not know Mrs. Marshall, or that she is a sister of Mr. Clark's, or that she was employed in directing circulars for the firm—this cheque of June 30th' is payable to Mrs. Marshall, and is drawn by Grafton on the London and County Bank, High Holborn—"Bunnett's circulars," endorsed by J. Marshall—it is a lady's writing—this is another cheque drawn by F. Grafton on the London and County Bank, High Holborn, dated October 16, 1877, payable to Mrs. Marshall, for 5l., endorsed "J. Marshall, 15, Sussex Road"—"Bunnett's circulars" is written in red ink—it is a private cheque of Mr. Graf ton's—this receipt is "Mr. J. Grafton, for Bunnett and Co., to J. Marshall, to folding, posting, and directing circulars, 19,000 at 10s., 9l. 10d.; by cheque, October 16th, 51.; November 1st, cash, 4l. 10s.; J. Marshall, November 1st, 1877"—I audited both Bunnett's and Clark's accounts; I never came across payments to Mrs. Marshall to my knowledge—that invoice is in a lady's writing—I produce a cheque for 10l. and cash 4l. 10s. received by her—supposing Grafton had paid for the posting of circulars 20l. 16s. 8d. and 39l. 11s. 8d., and stamps 7d., that together with the 14l. 10s. would make exactly the amount of the two cheques for 28l. and 46l. 18s. 11d.

Re-examined. The book that Serjeant Parry refuses to show you looks like a private ledger, which I made up every year, and in which I arranged for Mr. Grafton's private account, and which was before the Magistrate while the inquiry was going on—that was the book I referred to on Monday and Tuesday in giving evidence—there is nothing else in red ink but "Bunnett's circulars"—I could not say whether "Bunnett' 3 circulars "was written at the same time as the rest of the cheque—in Mr. Bunnett's fair cash book for June 30th I find nothing except "Pay cash, 5l."—I find no entry in Bunnett's books of Mrs. Marshall being engaged in folding and pasting circulars—I find an entry in the cash book of June 28th, "Advertising per F. Grafton, 28l."—that appears to have been paid to the debit of the advertising account in the ledger—the red ink is Grafton's writing.

WILLIAM MILES WILLS . I am as advertising agent, of King William Street—I had transactions with Bunnett and Co. for a number of years—I have always been paid by them until lately—since 11th July, 1877, I have been paid by acceptance—the cheques for 24l. 12s., 46l. 18s. 11d., and 37l. 10s. have never been paid to me—the date of the acceptance is 31st December, 1877—that covered everything and balanced the account.

CHARLES HENRY GARLAND (Re-examined). The cheque of 24th December, 37l. 10s., endorsed "W. M. Miles," was paid into my bank to the private account of Frederick Grafton; also the cheque dated 29th October.

Cross-examined. Before the case was opened before the Magistrate Mr. Clark said to me that if Mr. Grafton wrote him a letter saying he had robbed him he would forego the prosecution, and I communicated the offer to Grafton—I intervened as a mutual friend, and saw Mr. Clark at his house on Sunday afternoon—that was the result of my interview with him, and I saw Grafton the same evening.

Re-examined. I was not discussing anything with Serjeant Parry after I left the box—I was asked if I recollected the result of my interview with Mr. Clark.

GEORGE MICHAEL DIBDEN . I was manager to Messrs. Fase and Co., jewellers, in Oxford Street—I am now in business for myself—in October, 1876, we had in one window a pair of diamond ear-drops worth something over 100l.—Grafton came in—I showed them to him; he offered 100l. cash for them, which was accepted, and I went to Clark and Co.'s office and received this cheque for them within an hour or so, from Grafton—it is signed "Clark and Co."—some remark was then made about the value of a ring that he had on his finger, and I believe I told him the value—I forget what he said he gave for it—he said that he bought it for himself, and that he had bought the ear-rings to give to Mrs. Grafton as a sort of quid pro quo.

Cross-examined. It was to the effect that his wife thought if he could afford to buy himself a ring he could afford to give her something—I cannot remember the exact words—it was a valuable ring—I cannot say now what the value was—Mr. Fase's shop is next door but one from Bathbone Place, dose to where they carry on the revolving shutter business—Grafton told me if I would go round to Clark and Co.'s he would give me the money—there might have been a clerk present at Clark's—we do not deal with them for our shutters—the cheque is payable to Mr. Fase's order—I knew nothing about his sister marrying Mr. Clark—I believe he had not dealt there before.

GEORGE EDWIN GODWIN (Re-examined). I produce Clark and Co's ledger and the counterfoil cheque-book—on the counterfoil of October 6, 1876, I find a very indistinct word, which looks like "Fards;" it may be "Fase," or "Fate" or "Fard"—it is afterwards struck through; it is Johnson's writing—he was bookkeeper then, and wrote the whole of the cheques—the cheque not being in his writing would probably show that it was filled up in the private room first—I have heard the evidence of a preceding witness that the interview took place in a private room—that is all I know—the cheque is in Grafton's writing—he is not debited with that 100l.

Cross-examined. Clark is charged on October 6,"Fate 100l."—this is the cash-book—I have handed you the private account in the ledger—the entry' is made by Johnson, the bookkeeper.

Re-examined. I should read the body of the cheque as "Fate"—I have not the slightest ill-feeling towards the defendant—I come here in my professional capacity to give evidence; nothing more or less—I should be very sorry to have it thought otherwise.

EDMUND TAYLOR (Re-examined). Messes. Clark and Co. were in the habit of dealing with Messrs. Shipman and Co. for springs—they used to send invoices charging for the goods delivered in two items, and they were paid for

by the acceptances of Clark and Co.—after the defendant left I found this cheque for 29l. 11s. 9d. in a drawer in his office.

Cross-examined. It was in a table drawer in Bunnett and Co.'s office at New Cross—I do not think I was asked about this cheque for 70l. 10s. at the police-court.

Re-examined. This appears to be the counterfoil of the cheque for 29l. 11s. 9d.—it is in Grafton's writing—it is "June 21, 1877. To Shipman, 789 springs at 9d. to May 19, 29l. 11s. 9d."—it does not say whether they were supplied to Bunnett or to Clark—it was what one might call a loose cheque among some other papers.

GEORGE WALL (Re-examined). I was a partner in the firm of Shipman and Co., of Sheffield—they have had dealings with Messrs. Clark for three years—the goods used to be invoiced to Clark, and sent by railway to Bunnett and Co.—we were paid by Clark's acceptance, and had no dealings with Bunnett and Co.—these cheques of 29l. 11s. 9d. 16l. 12s., 71.18s., and and 16l. 7s. 9d. were not paid to us.

Cross-examined. All these cheques are drawn in the name of Bunnett and Co., Limited, "Frederick Grafton"—they amount to 70l. 9s. 6d.

CHARLES HENRY GARLAND (Re-examined) I should say the endorsement on this cheque for 70l. 10s. is in Mr. Clark's writing decidedly—I am familiar with Mr. Clark's writing—it is an exceedingly difficult signature in consequence of his writing with his left hand—I cannot tell you how often Clark's cheques passed through our bank—he had a small private account, with which there were very few transactions—I have had letters from him, and I think I have also had his signature to other documents—I cannot tell you how many memoranda of deposit I have had—I did not see all the cheques that came to us—no man on earth could answer the question of how many of Clark's signatures I may have seen—there were very few cheques drawn by Mr. Alexander Clark himself, but I have his signature here (produced)—I think I have seen twenty of his signatures—Mr. Clark was not paralysed for two years after I knew him—since his paralytic seizure he has operated very little on his own account.

By MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Both these letters are addressed to me, one personally and the other as "the manager"—these two signatures are Mr. Clark's, to the best of my belief—I cannot say anything stronger—I should think this was a bad signature of his.

EDMUND TAYLOR (Re-examined). I do not believe the cheque for 70l. 10s. was found amongst the papers of Clark and Co. or Bunnett and Co.—I believe it was produced before the Magistrate from Grafton's possession by Mr. Lewis—I do not recollect whether any other cheque was so produced—this cheque of February, 1878, was, I believe, produced for the purpose of comparing signatures—on the counterfoil of the cheque for 70l. 10s. there is, 10th November, 1877, payable to "exchange," and the amount is blank—it is in Mawby's handwriting—I believe there is no entry of any such cheque to be found in the books—I have seen some hundreds of signatures of Mr. Clark's since he has been paralysed and before—in my opinion the 70l. 10s. cheque is not signed by Clark—until it was produced by Mr. Grafton before the Magistrate I had never seen or heard of it.

Cross-examined. I have seen Clark write his signature standing, hut generally sitting—he generally holds the paper himself—sometimes I have put my hand on it—I believe the endorsement on the 1,000l. cheque

is his writing, and the 1,500l. cheque is, in my opinion, a genuine signature—the signature to this paper, in French, I should say was a doubtful one—"Clark" is signed much larger than he generally signs—I should not like to say positively—I don't know that there is a press copy of that in the letter-book of the firm—I do not understand French—that is the only doubtful signature that has been submitted to me—he does not sign so as to make me doubt his signature as a rule—the "Alexander" I should say is genuine, but the "Clark" is doubtful—the signature to this letter, authorising Mr. Ullman to treat for some shutters, I should say is genuine—they got the order and supplied them—Ullman was our agent at that time—he was discharged.

Re-examined. I have never seen that before to the best of my belief—I have never seen Clark write so large—he writes in a peculiar manner—Ullman applied for authority to treat and was refused—he has been prosecuted in Paris.

THOMAS MAWBY (Re-examined). In August, 1877, the defendant brought me a slip of paper with certain items and amounts on it, and told me to take them down on another piece of paper, and that I was to credit Shipman and Co. for these items, as they were springs supplied from Shipman to Bunnett and Co.—I did so—the four cheques referred to, which Mr. Shipman says were not paid to him, were drawn previously, and I had already carried them and debited them to Shipman's account, and these credits which Grafton brought me were to complete the account and close it—in the cheque for 29l. 11s. 9d. "order" is struck out and "bearer" put in, and the alteration is initialled "F. G."

Cross-examined. Grafton did not call my attention to the cheques—they had nothing to do with liabilities between the two firms—the springs were ordered by Clark and sent to Bunnett by Clark's orders and debited to Clark, and the account was settled by Clark, and Bunnett would pay Clark on account, but that had nothing to do with this—I was examined at the police-court in respect of this cheque for 70l. 10s.—I said then I believed it to be the handwriting of Clark—I have since heard to the contrary—it is scarcely possible for me to judge it by the same mind now as then—from the mere writing I should say it was—if the endorsement is in Mr. Clark's writing it would indicate that he knew of the transaction.

Re-examined. The date of it being in my writing shows that I knew something about it—I was asked if I knew anything about it—I said, "No, he must have obtained that cheque from me in the name of exchange," there being an exchange cheque every week when I was at Clark's for the convenience of paying the wages at New Cross—it was not carried into account at all—I have not seen Clark write very frequently; he wrote with his left hand.

EDMUND TAYLOR (Re-examined). Mr. Clark wrote in this way, so that—his signatures all tended to a straight line, and if there were any curve at all it must be an outward curve by means of the action of the wrist—the loop of the a is formed after the complete o; that is unusual—he never lifts his pen in the signature—if you compare this you will see the loop is separate.

ALEXANDER PEBBLES . I am an architect, of Salter's Hall Court—about May, 1877, I had a private account against Mr. Clark for work done; it was a good deal more than 400l.—about 1st May, I cannot fix the date, Grafton

called on me and tendered 250l., which I refused to accept—in December of the same year Grafton called upon me again, and gave me a cheque of his own for 400l., which I accepted—this is my receipt.

Cross-examined. I have known Grafton about 16 or 18 years as a man of integrity and honesty—the cheque was paid into my bankers, and I have not seen it since—this is it (produced)—I furnished him with paper to write it, and then I gave him a receipt in rather a peculiar way to meet the circumstances of the case—there was a considerable dispute about the amount, but eventually I received the 400l., though under protest I may say—the receipt explains. (Read: "Received from Alexander Clark, Esq., from Mr. F. Grafton, a cheque value 400l., which is accepted in settlement of my claim for services and costs in respect of works at Tallow House, in order to avoid any further cause of unpleasantness as between two old friends.—Alexander Peebles, 6th December, 1877.")

Re-examined. I felt Mr. Clark had not behaved as he should have, but to end any further unpleasantness I took that—I have known Grafton as Mr. Clark's representative.

THOMAS MAWBY (Re-examined). I produce a cheque drawn by Grafton on Bunnett and Co. in favour of Alexander Clark, dated 1st May, 1877, for 250l.—I took my instructions from the counterfoil—it is "Payable to Alexander Clark for Peebles," which meant it was payable to Peebles and to be charged to Alexander Clark's private account—I afterwards entered it in the ledger to his private account with Bunnett and Co.—after the cheque for 250l. was drawn I left Bunnett's and went to Clark's as book-keeper—Grafton told me in December that he had paid Peebles by a cheque of his own 400l., and that now he had drawn a cheque to repay himself, so that that 400l. was to be charged to Mr. Clark's private account—this is the cheque with which Mr. Grafton repays himself the 400l., dated "6th December, 1877. Pay Mr. Grafton or bearer 400l. Clark and Co."—I debited that to Mr. Clark's private account—the cheque for 250l. first obtained in May by Grafton was never returned or accounted for by him.

Cross-examined. It was cashed in order to make a legal tender to Peebles, which he refused—the money would, I suppose, be put in the cash-box—the 400l. cheque is drawn on Grafton's private account—this letter to Mr. Godwin is in Grafton's handwriting, and is dated 29th March. (Read: "Dear Sir,—I am in receipt of your statement and find that you have omitted to debit me with a cheque," &c.) I don't think I have seen it before—this letter of the 30th March is in two handwritings—I believe "Frederick Grafton" to be his signature. (Read: "Dear Sir,—On again going through the cash account I find several mistakes, for and against me; for instance, you have omitted the spring account," &c.) I should say that is Grafton's writing—that is addressed to Mr. Clark.

HENRY MILLER (Re-examined). For the cheque for 250l. of May 1, 1877, I gave a 200l. note, No. 79140, dated 29th January, 1876, and one 50l. note, No. 96772, dated 27th April, 1876.

CHARLES HENRY GARLAND (Re-examined). The notes in question appear to have been paid in on 3rd May, 1877, to the private account of Frederick Grafton.

GEORGE EDWIN GODWIN (Re-examined). The balances to the credit of Grafton at the end of the three years 1875, 1876, and 1877 were respectively 221l. 1s. 2d., 106l. 5s. 5d., and 108l. 12s. 8d.—the amounts owing by him

I between would represent about 1,100l.—namely, 1875, 386l.; 1876, 218l.; and 1877, 499l.—there are other small matters of deficiencies amounting to 500l. or 600l.

Cross-examined. I prepared a statement of the amount due by Mr. Grafton to both firms—the amounts I have mentioned represent the cases we have been going into here without regard to anything else—I do not know the terms of the arbitration'—I believe all the cases were not before the Magistrate.

Re-examined. Fase's case was not known, or Luckhurst's, Hardwick's, or Landrier's.

ALEXANDER CLARK . I am the prosecutor—Grafton had been for many years in my service—I had great confidence in him, and the last few yean I left things entirely in his hands—I was paralysed about 10 years ago, since which time I have not been able to use my right hand—for some time I was much worse than I am now—I was obliged to abstain from business, and I gave Grafton a power of attorney—during the years 1875, 1876, and 1877 my private accounts were sent to me, at which time I had no reason to doubt Grafton's honesty, and I never investigated the accounts; the accounts which have been referred to were left in the hands of the accounttants—the errors are not what I discovered myself—my attention was drawn to them in 1878—Grafton had no authority to use money as he is shown to have done by placing these various things to his private account—I never authorised him to purchase diamond earrings—this cheque for 70l. 10s. was not endorsed by me—Grafton never asked me for that amount, nor was my attention ever drawn to it until it was produced before the I Magistrate.

Cross-examined. When I have been short of cash I may have asked Grafton for 5l., and he has written a cheque for the amount—he has never given me cash—I never borrowed a bag or anything of the kind to put money in—I borrowed a bag once of Mr. Bassett to take up my rents—on one occasion I may have got as much as 20,000l. from the two businesses about four years ago, while Grafton was in my employ—I was examined at the police-court—I did not remember my endorsement on this cheque for 1,500l., because it was folded up—afterwards I recognised the cheque—it was paid into my private account—I think this is my signature—the signature to the 70l. 10s. cheque was disputed—I heard Mr. Garland say it was my signature—I believe it to be my writing—I did not hear Mr. Johnson say that it was my handwriting or Mr. Mawby; I heard Mr. Garland say they did not think it was my handwriting—I do not know that I said, before the summons was heard, to Mr. Garland that if Mr. Grafton would write me a letter saying that he had robbed me I would forego the prosecution—I have not heard Mr. Garland swear that to-day—I think I can swear I did not say it—I had not a warrant issued in this case—Mr. Wontner acted for me—there was a warrant issued, but not by my wish—I did not send my son-in-law to Mr. Barron to warn Mr. Grafton that a warrant was issued against him, and that he had better get out of the way—Mr. Barron went to him a few days after but he did not tell me that he had suggested to Grafton that he should get out of the way—I know that Grafton would not attend to the Magistrate's recommendations—he made an apology, such as it was—I am carrying on my business now, both Bunnett's and Clark's—the Magistrate did not dismiss the summons while I was there—he only said he did not think a Jury would convict—I do not know whether he dismissed it or

not, I was not in Court that day at all—I was examined before the Grand Jury—I do not know that I went before them because the Magistrate refused to commit—Mrs. J. Marshall is Grafton's sister, my late wife's sister—I married a Miss Grafton; she died on the 30th June twelvemonth—I have never employed Mrs. Marshall to direct circulars—I know she was employed; I did not employ her—I do not remember the issue of this circular (produced)—everything of that sort I left to Grafton—I believe circulars were issued for Clark and Co., besides advertising in the Times and other newspapers—I obtained a medal in Paris last year, and the former year, about which circulars wore issued—I swear the signature on the 70l. 10s. cheque is not mine, because it is not straight—I should know Mrs. Marshall's signature; I have seen it several times—the writing on this receipt is like hers—I have seen her about half a dozen times the last few years—the signature does not look like hers; the body of the document is—I do not remember her receiving the money.

Re-examined. I had nothing to do with the mechanical part of my business—I have no mechanical knowledge—I thought the signature to the 1,500l. cheque was mine at first, and looking at it again I am sure of it—at the time of the first inquiry before the Magistrate my wife was very ill indeed, and so was I, and I left the matter in the hands of Mr. Wontner—I allow Mrs. Marshall so much a week.

CHARLES CHABOT . I have had great experience in testing handwriting—I have seen this bundle of cheques—to the best of my belief the endorsement on the 70l. 10s. cheque is not in the same handwriting as the one for 1,600l.—the formation of the letter "A" on the cheque seems to be completely misunderstood by the person who wrote it—Mr. Clark invariably forms his capital letter "A" by a single operation of the pen; that is he crosses it with, the same operation, forming a loop in the middle—in this signature the crossing of the "A." is a ring made by itself independently by a separate operation of the pen—the "a" of "Clark" in the signature of the cheque for 70l. 10s. is formed by a combination of the letter "e" and the letter "i"—the common mode of forming the letter "a" is to join it to the next letter preceding it; but in this instance the "e" portion is very plainly formed, very deliberately formed, and stands by itself disconnected from the "i" portion, and very unlike any instances of the genuine signatures—then the "r" of "Clark" is connected with the "k" by an upstroke taken from the bottom of the "r"—the formation of the "r" is on a different principle to that in use by Mr. Clark—then the "k" is unlike—those are the principal reasons except this, the signature inclines rather more upwards than Mr. Clark's.

Cross-examined. I was not examined before the Magistrate—I examined a number of signatures at Marlborough Street three or four months ago—I had then formed an opinion, which I communicated to my client—I was about to be called as a witness—I was present, but not called—I do not know that both Judges and Juries have very often disagreed with me—I have sworn to handwriting, and the verdict has been found the other way—I do not know about frequently—I think I may have once before given evidence on paralytic handwriting—I cannot recollect the case, but I know I have had cases of quite as much decrepitude as in this handwriting—I have before given evidence on the handwriting of a person who wrote with his left hand, not a paralysed man—now you bring it to my memory, I think the last occasion was in the Probate Court—the lady was paralysed if I remember—I should think I have not before given evidence on the writing of a parapaid

lysed man who wrote with his left hand—it is a very difficult thing, and he would write in a very odd manner—I have known an instance of a correspondent of mine who became paralysed, and took to write with his left hand; he wrote with very great difficulty at first, and then it got better and better—the endorsement on the 1,500l. cheque is Clark's—I should not know it in a moment—I think Clark might doubt many of his own signatures—I have tried to find out the handwriting of "Junius"—I must leave other 'people to decide whether I have—there is a marked difference between the writing on the 1,500l. and the 70l. 10s. cheque—the "r" on the former is like the "r "Clark makes in the majority of instances—if I had to form my judgment on the materials provided as to the 70l. 10s. cheque, I should say 1 could offer no objection to its being a genuine signature—the "r "is joined to the "k "from the upper part of the "r" with this difference, that the pen has been taken from the bottom of the "r," but there the pen has been lifted and taken to the top of the "r"—the pen touches there—if you examine that with a magnifying glass you will see three distinct commencements and endings—it is my belief that one signature has been copied from the other—I have no objection to the signature on Ullman's paper—I believe it to be genuine.

Re-examined. I have not known Judges disagree with me.

BLANCHARD WONTNER . I am a solicitor, and was instructed by Messrs. Renshaw to take up this case so far as the criminal proceedings were concerned, and it came on at the police-court—on the first two occasions a strange Magistrate was sitting, and as it was understood that this case would take a considerable time, it was postponed, that the ordinary Magistrate, Mr. Newton, should attend, and then some discussion took place—on the third occasion it was pressed very much by Mr. Lewis that these two gentlemen being brothers-in-law, and Mr. Clark's wife being very ill indeed at the time, that it was a matter of accounts and ought to go to arbitration—I may say also in the presence of the defendant that a gentleman named Barron was there, Mr. Clark's son-in law, and he was most anxious about the matter and pressed very hard on Mr. Clark with reference to it—two certificates were produced, one from Sir William Jenner, and one from Dr. Barnskill, stating that it was positively dangerous for Mr. Clark to go into the witness-box—as the result of this Mr. Newton yielded to the pressure—Mr. Taylor had been called, and only a few lines had been taken from him, just enough for the first remand—he was cross-examined—Mr. Clark came to the Court, and his consent was given—I should say Mr. Clark really moved very little in the matter, everything was done by Mr. Barron, and it was agreed to—an agreement for reference was drawn up in Court by Mr. Lewis, and Mr. Barron signed it for Mr. Clark—I was not concerned in the reference, I handed it over to Mr. Renshaw then, as it became a civil matter, and I had nothing further to do with it—that was in April, 1878—the matter came back to me at the end of October or the beginning of November—it was brought back by Mr. Renshaw—I wrote some letters to Mr. Lewis, and we had some correspondence, with a view to seeing if we could make things smooth—I was in the hope of mediating between the parties—the negotiations did not succeed, so I went back to Mr. Newton, and applied to be put in the same position as we were before, and thereupon he granted a summons—by this time I had found that there were other cases which I was not aware of at the time of the first application.

Cross-examined. All the cases except that of Landrier were contained in

these seven indictments—I originally applied to the Magistrate for a warrant—I told my client I was going to apply for it—I did not know that Grafton lived in the house he occupied for many years—it is not always my course to apply for a warrant, but I will tell you why I did if you like—the terms of the arrangements were: "A general apology to be signed by Mr. Grafton for irregularities in keeping the accounts or in the conduct of the business during the time he was in Mr. Clark's service; Mr. Grafton to make good any deficiencies that might be discovered in the cash, and to undertake, with one guarantor, Mr. G. P. Turner, not to disclose any matter connected with Mr. Clark's business or interfere with the same, under a penalty of 500l.; Mr. Clark to withdraw from present proceedings; the agreement with Mr. Taylor to be given up and cancelled"—that is the agreement relating to the transfer of the business from Grafton to Taylor—"Mr. James Waddell to be made the arbitrator," &c.—it is signed "Frederick Grafton," and then underneath, "For Alexander Clark, Walter Barron"—I think no agreement was drawn up at the police-court on that occasion—this is the agreement of reference signed by Frederick Grafton—this is a duplicate signed by Mr. Clark and Mr. Renshaw, dated 22nd May, 1878 (produced)—after that a deed of covenant was entered into, in which Mr. Turner became responsible for Mr. Grafton to the extent of 500l.—I have not got it here.

Re-examined. I was perfectly ready to go on with the arbitration at that time if Mr. Lewis would have done so—I know that in October, when they refused to go on with the arbitration, Mr. Lewis issued an action against Mr. Clark for malicious prosecution—on the renewed proceedings there was a summons, and then we went into a great number of cases, and the Magistrate finally dismissed the summons without giving any reason whatever—he pulled up very abruptly and said, "Is that all?" and then he said, "I dismiss the summons"—Mr. Lewis made a very long and able speech—we called Mr. Chabot, but the Magistrate said "Why do you call him? You had better call him on the trial"—and he said that Mr. Clark's denial was quite sufficient.

A. G. RENSHAW. I was instructed by Mr. Clark in the first instance, and I instructed Mr. Wontner to attend to the criminal part of this matter—up to that time I had been acting as the solicitor—I was aware of the suggested arbitration and also of Mr. Clark's state of health and that of his wife—I was not present at the time the agreement was drawn up, but I was made aware of it shortly after; and in pursuance of that I endeavoured for the next six months to carry out the arbitration, and endeavoured to arrange a meeting with the arbitrator and Mr. Lewis upon several occasions—I waited in town all the long vacation, I don't think a lawyer could do more—there was a long correspondence between us which speaks for itself—no time elapsed without being enlarged by the arbitrator—I sent down to Mr. Lewis very many times and tried to make arrangements, but some quibble was always made.

Cross-examined. Mr. Grantham and Mr. Gill were at the police-court instructed by Mr. Wontner—I left the matter entirely in Mr. Wontner's hands—Mr. George Lewis appeared for Grafton—an address was made and the summons was dismissed.

Witnesses for the Defence.

GEORGE HENRY LEWIS . I appeared as solicitor for Grafton before the

Magistrate—I have heard the documents read—the counsel for the prosecution had opened their case before the documents were executed—Mr. Wontner had suggested to the Magistrate that the prosecution consisted not only of Smith's case, but of other cases, amounting to about 1,000l., or 1,200l., and thereupon the case proceeded, and after some witnesses were called simply to prove formal evidence, and Mr. Taylor was partly cross-examined by me, and the circumstances were stated as to the cross accounts in this matter, it was suggested that this was not a case for a Criminal Court at all—with reference to Mr. Grafton's irregularities after 30 years' service it was suggested that if we could not account for any balance that might be due by him we should be prepared to pay them, but he declined to be made responsible, as the errors had arisen from bad book-keeping, and he was the victim of it—after one or two meetings it was finally arranged, and terms were agreed to, and an order of reference; and in addition Mr. Grafton was called upon to sign an apology for the errors in book-keeping—he absolutely refused, and said he would sooner the case should go on and be investigated by a Magistrate—this was stated in Court, and that the errors in bookkeeping would not have occurred if the books had been properly audited, and that the clerk had brought him into this position—thereupon the matter was left to the Magistrate upon Mr. Wontner giving the Magistrate the reason why he refused to sign the apology—the deed of reference expired on 30th June—I was perfectly ready and offered Mr. Renshaw to enter into a fresh agreement of reference—Mr. Grafton was perfectly prepared to deposit any sum of money for which he might be found liable—a dispute arose between Mr. Renshaw and myself—then I complained to Mr. Renshaw's clerk that Mr. Clark had said he would ruin Grafton if it cost him 10,000l.; so Grafton informed me, and I said, "Mr. Grafton declines to enter into any renewed agreement except it bears the date of the original agreement"—an attempt was made to get a new agreement but it failed, and then they threatened me again with the Marlborough Street Police-court—the Magistrate suggested that I and Mr. Wontner should attend before him, and then he suggested that the matter should go to reference—I consented to do so—it did not go to reference—they stood out to make Grafton liable for the lost reference, which arose from their own fault, and those terms were not agreed to, those were the main reasons why the second reference went off, and then in fifteen months they summoned Grafton up again to Marlborough Street Police-court—the Magistrate, I think, for ten days went into the case and dismissed the summons, and stated he did not believe any Jury would convict Mr. Grafton of fraud in such a case, and that it was stated in Mr. Grantham's presence—I swear every case was gone into except Landrier'a.

Cross-examined. I say distinctly that Mr. Newton said, "I shall dismiss this summons; I do not believe any Jury would ever convict Mr. Grafton of fraud"—I think everything appears in the correspondence—I should like the whole of it read.

GEORGE PEACOCK TURNER . I am an accountant, of 57, Gracechurch Street, and was for many years employed to audit the accounts of Clark and Co., which I did twice a year, June and December, and was assisted by the various clerks, if required—every month it was our duty, first, to check the cash with the cheques and rough cash book, and with the banker's book, to see that all the cash received had been paid in—half-yearly we checked the cheques with the receipts and vouchers appertaining thereto—there was a

file of papers, receipts, and invoices, and if they were not found we had a list made of the deficient receipts, or the deficient vouchers, and they were investigated; I sometimes applied to Mr. Grafton for that purpose—to take the vouchers and books as correct, without verifying them, would be a very imperfect audit indeed—I have been in Court during the conduct of this trial—I communicated either with Mr. Clark or with Mr. Grafton during the time I acted as auditor—I received every assistance from Mr. Grafton in relation to any cheques which were considered doubtful as business cheques—Mr. Grafton had a private account, as also had Mr. Clark, and I was in the habit of speaking to both of them in relation to their private accounts.

JAMES JOHNSON . I was in the service of Clark and Co., and also of Bunnett and Co.—in reality they were one firm—I was in Clark's service eight and a half years—I saw there was no prospect of my salary increasing, and as chance put a better situation in my way I took it, and left Clark's at the end of March, 1877—I went into the service of Brown and Co., 90, Cannon Street, and am there now—I remember an item of 146l. 8s. in respect of which I discovered an error—to the best of my recollection it was in March, 1877, just before I left—I discovered it through an act of Mr. Peck's, the solicitor at that time—I mentioned it to Mr. Godwin and to Mr. Taylor, who tendered the notes—he told me he had returned the notes to Mr. Grafton—I did not see Mr. Grafton for some time—before I saw him I saw Mr. Peck, the solicitor, and I challenged him about it, and he disclaimed having had the money twice—while we were speaking Mr. Clark came into the room and said, "What is all this about?"—"Oh," I said in a bantering sort of way, "it is only Mr. Peck, who has had the money twice to settle Smith's account"—it was only a joke; I did not intend or mean it—afterwards, when I found Mr. Grafton had really had the money, I pointed it out to him—he said, "Oh, you know what to do"—he did not seem very pleased—he meant I was to debit his account with the amount—it was never debited; I intended to debit it, but the books were not closed—it would be one of the last entries I should make—I was pressed very hard with work at the time—I kept all the books except the order book—each firm had a separate set of books—in Clark and Co.'s firm I was engaged as book-keeper—they had a rough cash book, a fair cash book, a debtors ledger, a creditors' ledger, a journal, sales book, and order book—I several times complained of my hard work—I was not the only one who complained—Grafton's and Clark's private accounts passed through the business books of the firm—the cheque for 136l., paid to Hards, Vaughan, and Co., is debited to Mr. Clark's private account, so that he would see that cheque and be able at once to detect if it were wrong—the cheque for 196l. 1s. debited also to Mr. Clark's private account—I do not remember whether the name was Luckhurst—Grafton knew that there was an auditor employed, and that the accounts were regularly audited—a 100l. cheque to Mr. Fase is entered in the books as "Mr. Fate," and it is entered to Mr. Clark's account erroneously—those are the only three entries in Mr. Clark's account that are complained of in this indictment—I don't recollect Grafton saying anything to me about drawing out Fase's cheque—I remember calling Mr. Clark's attention to one or two items which I said I did not know whether they were for him or not, and he said he would take the book home and look—in debiting those cheques to Mr. Clark's account I never received any order of any kind from Grafton to do so—it was simply an error which could easily have been detected if

the books had been properly audited—no charges were made against Mr. Grafton up to that time—they were errors which were found out and corrected—Mr. Clark was in the habit of passing all his private transactions through the business books—I knew that both firms made the same kind of shutter, and that they required the same springs—in 1876 I was authorised by Mr. Clark to go and assist in the evening at Bunnett and Co.'s in writing up their books—I remember a cheque for 25l. in Eadon's case, which is marked in pencil in the ledger—this writing may be mine; I write very like that when I write with a pencil—I cannot read what it is—I should take it to mean that they have evidently found in this credit account the amount of the claim, and I have put in the claim provisionally—the ink is my writing—in 1869 Mr. Clark had an attack of paralysis—I recollect him almost entirely himself again at the end of August of the same year—I know it by his purchasing an estate at Guildford, and another estate at Taplow, which he possesses now—he entered into several speculations—independent of my ter to Godwin Mr. Peck knew of this mistake about the 146l. cheque—at letter had nothing to do with it—during the eight and a half years that I was in Mr. Clark's employ I knew Grafton, and I always considered him to be a man of honour, honesty, and integrity—I thought he was rather erratic in his business transactions, that is, in keeping his cash book—no one dared to insinuate anything.

Cross-examined. I was employed under him—I was not always very friendly with him—he did his work in his own way—he was rather passionate at times—I found out the mistake in question just before I left, the end of March, 1877—my recollection is very good about the event—Grafton told me to put it right when I drew his attention to it—he did not tell me what had become of the 146l. 8s.—I knew that he had had the money—I did not know what he had done with it—the commission account took me the whole week before I left to work up—the 146l. was not debited to him through my neglect—I was so busily engaged—I knew there had been a cheque drawn for Peck for 151l. 8s.—I discovered the error as to the 146l. 8s. when I examined Peck's account, which would be about March, 1877—the entry opposite 10th August 1s. "August 10,151l. 8s. This cheque bears his" (i.e., Mr. Peck's, the solicitor's) "endorsement, but I cannot tell you what it is for"—it was not necessary for me to make any inquiry of Grafton—when Peck's account was rendered I in the natural course went into it—this is Peck's account (produced)—he has not put the date when he rendered it—the last item is in 1875—he would never render his account—I will prove to you by this letter that this identical account was not rendered at that date, September, 1876—G. Eadon's account in Bunnett's books is partly entered up by me—on one gave me instructions to enter it that I know of—all these entries in Clark's books, December, 1874, amounting to 93l. 3s. 5d., are in my writing—there was a separate invoice for this—the two last entries on the Dr. side are in my writing from the cash-bock, "Dr. to cash, 25l.; July 22, 1876, Dr. to cash, 18l. 12s. 5d.—I assume that those payments had been made in discharge of the account—these other amounts, Hard's and Vaughan's cheque, and cheque for deposit on land, and so on, I saw in the books, and entered them to Clark's private account—I don't think I entered Luckhurst's cheque for 96l., 23rd September, 1875.

(Referring to the book) Yes, this is mine.

Re-examined. I found this invoice of Bunnett and Co.'s when I was

making up the books—the year's balance was eight or nine months in arrear, and I found this invoice, G. Eadon for goods, and his voucher for payment of 25l. on account—I had no doubt therefore that the thing was correct, and I made the entry—Grafton was responsible for all the money, kept the cash, made payments, and signed cheques—I believe the endorsement on this 70l. 10s. cheque to be Clark's writing—I have held cheques for him to sign—I was almost the only person who saw him sign while I was there—he was paralysed a year after I was there.

By the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. If Grafton were there he would sign the cheques, and when Mr. Clark wanted money he would ask me to write it, and he signed it—that is his capital "A," undoubtedly—I gave the same opinion at the police-court—I did not see it written.

ERNEST GRAFTON . I am the defendant's son, and was in the service of Bunnett and Co. for two or three years; I left after my father was dismissed by Mr. Clark—I used to see Mr. Clark nearly every day—he used to call at Queen Street first where I was, and then he would go to New Cross—I think Bunnett's business was taken over by Clark in 1874; I was not there at the time—I have seen my father give my uncle, Mr. Clark, cash, both at Rathbone Place, at Queen Street, and New Cross—before I was employed at Queen Street I used to go and fetch my father in the evening, and wait for him in the office—I believe this cheque for 70l. 10s. to be in my uncle's writing—I used to pay the money into the bank at Deptford every Saturday that had accumulated in the week—I was examined at the police-court—I lent my uncle a bag in which I used so carry my money to New Cross—I cannot remember the exact date, but it was in 1877—Mr. Clark has frequently asked my father for money when he has been going to the seaside, and he has handed him 20l. or 30l. at a time—I have also given him money out of the cash-box at Queen Street—my father would sometimes take the money to give him out of the cash-box, and sometimes out of his pocket—he used to take circulars home, and send them to all parts of the kingdom—Mrs. J. Marshall is my aunt—we have sent her circulars in Bunnett's cart to direct—this receipt relating to 19000 is her writing; all these cheques, except one, are drawn by my father on his private account with the London and County Bank in favour of Mrs. Marshall, and are endorsed by her—some of these cheques are payable to Grafton, and some to F. Grafton; these two for 8l. 7s. each are payable to Mrs. Henry Grafton, Mr. Alexander Clark's sister—Mr. Clark allows her 8l. 7s. a month, I think—this cheque for the Times advertising I took out of the bank book, and seeing "Times advertising" on it I thought to direct the bookkeeper, and put "Wills "on the back of it, thinking it was for Wills—it was a mistake of mine—I believe my father paid for advertising out of his own pocket sometimes—I do not remember Landrier's cheque—I positively swear when I left that there was not a leaf missing from this ledger, and I can tell you what page Landrier's account occupied, because I was in the habit of going through the book two or three times a week—Landrier had never been applied to by me for his account—at the top of the page where the account appeared it said "Landrier. To goods 60l.," and on the opposite side in my father's writing there was "Grafton 59l." odd—I was there when Eadon and Shipman supplied goods—both our firms used springs—there was a sort of exchange or mutual account between them—it is only lately that Bunnett has made self-coiling shutters—there were two bookkeepers at Bunnett's, and I believe

they made up the books from the cheques and other vouchers—my father never touched the books—every shilling he received he paid into the bank; if he wanted any for his own use he would take it, I presume—I believe it was a registered Limited Company when I was there, but my uncle held all the shares—there was a certain number of shareholders in accordance with the Act of Parliament.

Cross-examined. That account was in the book up to the time it went out of my possession in March, 1878—I might say I was manager—I used to go out and see the architects and people—for a large amount Mr. Clark would sign a cheque when my father gave him money, but not for 5l. or 10l.—I cannot say therefore positively how these sums were repaid.

Re-examined. I was examined at the police-court—although I am intensely anxious about my father I have told the truth about the matters I have been questioned upon, I swear.


The JURY desired to add that they considered that the irregularities charged were due to bad book-keeping and imperfect auditing. There were six other similar indictments against the defendant, upon which no evidence was offered.


Reference Number: t18790630-624

624. MARY CRAWLEY (54) , Stealing a purse and 6s. 6d. of Jacob Berkhert, from the person of Georgina Emily Berkhert.

MR. D. METCALF Prosecuted.

GEORGINA BERKHERT . I am the wife of Jacob Berkhert, tailor, of 13, Newman Street, Goodman's Fields—at 11 a.m. on 27th June I was in Aldgate, at a greengrocer's, when I was shoved, and saw the prisoner at my side, and I missed my purse with 6s. 6d. out of my jacket side pocket—it was safe three minutes before—I said to the prisoner "You walked behind roe and I miss my purse, and I say you have got it"—I saw it in her hand, and said "Give it to me and you may go"—she said "Go along, I am a respectable person, but you are not"—I followed her across the road and said "Give me my purse"—she said "Go along, you are a bad woman"—she saw a policeman coming and went into the Turk's Head Inn—somebody then made a communication to me and I went in and saw my purse lying on the floor—the prisoner was standing by the counter, and I said "There is my purse; give me the money, I will give you in charge"—this is it (produced)—a constable came in and I gave her in charge.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. The man who picked up the purse and gave it to me is not here—I asked him to pick it up—it was behind the door where the leather strap was—several others were passing in the road at the time—I am not a convict—I think there is some difference between us—you used dreadfully abusive language to me.

LILIAN JAMES . I live with my father and mother at 6, Sun Court, Aldgate—I saw a purse in the prisoner's hand, and saw her go into the Turk's Head.

CHARLES TYE (City Policeman 904). I took the prisoner at the Turk's Head—the prosecutrix gave me this puree, which she said was behind the door at the Turk's Head—the prisoner denied all knowledge of it—I took her to the station—she was searched and 1s. 10d. and a ticket of leave found on her.

Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent; if I had had it I should have returned it. I never done such a thing in my life to take a puree. I would

take the ring off my finger sooner than do anything wrong. Crowds of people were passing, and the woman turned round and said "Did you walk after me?" I said "Yes;" and she said "Have you seen anybody take my purse?" I said "No, ma'am." She said "I think you have got it" I said "You must not think about it."

GUILTY . She was farther charged with a conviction of felony in September, 1875, at this Court, to which she

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Three Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-625

625. ALEXANDER WOOD (27) , Feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 2l. 7s. 4d., with intent to defraud.

MR. WHITE Prosecuted; MR. COOPER WYLDE Defended.

THOMAS HUNTER (Policeman B 457). I am in charge of this case—I have had the misfortune to lose the cheque the subject-matter of this case—I had it in my possession until Monday afternoon—I believe it is burnt—I found a portion of the envelope burnt in which it was—I pulled it out of my pocket-book.


NEW COURT.—Wednesday and Thursday, 2nd and 3rd July, 1879.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

Reference Number: t18790630-626

626. HANNAH DOBBS (24), was indicted for the wilful murder of Matilda Hacker, alias Huish.

The ATTORNEY-GENERAL, MR. GORST; Q.C., and MR. A. L. SMITH, Prosecuted; MR. MEAD Defended.

WILLIAM STROHMAN . I am 15 years old, and live at 37, Providence Street, St. George's-in-the-East—I have been working for seven or eight months, prior to May 9th, for Mr. Bastendorff, of 4, Euston Square—prior to that date I had been on and off to the coal-cellar for coals for the family, and in consequence of orders I received from Mrs. Bastendorff on May 9th, I went to the cellar with a basket and shovel to clean it up—there were some coals there and some old broken bottles and other dirt—I first found a large bone like a person's leg, which came up with the shovel, and ran up and told Albert Savage, who went down to the cellar with me—Joseph Savage went down also, and pulled the body out from the corner where it was—information was given, and a policeman came.

JOSEPH SAVAGE . I live at Marchmont Place, St. Pancras, and have been in Mr. Bastendorff's employ about six years at 4, Euston Square—he manufactures bamboo chairs and articles of furniture—his workshop is on the ground-floor at the back of his house, but there is an area; you can get to it from the back of the house—on 9th May Strohman came in and told me something about the coal-cellar—I went there with him and found a body there—it laid straight; I cannot tell whether on the back or the side—the head was in a corner of the cellar and the legs laid out straight—I laid hold of something; I cannot tell you whether it was cloth or clothing, it came away immediately, and I told Mrs. Bastendorff—there was what I should consider coal-dust on the body—there were some coals in the cellar then—I saw no rope—I pulled the body out previous to the police coming, and I had it uncovered up to its head to convince me that it was human; it was decomposed to a great extent—there was no smell from it when I first went in, but I expected there would be, and I asked the mistress for some chloride

of lime, which I placed in the cellar, but not near the body—a man was waiting in the area to deliver some coals.

ISAAC DOWLING (Policeman E 198). On 9th May about 10.15 a.m., I was sent for to 4, Euston Square—I went to the coal-cellar and saw the remains of a body there—it appeared to have been moved before I came; it had come from the extreme end of the cellar; it had been removed about 6 feet, I think, not out of the cellar but towards the front of it—that is the cellar which you come to through the scullery in the corner; there are two cellars—the body had a silk dress on; I did not see anything else—Fulcher the carman pulled some pieces of clothing off it—I noticed a rope twice round the neck; it had the appearance of a clothes line; it was in level with the flesh, cut in tightly—I called Inspector De Maid—he cut the rope; at least, it tore away as he put the knife under it—I saw two pieces of oilcloth in the cellar lying by the side of the body, but separate from it; one piece was about 2 yards long, and the other was much smaller, but as you moved it it fell all to pieces.

WILLIAM DE MAID (Police Inspector E). On Friday, 9th May, about 11 a.m., I was called to 4, Euston Square, and found a body lying in the cellar; by the side of it appeared to be some pieces of a black silk dress, and there was a cloth cloak with a Lood; the hood appeared to have a silk lining, and there was what appeared to be a part of a black silk petticoat, and some brown coloured lace as if it had been a scarf or a shawl; the body was partly decomposed, there were two turns of rope round the neck, very tight, embedded in the flesh; I put the point of the knife in to raise it, it was rotten and broke; it was a light clothes line the sides of the neck were partly decomposed, but not the front, and there appeared to be the flesh with the clothes line in it—I left all the things that I saw on the body there—I examined the cellar with Inspector Hagan on the same day, and helped to find some small bones of a foot, close to the spot where the body had been lying—I saw the remains put into a shell—the foot was also put in, and the small bones which were taken up afterwards, and the remains of the clothing—they were then taken to the mortuary—I saw this brooch (produced), but not before Mr. Hagan showed it to me there.

Cross-examined. The bones might have been the small bones of a hand or foot; neither of them were large enough to be mistaken for a leg of mutton bone—I do not remember seeing any boots found on the feet—I could not see any end to the cord till I raised the corpse, and it fell to pieces—I did not see any cord away from the neck; there were no ends, or what there were were very diminutive—I do not know what length of cord there was; it was too rotten to take off, and I let it remain till the body was taken to the mortuary.

CHARLES HAGAN . I am an Inspector of the Criminal Investigation Department—on Friday, 9th May, I went to 4, Euston Square, and found the body in the left-hand corner of the cellar—I saw embedded under the right jaw two pieces of clothes rope or clothes line, that was level with the outside of the flesh—I saw no knot, but the body had been removed before I saw it—there were also some pieces of rope lying about; I only saw two strands of rope under the right jaw; I did not see what was round the other side of the neck; I took it away—I broke one piece in two with my finger, and kept one piece of it; it came away like tinder; it was quite rotten; the piece I took was from 3 to 4 inches long; this is it (produced)—it has shrunken away,

and is now about 2 inches long, being dry—it was more like 3 inches than 4 inches—several pieces of rope were lying about, 3, 4, or 5 inches long amongst the rags, that was just the same description as the rope that was round the neck—this piece is not in the condition in which I found it; it has become untwisted since, because of the dryness—that which was round the neck was much more rotten than the other rope I found—the clothing was put into the shell—I saw no boots found at that time; when the body was removed I found this brooch at the mortuary—this buckle was found in the cellar—it fell from the rags of the silk dress—I found a great quantity of lace—I found the other clothing described; all that was found was put into the shell and taken to the mortuary, where I made further examination of the clothing—there was a portion, as it appeared to me, of a black silk body, very strong and very good; it did not appear enough for a dress; there were parts of the sleeves, showing that it had been a body; here is a piece of it (produced)—there were also the remains of a black quilted satin petticoat, a good long piece of it—there was a piece of red flannel, or flannel which had been red with the colour somewhat blanched, which apparently had been an uuder-garment, and outside the two pieces of black lace I found this brooch, and here is the pin of it; there was also the remains of a large circular waterproof cloak with a hood to it, which was lined with silk, and silk ribbons were hanging from the body—those things were left at the mortuary—Dr. Davis, Mr. Bond, and Mr. Pepper examined the body afterwards—I had given orders to sift the contents of the cellar, and I afterwards saw a foot with part of a boot on it; only one foot was found to my knowledge; the inspectors were Sergeant Gatland and Sergeant Beeson—I saw two pieces of oilcloth in the cellar, one large and one small, in a decomposed condition.

RICHARD BEESON . I was ordered to go to 4, Euston Square and sift the contents of the coal-cellar—I went on May 10 with Inspector Gatland, and found some small human bones, some pieces of female wearing apparel, portions of flesh, and a small bunch of hair with flesh adhering to it—I went again on the 12th and found a human foot with some signs of leather on it, but the boot was so decayed that I could not pull it off"—I also found some more bones and some wearing apparel—I put all those objects into a box and conveyed them to St. Pancras mortuary—I observed no particular smell in the cellar.

HENRY WILLIS . I am mortuary keeper at the mortuary by St. Pancras Workhouse—on 9th May I received a shell there containing some human remains from Thomas Woodley, the coachman—the Inspector of the S Division also brought some other objects in a box—the mortuary was always locked, except when the doctors came—those objects were shown to them.

HENRY PARRELL DAVIS , M.D. and M.R.C.S. I live at 1, Euston Square—on Friday, 9th May, the police fetched me to 4, Euston Square, and I was shown a body in one of the front cellars—on going in from the light I could see nothing but a black mass, a black mound, but on more closely examining I found at the end of the mound the head of a female—the remains had coal-dust on them, from which they were quite black—the head was exposed, there was a very small portion of hair on the scalp at the back of the head, but I could not notice the colour then—the body was flexed and the back was uppermost—the arms were flexed across the breast and the body resting on them—the arms were attached to the body, but there were no hands—the legs were severed from the knees; the portion above the

knees was attached, but the bones above the tibia were parted and quite denuded—the bones down to the ankle were bare—it is quite possible that the separation of the limbs from the body would be the result of decomposition—there was nothing to show me that it was not—I gave directions that all the things should be "brought to the mortuary, where I made a careful examination on the 10th with my son—I found that the flesh was entirely absent from the whole of the face and from the front of the neck, I mean over the windpipe, as well as the principal part of the scalp, all. except the back, and at the back of the neck I found a very deep impression or indentation, in which I discovered the remains of a cord—the flesh was still remaining as far, as the ears—I could not remove it as a cord, because it broke at the touch—it was round the back of the neck nearly from ear to ear—I cannot say whether it had been fastened—it was such an indentation as would be made by a cord drawn very tightly round the neck either before or after death, it is impossible to say which—there was flesh at the back and tides of the neck, but it was highly decomposed; it was quite a substance and in a fatty condition, but all was gone in front from decomposition, at least that might have been the case—if any wound was inflicted in front of the neck it possibly would more easily decompose, it might or it might not—when I saw the hair at the mortuary I considered it a light brown; it was short, and it had half a turn round, as though it was disposed to a ringlet; it would probably have been short ringlets during the life of the wearer—there was no fracture of the skull or of any of the bones as far as I saw—the internal organs were as you would suppose some long time after death, they were passing away—there was nothing to lead me to a conclusion as to the cause of death—I carefully examined the spine; I presume there was a little tendency to curvature of convexity to the right side, a lateral curvature giving a tendency to stoop to the right side—that would cause an appearance of deformity; there would be a little prominence of the right shoulder and a bending of the head to the other side, as you see in old people—there would be a very slight stoop—Mr. Bond was with me—I can only come to the conclusion that the woman's ago would be from 50 to 70, the only indication was from the lower jaw, and it might take place after 50—when the teeth go, the alvera sockets go also, and that gives an appearance of age which seldom is before 50 or 56—the height was about 5 feet 4 inches—Mr. Bond and I put the bones together with a view of ascertaining the height—we did it as carefully as we possibly could—the body had been clothed—I saw only one foot which was found, but there were some small bones belonging to the wrist and hand—it strikes me that there was a boot on the foot and covered with coal-dust—I observed no unpleasant smell, but the coal-dust would be a deodorant, being carbon—if the woman had been strangled, most likely there would be a flow of blood from the nose, ears, or mouth; there would not be time for much, and there might be none—it probably would not be profuse, but I cannot say that I have had any experience—if an artery in the neck was severed that would occasion a considerable discharge of blood; the quantity would depend upon whether the jugular vein was severed; if it was, the body would be emptied of blood directly.

Cross-examined. It is quite possible that she might have died from natural causes, provided the cord was placed round the neck afterwards: I cannot form any opinion—I saw nothing inconsistent with death from

natural causes—if there was a rupture of an internal vessel where the blood could escape there would be a considerable flow—a person might vomit a great deal of blood—the same would happen with hæmorrhage of the lungs.

AUGUSTUS JOSEPH PEPPER , F.R.C.S. I am a pathologist of St. Mary's Hospital—I made two examinations of the body at the mortuary, one on May 15 and the other on May 19, in company with Dr. Davis—I have heard his examination, and agree generally with what he has said—there was only presumptive evidence as to the cause of death; the deep mark in the neck showed what the cause of death might have been, but not what it was—the cord in the neck was at an angle of 45 degrees, which is consistent with death by hanging, and it is not the angle you would expect to get by death from strangulation—if the body had been tied round the neck by a cord after death and dragged, that would be consistent with what I saw—the groove was at both sides of the neck as well as at the back, and the higher part of the groove was at the back—it sloped from the front to the back backwards and upwards—all the flesh at the front of the neck was gone—there was no trace of the windpipe, but I may say that that is the first part of the body to decompose—there was a double lateral curvature of the spine, one curvature first to the right, and a second or compensatory curvature to the left—that must have existed during life; I examined the vertebrae, and found one side much deeper than the other—the main bone of the right leg, the tibia, was thickened; that would be caused by inflammation of the bone—that would almost certainly cause pain, which would be alleviated by rest, internal remedies, and warmth—a person suffering, from that disease might without medical advice resort to fomentation, and it might somewhat relieve the pain—the right fore arm was detached from the upper arm, but it must have been flexed on the chest before death—Inspector Hagan afterwards brought me a piece of carpet with several colours on it, and the stains were not very manifest on the upper surface, but on the under surface it was stained for rather more than a foot and a half very plainly, and nearly circular; it was caused by blood—I examined it by all the wellknown tests—I can only say that it was the blood of a mammal, but I cannot say that it was human; we cannot distinguish between the two—I put some of the viscera in a sealed vessel and gave them to Mr. Luff, the analytical chemist—my opinion is that the body had been dead from one to two years—I do not think more than two years.

Cross-examined. It was not entire; the left hand was attached, but all the bones were there except some of the small bones—they were broken off, and the foot was quite dry by a process called mummification—only the two large bones of the right foot were present; all the rest were missing—no bones were missing from the other foot—I found among some of the lesser bones of the head two bones which were not human; one was a leg of mutton bone, and the other was the foot of an ox, the femur, no small bone; I only saw one—strangulation would make a very considerable indentation in the neck, and that was consistent with hanging, and not strangulation, unless the person strangling was very much taller.

Re-examined. It might be caused by dragging the body—the comunnication of the foot was due to exposure on account of the small amount of flesh—I found the long bones of both legs perfect, and the long bones of the arms, all of which probably belonged to the same body—the bones missing were of the feet and hands—the mutton bone and ox bone were

quite clean and bare—they were the only bones I saw which were not human—the mutton bone appeared fresher than the ox bone; it is very difficult to form an opinion how long they had been there, as there was no soft material on them at all—I examined all the bones at the mortuary very carefully indeed.

THOMAS BOND , F.R.C.S. I am assistant-surgeon at Westminster Hospital—I was directed by the officers of the Criminal Investigation Department to go to St. Pancras Mortuary, and went on 12th May with Dr. Davis—I heard his evidence at the police-court, but not to-day—we found the body in a state of decomposition by a process called saponification—most of the viscera were decomposed or missing; some parts were very much decomposed—the front of the neck had perfectly disappeared, but at the back and sides I noticed an oblique depression—I formed no opinion whether that had been done by hanging or strangling, but I formed the opinion that it had been done by a cord—I estimated that the deceased was from 60 to 70 years of age—I measured the height very exactly, and found it to be 5 feet 4 inches—all the bones were there excepting a few small bones of one foot—if a person were strangled there might be a flow of blood some days after death, not likely a very large flow; there might be an oozing of blood from the mouth and nostrils, but not so much as would be required to make the stain on the carpet—I should expect to find a flow of blood at some variable period after death from 24 hours to a week—the mark on the neck was higher behind than in front—if a dead body was dragged by the neck by a small cord it would leave an indentation similar to what I found, and the cord would get totally embedded in, the neck—I noticed a curvature of the spine, which in life would cause, a perceptible stoop—Inspector Hagan brought me a piece of oilcloth; I examined it carefully, and by the general odour it appeared to have been in contact, or to have been subject to the same process of decay—I cut some hair from the scalp, took it home, washed it most carefully, and examined it with a microscope, but found no signs of any dye; it was slightly brown, and there was an indication of grey at the roots—it was short and very much tangled, probably as if it had been curled—a piece of drugget was brought to me—it was coloured on one side, printed, and whitey-brown on the other—there was a stiff stain on it, which was much more apparent on the whitey-brown side—I tested the stain by the usual processes, and found it was undoubtedly the blood of a mammal; that is as far as I can tell you—I sent it to Mr. Pepper.

Cross-examined. Judging, from the size of the bones, and the appearance of the flesh, I think the deceased must have been a heavy woman—from the stiffness of the blood on the carpet I believe it was undiluted—I have seen a person who died from hanging, but never saw one who was strangled and then fell on the floor—I do not think strangling a person in a recumbent position would would be more likely than hanging to induce a flow of blood—the flow of blood is caused by decomposition taking place—I see no evidence of this carpet having been washed; it is just in the condition it would be if it had been worn with the stain on it—it may have been washed on the surface, but not thoroughly—I am certain it has not been taken up and washed.

Re-examined. If a blood-vessel burst at the time of struggling or from natural causes that would cause a great discharge of blood, which would come from the stomach, or wherever the cause might be, out of the mouth—that would be pure blood.

ARTHUR PEARSON LUFF . I am an analytical chemist—I received from Mr. Pepper a portion of the kidneys, the liver, and the large intestine of a human being, which I analysed for mineral poison, but found none.

THOMAS WOODLEY . I am coachman at St. Pancras Mortuary—on 9th May I received a shell containing some human remains at 4, Euston Square, which I took to the mortuary, and gave them to Henry Willis, the mortuary keeper, in the same state in which I received them.

EDWARD HACKER . I live at 9, Rochester Row, Kentish Town, and am an artist—I had a sister of the name of Matilda Hacker—in the autumn of 1877 she was 66 years of age—these (produced) are photographs of her; one of them is in an evening dress and the other in a morning dress—my sister was in the habit of dressing somewhat gaily, too young for her age—I should think these photographs were taken some 10 or 15 years since—up to about five years ago she was a resident at Canterbury; she had lived there all her life—her means were derived from rentals of houses at Canterbury—her income was about 130l. a year—Mr. Cozens collected her rents—she left Canterbury about two years ago; she left of her own choice—her sister having died, she chose to leave, and took a house at Brighton—after leaving Brighton she was living under assumed names—she lived at Brighton about two years or two and a half—I have learnt that she lived under assumed names in consequence of some dispute with the landlord; a claim which he made which she thought unjust, about some water rate—her height was 5 feet 4 inches, I should say—she got stouter after these photographs were taken; in fact, there is so much clothing here you can hardly see the stoutness; but she appeared stouter latterly, and stooped and was round-shouldered—she called on me, perhaps, once in three or four months, otherwise I never saw her—I have never heard of her being alive since October, 1877—I always expected to see her once in four months, at Christmas time—the last Christmas she did not call—I thought it rather strange, and knowing there was some claim upon her which she seemed determined not to pay, I thought it possible that she might be in some trouble, and therefore I made it my business to go to Canterbury some two or three months after that, and I found she had not called for her rent—there was not the slightest quarrel or difference with me to make her keep away, except that I did not approve of her taking a large house, which I thought she had not the means for—she took a house at Brighton at something like 160l. a year rent and taxes, and I did not approve of it—in May this year I went to the mortuary with Inspector Hagan, and there saw a portion of human remains—some hair was attached to portions of the skull—that hair was of a similar character to that of my sister's; it was rather light brown, and being in ringlets I identified it the more as being her hair—I have no doubt that this watch was hers, and that is confirmed by the fact of its having been made by Warren, of Canterbury, where I know her watch was bought—we were natives of Canterbury—the two watches were bought at the same time, and given by my father to each of his daughters—that was about 40 years ago—I have not looked inside the watch (opening it)—yes, I see it has the name of Warren, of Canterbury—it is precisely identical with the watch which my other sister had—this chain is similar to one I have seen my sister wear, but I have never taken particular notice of it—it was of a more recent date, which she purchased probably herself, but I believe it is the chain I have seen her wearing; it is similar to it—I know nothing about the locket—

this letter, dated 5th Sept, 1877, addressed to Mr. Tuxford, is my sister's writing. (Read: "Miss Hacker wishes an advance of 250l. on the enclosed, in which she has a life interest at 5 per cent, and a life policy for like, in the Norwich Union Office, Chancery Lane, for the sum of 250l. Mr. Ward has not the money at his command, and is sorry he cannot get it for me. Friday evening, Sept 5, 1877.") This other letter, dated 10th Oct, 1877, is also her writing, and the envelope also. (Read: "Dear Sir,—It is very annoying, after receiving a bill from you for nearly 6l., to hear from the tenant the water pours in, and the plaster is all down, which if properly done would last for years; and he was obliged to have a man to do the gutter himself. I have written to him to go on the roof to see if there has been a new gutter, and that has been done. It appears you then are not to be depended on, if they cannot stop the water out on such a small roof. Did you see it done? There is a window-frame wants repairing at 7. Yours truly, M. Hacker. Trusting you will attend to their complaints—I can't pay if there is nothing done.") I did not know my sister's address in Oct, 1877—I did not know that she was suffering from a varicose vein—I never heard her complain of her leg.

WALTER COZENS . I am a builder at Canterbury, and live at Dover House, Dover Road—at one time I had the management of Miss Hacker's property at Canterbury, and received her rents—I received her rents in 1877—I gave it up on 30th March, 1878—neither I nor my father received her rents after that—this letter of 10th Oct is Miss Hacker's writing; it was written to my father—we did the repairs to her property—that letter of the 11th Oct, enclosing a cheque, was written by me to Miss Hacker—the cheque was for the rent of a yard which we occupied. (Read: "Miss Hacker. Madam,—I enclose you a cheque for a half-year's rent of my premises as above, less a balance of account for which I have your authority to deduct Please sign and return enclosed acknowledgment In regard to your letter of this morning, I must decline to do necessary repairs to your property, and I advise you to employ a man whose word can be taken, and one whose word can be depended on. I am, yours, Thomas Cozens") I enclosed in that a cheque for 5l. 14s. 3d.—the letter is addressed to "M. B., Post Office, 227, Oxford Street, London"—those were Miss Hacker's instructions to me by a letter sent to me from London—this is the letter—my letter came back to me through the dead letter office—I never heard from Miss Hacker since 10th October, and have never been applied to for the cheque.

ARTHUR RICHARD LEWIS WHISH . I am manager of the National Provincial Bank of England, Lincoln's Inn Fields branch—in August, 1877, a person representing herself as Miss Hacker called on me, and wanted an advance on some property in the country—I think I referred her to her solicitor—she asked me if I would name one, and I named Mr. Ward—I don't recollect whether I gave her my card to take to Mr. Ward; I very likely might have done so—I have no recollection of the person; she was a complete stranger to me.

JOHN SANDILANDS WARD . I am a solicitor, of 51, Lincoln's Inn Fields—in August, September, and October, 1877, Miss Hacker came to me relative to some business about the transfer of a mortgage—she was a perfect stranger to me before this—I think she brought me Mr. Whish's card on 29th August, 1877—the last time she came to me was on 5th October, 1877—I had eight

interviews with her—I can give the exact dates of each of them from my deed book, which I have here—she came into my private room, and sat immediately opposite to me, on the other side of my table—she was dressed in a very eccentric manner—I recognise her photograph—I noticed the eccentricity of her attire altogether, particularly her jewellery—she wore a buckle similar to this; she wore a light silk dress, either blue or white, a white lace shawl thrown over her shoulders, which was joined by a brooch, a light-coloured broad sash, with a buckle similar to the one produced—the brooch was very similar to this, and similar to the one in the photograph—I particularly remember the eyeglass—she generally rested her hand on the table while consulting with me, and she held an eyeglass similar to this in her hand, nervously moving it about between her fingers—she often used it when in my presence, and in the manner I have described—her hair was in curls—I saw the hair on the remains at the mortuary, and it was very similar to the hair of Miss Hacker.

WESTON TITUS TUXFORD . I am a wine merchant, living at 21, Castelnau Villas, Barnes—I have been acquainted with the Hacker family for nearly 40 years—this letter, dated 5th September, 1877, purporting to come from Miss Hacker, is wrongly dated; it ought to be October instead of September.

ELIZABETH EAST . I live at St. Lawrence, Ramsgate—in the year 1876 I kept a boarding-house at 19, Woburn Place—a lady calling herself Miss Stevens came to lodge with me in February of that year, and remained till the early part of May—the photograph produced is like her—she had an eyeglass, which she used in rather a fanciful manner; also a buckle which she wore whilst with me—the cash-box produced is like the one she had, and also the trunk—I recognise the large watch and chain and other articles that have been produced.

Cross-examined. It is more than three years ago since I saw the handkerchief—I recollect only the peculiar way in which she wore it and would put it on the table; it was a narrow, old-fashioned border; it is not extremely common—to the best of my belief that is the eyeglass also.

LIZZIE BRIDGES . I am a widow, and live in Hill Street, Dorset Square—in 1876 I was living at No. 4, Bedford Place—a lady named Miss Bell came to lodge with me about the end of May, and went away again in October—I have seen similar photographs to these in her own possession—I recognise this photograph of her; she had a cash-box, and this is like it; she wore an eyeglass, and this is quite like the one; the large watch and chain produced are exactly like those she wore, and the basket trunk is like the one she had—I remember Superintendent Davis coming from Canterbury with a warrant and taking possession of some of Miss Bell's property.

ROBERT PARSONS DAVIS . I am the chief constable of Canterbury—I knew the late Miss Hacker since the year 1857—I came to London in October, 1876, with a warrant to distrain upon her goods—I went to 24, Bedford Place, and saw her there; I took possession of her trunk, and while putting it on the cab outside a gold watch and chain fell out; this is the watch, and this is the chain, but it had not these appendages at the time, it was a plain one—I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that that is the identical trunk.

Cross-examined. There is no particular mark by which I know the chain—I had it in my possession a day and a night; it was an ordinary lady's gold chain; it was broken—I did not take particular notice of the links—I gave the watch and chain back to Miss Hacker the next morning.

MARY HONOR . I live at 7, Mornington Crescent—on 7th May, 1877, I let apartments to Miss Hacker; she remained with me till the end of August—I think this photograph is like her; she passed by the name of Sycamore during the time she was with me; the letters came addressed to Miss Hacker, and were taken up to her by the servant—she was dressed very conspicuously; the eyeglass produced is like that I saw her with, and the watch and chain also; the links of it were the same as my own, that is why I noticed it—she wore a skirt with a black silk body.

REBECCA NASH . I was in the service of Mrs. Honor in 1877—I remember a lady coming and residing there under the name of Miss Sycamore—this photograph is very like the lady; letters came addressed to Miss Hacker, which I took up to her in consequence of the orders she gave; she had a waterproof with a deep cape, and a large lace fichu, which came across the shoulders; she also wore a red flannel bodice; she had a basket trunk like that produced; I remember the hard leather handles which hurt my hand—I don't remember having often lifted one like it; it was in very good condition then; it had a tray to it—she had a dream-book, I quite remember that; this is very much like it—she wore a black satin quilted petticoat the whole time she was with us, except she occasionally wore a white petticoat—I remember her using an eyeglass exactly like this, if it is not this—it was not cracked—I do not remember the watch and chain—I have posted letters for her to Canterbury—she used to complain of her leg being painful when she came in from a walk; I forget which leg it was; I never saw it—she used to ask me for a little warm water, that was the most I heard about it; she said it was painful—that happened very often; it was fine weather, and she was out a great deal, and when she came home she used to complain of its being painful, and I used to take up the warm water for her—on 17th May last I was taken to the mortuary, and there saw some hair on portions of a scalp—I thought it was very like Miss Hacker's hair in the length and colour, and it was, curled like hers—I saw the remains of a black satin quilted petticoat there; I know she wore one—I also saw the remains of a red flannel bodice.

Cross-examined. I know the dream-book was called Napoleon's Book of Fate; that was on the top of the leaf—I often had it in my hand, and I know it by the general look and by the title.

FRANCIS RIGGENNBACH . I am a merchant living in Brixton Road—in April, 1877, I went to lodge at 4, Euston Square, at the house kept by Mr. and Mrs. Bastendorff—I occupied the whole of the first floor till September, 1878; I took my own furniture there; the prisoner was the servant there all the time I lodged there, and waited on me, except with one interruption, when she went for a holiday; that must have baen at the end of August or beginning of September, 1877; I dc not remember a lady lodging above me on the second floor—I have a vague recollection of seeing an elderly lady in the passage at the time I had received a dog; I can't exactly tell the day; it was on a Sunday in October, 1877—while I lodged there I used to go out on week days between 9 and 10 o'clock in the morning, and return about 9 or 10 o'clock in the evening—on Sundays I used to go out in the afternoon about 12 or 1 o'clock, and come back about 10 o'clock in the evening—I remember the Sunday, the day of the French elections in 1877; it was the 14th October; it was a very remarkable election, and I took a great deal of interest in it—I went out about 12 o'clock that day, and went to see my partner, who then was in London, and a friend of his who had come over from

Paris on business, and my partner took lodgings in Torrington Square for himself and friend while he was here—I was absent from my lodgings that day till about 4 o'clock, when I came back with my partner and his friend for a few minutes; they came into the house with me; I only stayed a few minutes—I came back about 11 o'clock at night—I had a latch-key, and let myself in—I went several times into the back area, because my dog was tied up there—I never went into the front area—while the prisoner was away for a month's holiday there was a temporary servant; I recognise her now as Mrs. Hobson; it was after the prisoner came back from her holiday that I have a vague recollection of seeing the old lady in the passage—I was absent from the house in the spring of 1877, and also from the evening of 8th September until Friday morning, 14th September; I went away again on the evening of 14th November, and came back on 21st November, 1877, in the morning—in the interval between those two absences I was not absent for the night.

Cross-examined. I cannot tell whether I had the dog on the 14th October; I might or might not—I was occupied with the dog in the passage at the time I have a vague recollection of seeing the old lady—I don't remember whether it was after the French elections—I once saw the prisoner take the children out, and I know they were almost always with her.

MARGARET HOBSON . I am a widow now living in Tavistock Place, Tavistock Square—in the middle of August, 1877, I went as servant to Mrs. Bastendorff at 4, Euston Square, and left in the middle of September—the prisoner came back from her holiday three weeks after I was there—she then went into the country with Christina Bastendorff for a day or two, and when she came back Mr. and Mrs. Bastendorff, Christina, and Peter went, as I thought, to Sheerness; they went away till the Monday morning, and I stayed with the prisoner—I left when they returned—I used to go into the coal-cellar every morning for coals, and two or three times in the day—the coal-cellar opens from the washhouse or scullery—when I left there was about half a ton of coals in the cellar, and a certain amount of rubbish in the corner on the right.

SUSANNAH BUTCHER . I am the wife of Henry Butcher, of Brighton Road, Red Hill—on 28th August, 1877, the prisoner came to my house with a little girl whose name was Christina—she came on Saturday evening between 6 and 7, and left on Tuesday morning between 10 and 11.

Cross-examined. Ours is a private house; we occasionally let lodgings, not as a rule—the police came to me about this—I should think the little girl was between 5 and 6 or 6 and 7—they were out all day from about 10 till 8 at night, except on Sunday, when she came in about tea-time and had tea.

THOMAS RAPER . I am a lamp-dealer of 233, Euston Road—on Monday, 24th September, 1877, I sold a lamp, not to the name of Mrs. Bastendorff, but to the address, 4, Euston Square.

MARY BASTENDORFF . I am the wife of Severin Bastendorff, and live at 4, Euston Square—my husband is a bamboo worker—we have four children; the eldest, Christina, is 7 years old, and the youngest, Rosa, is 18 months—we went to live at 4, Euston Square, in March, 1876—we have been accustomed to let out the house in apartments—the prisoner came to us as servant in the summer of 1876 as maid-of-all-work at 14l. a year—about the

middle of August, 1877, she went away for a month—whilst she was with us the attended entirely to the lodgers—I remember a lady coming to lodge with me in the name of Miss Huish—she took the second-floor front room at 12s. a week—I remember buying a lamp of Mr. Raper the same day she came, the 24th September, 1877—Mr. Riggenbach was then lodging with us—we had no other lodgers at that time—we had had an American gentleman named Finlay—he left in August—before that we had a gentleman named Leffler; he had gone—some persons named Willoughby came after Miss Huish, I think at the end of November—I saw Miss Huish on two occasions while she was with us, on Sunday morning going to church—the prisoner lot her the lodging—she always waited on the lodgers, and attended to everything they wanted—she had the entire management of the lodgers, letting the rooms, and so on; she always consulted me—she of course asked me what the rent of the rooms was to be—I did not see Miss Huish before she had the room—I saw her on two occasions on two Sunday mornings pass the window going to church—the prisoner came down and asked me if I would lend Miss Huish my Church Service—she always passed by the name of Miss Huish whilst she was in our house; I never heard any other name—on Monday, 15th October, I remember my husband sending the prisoner up to ask Miss Huish for her rent—I don't know whether I was present—I made out the bill and gave it to the prisoner; it was for 1l. 16s., three weeks' rent—she took the bill upstairs and brought it down with a 5l. note—she came down directly; it is so long ago I can't tell to a minute or two how long it was—she brought the change down when she brought the bill—she had to go and fetch change I think; I don't know who got the change—I believe my husband got the change—I took the 1l. 16s., receipted the bill, and gave it to her—she said the lady was going away presently; that was said when she came back with the bill—about 1 o'clock, at dinner time, she said that the lady was gone—my husband and I and the children were present, nobody else—the prisoner came down while we were at dinner; she never sat down to dinner with us—I never saw Miss Huish afterwards—a day or a day or two afterwards I had occasion to go upstairs to the room that Miss Huish had occupied—she was not there—I saw a large stain on the carpet, which I am quite sure had been washed out—the colour had run—the prisoner followed me into the room, and I said to her "Hannah, you are a dreadful girl to trust any one's things to; I had a great deal better be without lodgers than have my things destroyed in this way; I wish I had seen this before she went away, I would have made her pay for the damage"—she did not make any remark—she did not look at the stain—she seemed rather confused—it annoyed me and I came out of the room—the stain was not there when Miss Huish took the room; it was just by the side of the bed—it was such a stain that a person would notice at once on going into the room, because it had been washed—that was why I noticed it so particularly, because the colour had run—I did not notice whether it was dry or wet—shortly after the lady left the prisoner brought down-a dream-book, a book of fate—I believe this (produced) is it—she said the old lady had left her dream-book—it was in better condition then—we kept it and used it till we gave it to the police—when the prisoner brought it down I said "She will, I think, come back for it; she will be in a way"—I said so because the prisoner told me that the old lady used to amuse herself with it—the prisoner went away for three days' holiday about the latter end of Oct, 1877—she told me she was going

to her home at Bideford, that her uncle was dead, and had left her a watch and chain and some money—she did wear a watch and chain, but I could not tell at what time I saw her wearing it—I never noticed the chain particularly; I believe it was similar to the one produced—I do not think that by any chance I ever went into the cellar while the prisoner was in my service—I don't remember ever going into the cellar at all—I did go there after the prisoner had left—she left about Sept., 1878—she said she was going to apartments in George Street, Euston Square, 57, I think—I had been into the cellar after she left—I never experienced anything particular there, except that I thought it was rubbish—after she left, I remember going upstairs and finding the trap leading to the loft and the top of the house shut down; as a rule it was open—we were without a servant for a few weeks after she left—Louisa Barber was the next servant who came; she was with us seven weeks exactly—during that time she brought me some clothes, towels and cloths that she found in the cellar—our next servant was Sarah Carpenter; she came about Jan., 1879—a short time before the discovery was made she came up and told me that there was a large bone in the cellar; she did not bring it to me, I went down to see it—I went into the scullery—the cellar in which the body was afterwards found leads direct through the scullery—I saw that it was a large bone—I said it was one of the wild boar's bones that was thrown out into the area—it was a large animal that my husband had—I never saw it—I don't know what kind of thing it was, he brought it from Germany after a sporting excursion—we ate some of it; it was dried and salted, and kept down there—on 9th May last I gave instructions to the lad Charles Strohman to clear out the cellar, and the remains were then found—up to that time I had not the slightest idea that there was any body or any remains in the cellar—on Sunday, 14th October, 1877, my husband was at Erith; he went down on the Saturday night, the 13th—I believe I was at my sister's, Margaret Pearce's, that day; she lives at Holloway; it was my custom when my husband was away on Sunday to take my little girl and go to my sister's—I remember buying a coat for my boy Peter at Moses's on Saturday, 13th October, 1877—I don't know what I bought it for, except that he wanted it—I don't remember whether he was going anywhere, but he did go with the prisoner to Bideford—I could not say how long that was after the coat was bought—I never told the prisoner that Miss Huish had gone, and that she had left a shilling for her—she never did so—I never spoke to the lady; I remember that the prisoner took the children to Hampstead; I could not say what date it was—I could not say whether it was in October—I never went into Miss Huish's room during her tenancy.

SEVERIN BASTENDORFP . I live at 4, Euston Square, and am a manufacturer of Japanese, bamboo, and straw goods—my workshop is at 4, Seymour Road, which is at the back of 4, Euston Square; this is it on the plan—I employ from 10 to 16 men, and some boys—the prisoner came to my house as a servant in 1876, and remained till September, 1878—I remember her telling me that the lady who lodged in the house had a dream-book, and was very fond of it—I never saw the lady; it was not my habit to see the lodgers—on Sunday, 14th October, I went to Erith with Mr. Whiffling; we got down about 3 p.m., and went to stay with Mr. Richards—as soon as it was daylight on Sunday morning I got up and went out shooting—I had a gun licence—a policeman came up and asked me to show him my licence, and copied

my name off it—I was afterwards summoned for shooting too near the high road, and fined 2l.—I think it was pretty near 11 o'clock that night when we got back to Euston Square—I found my wife there, and the prisoner; my wife was sitting in the front kitchen on the left side of the table as you walk in; she had on black silk and a hat—on the Monday morning I said to the prisoner "If you don't go up and fetch that money down," meaning the rent, "I will go myself"—1l. 16s. was then due—she jumped past me, and said "I will go up, then," but why I spoke so sharp to her was because I had asked her on former occasions to go up and get the money, but not from that lady—I mean that she had shown unwillingness to get the money from other lodgers; she was away just long enough to go upstairs and down; she brought down a 5l. note, and said that the lady had no other change—I said "That will do," and took it into the shop, and told a boy to go and change it, which he did, and wanted to give it to me, but I told him to take it to Hannah, and saw him go upstairs with the whole amount, but did not see him give it to her—I heard at dinner that day that the old lady had left, but cannot say who said it, and on the next day, or two days after, Hannah brought down a dream-book in her hand, and said that the lady had left it behind, and I think she put it on a shelf on the dresser, and said "Won't she be in trouble now?" my wife said that she would be sure to come back for it; the book was left some time in the kitchen, and then it was taken up into the parlours; I ultimately gave it to the police; this looks like it (produced)—I saw the prisoner with a watch and chain late in 1877, and I think these are the things or something like them—I know the key the best of anything, I never saw one before nor yet after—I cannot say whether it was before or after the Sunday I went to Erith—I wore the watch and chain half a day—I went down and asked her to show me the watch her uncle left her, in consequence of something which was said in my shop, and this is the watch she produced—it is the only watch I saw her with—I said "This is a very nice watch, I wish I had an uncle to leave me one"—I had no watch when she lent it to me—I had had one, and I bought the one I have now in June 1878—I first saw this cashbox in the front kitchen about six weeks or two months before Christmas, 1877—I asked generally in the room, "Whose is this cashbox?" or where it came from, and the prisoner said that it was hers; it was broken then as it is now—she said that she had lost the key and had it broken open, and it was of no use any more—my children took it out and played with it in the square, and I afterwards gave it to the police—a month, or two or three months before Christmas, 1878,1 saw a basket trunk in the scullery—I had not seen it before because it stood in between a cask of claret and the wall—my brother asked me some time after Christmas for a basket to keep dirty clothes in, and I gave it to him—when the discovery was made in the cellar I got the basket back and gave it to the police—in the autumn of 1877 the prisoner was several times away from my house—I do not remember her going to Red Hill, I remember her taking my daughter away—she was supposed to go down to Bideford in the autumn of that year, and she took my son Peter with her—there are two coal cellars in my front area, I used one for coals and the other was let to lodgers, but when it was not let we used it for coke; that is the one that opens into the area, but sometimes it was empty—these (produced) are my coal bills for 1877; on 21st July I had in one ton of coal and a chaldron of coke; this is the bill, it is for 1l. 3s.—there is no bill before that, but when Mr. Roberts came I had just had

two tons in and did not want any, and I only gave him an order out of old friend's sake—that would be put into the cellar opening out of the scullery, so that I had possibly nearly two tons and three-quarters—my boys used to go very often to. the coal cellar in the winter of 1876; I do not think they went much in 1877, but the prisoner went there and the boys went to the other cellar—I burn coke in my business, and when it burnt dead the boys went to the coal cellar and fetched coals—I went into the coal cellar once last Christmas when I had no servant, and I went in the other cellar when we salted a wild boar—one Saturday afternoon in 1877 I went through the area and the prisoner was standing at the washhand-stand—there were some big bones on the shelf and some rotten eggs, and I told her she must keep the place clean because it smelt too strong—that was in the scullery, and on the Sunday she went down in the country with Peter, and I went into the scullery and looked to see if my orders had been executed, and everything smelt sweet and proper—I brought the wild boar to the house in January 1878, we skinned him in the shop and cut him up in the back kitchen, and took him down and put him in a large basin and put him in the coke cellar—I mean the cellar which opens into the area—I remember a lodger named Finlay being in the house, he left in August 1877, and never came back that I know of; while he was there I saw him with a little American pistol about five inches long.

MARY BASTENDORFF (Re-examined). I found two pawn-tickets in the prisoner's box just before she went away—I took the name and address, and went to Mr. Thompson's, the pawnbroker—I only asked to see the chain; he showed me this chain.

Cross-examined. Whenever the prisoner chose to ask me I allowed her to go out—I had a little girl to attend to the lodgers when she was out—she was my second servant, a nursemaid; she was not with me at the time Miss Hacker was at my house—I had no little girl with me then—I don't think the prisoner went out during the three weeks Miss Hacker was with me—I was without a second servant till January—I never had occasion to wait upon the lodgers if she was out; she always said they were provided for—I may have waited upon them on a single occasion—I think it is impossible that I could have spent a Sunday afternoon with Miss Hacker in her room and not remember it—I have a faint recollection of Miss Hacker taking my children into the square; I heard she borrowed the key—she never visited me—the stain on the carpet was not there before Miss Hacker took the room—I did not see the room all the time she occupied it—I do not recollect entering the room all the time she was there—I was much engaged with other things, and did not look after the lodgers; it was not my place—the prisoner said between 11 and 12 o'clock that Miss Hacker was going—I never heard any cab come; I did not watch—it did not occur to me that I must have heard some noise if a heavy box was carried down—I believe she had luggage—the prisoner told me she had gone; I expressed no surprise—the prisoner took the children out two or three times, but not often—she took them to Hampstead, and showed me a portrait of them on her return—this is it (produced)—it may have been done in October; it is impossible for me to say—I don't remember the prisoner taking my children out on the day Miss Hacker left; it may have been on that day; if so it was in the afternoon—she did not say that Miss Hacker had gone while she was absent—Miss Hacker did not give me a shilling for Hannah, nor did I say so—the lodgers

never left gratuities—as a rule Miss Hacker dressed in the morning and went out—I have not seen the oilcloth in which the body was wrapped—we had some oilcloth in the passage of the house when Miss Hacker left, but I never missed any—I understand there was a basket trunk found in the coke-cellar—I did not know that Miss Hacker had a trunk of that sort—there was a back room on the top floor locked once when I went away, but not after—Inspector Hagan has been in there, and in every room in the house—it was about 11 o'clock when Hannah came downstairs and said that Miss Huish was going away, and it was 1 o'clock when she told me that she had gone; I was not surprised, because anybody could come down and I not hear it in the kitchen—I don't think I suggested to Inspector Hagan when the body was found that it was a lodger—I was in the dining-room on the ground floor when I saw Miss Hacker going to church—that looks out into the street.

Re-examined. I generally spend my mornings in the kitchen, which is below—I did not see a cab at the door; I should not unless I watched for it—I saw nothing to lead me to suppose Miss Huish had gone—the front kitchen window opens into the area, and the back kitchen into a yard behind—a person who left the house would go out of the passage on the ground floor into the street—if I was looking out at the front kitchen window I could see a cab—in this photograph my little girl has on a light blue dress trimmed with fur—these are summer dresses which my children wore in warm weather—that applies to them all; the baby has on a white marcella pelisse; that is cotton—the basement only of my house has oilcloth on it; the kitchen is covered all over with linoleum, which is never taken up—the oilcloth is in the passage leading from the yard to the back stairs—there is oilcloth in the front hall; that is never taken up—there is none on the stairs nor in any closet—I missed ne oilcloth which was down, and we have never had any new oilcloth since I have been in the house, but I took some up last Christmas which was worn out and put it in the kitchen.

By the COURT. It is not at all usual for our lodgers to give notice—I do not think it is usual in furnished apartments; I never made it a rule—they left just as they liked—the last lodger before Miss Huish was a lady named Leslie; I saw her go, because Hannah was away—I do not think the former tenants gave notice—I did not go into the cellar at all that I know of before the prisoner left in September, 1878—the coals were put into the cellar from the top, from the street—it will hold a great many; we have had 4 tons in—it is, I think, a light cellar; it is not so light as this room, but I do not consider it a dark cellar—I did not see Miss Huish's luggage when she came—I may have asked Hannah if she had any, or I may not—I knew that she had arrived; I was at home at the time, and heard some one come in—I cannot hear any one walk upstairs when I am in the kitchen—I always make inquiry, and I believe she had luggage—I believe I asked, and I suppose I was told that she had, but I don't remember—I think she had been asked previously for the money—I was three weeks without, a servant after. Christmas this year—I have had no lodgers since the prisoner left; Mr. Riggenbach left just before I went away—I recollect his going; he had his own furniture.

SEVERIN BASTENDORFF (Re-called and Cross-examined). I never went outside the house with the prisoner during the time she was in my service—I know Argyll Street, but not the Prince's Hotel—I was never in Argyll

Street with the prisoner, and never went to Eedhill to see her, or to her lodgings in Edgware Road, or a tobacconist's shop in Euston Square—I have seen her outside the house when she went to fetch the beer, but never walked one inch with her—as I went into the public-house she came out—I know Mr. Johnson, the publican near me, and his brother John Johnson—I have not seen him for one or two years; I did not tell him I had been out with the prisoner—I liked the prisoner very well, because my brother kept company with her, but for no other reason—my brother has never said I was too fond of her; he has never complained to me or to any one that I ever heard of—it would be untrue if he said he had observed I was too fond of her, and that he had complained—I never gave her any present exceeding the value of half-a-crown—I gave her a cabinet once—sometimes she left her wages for a fortnight or a month, but not at ray request—at Christmas, 1877, she lent me 3l.; she did not lend me anything else but money; she gave me a gilt pencil-case in the summer of 1876 or 1877—I cannot say whether it was before or after the watch and chain; it was, I think, long before the 3l. was lent, more like a year than a month—I never gave her a present besides the cabinet—I never gave her a gold watch—I did not give her a watch I was wearing, and tell her to say her uncle left it her, because I did not want my wife to know that I had given it to her, nor a chain, nor an eyeglass—I do not recollect seeing the basket trunk before last autumn—I saw it then in the front scullery—I had not seen it before that in the coke cellar to my recollection—it might have been in the house without my seeing it—it might have been in another basket in the coke cellar—there were other baskets there, and one large enough to hold two of the basket-trunks—I was there in 1878, when I put the wild boar in—I have not been in the cellar from time to time—I kept no bamboo there till the last three or four months—I do not know whether the basket was there, but I never saw it to my recollection—I had the cashbox from Christmas 1877—Hannah Dobbs gave it me, I asked her for it and she said I should have it—it was in my possession when the police came to me—sometimes a game of cards was played on Sundays at my house, but not since I went out on Saturday, I did not like to play any more on a Sunday since then—we played before and I wanted to give it up—about August, 1877, I took to going out from Saturday to Sunday night shooting, and I think my wife joined me once on a Sunday with the children at Sheerness and only once—I was generally alone on the Sunday, shooting—my wife was not always with me—if she went to Sheerness I stayed at home—I think my wife only came once to Erith on Sunday in September, she used to come before morning service; she came one Sunday at Erith—when at the police-court I said, "I left home Saturday and returned home on Sunday, and sometimes took my wife with me"—I had not time to think, but my impression was that we went out often together, I did not then know when it was that Miss Hacker was in the place—I might have said, "In Oct., 1877, I was with Mr. Richards of Northumberland House, Erith, he is a builder"—I think it was September my wife went there—I have one book here referring to Mr. Riggenbach, but no other—I had no other account-book when Miss Hacker was with us, and my wife had not that I know of—I don't know why several leaves are cut out; that was done before we were married—I had a revolver, but sold it in 1876—I had no revolver in 1877; my brother Peter had one, and I took it in the country with me—he lent it me—the prisoner

never saw it to my recollection—I do not recollect a lodger named Mr. Ross in 1877 after Miss Hacker went—Mr. Kiggenbach had a latch-key—there were keys in the kitchen, and when my wife or the servant went out I suppose they took one, hut sometimes they forgot it—I think my brother Pierre had one; I suspected he had and asked him, and he said no—I always used the cellar for myself where the body was found, and the lodgers used the coke-cellar—the coal-cellar was being prepared for our lodger because I had bought about 3,000 bamboos, and I had nowhere to put them but the coke-cellar—we kept our own coals in a cellar under the shop—the coal-cellar was being prepared for Mr. Brooks, a namesake of the other lodger—he went away next day, and sent for his furniture—he did not live there or sleep there—this affair occurred about my shooting in the highway before breakfast—Mr. Richards is here with whom I was stopping—the children would sleep on that Sunday night in their bedroom upstairs unless they were from home; I do not recollect anything about it—Hannah Dobbs used to go out sometimes; she went whenever she asked, if there were no lodgers there, but not if there were—between the times when they did not want any attendance, if she asked she might have gone out—it was always arranged for her to be there when the lodgers wanted anything—if they wanted anything while she was away my little girl took it to them—she is 5 or 6 years old—my wife prepared breakfast for Mr. Riggenbach once, and my little girl took it up—Hannah Dobbs went out in the evening for a short time—my little girl would not attend to the lodgers when she was out; if they rang they would very likely go on ringing the bell till Dobbs returned.

Re-examined by MR. GORST. My wife came once to me on a Sunday at Mr. Richards's at Erith—I went down on the Saturday—we did not go in those two months' time, but I drove her down once last year to see Mr. Richards—I recollect her coming down on one occasion, I think before the Sunday I was interrrupted by the policeman—I took her down several times last year—I don't know what sort of cabinet Dobbs took; there were a dozen of various sorts; she prized them, and I told her she could choose one—they were Japanese cabinets which I had bought; I had a box full, and have some of them now—the 3l. she lent me was for a cask of claret which came from France, and I did not want it to stay in the docks or to be stored away—I did not like to lose time, so I asked Dobbs to lend me 3l. to pay for the cask of claret—I think it came on Tuesday—I had no money in the house, but if I had spent a quarter of an hour I could have got 20l.—I paid her back on Saturday in the same week—the children's bedroom I think was always the top back room, the large room on the floor above Miss Huish—there are four floors—the children were put to bed about 7.30 or 8, and we made no difference on Sundays—an uncle of my wife's died in 1877.

GEORGE GREENHAM (Police Inspector). I prepared this plan of the basement of No. 4, Euston Square; it is accurate and to scale of one-eighth of an inch to a foot, anybody going from Miss Hacker's room could get into the cellar leading out of the scullery without going outside at all, but if they went into the other cellar, they would have to go into the area.

JOHN EDWARD RICHARDS . I live now at 39, Brook Street, Erith—I formerly kept the Duke of Northumberland, Northumberland Heath, Erith—Severin

Bastendorff was introduced to, me by Mr. digger, and first came to my house in the beginning of 1857—he has come down on Saturdays and Sundays for two years from this time; he began to do so in June or July 1877, when the fruit was about—he generally came on Saturday afternoon about 5 o'clock, and would go out shooting that afternoon round the fruit ground; I used to give him permission to go, and he would retire early, at 10 or 11 o'clock, and be up very early on Sunday morning, and I used to go out with him; he would be out several hours shooting small birds round the fruit ground, and would come home to dinner, and leave on Sunday night—his wife came with him once on a Sunday in the first week in September, 1877—he came down on the Saturday afternoon and brought the little girl, and on the Sunday morning his wife came and brought the little boy, and they stayed till Tuesday—that was the only occasion his wife came in 1877, but she was there in 1878—I recollect his coming down on Saturday evening, October 13, and on the Sunday morning I went out shooting with him—he had a friend named Whipling with him—I went back about 6.30 to get breakfast, leaving him with Whipling and did not see the constable—he remained at Erith till nearly 10 o'clock that night; I left him on Northumberland Heath about 9.30, and I ran and overtook them because a friend of his had brought a string of birds, and then he went to town.

LOUIS WHIPUNG . I am a cabinet maker, of 48, Gower Street—I know Severin Bastendorff, and went shooting with him once two years ago—we went to Erith and got out at Belvedere, between 3 and 4 o'clock—it was Saturday, I don't know the day or the month—we went to a man named Skinner, who kept a public-house—we stayed all night at Northumberland Heath, at an inn kept by Richards, and in the morning we got up at daybreak and went out; Bastendorff had a gun and shot some birds, and I saw a policeman coming and told him so—the policeman charged him with firing too close to the highway—while fee was firing the policeman was about 300 yards off—he said something about a summons, and Bastendorff did not go on with his shooting; we went back to Mr. Richards, and after we had been there some time he went off shooting again—we remained in, the neighbourhood all day and I came back with him—we got to Charing Cross Station shortly after 10 p.m.; I know the public-houses were not closed, they close at 11—we walked to a public-house in St. Martin's Lane to get something to drink; we did not stay long, and then walked home together as far as my house, which is in Gower Flace—it took us about half an hour to walk there from Charing Cross—I wished him good-night and went into my house—we may have gone into another public-house, I cannot recollect.

THOMAS MARTIN (Policeman). I was stationed at Erith in 1877, and remember that autumn seeing a man shooting about 6.40 one morning in the public highway—I reported him at the station—that was on 14th October, 1877—the sergeant has my book, but that was the date—I attended before the Magistrate; this (produced) is the summons I took out—it was the 14th—he was fined.

HENRV BAKER . I am a clerk to Moses and Sons, Tottenham Court Road—on 13th October, 1877, we sold a boy's coat to a person named Bastendorff, of 4, Euston Square, and I have the parcels book here—it is signed for on the same date "H. Dobbs."

ELIZABETH PEARCE . I am a widow, of 17, Charrington Street—I am Mrs. Severin Bastendorffs mother, and used to go to 4, Euston Square, to

see her and go into the kitchen—in the autumn of 1877 the prisoner gave me the watch produced to get cleaned, as I had a lodger who did that, and Mrs. Bastendorff considered I could get it done cheaper—I cannot give you the date—I gave it to David Rose to get cleaned, he returned it to me, in a short time, I paid him and I gave it back to the prisoner, who paid me and I gave the money to Rose—I saw her wearing a watch and chain in the autumn of 1877; I cannot recognise this chain—I told her I thought it looked very out of place for her to wear jewellery in the presence of lodgers—she did not seem pleased—I also saw her with an eyeglass like this, but it was not broken then—I had it in my hand and looked at it, thinking it belonged to an old gentleman and might suit me.

DAVID ROSE . I am a working silversmith, and have lodged for seven years in the same house as Mrs. Pearce, who gave me a watch to get cleaned in the autumn of 1877—I believe this to be it—I cannot speak to a nearer date—I gave it to Mr. Jenchner, who has a shop in Crown Street, Soho, who works for the trade, so that I got it done cheaper—his apprentice, I believe, cleaned it—I paid for it, took it back to Mrs. Pearce, who paid me what I had paid—a great many persons who clean watches make marks on them showing the month or the year when it is done—I can see an anchor here, and 901, and 10.77.

JULIUS JENCHNER . I am a watchmaker, of Crown Street, Soho—a year and eight months ago Mr. Rose brought me an old watch to clean—I remember this watch—my apprentice, who is dead, cleaned it, and I gave it back to Rose—it is customary for watchmakers who clean watches to mark them, but for trade jobs I do not mark—here is a mark in the case of this watch, "10.77.J."—my apprentice may have scratched that—I cannot say—I can also see "Ackers, 901," and one word which I cannot decipher.

(On examination with a magnifying glass the word "Acker," 901, appeared in one place and "Hackers "in another.)

WILLIAM HAN WELL . I am a worker in bamboo, at 23, Grafton Place, Euston Square—I was in Mr. Bastendorffs service from March, 1870 to the early part of April, 1879—I remember the prisoner and little Peter going away to Bideford as I understood; that is where her friends lived—I think that was some time after the bank holiday—I repaired an old-fashioned gold chain for her; I think just before she went away—it was broken in two or three places—I twisted a little metal wire in the links—it had a key attached, but no watch—I saw a watch and chain on her about that time; the watch had a metal face, but I did not look at it—this is the chain I repaired—it has since broken, I do not know whether at the places I repaired, because it is tied with cotton—she said that her uncle had left it to her, and I believed her—some time after her return from Bideford I saw her with another watch, a smaller one, and I think she voluntarily told me that her sister had died and left it, to her, or that her brother would prefer her having it to anybody else—I also saw a locket and neck-chain which I had not seen previously—I looked at them but did not examine them—I also saw two rings, she was either taking them off or putting them on—they were not on her fingers—I just looked at them, that is all—I should not know them again.

WILLIAM PARTINGTON . I am assistant to Mr. Thompson, of 155, Drummond Street, Euston Square, pawnbroker—this gold-faced watch was pawned there on 5th November, 1877, for 1l., in the name of Rosina

Bastindo, 8, Drummond Street, and never redeemed—I have no recollection of seeing the person—it was put up for sale on February 21, 1879, but not bought, and it remained in my master's possession, and was subsequently given up to Inspector Hagan—this gold chain with a watch attached and a necklet and locket were pledged by the prisoner on 28th March, 1878, in the name of Rosina Bastindo, 4, Euston Square—I took them in and lent her 2l. 10s. on them—they remained with us till given up to the police some time this year.

JOHN EDWARD THOMPSON . I am a pawnbroker, of 155, Drummond Street—this ticket, dated 5th November, 1877, is in Mr. Partington's writing—it relates to an old-fashioned gold watch, the larger of the two, the vertical one—it was put up for sale on 21st February this year, and bought in by me—it remained in my possession till the beginning of May this year, when I took it to my brother Frederick with a lot of other jewellery—I kept the other watch and chain until I gave them up to the police—I know that the ticket relates to this watch—I distinctly recollect the watch—there is no mark on the ticket to show it.

FREDERICK JOHN THOMPSON . I am a pawnbroker, of Roman Road, Barnsbury, and am the brother of the last witness—he brought me about the end of April, this year, an old-fashioned gold watch with a lot of goods—I have got the note he sent with them—this is the watch—I kept it till I gave it to the policeman.

HANNAH EARLS . I live at 68, Cromer Street, St. Pancras—I am a laundress—in the autumn of 1877 I washed for Mrs. Bastendorff and a lady that lived there at that time—I only received the lady's washing two weeks, and the prisoner told me on a Monday, at about 11 o'clock, that the lady had left in a hurry, and there were no clothes that week—I cannot tell what month that was in, not taking any notice—I do not think it was Midsummer—the articles were underclothing—I generally went about 11 a.m.—I afterwards continued to wash for Mrs. Bastendorff, and after a time for some other lodgers there named Willoughby and Bowie—I began to wash for them I think about a week or a fortnight after I had the lady's things for the last time, or very soon after—I got these clothes from the prisoner, and saw her wearing a gold chain, which attracted my attention—I did not see a watch attached—that was after she told me that the lady had left, but I cannot say how long after—I said "It does not look very well for a servant to wear that in her work, and if you go to the door you perhaps may lose it, or have it snatched from you"—she made no answer—I understood from her that her uncle had left it to her—I said "I never saw Mrs. Bastendorff wear such a thing in the house"—I remember the prisoner giving me 8, 9, or 10 beautiful handkerchiefs to wash; I said that she might wear them longer and have them washed after, for they did not appear dirty as if they had been used; however I washed them—that was some time after she said that the lady had left, and I think it was after I began washing for Willoughby and Bowie—this is one of them (produced), but they were better than this, and not so large some of them—I did not observe it, but here is something worked in the corner—I do not know whether it is "H"—the prisoner paid me herself for washing that lot of handkerchiefs—I remember her going away for a holiday with little Peter, and I think she gave me these handkerchiefs before that—she did not speak to me about going, but I noticed a person there after she went to the country, and that was my reason for supposing she had gone.

Cross-examined. I sometimes went into the kitchen for the washing, but cannot recollect whether I did on that occasion, it is so long ago—I wash for a great many other people, and collect it on a Monday—the handkerchiefs were very new, as if they were fresh from a box—I think they had been bought at a shop—I think they had been used; I did not notice a shop-mark on them.

Re-examined. To the best of my belief they had been used and washed and kept folded up some time without being used.

JOHN WRIGHT . I now live at 57, Sparsholt Road, Crouch Hill—I formerly lived at 67, George Street, Euston Square, and took in lodgers—a woman lived on my top floor last autumn, but I never saw her—I do not know whether my wife detained some of her boxes when she went away, or whether they were left, but I believe she did not pay her rent when she went away—my wife is very ill indeed, and not in a fit state to give evidence—even if persons went to her where she now is, to question her, I do not think she would be able to give evidence—when we left George Street and went to our present house those two boxes were taken with us, and my wife afterwards gave them up to the police inspector.

LOUISA BARKER . I live at 61, Margaret Street, Cavendish Square—on 3rd November, 1878, I entered Mrs. Bastendorffs service as general servant and remained there seven weeks; that was nearly to the end of December—I often went in and out of the cellar; there was coal and rubbish and straw there, and in the left-hand corner there was a heap of something, apparently coal—I used not to go far in—I took the first coal I could get at, that which was nearest the door—when I was shovelling up some coal one day I came upon three or four towels, one or two of which were rotten—I do not think the others were so bad—I did not know of the body being there before I left.

PETER BASTERDORFF . I am Severin's brother, and work now in bamboo—in the autumn of 1877 I lived in Hampstead Road, and worked for Mr. Dixon, a cabinet-maker—I was in the habit of going to my brother's in Euston Square—I cannot say when the prisoner went there first, but I believe it was in 1877—after she had lived there some time I kept company with her—I remember her going away with little Peter to see her friends—I cannot tell in what month it was; she was away, I believe, three or four days; I kept company with her before that; I believe I began to keep company with her about Christmas, 1876, or the beginning of 1877, and I did so still when she left my brother's service; she left once before for a month; I understood she left for good, but she came back, and then after being there some time she left altogether, some time last year—I know nothing of Miss Huish—I remember my brother going to Erith on 14th October, 1877, and getting summoned for shooting on Sunday morning—I was not in the house at all that day, I was down at Maidstone, at East Farleigh—I went there on the Saturday with my youngest brother Antony; we got back about 12 o'clock on Sunday evening—I know that the prisoner's father and mother lived at Bideford.

Cross-examined. I know John Johnson; he did not make a communication to me about the prisoner and my brother, but I heard that my brother had spoken to Mrs. Johnson and another friend, and said that he used to go with Hannah Dobbs; I do not know where, but I spoke to her about it the next day—I did not cease going to see her, but I told her several times of it—I always considered that there was something between the two one way

or other, and complained to her of what was taking place between them, and told my brother of it as well—I never saw my brother out with her.

ANTONY BASTERDORFF . I am a brother of Severin and Peter—on a Saturday evening in 1877, about 4 o'clock, I went down to East Farleigh with Peter; we stopped there the whole of Sunday; it was the same Sunday that my brother got summoned for shooting on the highway—we returned home on the Sunday night at 12 o'clock.

JOSEPH BASTENDORFF . I am a brother of Severin, and live at Charlton—I lived there in October, 1877.

Cross-examined. My brother gave me a basket-trunk three weeks after Christmas; he brought some baskets into the shop, and I said "I want to have a basket like that"—he said "Take one if you like"—he did not say who gave it to him, or where he bought it.

JAMES HAMLIN . I live at Newton Tracey, near Bideford and Barnstaple, and am the prisoner's uncle; her father and mother are alive, and live at Bideford—I am her mother's brother; there are only three of us; my only brother's name is John; he is here—we came up together—the prisoner's father has a brother, George Dobbs; he lives, I think, at Frimmington, near Bideford; I heard that the prisoner was at home about two years back, but I did not see her—about a year and three-quarters ago an uncle of hers by marriage, who lived at Newton Tracey, died; it was a little after harvest, I think—ho had married my sister—he left a widow and five children; his widow is now dead, but she lived some months after him; he was a nurseryman.

DR. PEPPER (Recalled by Mr. Mead). 'I heard the reference yesterday to a varicose vein—the effect of a varicose vein suddenly bursting would depend upon the size of the vein; if it was a large one it might possibly cause death in a short time—I have seen one death from it, not a death immediately, but in a few days, from the effects of the loss of blood—there would be a very profuse flow of blood if a large vein was opened, sufficient to account for a much larger stain than I saw on the carpet—the vein would not cause inflammation, it would be diseased first—that might give rise to ulceration of the soft parts of the leg; that might account for the appearance of the bone that I saw; it is one of the causes of thickening of the bone—the immediate cause of thickening of the bone is inflammation—the condition of the bone I saw was not consistent with the results from a varicose vein; it may burst, and there may never be an ulcer at all—you must not confound a varicose vein with a varicose ulcer; you must have a varicose vein before you have the ulcer, the ulcer must result from the vein—if there were such an ulcer it would be consistent.

By the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. Suppuration from the ulcer is more likely in that part of the leg than any other—inflammation, if set up there, would produce thickening of the bone—inflammation may arise from any other cause than varicose vein, any local cause, for instance a kick would do it, or any constitutionul cause—there was nothing to show that this lady was suffering from varicose vein—the bone was quite bare—if she had been suffering from a varicose vein it might burst and cause a profuse spilling of blood—varicose veins give rise to a sense of weight and fulness in the leg, that is where they are not inflamed, very likely they become inflamed, then they are exceedingly painful—I don't think that persons suffering from varicose veins would be likely to complain to those about them of pain or

inconvenience unless the rein became inflamed, that Would be sure to give rise to lameness, and probably to a good deal of pain.

By the COURT. I should not expect an instantaneous effect from a varicose vein bursting—it would probably take some time—the patient would gradually sink from loss of blood—in the only case I Saw, death occurred in two or three days—death would ensue within twelve hours if the bleeding went on, but it would not be likely to go on for twelve hours, because the patient would be almost sure to call for assistance, or become faint and fall down, and then the bleeding would cease; the horizontal position would tend to stop the bleeding—the sudden application Of constricting force to the windpipe would produce great congestion, the patient would become black in the face—that might result from the bursting of a vein, not of a main vessel, but of a number of small ones—the bleeding from that would not be sufficient to relieve the patient: it would not be sufficient to cause death—there would not be a considerable flow of blood from that, only an oozing—it would not cause the rupture of a large vessel—it would be very difficult to form an opinion as to the quantity of blood that had been spilt on the carpet; I should say at least 4 oz.—there was a great deal of blood in the substance of the carpet—it was not only the stain the carpet was quite stiff, the whole piece that was stained, and that would not have taken place if the blood had been very much diluted with water.

ROBERT VERMULIN . I am chief Warder at Her Majesty's prison at Westminster—I returned with the prisoner and a female warder, Frances Hawkins, from the police—court on June 5; and on the way to the prison she said there had been a lodger of the name of Finlay, living in the house in Euston Square, and he was in the habit of carrying a seven—chambered pistol loaded—she also stated that he had Committed a murder, and wanted to confide the secret to her keeping, and offered her 50l. to go to America with him, but she refused—I gave information of that statement the next day to Mr. Thomas—she also said she had pawned an article for the purpose of clearing off Mr. Bastendorff's bastardy debt.

Cross-examined. This conversation took place in a four—wheel cab—there was a great noise, a large number of persons following the vehicle—I think she did not say some one had told her that Mr. Finlay had done this—if she had said so I think I should have heard it, as I was sitting opposite to her.

FRANCES HAWKINS . I am a warder at Westminster Prison—I was also in the cab, and heard the prisoner make the statement just mentioned—she said the second—floor lodger, Mr. Finlay, always carried revolver against robbers, and that he had offered her 50l. to keep a secret and she refused—she said Mr. Finlay wanted her to go to America with him.

Cross-examined. That was all I heard—I was sitting by the side of the prisoner.

INSPECTOR HAGAN (Re-examined). On May 12, 1879, in consequence of inquiries made, I went to see the prisoner; Inspector Gatling was with me—I made a memorandum of what she said to me—I first asked her "How long were you in Mr. Bastendorff's service at 4, Euston Square?—"she answered "About two years"—I said "Do you remember any of the lodgers that were in the house?"—"Yes, I do—severel of them"—at this time there was not the least suspicion attaching to the prisoner—I said "What were their names?"—she replied "Brooks, Kiggenbach, Lefler, and some more—I said "Were they ladies or gentlemen?"—she replied "Both"—I said

"Do you remember any single ladies lodging there?"—she said "Yes"—I said "Do you remember one with short curls?"—she said "Yes, there was one on the second—floor front room"—I said "How long was she there?"—she replied "About six weeks or two months"—I said "How long is that ago?"—she said "About two years"—I inquired her age, and she said about fifty, or more; I said "What coloured hair had she?" to which she replied "Greyish"—I said "Was it not fair?"—she replied "No, it was grey; she wore it in short curls"—I asked whether she knew her name, she said "No, I don't know now; but I'll try and think of it"—I asked if she saw her go away, and she said "No, I didn't; because I had to go out sometimes with the children; I went once with them to Hampstead Heath, and I rather think that was when the old lady went away"—I asked how she used to dress; she answered "She dressed very smartly when she went out; she used to wear a blue silk dress, with a white hat and large feather in it; in the house she dressed very shabbily; she wore a black satin quilted petticoat; she wore a lot of lace about her head"—I asked if she had a waterproof cloak; she said "Yes, she had; she was a very mean woman, and would only have fourpenny ale; she used to send for a glass with three farthings; I did not like to go myself, so I gave the boy a farthing to go; I once had to ask her for the rent; Bastendorff"—told me if I did not like to go he would—I went, and the old lady gave me a 5l. note to get changed—I don't know who went to change it, I or Bastendorff"—I said "Are you quite sure—the hair was grey and not light?"—she said "Yes; quite sure"—I asked her if she often went to the coal-cellar, and she said every day—I said "Did you ever notice anything wrong there?"—"No"—"Did you ever notice any bad smell there?"—"No"—I said "There has been a dead body found there; do you know anything about it?"—she replied "A body—a body in the coal-cellar! I am sure I never saw anything in there"—I said "Then you can throw no light on it?" and she said "No, I cannot;" afterwards I saw her again, and she said she remembered the old lady's name, it was Miss Hacker—"she told me she came up to collect her rents"—I said "Was not the name Huish?"—she said "No, it was Hacker"—I said "Had she plenty of money?"—she answered "I don't know; she had a gold watch and chain, which she wore on Sundays; I am sure now I was with the children at Hampstead; when I got back I was told she had gone, and had left a shilling for me"—I said "Who told you that?"—she said "Mrs. Bastendorff"—she continued "After the lady had gone I found her dream-book in a drawer, and I gave it to Mrs. Bastendorff; she used always to be reading that book"—on May 14th I took the prisoner to the mortuary—I told her she was going to see the remains of the lady; I asked if she was sure she was at Hampstead on the day the lady went away?—she replied that she was—I showed her the articles, and she said "Those are all like the things Miss Hacker used to wear in the house, especially the lace, but they are in such a state now"—I showed her the hair; she said "The hair is not Miss Hacker's; hers was decidedly grey"—I showed her the brooch and buckle, and she knew nothing about them—I said "Then you say the things are like what Miss Hacker wore, but the hair is not, hers was grey"—she said "Yes, that is it"—I received two watches and a chain from a pawn-broker, the cash—box from Mr. Bastendorff, also the dream—book and the basket—trunk—the buckle and brooch I found with the remains—I cut out a piece of the carpet in the second—floor front at No. 4; I gave it to Mr. Bond in the first instance, and afterwards to Dr. Pepper—I got some boxes rom Mr.

Wright, and from those boxes I took the pocket-handkerchief and eyeglass—I asked Mrs. Bastendorff to point out to me the place where the bed used to stand—the stain was at the side of the bed—there was a stain on the floor corresponding with the one on the carpet.

Cross-examined. It was in consequence of what the prisoner told me that I was enabled in a great measure to trace Miss Hacker.

DR. PEPPER (Re-examined). I saw the way in which the rope was embedded in the neck—I did not see the rope; I saw the wound; it was as broad as my little finger.

DR. DAVIS (Re-examined). I saw a portion of the rope in the flesh; it was over the back, and almost as forward as the ears—I could not judge how tightly the neck had been compressed, except from the deep depression—it must have been very firmly and tightly tied round there—that would be sufficient to produce death—it could not fail to produce death if it was kept on; it could not fail to cause strangulation.

MR. MEAD submitted that there was no ease to go to the Jury on the charge of murder as, deduced, from the medical evidence, death might have arisen from natural causes.

MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS held that the case must go to the Jury.


FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, July 2nd, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-627

627. HENRY HAYES* (27) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Mary Marshall, and stealing therein a key and 1s., her goods, and a purse, two postage stamps, and 5s., the goods of Harriett Howland, having been previously convicted of felony.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. And

Reference Number: t18790630-628

628. JAMES WILSON (36) to obtaining moneys by false pretences from Samuel Symes and others, with intent to defraud.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, July 3rd, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-629

629. EMILY HAMES (31) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying Henry Berry during the life of her husband.— To enter into recognisances to appear and receive judgment if called upon. And

Reference Number: t18790630-630

630. TONEY MARTIN (25) to burglary in the dwelling—house of Eugene Cizzio, and stealing a watch, his property.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

NEW COURT.—Friday, July 4th, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18790630-631

631. EDWARD CRADDOCK (41) , Being a trustee of three several legacies for the benefit of Beatrice Ann Wilcox, did unlawfully convert 656l. 1s. 6d. to his own use.

MR. A. B. KELLY and MR. RAVEN Prosecuted; and MR. WILLIAMS and MR. NICHOLSON Defended. In consequence of the attestation clause to the deed constituting the prisoner a trustee not being signed by witnesses.

MR. WILLIAMS contended that the prisoner had no power to commit the offence, in which the COURT concurred, and MR. KELLY withdrew from the prosecution.


Reference Number: t18790630-632

632. EDWARD CRADDOCK was again indicted for stealing a cheque value 956l. 2s. 6d., the property of John Watson and another, upon which MR. A. B. KELLY offered no evidence.


Reference Number: t18790630-633

633. GEORGE HAYNES (32) , Maliciously inflicting grievous bodily harm upon Frederick Green.

MR. PURCBLL Prosecuted; and MR. M. WILLIAMS Defended.

FREDERICK GREEN . I live at Sloane Street, and have a daughter named Elizabeth, who is just 17—in February and March she was assisting me in my shop in Sloane Square—I saw the prisoner come in with a woman—they brought an umbrella to be repaired and bought a dog collar—the woman said to my daughter "Oh, miss, would you like to have an order to see Professor Pepper's Ghost?" she said "Yes," and the woman said "I will send you one"—they left, an order was sent, and my daughter went out that evening—I went out at 10 o'clock—my daughter came home about 12.30—I let her in; she was accompanied by the prisoner and the same woman—I said "You have no right to keep my child out till this hour of the night," and slammed the door in his face—after that my daughter went out on several other evenings, and returned very late; there was quite an alteration in her—on Wednesday, 30th April, I let her go out about 9.30 p. m.—she returned about 12.30 or 12.45 in a perfect state of drunkenness, with the prisoner—I went into her bedroom next morning and insisted on knowing where she went to—I reprimanded her for going out, and took a cane and hit her over her arm because she would not give me any information—she went out of the house about 10.30 or 11 o'clock, and did not come back that evening—in consequence of something the errand boy said I went next day to the prisoner's house in Oakley Crescent about 9 o'clock with Mr. Pearce—the prisoner was out; we waited in the hall; he came in with two other men and my daughter—I got hold of her hand and said "Lizzie, what business have you to be in this man's house?"—the prisoner deliberately put the chain on the door and said "I will see you b——before you go out or take her away, because she is over age and you have no jurisdiction over her"—he pushed her into a side room—I said "I will go out and get a policeman"—Pearce went towards the door; the prisoner knocked him down and said "You shall not open my b——door"—Pearce got up and opened the door, and the prisoner took his coat off, turned round to me, and said "Now I will settle you"—he ducked his head into my stomach, took me by the legs, and threw me down like a baby, kicked me on the back of my ear, and the blood shot out like a fountain—I was stunned for a moment—I no sooner got on my legs again than he was forcing his fingers into my throat—he tore my collar off, and tore my cravat to pieces, and a constable came and separated us—I said in the prisoner's hearing "I have not come here to make a disturbance, I want my child out of this house"—he said he would not let me take her away; the policeman said "How old is she?"—I said "Seventeen"—he said "Then I cannot interfere, as she is over age"—she then came out of the ante-room with the woman the prisoner lives with, who took her up into the drawing-room—I told the policeman I would not leave without my child if he killed me—the woman said to her "Come on upstairs," and dragged her upstairs—I went up into the drawing—room with the sergeant—I afterwards left the house, and a summons was taken out against the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I did not object to my daughter taking the order for the Polytechnic, because she had accepted it and I was out when it came and did not know she was going—I do not know whether the woman is a performer at the Polytechnic—my daughter had her things on when I caned her; her arms were not bare, she had a black dress on; that is the girl that I caned (Pointing to his daughter). She left the house about two hours after I caned her, she did not tell me that she was bruised; she was bruised, she was black and blue; when I went to the prisoner's house he did not tell me that my daughter came to him with a mass of bruises and he had taken her to a doctor; he produced a bottle from his pocket—I don't know what it was—when I tried to get to my daughter she did not run behind him for protection—she would have come home no doubt if he had not assaulted me—there were two men outside, but they saw nothing of it because the door was shut—my daughter has not complained to me from time to time that I made her life a misery, we lived on the most happy terms—the prisoner did not say when he brought her home, "Don't be cross with your daughter staying out so late, because if it is anybody's fault it is ours, but we came straight home"—she went upstairs to bed at once—I did not beat her with the handle of the stick, but with the cane—it was not with the butt-end of it—it was a cane my boy had at school, it was not as thick as my finger—I did not go downstairs and fetch another stick, the cane was in her bedroom—I did not take hold of her arm when I was trying to get her out of the prisoner's house, saying, "Now I have got you"——the prisoner did not say, "I have taken your daughter to a doctor to—day, she has a certificate and a lotion for her arm, and if you do it again she will summon you"—I did not then catch him by the neck and throw him on the ground, I never put my fingers upon him—I don't know whether Pearce brought two police—men back with him, as I was inside—on my oath I never put my fingers on the prisoner, all I wanted was my child—I had Information what sort of a character the prisoner was, and I would not leave her there.

FREDERICK PEARCE . I live at 46, King's Road—on Thursday night, 1st May, I accompanied Mr. Green to the prisoner's house in Oakley Crescent; I was inside when he came in with Mr. Green's daughter behind him and two men—Mr. Green collared his daughter by the arm and said, "Lizzie, what business have you here?"—the prisoner said, "You leave her alone, she has got nothing to do with you, she has passed your control, she is in mine now"—Mr. Green would not leave go of her and said, "Pearce, open the door and fetch a policeman"—the prisoner had his back to the door with the chain on; he fastened the chain with his hands behind him—I went up to him to go out and he struck me on the ear, and two or three times on the breast, and knocked me down; I got up; he palled off his coat and said to Mr. Green, "Now you b——I will settle you," rushed at him, caught him by the legs and threw him over, and then kicked him some—where about the upper part of his body—the laughter screamed out, "For God's sake don't kill my father" and caught hold of the prisoner—I rushed to the door, unfastened it, and got out; I returned with Dawson, a policeman, and the prisoner had then got hold of Green, who was bleeding from his ear and mouth, and he was ducking, not standing right up, but half way up; his collar was torn off; he said, "I want my daughter?"—Dawson said "What age is she?"——he said, "Between 16 and 17"—Dawson said, "If she is over 16 you cannot take her"—the daughter was then in the room with

Miss Clifford, I believe her name is, that is the woman who is living with him; we left the house and a summons was taken out for the assault on me.

Cross-examined. I went there with Mr. Green to inquire whether his daughter had been there the previous evening, as she been brought home drunk; we knocked at the door, a servant opened it, we went inside, and waited—I did not swear before the Magistrate that the two men came in with the prisoner and Miss Green—I swore that Haynes and Miss Green came in—I did not say that he opened the door with a latch-key the other two men were not there when the assault was committed—the door was shut and the chain on it at that time, and they could not have seen if they were outside—I caught hold of the girl afterwards, and she would have come with me, only this woman Clifford caught hold of her and said "Don't you go, Lizzie," and Haynes pushed them both in and locked the door—Mr. Green did not strike the prisoner; he had not the chance—the prisoner did not say in my presence that he had taken the girl to a doctor.

STEWART MACDONALD . I am a surgeon, of 54, Belgrave Road—I examined Mr. Green on 2nd May, and found a very severe bruise in the external ear and the surrounding tissues—there was no appearance of bleeding from the external wound, but there were some drops of blood in the ear—the bruise Lid produced extravasation of blood into the tissues—it was quite black—that must have been the result of considerable violence—it is very unlikely that that injury was produced by a blow from a fist; it would require something much harder—it might be produced by a kick—that is a most dangerous part of the head to receive a blow in—he complained of a considerable amount of pain in his ear, and said that he could not sleep—it produced most serious consequences, but I believe he has recovered.

Cross-examined. I saw him by chance; I was not sent for—I was attending Mr. Dutton, his lawyer, and he asked me to look at his ear—I had never seen him before—I saw him again once, next day, in my consulting-room—if he had come violently against the end of the ballusters that might have caused the bruise.

EDWARD DAWSON (Policeman T 192). On 3rd May, about 10 p.m., I was called to Oakley Crescent—a man named Pepper spoke to me and left; I afterwards saw Mr. Pearce, who called me—I knocked at the door; it was opened, and I saw the prisoner in the passage holding Mr. Green by the throat—they were on their feet in a stooping position—I got between them and parted them—Green was bleeding from the ear, and his shirt collar was broken right open—I picked up a necktie in the hall, and asked him if it was his; he said yes, and took it—he said that he wanted his daughter out of the house, and that the prisoner had enticed her from home—I asked his daughter's age—he said, 17—I said that I could not interfere, and referred him to the Magistrate—Haynes said that he had taken the girl under his protection through her father's assaulting her, and that he had got a doctor's certificate, and he produced a white lotion—the daughter was standing at the front parlour door with a woman.

Cross-examined. Pepper spoke to me first, and in consequence of what he said I went towards the defendant's house.

MR. WILLIAMS called.

ELIZABETH GREEN . I am the daughter of Frederick Green—I remember the prisoner coming into my father's shop with a woman, who I have since ascertained to be a Miss Clifford—she offered to send me an order for the

polytechnic, which she afterwards brought—I went there by myself; and saw her performing there—she and the defendant saw me home, but we stopped late, as there was a supper going on—my father opened the door, and the prisoner asked him to excuse my being late, as there had been a supper, and said that we had come straight home—my father slammed the door in his face—on the subsequent Wednesday night I asked my father's leave to go out after supper; he gave it, and I went out about a quarter to 10 o'clock, and went to Oakley Crescent, where Miss Clifford was living—I saw her there, and came home about 12.30 by myself—my father opened the door and I went upstairs—he came into my room next morning, and beat me with the handle end of a parasol stick which was in my bedroom, and braised my shoulder and arm—my dress was off, and as soon as I had finished dressing myself he came upstairs again and beat me with a cane—I ran downstairs and went to Oakley Crescent, where I saw Mr. Haynes and Miss Clifford and Mr. Pepper—I went into the dining-room, and made a complaint about the injuries I had received, and Mr. Haynes took me to Dr. Cockerton, who gave me some lotion—we went to Mr. Humphreys's place, and he went with us to the doctor—when we came back we went to the Pier Hotel, and Mr. Haynes sent for Pepper, and then we all went to Oakley Crescent, and found my father in the passage, and Mr. Pearce—Humphreys and Pepper came inside at first—my father caught hold of my arm and said "Come on home"—I said "I won't come home to be knocked about again"—Mr. Haynes said "I have taken your daughter to the doctor to-day; she has a certificate for her arm and some lotion, and if you do not mind she will summons you"—the street door was then open—I ran behind Mr. Haynes, and my father caught hold of him by the throat, and they fought in the passage—Mr. Haynes said "Fetch me a policeman," and Mr. Pepper fetched two—I do not remember the door being shut till after he left—I went into the dining-room with Miss Clifford of my own will and afterwards up to the drawing-room—it is not true that Miss Clifford dragged me up, nor did she take me up—a police sergeant came and asked me if I would go home with my father—I said "No, I won't go home to be killed"—I did not see ray father kicked by Mr. Haynes because they were on the floor—I had been beaten two or three times before that; it has generally been with his hand.

Cross-examined. I saw Haynes the first night I went to the Polytechnic, and I saw him two or three times between then and the Wednesday, not more—I had brandy and soda there—I was quite sober when I came homo after 12—I was alone with Miss Clifford that evening—Haynes was not with us the latter part of the evening—when I went in on this evening I did not see the door chained—I went into the dining-room; Miss Clifford was there—I did not see the prisoner standing with his back to the door—I do not remember seeing Pearce there—the door was open when I came out and' saw them struggling on the ground in the passage—my father was bleeding from the ear—I think Haynes was undermost, but I cannot say for certain—I have not been living at Oakley Crescent at all since Haynes has been committed for trial, nor in the same house with him—I was not living in the same house with him a fortnight ago, that I swear—I have only written one letter to him—I heard him say that my character was very bad—this is the letter I wrote to the prisoner. (Read: "146, Sloane Street June 20, 1879. Sir,—I believe you told Mr. D. yesterday that I was a prostitute;

how dare you make such an assertion? I demand an apology instantly.—Yours truly, E. Green.") I did not show that letter to my father, but he knew afterwards that I had written it—he did not know I was going to write it—I sent no enclosure with it—I will swear that this pink paper was not enclosed in it—the prisoner's Christian name is George—this is my writing. (This was written on a bill-heading of F. Green, portmanteau and trunk maker. "Darling George,—Do you think it will do? I have done it the best way I can think of. With best loveto you, and hoping you are not cross with me, believe me to remain yours till death, Lily. To Mr. Dudley, Post-office, 161, Sloane Street P.S.—Please give my love to Alice. If you like you can write to me at the post-office. Put on it' To be kept till called for.'")

MR. WILLIAMS here withdrew from the defence.

GUILTY . The police stated that the prisoner was a brothel-heeper, and had been fined for assaulting the police , and the prosecutor stated that since the prisoner had been charged he kid been at his house several times waiting with a gang to get his daughter away and send her out as a prostitute, and had got into a neighbour's garden for thatpurpose.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18790630-634

634. JOSEPH BAY (20) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Andrew Hill, and stealing a box containing 3l. 10s., his moneys.

MR. GEOGHEGAN Prosecuted.

ANDREW HILL . I am an umbrella maker, of 38, Mitchell Street, St. Luke's, and have known the prisoner about five years—on 26th May he came to my shop—he said "Andrew, how are you getting on?"—I said "All right, Joseph"—I took him into my front parlour—I had in a chest of drawers seven half-sovereigns and a two-shilling piece—I took out the 2s.—I showed him the money, and he saw me place it in the drawer again in a little box—the drawer was not locked—on Saturday night, 31st May, I went out at 9.45—I shut the parlour window and shutters, and left a lamp burning—my children slept in the parlour—I returned at 12.45; I found the front door all right and the parlour door also—Eliza Bradmore said something to me, and on turning up my lamp I found two drawers pulled open and my box and money gone.

ELIZA BRADMORE . I live at Mr. Hill's house—on Saturday night, 31st May, about 11 o'clock, I was standing at the front door and saw the prisoner come out of the front parlour window with another man—they passed me—there was a lamp, and I could see their faces—they ran down the street—they loft the window and shutters open; I closed them afterwards—next morning I was taken to the station, and was there shown six men; I picked out the prisoner as one of the men that came out of the window.

JOHN RILEY (Policeman G 97). I took the prisoner in custody on 7th June in Old Street, St. Luke's; I told him the charge—he said I had made a mistake, it was not him; he knew nothing of it—he was taken to the station; I fetched the last witness; the prisoner was placed with five other men, and she identified him.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.

FOURTH COURT.—Friday, July 1th, 1879.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18790630-635

635. FRANK CAFFEBY (22) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Thomas Hembery, and stealing therein 15s. 6d. MR. PURCELL Prosecuted.

JOHN THOMAS HRMDRJSY . I am a licensed victualler, and keep the Caledonian Anus, Islington—the prisoner has been in my service as barman about nine weeks; he was discharged about the 7th January—on the morning of the 21st I went to bed about 2 o'clock, when the house was ail secure—there is a window in the tap-room with two sliding shutters, but the screw does not fit, and it appeared to have been pushed out from the outside, and the prisoner knew of this—when I came down in the morning I found all the spirit taps, 12 in number, turned on, and the floor flooded—I examined the till, and found that 15s. 6d. in old coppers were gone—I saw the prisoner about a week before; he had made application to me for a character since he left—after examining my premises I communicated with the police.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I got up a little before 6 o'clock that morning—I keep the dog in the bar; it is a bad tempered one—I remember Baying before the Magistrate that it has been very ferocious lately—the potman fastened the shutters that night about 11 o'clock; there was somebody in the tap-room, and anybody could have taken that screw out—I did not miss anything else from the bar—I do not know whether you had any old copper coin in your possession when searched; I keep money in the bar; I had not a very good character with you—I discharged you at a moment's notice; you Sued me for your week's wages, and recovered—I remember; prosecuting a barman; he had six months' imprisonment, and has not long been out of prison—I was in Court, and was called as a witness on another occasion when a man got three months—I don't know that bad characters came into the tap-room—I don't recollect a woman being robbed of her wedding ring at Christmas time—I have not said that I gave you in charge to prevent your getting a situation—I have spoken of you as as I found you, that you were a good barman, but rather quick tempered—between four and five months I have had two potmen and two barmen—I will swear there was 30l. worth of spirits in the place—I am the proprietor; the house does, not belong to Mr. Russell—I did not tell Mr. Jefferies that I was only the manager—you summoned me in the name of the manager, and I appeared to it.

EMILY CREWE . I am the wife of Charles Crewe, of 5, Frederick Street, Caledonian Road—I knew the prisoner as being in the employ of Mr. Hembrey—I last saw him there about 12 p.m. on 20th May—he was outside, and was looking through the shutter-hole, where the bolt goes—I said "Good evening, young man; what are you up to?"—he said "Good evening, how are you?—I said "All right, thank you"—he said "Don't say I was out aide?"—my husband was outside, and I went away with him.

Cross-examined. I had been at the Caledonian Arms about two hours—I am generally there every night; my husband uses that public-house; I had been drinking; I am sure it was you; you were dressed in an overcoat—I did not think it extraordinary seeing you look in—I did not know that you lived close by—I have never seen you there before; you turned your face round as I was opening the door, and I recognised you—there was light enough—I know Mr. and Mrs. Whittingham—no one asked me to come here—I told Mr. Hembrey the next morning that I had seen you, and then Mr. Whittingham came for me to see you at the police-station.

Re-examined. I heard of the burglary the next morning.

LOUIS BOWDRY . I live at 27, Southampton Street, Pentonville, and am

a butcher's assistant—I saw the prisoner in the Cornwallis public-house on 21st May, where I asked the barman, in the prisoner's hearing, for 1s. worth of halfpence—the barman said "I have not got any; go to this young man (the prisoner)," and he took them out of his right-hand pocket, and gave me 1s. worth—he had a few more halfpence in his hand besides, and I heard more rattle in his pocket—he asked me if I wanted any more, and I said "No"—about a quarter of an hour after he came into my employer's shop, and asked Miss Miller if she wanted any halfpence—she asked her father, and he said "No," and he left.

Cross-examined. The Cornwallis is about a mile from the Caledonian Arms—this shop is next door to the public-house I saw you at—what I heard was when you put the coppers back into your pocket—I could not walk from the Cornwallis to the Caledonian Arms in five minutes. James Humphreys. I live at 20, Southampton Street, Pentonville, and am a butcher's assistant—I saw the prisoner on the 21st May, in Mr. Miller's shop, at about 9.30—when he came in he said, "Do you want 5s. worth of halfpence?"—I said I did not think so, and he left.

Cross-examined. I did not see you with any coppers—I remember you having some words with the barman that week before this happened, and that you were not good friends with him—I don't know that that is the cause of his appearing against you—I know you have been out of work for some time—I have frequently seen you at the Cornwallis talking to the potman and barman—you did not tell me you had been to the barracks playing "brag."

GEOROE REGAN . I live at 36, New Gloucester Street, and was barman at the Cornwallis on the 21st—the prisoner came in about 8.15 and asked me if I would take 4s. or 5s. worth' of coppers, which I refused, as I bad plenty—the butcher's boy came in and asked me for 1s. worth of coppers—I said "I have not any, the gentleman over there will give you them"—the prisoner took some coppers out of his pocket, gave me 1s. worth, and put the remainder back.

Cross-examined. I have seen you in the Cornwallis as early as 7 am.—I have changed stamps for you before—I thought it was rather funny that you should come in the morning and ask for change of coppers—I don't know how long you have been out of work—I do not know Witham the detective—ho uses the house—I was not before the Magistrate on the first occasion—I left on the following Monday—Witham came to me the day before I heft—I did not point him out to you one day—I did not know that you had no money.

WILLIAM WITHAM (Detective Sergeant Y). On the morning of the 21st May I went to the Caledonian Arms and examined the window and shutter—they were open when I got there, but Mr. Hembrey put the shutters up and the window down, and I saw it as he said it was the night before, and he went round outside and I heard the window go up and heard the bolt come into the room—there were no marks of violence round the bolt—I saw the prisoner between 9 and 10 that evening in the Richmond Arms public-house—I called him out and said, "Have you heard of the Caledonian Arms being broken into?"—he said, "Yes; I have just heard of it"—I told him he was suspected of doing it, as he had been seen by Mrs. Crewe looking In a very suspicious manner into the house at 12 o'clock—he said, "I was not near the Caledonian Arms, I went up the road at 12.30, and went

to bed"—he said he did not know who Mrs. Crewe was—I said there were three sisters and this was the youngest one—I took him to the station and fetched Mrs. Crewe and asked if she knew him, and she said, "Yes, that is Frank"—I asked her where she saw him—she said, "I saw him looking into a house last night at 12 o'clock"—he said, "What is the use of that—you know you did not see me"—I asked him to produce his purse and he did so, and in it there was 4s. in silver, and 8d. in bronze, and eight duplicates (produced), the latest of which is 6th May—the articles are jewellery and wearing apparel—he said his sister had given him some money on Sunday—I asked him if he had changed any coppers that day—he said he had not—I made inquiries at the public-houses and he was eventually released and told he would be reapprehended if there were any further evidence against him—the next evening I reapprehended him—I said, "I am going to take you into custody now for committing that burglary in the Caledonian Arms, I find you have been changing coppers at the Cornwallis public-house"—he said, "Yes; I did change some coppers, and if you had said anything to me about coppers yesterday I would have told you where I got them from"—I said, "It is not too late now"—he said, "I have said quite enough; I will leave you to find out"—I took him to the police-station.

Cross-examined. I heard of this matter when a constable came down to my house on the 21st, between 8 and 9—I did pot know at the time that I lived opposite you—Mr. Hembrey did not tell me—I have been to your lodgings and searched your boxes—I did not find anything that did not belong to you—you showed me what coppers you had—you did not say what your sister gave you the money for—I went to her—she told me she had I given you some money—I did not take a young man to recognise you—I never saw you at the Cornwallis—I was there very nearly a week keeping observation on some parties who will be brought here next session—Mr. Hembrey told me the barman was a friend of yours—when you saw me in the street you did not go half way across the road to meet me—you hung your head and put your hand up before your eyes—you did not turn back—you told me you were going to the Load of Hay public-house, that Mr. Hembrey was going to give you a character for—I did not hear you say at the police-station that you had been to Chelsea Barracks playing cards and that was where you got the money from—I remember the inspector saying soldiers had not much money to treat friends with—I did not see the note you wrote to your sister at the police-station—what was found on you is entered in the book.

Witnesses for the Defence.

MRS. CUNNINGHAM. I heard some one come home between 1 and 2 on the 21st May—you went out again about 7.30 a.m.; you came home between 12 and 1 every night, sometimes sooner.

Cross-examined. I told Detective With am that somebody came in at daylight, but who it was I did not know—I have four lodgers—you owe me three weeks rent—you have been in no employment since you left Mr. Hembrey—you told me you had lost your character.

JAMES COOKE . I saw you in the Black Horse, Leicester Square, on the. night of the 20th May, and you left about 11.30 or 11.45—I saw you pay for two or three pints—I don't know how long it would take you to go from there to the Caledonian Road.

WILLIAM CAFFREY . You were at the Chelsea Barracks with me on the night of the 20th May for about two and a-half or three hours playing cards—there were about nine soldiers there—you won a lot of coppers; perhaps 1s. or 5s. worth, and we went to the Black Horse, Leicester Square—I left you about 9.45.

Cross-examined. I am the prisoner's cousin—I was not at the police-court—he asked me last Tuesday to come here and give evidence—he has often been with me at the barracks before.

HANNAH CAFFREY . On the 18th May I gave you 4s. to have your boots mended.

Cross-examined. I am his sister.


Reference Number: t18790630-636

636. GEORGE WEIGHT alias WHITCROFT (27) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Thomas William Humphries, and stealing therein a purse and money to the amount of 2l. 10s. 6d., the goods and moneys of Sarah Griffiths.

MR. MORRIS Prosecuted.

SARAH GRIFFITHS . I live at 47, Highbury Quadrant, and am manageress of a cloth factory—some time after 11 p.m. on the 28th May I was dis-turbed by seeing a man at my dressing-table in a stooping position—I called out "Jim "twice—I thought it was ray uncle Jim downstairs—he did not answer—I thought he had come in without knocking, and I laid down again—in about ten minutes I was disturbed again, and I heard some strong breathing under my bed—I got up and called out "Jim" again—he did not answer, and I looked the other side of the bed—then I went on my knees and looked over the foot and saw a man's feet—I jumped up and took the key from inside the door and put it outside—I did not lock the door because my little niece sleeps with me, and I called out in Welsh three times, "Jim," and Mr. Humphries and Mr. Thomas came up, and they pulled the prisoner out from under the bed.

Cross-examined. I said notining at the police-court to the effect that I thought it was "my uncle having a lark," or "a bit of a game '—the door was left open when I went to bed—it is a double-bedded room—I always turn the gas down a bit—if there had. been more light on I could have seen it was a stranger—the servant picked up my puree from the side of the bed the following morning—I had not missed it then—the last thing I do when I go to bed is to wind my watch and lay it on the dressing table.

MARY ELIZABETH CARPENTER . I am servant to Mr. Thomas Humphries, of 47, Highbury Quadrant—I have seen the prisoner painting the house—he was working there on the 28th May—I suppose he went away about 6 o'clock—I was upstairs at about 7 o'clock—he came back and said he had come to put the brushes away—I did not go to see what he was doing—I was ironing, and was going out—I afterwards met him in Highbury Vale, and left him about 9.30, and returned to the house and went to bed soon after—after some time I heard Miss Griffiths calling out very loud, and after a while I went up and saw Mrs. Humphries and Mr. Thomas pulling the prisoner out from under the bed—they said he had no boots on, and I went to look for them—I found nothing but his hat outside Miss Griffiths's. belroom door—he was sober.

Cross-examined. I made no proposal to one of the workmen, nor did I offer 61. to get a counsel for you—I did not arrange with you to leave the

window open; the hasp was off—Mr. Humphries went round to see if the house was locked up—the shutters could not be opened except by violence.

Re-examined. The shutters were up when we went to bed, but whether the prisoner took the screw out when he came back at 7 I don't know.

THOMAS WILLIAM HUMPHRIES . I live at 47, Highbury Quadrant—I went to bed between 10 and 11 on the 28th May, and when I was falling asleep I heard my sister-in-law, Miss Griffiths, shout out in Welsh to her uncle that there was a man under the bed—I immediately went up, partly dressed, and followed on the heels of her uncle and my brother-in-law, and we pulled the prisoner out from under her bed—my brother-in-law went for a police-constable, and he was given in charge.

Cross-examined. I have not missed any property—you said you had come after the servant—I don't know whether you were searched on leaving the house.

JAMES THOMAS . I am an accountant of Lincoln, and was on a visit at the house in question—I was the last to come in that night and locked and bolted the front door—all the others had gone to bed—Miss Griffiths came down to the pantry and got my supper as the servants had gone to bed—she went upstairs, and not long after she called out to me to go to bed—I heard her calling out a second time very loudly in Welsh, saying a man was under the bed—I rushed upstairs, and was immediately followed by Mr. Humphries, and we pulled the prisoner out from under the bed—he seemed to me to be in a deep sleep or drunk—I went for a constable, and on my return I found Mr. Humphries had brought him down to the door.

CHARLES AUSTIN (Policeman N 69). I searched the premises and found an entrance had been made by the garden gate at the side of the house, and found marks on the gravel—the parlour window had been opened from the outside and the shutters pulled down, which could be easily done, no catch being on the windows.

Cross-examined. The windows could be opened from the outside without violence.

THOMAS LYONS (Policeman N 467). I was called to the house and found the prisoner at the foot of the stairs—when I went to get hold of him he said: "I am not no prisoner yet," and when I did get hold of him "I have no implements"—I searched and found some boots by the area door in a wet and dirty state—the marks on the gravel and window sill corresponded with them—when you pull down the sash the screw comes out easily.

Cross-examined. I searched you and found on you a 6d. and 2 1/2 d.—the window can be opened outside easily without violence.

The Prisoner's Defence. I am in a very awkward predicament—unfortunately my witness has not come forward—I have never before been in a Court charged with any crime—the witnesses' depositions taken in the police-court give quite a different explanation to what they do now—there was no money found on me—I did not go for any felonious business—I was in good work and earning good money—I went merely after the servant, and if she had eyes she swears falsely.


NEW COURT.—Saturday, July 5th, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18790630-637

637. JOHN GRAHAM GILLING (38) , Forging and uttering a receipt' for 15l., with intent to defraud.

MESSRS. BESLEY and TICKELL Prosecuted; MR. GILL Defended.

JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a dork in the Savings Bank Department of the General Post Office, and live at Oxford Villa, Herbert Road, Shooters' Hill—this (produced) is a deposit book of the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters and Joiners, Paddington Branch, Harrow Road, No 4895—when money is paid in to this account the entry is made in this book, and the clerk at Harrow Road sends it to the General Office, showing the amount paid in, the person paying it in, and the address of that person, and we then send the person an acknowledgment receipt note—I find an entry in words and figures of 15l. paid in on 24th September—it does not show by whom it was paid in—in the word "fifteen" the "t" is missing, and the figure 1 before the 5 appears to be in different ink—this acknowledgment receipt note for 15l. was posted in due course to Mr. Gilling—the entry in the book appears to have been altered from 5l. to 15l.—the book was sent back to our office by the secretary of the society some time in May I believe, and then it was discovered that it was wrong.

Cross-examined. Persons paying in money take this book to the office and hand it to the person to whom they pay the money, and the person receiving the money makes the entry in the book—I was not present when it was paid in, and I cannot say by whom or to whom it was paid, and personally I have no recollection of when the book was returned, the records at the chief office show—the figure 1 is in darker ink—if I had heard nothing of the case I should say that it appeared to have been altered—the person paying in would take the book away with him—the acknowledgment is sent according to the Act of Parliament; it is to fix the people at the office, and to notify to the depositor that the money is placed to his credit in the official ledgers at the office.

LUCY BEACH . I am the wife of the postmaster at Johnson's Place, Harrow Road—this entry of the 24th September is mine—5l. only was paid in; that is all I entered—the "v" has been made into an "f" and "eon" added, and I has been added in the money column—I entered the 5l. on this sheet, which goes in the evening to the general office with our account—the acknowledgment is to go to Mr. John Gilling, 5, Elwyn Street, Westbourne Park.

Cross-examined. I cannot remember the transaction, we have so much business—all the entries in this book are not in my writing—the money is generally paid in by the prisoner's wife, and I think it was in this case—it would be handed back to her after the entry was made.

Re-examined. From this being my entry I know that I received the money.

GEORGE HAMILTON HUTCHINSON . I live at 31, Manor Street, Chelses, and am clerk in the chief office of the Savings Bank Department—it is my duty to write out the acknowledgments from the sheets which are sent from the branch offices—from this sheet I wrote out this acknowledgment that 5l. had been received on behalf of the society on 24th September—it has been altered to 15l.—it is folded up, and I put on the address.

FRANCIS COOMBER . I live at Maryland Road, Harrow Road, and am secretary to the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters and Joiners, Paddington Branch, of which the prisoner has been treasurer for over two years, and was so up to 7th May last—on April 15th I discovered an error in the deposit book after it had been returned—it was 10l. short in the casting up

on comparing it with the cash-book—I keep the cash-book—the money which is received in every fortnight is entered in the cash-book, and when it amounts to 15l. it is the treasurer's duty to bank it—he would receive it from the check steward—the prisoner kept the treasurer's book—I was not secretary at the time this happened—I told the prisoner I could not make the book right—he said it was quite right, he had banked 15l. on 24th September—after that I told him as he was going to bank some more money daring the fortnight we must get the acknowledgments together and see if they tallied with my cash-book previously to 29th April—he produced the acknowledgment you have and these two others, and they made my book right—on 30th April I went to the post-office in Johnson's Place and showed the books to Mr. Beach; he looked through the acknowledgments in the book and thought it was a mistake at the General Office—on 10th May, after the prisoner was out of office, the book was sent to the General Office—I thought it was an error on the part of the post-office—the deposit book is kept locked up in a box, but it is in the treasurer's custody while he is banking the money, and he produces it at the next meeting.

Cross-examined. During the time the prisoner was treasurer he has constantly had money passing through his hands—I do not know of the books lying at Manchester, and the amounts accumulating during my term of office—Mr. Hinckston, since 1st January, has been trustee and referee—I cannot say that his position is higher than mine—it has not been a matter of dispute between us—I have seen him outside—he was not brought hen by the prosecution—I knew on 5th May that the prisoner was short in his Money by this, a letter which he wrote to me—I have a copy of it (Read: "Mr. Coomber,—I am truly sorry to tell you I am unable to meet the cheque for Brother Anderson's funeral benefit," &c.) On the receipt of that letter I communicated with three of the senior trustees of the branch and got them together at Paddington—one of them was Mr. Hinckston—I sent for the defendant and he said he had got no money at all—I suggested that we should borrow the money of the landlord of the house to bury the young man, and he lent 15l.—it was not arranged that the defendant was to have time till Friday—I did not know of his being in difficulties, nor have I heard of it—on the following day we communicated with the chairman—I was the chief person who got up the emergency meeting—if the money had been paid the matter would have dropped—Mr. Hinckston was not deputed to act for the society in getting this money—I have heard since that he did get it—the meeting was convened for Wednesday, 7th May—Hinckston brought the money to that meeting—I saw him on Tuesday night and told him I had summoned the committee, and he promised to be there, so I did not think it necessary to summon him, and he came with the prisoner, and 23l. 9s. 11d. was handed over, which is the sum I asked for—I am not aware that 33l. was put on the table—Hinckston did not say where he got the money from—I was under the impression it was himself paying it—I do not know that Hinckston at that time knew of the alteration in the book, or that he had 33l. there that night—I thought that as a friend he was going to assist Gilling—he thought I was rather hasty in convening the meeting—I do not know that that was the reason that the 33l. was not paid that night—the prisoner up to that time had always attended the meetings, and we never had any unpleasantness before—the prisoner was taken to the police-court by a detective on 6th June—on 10th

May I sent the book back to the post-office to be rectified, and I have never had it since—I communicated with the Executive Council at Manchester at once, and carried out their instructions—I gave no receipt for the 23l.—the trustees took the money and we made a minute in the minute book—at that time he had not the acknowledgments in his possession—he gave them to me on 29th April—he had the book in his possession between 15th and 29th April for the last time—I cannot say if he had destroyed the savings bank book, whether the only proceedings we could have taken against him would have been for being short of the money—there are provisions in the rules where we can take proceedings against men who do not give up books and documents—if he wanted to bank money he could have got the book on May 31st, at the ordinary branch meeting—we were very glad to get the 23l. odd, for the prisoner's sake—I have heard that 33l. 11s. was put on the table—the meeting lasted about half an hour—when I found out about there being another 10l. wrong the matter was out of my hands—I don't know why Hinckston was not called at the police-court.

Re-examined. At the time of the meeting I had not the slightest ides that the prisoner had forged the deposit book—the 23l. 9s. 1d. was the balance shown by the books of the society—I should not expect at that meeting that 33l. odd would be paid—it appears from his book that he paid two sums of 15l., viz., one on 3rd September and the other on the 17th—the one on the 17th is the one he says he paid on the 24th—credit was given for both those sums in the book.

JOHN PRYOR . I live at 97, Brunswick Street, Hardwick Green, Manchester, and am General Secretary of the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters and Joinere—I produce a certified copy of the rules upon which I instituted legal proceedings—there is a rule in reference to deficiencies by the treasurer by which we can take summary proceedings.

Cross-examined. It would be under rule 47 that proceedings would be taken.

JOHN JAGO . I am a member of the Paddington branch of the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters and Joiners, and was formerly branch secretary—the prisoner told me that he had banked two sums of 15l. during the September quarter that I was secretary—the two sums appear in that book.

Cross-examined. I do not know that he has banked as much as 36l. at 8 time.

WILLIAM CRANE (Detective Sergeant X). I arrested the prisoner on 6th June, and told him he would be charged with embezzling 10l., the moneys, of the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters and Joiners,—he made no reply, but in the waiting room of the Marylebone Police-court he made a statement to me, which I took down at the time—previous to his making the statement I told him that whatever he told me I should tell the Magistrate—he said: "I have been in very great trouble, that is why I took the money; I was 33l. 10s. deficient in my accounts; Mr. Hinckston ought to have paid the money when he had it; if he had done so I should not have been in this trouble. I borrowed a cheque for the amount from Mr. Curtis, of 22, Abbey Gardens, St. John's Wood, and gave it to Hinckston; he never paid it in."

MR. GILL called the folio wing witnesses:

EDWARD HINCKSTON . I am trustee and one of the referees of this society,

and was present at the emergency meeting when the defendant said he was deficient in his moneys—I went to Mr. Curtis's with the defendant—I am not sure of the date—we got from Mr. Curtis a cheque for 33l. 10s.—I did not know what the 10l. over the 23l. odd was for—I cashed it and went to the meeting with the proceeds—I asked the secretary the amount of the prisoner's defalcations or deficiencies, and he said it was 23l. 9s. 11d.—I put the bag with the 33l. 10s. on the table—I handed it to the secretary—I was not prepared to pay the 10l.—I dont think there was any feeling existing between us—I might have said that as Mr. Coomber had convened the meeting without consulting me he might find out what the ether 10l. was for—I suppose I acted for the defendant—I knew the 33l. was to pay the society's demand—I did not go back and pay Mr. Curtis the 10l.—I paid it in my own house to the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I paid the amount the society told me was due from the defendant and afterwards paid him back the 10l.

THOMAS CURTIS . I am an insurance and coal commission agent—Hinckston and the prisoner called on me and discussed the subject of the deficiencies—the latter brought a paper from the secretary, in pencil, stating how much his deficiencies were, which were something like 23l., but when I found it was a serious matter, the prisoner said: "That is not the worst, I am sorry to say; I have altered a figure 10l.;" I thought it was very kind of Mr. Hinckston to come and try to arrange the matter, and I said: "Well have the money and try and settle it all up," and I gave Mr. Hinckston a cheque for 33l. 10s.—10s. was repaid to me about a week after—I have known the prisoner for five or six years, and I should not have done that if I had not had great respect for him—I understand his wife has been ill—' I am sure Mr. Hinckston knew what the 10l. was for—the prisoner brought a slip of paper from the secretary, shewing 23l. due, and the other amount was to make good the 10l. which the prisoner admitted.


Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Three Months' Imprisonment.

THIRD COURT.—Saturday, July 5th, and Monday, July 7th, 1879.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-638

638. JAMES PIKE (35) and GEORGE HOWE, (36) , Unlawfully conspiring to defraud William Whiteley, Charles Smith, and various other persons.

MESSRS. BESLET and J. P. GRAIN Prosecuted; MR. PUBCELL Defended.

TEMPLE S. MARTIN . I am Chief Clerk at Lambeth Police-court—I produce the original depositions in the case of Howe v. Bryant, dated 27th January and 3rd February, 1879—the case came on again on the 30th, but no further evidence was taken—(The depositions were put in and read)—the ease was dismissed—I have the original summonses; one against Bryant on 20th January, which was heard on the following Monday; another against Brewis, dated 25th April, for short weight, and another on 25th April for short weight in coals, and not having a perfect weighing machine—here are two other summonses, dated 30th April, one for not having a perfect weighing machine, in pursuance of 2nd Victoria, c. 101, s. 5, and the other for not delivering to George Farr a paper or ticket according to section 8—Mr. Brewis was fined 40s., and has taken a case for the Superior Conrt—the other

two cases against Brewis were dismissed. (The depositions of 2nd May and 17th June were here read.)

Cross-examined. The first part of the notes in Brewis's case are taken by my colleague, and the latter part by me.

WILLIAM GARDNER , I am a weigher in the employer of Bryant and Co., coal-merchants—they sent me to see about weighing some coals which had been delivered to Mr. Howe, and testing whether they were short weight after they were delivered—I went to 8, Wyndham Road, Camberwell, and saw Howe—I said "I have come from Mr. Bryant to have the coals weighed up, as you said they were short weight"—he said "I will not have them weighed up"—I said "For why?"—he said "I had got about a hundredweight in the cellar, and I shall not think of such a thing"—I said "We will allow for the hundredweight in the cellar and for what little you have burnt"—he said "No, I shan't have them picked up"—I went away, and went again in a day or two; I saw him after he took out the summons, and said "I have come down to see you about this short weight"—he said "I don't want to be talked over by a parcel of fellows like you"—I said "I beg your pardon, I have not come to talk you over at all"—he came out of his house, and said that he had some business to attend to, and went to the corner of the street; he asked me to have a drop of ale, and I went to a public-house with him, and he told me that such jobs as these paid him—I said "Why?"—he said "I have got 20l. out of a merchant before, and I shall get 20l. for reporting this job; Mr. Bryant is bound to be fined 50l."—I said "That will be 45l."—he said "The Clerk of the Court told me I shall be entitled to half the fine"—I said "That is 45l.;" that is 20l. for reporting and half the fine—I said "I don't believe you if these jobs pay you"—he said he had to get to business, so I left him—he said the coals would not burn long as they were rubbish; he also said "I took the summons out"—I said "I am sorry for it, as you have your weight of coal"—he said "Why?"—I said "I weigh the coals for more than one merchant, and one merchant will oblige another; you would be likely to get me into disgrace"—he said "I am sorry for you, but I shall let the matter take its course"—I then left, and went to Mr. Bryant—I had weighed the coals before they went out, and they were the correct weight.

Cross-examined. I have been weigher to Messrs. Bryant three years this month—I have a great deal of weighing during the day; I have mates to assist me; I cannot recollect each lot of goods I weigh out; somebody else delivers them—I told Mr. Bryant the gentleman would not have them weighed; he said "Are you sure they were weight?"—I said "Yes"—he said "Why would not he allow them to be weighed up?"—I said "Because' he had a hundredweight in the cellar"—the carman said "That is a falsehood, for the cellar was nearly full of coal, and he could not shoot four, five, or six sacks into the regular cellar, as it was nearly full, and he shot the rest in a box in the yard"—Mr. Bryant said it should take its course, and told me to make arrangements to look over the summons as he had his weight—I did not tell Howe that Bryant would pay anything reasonable; Howe told me that the summons had been taken out, and it must take its course—Hobbs said "Cases such as these pay me;" I said "In what way I" and he told me—when I went to have the coals weighed I did not take a machine with me; I should have fetched a gang of men and a machine if he had sanctioned having them weighed—Bryant said "He wants me to make an agreement or arrangements for him to overlook the summons."

ALEXANDER BETTS . I am wharf clerk, employed by Mr. Hinchliffe, Warwick Road Coal Wharf, Kensington—on March 11th a carman brought back a note of coals delivered to Mr. Jones; that note was taken to the police-court on the hearing of the summons against Mr. Whiteley, and I have never Been it since; I saw on it a memorandum that the coals were 92 lb. short—by the direction of Mr. Fielding, my superior, I went the same evening to 12, Elm Grove, Hammersmith; I asked for Mr. Jones, and a man I now know as Thackeray came forward; he is the man who appeared for Whiteley before Mr. Bridge at Hammersmith—I saw Pike there; I went again next morning, and saw Jones; Fielding made no offer; my conversation was with Jones.

GEORGE GOULDEN . The order for coals delivered at 12, Elm Grove, was handed to me by Mr. Brett, and I saw to the weighing of half a ton of Derby Brights that were to go there on 11th March in five sacks—I weighed them; they each weighed 224 lb. full weight—the machine stands level on the ground, and the weight stands on the machine, and we fill the coal into the sack as it stands on the machine—14 lb. is allowed for the weight of the sack—when the quantity of coal is in, the bob comes up—this is a Ponpard's machine—there was full weight in each of the five sacks—they were loaded into Allen's van for delivery between 12 and 1 o'clock on 11th March.

Cross-examined. It was Mr. Whiteley's van; Allen was the carman—the coals I weigh are never wrong in the slightest degree—Mr. Poupard keeps the machine in order by contract, and puts a new one in, every period; and comes and tests it at intervals.

GEORGE STONE . I am employed by Mr. Hinchliffe—I remember five sacks being put into Allen's van for delivery at 12, Elm Grove, on 5th March—I carried three sacks and Dawson two—I was present when the two I carried were filled, and carried them in the same state to Allen's van.

CHARLES GILBURD . I am in Mr. Hinchliffe's employ—I was present when five sacks of Derby Brights were weighed on 5th March—they were full weight—I saw them put into the van.

JOSEPH WILLIAM ALLEN . I am a carman, of 25, Marlborough Road—I went to Elm Grove to take these coals, and saw Mr. Jones and Pike outside the house—Jones said that he wanted the coals weighed—I said "All right," and pulled the scales and weights out—Pike put on two sacks, one at a time, saying, "We will weigh them, stand back," and I stood back—the first sack was just weight, and I took it up the garden and shot it—I was away seven or eight minutes; I then put the next sack on the machine, and Pike weighed it and said it was short weight, and the next was the same, hut they would not let me weigh them—he made all four sacks short out of the five, but he did not say how much—they had all been put on the scale in the same state as I received them in the coal yard—I stole none of them.

Cross-examined. I put two of them on the scale—the prisoners did not hand me the weights, I took them from under the van—we had no weights to test how much the coal was short—I put two of the big weights on the machine and Pike put some little weights inside the sacks after the first sack was taken off—those were their weights—I was backing my van, and could not see whether the sacks were short or not, so that I know nothing about the weighing, but I was ready to weigh them.

HENRY GOBLE . I live at Gainsborough Row, Stoke Newington—I have been obliged to attend at the police-court there on subpoena—I was formerly in Mr. Whitele's employ—I. know Pike, and have seen him and Jones in company more than a year ago—on Monday evening, 10th March, I was in a public-house in Beresford Street, Walworth, in Pike's company for some hours—he said that half a ton of coal had been ordered by Thackeray at Mr. Whiteley's establishment in the Grove to test the weight, and that they were to be delivered somewhere in Hammersmith, and he said "I think Whiteley will sooner pay 50l. than go into Court"—I said "Mind you don't burn your fingers with Mr. Whiteley"—he had said that he was going to Hammersmith to see the coals weighed, and that he expected them next morning, I think—I knew that Pike lived at Station Road, Camberwell, and was in the coal trade the same as myself.

Cross-examined. I am not a coal merchant now—I do not advertise a Guinea Coal Company very largely—I assist in circulating a bill about coal merchants' profits—I was secretary and manager—it is not a company, it is only so-called—that was after I left Mr. Whiteley—I left him to better myself—the Guarantee Society declined to guarantee me—I have never gone by the name of Seymour—I was in the employ of Diprose, the money lenders—I have not been to France with a Mrs. Eastaby—I am not going to say whether she was sent to France out of the way—I went to France, and saw her while I was there, but she was not with me—I was never charged with conspiracy, nor was there a warrant out against me in the name of Seymour, nor did I abscond—I know Mr. Harris, the solicitor—I was not charged with him.

Re-examined. Since I gave evidence at the police-court I have been indirectly threatened by a party who was seen in Pike's company while the case was being postponed from one session to another—his name is Alfred Baldwin, and he is in Diprose's employ—Mrs. Eastaby got her money and came back to this country—the Diproses were acquitted, and Harris was convicted—I did not supply the money to her—I did not know she was away really—I saw her at the English and American Hotel, and knew her from having made the inquiry for the advance by Diprose—I was not there on her business at all—I never had an action brought against me.

GEORGE HINOHLIPP . I am a coal merchant at Kensington, and have an arrangement with Mr. Whiteley by which I deliver his orders for coals—I heard that a complaint had been made about the coal delivered to Mr. Jones, and went with Betts, my clerk, to Hammersmith and saw Mr. Jones—I said "I believe you have had some coals from Mr. Whiteley?"—he said "Yes"—I said "It appears there is short weight according to what you say"—he said "Yes, very short"—I said that if they were short they must have been lost on the way, and asked how he weighed them—he said "We have some small weights, and we use them; the first sack was short, and the other four were 90 odd pounds short"—I said "Well if they were short I had better send you a bit of coal to make it up; we will send you a bag of coal, and that will make it all right, won't it"—he said "No, that won't do for mo"—I repeatedly asked him what he wanted, but he did not say anything; I saw that he would not speak in Betts's presence, so I sent Betts to the wharf, and then said "Now, what is it you want? Do you want to have a bit of coal to make it up?"—he said, "No," looking out at the window all the time—I said "Well, turn yourself round, and let us know

what it is you want"—he charged his pipe, lighted it, and sat down in an easy chair and smiled, saying "I want 50l."—I said "Come, come, talk a little sense"—he said, "I will have 50l., and you can get it out of Whiteley"—I said, "You can get nothing out of me," and took my hat up and went to the garden gate, and said, "It is no use my stopping with you"—he said, "Well, if I do not have the money I shall summons Whiteley, and I can get 200l. out of him before he will be summonsed."

Cross-examined. I supplied the coals to the person who ordered them through Mr. Whiteley; I sell to Whiteley, and we have an arrangement—this conversation was on 13th or 14th March—I was not called at the police-court when Pike went out—I was only called once.

Re-examined. I attended on 20th and 21st March when the summons was heard against Mr. Whiteley, and I spoke about Pike going out when the witnesses were ordered out—I was there to give evidence.

WILLIAM WHITELEY . It was arranged at Hammersmith Police-court that I should prove the notes of the hearing of the summons against me, to save the clerk's attendance—the clerk checked the copy that was marked by the Magistrate—I am prepared to say that those notes are correct—it was the hearing of Saturday, 22nd March. (The deposition of Wm. Jones Thackeray was here put in and read, in which he stated that he ordered the coals in question, weighed them, and that every sack was short weight, and that he signed a receipt for them, less 92 lb. short. The summons was marked "Dismissed, 10 guineas costs to defendant; Distress or Two Calendar Months.") I carry on business in Westbourne Grove, Bayswater—I knew of this order before it was executed, and waited till it was executed—the first information I had about it was a policeman serving me with a summons—I was not present at the interview between Jones and Hinchliffe—I employed Mr. Roach, my solicitor, to defend the summons, and Mr. Montagu Williams appeared for me at the police-court—I was summoned by Jones, and Mr. Roach cross-examined him—after the summons was dismissed I commenced proceedings by my solicitor's advice, and they have been carried on by me entirely—Jones and Pike did not appear to answer my charge of conspiracy, but Howe walked into the Court, who I did not know was mixed up in the matter, and told the Magistrate that he was very much surprised that they were not present, as he had very recently left them, and expected them to be there—he left the Court to look for them, I understood, and my Counsel and I waited there some time for them—a number of other cases were taken, but they did not come, and I got a warrant at once—Thackeray has never been found—I am told that Pike surrendered to the warrant—Howe was bail for him, and then I discovered facts and Howe was charged—since this charge was made coals have been weighed very much more; it was very rare indeed that they were weighed before—the prisoners have been partly on bail and partly in prison—I never heard of any short weight in my life except in this instance.

Cross-examined. I deal in most things—I know nothing personally about the quality or weight of the coals—Thackeray was the only witness called at the police-court—Mr. Williams asked him a few questions, and then the case was stopped without further evidence being gone into—I have heard of circulars of the Coal Consumers' Protection Society bearing the name of Geo. Howe, of Camberwell, but I never heard of any book of the kind containing Howe's name—I do not know that a copy of each of them was

delivered at my establishment—thousands of letters are sent there which I never see; 50 people are set aside every morning to open letters—since the prisoners have been committed for trial there have been applications to weigh coals.

RICHARD BATCHELOR . I am a carman to Mr. Hinchliffe—on 26th June, I and two others, Rollins and Clark, had orders to take four tons of coal and a chaldron of coke to Mrs. Clark, St. Andrew's, Worcester Park—we loaded three vans at Mr. Hinchliffe's wharf, Kensington—Worcester Park is eight or nine miles from there; it is four or live miles beyond Wimbledon—I was present when the coals were weighed and put up; they were all correct—we left about 2 o'clock, and after we passed Wimbledon we noticed that we were followed by two men, Pike is one of them—we went over Putney Bridge, and when we stopped to give the horses wind, the men stopped and looked in the hedge—they followed us four or five miles, and after we got to Mrs. Clark's and had shot five or six sacks, I saw Pike talking to Rollins; he said that he should like to have the coals weighed; I said "All right"—Pike was talking to the housemaid, when I took the first sack in—I weighed four or five sacks and they were correct; I then said to Pike, "Who authorised you to have the coals weighed?"—he said, "I have permission from the lady"—I went on weighing and they were all right—they had a gardener there to look on; I do not know his name, he is here—when the weighing was over, Pike and his friend left—after my ticket was signed, the gardener told me something, and I told my master what had occurred.

Cross-examined. Two carmen were with me; there were weighing machines on each of the three carts—the machine was taken from the first cart, it was correct—the weights did not slip off when we took it out—we weighed each cartload on its own machine, but no fault was found with the first machine—I did not say that I would see Pike d——d first, and would smash his b——y head, nor did I hear it said—I did not fill up three sacks because they were light—we had not been drinking, we had not the means to buy it—we were not threatened with a summons for driving off the path, but a stone laid in the road and the fore-wheel went over it—I was asked my name and address and I gave it.

FREDERICK ROLLINS . I was with Batchelor on 26th June—when we got to Mrs. Clark's, Pike said, "I want the coals put on the scales"—I said, "All right, Sir, you can have them," and got out the scales—I did not know him before—the weights and coals were put on, and the coals were all right—I heard Pike say that he had permission from the lady—I had seen the coals weighed before they were put into the van—they were all right then, and all right on delivery.

Cross-examined. The first pair of scales were not out of order—they used the scales of each cart—there were three carts, but only two scales were used—the weights of the first scale slipped and we put them on again—Pike asked for one of the scales to be shifted, because it was so close to the cart that it could not be properly worked, and we shifted it—Batchelor said that it was all right; he did not say that he would see him d—first, nothing of the sort was said—he did not say that he would smash Pike's b——head—no strong language was used by the carman to Pike, they were quite civil to him—14 or 15 sacks were weighed and 40 srcks were delivered—when the sacks were weighed I took some coal off one sack not weighed, and put it on another—I did not take lumps of coal from sacks which were

never weighed at all—when there was 3 or 4 lb. over we took some coal off and laid it down by the side—only 2 sacks were light; it was not more than two—I superintended the weighing of the sacks when they left Hinch-liffe's—they were all the right weight—I did not touch them on the way down—when they are all together in the van there may be a lump fall from the top of one sack on to another.

Re-examined. We stopped weighing because we went away—the scales were a little bit on the slant, and when the sacks were put on, it carried them off—the third machine was not used at all.

GEOROK CLARK . I am carman to Hinchliffe—I went down with Rollins and Batchelor to Worcester Park—I was present when the coals were weighed and put into the sacks at the wharf—every sack I weighed was right at the other place.

Cross-examined. They were not all weighed at Worcester Park—there were two machines used—I don't think the first machine was out of order—the weights did not slip off the plate—Pike asked Batchelor to try a sack of coals in another machine on another waggon—two or three sacks weighed at Westbourne Park were over weight—I think there were 62 sacks—not one contained light weight—we took the overweight sacks into the cellar—I do not know that any of the waggons ran on the path at Wimbledon, or that either of us had to give our address—I was in the middle cart—Batchelor drove the last one—I saw him stop and ask a dairyman the way to Worcester Park—the machine was not pulled out from one of the carts because you could not pull it out—fairly civil language was used to Pike.

Re-examined. I would not swear whether anybody swore at him, or called him a b——fool.

THOMAS ORAM . I am gardener to Mr. Chifferiel, of Worcester Park—on Thursday, 27th June, I saw some coal carts come down to Mrs. Clark's opposite—I saw Pike, who beckoned me over—I went, and he said, "Come here and see these coals weighed"—I saw eight or nine sacks weighed, I think by one set of scales and weights—I believe there had been some weighed before I was called up—all I saw were right—the last one was right, I know; the last of the contents of the three vans—Pike said nothing more to me—I said something to the man with Pike about pulling some sweet briar off the hedge, and he said he would not put himself under 20s., or something of that sort, and he said he had followed these vans from Wimbledon.

Cross-examined. I was at work in a garden nearly opposite—there might have been weighing before, because my attention was not called to that—the carts had been there a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes—the scales were on the tail of the van—some sacks were over weight and some under.

Re-examined. I don't know how many sacks were left when I went away. Ellen Harrison. I am in the service of Mrs. Clark, of St. Andrew's. Worcester Park—on Thursday, 26th June, some coals and coke came from Whifceley's in three vans—the cook showed them where to shoot them, and they began to deliver them—after three or four sacks had been delivered, when Pike gave me this card and circular (produced), he asked to see the lady or gentleman—I told him he could not, but could I take a message—he asked for permission to weigh the coals, as he thought they were short weight—I went up and asked, and came back and asked if it would be free of charge—he said it was free of charge, and that he only came to see that

we were not robbed of the coals—I don't know how many sacks were shot while I was upstairs—he went to the gate and asked to have eight weighed—I saw no more of them—I took the card and circular to my mistress—he said he had followed them a long way.

Cross-examined. I did not hear the conversation between him and the carman—there was a dispute between them about the weight—I did not hear any bad language—I was not there all the time.

MARY JONES . I live at 49, Redburn Street, Hood Street, Chelsea-previous to 28th March I had a bill in the window "A room to let"—Howe came to my place and gave the name of Farrar on a piece of paper—it was a first-floor unfurnished room at 5s. 9d.—he asked if there was a place to keep coals in; I said there would be a place prepared in the back yard—Pike was with him, and said he was carpenter enough to build one for himself—I asked for a reference—Farrar said he had come up from the country by the Great Eastern line—he said he and Pike were friends, and were going to be employed in the neighbourhood together—he paid 5s. for a deposit—this is the reference "Mr. Pike, 6, Station Road, Camberwell"—he came again on Thursday, and said he had ordered some coals to come in the evening—that would be 20th March—I told him the place was not ready for the coals, and he said they would be shot in the yard—no coals or furniture came on Thursday, but the coals came on Friday—he was in once or twice that day—on the Thursday I gave him a chair to sit on and left him there—he said he should be round the corner if the coals came—both were there when the coals came—no coals were delivered—Farrar came on Saturday morning—he stopped a little time in the room and went out again—Mr. Smith came twice that day—there was still no furniture there—they went away together—I saw no more of Howe [Farrar] till I saw him in this Court.

CHARLES SMITH . I am a member of the firm of Ulmore and Smith, coal merchants, Piccadilly, and have a depot at Cremorne—an order was received on 20th March to deliver half a ton of coal at 49, Redburn Street, Flood Street, Chelsea, for a person named Farrar—they were sent next day—Thorne was the weigher—I was not present—about 6 p.m., from information received, I went towards Chelsea Police Station, and saw my van standing outside the World's End public-house—I looked in and saw my carman and both the defendants—Howe came out and said "Your man has been with the coals and the machine is broken and will not weigh them"—I said "I am surprised to hear it, as the machine is a new one"—I had the frame of the machine drawn out, and found that the back bar of the" frame was broken—it would be impossible to tell whether it was recently broken or not—before sending them from the depot the coals were weighed on our private standard machine—I had them afterwards re-weighed at the depot in the presence of myself and Thorne and both prisoners—the first sack was considerably overweight, excluding the sack, an empty sack being put on the weight scale to equalise the weight—the second was correct, the third several pounds short, and the fourth and fifth a little short, or about 201b. or 301b. short on the five sacks, value about 2d.—coals might have been spilled—I said "I hope you will take no further notice of it," and some conversation passed—Howe talked a great deal, and they went away saying that I shour hear of it—the next morning, Saturday, about 10 o'clock, I went to 49, Redburn Street, but did not go in; Howe did not appear to

wish me to go in, as he came out immediately into the street and shut the door—he spoke a great deal of the serious position in which I was placed, and quoted a fearful number of Acts of Parliament under which I was to be brought into trouble, and suggested that the best thing was to settle it—he said he would take 20l. and no less—I think he said he was entitled to half the amount—when we went on to the embankment close by, Pike joined us and heard a greater part of the conversation, and was present when Howe said he would not take a penny less than 20l.—I said "It is so preposterous I cannot listen to it," and I left on the understanding that I would see him again at 3 o'clock—he said he was going to annihilate me with proceedings—I went at 3 p.m., and he pulled the door to again and came out into the street—I tried to induce him to take less, but he would not, and at last I paid him the 20l. in coin—he said "It is the wisest thing to do; you must not grumble, there are four of us, and that's only 5l. a-piece; you are well out of it; I shall get," or "have got, 50l. out of Whiteley"—I had lost a relative and had a very serious pecuniary trouble—I should not have parted with the money but for the statements made by Howe about proceedings in the police-court, or if I had known what was going on at the time—I knew nothing of Mr. Whiteley's affair.

Cross-examined, Neither of the defendants told me they belonged to the Coal Consumers' Protection Association—Howe told me he was going to annihilate the whole of the coal trade—I will not swear he did not tell me he had formed or belonged to an association made for the purpose of enforcing the Coal Acts; if he did I should not have paid any attention to it—my carman had proper scales—I was not aware of the amount, but knew there was a penalty to which carmen are liable for not having proper scales, and I know that coal dealers are liable to a penalty if coals are delivered less weight than is put on the ticket—I did not know the penalty was 10l., or that if the deficiency exceeded 2241b. the penalty was 50l.—the defendant terrified me by referring to a number of provisions in the Coal Acts—he made no objection to the coals going back to our depot to be reweighed—three out of the five sacks were underweight—I believe the penalty is for sacks underweight, and that it is not material that they should be overweight—the machine was new and not imperfect, but the frame had been in use for months—I said before the Magistrate "It was not for a defective machine; it was not defective; the frame it fitted into was broken at the back and it could not act properly"—I offered to give him less than 20l., but he declined to take a penny less—when I went again in the afternoon I carried the 20l. in my pocket, and finding he would not take less I gave it him.

JOSEPH KELLER (Police Inspector). I was on duty at Chelsea, but am now at Fullerton—on Friday, 21st March, Howe, who called himself Farrar, of 49, Pedburn Street, came to the Chelsea Station, and said "I want you' to weigh one of these sacks of coals," which were then in the van outside the station—I said "Why?"—he said "I have asked this man to weigh one of the sucks of coals he was to deliver at my place, and he says he cannot as the machine is out of order; I want you to weigh one of the sacks"—I said "1 must decline to do that; we have nothing to do with weighing coals"—I wrote it down in the occurrence book (produced) at 5.45.

Cross-examined. I am acting on the orders of the Commissioners—I have hoard there is a weighing machine at the station, but it will not weigh more than 841b.

Re-examined. I do not know whether the Justices have appointed a place elsewhere—I know nothing of the Coal Consumers' Protection Association—the scales were for weighing coals sent round to the men when the authorities supplied the police with coals; that has been discontinued, and the scales have not been used for the last 10 years.

JOHN JOHNSON . I am a carman employed by Mr. Cole, coal-merchant—I took a ton of coals to a private house 8, Wyndham Road, Camberwell, on 8th January—Howe opened the door—I gave him the ticket already receipted, "Received per the carman," with the address at the back—he said "I want to see them weighed"—there were 10 sacks—I pulled the scales out, and weighed them—the first sack was a little overweight—I took a bit off, and carried the sack round into the yard, and shot it into a bin—Howe went with me—the second sack was weight, and he showed me another place in a shed in the yard to put that one, and he then went back to the van—the third sack was not quite weight—I said "Well, it's strange if that is not weight and the others are," so I put on the bit I had taken off the first sack, which nearly made it right—I shot that in the shed with the second sack—it took me seven or eight minutes to go there and back each sack—the sacks were all short weight after the first—I kept on putting coal out of another sack to make up the weight; there was about three quarters of a sack short out of the ten—I said "It's a curious thing, the two first sacks were right enough; I cannot carry these, they are too full"—he said "Oh, I understand weighing coals if you don't!"—he weighed them, and I put them on the scales—I put the weights on first—Howe did not produce any weights; he held the sacks on the waggon to keep them from falling while I got down—after I had done loading I went into the room, and asked him to sign the ticket—he wrote this on the back: "Received 18 cwt., less weight of one sack, George Howe, not paid"—I cannot write or read—Pike was with him in the room; I had not seen Pike before—I did not get the money, and I took the ticket back to my master—I had no more coals in the van.

Cross-examined. I had 10 sacks in all—I had to use about three parts of a sack to make up the others—the first was over weight, the second was right; I did not say at the police-court it was short—the third sack was short—I said it was a very strange thing that all the sacks should be short after the first two—I told the Magistrate of that conversation—if I said that the second sack was short it was my mistake—Howe's hands must have been dirty, as he held the sacks while I got off the waggon—I never heard of "tailing" a van by making the first sack over weight, or of "heading "a van; I am sure it is not done in our firm—I never loaded a waggon.

WILLIAM MURRELL . I am a carman to Mr. R. C. Cole—I took half a ton of coals to 12, Elm Grove, Hammersmith, about 20th February—I got there between 3 and 4 o'clock, Pike came to the door—I said, "Half a ton of coals for you, Sir; for Mr. Jones"—he said, "All right"—I saw another man, a dark man, but not Howe—Pike took me to the back of the house to show me a little coal shed, leaving the dark man outside by the van—I went back to the van, and Pike asked me to weigh the coals, and I pulled out the scales, and put the weights on—I weighed the first sack, and it was right—I carried it round to the shed, and was away five or six minutes—neither Pike nor the dark man went with me—they shifted the weights to the other side of the scale, and would not let me weigh any more after the first sack—

they weighed after that—the second sack was about 1 1/2 lb. short—I carried that round, and put another on; I told them they had no business to shift the weights, and should leave them where I put them; they said they were not put right—I said they were—then the dark man fetched a policeman, and some little weights—the policeman came, and stood about 4 yards away while they weighed the third sack—the third, fourth, and fifth sacks were short; I do not know how much—they put the small weights on the top of the sacks—no money was paid—they said they would see the collector, and Pike signed the ticket.

Cross-examined. A boy named Jim was with me—when weighing coals it is the practice to put an empty sack on the weight, if we have got one, to account for the weight of the sack—I did not do that when I weighed the first sack—the first sack was at the tail of the van—a sack was put on the weights when the second, third, fourth, and fifth sacks were weighed—we are always supposed to do that—I do not know what "tailing" or "heading "a load means—I never heard of making the sack full at the tail or head of the van to please the customers—I found they had shifted the weights on the scale from the side I had put them—I said before the Magistrate, "I asked both of them why that was done; Pike said 'You had not them on the right side '—I said 'It does not matter which side; you have no business to shift the weights,"—I also said "No empty sack was put on the weight side with the first sack; with the second, third, fourth, and fifth an empty sack was put on the weight side," and "the first sack was right and all the others were wrong."

Re-examined. The second was 1 1/2lb, short, the third, fourth, and fifth about alike, about 61b. short altogether—I weighed the first sack—I did not put an empty sack on, but I know it was right, I could tell within a little—they told me not to touch, after I weighed the second sack.

SARAH ELIZABETH PENLKT . I am wife of William Penley—at the last quarter I lived at 16, Hayes Place, Lisson Grove, and had two unfurnished rooms to let—Howe came on 26th March, and saw them, and asked my terms for the rooms and the garden and coal cellar—I told him a week's rent, 7s. 6d. down; a reference and his address—he said he would come back in a quarter of an hour and give me a decided answer—he came again alone in a quarter of an hour and paid a week's rent and wrote in my presence "William Ferris, Mr. Pike's, 6, Station," he struck that out and wrote after it "William Ferris, Mr. J. Pike, 6, Station Road, Camberwell," and gave it to me as his reference—he gave me no address—the coal-cellar is a shed at the bottom of the garden—I saw Pike outside waiting for hir—I did not see him again—I moved away and was not there when the coals came—I saw no furniture brought—I am not aware that either Howe or Pike slept there—I saw some coals in the shed after the key was sent me through the post—we went twice to get the reference but could not find it—I found Mrs. Pike, but could get nothing about Ferris—my husband then wrote this letter and received this reply: "April 5, 1879. Mr. W. J. Penley. Sir,—Mr. Ferris is laid up with a very bad foot, both bunion and gout' He requests me to send you the key of room, the only key he had, and says he cannot possibly get out to pay his money for the next few weeks. He cannot possibly pay the rent to date, but if you will take the coals on account he will call upon you some day when in the neighbourhood and square the odd shilling or two in two or three weeks. If the rooms are

disengaged he will most likely be anxious to carry out the original arrangement. He returns the key and gives up possession from to-day, as his return to business for some time seems unlikely.—Yours, &c, G. H." The key came in this envelope—the rooms had been occupied three weeks—I have been paid nothing more—I took to the coals after I had been examined at the police court.

Cross-examined. He wrote the reference against the wall.

JOHN STUBBINS . I am employed by Mr. Cole, I remember half a ton of coals being ordered for 12, Elm Grove, Hammersmith, in February—I helped to load them in Murrell's van, but did not know where he delivered them—they were previously weighed on the machine—I also weighed up some coals for Justice's van, but did not know where they were going—I heard there was a bother about them—I was next day able to say the coals delivered by Justice had been properly weighed and were full weight.

Cross-examined. I always weigh full weight—we sent out from 6 or 8 to 40 tons a day—three other men helped me—Murrell and Justice are constantly employed taking out loads—Mr. Cole has not got two ways of weighing, short weight and full weight, and does not send coals light weight to my knowledge—we have not two sizes of sacks, not light and heavy sacks.

THOMAS JUSTICE. I am a carman to Mr. Cole—on Saturday, 29th March, about 5.30, I took half a ton of coals to 16, Hayes Place, Lisson Grove, with this invoice—I can read a little. ("March 28th, 1879. Mr: Ferris, Dr. to the London Coal Delivery Company. Half ton Best Silkstone, 25s.; 12s. 6d. Received per carman per London Coal Delivery Company, S. W. Bell" Endorsed, "Half Best Silkstone's, Mr. Ferris, 16, Hayes Place, Lisson Grove; 12s. 6d.")—Howe came to the door; he took the ticket and said, "All right, the coals are for me," and I backed the van up to the door—he said, "Draw the scales out, I want to see the coals weighed"—a boy named Fido was present—Pike came up and looked on, but I did not know that he and Howe knew one another; they spoke together, but I did not know what they said—I put a sack on the scales and it was right—I carried it through the house into the shed at the back—it took me about five minutes—Howe went and returned with me—I then put another sack on the scales in the same way, the weights being 4 half cwts.—Pike said, "I want the weights shifted"—I said, "If you want them shifted you shift them yourself," and he shifted one of the weights a little—I weighed the second sack and it was overweight—I carried it away with the overweight and shot it, and Howe went with me, leaving Pike at the waggon—the third sack was a pound or two short, and Howe fetched a policeman, who saw it weighed—he put his hand under the scales and just lifted them up and said, "I don't see there is much wrong in that, as the other one was over"—I carried that in and weighed the next—the fourth was overweight, the fifth just right—I said nothing; the policeman said, "Are you satisfied?" and they both said, "Yes, perfectly satisfied"—Howe wrote, "George Howe" upon the ticket, but I did not see the other writing on it till I got home. (This said, "Received, George Howe, for William Ferris," on the face of it, and "Received half ton coals, one sack 14 lb., and another 4 lb. short; George Howe for William Ferris")—Howe gave me 6d.—I asked for payment for the coals, but he said, "No, I cannot pay for them now," and I then asked him to sign the ticket—he did not say a word about there being 14 lb. short on one sack and 4 on another sack.

Cross-examined. Fido was on the van all the time—the third sack was one or two pounds overweight; I did not try it with the scales—I do not think it might have been 4 lb. short—Howe did not put any small weights on—I said before the Magistrate, "I swear only one sack was short—Howe said two were short—I think he said the fourth was 4 lb. short—he did not say how much the 3rd was short"—I adhere to that statement—Mr. Besley was at the police-court; nothing was said to me about 4 lb. or 14 lb. being short—Fido is not here.

Re-examined. Mr. Kimber, a solicitor, was at the police-court on behalf of the prisoners, and I remember him putting the question about the 41b. and 14 lb.—it was never mentioned to me by word of mouth, it is what I since discovered was written on the ticket.

ALFRED BOWDEN (Policeman D 126). On Saturday, 9th March, at 6 p.m., I was on duty about 200 yards from 16, Hayes Place, when Howe came to me and said, "I am having some coals delivered at my place, I want you to come and witness the coals being weighed, as I believe the company are serving out 18 cwt. to the ton; they have been summoned once before and got clear off, as there was not a policeman to witness the case"—I went up and saw the van with 30 or 40 sacks in it, and saw three sacks weighed, two sacks were empty when I got there—the first one (No. 3) was about a pound short—I touched the scale and it easily turned one way or the other—the carman was going to put a piece of coal in to make it weight, but Howe said, "Don't put that in, it might rob some other person"—No. 4 was 4 or 5 lb. overweight—Howe said, "That's overweight"—the last I saw weighed was just right—I said, "Are you satisfied with it?"—Howe said, "I am perfectly satisfied with it"—Mr. Cole made a statement to me a few days after—I did not see one of them give 6d. to the carman—Pike stood at the tail of the van.

Cross-examined. They said they were satisfied two or three times. Robert Capon Cole. I live at Argyle House, Castle Hill, Ealing—I have been in the coal trade 15 years, and carry on business at Imperial Wharf, Warwick Road, Kensington, and at 75, Edgware Road, trading as the London Coal Delivery Company, and as Cole and Leigh—Pike was about 18 months in my employ eight or ten years ago as agent on commission—after he left he went into business in the Beresford Road, and then at 6, Station Road, Camberwell, and had coals from me—we weighed them till he instructed us not to weigh them—they were fetched by some one he employed, till I would not allow it and stopped it, and the coal was then delivered in my own carts—I have sold to Pike coals at 18 cwt. to the ton by his special order when he was carrying for himself, but I ceased to do so four or five years ago—I have since sent out coals for him to his order in my vans, and charged him as one merchant would another—I have not sent out any coals of improper weight that I am aware of during the last four years—I remember an order for one ton of coals, which were delivered on 8th January, at 8, Wyndham Road—I did not know George Howe before that order was sent—Johnson delivered them and brought back the delivery note produced, endorsed "Received, 18 cwt, less weight of one sack, George Howe"—I went next morning and saw Howe at 18, Wyndham Road, and said "I call to ask about the coals we delivered yesterday"—he said "What have you to say about it?"—I said "I am certain they were proper weight," and he replied "I have weighed them and found them short weight;

I shall take out a summons against you at Lambeth Police-court"—I said, "Before you do that you had better make a few inquiries, and come down to our wharf and see the mode in which we execute our orders; we have never had a complaint of delivery of coals"—he said "I will do so"—this letter was at the office before I saw him, but I think I had not seen it then. (Read: "8, Wyndham Road, Camberwell, S.E. To Mr. R. C. Cole. 8ir,—Your carman called here to-day with what you consider a ton of coals. On weighing them I found there were not 18 cwt. We called it that much, not reckoning the weight of the first sack; but it really was not, as your man would insist upon weighing his hands. As I am informed you make a regular practice of sending short weight, I intend to-morrow to apply at the police-court for a summons against you, as I consider coals are quite dear enough without your swindling poor people out of 2 cwt. or more per ton. I thought perhaps you would consider me uncourteons if I did this without giving you due notice, so that you might attend and resist the application, as you may consider your defence on the day of hearing quite sufficient.—Yours, &c, George Howe.") At the end of the interview he said he should make inquiries whether there had been anything against us before—I received next morning this letter: "January 11, 1879. 8, Wyndham Road, Camberwell. Sir,—In accordance with your request I have been making inquiries. The result is not much in your favour. In the first place I cannot find that your company is registered according to Act of Parliament; that will subject you to a 50l. fine at least I next find that you trade under the name of Cole and Leigh, but that the latter has no existence. Furthermore you said that you had never been summoned before. I find that you have not only been summoned, but fined 10l. As you seem to desire to see me again, I shall be at home Monday from 11 till 2. Tuesday morning I attend at Lambeth Police-court at 10.30, as per instructions received to-day. Yours, &c., George Howe."—I was fined 10 or 11 years ago for not having weights and scales—in consequence of that letter I got a friend, Mr. Mead, to see him—he saw him twice—on the second time he paid him 20l. and brought me this. (A receipt dated January 14th, 1879, for 20l., in consideration of which sum Howe agreed to forego the threatened proceedings against Cole.)—I suspected Pike was mixed up in it because my name was written in full, "Robert Capon Cole," in the last letter—I gave Mr. Mead the 20l.—I do not know if Pike knew of the 10l. fine—about 19th February I got an order from C. Jones, 12, Elm Grove, Hammersmith, for half a ton of coals, and sent them by my carman, Murrell—he made a statement to me when he returned, and I went there myself on 20th February, and saw Jones; I have never seen him since—I had a conversation with him, and parted with 20l. to him in exchange for this. (This was an undertaking off February 20th, in consideration of 20l., "to take no proceedings for the short weight sent in the half ton of coals." Signed, "W. JONES.") I believe the coals delivered in January and February were full weight—I parted with the 20l. because he said they were weighed, and he had a policeman as a witness, and would summons me unless I thought it worth my while to compromise the matter—I suspected it was a clique with Pike and Howe, and I told Jones so and taxed him with it—he said, "Oh, I wrote to you by your advertisement in the paper, and I took it up quite by chance"—I gave him the 20l., and threw it down with indignation, when I found I could not get away—I believed it to be a

confederacy, and that I was at their mercy—on 27th March I received this letter: "16, Hayes Place, Lisson Grove. Please send Mr. Ferris half ton of coals. We have had them recommended to us, so suppose we had better have the best"—I sent the half ton on 29th March by Justice, who brought back this delivery note (produced), endorsed "41b. and 141b. short"—I went to the station and saw the inspector and Constable D 126—the coals were delivered on Saturday, and on Monday, March 31st, I received this letter: "Coal Consumers' Protection Association, 8, Wyndham Road, Camberwell, March 28th, 1879. To Robert Capon Cole, Esq. Sir,—One of our friends, a Mr. Ferris, ordered some coals of you this week, and desired me to attend and see them weighed and delivered. I did so, with the following result The first sack was about 21b. short weight, the second correct, the third 21b. over weight, the fourth 141b. short, and the fifth 41b. short, and on looking at the coals delivered I find them very far from the quality described upon the delivery note. I have therefore arranged to call at Hayes Place, Lisson Grove, to-morrow morning, to arrange course of proceedings to be taken. Our agent at Kensington sent me word during the week that the previous Saturday's proceedings had frightened Cole's people, and they were sending them out better but not quite right, as they were working in a light sack whenever it looked safe to do so. I knew you had nothing better than Silkstones, and should have advised that description to be ordered, but as you have discontinued the advertisement, did not know your address. I am afraid your sending them as best Wallsend, and charging extra for them on account of the name you bestowed upon them, will be likely to cause you trouble. I am determined to put an end to the robbery to the public in the matter of coals; am thereform forming an association for the purpose. We purpose issuing 5,000 circulars, and intend, if possible, to have at least one conviction each week to publish. I intentionally tell you this, as I am told one of your neighbours say that you must all combine to put an end to this weighing job. Perhaps you will be good enough to inform him from me that I consider there is but one way of fighting us with success, THAT IS, TO BE HONEST. Yours, &c., GEORGE HOWE, Secretary.") I then communicated with my solicitor—I did not see Howe after that—I knew of Mr. Whiteley's case at the police-court on the preceding Saturday—I parted with my money because of the threat that was held out—I did not see Pike.

Cross-examined. I trade as Cole and Lee at Warwick Road, Kensington—I also trade as the London Coal Delivery Company at Warwick Road and Edgware Road, after discontinuing to trade as The Guinea Coal Company when coals went up in prices—there is no Company and no Leigh, they are trade names—I adopted the name of Leigh because there was no one else in the trade of that name—I have not been charged or accused with false weight before—I said before the Magistrate "I had been accused of false weight before—this is by no means the first case"—I have been fined 10l. at the Marlborough Street Police-court for not carrying scales and weights—in so large a trade there is no merchant who has not been accused—I have disproved the accusations, but have never settled them—I do not think I had seen Howe's letter when I went to see him—I cannot remember whether I said at the police-court "Before I went I had this letter marked G," and that I then said "I am not certain"—I told Mr. Mead to go after I had received the letter marked H—my company is mot registered, there is no one in it—I do not have a price list, and have not systematically sent

coals short weight—I remember writing a letter to Pike: "Dear Sir,—On and after to-day prices to you as follows" &c. "You will understand these prices are as we load, no discount. If I a trifle more"—the "X" means full weight, and coals not marked I were light weight—but they were Pike's coals, not mine—I supplied coals to his customers light weight or full weight, and he was responsible—it was a regular practice for Pike to send out light weight in his own trade—he was not my agent four years ago—his coals were delivered in one of my vans without our name being displayed, only the Government name as we call it, because he would not like his coals to go out with another merchant's name displayed in front—they were sometimes delivered in his vans till I stopped it—I paid two sums of 20l., one in January and the other in February—I had not heard of Whiteley's case then—when I first saw Howe I offered to give him the deficiency in the coals to make up the weight—he said "No, I expect a ton, and shall summon you"—he did not on that occasion demand money, nor did I promise any—I never saw him again—Mr. Mead saw him—no one else was there but Pike, to whom I sent regular deliveries of coals not properly weighed—that has ceased for four years, and Pike owes me money—Mr. Mead was too ill to attend the police-court, and has only recently recovered—I said at the police-court "I instructed him to pay the money as I did not wish to be summoned—I could not fight that case—the coal was not weight on being sent out—the bag was merely filled from pressure of business, and there being no one at the weighing machine."

Re-examined. That refers to the loading of the coals for Howe—I found the men loading the coals like that, and they had formed a gang—I warned them and said "Be very careful you have the correct weight in the sacks"—I have no sacks holding less than 2241b.—they are all the same size—I saw them, and believe they were full weight.

GEORGE BREWIS . I and my three brothers carry on the trade of coal merchants at 47, Euston Road, and the Elephant and Castle Station—we received an order on 10th April for one ton best coals for Mr. Farrer, 8, Wyndham Road, Camberwell—this is a copy of the bill sent with the coals—the original was at the police-court—there were three summonses against us, one for short weight and defective machine; another misquoting the Act of Parliament, 104 instead of 10l.; and another to correct that error—I was fined 40s. and have appealed to a higher Court on the ground that the Magistrate found as a fact that there was no fraud in the matter, and the other two summonses were dismissed—I received from our manager at the Elephant and Castle on 15th April, when the carman returned from delivering the coals to 8, Wyndham Road, this card: "George Howe, Secretary, Coal Consumers' Protection Association"—I went on the following Friday and again in the evening to Wyndham Road, but could not see Farrer—I had seen Whiteley's case in the newspapers the week before, and observed he was prosecuting two men—I went to Hammersmith Police-court the week after while that charge was being preferred—I instructed my solicitors, Messrs. Roach and Sons, to appear for me at the Lambeth Police-court—the scales were perfect when they went out, and the coals full weight—I did not see them weighed, but have no doubt my men did their work properly—I have never permitted short weight—the coals from Euston Road are drawn from the King's Cross sidings, Great Northern Railway, and all coals weighed on the weighing machine of the King's Cross Company—on

the back of this card is written, "Received one ton, less 581b. short Not paid, 581b. short"—the Magistrate dismissed the summonses for short weights and defective weighing machine.

Cross-examined. The 40s. fine was for not setting out the Act properly, that was a printer's error—I said at the police-court "The chapter of the Coal Act was misprinted on the ticket The printer was sworn and said he and my manager consulted and agreed upon this form as more convenient than those we had in use before. The ticket left out the number of sacks and the number of pounds in them"—the other two summonses were dismissed four or five weeks ago—I had given evidence at Hammersmith—I said at Hammersmith "There are now two summonses hanging over my head for imperfect scales"—in that case a constable and a scavenger swore to short weight in the last of the defendant's sacks—I am manager to the Tyne Main Coal Company; it is not a limited Company—there are other persons in it besides myself.

Re-examined. The three summonses were taken out after I had seen Howe at the police-court on Whiteley's case—I was keeping the scales for inspection—I attended at Lambeth—the other scales were cheesemonger's scales on which the charge of short weight was made—I did not believe they would weigh 124 lb., and I examined them and sent a practical manufacturer to look at them.

HENRY WARREN (Policeman T 137). I am the Warrant Officer at Hammersmith Police-court—a summons was granted on 17th April against Pike and Thackeray—I served it at 12, Elm Grove—I did not see Thackeray and he never attended—I was present when a warrant was granted for his arrest, but have not been able to arrest him.

Cross-examined. I took Pike air the Hammersmith Police-court—a letter had been received by the Magistrate before, explaining that he could not attend, as he was in the country.

Re-examined. Pike did not attend on the return of the summons, and a warrant was granted against him on the 10th—he appeared two days after.

HENRY WASS (Detective T). I have had instructions to arrest Jones or Thackeray; but cannot find him.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each.

FOURTH COURT.—Saturday, July 5th, 1879.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18790630-639

639. JOHN SULLIVAN (71) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully attempting to obtain from Lord Lanesborough 1l. 1s. by false pretenses, with intent to defraud, having been previously convicted of felony.**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-640

640. JOHN WILLIAM COMLEY (21) and GEORGE WILLIAM CRANEY (21) , to stealing from the dwelling-house of George Richard Craney three rings and other goods, value 24l. COMLEY— Six 'Months' Imprisonment.

CRANEY— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

NEW COURT.—Monday, July 7th, 1879.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18790630-641

641. FRANZ VON WAESBERG (27) , Feloniously wounding Marius Caclard, with intent to murder. Second Count, to do grievous bodily harm.


The Prisoner being a foreigner, the evidence was interpreted to him.

MARGARET FLANNERY . I am servant at 208, St. George's Street East—I know the prisoner, he was staying at 208—it is a house where sailors stop when ashore—a sailor named Marius Caclard was stopping there—about half-past 2 o'clock on 30th May the prisoner was having dinner—a row commenced with Caclard in French, I don't know what they said—I asked Caclard what he was rowing about—he said they had had a row on board ship—the prisoner said if he could not fight him he would take a knife to him—Caclard struck the prisoner first with his fist in the head—the prisoner then got up from the dinner-table and they had a fight in the kitchen—they were fighting and jangling about, and the prisoner ran from the kitchen to the shop and came back with a sheath knife in his hand and stabbed Caclard in the shoulder—he was standing with his back to the prisoner and did not see the knife—the prisoner did not say anything when he stabbed him—Caclard ran out into the street and the prisoner after him, and he threw the knife away—this is it (produced)—it is not the knife he was eating his dinner with—I never noticed him carrying a knife in his belt—he was a little the worse for drink, Caclard was not.

THOMAS SHELDON (Policeman H 76). I took the prisoner into custody—Caclard gave him in charge—the landlord gave me this knife—I told the prisoner he would be charged with stabbing the prosecutor in the left shoulder—he said "All right, sir."

GEORGE BAXTER PHILLIPS . I am a surgeon, of 2, Spital Square—on 30th May I was called to the Leman Street station, and saw Caclard there and examined him—he had a clean-cut penetrating wound, which went through the armpit in front of the left shoulder to the collar-bone—it was a dangerous wound—it did not penetrate the cavity of the chest, but it must have been within an eighth of an inch of it; the large vessels and artery were in the immediate neighbourhood of the wound; in fact, I would not put an instrument there for anything—such a knife as this might have caused the wound, if used with considerable force; the point is very blunt—it went through the clothes—he was under my observation for a week; he was then obliged to leave because he could not pay his lodging, and I did not see him afterwards—from the serious nature of the wound his arm would be weakened, and he would be liable to traumatic aneurism at any time.

Prisoner's Defence. The man wanted to fight with me; I did not want to tight He asked me for some money to drink, and I would not give him any. He hit me twice, once in the eye and once behind the ear; and when 1 found the blood running, I took my knife. I always carry it; I had it with me at the time. I did not fetch it out of the other room.

THOMAS SHELDON (Re-examined). There was a little bit of a speck on the prisoner's nose; I did not see any blood; just the skin taken off, that was all.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-642

642. HENRY ERRATT (19), PATRICK ROACH (20), and JOHN HAYES (19) , Rape on Margaret Donohue.

MR. WHITE Prosecuted; MR. KEITH FRITH Defended Erratt.


Erratt and Roach were also charged with unlawfully assaulting the constable, Timothy Keohan, in the execution of his duty, to which they

PLEADED GUILTY. ERRATT— One Month's Imprisonment.

ROACH— Six Months' Imprisonmnent.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-643

643. EDMUND REILLY (39) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of James Moore, and stealing therein a bottle of brandy and other articles, and 17s. in money.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-644

644. ALBERT O'DWYER (30), WILLIAM GILBERT (21), and CHARLES LAURIE (23) , Stealing (together with Edwin Clark Bodley and Christopher Dannett, not in custody) 49 cwt of wheat sweepings, the goods of the London and St. Katherine Dock Company, their masters.


MESSRS. J. P. GRAIN and TICKELL Prosecuted; MESSRS. FULTON and PURCELL Defended Laurie.

ALFRED MASSON . I am a clerk to Messrs. Tamvaco and Co., and have the privilege of purchasing wheat sweepings, which are generally sold privately, but sometimes by auction—I have a right of preemption—on or about March 13th I purchased, amongst other things, some wheat sweepings ex Mabel from Calcutta, and received in due course from Tamvaco and Co. a delivery order—I keep a delivery order book in the office, and all delivery orders have counterfoils like cheques—I took them about a week afterwards to O'Dwyer at the general office, for the purpose of obtaining the exact weights of the goods I had purchased, and to see if they stood in the name of Tamvaco—O'Dwyer is in the employ of the Docks Company—some two or three days afterwards I received back this order (produced), with a piece of paper attached, giving details of exact weights—I retained it, and put the original or prime order in an envelope addressed to O'Dwyer, and posted it—I have never received it back; if returned by the Post-office it would have come to the firm—it was to this effect: "London, 13th March, Victoria Dock. Weigh and deliver to the order of A. Masson 49 cwt wheat sweepings, ex Mabel, Captain—, from Calcutta, warehoused by selves,' 1879;" marks and numbers, "7 M. L."—it was signed by Tamvaco and Co.—I sold Mr. Dannett the 49 cwt of wheat sweepings about 25th March, but kept no books or record of the transaction—I handed a sub-order signed by myself to Dannett—the delivery order is part of the prime order—those are all the goods I ever sold to him—I met him about a fortnight after on my return, after absence from town.

JOHN HALLIDAY . I am employed as clerk, at the B and K Jetty, Victoria Docks—Bodley was delivery foreman and Laurie was quay foreman there—on Friday, 28th March, Bodley was absent and Laurie was acting as foreman in his absence—Seymour, the carman, presented to me this order (produced) with two others—I took them to the general office and saw O'Dwyer there—I showed him the orders and asked for the landing books; but he said, "You will not require them"—I went back to the B and K department and saw Laurie there and laid the order on his desk in the delivery foreman's office—no one else was there, he was in charge of the premises—I saw the wheat sweepings loaded; Laurie was present, and told me which was the pile to deliver from, and got the man to deliver them, and I took down the weights as they were weighed and loaded; 21 sacks weighing 49 cwt into Green-wood's van—the loading was under Laurie's superintendence—I told him

the total weight and left the piece of paper containing the weights on his desk after I got the sweepings, and told him at the same time that it was the total weight—I ought to have had the landing-book to enter the weights in it—I did not do so—the total weights should have been endorsed on the back of the order by Laurie, and he would then give it to the carman—Laurie made no entry then of the 49 cwt.—I did not see the carman sign the warehouse receipt book, it was Laurie's duty to see that he did so—it contained a receipt for the goods, and should be signed by the carman—I saw another of Greenwood's vans there later on that afternoon, and it took 14 bags of linseed and 3 other bags—next day, Saturday, 29th March, I saw the same van and the same carman there again that had taken the 49 cwt., and in the same shed (No. 5), and Bodley superintending it; and I saw Laurie and Bodley talking together between 9 and 10 am., but did not hear what they said.

Cross-examined. Thompson, the warehouse cooper, is here—Bodley's is the delivery foreman's office, about halfway down the dock, and Laurie is employed as quay foreman in another small office by himself at the bottom of the quay, some distance from Bodley's office—in the after part of the day Laurie was acting for Bodley and also attending to his own duties—I left the particulars of the total weights on a piece of paper on the desk with Laurie—I was going backwards and forwards from the general office to the delivery office that morning—the van arrived between 2 and 3, Bodley went between 12 and 1, up to which time he had been acting for himself—I do not know why he went away—he did not return that day that I know of—I did not hear that he had asked leave to go to a funeral—he came next morning as usual—there was no one else with Laurie in the delivery office, but others were about the place and could see inside, as it has a glass front—there were many people looking in—Mr. Gregg would not be at the Victoria Docks—I have been two and a half years in the company's service—I am acting clerk and go backwards and forwards to the delivery office.

Re-examined. The people about were labourers and persons passing on business—it was Laurie's duty to superintend the delivery of the goods on the afternoon of 28th March in Bodley's absence—I was not instructed not to enter the weights, but when I went for the book I was told I should not require it—Laurie told me to take them on a "piece of paper—he has been there longer than I have, but has not been quay foreman six months; he was promoted by the company—I knew the delivery of the 49 cwt. was irregular without the landing-book—I saw the warehouse receipt book on the delivery foreman's desk where Laurie was—I knew it was his duty to take the carman's receipt in that book—the other two orders I took there were for 14 bags linseed, ex Brenelda, and 3 other bags ex Mabel—I saw them delivered to Greenwood's carman in the van that ultimately took the wheat—Laurie superintended the delivery—I saw no warehouse receipt book used, and they are not entered in this (warehouse book), and no landing book was used—I did not see him give the carman any papers in reference to the wheat or the linseed—I have not seen Laurie at the docks since that day.

By MR. FULTON. I don't know of any case where no entries are made in the warehouse book when goods are delivered—a number of cars may be there at the same time, and it is the delivery foreman's duty to take a receipt in the warehouse book for each delivery, and that is always done—it has happened on former occasions that the landing book was not there,

because it could not be found, and it might have happened when it could be found, but was not brought down for some reason or other.

By the COURT. I did not see it in O'Dwyer's office; the books are kept in the cupboard—I go in the office, but in another department; I am not a messenger; I am a clerk, but sometimes backwards and forwards, and do not sit much in the office; I did not know that the receipt was not taken that day; it is not my duty to see that it is done.

DAVID SEYMOUR . I am one of Mr. Greenwood's carmen; I knew Mr. Dannett, and used to carry a good deal of grain and linseed for him—I went to his premises by my master's orders on 28th March, and received a letter addressed to O'Dwyer at the docks, and was instructed to get a load of wheat sweepings—the dock gatekeeper directed me the general office, where I saw O'Dwyer, and gave him the letter, and he opened it, and read it—he then looked among some books, and handed me these three orders (produced), which by his directions I took to the B and K jetty—I had been there three or four times before for Dannett for sweepings, and other carriers had been there for my master—I generally saw Bodley there, but Laurie was there on 28th March; I had not seen him there before—I took Laurie the order, and said I had come for a load of sweepings for Mr. Dannett—he said "All right, back in at the jetty"—I gave the orders to some one inside the delivery foreman's box—Laurie and Halliday and one or two others were there—that is the proper place to deliver the orders—I was on the van, and other men were loading—I did not see whether Laurie superintended the delivery of the goods—I usually get the order back with a weight note after getting the goods, which I take to O'Dwyer to get my pass—on this occasion I got my pass from the general office—Laurie did not return me the order, or give me a weight note, but told me to go to the general office—I was not asked to sign a receipt for the 49 cwt; I never signed one at the docks, except on the Saturday—O'Dwyer gave me a pass at the office, and I left it with Hoper the gatekeeper; I could not pass out without it—on Saturday morning, 29th March, I went again to Dannett's place by my master's orders—Dannett's foreman sent me to the Victoria Docks for another load of wheat sweepings, but no papers were given me—when I got inside the gate I saw Gilbert standing outside the general office, and by his. directions I went to the B and K department, No. 5, where I had been the day before—I saw Bodley there, and got the same quantity of wheat sweepings, 49 cwt, in 21 full sacks, without any order—the receipt book was then shown to me, and I signed "D. Seymour," under "ex Mabel, delivered to Greenwood's van, 49 cwt sweeping"—Bodley gave me the pass (produced)—I did not go to the general office at all—the pass was taken front me at the gate, and I was stopped—I delivered the previous load on 28th March at Dannett's, Oscar Wharf.

Cross-examined. I did not see Laurie on the 29th, but the previous, day he was there doing duty for Bodley—I never noticed him there before—Bodley acted as delivery foreman on all former occasions—I never signed the receipt book except on the 29th—I have never noticed this landing book (produced).

WILLIAM GILBERT (the Prisoner). I have been in the service of the docks six years; I went at a salary of 5s. or 6s. and have been raised by degrees to 21s. a week—I was under O'Dwyer in the general office, and know Dannett, of Oscar Wharf—O'Dwyer introduced him to me fourteen or fifteen

months ago—I have known Laurie ever since I have been in the docks, but only about six months to speak to—I first learned about nine or twelve months ago that deliveries of sweepings were being made from the B and K jetty for which no orders were received—O'Dwyer used to speak to me and give me the orders, and was very friendly—it was something unusual—Dannett has given me 2s. 6d., and on one occasion 10s.—the previous day's passes used to be brought from the examiner's desk by O'Dwyer's orders, and it struck me as irregular when I saw him dealing with them, as they ought not to be out of the examiner's office strictly, and I spoke to O'Dwyer about it—the books from the general office were not sent to the examiners, but the day-book from the jetty used to go there to be checked with the passes—I had a conversation with Laurie afterwards—it is about six months since I first saw him on this matter—if we had an order O'Dwyer used to send me over to ask Laurie to endorse the order for the delivery—I was under his directions—if a carman was there I was to see whether Laurie would load the van without endorsing the order, the object being to get the load out without any note being taken—Laurie did do this on that day—I have not seen him personally more than three times—I have not noticed O'Dwyer and Laurie together—when I went to Laurie with these orders I used to say, "Will you back the orders up?"—he would say if it could be done or not, but could not give an answer till the van was loaded, and would then say "I will let you know"—he never expressed any surprise, it used to be understood—he would let me know when the van was loaded, and would apply for the pass, and might once bring over the order himself, but it would be unusual for him to come to the office, being quay foreman—I ascertained for a fact that goods had been delivered and that the orders had not been endorsed—I believe nothing was said as to whether he should come himself or not—O'Dwyer and I used to work it so that I should go—I saw Laurie again after the goods were loaded, and he gave me two orders; one was endorsed and the other partly endorsed—I got the orders back unendorsed on one occasion, and passes were then made out, and no entries were made in our books in the office of the delivery of the goods—we seldom talked about these deliveries, and I always used as few words as possible to Laurie—I had seen him on 28th March, when Greenwood's van was there, and I went to see whether he was going to endorse the delivery orders which he then had—I took him this order (produced) for 14 bags, but had not seen this (produced) with reference to the sweepings—I saw this (produced) for the linseed—I did not take it over—from something O'Dwyer told me I went over to see Bodley; he was not there, but I saw Laurie there, and I said to him, "Are you going to load the van?" and I understood that he would do it—he knew what I came about, as the van was there—I do not remember his answer—I went back to the general office and saw O'Dwyer, and in consequence of a conversation with him I went back again to Laurie, and the van was still there—I asked him the number of sacks of linseed which the van would have in—he gave me these two linseed orders, but did not say anything, as two or three clerks were in the office at the time—he was just endorsing the orders, and stopped when he saw me and gave the orders to me—they ought to be given to the carman to bring to the office for his pass—he only gave me those two orders—he gave me the number of sacks that were in the van, and I went to the general office and saw O'Dwyer, and then made out a pass for them—one order was endorsed "Weight cut

started and delivered 3 bags linseed, 28th March, 1879, C. Laurie," and the other "Weight cut started and delivered"—the pass was for sacks, but whether for seed or wheat I could not say—I put on the pass "Sundry ships"—I had not received the order for 49 cwt. wheat sweepings, and Laurie did not hand it to me on the Friday—I simply made out the pass from memory on the information Laurie had given me—Bodley was delivery foreman at B and K—I had had similar communications with Bodley, and I always saw Bodley when he was there, but on one or two occasions in his absence Laurie took his place, and that is how I met him—I have more than once gone back to the office, and made out passes simply from the information he gave me, without the orders, as I did for Laurie—they worked at the same jetty on the same quay—on Saturday morning, the 29th, the bundle of passes from the examiner's office were had at the desk in the general office, and I looked over them and tore out two passes, one of which I had written the previous afternoon—I gave them to O'Dwyer in the office—they related to seed or wheat delivered on the Friday without the orders being properly backed—I got three blank passes from the books and met O'Dwyer and Dannett at the Custom House Hotel, outside the docks—I gave them to O'Dwyer, and he signed them—I was standing outside the gate when Greenwood's carman came, I was not there purposely, but had just come from B jetty—I had been to see Bodley and Laurie after O'Dwyer had signed the passes—I gave them to Bodley with a letter from O'Dwyer, and I spoke to him about loading the van—he said "Have you seen the van?"—I said "No"—I went back to the general office and saw the carman coming in with the van and I directed him to go to B K—I then went into the office to my regular duties—I went again to Bodley, made out the pass, Bodley told me how many sacks were in the van, and then I filled in the number in his office and gave the pass to Bodley—I cannot say that I had seen O'Dwyer and Bodley in conversation before the 28th March—I have seen them together inside the docks, but nowhere else—I have had money from Dannett and O'Dwyer—I am not well up in the duties Laurie had to do—I believe I was down in A jetty when the van was stopped, I did not see it, but heard; Mr. Wood told me of it after—I saw the order of 25th March signed "Alfred Masson" on 29th, Bodley had it in his delivery foreman's box, and I saw him endorse it "On delivery to Greenwood's van, 49 cwt. sweepings. E. C. Bodley, 29th March, 1879," and I took it back to the general office—O'Dwyer was not there—I did not bring it away, I left it in Bodley's box—if the suborder on the 28th came to the docks it would have been O'Dwyer's duty to compare it with the entry ex Mabel in Ledger 24 (produced) to see if it was in order, and whether the prime order had been lodged, and then enter it and endorse the order for delivery and hand it back to the carman who brought it, to take to the quay, and having received the goods, the carman should come back to the general office with the order and apply for a pass—the order would then be put on a file by the clerk who made out the pass—the date and quantity would next morning be entered from the order into the ledger—we would then know by reference to the ledger whether any goods were standing to the order of that account—those entries were not made in the case of the delivery on the 28th March of the 49 cwt, or of the linseed—I have been with O'Dwyer to Dennett's house; I did not go in, but waited in the street till he came back to me—I and O'Dwyer have pleaded

guilty to stealing the 49 cwt.—Bodley and Laurie were the only people so far as I know who superintended the delivery at that quay—I believe they had the linseed sweepings under their control, but I do not know much about the warehouse—I made a statement at the office to Mr. Walker the day after the van was stopped—Mr. Stewart was present—O'Dwyer also made a statement—I was called as a witness and gave evidence at the police-court after I was arrested—I have not seen Dannett or Bodley since 29th March, nor Laurie until his arrest about two months afterwards.

Cross-examined. I saw Mr. Stewart on the Monday morning and was suspended on Tuesday, April 1st—I have seen Laurie on two or three occasions at the delivery office, and I know that on two occasions while he was acting as delivery foreman I saw him about the orders—I made a statement at the gaol before giving evidence at the police-court, to the solicitor for the prosecution, and it was taken down in shorthand—I did not say anything at the police-court about having spoken to Laurie on two or three occasions with respect to this matter; I was not questioned—it was about fifteen months ago that O'Dwyer first told me how this was done—he has given me money at different times, and I have had as much as 2l. at a time from him, and have had sometimes as much as 15l. to hold for him—I have not received more than 1l. from Dannett—I could not say how many times I have seen Bodley for the purpose of having these orders not backed, but I think more than six times within less than fifteen months—about fifteen months ago O'Dwyer told me to assist, and I began soon after, and Bodley was the delivery foreman—sometimes we got goods out in this way two or three times a month, but sometimes we did none for two or three months—I have no idea as to when I first saw Laurie acting for Bodley—I should think Bodley was not there, but I have seen him when Bodley was there—I went to see either of them; Bodley understood the business, and if he was there I did not speak to Laurie—nobody was present but the shorthand writer when my statement was taken down—I saw Laurie on the Saturday between 1 and 2 o'clock before the second delivery.

Re-examined. Mr. Palmer was the solicitor, the particulars were explained to him, and the clerk was sent for and took down my observations in shorthand—when Bodley was present I did not want to speak to Laurie, but in Bodley's absence Laurie was the person who was to do it.

ALEXANDER STEWART . I am chief clerk in charge of the general office of the Victoria Docks—O'Dwyer was a clerk there, and Gilbert was under him—I partly heard Gilbert's evidence—on goods arriving they are entered in a particular shipment in a ledger by some one in the general office—an account is opened to a particular ship and for a particular consignee—this (produced) is the entry in respect of the ship Mabel of Messrs. Tamvaco's goods—on arrival the sound bags are discharged from the ship, and what remains in the ship goes by the term "sweepings," which are taken out and put all together and the total weight estimated by the quay foreman—Laurie was the quay foreman in the month of March last, and for three or four months previously—he would give to the shipbroker the information to enable him to apportion the sweepings among the different consignees—the next thing would be to allot them, and to see that the merchants concerned had the particulars—Laurie would not do that, but would have control over the work—it was his duty to see that returns of the apportionments were

sent to the general office to go into the ledger—I find an entry at folio 299, ledger 24, of 49 cwt. of sweepings due to Messrs. Tamvaco ex Mabel—it is entered by a clerk—the ledger was under O'Dwyer's control, and there should be a stowage book—when an order is presented the ledger is referred to by the ledger clerk O'Dwyer or one of his assistants, who would compare it with the ledger to see that the order was in every respect correct—he would then enter it in the register order book, and from there post it in the ledger, then write instructions for delivery, and sign the order and instructions and hand back the order to the carman presenting it to take to the delivery foreman (Bodley), who would search out the goods and give instructions for delivery—immediately after delivery the foreman would take the carman's receipt in the warehouse receipt-book, enter the orders and particulars of delivery in the day-book, and refer the carman to the general office for his pass—the pass would be prepared under the direction of the senior of the division, O'Dwyer, who before issuing the pass would see that the order had been properly endorsed by the foreman; the order would then be retained in the office, the record of the delivery to be posted in the ledger afterwards—the original entry would be in a separate column, the order column; there is another column for particulars of delivery, headed "actual delivery"—they would be posted in the ledger to one entry, but to different columns and at different times—the record is then complete—with reference to the 49 cwt sweepings, ex Mabel, delivered 28th March, there is no entry in the order column or the actual delivery column—as far as the ledger was concerned, on 1st April there were still 49 cwt. of sweepings standing to the order of Tamvaco and Co.—upon an order being presented on 29th March it would appear that no delivery had been made of that 49 cwt.—I have examined the register order book—there is an entry on 27th March of an order No. 1076 under the heading "Ship's name" Mabel, ledger reference 24, fol 299, "description of goods" wheat sweepings—I think it is O'Dwyer's writing—it shows that at the chief office a delivery order was received by O'Dwyer in respect of goods ex Mabel—there is no entry of the delivery order in the ledger—the delivery order itself is always posted in the ledger—there is no record whatever in the day-book of any delivery on 28th March—this (produced) is the foreman's day-book, in which the foreman should post up his work as it is completed, but there is no record in it of the 49 cwt. sweepings ex Mabel on 28th March, but there are other entries of that date, I cannot say whose handwriting, and there ought to be a record of that delivery—there should also be an entry in the warehouse book, but there is not—I think Laurie has been in the docks seven or eight years—he was a permanent foreman, which is a rank above a permanent labourer—he was in a position of trust—he came first as a messenger—I have searched amongst all the papers, and find no delivery order for delivery of the goods ex Mabel—I find no pass for the 17 bags linseed or the 49 bags wheat sweepings on 28th March—O'Dwyer and Gilbert made statements in my presence on 1st April—I did not seek for Laurie, and do not know the last time he came to the docks.

Cross-examined. This day-book was kept by Bodley—I do not know if Laurie was doing Bodley's work that day—he would apply to Mr. Thompson, the warehouse keeper, for leave of absence—Laurie came, I think, in 1869 as a messenger, and has been gradually promoted to quay foreman—I should not know if he absented himself without leave.

GEORGE THOMPSON . I am warehouse-keeper at B and K jetty, I last saw Bodley and Laurie at the docks about noon on 29th March.

Cross-examined. Laurie returned about noon on Saturday—Bodley applied to me on 28th about 10 o'clock to go to a funeral—Laurie has twice absented himself without leave, and was cautioned that if he did so again he would be discharged—on the morning of 29th March, a little before 12, he came to me and asked leave for the afternoon, and I refused, as I told him I was going away myself—I was away in the afternoon, and cannot say whether he absented himself.

WILLIAM WALTER SOLIS . I was junior clerk in the examiner's office at the general office of the Victoria Docks, and fetched the passes for the previous day from the police office on the morning of 29th March—they are left there every night—they were tied in a bundle—I put them on my desk in the examiner's office—Gilbert came about 10 o'clock, and in consequence of what he said I allowed him to have the passes—I went to him at 1.30 as he had not returned them, and got them from him and brought them back and put them in my desk—I did not examine the bundle before I gave them to Gilbert, but have examined them since and found no pass with reference to the 49 cwt. wheat sweepings on 28th March—I had never given him passes before.

THOMAS HOPER . I am a gatekeeper, and take the passes at Victoria Docks—I was on duty at the principal entrance on 28th March, and between one and two Seymour, Mr. Greenwood's carter, came to the gate and showed me an envelope addressed to O'Dwyer—I told him where to take it, and he went into the docks with his van—he brought the van out at the gate between three and four loaded with 21 sacks of sweepings, and gave me a pass signed by O'Dwyer—at the end of the day I tied up the passes received that day in a bundle, and that pass was there—I remember the pass well.

HENRY GETLING . I am inspector of the London and St. Katharine's Dock Police, Victoria Dock—in consequence of what I heard I stopped Seymour with Greenwood's van as it was leaving the dock on 29th March about 3.45—it was loaded with 49 cwt. of wheat sweepings in 21 sacks—I took from Seymour this pass (produced).

JOHN SMITH (Detective Sergeant). I received this warrant dated 18th April for Laurie's apprehension, and apprehended him on 26th May at the police station, Arbour Square—he was sent there by Superintendent Grigg—I read the warrant to him, and he made no reply—I also took Gilbert and O'Dwyer into custody—I have warrants for Bodley and Dannett, but they have not been found.

Cross-examined. Laurie had himself gone to the superintendent.


Reference Number: t18790630-645

645. O'DWYER and GILBERT were again indicted, with HENRY STARKEY (50), for feloniously stealing and receiving 3 tons and 2 1/2 tons of linseed sweepings, the goods of the St. Katharine's Dock Company, the masters of O'Dwyer and Gilbert.


ALEXANDER STEWART (Chief Clerk) again described, as in his previous evidence, the course of business at the docks. I do not find in the books any

record of delivery of 28 sacks linseed to Tripp's cart on or about 21st March, 1879—this order has been lodged at the chief office—it is an order by Starkey, March 14th, 1879, for delivering 28 bags linseed to order of 6. and A. R. Barnett, ex Royal Alice, endorsed as delivered 15th March, 1879; also 25th March, 1879; further delivery signed "G. Gair" of 44 bags linseed to Wynn's van in two stacks—the endorsement by Starkey, "Weigh over and hold to my order, Royal Alice," is not the way it should be endorsed if he desired to use it to get the goods out of dock; there should, in addition to the prime order, have been a sub-order directing delivery to a certain conveyance—you cannot use the prime order to get delivery unless the instructions are clear to deliver; it gives authority merely for the goods to be weighed over and restowed—the endorsement of Gair indicates a delivery on March 25th, 1879, of those sacks—I examined the ledger subsequently on 1st April, after certain inquiries had been made, and found no entries of delivery of these goods—there is no entry of that delivery in Bodley's day-book—there is an entry on the 25th in the day-book—I have found no pass with reference to the 21st or 25th, and no sub-orders—I find these two prime orders (produced) were lodged at the docks on or about 22nd March for goods ex Mabel and ex Gilbert Thompson. (Read: "Please weigh and deliver to the order of Mr. G. A. R. Barnett, ex Mabel, of Calcutta. Charges to him from 31st March, 1879. Lot 5, about 2 cwt 2 qrs., linseed sweepings; Lot 6, about 2 cwt 2 qrs., same ditto; Lot 7, 2 cwt. 3 qrs., linseed sweepings, ditto. Signed, "per pro George Soames, Son, and Co. W. P. Drew." Endorsed, "Weigh and deliver to Mr. H. Starkey or order with charges as within. J. A. R. Barnett." Farther endorsed, "Please hold over and deliver to nay sub-order. H. Starkey." Another order, "Please weigh and deliver to the order of Mr. G. A. R. Barnett, ex Gilbert Thompson, from Calcutta, charges to him from 31st March, 1879. Lot 17, about 21 cwt. linseed sweepings." Signed, "Per pro George Soames, Son, and Co., W. P. Drew." Endorsed, "Weigh and deliver to Mr. H. Starkey or order charges as within. Geo. A. R. Barnett." Further endorsed, "Please hold and deliver to my sub-order. H. Starkey.") I also find on the same date that these two sub-orders were left at the docks (both dated March 20th, 1879), "Please weigh and deliver to R. C. Wynn's van the undermentioned goods, ship Mabel, Captain—from Calcutta. Lot 5," &c. "Order lodged. H. Starkey." Also, "To Wynn's van the undermentioned goods, ship Gilbert Thompson, Captain—, Calcutta. Lot 17," &c. "Order lodged. H. Starkey." Endorsed, "Deliver Wynn's van charges," account struck through, "A. O'Dwyer.") That pass signed by O'Dwyer I find amongst the passes—it is his signature. (Read: "Department B, 27th March, 1879. To the Dock-master or Gatekeeper. Permit Wynn's van to pass with 30 sacks linseed and a quantity of bags. Ships' names Gilbert Thompson and Mabel. Signed, A. O'Dwyer.") The goods contained in the two sub-orders, ex Mabel and Gilbert Thompson, have not been marked off in the ledger—I find ex Royal Alice that Starkey had only one lot of 44 sacks standing to his order, and had no other goods except the Gilbert Thompson and Mabel—I find no record of the delivery on the 27th except the pass—there is no endorsement on the back of the two sub-orders—up to the time I gathered information about this matter there were no means of tracing the delivery on the 27th in any books or documents of the company—I have gone through the delivery of all goods to Starkey

from 25th February to the end of March, and have taken the tonnage, &c.—I find by the ledger the whole tonnage is about 16 1/2 tons—that includes a delivery to Starkey of 132 bags ex Mabel, which has nothing to do with the delivery ex Mabel we are now dealing with—after certain matters had been gone into on or about 1st April, I received these two sub-orders; they were presented on the 7th April. (Dated April 5th, 1879, "Please deliver to T. Lee's van ex the Mabel" (Lots 5, 6, and 7), order lodged for H. Starkey." Second same date, "T. Lee's van ex Gilbert Thompson" (Lot 17), &c., "H. Starkey.") They are, except the vans, identically a copy of the two sub-orders which have been produced dated March 20th—I had made certain discoveries on Saturday, 29th March, and refused delivery—the weight of the 30 sacks of linseed would be about 2 1/2 tons—the weight of goods Starkey was entitled to on 27th March ex Mabel and Gilbert Thompson was about 26 cwt. 1 qr.—I have not seen Bodley at the docks since about 1st April—O'Dwyer came on 1st April, but not since—Bodley has not been found.

Cross-examined by O'Dwyer. In the order for 44 bags Royal Alice it was clear charges account—the pass would be given at the south side.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The weighing of the Dock Company is conclusive as between buyer and seller—the seller would invoice the goods from our weights—a cart note should be sent with each delivery, and it is generally done—it is a duty connected with the outdoor department—I am not aware of 7 cwt. of rape seed having been delivered from the ship Marian on 28th May, 1879, without any description whatever—I have no personal knowledge of goods being delivered without a cart note—132 bags of linseed would be about 194 cwt. or 9 3/4 tons—I think it would be three loads—a prime order might be a good delivery order if endorsed for delivery to the conveyance—it would then be treated as a sub-order and cover the full extent of the order—it would be returned to the carman—in reference to the delivery of the 28 sacks (44 bags), 28th March, I find no record in any of the books—if there had been in that case a prime order endorsed as a sub-order I should expect to find an entry in the warehouse book by the foreman Gair—it would be his duty to enter it—the proprietor of goods may send his conveyances-as he pleases—I did not see the 32 bags or the 132 bags leaving the Dock Company's premises—the books show that the bags left between the 18th and 20th March; but I have no actual knowledge of the delivery—it would be the ledger clerk's duty, one of O'Dwyer's assistants, at the office to enter the 132 bags—the evidence of the delivery I find in the ledger, the day books, and orders endorsed by the foreman and the warehouse receipt book—I have gone over those books and satisfied myself that the entry is made in them and the order is endorsed.

Re-examined. The order for 132 bags was lodged on 17th March. (Read: 14th March, 1879, from 22, Winchester Street to the Superintendent, Victoria Docks. Please weigh and deliver to order of Mr. G. A. R. Barnett the undermentioned linseed in ship Mabel, Captain——from Calcutta, charges from 17th March to be paid by him. No. 93, 93 bags. Signed, John Draper, endorsed 15th March, 1879, weigh and deliver to Mr. H. Starkey or order charges as within. Geo. A. R Barnett, further endorsed, weigh and deliver to my sub-order. H. Starkey.) I find this sub-order (produced) was lodged on 19th March, and is for the same goods

—the delivery in this case was completed on 19th and 20th—that is straightforward and properly entered—I include the 132 bags in my estimate of the 16 tons gone out from 25th February to 19th March—they have nothing to do with the delivery of the 21 sacks ex Royal Alice, or the 27 sacks ex Gilbert Thompson and Mabel.

By MR. GBOGHEOAN. The document produced as to the 132 bags and bearing the different endorsements of the number of bags sent away on different dates is in Bodley's handwriting—he has absconded—there is one pass, but many are missing—I have a pass for 30 sacks, part of the 132, and there are the usual entries in reference to the 132 bags.

JOHN TRIPP . I am carman to Mr. Wynn, greengrocer—I have known Starkey four or five months by working for Mr. Wynn and taking his orders to the docks and have frequently fetched linseed for Starkey from the Victoria Docks, and sometimes from the South West India Docks—there is a private toll at the Victoria Docks and carriers have to take a ticket there and pay 6d.—I did not have to show the tickets to my master—Starkey gave me the money before I started; I put them in my pocket and should give them up if asked for them—I found these toll tickets (produced) in my pocket; I believe I have lost some—these show that I went for Starkey on 19th March twice to the docks; once on March 20th and between 18th and 27th ten times, all for Starkey, nobody else paid me for the toll—I took no orders or papers—I have been to the south side twice—mine is a two horse van—the horses will draw 3 1/2 tons, but I do not put on so much; I put on a fair load—the first time I had about 2 tons of linseed—I signed a book only once, and that was on the south side—we are supposed to sign always—I got my pass on the other side from the foreman—I had an order from the south side—I got the pass from there, I didn't go to the general office; I went across the ferry to the general office and asked for an order for Mr. Starkey, if they had got one on the south side, and I took it back and got the goods—I did not take the order I had previously got to the general office—I got my pass on the spot and went out of the docks with it—I ought to have taken it to the chief office, but I did not know at the time—I gave up my pass at the gate, they would not let me out without—I took the goods to Starkey's place, Victor Yard—there is room for a pair horse van to go through, it is not a large place—it is a little larger than this Court—on getting there I sometimes carried the goods out of the van and sometimes Starkey's men have carried them—the linseed was shot in a heap and weighed on the scales, and they wrote down the weight as it was weighed, that was always done—a cart note is a sub-order—I was sent again to the south side and saw Gair, the same foreman as before—I had no papers with me at all—I got the goods again about the same quantity as before, and took them to Starkey's, where they were weighed and shot—I got a pass for them from the foreman and did not go to the general office at all on that day—I went out of the docks and left my pass at the gate—I remember signing a book once (warehouse book produced), this is my signature, "Received into Wynn's van, 28 sacks linseed and 44 empty bags, 25th March, 1879, J. Tripp"—that is all I did—on the 27th I received further instructions from Wynn to go to Starkey—I received no papers from Starkey—I went with the two horse van to B jetty, without going to the chief office, and saw the foreman at No. 5 shed—I got 30 sacks (about 2 1/4 tons) of linseed, and a quantity of empty bags—I got

this pass from Bodley, the delivery foreman, and-left it at the dock gates without going to the chief office—I signed no receipt book—I ought to have taken an order, but never did so, I only applied for the goods and they were delivered to me—I have never been with a licensed carman—I had been as a carman on jobs to the docks before I went to Wynn's, but was not a regular carman and did not know much about the practice—I got the goods and did not think anything improper was going on—I took them to Starkey's place and they were unloaded, weighed, and shot.

Cross-examined by MR. MORICE. I don't know how many journeys I went to the docks for, Mr. Wynn—he works for other people besides Starkey, but I have only been once to the docks for another man, Mr. Watts, and that was some time before—I always came back with a load except once—I had no written orders to go to the docks—each journey took about four or five hours—I have made two journeys in one day—I got two toll tickets on the 18th and two on the 19th—I was always at work at 6 a.m.—the average load was 2 or 2 1/2 tons, I brought more sometimes—I could put 3 1/2 tons in the van, but the road is very heavy and I only took a fair load—I have had 4 tons on; they are only two ponies—if I had six tons to bring I should make 3 loads and a one-horse load to follow, if I could—if asked I should sign the warehouse receipt book—I believe it was my duty to sign it—I have been asked but not generally, and when asked I signed—I never had any papers but the pass, and have never taken papers from one office to another and back again except once, on the south side—the pass was all I wanted to get out of the dock, and I should not trouble about anything more unless asked—I did not think anything was wrong—if I had been accustomed to sign receipts and get other papers I should have asked for it, and might then have suspected there was something wrong—I had no memorandum of the weight of the goods and no account of charges against the goods—I have been stopped with timber because the charges were not paid before I came to Mr. Wynn—if any charges remained due they would stop the goods until they were paid—I do not know if part of the goods could be taken before paying the charges—I was never stopped for charges on goods in this case—I had instructions what part of the docks to go to—on one occasion I was sent to the north side, and Bodley told me at the docks to go and see O'Dwyer on the south side, and I did not knew where to go, and he did not tell me—I went home empty and told Mr. Starkey—that was the only lost journey—my first journey for Starkey was on a Shrove Tuesday, I do not know the month—I do not know the date of the last journey, I have it down in a book—it was linseed—I do not know what sweepings are—I have had rapeseed and linseed.

Re-examined. I had instructions from Starkey to go to the south side on the day I could not find the place, and went to B jetty—I had not been before—I was told by Bodley to go to the other side, to O'Dwyer, but I did not know him, and I went home as it was late—I had no papers—Starkey never gave me any money to pay the dock charges.

ALEXANDER STEWART (Re-examined). We have a system at the docks by which customers deposit money and open a deposit account, and when they clear goods the. charges on a particular parcel are carried to the debit of the deposit account as they occur—Starkey had no deposit account at the Victoria Docks.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The last dealing with Starkey

was, I think, about the middle of May—I cannot say how many transactions there were in May, or if he took any goods after 7th April, when the goods were stopped.

CHARLES RICHARD WYNN . I am a fruiterer and carman at 29, Roman Road, Old Ford, and have for some time past carried goods for Starkey from the docks to his own place—I gave this book (produced) to Starkey's son, and it was in their possession from February, 1879, till April—I last saw it there about 4th or 5th April, when I went for the purpose of looking at it—it had then pages at the beginning which are not there now—I made a copy of the entries in the book at the time on one of my bill-heads, and found he owed me for carriage from 24th February to April 2nd, 19l. 4s. 1d. (particulars produced)—I carried goods from the Victoria Docks to Starkey's between 24th February and 2nd April amounting to 34 tons 1 cwt 5lb.—I took those particulars from Starkey's book—after applying several times I obtained the book from Starkey's about the end of April to copy the dates, and when I received it it was without the leaves as it now is.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I carry on business with my father, and I manage the business—this is my book—we have a good many other customers, but we do not provide any of them with books—I gave this book to Starkey—it was an exceptional thing to give him the book, but I did so because I could not get the correct weights from the carman—I trusted to Starkey to keep the account, as the carman would not know the weights—I have carried to the docks, but not from there for anybody else—the carman should bring me the weight; I do not know if the Dock Company ought to give him the weights—he should get them from the man who hired him—all the carriage for Starkey was not from the Victoria Docks; a good deal has been to or from other places, the General Steam Navigation Company, the East and West India Dock Company, the West India Dock Company, Atkins's Wharf, and Rooks and Spencer—I gave the book to Henry Starkey in a perfect condition, and he returned it as it is about the end of April—it is a book I had by "me—I will not swear it was perfect—I could not rely on the weights given by the carman for any of the wharves; I could not check the weights.

Re-examined. I gave the book because I could get no check from Starkey—there were other leaves in it on 2nd April, from which I abstracted these particulars, and those leaves were gone when it was returned to me—in addition to the 34 tons between February 24th and April 2nd from Victoria Docks I also carted the following to or from other docks: 4 cwt and odd, Sharpe's Warf; 11 cwt. and odd, London Docks; 3 tons 8 cwt, St. John's Wharf; 7 tons 1 cwt odd, East India Docks, &c.; Blackfriars, 9 tons 19 cwt; Customs House Quay, 39 tons; from Grice's Granaries, 3 tons—Starkey owed me 19l. 4s. 4d. for work between 24th February and 2nd April—I have had transactions with him since 2nd April, but have not entered them in this other book; those are in my carman Tripp's handwriting.

WILLIAM GILBERT (the Prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to stealing from the Dock Company, which charge has no reference to this case—I was examined before the Justices' at Ilford on this charge—I have been in the company's service from about March, 1873, first as messenger, and rising up to be a clerk in the general office—my suspicions were aroused about fifteen

months ago by acts done by O'Dwyer and Dannett, who kept a grain wharf—I noticed that O'Dwyer went for the passes in a morning, or they were brought to him from the examiner's office—he occasionally sent me with messages to Bodley, the delivery foreman of B jetty, and I have seen Dannett and O'Dwyer together—Dannett has given me small sums of money occasionally—about six months ago I first discovered the matters to which I pleaded guilty yesterday—he said "If you can destroy any pass that I will tell you of, it will be to your interest to do so; I will pay you for it"—he said it would destroy any trace of the particular vanload going out, and no one would know it had gone out—he said if the order was not endorsed there would be no notice taken of the delivery, and he assured me that I should get into no trouble over it—I did afterwards destroy passes, sometimes two in one week—I have seen O'Dwyer with catalogues of sales of seed, and he has sent me on two occasions with a catalogue to Starkey after marking in pencil the parcels he wished to call Starkey's attention to—those parcels that were ticked were at the B and K jetty, the south side—I saw Starkey with them, and called his attention to the marked parcels, and he bought them—I have been to Starkey's house with O'Dwyer—on the first occasion he said "I am going to Starkey's house, and if you go with me it will be worth your while—I went with him, and stayed outside Starkey's house while he went in—they came out together and walked to a public-house in the Grove Road, and-went into the parlour—I was with a friend I had met, and I went in some time after, and saw them sitting there—O'Dwyer and I left and went to the Bombay Crab public-house, which is kept by a relation of O'Dwyer's—he told me on the way that he had four 5l. notes, and if I went down to his house he would give me some of it—he changed a note at the Bombay Crab, and gave me some money, 2l., I believe, when we came out—he said the best part of the money was for Bodley—I made a statement by the advice of the dock solicitor, which was taken down in shorthand before I gave evidence at Ilford—I do not recollect how much money I had altogether from O'Dwyer—I recollect Wynn's carman coming about the 29th March, and I was going to send the van away empty—I told O'Dwyer there were no orders for Wynn—O'Dwyer said he knew there were 44 bags for Starkey on hand, and he may as well deliver them instead of sending him back again—he said "Give me the order and I'll square it"—he did not mention the ship—he sent me to the drawer—I gave him the order (produced) 44 bags Royal Alice, which I got out of the bundle—it was tied up in the ordinary way in O'Dwyer's charge—Starkey wrote upon it in red ink "Cut start and delivered Wynn's van, charge account"—I told him it was not endorsed for delivery, and he said he would get Starkey to endorse it for delivery—the order came back to the general office next morning for endorsement, and I asked O'Dwyer whether he would see Starkey about it, and he told me to leave the order with him and he would get it endorsed by Starkey, and I then left the order with him—the goods had been delivered—the order was not in proper trim—if it were I ought to have marked the goods off in the ledger as delivered—if I had marked that off and any one had seen it they would want to know why I had done it—the goods were not marked off—I reminded him of it again, and he said he would get it done—it was never marked off up to the time the frauds were discovered—I saw Bodley and O'Dwyer talking together in the general office on the morning of 27th March, and O'Dwyer told me to make out a

pass for Wynn's van—I made out and he signed this pass (produced) (for 30 bags linseed, 2 1/4 tons, delivered 27th March, ex Gilbert Thompson and Mabel)—there were no orders at all—I gave the pass when made out to Bodley or O'Dwyer—it was utterly irregular, but this was not the first time—I believe Starkey had not a deposit account—the bill was kept back, and perhaps he would pay when he came down—I never saw Starkey come and pay the charges.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Everything is not done as it should be at the docks—I have destroyed passes only since January this year, I cannot say how many—sub-orders have passed through my hands—I left on 1st April—I began destroying passes late in February or early in Maich—I am not sure about the time; my memory is not good—I said at the police-court" During the last three or four months I have destroyed passes relating to sweepings going out by Wynn's vans for Starkey," but I was not certain—the solicitor did not say it would be a good thing for me to give evidence—he went to Mr. Humphreys for some particulars, and then asked me whether I would make a statement—I was told not to expect anything for making the statement—I believe I took time to think over it before joining in the frauds—I did not know Bodley for some time—I had not seen Starkey more than two or three times on this matter—I spoke to him near his house, and again at the dock, when I had taken him catalogues—the first time I spoke to him was when I met him at the station, and I gave him a catalogue of a sale on the Monday morning—I saw him in the Grove Road one Saturday evening, and went to his house—O'Dwyer was not with me on that occasion—I did not go in when O'Dwyer was with me—I was acting under O'Dwyer's orders in my regular duties, but documents given to me did not always pass through His hands—I should enter a sub-order if I was signing the book—I never destroyed a sub-order—at the time of my conversation with O'Dwyer about the 44 bags I knew Starkey had 44 bags there belonging to him, and I remember the 132 bags, but not the date—I never saw money pass between Starkey and O'Dwyer; I only know from what O'Dwyer told me, and I am not sure of the amount.

WILLIAM WALTER SOLIS . I am a clerk in the examiner's office, Victoria Docks—I compare the passes with the day-book, for which purpose I fetch the passes every morning from the dock police office referring to the previous day—I fetched away a bundle of passes on 28th March and found this pass among them. (27th March, 30 sacks.) I found no entry in the day-book of that delivery—I went to O'Dwyer, showed him the pass, and asked him to show me the orders—he said he knew nothing about it, and I was to wait till Gilbert came in—Gilbert came in, but did not give me the order—that gave me no opportunity of comparing that pass with the order.

Cross-examined by MR. GRUBBE. I have been at the docks about two years and seven months—I have not seen the sweepings; I have seen the passes—I do not know the meaning of the empty bags being sent—I was before the Magistrate at Stratford and heard you ask two or three witnesses that question—I have not taken the trouble to ascertain the meaning of it.

THOMAS GRIGG (Sergeant Dock Police). I went to Starkey's premises, Andrews Buildings, Old Ford Road, on 12th May—they are back buildings, behind a large terrace of houses, and seem to have been intended for a mews or stables for the houses—Starkey's premises were about 20 feet by 40 feet—there is a hayloft above—I saw Starkey and said "I have come from the

Victoria Docks in reference to two orders which you have sent for seed sweepings. How could you have sent for those seed sweepings, knowing that you had already received them?"—he said "I do not know that I have received them, and if the Dock Company can prove that I have received them I am satisfied"—I said "The Dock Company are in a position to know that you have received those goods. Your books ought to show that you had received them"—he said "I keep no books; I keep no record whatever of what I receive, and whatever has been delivered for me at the Victoria Docks I dare say I have received"—I said "This, probably, will turn out to be a very serious matter, Mr. Starkey, and it is necessary for you to post yourself up so as to let the Dock Company know why you sent for those goods on this day"—I said "How do you pay the carman, Wynn, for fetching your goods?"—he said "Sometimes I pay him directly he has done the job; at other times I pay him when it is convenient"—I said "Surely you keep some kind of books, Mr. Starkey?"—he said "No, I don't keep any kind of books whatever"—I asked him if he had any papers or receipts whatever which would throw any light upon the matter—he said "No, I have no papers or receipts of any kind".

Cross-examined by MR. GRUBBE. Stewart the chief clerk went with me to Starkey's place—the first time I went he was not there, and I left word with a workman that I would come again and wanted to see Starkey—I named the hour, and Starkey was there the next time I called—I have given all the particulars of our conversation—I do not think he said whatever he had had from the docks he had paid for—I have no knowledge about weight notes—he did not tell me he was in the Company's hands and trusted to them for the weights—I made no particular notes of what passed between us—I was only there a few minutes—he did not tell me he took his weights from the weights supplied by the Dock Company.

WILLIAM WALKER . I am chief superintendent of the Victoria Docks, and have a general knowledge of the whole of the matters in which the docks are concerned—Starkey came to my office after Mr. Grigg's visit—he said "I understand you have refused to deliver some seed I sent for"—I said "Yes, because we make out by our books that the seed has been delivered"—I said "Our clerk Mr. Stewart by the books makes all the seed to have been delivered to you except one or two small lots, about 5 cwt., but you are at perfect liberty to go through our ledgers with our chief clerk; and if you can show that you have not received the seed which he says has been delivered to you the Company will be liable for the cost"—he said "I will do this and see you again," and he left my office with Mr. Grigg, and I have not seen him again till yesterday in Court.

Cross-examined by MR. GRUBBE. I am the out-door superintendent—I was not aware Starkey was coming before I had that conversation with him—I had not examined the books, my chief clerk Mr. Stewart had done that, and it was from his statement I told Starkey the books showed there was only 5 cwt. to his credit.

ALEXANDER STEWART (Re-examined). The statement was upon a small memorandum, and is not in existence—it is 26 1/2 cwt. and a quarter, and dated 26th.

WILLIAM WALKER (Re-examined). I am not aware that 13 cwt. and 2 quarters linseed were standing on that day to Starkey's credit, or 3 cwt. linseed in addition to that—this conversation took place about 13th May—

all my information was founded upon what Mr. Stewart gave me—I am not aware that a van took away 13 cwt. of goods the next day for Starkey.

ALEXANDER STEWART (Re-examined). On 27th March the books show 26 cwt. 1 quarter linseed sweepings standing to Starkey's credit, ships Gilbert Thompson and Mabel—in the book produced there is entered to Starkey's account 13 cwt. 2 quarters 18 lb. Royal Alice—they stood to his order on 7th April, 1879; also 2 1/2 cwt. ex Mabel placed in Starkey's name, 7th April—I have not the ledger containing the Marian, City of Vienna, or Cuba—I find 5 cwt. 1 quarter linseed sweepings—the quantities mentioned are quantities delivered to Wynn's van—these are a portion of the 26 cwt. 1 quarter—this book shows that on 27th March 26 1/4 cwt. was standing to Starkey's credit—we do not prove delivery by this book, but by the pass—no alteration has been made in this book since it was at Stratford.

Starkey received a good character.


O'DWYER— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.

GILBERT— Three Months' Imprisonment.

STARKEY— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

LAURIE— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18790630-646

646. EDWIN HARVEY WADGE (42) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Henry William Rippin 240 brushes, 54 brooms, and other goods, with intent to defraud.


MR. PURCELL Defended.

HENRY WILLIAM RIPPIN . I am a brush and broom manufacturer, of High Street, Stratford—I advertised in the Daily Telegraph for a commercial traveller at the end of January last—I received this letter in reply (produced), and ultimately I appointed the prisoner my traveller—on the 4th February I received this letter, purporting to come from Joseph Potter, of Bovey Tracey, near Newton Abbot, Devizes—the order amounts to 14l. 2s. 1d. "To be forwarded immediately for settlement this month, E. H. Wadge"—that is in the prisoner's handwriting—I forwarded the goods with this invoice (produced), believing it to be an order from Potter given to Wadge—on 3rd May I went to Ashburton to a house occupied by the prisoner, where I found a portion of the goods forwarded—I got there at 10.30 p.m.—he came down to the door in answer to my knock; and said "Who is there?"—I said "Mr. Rippin from London"—he said "We have gone to bed"—I said "I don't care; I have come about my goods and my money"—he said "I cannot see you, I am going away early in the morning"—I said "Have you got any money?"—he said "Hush! wait a minute, I will get a light"—he brought down a small spirit lamp—I went in and we sat down. till 5 the following morning—he repeated that he wanted to go away by the first train—I asked him how it was that letters had been returned which 1 had written to people for payment—he said he could not understand it and would go round the following day and put it right—I have never received my money for those accounts, or answers to my letters—he said "I have done wrong, I have done wrong"—I asked him in what way, but he would not tell; and he said he would write me—he said he had a lot of my goods at a village called Buckfast, three miles from Ashburton—I walked there and found he had engaged a room at some beershop or inn—I found my

goods displayed, on a table upon trestles, as if an auction had taken place two or three days previously—I received this order (produced) to the amount of 8l. 7s. 8d. for a quantity of goods to be sent to Mr. Jabez Thornley, general dealer, Dawlish, South Devon—it is signed E. H. Wadge—I forwarded the goods believing the order to be true—I also received this order from the prisoner on the same day (produced) for 5l. 15s. 11d. worth of goods to be sent to Mr. Elias Frost, Teignmouth, South Devon—I forwarded the goods believing the order to be genuine—I have written to the parties several times for the money, but have never been paid—several of my letters have been returned through the dead letter office—the prisoner in his letter about Potter states that Potter had been touched by a bank failure—most of his letters are couched in the most religious terms—I never received from him one genuine order.

Cross-examined. I presumed the goods were going to the parties to whom I made out the invoices—one man's money would not be different to another's as far as I am concerned—I received one post-office order from him for 3l. 2s. 2d., that is all—I recovered the goods displayed for sale at Buckfast by acting on the advice of a solicitor in Exeter—I recovered some goods from his shop at Ashburton—there was no other name on the premises—I did not know he was in financial difficulties—I did not know there were judgments out against him until I got to Exeter, where I was told he was a rogue and vagabond.

WILLIAM SLEIGH (Policeman Devon Constabulary). I have been stationed at Bovey Tracey for 5 years and 8 months; we have about 2,500 inhabitants—there is no one there of the name of Joseph Potter—in February last I saw at the Temperance Hall some brooms, brushes, and galvanised buckets, which were announced for sale for the 18th February—I looked in and saw the prisoner selling the goods on a raised platform—he is not an auctioneer—I received this letter from the postmistress of Bovey Tracey.

HENRY WILLIAM RIPPIN (Re-examined). These documents are in the prisoner's handwriting. (One of these was a letter dated 17th March, 1879, signed Joseph Potter, from the post-office, Brixham, to the postmaster or mistress, Bovey Tracey, asking for all letters addressed to him there to be forwarded to the above address; and another was a post card dated February 14th, 1879, and was as follows: "To the Station Master, Bovey Tracey Railway. Dear Sir,—From advices this morning I should infer the goods would be at your station to-day or to-morrow. On Monday evening or Tuesday I hope to see you. Potter.")

JOHN HOLMES . I am in the service of my father, a carrier at Bovey Tracey—from instructions by post card I removed a quantity of goods from the railway station, Bovey Tracey, to the Temperance Hall, consisting of brushes, brooms, and other goods—I saw the prisoner there—I produce a railway delivery book—on the 19th February the prisoner called at my father's house and signed the book for the goods "Joseph Potter"—I afterwards from instructions received took those goods not sold to his house at Ashburton—I have known Bovey Tracey for twelve years, and never knew a Joseph Potter there.

WILLIAM THOMAS START . I am in the employ of the Great Western Railway Company as goods porter at Dawlish—on the 8th or 9th March last two packages of brushes, &c., were consigned to J. Thornley, Dawlish station—the prisoner came for them the day after they arrived and asked if the goods

were there for J. Thornley—I know no such name there—he signed the book in that name and took them away.

GEORGE CURME . I am proprietor of the Temperance Hall, Dawlish—I received a post card from the prisoner, by which I was to receive all letters for him in the name of Thornley—I have lived at Dawlish for 18 months, and do not know that name there.

WILLIAM DAVEY . I am a carrier, of Dawlish—on or about 8th March I received a post card purporting to come from Wadge. (Read: "Ashburton, April 17, 1879. My man informs me the goods are packed, and that there is 4s. to pay. If I am not up in a day or two send them on to order. I am truly yours, J. T.") That is in the prisoner's handwriting—he subsequently sent me a post-office order for the amount, and afterwards I received the following. (Read: 21st May, 1879. On Monday I sent you a post-office order for 4s., and asked you to forward the goods to me by rail here, which my man told me were packed by him some time ago. Have you received the order? I am in want of the brushes, and shall be glad of your immediate attention to the same, and oblige yours truly, E. H. Wadge.") I took the goods to the railway station, and consigned them to "Mr. Wadge, general dealer, Ashburton"—I shall have been in Dawlish fifteen years come Christmas, and know no one there named Thornley.

DAVID BUCKNELL . I am foreman of carriers of the Great Western Railway at Teignmouth—on the 8th March some goods arrived at my station addressed to Elias Frost—on the 10th the prisoner called to inquire for the goods and signed the sheet in the name of E. Frost, and said he wanted them taken to the Temperance Hotel—he afterwards ordered them to be taken to Mrs. Zellie, a coffee-house close by—I have lived at Teignmouth fifteen years and have not known the name of Frost there.

MRS. ZELLIE. I am a widow in business at Teignmouth—the prisoner resided in my house in March last in the name of Wadge—goods, brushes, and so on came there and were hawked about by a man in his employ—he authorised me to receive letters for him in the name of Frost or Wadge—I know no one there of the name of Frost.

HENRY WILLIAM RIPPIN (Re-examined). I also received this post card from the prisoner, (Read: "10th March, 1879. Mr. E. Frost's goods, directed Teignmouth, North instead of South Devon, have reached him, but no invoice. That is supposed to have been wrongly addressed as well, and forwarded to Lynmouth, North Devon.")

By MR. PURCELL. The three orders were in the months of February and March—I think the prisoner told me how bad trade was in the West of England, and that there were firms with which it was very difficult to compete, and that he could not compete unless there were more favourable terms allowed him—I expected he was going to get cash—he mentioned a month's credit in his lettere—I told him in some of my letters that I was pleased to do business with a person whose heart beat in unison with my own—I have been a member of the temperance organisation for twenty-five years—he did not know that my sympathies were in the same direction—I do not remember writing to him about Dr. Fletcher's sermon—he has been dead many years—I spoke of having had the pleasure of listening to Mr. Murphy.

HENRY JAMES PRESS . I am an inspector in the Criminal Investigation Department, Scotland Yard—I took the prisoner at Ashburton on 29th May,

and read the warrant to him—he said "I am surprised; Mr. Rippin has had his goods back and money as well"—on the way to London he said "I shall deny nothing, it is a complicated affair; I shall speak the truth. I used their names because I could not sell; it has all been explained. Mr. Rippin said he would not harm me if he got his goods back"—I have made inquiries at Bovey Tracey, Dawlish, and Teignmouth.

GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-647

647. SIDNEY WALLACE (42) , Feloniously wounding Sarah Pedder with intent to do grievous bodily harm.


SARAH PEDDER . I live at 43, Scott Street, Plaistow Marshes, and have lived with the prisoner for about seven years as his wife—he works in the brickfields in summer time—he came home on 20th May between 10 and 11 p.m., neither he nor I were sober—I knew what I was about, and was getting his supper ready—I don't think he knew what he was about; he came in disagreeable, and began swearing at me, and I threw the fork down and told him to cook his own supper—I turned to go out of the room, and turned back to say something, when he threw a pocket-knife at me—he was using it to cut a piece of bread—it stuck in me just above the left breast, and I bled freely—I pulled the knife out, and the doctor was sent for—the prisoner ran out, and I saw nothing more of him until he was taken into custody—I aggravated him because I would not cook his supper; we had lived on good terms; we had a few words sometimes; he has never done anything of the sort before or struck me.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I think you told me to go out of the room after I threw the fork down—not a moment hardly elapsed between my throwing the fork down and your throwing the knife—I stopped you from going out before you threw the knife, and before I threw the fork down.

By the COURT. The prisoner had come home with the dog before, and I was then out.

By the Prisoner. When you came home the second time there was no candle, and the fire was just alight, and you said "Are you drunk again?" and I said "A good thing too."

WILLIAM JOHN IRVINE . I am a medical practitioner, of 74, Victoria Dock Road, West Ham—at the time of this occurrence I was doing temporary duty for Mr. Dimmer, surgeon, of Plaistow—I was called to the last witness, who was in bed suffering from an incised wound on the left breast—it was not serious, and as the bleeding had stopped I did not probe the wound, not wishing to bring on the hæmorrhage again—this knife (produced) would produce such a wound—I saw her the next morning, and she was going on favourably.

FREDERICK HILTON (Policeman K 653). I was called to the prisoner's place, but he had gone out, and I found him at about 1.30 a.m. on the 21st concealed in a brickfield covered with straw, about 150 yards from the house—I told him I should take him to the station, and charge him with cutting and wounding his wife—I thought at that time she was his wife—he said "I threw the knife at her; she aggravated me, but I didn't mean it to stick in her.'

Prisoners Defence. She aggravated me very much.

GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the provocation. Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

Reference Number: t18790630-648

648. JAMES QUIN (48) was charged on the Coroner's Inquisition only with the manslaughter of Ann Quinn.

MR. J. P. GRAIN offered no evidence, the Grand Jury having found no bill.



Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

Reference Number: t18790630-649

649. WILLIAM LANG (40) , Unlawfully taking Ellen Sullivan, a girl under the age of 16, out of the possession and against the will of her father.

MR. WHITE Prosecuted; and MR. THORNE COLE Defended.

JOHN SULLIVAN . I live at 2, Albert Place, Charlton, and am a labourer—the prisoner lodged in my house nearly four years—he left on 5th June—my daughter Ellen resided with me—she was 15 on 19th of last September—she disappeared about 6.30 a.m., at the same time as the prisoner—I afterwards received information about them from a young man—on 9th June I saw the prisoner; I said "Halloa, you are a fine fellow;" with that he ran away; I ran after him and gave him in charge.

Cross-examined. He came to my house on 9th June, and asked my missis for his box—I was not there at the time; I came home about 9 and found him there—I got up at 20 minutes to six on the morning of 5th June—my daughter was in her bedroom then, and the prisoner was then in the house—I did not see him.

By the COURT. My daughter left without my consent—I would not have allowed her to go if I had known.

ELLEN SULLIVAN . I am the daughter of the last witness—I left home on 5th June at 6.30—my father was up and had gone to work; my mother was not up—no one accompanied me; the prisoner told me to go out by myself, and he met me in the lane about five minutes' walk from the house—the prisoner was a lodger—he was at me four or five weeks; he said I had no peace or quietness at home, and we would both do better in America—he said a boat would leave Bristol on the Thursday following—he opened the door in the morning—he said overnight would I go in the morning before mother was up; I said "Yes"—he, said "You go up the lane, and I will be there a few minutes afterwards"—he did so, and we went across the common to Blackheath Station—he took tickets for London—we went to a coffee-house in London and had some breakfast, and then took a bus to Paddington and took the train to Bristol—he took the tickets—we went to a beerhouse in Bristol, and there we stopped from Thursday until Monday—he then said he would come up to London for his box, and we would sail off to America on the Thursday—he said he would be back again on the Tuesday—he asked me if I would marry him; that was on Monday, the 9th—I said I would—he had beaten me on the Saturday—I don't know what for; he said it was through his being drunk—we slept in different rooms at the beerhouse all the time—he left me on the Monday; he did not leave me any money, only 4d. to get a glass of ale—I did not see him

again till he was in Woolwich Prison—one night while we were at Bristol he was backwards and forwards trying to push my door in—he often tried to take liberties with me, but he never did.

Cross-examined. He was drunk when he beat me—he did not ask me to marry him at my father's house; not till we got to Bristol—I remained at Bristol till the Thursday after he left me, when the clergyman came after me—he had never taken liberties with me before I left home.

GUILTY .— Tewlve Months' Imprisonment.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18790630-650

650. THOMAS HAYES (18) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a wooden bowl and 1l. 16s. 9d., the goods and moneys of Samuel Webb, and to a previous conviction of felony.*— Two Years' Imprisonment. And

Reference Number: t18790630-651

651. ROSE MILLS (22) to concealing the birth of her child.— Fourteen Days' Imprisonment.

Before Mr. Recorder. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18790630-652

652. THOMAS HUGHES (30, a soldier), Unlawfully assaulting Mary Ann Connors, with intent to ravish.

MR. A. B. KELLY Prosecuted; MR. RAVEN Defended.

GUILTY of an indecent assault. Four Months' Imprisonment.


Wednesday, July 2nd, and five following days.

Before Mr. Justice Denman.

Reference Number: t18790630-653

653. CATHERINE WEBSTER (29) was indicted for the wilful murder of Julia Martha Thomas.

The SOLICITOR-GENERAL, with MR. POLAND and MR. A. L. SMITH, Prosecuted;


CRESWELL WELLS (Police Inspector). I have studied surveying, and understand the making of plans—this photograph (produced) represents Nos. 1 and 2, Vine Cottages, or Mayfield, Richmond—they are detached cottages, and alike—Mrs. Thomas lived in No. 2, and Miss Ives in No. 1—this plan (marked "A") shows the basement of Nos. 1 and 2 side by side—this other plan (No. 2) shows the ground-floor, with the gardens front and back, and the side door—an iron fence divides the gardens in front, and a park paling at the back—the side door leads along a passage to steps which go down into the scullery by a back door, and if you do not go down the steps, into the dining-room—I have also made this plan ("C") showing the position of the two houses with reference to the neighbourhood and Richmond Bridge—this plan ("D") is a plan of the neighbourhood where the witnesses Church and Porter lived at Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—the distance from Rose Gardens to the beginning of Hammersmith Bridge is 1,825 yards, rather more than a mile—the Oxford and Cambridge public-house is 157 yards from Hammersmith Bridge—the toll-gate is on the Middlesex side—the length of the bridge is 277 yards—the other side of the bridge is in Barnes parish.

JULIA NICHOLLS . I live at 10, Whitchurch Villas, Richmond, and am general servant to Miss Roberts—I knew Mrs. Thomas for about eight months before she went to live at Vine Cottages—she used frequently to

visit my mistress, and I knew that she was in the habit of attending the Presbyterian services at the Lecture Hall; I saw her there on the morning of the 2nd March; she took the sacrament in the morning—I saw her again in the evening at the same place, about 6.45—she used to generally occupy a particular seat—I spoke to her in the lobby, and I noticed that she appeared very excited—the service had commenced when she came in, and she sat down in a seat behind the door; that was not the seat usually occupied by her—when the service was over I noticed that Mrs. Thomas was not there, and I never saw her again alive—Vine Cottages are about a quarter of an hour's walk from the Lecture Hall—the bonnet now produced I have no doubt is the one that was worn by Mrs. Thomas; I had seen her wearing it on previous occasions.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Thomas was generally at chapel in good time—I noticed that her bonnet appeared to have slipped off her head, and this more particularly directed my attention to her—on this Sunday evening I was conversing with her for about a quarter of an hour, and I observed that her face was flushed, and that her voice was shaking; she appeared to be in a state of very great excitement.

Re-examined. She gave me a reason for being in such a state of excitement—she was certainly not at all the worse for liquor—she seemed vexed at something—she left about ten minutes before the end of the service.

JANE IVES . I live with my daughter, at No. 1, Mayfield, it used to be called Vine Cottages—I remember Mrs. Thomas coming to live next door to me, she came before we came; we came in November and she came in September—my daughter is the landlady—I did not know Mrs. Thomas personally; I knew there was a lady of that name living next door—I was at home on Sunday evening 2nd March—my daughter went to church that evening—she came home a little after 9—since I gave my evidence, I have remembered hearing a noise in the next house, between 8 and 9 o'clock; it was like the fall of a heavy chair—it seemed to be on the same floor as I was sitting on, the drawing-room floor; it did not seem to be exactly in the room, it was more at the far end of the room—I should say more towards the hall—I did not state this at Richmond, I forgot it; I was very ill when I was examined—next morning, 3rd March, I was down at a quarter to six, I went to turn the water on at the area steps at the back, it was then 6 o'clock, the Union clock was striking at the time—I observed a light in one of the back bedrooms; it was dark in the passage, I had a candle—there are three back bedrooms, I could not say in which I saw the light—about 7 o'clock that morning I heard the usual process of washing in the next house; there was the noise as of a brush or something—it was the same noise as I had generally heard since Mrs. Thomas kept a servant; it came from the scullery—I heard a poking of the copper fire, the copper is at the back of our kitchen range—about 11 that morning I saw some clothes hanging out in the back garden, and they remained till the Wednesday; they were underclothing and towels, sheets and other things; my hearing is not very good.

Cross-examined. I have not seen any gentleman from the Treasury since I gave my evidence at the police-court—I was asked at the police-court if I heard anything on the Sunday night, and I at first answered, "Nothing"—I don't remember whether I was asked a second time, I was ill at the time; I could not remember anything about it a week ago, it came into my memory since—I never saw the papers since this happened, they kept them from me

—I know this was on Sunday the 2nd March, because I remember on the Tuesday my daughter's apprentice, Miss Roberts, going in to Mrs. Thomas's—we have not talked the matter over together since.

WILLIAM THOMAS DEAN . I live at No. 1, St. Albans Villas, Rosemount Road, Richmond, and am a coal agent—I knew Mrs. Thomas since Christmas last—I saw her on Sunday, 2nd March, in Hill Street, coming in a direction from the Lecture Hall towards her home; it was about I or a little after—I spoke to her and shook hands with her—on Monday, 3rd March, about half past 12, I called at the house 2, Mayfield—I knocked at the door, the prisoner opened it about 18 or 20 inches—I knew she—was the servant there—I asked if Mrs. Thomas was in; she said, "No"—I asked when she was likely to be in; she said, "I don't know"—I said, "Will you give my compliments to Mrs. Thomas when she arrives home, and say that Mr. Dean called?"—she made no answer, the door was slammed close to—the prisoner seemed excited and answered me very abruptly I thought—I called for an account—I did not tell the prisoner that—I called again eight or ten days afterwards—the blinds were then down, I knocked and got no answer—I never saw Mrs. Thomas alive after the Sunday I have spoken of.

Cross-examined. The account had been owing from about September I think—I had not called for it before—I cannot tell the date of my examination at Richmond; it must have been about the 17th of April—I cannot give you the date when I first gave information about this; it might have been in April, I did not make a minute of it—I generally met Mrs. Thomas on a Sunday morning as she returned from chapel—I read the reports of this case in the papers—I read the statements made by Church and Porter.

Re-examined. I have not the slightest doubt now of the date when I last saw Mrs. Thomas coming from chapel—I have refreshed my memory by something I wrote on the Monday morning (producing a book)—it is no entry relating to Mrs. Thomas, they are accounts that I called for on that day.

By the COURT. I recollect that it was Monday, the 3rd March, that I called at Mrs. Thomas's, because the manager wished me to call for the back account due in September—there were two accounts, one for coals delivered in February, which would be due in March—I know it was Sunday, 2nd March, that I met Mrs. Thomas—it was the first Sunday in the month, and she told me she had been receiving the sacrament, and I am certain that the call I made was the next day.

By MR. SLEIGH. This is a memorandum-book in which I enter my daily callings—I do not enter every person I call on; when I call on a family and they give me an order I enter it; when they give me no order I do not—I made this entry of March 3rd on the Monday morning; "March 3rd" has been written over again, I did that the same day—there is the name of "Wilkinson, he is the manager that I pay the money to—I called on him the next day; that would be the 4th—I generally go to him the next morning.

EMMA ROBERTS . I live at 10, Whitchurch Villas, Richmond—Julia Nicholls was my servant—I had known the deceased for 10 or 11 months—I remember calling at her house on Monday, 3rd March, about 6 p.m.; I knocked twice at the door, but no one came, and I stayed for at least half an hour—I noticed a strong light in the hall and in the basement and the drawing-room, but I did not hear any noise—I never saw Mrs. Thomas

alive after that—she and I used to attend the same place of worship, the Lecture Hall—I had not seen her there the previous day, Sunday, 2nd March—I have seen the prisoner at the house when I called.

Cross-examined. I do not know in which month I was first examined at the police-court, or when I was first spoken to about giving my evidence—Inspector Pearman called my attention to the subject after the prisoner was taken, but I do not know the date—I will undertake to say that I called at Mrs. Thomas's within a month of March 2nd, and went in and stayed with her two or three hours in the back sitting-room called the dining-room—she was a pleasant, lively lady—I have known her about 11 months, but never bad a meal at her house, or she at mine—we exchanged visits pretty nearly every week—when she was missing everybody was talking about it, and I saw it in the papers.

Re-examined. I stayed to the late service on Sunday evening, 2nd March, which was over at 9 o'clock—we continued on from one service to the other—I sat rather far in the body of the hall near the reading-desk.

By the COURT. That was the Sacrament day—the last Sacrament day before that was about two months before; I had been so regularly that I am quite prepared to say that—I had some talk with my servant Julia Nicholls about Mrs. Thomas on that Sunday; she mentioned her name—I did not volunteer to give evidence; the policeman came to me first—I went to the police-office on the same day as Julia Nicholls—I was only examined once, but she went a second time to sign her depositions.

MARY ROBERTS . I live at Richmond, and am apprenticed to Miss Ives, at 1, May field—I am not related to the last witness—I generally went to Miss Ives's at 8 in the morning and left between 8 and 9 at night; I did not sleep there—I knew Mrs. Thomas, who lived next door—I saw her the last time alive at Miss Ives's house on 27th February, and she gave me a message to deliver to Miss Ives—on Monday, 4th March, I went to Mrs. Thomas's house, and the prisoner answered from the window over the door—I told her that Miss Ives intended to send some men to see to the roof as soon as possible—she said "I was coming round to Miss Ives to tell her there is no need to send the men round, as the water has disappeared from the roof"—she also said she knew it was only the snow which had penetrated the roof, and then she said "We are just cleaning up, as we are expecting people in to-night"—she had her sleeves tucked up—on the previous day I had noticed a card in the window with "Apartments to let" on it—I did not see that on Tuesday—I returned to Miss Ives and told her what the prisoner had said, and the same evening about 8 o'clock I heard a noise in the adjoining house, No. 2, of people coming into the house, and I heard the fire being poked, and some one trying the piano like thumping on it, not like ordinary playing—Mrs. Thomas used to play pretty well—I did not hear any voices—on Thursday night about 8.30 I noticed a light in Mrs. Thomas's drawing-room; the blinds were drawn down—I saw nothing of the prisoner that week after the Tuesday, but' in the next week, on the Thursday or Friday night about 8.30, I saw her arm-in-arm with a man at the top of the road walking towards the house—I did not see his face; he was wearing an Ulster coat.

Cross-examined. If anything the man was shorter than the prisoner—I passed them—I think he was a little taller than Church, but not very much—I think I can say that he was taller—the poking the fire on 4th March

was a few minutes before the playing on the piano, not at the same time—it sounded like the kitchen fire—I heard some people coming in, but heard no noise in the day after 11 a.m.—I did not hear the door of No. 2 open at 8 p.m., but I heard somebody going down into the kitchen—the piano is on the ground floor—I heard no voice, and whether it was a man or a woman I do not know—I said "people," but I have no reason to suppose there wag more than one—I did not hear anybody go in, but I heard somebody go downstairs, and by the sound there were more than two.

Re-examined. I could see that the man I met with the prisoner was dark—I was going the opposite way and passed them—we could hear some one in the house before 11 am.; we heard footsteps—we heard the piano shortly after hearing the persons go downstairs.

By the COURT. I remember that I last saw Mrs. Thomas alive on Thursday, February 27th, because she came to the house, and afterwards we did not see anybody about the house—I know it was Thursday, 27th—I went to the house on 2nd March, after the 27th—I am sure it was on the Thursday before the Tuesday that I went to the house—I remember positively that it was Tuesday, the 4th, because some people came to our house to know if it was let or not, and the woman said she thought the house must be let—I think that was on the Wednesday, and that is why I say that what I have told you took place on the Tuesday.

ELIZABETH IVES . I live at 1, Mayfield, and am the leaseholder of the next house, No. 2, which I let to Mrs. Thomas from Michaelmas last—a little girl, named Edith Menhennick, lived with Mrs. Thomas from September till nearly the end of January, and the prisoner came quite at the end of January or the beginning of February—Mrs. Thomas came to me on the last Thursday in February, I think it was the 27th; I did not speak to her but received a message from her—on Saturday, 1st March, between 3 and 4 o'clock, I saw her planting a flower in the garden, and I never saw her again—on Monday, 3rd March, I heard a noise in No. 2, as though washing was going on, and some clothes were hung out in the garden before 8 o'clock; all that morning there was a very strange smell, and I mentioned it to one of my apprentices—I saw in the garden a white flannel vest, two pairs of flannel drawers, one or two sheets, and a white cotton or calico petticoat—they were not there on the Sunday; they remained till Wednesday—on the Monday and Tuesday night I heard noises in the house, a deal of moving, but no voices, and we heard them light the fire and a sound of chopping wood on the hearth and poking the fire up to about 9 o'clock—about 1.30 on the afternoon of 3rd March I noticed the breakfast things on the table in the dining room, and they were there the next day at the same time—I cannot say whether they had been removed and replaced in the interval—I noticed at dusk on the Tuesday evening that they had been removed—I sent Mary Roberts to the house with a message on the Tuesday morning, and she came back with a message to me—Mrs. Thomas's bedroom was what was called the long room over the hall and over the side entrance, it goes right through—I do not mean the drawing-room—on the Tuesday evening we heard the noise of people coming into the house—we heard their footsteps, and male and female voices, but could not hear the words—we also heard some one touching the keys of the piano to make a sound—I have heard Mrs. Thomas play well—I saw Mrs. Keighley on the Wednesday afternoon; I think it was about 4 o'clock, and in the evening I heard sounds like the filing of iron

in Mrs. Thomas's front kitchen—I recognised a man and a child in the house—I saw a cabdriver go to the house on 11th or 12th, and on Saturday 15th I saw the prisoner in the dining-room with the window open—I suppose there was some one with her, for she said, "Lizzie, I think you want a pin or two"—about the end of that week I was in the garden; the fence is low, and I saw a man in the back dining-room writing in a small note book; his hair was like Church's, but the window sash came across his head so that I could not see him—on Tuesday, the 18th, about 11.40, I saw the prisoner in the front garden going into the next house; she looked at me and went on, and I went in—about the 7th two furniture vans came, a large one and a small one—I saw Weston there; he was a stranger to me, but I had some conversation with him outside—the prisoner was coming down the stairs of Mrs. Thomas's house, and the door was wide open—shortly afterwards the prisoner came to me and said, "Is it Miss Ives who wishes to know where the furniture is going to?"—I said "Well, I should like to know"—she said "Mrs. Thomas has sold her furniture; a man here can show the receipts; Mr. Weston is going to take it to Hammersmith"—I said "Where is Mrs. Thomas?"—she said "Don't know," and turned herself away—she was very much agitated, her face was quite convulsed, and she could hardly speak to me—I said "Can't you give me her address?"—she said "No"—I said "You must excuse me, I will attend to it," and shut the door—she came forward to come up the steps to speak to me, which made me say that, because she looked so frightful—I then went to my agent, and was away nearly half an hour—when I got back one of the vans was just moving; that was about a quarter or 20 minutes to eight, and it was quite dark; but I saw the prisoner and six or seven men standing outside the gate; it was hardly light enough to recognise who they were, except Weston—as I went up the path one of them, I think it was Weston, looked over the gate—next day, two men, strangers to me, came to my house and asked me some questions, and I gave them some answers—I thought the first was Mr. Porter—in the evening Church and Porter came to inquire after Mrs. Thomas—on 22nd March, Mr. Hughes, Mrs. Thomas's solicitor, came, and Porter and a police inspector.

Cross-examined. There was nothing unusual in washing taking place in Mrs. Thomas's house, and then they would use the copper to the best of my knowledge, but the clothes were out unusually early, 8 o'clock; it was never so early before, but I will not undertake to say that they were not washed the night before—on the Sunday night, about 8 o'clock, before my apprentice left, I am sure I heard the voices of men and women—I said at the police-court that I heard several voices, and that they appeared to be the voices of men and women—that was while my apprentice was there—I was in the workroom with her before she went—she could hear them too if she was listening—they were such as to attract my attention, and she was sitting at the same table with me—I was the nearest to the next house—I heard the sound up to nearly 10 o'clock, but did not hear any one go out of the house—Mrs. Thomas's side-door is away from my house, and I should not hear anybody go in that way—I heard no one go up on the Tuesday night from the drawing-room to the bedroom; we could not hear that usually—the gas was alight; I cannot tell if the gas was put out that night, but Mrs. Thomas's hack bedroom window was left open for a day or two; it was open early on

Wednesday morning, and it was in the same position the day before—on the Wednesday, about 6 p.m., I heard sounds of a man and a child; the man was singing in the kitchen, but only at intervals, and this filing was going on, but he was not singing so as to deaden the noise of the filing; he only gang a note or two; it was discordant, and then he stopped—the filing went on all the evening, but it ceased now and again—I said nothing at the police-court about singing and filing, but I said that I heard a man's voice—I said it first at the Treasury—it was on the 11th or 12th that I saw a cab drive up about 11 o'clock at night, and two women, and two or three men, and a little child got into it—one of the women was shorter than the prisoner, and one about the same height—the prisoner was one of them; I am sure of that—I said at the police-court "One woman resembled the prisoner," but I am sure it was her, because she had on the large waterproof cloak and the black hat which she usually wore—during 10 days or a fortnight people were continually coming to the house at all sorts of odd hours, and taking away things in cabs, and we thought it strange—when they came that night the woman had a large white parcel—I only saw cabs come there on two nights; one came on Saturday—I only saw a parcel taken away on one night—the prisoner did not ask me before I shut the door whether I wanted my rent; she did not say a word—I did not see her when I came out again to go to the agent; as far as I know she had gone into the house—I was away half an hour, and when I came back I saw her in the road—I have not the slightest doubt about that; she was the nearest to the gate—the men went away with the last van; they all moved together, but the prisoner was first—she did not look to be separate from them as if she had left them—I said at the police-court that I thought it was Henry Porter who came in the middle of the day; I thought he came twice, in the evening and in the middle of the day—what I said was that Church came in the day, and came with another man in the evening; he was a much younger man than Church.

Re-examined. I only saw things taken away once—I saw a cab twice—I did not recognise anybody with the van but Weston—I only waited at the door while they were letting me in—the first van was just passing the gate and the second had not moved.

By the COURT. I imagined they were empty—I did not see any dresses flung in or anything of that sort—the people were standing still—the first van had got half a dozen yards from the house, not more, when I shut the door; the last van was then just passing our gate; they were both moving—Mr. Long is my agent—he did not come with me—on the Monday morning between 9 and 10 I first smelt a strange smell, and mentioned it to all the assistants—I did not mention that to the Magistrate because I did not think of it—we thought it was an escape of gas in our place, but we examined and found it was not; it was worse than that—I had two or three other assistants besides Roberts, but none of them are here.

ROBERT PORTER . I shall be 16 next birthday—I have lived at 10, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith, with my father and mother nearly nine years—I was employed at Mr. Young's, the painter's, early in March; but I left there—I saw the prisoner at my father's gate on 4th March, at 5.30 or 6 o'clock—I know the date because it was my birthday—she said "How are you; Bob?"—I did not know her; I said, "Quite well, thank you"—she came into the house and waited till my father came in—she had no bonnet—my mother was there—I recognised the prisoner as having lived next door to us 5 or 6

years—I knew her as Kate, but not by another name—she had a black cloth bag, glazed, under the table; about so long and so deep, with handles which were loose, there was no string to attach them—the bag was open, and I saw a brown paper parcel in it—my father returned after 6—it was half an hour since I first saw her—my father's name is Henry—she said "Halloa, Harry I how are you?"—he said "Quite well, thank you"—we then had our tea, during which she said that she had a nice house at Richmond—after tea my father and Kate went out, and she said she wanted me to go with her to carry the bag as far as Hammersmith Bridge, as she was going to meet a friend; I said "All right," and my father said he would go a little way with us—we three left the house at 7; my mother went to bed before we started, as she was not well—I carried the bag as far as the Angel, and then my father carried it, it was heavy—I saw my brother at the Angel—we started from Rose Gardens, through Boston Terrace, through Baynham Street and Cambridge Street, through the town towards Bridge Road, and then we turned to the right to the Oxford and Cambridge—we only went through part of Glenthorne Road—before we started Thurlow came to our house—we went past the Angel to the Broadway, and then to the bridge—my brother is employed at Chipmell's, the baker's; my father and Kate spoke to him; I did not hear what they said, but he carried the bag from the Angel to the Oxford and Cambridge, which is close to the bridge—my father, Kate, and I, went in there and had something to drink, and the prisoner said she was going to take the bag to a friend over the bridge—my father said "How long will you be?—she said "Not long"—I said "I will help carry it if she wants me"—she said "No, I can carry it myself," and left the house with it—I did not hear my father say anything—I went outside and saw her go to the bridge; it was dark, and I missed her going past the only shop that is in the road—I then went in again—it was 9 o'clock when she left—it took us over an hour to walk from Rose Gardens to the Oxford and Cambridge—we did not go fast—we stopped at the Angel, and I went to a water-closet at the Royal Oak for five minutes; they were going on, and my father halloaed back for me—we were at the Oxford and Cambridge half an hour before the prisoner left with the bag; she came back without it in twenty minutes; I don't remember her saying anything as to—where she had been—she showed us three or four rings in a box like a cigar-case; I had it in my hand; she said they were her sister's, who had died, and had sent them to her; my father saw them; I cannot say whether the landlady was there—the prisoner also produced some photographs; one was as big as a shilling; she said it was her portrait, and said "It ain't like me"—it was not like her; the other was a young woman, who she said was her sister who was dead—she gave me the rings in the cigar-case, and said "Mind these till we get home"—I said I had no good pockets, and gave the case back; she put it in her pocket, and gave me two keys, and said "Mind these; they unlock the door"—she asked if I might go to Richmond with her; he consented; it was understood I was to return the same night—I held the keys in my hand—my father went with us as far as the District Railway, Hammersmith; that is the new station to Richmond—Kate took the tickets—I heard her say that she was Mrs. Thomas—we went to the new station at Richmond, and then walked to Vine Cottage—I still had the keys—we did not stop anywhere after we got out of the train, and I do not

think she said anything, but when we got to Vine Cottage she said "Give me the keys"—I did so, and she opened the side door and we went in—she said that the front door lock was broken—we went into the sitting-room, where the glass doors are, and she found some matches on the table and got a light and we went into the front room—she gave me some rum, and said "I want you to help me carry a box to Richmond Bridge, because I have to meet a friend there"—she showed me two 51. notes, which she took from her pocket in a Monarch Building Society's book which I should know again—this is it (produced), and there was a post-office savings bank book—she said that they were her aunt's, who was dead and left them to her—she asked me to cast them up—I did not understand it, but I reckoned up for her the shillings and pence—I do not know what it amounted to, but I know I reckoned some of it up—I do not know whether she pulled the books out of her pocket—I got them out of the cupboard—she left the room; I don't know whether she went upstairs, but she came into the roam again in about ten minutes, or it might be more, with this box (produced) corded up, and said "This is the box I want you to carry"—I afterwards saw it at Barnes Railway Station—I laid hold of one side of the cord and Kate laid hold of the other—the end was tied twice round; I did not notice whether there was a handle to it—it was not broken then, it was complete—I noticed that the box had also these two hinges—I did not know Richmond before, and I went the way she took me—we carried it together on to Richmond Bridge—it was near on 11 p.m. when we left the house with the box—I had no watch—I was in the house about three quarters of an hour or an hour before we left with the box—I saw a piano in the house, and Kate ran her fingers over it and said it was a nice one—I saw no one in the house but the prisoner—I did not hear any noise before she brought the box into the room—I think I pointed out the way we went to one of the policemen—I do not remember his name—we carried the box to the last recess, I think they call it, on the bridge—the prisoner then said "Put it down and you go on; my friend will be here directly," and I put it down in the recess on the ground—I don't think there is a seat there—I walked away on the other side the same way I had come—when I got to the first recess on the other side I heard a slight splash—I did not know whether it was the box or a barge coming under the bridge—I did not see a barge—I then saw a tall dark man on the same side as I was, walking towards Richmond, about half a dozen yards in front of me, at least two or three yards away—when I heard the splash he stopped and looked round and walked on—I was walking on slowly—the prisoner caught up with me when I had got nearly to the end of the bridge—she had no box with her then, and said "Bob, I have seen my friend; now get towards the station and get home," and I says "All right"—there was' also a carpet bag which I had carried from the house which I saw contained eatables, tea and sugar—she said, "Take those home to your mother, I shall be down with you for some tea"—I found that the last train had gone, and the prisoner said "Oh, I ain't got enough money to pay for a cab," and I went back with her and carried the bag—she opened the door of the house with the key, and I slept in the same room that the prisoner did, over the side door—there was a window back and front—I had my breakfast in the morning, and caught the 7.5 train—I took the bag—the prisoner said she would be down for some tea—I went home to Rose Gardens, and left the bag there and went to my work—

I think I noticed on the Tuesday that the prisoner was wearing a gold watch and chain—I went to Richmond on the following Saturday—I don't know whether I had seen her at my father's in the meantime—I don't think I went to Richmond the next week—I might or might not have seen her at my father's house that week—I went there on another Saturday—I remember some old chairs and flowers being brought to my father's from Vine Cottage by Ricketts, and an india-rubber plant—the prisoner said the india-rubber plant was worth two guineas—I was at home on the evening of Tuesday, 18th March, when the prisoner's little boy was staying at my father's—he had been there perhaps five or six days, and was five or six years old—he was in bed when the prisoner came for him about 8 o'clock—my father and mother were not in, and the prisoner said "Go upstairs and fetch him"—she said she was going to take him to her father's—I went upstairs and dressed him, and then the prisoner went in the front room and brought out a bonnet box, and she asked me to carry the little boy to the top of the street, which I did—there was a cab waiting; there was nobody in it; the little boy got in, and the prisoner whispered to the cabman and got in—I did not notice whether there was anything in the cab—I asked her if she was coming back, and she said "Yes"—I said "Good night" to the little boy, and they drove away round Albion Road—in March my brother slept at home, and a little girl and the lodgers—the box I carried was not so very heavy—we rested now and then.

Thursday, July 3rd.

ROBERT PORTER (Recalled and further Cross-examined). I first knew the prisoner between five and six years ago—she lived next door to us—she was very kind to a sister of mine, who has since died; she was between three and four years old at that time—the prisoner used to talk and play with her over the wall—I did not see her take her on her knee—she did not come in and out of our house very often—she did come in and out, and took notice of my little sister—I never saw her take the child on her knee, she used to play about with her—I knew her by the name of Kate—when I heard the splash in the water I wondered whether it was the box that went into the water or whether it was the splash of a barge—that was on 4th March—I heard of a box being found in the river on the day but one afterwards—I only heard different people talk about it—I heard that it had been found at Barnes, near Richmond—I did not know that it was the same box—I did not think it was the same—I only heard that it was a box, and that there was a woman's body found in it—when I went home on the Wednesday morning I don't think I told my father what had taken place about the box the night before—I saw my father in the evening—I don't know whether I told him or my mother that I went on to Richmond Bridge with the prisoner—I was to have come home that night—I don't know whether they asked me why I did not come home—I don't recollect telling my father at any time about being on the bridge with the prisoner and the box—I spoke first about it—I told Inspector Jones on the Sunday following from the 18th March (the 23rd)—from that night to the 23rd I never mentioned a word about the box to anybody, not to my recollection—I cannot say that I did not tell my father about it the very next day when I went home, I might have told him, and I might not—I did not tell my father that Kate had got a friend to meet over Richmond Bridge—I don't

know whether I told him or not—I have got a bad recollection—it did not strike me as very curious that she should take a box and go and meet somebody without letting me go on over the bridge—I think it was a thing she she was likely to do—I think I gave my evidence three times at the police-court—I don't know how far it is from Rose Gardens to the Oxford and Cambridge; it might take me more than half an hour to walk it, it all depends on how you walk, whether slow or fast—I did not stop at the place of convenience a quarter of an hour; it is at the Angel—I don't exactly know whether I said at either of my examinations at the police-court that my father, the prisoner, and I, all three went inside the Angel; what I said was "I carried the bag as far as the Angel, my father took it and carried it to the Oxford and Cambridge"—I did not say anything about going inside the Angel or about going to the water-closet—the prisoner gave me the keys in the Oxford and Cambridge—I might have stated that before the last examination, or I might not; I might have said so in the first place—I don't know whether I said anything about it until the 10th May—she went in at the side door—she gave as a reason for that that the lock of the front door was broken—I only thought of that yesterday—I went out at the front door sometimes—on that night I went out at the side door—there are some steps to the front door—she and I did not carry the box and bag down the stops of the front door that night; I think it was at the side door—when the prisoner first came to our house on the Tuesday, my mother was at tea with us; I can't swear it, I can't be sure she was at tea with us—she was not lying on the bed at the time we were having tea; I will swear that—I did not hear my father give evidence at the police-court—I had no conversation last night about saying my mother was at tea; nor this morning, with my father and mother—I shall not say whether she was or was not at tea with us—the prisoner might have asked my father and me to see her off to the railway station, and she might not—she wanted me to carry the bag; we walked along as far as the Angel, and my father then took the bag; he might have taken it a little before we got to the Angel—I saw my brother William at the Angel; father spoke to him and then carried the bag to the Oxford and Cambridge—I don't know whether I said anything at the police-court about meeting my brother William and going into the Angel and having some beer—I don't think I said so up at Richmond—I think it was at the Oxford and Cambridge that she asked my father to let me go home with her; that was near 8 o'clock—we started from the station for Richmond about 9 o'clock or a little after—I don't know how long it took us to get from the station to Richmond; it might take more than a quarter of an hour—I don't know what reason she gave my father for asking me to go with her to Richmond at that time of night; that is best known to himself—I did not hear her give him any reason—when we got out at the Richmond station we turned to the left, up part of the town, and then through an alley—I saw a public-house, the first public-house out of the railway station—I don't know whose house it was; the prisoner did not leave me and go in there and have a glass of ale, I am quite sure of that—when we got to the house we both had some rum—she asked me to count up the figures in the bank books and building books—I might or I might not have said that before; I don't recollect—I counted up some of them—I did not trouble how I counted—I did not count all of it up—I did not tell her any amount; I don't recollect, I won't

be sure—I don't know what amount I told her—I might have told her an amount, or I might not—I have said things to-day that I did not say at Richmond—my father did not tell me that he had sworn at the police-court that one of the photographs was a photograph of the prisoner's sister—I have not heard it from anybody, only from Kate—I said she showed me three photographs, and I believed they were three females—I don't recollect that she came to tea at our house on the Wednesday after the Tuesday—I was at work that day up to half-past five—I was not at Richmond that day, only in the morning part—I did not go back to Richmond that day—I said nothing at the police-court about the rings or the sister—I might or might not have seen the prisoner at our house between that Tuesday and the 18th—I slept at my father's house every night except the Tuesday—she might and she might not have been at my father's house half a dozen times between the 4th and the 18th—I can't say whether I saw her or not between those times; I might or I might not—I might have seen her twice between those dates; I think I did—I was asked yesterday whether we went from the Hammersmith station or the Shaftesbury Road station—We did not go from the Shaftesbury Road station—when we left the Oxford and Cambridge we walked up the Bridge Road to the Broadway—we did not then go along King Street to the Angel, where my father asked the prisoner to go in and have some ale; nor did she say "No, I shall be late for the train"—we were too early for the train—when we got to the Broadway we had to wait on the platform—she and my father might have agreed to walk on to the Shaftesbury Road station and meet the train there—I did not hear them—they did not walk a little way in front of me along King Street—I am sure they did not—I did not hear my father ask her to go in anywhere and have some beer—I was only about two yards behind them—I did not hear what they were talking about—the Shaftesbury Road station is about a quarter of an hour's walk from the Hammersmith station—we waited about ten minutes at the Hammersmith station—I will undertake to swear that we did not go on to the Shaftesbury Road station—I had spoken to my father and Church about what took place on 4th March, before I gave evidence at the police-court—when it came to my knowledge on the Sunday morning, the same Sunday that I went to Barnes to identify the box, I spoke to both of them and the inspector and all; that was on the 23rd—I had not been up to the Court then; it was the day before I went before the Magistrate—I do not recollect my father hurrying me on as we were going to the railway station and saying that Kate would catch me up in a minute.

Re-examined. What I said before the Magistrate was taken down in writing and read over to me afterwards—it was then I mentioned about the keys, when the clerk was reading over what I had said.

HENRY PORTER . I have lived at 10, Brightwell Cottages, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith, nearly nine years—I am a painter, and have been in the employ of Mr. Bird 23 years—my son William slept at the house, as well as the last witness—I first knew Webster six years ago by living next door—I knew her as Kate, without knowing her surname—she was a servant out of place—I knew her for five or six weeks—I had a little daughter, who is since dead, of whom the prisoner took very much notice—she went away from next door, and said she was going to Norland Crescent, Notting Hill, into a situation—I saw her about a week afterwards; she came to my house on a visit, a call—she cams afterwards on several occasions in the same way,

not to stay, seven or eight times within a few months, and the last time I saw her, till last March, was nearly six years ago—I had not heard from her in the interval; I had lost sight of her altogether—on the 4th of last March, Tuesday, at 6 o'clock in the evening, I found her at my house when I came home—I did not recognise her at once; she seemed a great deal more respectably dressed—she said, "Hullo, father, here you are!"—I replied, "Kate, I should never have known you if you had not spoken first"—when I had known her before she had been in the habit of calling me Harry—we had tea together—at tea she said an aunt had died and left her a very comfortable home at Richmond, that she had been very unfortunate in letting her apartments, and she wanted to dispose of her home, as her father wrote from Ireland wishing her to sell off and come home and see after him, as he was very feeble and on his last legs—she asked me if I would go and see her off to the District Railway—I did so, with my son Robert—I had not noticed anything with her, only a black bag—it was a common bag, about 18 inches or 20 inches long, and nearly 12 inches in depth—we were about 20 minutes in the house—Kate, my son, and myself were at tea; no one else—my wife was upstairs in bed; she was not very well—before we started Thurlow came in; he is a neighbour, living nearly opposite, a painter and decorator—he stayed about 10 minutes; he had no tea—it was 7.20 or 7.30 when we started to the railway—Thurlow had left at that time—my son, Kate, and myself started—my son carried the bag—I had first seen the bag under our tea-table—I had not noticed whether it was open or closed—Kate and I walked together, and the boy behind—I had some conversation with her about her home at Richmond, which she wanted to dispose of—she asked me if I could find a respectable broker—I said I could, but I said, "Can't you find one at Richmond, as it would be much handier?"—she said she was not acquainted with the Richmond people much, and would prefer leaving it to me—that was the only conversation between the two of us before we went into the Oxford and Cambridge—about half the distance, opposite or near the Angel, I took the bag from the boy—it appeared to weigh about 20lb. or 25lb.—the boy lagged behind, and I thought he was looking in the shop-windows, and Kate and I waited, and when he came up I said, "What are you looking about for?" and he said, "Take the bag, father; it is rather heavy"—that was opposite the Angel—the three of us continued together till we got to the Oxford and Cambridge—we did not go near a baker's shop—I met my eldest son, William, at the Angel; his business is close by there; he was outside—we went into the Angel, Kate, myself, Robert, and William—Kate and William shook hands outside the Angel, and they asked after each other's health; the conversation lasted about 10 minutes—we had a glass of ale at the Angel, William, Kate, and myself—the Oxford and Cambridge is not on the way to the station—after leaving the Angel, Kate said she had a friend over at Barnes, and she wanted to go and see him, but she must not stay long—at the Oxford and Cambridge she proposed to have a glass of ale—Kate, I, and the boy went in; I called for a pint of ale; I paid for it, and asked her to drink; she did so—she said "I want to get over to see my friend at Barnes; I don't want to make it too late before I get home; I want to get back to Richmond"—she asked for the bag, and I proposed for the boy to carry it—"Oh, no," says she, "I can manage that myself; I shan't be long gone"—we stayed there till she came back—she was

gone nearly half an hour, from 20 minutes to half an hoar—when she came back she had not got the bag with her—she said she had seen her friend—we had a second pint of ale—she showed me some photos; she represented one of them to be her father's portrait, and another her deceased sister's—one was the photograph of a man with a long beard, to the best of my recollection; one of them was very small, about the size of a shilling; the man's was ordinary size; the very small one was her sister's, she said—she produced five gold rings in a small box in wadding, I believe; they were rather small plain rings, one more remarkable than the others; it had a stone in it, I think, and was different from the others—the others were plain—I had them all in my hand—I do not recollect any writing on them—she said they belonged to her deceased sister, and had been sent over as a keepsake—I did not know Mrs. Cox, the landlady of the Oxford and Cambridge before—I had been there but very seldom—Mrs. Cox was present at the conversation and took the small—photo, in her hand—there was another person, a young person, behind the bar—there was no one in front of the bar but ourselves; the bar reaches as high as the ledge of the witness-box—the conversation about the photos, was after Kate had come back again—she told me her name was Mrs. Thomas; she said that several times that evening—I believe she mentioned it at home in my own house; she said she had had a husband, but he was dead—after she came back we stayed about a quarter of an hour at the Oxford and Cambridge; we then went to the District Railway, in the Broadway; it was 9 o'clock when we got there—she pressed me very much on the way to find her a respectable broker—I said I would do so—I mentioned Mr. Brooks—at the station she asked me if I would allow my son Robert to go home with her—I said I would, on condition she would send him back the same evening, as he was due at his work in the morning at 5.30—she said she would—I saw them off—my boy did not come back that night—I next saw the prisoner on Thursday, the 6th, about 6 p.m.—she had, as on the first night, the gold watch and chain—she said she hoped I had found a respectable broker, as I had promised, and about 9 o'clock or past we went to Mr. Brooks's—his shop was closed—we came back home, and I believe she stayed at my house the whole of the night—I went to Mr. Niblett's, the jeweller, on the 10th or 11th of March—I am not certain about the date—I believe she brought the gold with the teeth on that day—on the 6th, when she slept at my house she slept downstairs in the front parlour—on the Monday after the 8th, either on the 10th or the 11th, I first took her to Church's—she and I went in to have a glass of ale—I had been to Richmond on Saturday, the 8th—on the 6th she asked me to coma down to Richmond to see her comfortable home that she wanted to dispose of—I promised to go on the 8th, because it was a half holiday—I went at 2.30 p.m. by myself—I found out the place by inquiring—she had given me the address—the prisoner let me in—I looked over the house—she asked me what I thought about the. house—I said, "It is a very comfortable one, very respectable"—she said she would like to have a broker, and that they would not allow her to have an auction sale on the premises—she said she was going to keep for her own use the best bed and bedding—I was there three hours—we came home together—she stayed at my house and went away on the Monday morning—I am away early in the morning—I know she slept there on Sunday night—I saw her last at 9 o'clock on Sunday evening and next on Monday evening, about 6 p.m.—she was then pressing me

about finding a broker for the furniture—she thought I was neglecting it—J could not say whether it was on the Monday evening or the Tuesday that I introduced her to Church; I should think it was on the Tuesday—the prisoner and I went to Church's—it is ten houses from mine—we had a glass of ale—Church came in—I spoke to him in her presence respecting the furniture—I said, "Mr. Church, here is a friend of mine has a respectable home to dispose of"—he said, "Has she? I want a few things; perhaps they will suit me"—we were in front of the bar—he said if the things would suit him he would buy them; and if there were more than he wanted, he would put them in an auction sale—we were there a quarter or half an hour—I rather think we went into the bar parlour to arrange matters—Kate and I then went home to my place—I did not notice any conversation between Church and the prisoner while we were in Church's place—they spoke together; the prisoner said, "Church, don't you know me"—he said, "No, I don't"—she said, "I'm an old neighbour of Porter's"—she slept at my place that night—I saw her nearly every day up to the 18th—I heard from heron the next day or the day following, that Church had been down—on the 13th, 14th, and 15th (Thursday, Friday and Saturday), I was at the house with the prisoner and Church, looking over the furniture—I went with the other two on all three days—we were looking the furniture over to get a proper understanding to buy it—previously to our going down he had offered 50l.—I did not think it was sufficient—the prisoner and I went into each room separately—I left her to value it, knowing better what the things were worth—I put down the figures she gave me, and it made 68l., and in my and her presence Church agreed to give that—the valuing was done on the 13th, and the extra 18l. was agreed to on that day, on the Friday, and he gave her a cheque; I believe it was a note—she preferred having gold instead of a note—he said, "It don't matter to me, at the corner of the Grove is my banking account You can go there in the morning and draw the gold"—the bank is in the Broadway, Hammersmith—we all three came away together—grocery was sent or brought by the prisoner to my house; she said some of it was for her own consumption and her little boy's—she was a good deal at my house from the 4th to the 18th—linen was also sent there—I brought it away from Vine Cottages on the Saturday, the 15th—the prisoner packed it up and put it in a cab—I left in the cab, leaving her there—I remember some plate being packed up by the prisoner—it was cleaned in my presence by the prisoner—that went to Church's—she said she had got the silver ready to take with her to Ireland at the same time she took the linen—the prisoner took it to Church's; she said she thought it would be safe there—on Tuesday, the 18th, in the evening, about 6, I went to the house and found there the prisoner, Church, and another man named Mary on—about 7 came the vans with the proprietor and two or three men—a chest of drawers and two or three other things were taken out of the house to the vans—Miss Ives next door spoke to Mr. "Weston—the prisoner said "Who is it inquiring after me?"—I said "The lady next door, that you say is your landlady"—she went to Miss Ives next door, and returned in a few minutes; she certainly seemed a little agitated—she said "Harry, come upstairs and take down a dress or two off the pegs; I want to send them to Hammersmith"—I went up with her and took down the dresses and a fur jacket—we came downstairs together and she went out at the front door I called Church's attention—she went out at the front door, and I saw no

more of her till I saw her at Richmond—I don't know what she did with the dresses—I helped to put hack into the house the things that had been taken out—in a quarter of an hour from the time we missed the prisoner the vans left the house—I and Church went home by train—I had had the prisoner's little boy at our house seven or eight days—when I got back home he was gone—next day we went to Richmond, to Miss Ives's, about 6 or seven in the evening—Church went to Miss Ives's door and knocked; I believe the servant answered the door, and Miss Ives came forward—the prisoner showed me some artificial teeth at my house, I believe on the 10th or 11th; she said they had belonged to her deceased aunt; she wanted to dispose of them, would I go to Hammersmith and take them to a jeweller's shop?—I took them to Mr. Niblett's, a jeweller's, and the prisoner stood outside looking through the window—I sold them for 6s., and gave it to the prisoner, who gave me 1s. for my trouble—on Sunday night, 2nd March, I was at home a portion of the time; I was not at Richmond—I was at Church's house from 9 o'clock up to about half-past 11—Church was there all that time, in and out—on the Monday evening, the next night, I was at home at my own place—I was not at Richmond—I was at Church's that night—I did not see much of him that night, because he was upstairs, engaged with his club—I believe I saw him—I might have been there near three or four hours—I would not go in till half-past 7.

Cross-examined. About five or six years ago I knew the prisoner, I should think, for nearly five or six weeks; it was not six months, she was not next door six months, nothing near it—she used to take notice of my child over the wall—she came into our house once or twice, and played with the child—she seemed fond of it—she was not frequently there, she did not ask one of my daughters to go over and see her at Norland Crescent where she was in service; it is an untruth—during the two months following her leaving she came over and visited us half a dozen times—she was on friendly terms—she did not bring eatables or anything with her—she did not have tea there in my presence—I don't remember her being there one Sunday and having tea with me and my wife; it is so long ago I don't recollect; she might have done—I gave evidence about the photographs before the Magistrates at Richmond—I believe I said one was the photograph of a man with a long beard—I cannot swear I did—I cannot say whether this is the first time I have mentioned in a Court of Justice the photograph of" a man with a long beard—I might have sworn before the Magistrates that the photographs were those of three females—I might have made that mistake—I did not at Richmond say a word about meeting my son William at the Angel—my son William was not called at the police-court till the 8th of May, when I had given my evidence on both occasions—when I was seeing after the disposal of her furniture I expected to be paid for my loss of time—I thought she was in good circumstances—I did not go to Mr. Brooks myself, nor did I speak to any broker—I had promised to find a broker—she was providing meat and groceries the whole fortnight, a portion for herself and child—I had my share—I did not find a broker, because I was otherwise engaged—I did not have short time that first week, it was the second—my hours are from 6 to 5.30—on Sunday night, the 2nd, I was at Church's from 7.30 to closing time—I did not go out till then—I don't know how long it takes to drive from Richmond to Rose

Gardens in a cab; it would not take less than 35 minutes—I might have said at first that it was on Monday, the 10th, that I introduced the prisoner to Church—I could not say whether it was the 10th or 11th—I might have said that on Tuesday, the 11th, she told me she had been down to Richmond with Church—I will swear it was not on Monday, the 3rd of March—Tuesday, the 4th, may have been the day Church ought to have been to Kensington for his bagatelle licensee—I left the house on Tuesday evening at 12.30 as the house closed—I went there after leaving Kate "Webster at the station—I saw the prisoner take the tickets at the District Railway Station, Hammersmith; 1 mean the station on the opposite side of the Broadway, not the one next to Mr. Ayre's public-house; it is the same side as the Clarendon public-house, which Mr. Ayre's brother used to keep; the District Railway used to stop at Hammersmith before it went to Richmond, and the old station is still there; that is the place where she took the tickets; you do not go under any road, but the trains run under the Broadway; the station is down under the Broadway level; the first thing you would have to do would be to go under the road right through the Broadway—the train started soon after we got there, but I could not see because I left them on the top when they took the tickets; I did not go down on to the platform to see them away—I do not remember asking Kate if she would have another glass of ale before she went, or her saying "No, I shall lose the train;" she made no remark about losing the train; she said she wanted to get home as early as she could—when I got back to the Rising Sun at 10 o'clock I saw Church there serving customers—he or his wife are generally there—it was at the station that Kate asked me to let little Bob go down to Richmond; I don't know what that was for; she said "Robert, you might have a ride down to Richmond with me," and she said "I will send him home to-night"—I said "He has got a very nice place of employment, and I do not want him to lose that"—he was not to come back by the next train; she gave no reason for taking him down; I did not think it strange, or I should not have let him go—I know a house called Hartley's at Richmond—she did not say in my presence, "Church is to meet me at Hartley's"—I have met Church at Hartley's on several occasions since this case has been on—I never met him there in the first or second week in March—on the 18th I met them at home; he might have called in at Hartley's on the 18th—I never knew Hartley's until 8th March, Saturday—he keeps the Bell and Anchor—I went down on that Saturday by the prisoner's permission to see the furniture—I was not at Hartley's on Tuesday night, 4th March—I did not know where it was—I did not say to Kate in my house, "Is not the boy going down with you, Kate?"—nothing of the kind, that I swear—we had some conversation at tea; she had not proposed at tea-time that he should go down—I did not see my son William at tea-time; I very seldom see him at all; his business keeps him away—I saw my son Robert on Monday night, 3rd March, at home; he never goes away from home after he has done his day's work, but he may run about the streets—I was at home that night but not all the evening, because after I have had my tea and had a wash I generally spend an hour or two at Church's—I was there that night, I cannot say how long to an hour or two, but I never go farther—I was never out of Hammersmith I am certain—the prisoner did not say to me on the road to the station "Are you coming down to-night?"Nothing of the kind—I lost two and a half days' work between

the 4th and the 18th, because Saturday was a half-holiday—I cannot say whether the prisoner was at my house when I got home on Tuesday, 11th; it's possible she may have come in afterwards, for she spent most of her time at my place—she put down the amounts and I cast them up to 68l.—J don't believe Church knew the value of the goods any more than I did—she wanted to wait till Mrs. Porter came down—I did not say that I thought 50l. was a very fair price for the things—after Miss Ives came out and the prisoner came out and spoke to her, the prisoner went into 2, Vine Cottages, I cannot say whether into the front room—I don't know whether Church was in the front room or not, but I know that he was somewhere about the house preparing to move—she did not remain five minutes after Miss Ives had spoken to her—I did sot see Miss Ives go out with her hat and cloak on—the prisoner was standing in the hall when she asked me to take down the dresses, but I did not bring them down, she brought them down and took them to the van, and never came back—I don't know that she and Church were in the front room talking—after that the vans both went away at the same time, and we went away with them; the large one was first, the one we had put the dresses into; we followed the vans and then went into a public-house—the prisoner did not say in the presence of Church and myself "It is all very well, but who is to pay me"—Church paid her half a sovereign deposit, but what he paid her afterwards I don't know—he did not pay her 2l. at Vine Cottages, but I believe they settled it afterwards—Weston did not refuse to take the things out of the van unless he was paid 3l., nor was the matter compromised by his getting 2l.—I heard of the Barnes mystery—I saw Kate at Richmond the night before, and I expected my son home, but he did not come—I did not see him next morning before I went away; I saw him in the" evening—I did not ask him why he did not come home the night before—I allowed my son to stop out all night without questioning him—he had my permission to go, but not to stay out all night—he did not tell me what took place at the prisoner's at Richmond; I do not remember his saying a word—I did ask him what he thought of the home—he said it was a very nice home, nothing else—he did not tell me till afterwards that she had given him some rum, not till his mother was reading Lloyd's Newspaper about the Barnes mystery—I cannot say the date, but I suppose that would be the 9th—the box was dropped in the river on the 4th, and on the 9th I heard of the Barnes mystery—my son Robert then began to tell me more of what took place on the night that he went to the prisoner's—he told me that he had been on the bridge at Richmond with the box on the Tuesday night with the prisoner, and that he heard a splash—I am quite sure he told me all this on Sunday, the 9th; he described the size of the box with his hands, it answered the description in Lloyd's Newspaper of the box found in the river—I understood from him that he thought the box might have been the one found in the river—I heard previous to March 18th that an inquest had been held on the contents of the box—I may have read a report of the inquest in the paper at which Dr. Adams gave evidence, but I don't know—I take in Lloyd's, the Graphic, and the Illustrated London News—I do not know that I read the report of the inquest on the 18th; my attention was called more to the Graphic than to any other paper—I read the one before the 9th—sometimes I do not take up Lloyd's, on a Sunday, but I happened to do so on Sunday, the 9th—the inquest was held on the 18th—we did not give any information

—we saw Miss Ives; I had the door closed in my face—I cannot tell you the date when I gave any information—the first person I informed was Mr. Menhenick, of Finsbury Park; Church and I went to him together—I don't know whether Church came to me or sent for me; he did not come and have a conversation with me in my front parlour; the conversation which resulted in our going to Menhenick was either in the public-house or my back room, but he wanted to know what had become of his 18l.—I cannot tell you whether he spoke to me in my back room or not, he had very seldom been in my house before the 18th—I don't think he ever had, only calling for cans; he never was in my house but once to my knowledge, and that was when we went boating on the river—I do not think he came on the 20th, the day before we went to Menhenick's, or that he and I went into my back room together, but I cannot swear it—I believe I had the conversation with him the same day that we went to Menhenick's, it was the evening part because we got to Menhenick's about 7 o'clock—I don't remember his mentioning anything about an inquest upon the contents of the box—I won't swear that he did not tell me that Dr. Adams had given some evidence about the bones in the box—I don't believe he ever mentioned there was likely to be a police inquiry, but I cannot swear it—he told me he had got a letter which was written by a friend of Mrs. Thomas—we were not nearly an hour talking together, nor yet a quarter of an hour—I do not know whether anybody else was present; we went away together—I did not think it was a very serious matter after hearing that there was an inquest—I did not think I need trouble myself at all; that being so we went away to Mr. Menhenick's; Church was the principal spokesman—I did not go to the police and give information when the box was found in the river, although my son had spoken about a box, because I had no suspicion, or else I should have been the first to make a complaint and to lay information—I had a suspicion after my son told me that it was like the box, but I did not give information, because I did not suspect the prisoner in the least—Church never paid the prisoner 20l. in my presence—I did not swear at the police-court that I saw two 5l. notes paid on one day, and 10l. in gold on another day, they might have been two 20l. notes; they were bank notes—I have said on two different occasions I saw 18l. paid—I told the Justices at Richmond that I did not have any of the 20l. nor had I—I did not suggest to Church that he should send the police and try to get his 20l. back from the woman, until 21st March—Church did not pay a bill in my presence while the vans were waiting—Church did not speak to me between the 18th and 21st, only respecting his 18l. which he thought was lost, he used every energy to get it back, and so did I; I did not go to the police about it, it would have been very wise if I had—when we went to Mr. Menhenick's, Church told the whole story as far as he was concerned and I said a few words—I did not tell Menhenick that I had had various presents from the prisoner; I may have told him that while she was professing to have a comfortable home at Richmond, she was sleeping in my cottage at Hammersmith—most likely I told him that I was having grocery and meat and all sorts of things from Richmond at her expense—I know a person named Ricketts, he keeps a van, which I hired on Saturday, 15th March, to go to Vine Cottage and to bring the prisoner's boxes, or a portion of her things, but he came back without them; he only brought four chairs, an India-rubber plant, and five or six common flower pots; I paid him for that

—I burnt those chairs before 18th March on a Sunday morning—I believe I had nothing else from Vine Cottage on the 15th; I did not come away with the prisoner, I came home with the laundry work when the chairs were brought to my house—I did not know that 12 lb. of beef was also brought away and that it went to Church's; we had a leg of mutton raw on the 15th from Vine Cottage, and it was cooked at a bake house next door to Church's—I was at Vine Cottage when the plate was taken away; that could not be on the 15th because we came home in a cab; it was in a small square basket, it could not have been brought away on the same Saturday before the furniture, because I came home with the prisoner and Church by the railway, and she had the basket with the silver in it then—she was at my house that night and slept there; I was at Church's that Saturday night, we all went in together, three or four of us; Church, Webster and I, all went from Richmond to Hammersmith in a cab together, and the plate was in a basket; that was on the Saturday—I made a mistake before when I said it was not the 15th—on the day I went down to value the furniture there was no one there but Webster, Church, and myself when the furniture was valued at 50l., nor was there the next day; we went down together the next day—before the 15th, when the plate and the chaise and the other things were removed, no other man but Church and myself was with Webster at Vine Cottage in my presence; I saw Church draw a receipt; I did not hear the prisoner ask him what he drew it for when the thing was between themselves—I did not hear her say anything about a receipt; it was drawn up before we got there—after I got down in the evening, Church asked me to get a receipt stamp, and I got two, one was for her to give a receipt to him on the bill; she did not in my presence, instead of signing the receipt for the money, say "What do you want a receipt for when the matter is between ourselves V nor did she say "To make it all square"—I fetched two stamps, because I did not think a penny stamp would receipt a 68l. bill—they had a bottle of brandy that day, and the prisoner could not find the corkscrew—I have no recollection of Church saying "I believe you have got it, Harry"—I had not got it—I did not leave, and say "I expect some of the property as well as you," Nothing of the kind—I went down more on her part to see that he paid a fair price for the furniture, and gave her the fair value—he knew no more than I did about it, and I only jumped at it—I went that she should have justice—I was never there till after the 8th; I was not there on the 6th, or the Wednesday or Thursday after the Tuesday—I was there on one or two occasions after the 8th, and I may have been there once for four or five hours—I never came home from Richmond but twice in a cab; we did come home late one night, about 10 o'clock; that would be from the 10th to the 16th; I cannot say the night—I went down about 6.30—I was all that time arranging about the furniture, and how it was going to be removed; Church, me, and the prisoner had something to drink, but very little—I cannot say whether that was Wednesday, 12th—the furniture had not been attempted to be packed—that was long before the plate was taken away—when I got down at 6.30 the prisoner did not appear the worse for drink—that was not Tuesday the 4th—I slid not leave Vine Cottage three times in the week which began on the 3rd and ended on the 8th—I never was there; I swear that.

Re-examined. The whole four chairs were only worth 2s.—I destroyed them because the prisoner left me to pay 4s. for the carriage—I did not get

off that by destroying them, but I was annoyed at having to pay the 4s.—I kept the India-rubber plant; I have no idea of the value of it—with the exception of the chairs, the India-rubber plant, the grocery, and the meat I had nothing that came out of Vine Cottage—I got 1s. from the prisoner for selling the teeth; she paid me nothing for taking care of her child, only the provisions—the linen left at my house was to be washed; it was left behind when the prisoner went away, and the police fetched it after the Friday after the house had been searched—I went to Menhenick on the 21st—Church asked me to go there, and we went, and saw him—I did not mention to him about the box my son had carried—Church gave his information—we may have been there about three-quarters of an hour—I believe I made some remarks about the disappearance of Mrs. Thomas—Church gave him a description of her, and he said he could not form any idea whether that was Mrs. Thomas—I believe that Church gave him hit name and address, and he said he would make inquiries and see Mr. Hughes, the lady's solicitor—on the next day Mr. Hughes came to my place, and I went with him and Church to Richmond—we went to the police-station on Saturday, 22nd, and saw Inspector Pear man; I think Church made a statement to him, and we went at once with the inspector to Vine Cottages, and I saw that by going through Miss Ives's house the inspector made an entry into No. 2, Vine Cottages, Mrs. Thomas's—I went in after about half an hour, and saw the inspector look round the place—it was dark, but we had a light—Church took a gold watch and chain out of a cupboard, and I recognised the chain as that the prisoner wore at my place—I also recognised a photograph there, which' I think she said was her father.

ANN PORTER . I am the wife of the last witness—I first knew the prisoner six or seven years ago—she was living next door—I knew her only as Kate—she was a servant out of a situation—she went away to a situation in Norland Crescent, and about nine months afterwards came and visited me very frequently for several weeks, not months—some time after she bad a little boy, and when he was three months old he came' to see me—I did not see her again till Tuesday, March 4th, in my house between four and five p.m.—I knew her—I was not very well—my lodger opened the door—she said "How are you, mother?"—I said, "Kate, how are you I"—she came indoors—she had a black bag with her—she gave me some whisky out of a bottle in her pocket, and then sent the little girl who lived in my house for half a pint of gin and gave me two glasses of it—she said her name was Mrs. Thomas—my husband came home—her bonnet was on all this time—they had tea and I went up to bed—she had a black dress on—I heard her say that she wanted my boy to go to Richmond and my husband—I did not see them start—I saw Thurlow come in before I went up—he is a neighbour—I was awake when my husband came home—I remember Robert, my son, coming home next morning between eight and nine with some groceries—I knew he had been away all night—he went to his work—on the same morning the prisoner came to my house and stayed the night—she said her name was Mrs. Thomas; her aunt had left her the home at Richmond, and she had a nice home; and she said, "Mother, you had better come and see me at Richmond"—I did not ask her if her husband was alive or not—she slept at my house on Thursday, and on Friday I went down to Richmond—before I left I saw a purse on my table—I opened it—it contained three rings, a postage-stamp, and the keys of 2, Vine Cottages—they were small rings—I

took those things down to Richmond and went to 2, Vine Cottages—Kate had given me the address—I knocked at the door—after waiting a little she came up the front garden from the road, and said, "Oh, mother, I've been to Hammersmith looking after you and I saw your bonnet and shawl gone"—I gave her her purse and we went in—it was eight or nine in the morning and I had breakfast with her—nobody else was in the house—I went upstairs—she said her aunt died and left that home and she wanted to dispose of it, and hoped father would get some one to make a bargain for it; all that was in the kitchen she would give to me; the other things she wanted to dispose of, but the best things she would take to Ireland—she said she did not want an auction sale, she wanted them sold privately—I saw a photograph there which she said was her father—I stayed with her about two hours chatting, and when I left she returned with me to Hammersmith and brought some groceries with her—she paid the fare for both of us and stopped all night Friday—I expect she came again next day, Saturday, the 8th, but I can hardly remember—on the Friday or Saturday in the next week my husband brought some chemises, drawers, night-dresses, table-covers, antimacassars, and petticoats to be washed and got up for her by the following Saturday, when she was going to call for them—I washed them, but did not get them up; they were left with me when she went away—I remember four old chairs coming and an India-rubber plant and the flower pots—my husband burnt the chairs—I had charge of the prisoner's little boy; he will be six years old next August—she brought him on the Thursday in the following week and asked me to take charge of him, and I had him in my house about a week—I was not paid for it, but—she brought grocery and so on—what she brought would keep her and her boy—I was not at home when he was taken away—I always knew the prisoner as Mrs. Thomas from the 4th—I went to Richmond twice; I took the boy down once.

Cross-examined. When I lived next door to the prisoner five or six years ago I had a child, who is dead, and the prisoner took notice of him and played with him; she seemed to be a kind, good-natured girl—she lived next door to me about six months—I knew on the 4th that my husband and the boy were going with her to Hammersmith Station—Shaftesbury Road is nearer to my house than Hammersmith Broadway Station—I was never at Richmond in the evening; I came home with Johnny, the little boy, in a cab, but cannot tell whether it was at 11 o'clock or 12 o'clock at night—some grocery and meat came in the cab—that was not in the same week that she came with the little boy; it Was the Thursday in the following week—I do not know whether Church was there when I got to Richmond—I got there late in the afternoon and came home late at night, but I had no refreshment—I was not there five or six hours', only about two hours—I was at home on Saturday, the 15th, when Ricketts's van brought the chairs; they were not up to much; they were old and wanted bottoming; they were cane-bottomed chairs with no bottoms in them—I had not seen them when at Vine Cottages, though I had been into every room in the house—I saw them delivered on the Saturday, but my husband was not there, nor was the boy—I did not see him in the van—I did not see him get out and help to bring in the India-rubler plant and the chairs—I was not standing at the door—I saw the chairs when they were delivered, but I was not at home at the time—my house is open when I go out; anybody can walk in—Church is not an old friend of mine; I have known him

about 10 years—I recollect my son Robert stopping out all night on the Tuesday, when he went with the prisoner to Richmond, and coming back, in the morning of the 5th with a bag full of grocery, but no books—I said "Why did you not come back, Bob?"He said "The train was late, and I could not get a cab, I had no money"—he said that he had helped Kate to carry a box to the bridge, and there was a man on the bridge with a tall hat on who passed him, and he went home to Vine Cottages and she gave him some rum and made him tight, and he laid on the floor all night and she laid on the best bed—my husband was not at home—he did not tell me that on the 5th, he only said that Kate detained him all night; he did not tell me till the following Sunday, when he was reading the newspaper to the family; he read that a box was found floating about on the Thames near Barnes with human remains in it, and then he said, "Why, I carried a box for Kate;" He told me then that he had heard a splash after he left Kate, and that the box he carried was like that described in the newspaper—my husband was not there; he was at Church's—it was between 12 and 1 when my son read the paper to me and Mrs. Clark, and he said, "That is the box I carried over the bridge"—it was past 1, because my husband was at Church's; when I said between 12 and 1,1 made a mistake; we do not dine before 3 on Sundays, after the public-houses are closed; I dare say my husband was at Church's from 1 to 3—I did not tell him that Bob said that the box was like the box found in the river—Bob told his father, but his father did not speak to me about it—I did not read an account of the inquest on the bones, in the newspaper, but I have heard of it—I did not make any communication to anybody, although my son told me that the box was like the box with the bones in it; I kept it entirely to myself.

By the COURT. I can give no reason for keeping it to myself; I did not think it would get my son into trouble, but it has brought us into a good deal of trouble; I did not keep it secret, because my son went and told Mr. Church—I said at the police-court that it was the unluckiest week I ever had, not the luckiest.

JAMES THOMAS THURLOW . I am a painter and decorator, of 42, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—I have lived in Rose Gardens nine years, opposite Porter's, and have worked 14 or 15 years in the same employ as Porter—I was at Porter's on 4th March, and saw the prisoner there—I heard her name was Mrs. Thomas—she was in the back room sitting at the tea-table—there was a bag under the tea-table of black American leather—I was in the loom from 10 minutes to a quarter of an hour—the prisoner told Porter she was going to sell her furniture, except the best bed and bedding; those she should keep for herself—the things in the kitchen he was to have, excepting the services—she called him "Father"—she said, "Perhaps you will be able to find me a respectable broker"—Porter said he would see what he could do—I remained standing—I went back to my own house, and stood at the front door smoking—the factory clock struck 7 just before they came out—Porter's boy came out with a black bag, followed by the prisoner, and Porter was walking behind—I saw them for about a hundred yards—they did not change their positions—they went down Rose Gardens towards the bridge, and I lost sight of them by the second lamp-post—I do not know what became of them afterwards—they stayed at Church's till 11.45—Porter was there from the time he came in up to 11.45, and Church was serving in the

bar all the evening—that was Tuesday, the 4th—I had been at the Rising Sun on the Monday evening; I went at 7.30 and stopped till 12—I do not belong to the Slate Club, but I knew it was held there—Porter and Church were there on the Monday night—I saw Church there till 12 o'clock, when Porter and I came away together—on Sunday night, the 2nd, I went into Church's with Porter at a few minutes before 8, and remained till 10—Church was there—Goodrich was with us—I saw the prisoner at Porter's door on Sunday, 9th March, and also at Church's door between 1 and 2 o'clock with Porter and his son, and I think Mrs. Porter, but I won't be sure—on the 16th I saw her about 10.30 a.m. with Mrs. Porter—Porter called me over to look at the India-rubber plant which he had, and while he was showing it to me the prisoner stood at the front door and said to Mrs. Porter, "It is a very fine one, is it not, mother?"—Mrs. Porter said, "Yes, as fine a one as I have ever seen," the prisoner said "It is not as fine ft one as I ever saw, for I have seen one quite as tall; I brought it out of the drawing-room into the kitchen, as I had a grand ball at my house about a month ago."

Cross-examined. Porter told me that the prisoner was a friend of his, and that she had fallen into some property by an aunt of here—I was very often at Church's—I was there on 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th March—there was nothing particular in seeing him serving behind the bar, to fix it on my memory as any particular day—Porter works for the same firm as I do, and sometimes with me—he is not at work with me now, he was when I was at the police-court—he was under me—I live immediately opposite him—I thought nothing of seeing the prisoner with a black bag at tea time—I did not ponder the matter over in my mind as early as March 8, and I do not think I said so at the police-court—I went to the house to borrow a spade, but Mr. Porter had not got one, he had lent it—Mrs. Porter was not there when the prisoner promised Porter the things in the kitchen except the services—he said that he would see what he could do to find her a broker—that was in Church's house—I do not know whether it is a furnished house—I have only been in one room upstairs, the bagatelle room—it is two cottages turned into a beer shop—it had not the appearance of re joining any furniture—I went to the station and gave information on 7th April, and the police referred me to the Treasury—I had read articles about it; I had not seen Mrs. Porter's statement then, but I have since—the day is fixed in my mind by its being Sandown Park races on the Tuesday—I was not there—there are a good many races in the year, and I go to them; I have betted at them, but not now—I was not at Church's on Tuesday, the 6th, before I went into Porter's—I leave off work at 6.30 now—I can always hear the factory clock strike when I am at home—I left the Rising Sun at 10 o'clock—Church attends races sometimes, but I have not been with him—I am at Church's every evening—I am sure I went to Porter's on Sunday, March 16, about 10.30 a. m.; I saw the prisoner there—she had no dress on, only a little bit of a cape thrown over her shoulders and a petticoat—I did not see her at Porter's on Sunday evening, the 9th, but I saw her at Church's at dinner-time with Porter and his son William, and I think Mrs. Porter, but I will not be certain—Church was in the bar—I was there again on Monday night, the 10th, and saw Church there—I was not there on Tuesday, the 11th; I believe I was at home all the evening—I have not heard that he was away from his house that evening and at Richmond with

the prisoner, and came home late—I was not at the police-court on the 13th, 14th, and 15th; I was ill in bed—I was not at work on the Friday and Saturday—I went to the Treasury on 8th April—I was not at the police-court on 31st March—I heard from my wife on Sunday, the 30th, that Church was arrested—I did not hear it from Porter; I did not see him that Sunday—I was not in at Church's at all; I was at home—I was not ill then, but I did not want to go there—Church was not a very particular friend of mine; we have not been out together; I have used his house frequently during the last nine years, almost every evening—I was there on 23rd March, the Sunday before, and on 16th March, the Sunday before that—I do not know on what Sunday in February I was there.

Re-examined. Porter did not use the name Kate Webster, he said "Mrs. Thomas"—my wife told me about 2 o'clock on the Sunday that Church was taken in custody.

By the COURT. I first began to have a notion on 24th March that I could give important evidence; that was through Porter's boy coming to Church's at the dinner hour one Sunday and talking about the matter—the first thing I did was to speak to Porter about it, he was present at Church's at the time the boy spoke—that was on the 24th, and I took steps on 7th April—I went to the police, and they referred me to the Treasury solicitor.

WILLIAM PORTER . I am the son of Henry Porter—on 4th March I was living with my father and mother, and was in Mr. Chapmill's employ, a baker, of King Street, Hammersmith, where I have been seven years—on that day I saw my father and brother at about 7 p.m. with the prisoner; I was then coming out of the shop where I work—I fix the day because it was my birthday—the prisoner spoke to me first—she asked me how I was getting on, and shook hands with me—I said "I do not know you"—she said "I am Kate, who used to live next door to you"—I said "Well, I have some slight recollection"—it was six or seven years since I had seen her—she told me that she was living at Richmond and had a home of her own, and asked me if I would go down and see it—I said that I might run down one evening when I had time, but I could not fix any time, and they passed on—my father was carrying a bag—I think it was black—I did not know the prisoner's name then—I saw her again on Thursday, the 6th March, at my father's house—she told me she was living at Richmond and had a house and furniture, and asked me to come down and see her home—I said that I would go that evening if I could get away, and I went that evening between six and seven o'clock with her—we went to Vine Cottages—she had left the keys behind, and by means of a ladder I got through one of the windows and opened the door; we both went in—I was there about two hours, during which time she showed me some photographs and a likeness of her father, who she said was living in Ireland, and she was going to sell her home and go and live with him—I had some spirits of some sort and left her there and returned home alone—I saw her three or four times—I went again on Saturday, the 15th, with Harry Bass—Church and the prisoner were there when I got there, and I remained about two hours and had some spirits—the prisoner went to my father's house and stayed that night—next day, Sunday, we went on the water, the prisoner, Church, Mrs. Church, their child, my friend and myself—that was merely a pleasure party—that was the last time I saw her—I always knew her as Mrs. Thomas.

Cross-examined. I was 22 years old last birthday—I was about 16 when the prisoner was staying opposite us—to the best of my recollection I was first examined at the police-court about the beginning of May—I do not know the date, I have a very bad memory—I know I was at Vine Cottages on 6th March because it was two days after my birthday—I do not know what fixes the 16th of March on my recollection—I am sure it was not the 9th when we went on the water—I am sure my friend Bass went down the day before the water party—I am sure my father was not there—I did not hear my father or Church or Bass call her Mrs. Thomas, but she told me herself that that was her name—I went home by train on the 16th, not in a cab—I went back to my situation nail shut the shop up—I got home about twelve o'clock—I left Richmond about eleven, and it took me about twenty minutes to get home—I did not see anything of my father that day—I did not see a basket of plate—I got to Richmond about nine—Church was there—it is not true that Church, Webster, and my father all went home in a cab with the basket of plate—on the 6th I put the ladder against a window at the side of the house over the hall and got in there—she had left the key at my father's house and my mother found it—I will not swear that, but she found the puree—I won't swear that somebody else may not have picked them up and handed them to her—I was at home on Sunday, March 2nd, but not in the evening—I never stay at home on Sunday evenings—I went out for a walk and came home again; I can't say where or whether with a friend or a young woman.

HARRIET COX . I keep the Oxford and Cambridge beerhouse, King's Road, Hammersmith—I remember in the early part of March, between 8 and 9 p.m., seeing a man, a woman, and a boy looking at some photographs in the bar—I could not be certain who the woman was—I saw the woman showing a photograph to the man—I asked her to allow me to see it; she showed it to me; I asked if it was meant for herself; she said "Yes"—I said "It is not like you"—it was the size of a shilling or a little larger—they were there about 20 minutes, but I was not there when they came in—I was eating my supper; I was not serving—my niece, Millicent Street, was there—I cannot say whether the woman left before the other two.

Cross-examined. As far as I know she remained the whole time—she never left while I was there.

MILLICENT STREET . I assist my aunt in her business—I saw a person give a photograph to my aunt in the bar—I cannot recognise the prisoner—there were two or three persons in the bar—the female had been there then about a quarter of an hour—I did not see what sort of photograph it was—I saw her come in with a man and a boy, and I served her—she went out—I did not see her go out—she was away 20 minutes and then came back—the man and the boy remained there.

Cross-examined. I was first asked to give evidence in March, I think, hut I won't be positive whether it was March or April—I cannot say that it was not in May—I did not see the woman go out, but I know she was out 20 minutes because I was having my supper 20 minutes—I looked at the time when I went to my supper—a gentleman took my evidence down—he did not tell me that the woman who showed my aunt the photograph was Kate Webster—about three people were in the bar—it is a beer and wine house—I was not called at the police-court—I read statements and histories of this case in the papers, giving the details, besides the police

reports—I heard it said by people in front of our bar that Kate Webster had been there—it was common talk—I did not hear that she had left the bar and gone on to Hammersmith Broadway—I was as deaf then as I am now, and I could not hear their conversation.

By the COURT. I saw her come in twice; the first time with a man and a boy about 16'—I then went to supper; she had gone out then, and I saw her back just as I came in—I did not see the photograph, but my aunt told me at the time that it was a photograph—there was only one, but I could not see the face of it—I saw no black bag—60 or 70 people come in there in a day.

Friday, July 4th, 1879.

JOHN CHURCH . I live at the Rising Sun, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—I have lived there nine years; it is a wine and beer house—I am married and live there with my wife and one child, between six and seven years old—I have a potboy—the one I then had did not sleep in the house, the one have now does—in the beginning of March I had no servant sleeping in the house—before I took this house I had been a gentleman's servant, and before that I had been in the army—I left the army in 1866—I purchased my discharge—I enlisted in 1857 in the 11th Hussars and stopped there till 1866—on Sunday, 2nd March, I was at my house, the Rising Sun—it opens at 1 o'clock on Sundays and remains open till 3 o'clock—it opens again at 6 o'clock and remains open until 11 o'clock—I was at home during that day; I did not leave Hammersmith at all that day between 6 and 11 o'clock in the evening—I was serving behind the bar—my wife was at home—I saw Henry Porter there between 1 and 3 o'clock, and in the evening from 8 till 10 o'clock—Thurlow was there till nearly closing time—Mr. and Mrs. Munt were both there—I slept at home on Sunday night—I did not go out after 11 o'clock—on the following morning I got up about 10 o'clock—I attended to work in the house and remained at home till midday—I did not leave Hammersmith at all that day—in the evening a Mr. Camera Kiss, a jeweller, of Oxford Street, called between 6 and 7 o'clock, and I had a glass of wine with him—it was a usual thing for him to call every Monday evening—on that Monday, 3rd March, there was a meeting of the Oak Slate Club, that is a benefit society held at my house, a sick and burial club—this (produced) is a book of the society's rides—they meet the first Monday in the month at my house, and that was the night of meeting; 7 o'clock is the usual time, but 7.30 is the time allowed for them to meet, and 10 o'clock is the ordinary time of closing—on that night the meeting took place as usual—I was the treasurer, George Woodbridge was the secretary—there are three keys to the box, I had one, and Harris and Taylor, the stewards, the others—the box cannot be opened unless the three are present with the keys—on that night the stewards and treasurer were present with the keys and the box was opened—the secretary was there with the book; he enters the amount paid by each member—a number of members of the club attended to pay their subscriptions—I saw Porter and Thurlow that night in front of the bar—I was down several times in the evening, in the course of the club meeting, which is held upstairs—my wife attended downstairs—I saw Porter and Thurlow there till 10 or 11 o'clock—I remained at the house till closing time, 12.30, and then retired to bed—the following day, Tuesday, the 4th, was the licensing day at Kensington

—I have a billiard and bagatelle licensee—I applied for a billiard licensee on that day at the Vestry Hall, Kensington—I went there about 10 o'clock in the morning—I remained there till between 1 and 2 o'clock—I did not get the renewal of my licensee; I was out when my name was called—I then went to Sandown Park races, I got there between 2 and 3 o'clock—after leaving there I came home to Hammersmith—I went to Sandown Park from the Addison Road Station—I got back to Hammersmith between 6 and 7 o'clock—I called on Mr. Evans, a fishmonger, in King Street, on my way home, and bought a pair of soles and took them home with me—I then had tea and remained at home till the closing hour and then went to bed—my wife was at home—I was playing a game of dominoes in the evening with a man named Allen, and Johnson was scoring for us—I did not go to Richmond at all that day, I was at home on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday in that week, attending to my business in the ordinary way—I knew the prisoner as Mrs. Thomas—I first saw her on Sunday, 9th March, at my house between 1 and 3, in front of the bar—Porter, Mrs. Porter, William Porter, and Mr. Thurlow were with her—I did not know her—Porter said, "This is Mrs. Thomas"—I said, "I don't know her n—she said, 'Don't you know me?"—I said, "I do not"—she said, "I was an old neighbour of Porter's some years ago"—I said I had no recollection of her, nor had I even then—they had their ale and left, and went towards Porter's house—my wife was not present; she was in the house, not at the bar—I next saw the prisoner the next morning, Monday, the 10th, between 1 and 3—Mrs. Porter was with her—I was going out—I think there was a boat race on that day—I saw Mrs. Porter, who asked if I was going to stand anything, and I did pay for something at the Anglesey—I asked Mrs. Porter where the prisoner lived, and she said No. 2, Mayfield or Vine Cottages, Richmond—I then left them—that was the first time I heard the address—I saw the prisoner next day, Tuesday, the 11th—I went first to a licensing meeting at Kensington for my beer and wine licence—I got it and the billiard licence renewed—in the evening, some time between 5 and 7, I went to Richmond, in consequence of what Porter had said to me about this lady having some furniture to dispose of—I had not been to Richmond since the Shah was there, some considerable time before—the prisoner let me in to 2, Vine Cottages—I went into the front sitting-room and the parlour—her little boy was there—I said I had come to look at the furniture she had to dispose of—I don't recollect what she replied—I stayed to between 9 and 10—I did not examine the things—I talked with the prisoner—she said her aunt had died and left her all this furniture, and she was going over to live with her father in Scotland, who was a solicitor—she showed me a photograph on the chimney-piece, and said it was her father; it was in a frame—she said she was going over to Scotland to keep his house, as he was in bad health—I came to no arrangement with her on that occasion—I took no refreshment, no food—I saw cups and saucers and breakfast things in the back parlour—I said, "I see you have had company"—she said, "Yes, I have"—when I left that night the prisoner went with me to the station—she left the little boy in the house—we went into the Railway Tavern, Hartley's, where we had some drink—I returned alone by train to Hammer smith—next day, Wednesday, the 12th, I went to Richmond again in the evening about 6 or 7, with Henry Porter—we went to No. 2, "Vine Cottages, and the prisoner opened the door—there was no one else in the house to my

recollection—Porter said he had brought me to purchase the furniture and look over it—we went upstairs and looked over the house—nothing passed between me and the prisoner as to the purchase on that occasion—I stayed till between 9 and 10—the three of us left together and went to the railway station and to Hammersmith—next day, Thursday, the 13th, the prisoner, Porter, and I went by rail from Hammersmith to Richmond between 11 and 12 in the morning—before that I had seen Mr. Weston, a greengrocer, who removes furniture—the prisoner, Porter, and I went to him together—I asked if he could move some furniture—he said, "Yes" and that he would go and see it—he arranged to meet us at Richmond at 3—on that day at Richmond the prisoner opened the side door with a key—Weston came to see what there was to bring and what he could take them for—I made a list of the furniture (pencil list produced)—I offered her 50l. for the furniture—she had pointed out what she wanted to sell—she said she did not think it enough—I just ran over the list I had taken and offered her 68l.—Porter went over the furniture with the prisoner after I had offered the 50l., and when she came in with Porter again she said the 50l. was not enough—she agreed to take 68l.—I paid a deposit of 18l.—she said she wanted to pay some little bills; would I advance some of the money—a tradesman did call—I gave her two 5l. notes and 8l. in gold—she said she would sooner have gold than notes or cheques—I said she could get them changed where I had a banking account, at the London and County Bank, Hammersmith—the plate was not included in the list, that was to be left at my place for safety till she called for it—she said, "Take this, when the men are moving the goods some of it may be lost"—Weston came down that day—I and the prisoner saw him—he looked round the house to see what he should require to remove the things—he returned by himself—I left at 9 or 10—the notes I gave her I had taken in my business, not from the bank—I took no receipt for them—we returned, Porter, the prisoner, and I, together by rail, she taking with her the plate in a square basket—it was left at my place—some candlesticks, besides the plate in the basket, were taken—they were put in the club-room—she left my house with Porter—I got home between 10 and 11—next day, Friday, the 14th, I went to Richmond with Porter and the prisoner by train—I went to see about the furniture, how we should pack it—there was no one in the house then—afterwards, in the evening, Mrs. Porter came down, and Robert Porter came in—we returned in a cab between 10 and 11, the prisoner with us—I believe a pair of curtains and some other things were taken by the prisoner and were put in the club-room of my house with the other things—on Saturday, the 15th, land Mr. Henderson, a grocer, went to Richmond in a cab between 4 and 5 p.m.—Mr. Henderson went to look at the furniture—the prisoner did not go with us—she let us in—we stayed to between 9 and 10—Henry Porter came in in the evening—Henderson and Henry Porter went home in the hansom cab which brought Henderson and me, between 7 and 8—they took some linen in a parcel which the prisoner put in the cab—she said to Henry Porter, "Take these up to be washed"—after they left we (the prisoner and I) came up by train—no one was in the house except me and the prisoner after they had left—I had no drink on that occasion—we left the house between 9 and 10; I went home; the prisoner went to Porter's—on Sunday, the 16th, I went boating with the prisoner, William Porter, a friend of his, my wife and child, in the afternoon—on Monday, the 17th, in the afternoon, between 3 and 4, I went to Richmond by myself; the

prisoner was at home and let me in; no one else was in the house; I stayed till between 9 and 10—I made a mistake; I went with the prisoner to Richmond that day—at the station at Richmond we took a cab—the cabman was examined at the inquiry at Richmond—we called in the cab at Mr. Wood's, jeweller, in Richmond—the prisoner asked if Mrs. Thomas's watch was done—the boy said it had better be left for another time—the prisoner said "Very well; I want a pair of earring"," and bought a pair for 1l., and I paid for them; she said she would pay me again when I paid her for the furniture—she said she would like a pair like my wife's earrings—she took the earrings away with her—I went away with her in the cab to Vine Cottages—the prisoner opened the. door; there was no one else in the house—it was between 3 and 4 p.m.—I stayed till 8, 9, or 10, and left alone—I fetched a bottle of brandy; we both drank some of it; no one, else came in that evening—on Tuesday, the 18th, at 10 a.m., I saw the prisoner sitting in my bar parlour with my little girl; my little girl was showing her some photographs of my wife and child—in that place I have address cards with my name and that of the house—they are kept in sight of any one who sits on the sofa in the bar parlour, as the prisoner did—there were photographs of myself—the police showed me at Richmond a card and a photograph of mine—the prisoner remained with my little girl while I was out—I left to see a man named Mary on, who was to come down and assist in moving the furniture—when I came back the prisoner was still there, and I told her they were ready to start for Richmond—it was between 11 and 12—Maryon and I went into my house; the prisoner was still there—we three left together between 11 and 12—we went to Weston's and to the bank where I keep an account, and I went in and drew a cheque for 50l. payable to J. Church or bearer, cashed it over the counter, and got ten 5l. notes—I came out with the notes, joined the prisoner and Mary on, and took the notes down to Richmond—we went by rail to Richmond—the cheque is that I hold in my hand—it is dated the 18th, and has the perforation and stamp of the bank on it—I had to my credit at that time over 200l.—on March 3rd I had 245l. to my credit; I had banked there from August, 1876—I got to Richmond between 12 and 1 o'clock—the men assisted in tying up the prisoner's boxes and preparing the furniture for removal—Porter came before the vans in the evening—the vans arrived between 6 and 7 p.m.—the prisoner, Mary on, and I had three glasses of brandy each, which finished the brandy—when Porter came in I sent him for a receipt stamp—he brought two—I drew this receipt (produced), and I stuck on to it one of the receipt stamps which Porter had brought—I put it on the mantelpiece in the front room, the drawing room—Mary on, Porter, Weston, and a man named Smith (I think Mr. Weston brought three men) were there when the vans were there, and while they were there a man called for Mr. Wheeler's account; the prisoner came and asked me for two sixpences to pay the bill, and I gave her two in change for a shilling; the prisoner went to the door to pay the man the bill—three or four articles of furniture were brought out of the house and put in the van—I was in the front room, when I heard some one come and inquire who was removing the furniture—the prisoner was in the house, and asked who it was inquiring—I said "The lady next door, "Whom the prisoner said was her landlady—the prisoner walked out down the garden, and said "Who wants me I"—I came, out and saw her go to the next house—she was a few minutes away, and returned

greatly agitated and excited; she went inside No. 2—I did not see Miss Ives that evening—I ordered the things to be removed back into the house, as I would have nothing to do with them—only one van had things in it at that time—I had, before the things were taken out, to agree with Weston as to paying him for his trouble—I paid him 2l. down, and agreed to pay him 1l. more—I saw the prisoner with some dresses on her arm, which she threw into the van—Mr. Weston said "I'll take charge of them"—she also had a bonnet-box (produced)—the van was a large furniture-removal van with Weston's name on it—she threw the dresses into the van and went away—that was the last I saw of her until she was in custody—she had her bonnet on; she was dressed; she had not a bonnet on, to my recollection, when she went next door—Mary on shut up the house; he closed the door when we left—we went to the public-house round the corner; all of us went in—before we got to the public-house Mary on went back for my coat—I stayed about 20 minutes at the public-house; I returned by rail with Mary on and Porter; the journey from Rose Gardens to Vine Cottage is about six miles; it is half an hour's drive by cab—we got home between 9 and 10 o'clock—Weston and a man brought the dresses and box to my house that night—at first I did not consent to take the things in; my wife took them in—the prisoner had borrowed a sovereign of her—they were taken upstairs into the club-room—I did not know what had become of the prisoner—I knew her by no other name than as Mrs. Thomas—the next evening I went to Richmond, and went to Miss Ives's house—on Tuesday evening the 21st my wife showed me a letter—this (produced) is it—it is addressed to Mrs. Thomas and signed "Menhennick, 45, Ambler Road, Finsbury Park"—she also showed me this purse and five rings, and told me where she got them from; I went to Porter and told him the circumstance, and he and I went that same evening to 45, Ambler Road, and saw Mr. Menhennick, and in Porter's presence I made a communication to him—I think we got there about 8 or 9 o'clock—we were with him perhaps an hour—on Saturday, 22nd, I received a letter from him, and Mr. Hughes, the solicitor of Mrs. Thomas, came to my place that day, and he and I and Porter went together from Hammersmith to Richmond—we went to the police-station there—we went with Inspector Pearman to Vine Cottages; we went to Miss Ives first, and through her house into No. 2, And in the cupboard there I found the—gold watch and chain I had seen at the jeweller's—I also saw the photograph of myself, and the photograph which the prisoner had shown me as that of her father—some time after that I gave up to the police all the things that had been left at my house by the prisoner—up to Saturday the 22nd I had not made any communication to the police—after that Saturday I saw the police officers from time to time—on Sunday, the 30th, I went to the police-station at Richmond, between 9 and 10 a. m., and saw the prisoner there in custody—her statement was read over to me in her presence—I also made a statement—I said that I was not at Richmond at the time, I believe, or something to that effect—I did not notice what the prisoner said—I was then taken into custody and charged with the murder of Mrs. Thomas, and with being in possession of the property stolen from her—I was taken before the Magistrate next day and remanded, and on 17th April, at the request of the counsel for the Crown, discharged—on the following day I went with my wife to the Treasury and made a statement—I never gave my card and photograph to the prisoner—during the time she was away, from Tuesday, 18th, till she was in custody,

I never received any letter from her from Ireland—I knew no other person as Mrs. Thomas except the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I do not know my native place—I think I was between 19 and 20 when I went into the army—I had not to go before a Magistrate and describe myself; to the best of my recollection I did not; I had to go before a Magistrate to be sworn in as a soldier—I don't believe the description was given at the time—I might have described myself as a clerk; I cannot say—I said at the police-court that it was not correctly stated—I might have said I described myself wrongly—I don't know what I did for my living before I went into the army—I expect I worked for my living; I don't recollect what I did; I don't recollect whether I was a barman—I did not know the prisoner about six years ago—I was in the habit of supplying beer to the houses in Erse Gardens, to the house where the Porters lived, and to the houses on either side—I don't recollect ever seeing the prisoner before the 9th—I was never in her company about six years ago to my recollection; I swear it—I have applied for my billiard and bagatelle licence four or five years to the best of my recollection—I have had my name missed several times before; if it has not been for the billiards it has been for my beer and wine licence; I have been late, and a great many more publicans likewise—I left the vestry hall on the 4th after I found that my name was called; I did not apply again; I did not go into the vestry hall again; I left before the licensing meeting was concluded; I left between 1 and 2 with some friends—as near as I recollect it was between 3 and 4 on Tuesday the 11th that I went to Richmond; I might be a little mistaken as regards the time—I was never there before—I might have told the Magistrate that I was not there for a long time—I said I stopped there from 4 till 9 or 10—I went into the front and back rooms; I did not go into any other room to my knowledge—I went there to look at the furniture—I was sitting down; I had a cigar; I might have had something to drink, but I don't recollect what it was—I don't recollect what I had to eat or drink—I don't recollect saying at the police-court that I had nothing to eat or drink in the house that day—Sunday, the 9th, was the first time I saw the prisoner—Porter introduced her as Mrs. Thomas, who had the furniture to sell—I said if any of it suited me I would buy it—my house was not so very well furnished, I could have done with more—Porter had told me in the week before that Mrs. Thomas had furniture to sell—I did not make an appointment on the 10th to meet Porter at Hartley's, the Station Hotel; it was one day in the week when Porter told me of it; I made one engagement to meet him at Hartley's in the week ending Saturday, the 8th—I can't tell what day it was—it was not Monday, the 3rd, I am quite sure of that; it was more at the end of the week—I did not say at the police-court that I made an appointment to meet him on the Monday; I might have made an appointment on Monday to meet him at Hartley's on Tuesday—it was on Tuesday, the 11th, that I was at Hartley's with the prisoner, between 9 and 10, to the best of my recollection—it did not strike me as strange that I should be treating her the very next day after I knew her; it was Mrs. Porter, who I had known for years, that I went to treat; of course the prisoner had part of the liquor—it does not strike me as strange that I should have stopped with the prisoner, a stranger, alone in the house from 4 till 9 or 10—I said at first that the prisoner and I went to the Thatched House; that was a mistake—

she left me on Tuesday night between nine and ten, I don't know where she went to—I went down again on Wednesday, the 12th; I got there to the best of my recollection between six and seven—I don't recollect whether there was a child there or not—I saw a child the day before—I don't recollect seeing the boy on the Wednesday—I was not singing—Porter went with me, I am quite sure of that—he did not get down after me—he went down for me and him to look at the furniture—on one occasion he came down afterwards; he may have done so on one or two occasions, not three or four—I was there on the Wednesday between six and seven; I came home between nine and ten; I and Porter and the prisoner all went home together by train—I believe we went to the Thatched House and had something to drink—Porter is not a particular friend of mine, he is a customer—we did not go into my house simply because I don't drink beer, I don't keep brandy, and I was bilious and wanted a drop of brandy—I then went into my house and she and Porter passed on—she did not go into my house that night—the prisoner and I went down to Richmond together on the following morning after I had seen Weston—we promised to meet Weston there at three—we got there between three and four; Weston got there before we did—we went over the furniture and I paid 18l. upon it—I left Richmond that Thursday night with the prisoner and Porter between nine and ten—between three and four and nine and ten we went and looked over the furniture to see what I would give for it, and I and the prisoner went over it afterwards—of course it did not take all that time; I was sitting down and it may be smoking—when we got back to Hammersmith we went again to the Thatched House—on Friday, the 14th, I went again to Richmond with the prisoner and Porter—I suppose we were going to do the same as we did the other day, sitting down and seeing the furniture, and having another look over it to see if I had got a bargain—I won't be sure what time we got there on the Friday; it may have been about three or four—I stopped till about ten or half-past—I am not used to brokerage; I went to look over it again to see if they were worth what I was going to give for them—it did not take me all that time—I was sitting down and smoking—my wife was at home looking after the business—on the Friday we went to the Thatched House again—on Saturday I went down again in a hansom, between five and six—I did not come back in the hansom, I came back by train—I can't say how long I kept the hansom waiting—I believe I went home by rail with the prisoner—I won't swear to our being alone; I think William Porter was down there that night—I don't recollect whether I went back alone with the prisoner—we did not call at Hartley's, I don't know whether we did at the Thatched House—we went on the water on Sunday; it was not my proposition the prisoner's going on—she was no more friendly with me than any customer or any one else that I had transactions with; that I swear—I won't swear whether she took the watch from Wood's on Monday, the 17th, or not—I think I have said that she did—she took a fancy to my wife's earrings, and I was to pay for a pair and deduct the money—I swear that I did not make her a present of the earrings—I had given her 18l. before I bought the earrings—it is best known to herself why she did not pay for them; she said she had some bills to pay—I did not suggest to her that she had plenty of money to pay for the earrings; I bought them and paid for them—I had not the chance of asking her for the money back—I don't remember whether

the 18th of March was a cold day—I can't say whether I wore an Ulster that day; I have an Ulster; I will not say whether I had it on that day—I might have walked with the prisoner with an Ulster on—I did not walk arm in arm with her—I won't swear whether I did or not—I heard from Mr. Weston that Miss Ives was making a difficulty about the removal of the furniture—I was not on more friendly terms with the prisoner than business transactions—I was not on affectionate terms with her—I might have called her Kate; I won't say I did not, because I have heard Porter call her Kate—I won't swear whether she did or did not call me Jack—I won't swear either way—I don't recollect telling the Magistrates that I did not call her Kate, and she did not call me Jack—Porter may have called me Jack—I believe I said something about her having deceived me when the furniture was being stopped—after she spoke to Miss Ives she came back into No. 2—I don't believe that she had her bonnet on then—she had got my 18l. and the 1l. for the earrings and numerous cab fares and brandies and liquors, altogether I was out of pocket something like 25l.—I had not the chance to stop her and give her into custody, I did not think she was going away—she went into the house; I can't say whether she went upstairs, I went into the front room; I don't know which room she went into exactly—she did not, to my recollection, come into the front room where I was and stay there a quarter of an hour—I won't swear she did not—she was not on the premises half an hour after she had spoken to Miss Ives; I swear that—I don't know what time it was, she was there a very short time; I thought she would come back to my place and fetch the property and likewise the linen she had left at Porter's to be washed—when I heard that somebody had asked for Mrs. Thomas, I thought it might be a matter of rent—I thought I was speaking to Mrs. Thomas when I first saw the prisoner—Weston told me that Miss Ives was asking where Mrs. Thomas was; I did not then find that the prisoner was not Mrs. Thomas; I had no idea of it—I did not think it necessary to go and speak to her about it—I allowed her to go without making any attempt to stop her—she did not have some conversation with me after she had spoken to Miss Ives, I swear that, not to my recollection—I won't swear whether she came into the sitting-room or not, she might, I don't keep a diary of all these things, it is not likely that I keep them all in my head—she did not speak to me there about going to Ireland; Weston, Maryou, and Porter, were passing in and out—I swear that she was not engaged in conversation with me in the sitting-room for a quarter of an hour after Miss Ives had made the difficulty—I did not say that she had better go to her people and I would stop and brazen it out—I don't know on what day it was that I first heard of "The Barnes Mystery," I might have read it in the papers, I don't know when, I can't swear to any date—sometimes I don't read the papers every day—I might have heard of it; I might or I might not—I did hear of it; I can't say on what day—I had not heard of it before I went to Mr. Menhennick, not to my recollection—I heard something about a box being found with some remains in it; I think that was before I went to Mr. Menhennick—Eobert Porter came into my place on Sunday, the 23rd—he did not tell Porter and me about the box; I swear that—for a whole fortnight after the 9th I never heard from the boy Porter about his being on Richmond Bridge; he said nothing about the box till Sunday, the 23rd—I remember that date because three inspectors came to me on that day—Pearman came that day—he had not been before

—he saw me at the police-court on Saturday, the 22nd, and spoke to me—I had not seen him on the 16th; I swear that—I did not hear that he had been to my house on the 16th, or before the 23rd—I first saw him then, at my house—I first saw him on Saturday, the 22nd, at the police-office—I had never seen him before to my recollection—I don't recollect the date on which I heard a box was found at Barnes—I don't recollect hearing that on Tuesday, the 18th, an inquest was held on the contents of the box, which Dr. Adams said were human remains—I had heard about the Barnes mystery, but nothing more but what was in the papers—I heard there had been an inquest; I could not say about the date when I heard it—I might have heard that the bones were pronounced to be human bones, but I don't recollect it—I did hear about it; I don't know at what date; it might have been before or after the 19th—I must have had conversation with Porter before going to Mr. Menhennick—I saw Porter this morning—I don't think he was at my house last night after wo left the Court—I was not in his company yesterday evening after I left the Court, not for a single moment—I went to Porter's house before going to Mr. Menhennick—I had some conversation with him in his back room—I did not go to the police at once—I naturally thought the woman was coming back to fetch the things that were left at my place, and that I should have got my money back—Mr. Menhennick's was the only address I had to go to—I had not then heard of the missing Mrs. Thomas; not on the 21st—I did not hear of the missing Mrs. Thomas till afterwards, not till after I went to Mr. Menhennick; that I swear—I don't know why I did not go to Mr. Menhennick by myself; I suppose I had somebody for company—I had no secret conversation with Porter in his back room; the door was open, and the front door also; there was no secrecy—I don't know whether anybody else was there; I did not notice—I went to him simply because he was assisting removing the furniture, and he was the person who introduced me to Mrs. Thomas, and he could explain the circumstances—I said I should go to Mr. Menhennick, and would he come with me—I had no other reason for going to him—on Sunday, 2nd March, Porter was not at my house at half-past 11; I am quite sure of that—he was in my house that evening—I can't say whether he was away from 9 to half-past 11; I don't watch every customer that comes in—I am at home every Sunday evening; I never leave my wife to manage the business on Sunday evenings—I do sometimes on week-days; we will say often on week-days—I went to Sandown races on the 4th—I missed my name at the licensing—I was with a few friends at Kensington—I believe there is a printed list of the applications—I had not one handed to me; I might have seen one; the clerk would have it or the inspector—I had not seen one that day—the licensing begins at 10—it was between 12 and 1 when I found that my name had been called—I did not give the prisoner an open cheque for the furniture because she said she did not like paper money—I gave her notes; she could have got them changed at my bank next morning—perhaps she had an object for it.

Re-examined. A very large number of publicans attend the licensing meeting to have their licences renewed—it is the practice to call over the names in some order; if a man's name is missed he is put back to the next meeting; I found that my name was missed, and I knew I should have to attend at the next meeting, and finding that I went to Sandown—no one went with me to Sandown; I saw one or two down there—ex-Inspector Gill, of Hammersmith, went with me to the licensing; I met

him in Broadway, and we rode up on a bus to the vestry hall—when I went to Porter's on the Friday he just washed himself, and we went directly to Mr. Menhennick's—I first saw Inspector Pearman on Saturday, the 22nd; that was when I went down to Richmond with Mr. Hughes and Porter—the police had not been to my house before that to my recollection—on the following Monday, the 23rd, Inspectors Pearman, Shaw, and Jones came, and I gave them information—the earrings I bought were shown to me before the Magistrate in a box with the name of Wood on it—when I saw the prisoner after she had been to Miss Ives I did not make any arrangement with her about her leaving—it is false that I agreed to remain behind and brazen it out—I did not know up to the 21st where she had gone—up to the time when I went to Mr. Menhennick I was not in the least aware that anything wrong had taken place at No. 2, Vine Cottages, or that there was any other Mrs. Thomas but the prisoner—after going to Mr. Menhennick I gave every information in my power—I was examined by Mr. Valentine Brown at the police-court from half-past 10 in the morning till a quarter to 5, the whole day—I can read and write—I was put down as a clerk when I entered the army—when I left the army I got my certificates—I left with a good character, and have my certificates on both occasions—I went into two or three gentlemen's services afterwards, and left with a good character—before you can get a beer licence inquiries are made by the police—I have had my licence renewed every time—no complaints have been made against me during the nine years I have been in the house.

By the COURT. I do not recollect whether I was ever a barman; I might have been and forgotten it—I have not a very good memory—I have never been in confinement or anything of that sort—I was not particularly wild before I enlisted; like the rest of young men I went into the army I suppose—I was some time knocking about; I had not got into any scrape—I lived at different places before I went into the army—I enlisted in Soho Square in a regiment belonging to the old East India Company, in 1857—it was amalgamated with the regular army in 1858—my regiment was the 4th Bengal Cavalry—I changed from that to the 11th at the time they were amalgamated—a great number took their discharge and came over to England—I came back to England—I did not get any sunstroke in India—I then went into the 11th Hussars—Colonel Fraser, then captain, was the commander of the regiment—Captain Aberfield Garnet was my captain—I don't recollect whether I was ever a barman, I might have been—I was described as a clerk—they don't always give a right description of what you are, they put down nearly what, they like when you enlist—I did not tell them I had been a clerk; I told them I had come from Watford—I had lived there for a short time—I don't remember my father—my mother is living—the prisoner never told me that she was going to Ireland. I am quite sure of that, she always said Scotland—I won't say she said it more than once, she may have told me twice—I had not to my recollection anything to do with a public-house before I had this one, in any capacity, barman, potboy, or anything else—I don't know the school that I went to; I have been to school—we had a school in the army—I was at school a little before I went into the army.

By the JURY. I was between 19 and 20 when I enlisted—as far as I know I gave my true age when I enlisted.

MARIA CHURCH . I am the wife of the last witness—we have been

married eleven years, and have kept the Rising Sun nine years—on Sunday, 2nd March, my husband was at home all day; he opened the house at 6.5—he remained in the bar nearly all the evening—he was at home on the Monday all day—on Tuesday, the 4th, he came home at about 7 o'clock and brought some soles for tea—the first time I saw the prisoner was Sunday evening, 9th March, when she came with Porter about 8.30, who said "This is Mrs. Thomas"—I saw her again on the Monday morning, but had no conversation with her that day—she came to our place on Thursday, the 13th, and brought some of the plate in a basket; I put it upstairs in my bedroom—next day, Friday, the 14th, she brought some table-cloths, curtains, some chandeliers, and some mats, and said that they were to be left; she did not say till when—next day, Saturday, the 15th, she brought two glass vases and a carving-knife and fork, and said "These are for you"—on Sunday afternoon, the 16th, I went on the water with her in a boat, and my husband, my little girl, another little girl, and Mr. Porter, for about an hour—when we landed she came and had tea with me and then went away—on Monday, the 17th, she came about 11 a. m. and brought two pair of boots, and said that they hurt her feet, and if I could wear them I could have them—she stayed till about 12, till Church was ready—on Tuesday, the 18th, she came about 10 a.m., and waited till Church was ready to go to Richmond—a man named Merryman came about 11.30 to go with them—I saw her again that evening about 8.30; she came in through the bar and said "Will you lend me a sovereign?"—I took a half-sovereign out of my pocket and the rest I got from the till—she did not say what she wanted it for—I said "Is the van there?" she said "Yes, two"—there was a bonnet-box in the room; she picked it up and said "I shall take this with me, I am going to pack up all to-night;" she then left—she had no child with her—I think I should know the bonnet-box again—my husband came in alone about 9.30, and not long afterwards Weston brought some dresses in a bonnet-box or bandbox; this is it—I took the dresses up-stairs and put them on the club-room table, but did not examine them then; but on Friday, the 21st, I turned them over and felt in the apron pocket of the blue dress, and found this purse with a sort of diary inside, two pocket-handkerchiefs with J. Thomas on them, a pair of gloves, and this letter from Hamburgh Road, Finsbury Park, signed "E. Menhennick"—the purse contained these five rings, some stamps, a pencil, and a small comb—I took them all down to my husband and subsequently gave them to the police—I never was at the house at Richmond,—I only knew the prisoner as Mrs. Thomas.

Cross-examined. My husband sometimes goes out for a walk in the afternoon if we are slack—we work the business between us; if he is not there I am—he is never away three or four days at a time—he does not often go away from 2 or 3 p.m. till 11.30—I remember 9th March, because that was the first Sunday he went out, and also me—he was out from 3.30 to 6.30 p.m.; he told me he should go down to the water; he went to a boating party, but I did not go with him; I went out in the afternoon, and after I came home Porter brought the prisoner in, and I am sure that March 9th was the first time I saw her—it was not March 8th, because I know better; I went out on 9th March, but not on March 2nd—my husband was not at home on Thursday, 13th March; he went to Richmond that day; he started about 12 o'clock, and got home a little after 10 o'clock—he also went to

Richmond on the Wednesday with Porter, and got back between 10 and 11 o'clock—they told me they were going to buy some furniture—I did not hear him say that he came up from Richmond with the prisoner to the Thatched House, and left her there—he did not tell me when he came up whether he had been with Mrs. Thomas or not—on Tuesday the 11th he came home about 11.20, and told me he had been to Richmond with Mrs. Thomas—he did not tell me how long he had been there—on the Friday he went to Richmond again, and got back from 10 to 11 o'clock; it was not so late as 12 o'clock, but it was past 10 o'clock—I was not with him to see whether he was four or five hours with Mrs. Thomas—he did not tell me he had gone to a jeweller's at Richmond named Wood, and bought a pin or a ring, and she was to pay him back—I know nothing of that—he did not tell me that he drank brandy and smoked cigars with heron Friday, the 14th, she brought a great many articles for safe keeping, and for me—I believed her to be Mrs. Thomas; I knew no better—the basket of plate was brought down on Thursday—I remember my husband coming home from Richmond on Saturday night the 15th; he did not come in a cab to my knowledge—on that night a carving knife and fork and two glass vases were brought—I did not see Porter that night to my knowledge—when I asked the prisoner to tea I was not on more friendly terms with her than anybody else; I had been on the water with her—I had no meat sent by the prisoner from Richmond—I did not have a large piece of beef to my knowledge on Sunday the 16th for dinner—I do not know what I had—I never had any meat from Mrs. Thomas; she brought the boots and laid them on the sofa, and said "If you can wear these you can have them," and I took them—my husband said "I won't have the dresses," but I said "I will, she has had a sovereign from me"—I do not know his reason for refusing them—he had not told me what had passed at Richmond, but I knew there was something—he got home about 9.30, and Weston brought in the dresses soon afterwards, and placed them on the bar—it did not seem so long as two or two and a half hours afterwards—my husband had not told me that the furniture had been stopped, or that Mrs. Thomas had run away, but when he came home he seemed upset.

Re-examined. After Weston came I heard him and my husband talking about what had happened at Richmond, and I heard in between like—I learned the same night—the chandeliers were to the best of my knowledge blue, with a place for a chimneypiece, and a place for candles—my husband went to Richmond on 12th, 13th, and 14th, and he told me that he was going to Mrs. Thomas's to look at the furniture, as he thought he might buy it—when he came back I understood that he had been to Mrs. Thomas's—when I took in the dresses I was not aware that there was anything in the pockets.

HENRY WESTON . I live at 31, Lenthorn Road, Hammersmith, and am a greengrocer, and move furniture; I have known Church between 8 and 9 years—on Friday, 14th March, he came to my shop with the prisoner and Porter, and I arranged with them to go to Richmond and see some furniture and see how many vans it would require—Church called the prisoner Kate—I agreed to meet him at Richmond Station that afternoon, when I got there had to wait nearly an hour—Porter, Church, and the prisoner then came, and we took a cab and went to Vine Cottages—I looked at the furniture and agreed to remove it for 4l.—I left Church and the pi soner, and

Porter went with me to have a glass of ale—next day, Tuesday the 18th, I went down with two vans and got there before 7 o'clock; Maryon was there, but he had nothing to do with me—some things were brought out of the house and put into one of the vans—Miss Ives spoke to me in the garden at the front door of No. 2, and wanted to know where the furniture was going to be taken to—I told her I did not know exactly, and said, "There is the lady at the door," pointing to the prisoner and Church—the prisoner went on and spoke to Miss Ives, who went back into the room—Church then said, "There is something wrong, we had better fetch the goods back out of the van," and that she had led him astray, or something to that effect, and he would not have anything to do with it—I had been paid 10s. as a deposit on the 14th, and Church made it up 2l.—the things were taken back into the house, and the prisoner brought some dresses out on her arm and threw them into the van and said, "Take them home, I am off to the station"—that was ten minutes or a quarter of a hour after she came from Miss Ives—I think she also brought out a bandbox, similar to this, but I won't be sure—she said, "Give me that black dress back," it was taken out of the van and she took it away with her and went towards the station—that was the last I saw of her—she was alone—I did not notice whether she had a bonnet on—I was in a covered van and could not see where Church was—the goods were put back, the house was shut up, and we moved off with the vans—there were three men who I took with me, and Marion, Porter, and Church—we all went away together, ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after the prisoner left; and went to a public-house round the corner and had some drink—I heard that Church, Porter, and Marion, went back by train and we went by van—when we got home I took the dresses and the band-box out of the van at Church's and put them on a form, and Church told me to take them to No. 10—that is Porter's, but I left them at Church's.

Cross-examined. They came to me on the 14th, between 12 and 1 o'clock; they seemed on very friendly terms—he said "What shall be done, Kate?" and she said "Whatever you like, Jack"—Porter was with them, and said that he had bought the furniture, but he did not say he had bought it of the prisoner—I never heard her referred to as Mrs. Thomas or as the lady of the house—I knew Church, and knew that she was not his wife—while the things were being put into the van on the 18th Porter helped the men, and Church and the prisoner were sitting in the front room talking—Church said that part of the things were going to his house, he did not tell me where the other part was going—when I had got them in the van I was going to wait for directions—I do not know whether Church or Kate spoke to Miss Ives first, but Kate came back into the house and was there 10 minutes or a quarter of an hour before she came out with the dresses—Church had gone into the front sitting-room, and if he had wanted to stop her going away he had plenty of time—she would have to pass the door of the room where he was sitting—I will not swear whether Church was in the front sitting-room or in the street when she gave me the dresses, because I was in the shut-up van and could not look through it—I said at the police-court that Church was in the front sitting-room to the best of my belief.

Re-examined. The dresses were put into the van while I was actually standing in it; I do not recollect whether the furniture had been taken out—one dress was given back to her and the others were left—I understood

Church that he was buying the furniture, and part of it was to go to his house—I did not know whether the prisoner was the lady of the house, but I heard her say that it was her furniture when I went to see how much there was to remove—she was the only person there besides Porter and Church.

JOHN MARION . I am a wheelwright, of 39, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—on Tuesday morning, 18th March, Church came to me, and I went over to his house, and saw Mrs. Church and the prisoner—I went to Richmond that morning with Church and the prisoner—we went to 2, Vine Cottages, about 11 o'clock, and I was set to work taking down the bedsteads and packing up sundry things which Church had bought, till dinner-time—after dinner Henry Porter came down—I continued my work till Weston's two vans came, but did not see what took place at the vans, as I was in the kitchen packing up the crockery—I did not see the prisoner go; the last time I saw her she was at the gate, before the things were brought back into the house—she had something on her head; I do not know whether to call it a bonnet or a hat—after the things were brought back I left the house with Weston and his three men and Church and Porter—the prisoner was not there then—we went to a public-house and had some five-half—I did not hear any one inquire where the prisoner was.

JOSEPH SMITH . I live at King Street, Hammersmith—on 18th March I went to Richmond with Weston in the vans—I saw the prisoner there, and she asked Church for a shilling or two to pay a bill, and I saw a tradesman waiting—Church gave her some money; she paid the tradesman, and he left—I saw Miss Ives—the furniture was not taken back into the house before the dresses were put into the van—the prisoner brought them out of the house, put them into the van, and then took some back, and said to herself or to some of us that she was off to the railway—I saw no more of her—I was in the van—I saw a bonnet-box in the van, but did not see who brought it out—after the furniture had been put back into the house, Weston and I went with the vans to a public-house close by—we left not more than a quarter of an hour after her, and a man was sent back for Church's coat, but the house was shut up—I went with the vans to Hammersmith.

Cross-examined. I did not see what money Church gave the prisoner to pay the bill—Church, Webster, and I were all in the front sitting-room together.

FREDERICK BOLTON . I am a cabdriver, of Linie Cottage, Richmond Road—I know Church by sight—on Thursday, 13th March, I took him up in the station yard with the prisoner and Weston, and drove them first to a house in Duke Street, and then on to Mayfield Cottages—on 15th March I drove Church, Porter and his wife, the boy Porter, and an infant—Thursday and Friday were the two days—I am sure it was two following days—I did not drive him on Saturday or Sunday—on Monday, the 17th, I took the prisoner and Church up at the station, drove them to the Grapes in Duke Street, and then to Mayfield—we went to a jeweller's on the way—on Tuesday, the 18th, I was in the station-yard between 8 and 9 p.m.; the prisoner came to me; I think she had a kind of bundle or parcel in her hand—she said "I think you have driven me before; will you drive me to Hammersmith?"—I said "Yes"—she said she would tell me whereabouts; it was called Rose Gardens, but I did not know it—at a little after 9 o'clock she pulled me up at the corner of Rose Gardens, and said she would not be many minutes gone—she was away ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—she came back with another small bandbox and another bundle, and a child

carried by the boy Porter—she got in and told me to drive to the station—when I got there she said "This is not the right one; go to the other one; it leads up some steps"—I did so—she asked me to follow her with the bandbox and bundle, which I did—she carried the child—she got into a King's Cross train, as I saw on it—she paid me on the platform, and that was the last I saw of her.

Cross-examined. The name of Bonny is up at the Grapes; that is not Hartley's—I have not been to Hartley's with them—you do not pass the Grapes to go to Vine Cottages, but you pass the street it is in; you can pass Hartley's on the way; there are two ways—Hartley's is on the Kew Road facing the old station, about a quarter of a mile from Richmond Bridge—Weston was with the prisoner and Church on the 13th; they were not alone—four grown-up persons were conveyed on the Thursday, and Robert Porter and a child about 5 years old—I drove the whole party to Hammersmith on the 14th, to the Thatched House; I believe Church paid—there were two women—I do not know whether Mrs. Church was one, as it was dark—I never saw her till the trial—on Monday, 17th, they were alone; they seemed friendly together—I did not know who Church was—the 13th was the first time I saw him—it did not strike me that they were man and wife—Church did not pay each time except the 18th—I did not see them go into Vine Cottages on the 17th—I put them down at the corner of Park Road, and they walked 20 yards; they did not drive up to the door, but within a few yards—I heard a voice inside say "Stop here," but I do not remember who.

GEORGE BRODIE WHEELER . I am a grocer at Richmond—on 7th March, in consequence of orders given, I sent some goods to 2, Mayfield—in consequence of something I heard I went there on 18th March—I saw two of Mr. Weston's vans at the door—I saw the prisoner and said "My name is Wheeler, ma'am; I have called for my account"—she said "Come in; I'll pay you"—when I got inside she asked me if I had a stamp—I said "No, I can soon procure one"—I left and came back with one—I receipted and stamped the bill and she gave me 2l. 2s. from a purse in her pocket—the amount being 2l. 2s. 6d.; I said "It is sixpence more, ma'am"—she went into the front room and came back and gave me sixpence—I did not see where she got it from—her manner seemed rather flurried.

Cross-examined. That was the first time I had seen her—I was standing in the hall when she took out the amount, sixpence short—she went into the front sitting room and came out with the requisite change—I do not know whether Church was tehre.

LUCY MARIA LODER . I live at No. 2, The Crescent, Richmond—my father is a builder—I have known a Mrs. Crease there four years—I know the prisoner by sight—I knew her first in January when she lived at Mrs. Crease's out of a situation and did charing—I had known Mrs. Thomas since October, and that she wanted a servant, and spoke to her in January about the prisoner, who went into her service on a Wednesday, about the end of January—on March 8th, a Saturday, I called at Mrs. Thomas's between 4 and 5 o'clock—the prisoner opened the door—I asked "Is Mrs. Thomas at home?"—she said "Mrs. Thomas has gone out"—she asked me to walk in—I declined—she said Mrs. Thomas would not be gone long; she would only be gone for a few minutes—she said "I am going to leave, and mistress knows I am going; she has gone now to look for some one in my

place—she said "I'm going to my aunt in Glasgow, an aunt very well to do, and I am going to live with her in Glasgow"—I said I thought it was the best thing she could do—I knew she had a little boy; she said she was going to take him with her—I said I knew Mrs. Crease could not afford to keep him—I told her to be sure and tell Mrs. Thomas I had called—she said she would do so—I then left.

Cross-examined. She was a very obliging girl and did her work well—I only called twice at Mrs. Thomas's while she was there—she said that Mrs. Thomas was a very good living woman—as far as I saw there was no animosity between her and Mrs. Thomas.

SARAH CREASE . I am the wife of Charles Crease, of 3, Mitchell Road, Richmond—I have known the prisoner three and a half years—she came to stay with me on January 13th with a little boy—she continued to live with me till January 29th, when she went to Mrs. Thomas, and I took care of her boy—on Saturday, March 8th, the prisoner came to me to pay me 3s. for minding the little boy—she went away and came back between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon with the boy, and said she was going back to her place; she was going to Glostow in the evening—on March 8th her boxes went away from my house in the evening—she said she was going to take the little boy away from me on 12th March—she said the boxes were going to her place—they were taken away on a barrow by a boy named Gregory—my house is about a mile and a half from Vine Cottages—on Wednesday, March 12th, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I saw the prisoner; she said she was going to take the child away to be taken to Glostow by a cousin of hers who was going to Glostow—she took the little boy away between 1 and 2 o'clock and called with him where I work about 4 o'clock, for me to wish him good-bye—I asked what time she was going off—she said by the 11 o'clock train from King's Cross—I kissed the boy and told her to take care of him and did not see her again.

Cross-examined. She has always been a kind-hearted, good sort of girl, as far as I know, and affectionate and grateful for kindnesses done to her—my husband had an illness for four months, during which she nursed him and waited on him all day, and did all she could for him—she was then in a situation at Mr. Mitchell's, and came backwards and forwards simply for the purpose of being kind to my husband and bringing him things—she was fond of me and very fond of the child—I never heard her say or do anything unkind to anybody—she came to my house every Sunday night but one to see her child—I cannot recollect what Sunday that was—it was on Saturday, 8th March, that she came and said she was going to take the child away on the 12th, and I noticed that she did not come to see her child next day, Sunday, the 9th—I cannot recollect that she stayed away any other Sunday—she stayed away one very wet Sunday—I cannot remember whether she came on the Sunday before the 9th—she was never away two Sundays running—she told me that Mrs. Thomas was a very nice lady, very kind and good-hearted—she appeared very fond of her as a mistress.

Re-examined. She had to get back to her place on Sundays sometimes at at 6.30, sometimes at 7, for the lady to go to church or chapel—she had not told me before 8th March that she was going to leave Mrs. Thomas.

HARRY GEORGE PENNY . I am manager to Mr. Niblett, of Hammersmith—on Friday, 7th March, a man brought a gold plate, with two teeth on each side of it, for sale—I gave him 6s. for it.

Cross-examined. I imagine it had been worn, but I am not a dentist.

GEORGE HENRY RUDD . I am a surgeon-dentist, of Richmond—Mrs. Thomas, of Vine Cottages, came to me on 22nd February—I knew her before—I made a cast of her mouth—this plate would fit her lower jaw—she was not wearing it when she came to me—she complained that it hurt her, and I made another cast—I saw her again on Saturday, 26th, and on March 1, but not afterwards—I wrote to her, and the letter was returned through the Dead Letter Office.

HENRY WIGLEY . I live at the Old George, Mortlake—I saw a box in the Thames about 6.45 a.m. on Wednesday, March 5, on the lower side of Barnes Railway Bridge—the tide was just ebbing from the top of it—it was half afloat—it had a cord twice round it, across—I kicked it, and broke it to pieces—the handle was off, I believe—I went to the station and fetched somebody, leaving a man named Kennison in charge of it, but while I was away they called a policeman, to whom they gave it—before I went I saw a lot of what looked like cooked meat in it—it was quite full.

Saturday, July 5th.

THOMAS CHILDS (Police Sergeant V 5). On Wednesday, 5th March, about 6.45 in the morning, I was at Barnes; I saw the witness Wheatley by the riverside, and saw a box on the shore—this (produced) is the box—there was no cord on it at that time; I saw the cord—the box was broken; it appeared to contain human remains—I called Dr. Adams, who looked at it, and I then conveyed it to the mortuary at Barnes—I acted as Coroner's officer, and communicated with the Coroner—Mr. Bond, the surgeon, afterwards came to the mortuary, and there saw the box and the remains—the mortuary is kept locked, and the key is kept at the police-station—the inquest was first held on 10th March, and the witness Wheatley and Dr. Adams were examined; it was then adjourned to the 18th—Mr. Bond was then examined—I saw a foot at the mortuary; I did not see who brought it—I saw it there a few days after the first inquest—Mr. Bond examined it there.

GEORGE WILLIAM COURT . I am servant to Mr. Alfred Clark, of Church Street, Twickenham—on the morning of the 10th of March I was on the allotment ground at Copthall, rented by my master—it is bounded by two roads, and a pathway leads through it; a heap of dung was there for some time—I was wheeling dung from the heap—I dug a foot and ankle out of the dung—it had been sawn off recently—the heap was some 10 yards from one footpath, and about two from another; I covered it over again—ultimately I took it to Dr. Clark's surgery and showed it to Mr. Cameron, who showed it to Dr. Clark, and then I took it to the police-station, and gave it to the sergeant on duty—this was on Tuesday, the 11th, and on the same day I took it to the mortuary at Twickenham and left it there.

EDWARD SHAW (Police Inspector V). I went on March 12th to the mortuary at Twickenham and saw a human foot, which I placed with the other human remains—on March 26th I received from Inspector Pearman a carpet-bag, which contained a chopper, flannel petticoat, chemise, part of a night-dress, a linen cuff, two pieces of flannel, a small lantern, a razor, some buttons, and some burnt bones, which were in a tin box—I took the bag to 17, Delahay Street, Westminster, the house of Mr. Bond.

EDITH MENHENNICK . I am 13 years old; I live at 45, Ambler Road, Finsbury Park, with my parents—I knew Mrs. Thomas as a friend, and have

stayed with her—I went at the end of September, and stayed there about four months—she had no servant—I saw a box at Mrs. Thomas's—the box produced is that which I saw; it was kept in the room at the top of the stairs, the room I slept in—I saw it daily—two bonnets were kept in it—Mrs. Thomas's best bonnet and another bonnet—the bonnet now produced is Mrs. Thomas's best bonnet—I opened the door for the prisoner once when I was with Mrs. Thomas—the prisoner came to live with Mrs. Thomas the same day I left—she was to come at 5 o'clock; she had not come when I left.

CHARLES EDWARD MENHENNICK . I live at 45, Ambler Street, Finsbury Park—I had known Mrs. Thomas 10 years as a friend—on January 11 I last saw her at 2, Vine Cottages—on Friday, March 21,1 remember the witnesses John Church and Henry Porter coming to my house in the evening—Church showed me a letter, in my wife's writing, to Mrs. Thomas—Church made a communication to me—they were with me more than an hour—Church left his name and address—I communicated next morning with Mr. Hughes, Mrs. Thomas's solicitor—the photograph produced is that of Mrs. Thomas—she was about 5ft 3in. in height.

Cross-examined. In the course of conversation Church said he had paid the woman 18l. against some plate and other things which she had given him and which were then at his own house—Church said he had been at the house two or three times, not that he had sat smoking and drinking there day after day—he told me that this woman was missing—he did not mention a box being found with bones in it in the river—Mrs. Thomas was an amiable, good-natured sort of lady—she was about 55 or 56 years of age—she was not stout; she was animated in her manner, and appeared reasonably strong—she was not an invalid; she was an ordinary person.

Re-examined. She played the piano very well—after Church had told me why he came I put two or three questions to him, which he answered—I made no note of the conversation—he mentioned the rings, and how the letter was found—they came between 8 and 9—Church asked my wife, who went to them, if she knew Mrs. Thomas at Richmond—I went out and told her to find out first why he asked—he said it was something very important—I told him to come in—he said his wife had found a letter in the pocket of a dress in his house; that a week before that Porter had introduced a woman, who said she was Mrs. Thomas, living at Richmond—she said she had some furniture to sell, and asked if he would buy it—he had gone down to see it, and she had told him that her father, a solicitor in Scotland, had told her to sell the things and come to him, she showed him her father's photograph, it was agreed he should go in the evening of the 18th, about 6, to take the furniture away, while removing it a lady came out and spoke to the supposed Mrs. Thomas, Church said he did not hear what passed, after this the woman threw two dresses in the van and went away, he said "Take those dresses back; there is something wrong; I'll have nothing to do with them"—Porter and I went back to Hammersmith by rail; this woman had been there and borrowed a sovereign of my wife and gone away; since then I have not seen her; I paid 18l. on account, and she gave me some plate and other articles as security; in a purse in a pocket of the dress were five rings"—I asked what sort of a woman this Mrs. Thomas was—he said she was a big, tall woman, and spoke with a strong Irish accent—I said that was not like Mrs. Thomas—I asked why he

did not give the property to the police—he said he thought the Woman would be back, and if the plate got into the hands of the police there might be a difficulty in recovering it—he said she showed him a bank-book and a building society book—I told him I should go next morning to Mr. Hughes and another friend, Mr. Phillips, of the Permanent Building Society—I had thought up to then that Mrs. Thomas was living at Richmond.

By the COURT. I was cross-examined by Counsel for Church when before the Magistrates—I said I was not sure, nor am I now sure, of the words he used about the plate and other things, only the substance—he was to buy the furniture; the 18l. was paid in respect of the whole transaction, but as he had not got the furniture, she, by way of security, gave him the plate—he said the woman had sent some linen to Mrs. Porter's house to wash.

WILLIAM HENRY HUGHES . I live at 12, Chapel Street, Bedford Row, and am a solicitor—my brother is executor of Julia Martha Thomas—I have known her over 30 years—she first married a Mr. James Murray—Mr. Thomas died in 1873—on Saturday, March 22nd, my brother was ill, and I, at his request, went to Hammersmith between 3 and 4 p.m.—I saw Church—he showed me a purse—it contained five rings wrapped up in wool, two wedding-rings, a keeper, a mourning ring, and a dress ring of some sort with name and date engraved on it—these are the rings—I asked Church a number of questions with reference to Mrs. Thomas, and he gave me information—I expressed a wish to see Porter, and Church sent for him—I asked him questions and got information from him, and the three of us went to Richmond Police-station, and then to 2, May field—it was 5 o'clock when we got to the house—we got through Miss Ives's house and made an entry—I saw Church find in the closet in the front room a gold watch and chain, at least he said he found it, he produced it; he had his back to me—he made some remark about a large photograph, which I recognised as a photograph of my father—it was not in an album—I believe Miss Ives came in—Church and Porter gave their answers to me very frankly.

Cross-examined. Porter told me that Mrs. Thomas had said to him her father was a solicitor in Scotland—according to Porter's account, she was going to Scotland—I am certain Porter said Scotland, not Ireland—he said at first that she went away in a cab; but when I questioned him he said he did not see her go—when we got into the front room, Church went straight to the cupboard and immediately turned round and said, "Here's her gold watch and chain"—the first thing he did was to go to the cupboard—when I was talking to Church in his own house he told me the portrait of the father, was in the hall—I did not see it in the hall—I said to him, "There is the photograph"—he went and moved the palliasse away and stood in front of the cupboard, blocking up the view, and said, "Here's her watch and chain"—I was not in a position to see whether he took the watch and chain out of the cupboard or out of his pocket—the police inspector and I had only casually looked at the cupboard—the palliasse did not hide the cupboard entirely—Porter said the woman stayed a long while, several hours, at his house when she first came.

JOHN DOWDELL . I am a police inspector, attached to Scotland Yard—in consequence of information I went to Ireland, leaving London on the 26 th—on the 28th I got to Dublin—I met Inspector. Jones there and went with him to Wexford and then back to Enniscorthy, which we reached on the night of

the 29th—we there saw the prisoner—she was in custody there—I told her we were two police officers from London; that she would be charged with murdering Mrs. Julia Martha Thomas, her late mistress, at 2, Vine Cottages, Richmond; she would be further charged with stealing furniture and other property; and she would be taken back to London—she made no reply—she was taken before a Magistrate the same evening, and remanded back to this country—we stalled to return the following morning—on the journey from Enniscorthy to Dublin, shortly after leaving Enniscorthy, the prisoner said, "Is there any person in custody for the murder?"—I said "It depends whether I can answer that question or not," or words to that effect—she said, "If there's not there ought to be. It is very hard the innocent should suffer for the guilty"—I had previously cautioned her not to make any statement without considering the whole thing; and I also said, "I hope you will not say a word against an innocent person"—I said that before she said a word about any other person—the night before I said that she said she intended to tell the truth and the truth only—on the steamboat between Dublin and Holyhead she made a very long statement—it was a continuous statement—she stopped sometimes because she was not very well, she was inclined to be sea sick—it was all one statement—I did not take it down as she said it—it was very rough on board—at the police station at Richmond, on 30th March, I repeated her statement verbally in her presence to Inspectors Jones and Pearman, and it was then taken down by Jones as I repeated it—then Church was called in—he was not then in custody—the statement was read over to him and the prisoner—she said it was true—during the writing down the prisoner said she wished to make some addition, which was not then taken down, but afterwards it was—at the end of the reading Webster said, "That is quite true"—Church seemed to be laughing at it—I told him to be careful, I thought it was a serious case—he said, "The lying woman, how can she say that about me? I know nothing of her"—when Church was brought in first he was introduced to identify the prisoner—he said, "I think that's Mrs. Thomas"—Church at the end of the interview was given into custody—in consequence of a letter I received I went on the 15th of April with Inspector Jones to the House of Detention—Mr. O'Brien, the prisoner's solicitor, was there with the prisoner—she made a long statement, after being cautioned, which was taken down by Inspector Jones from her lips, word for word.

Cross-examined. She was given into my custody by a member of the I rish constabulary named Roach—she had not been charged as far as I know—I repeated the charge to her—she was very calm; she was also very calm on the voyage except when she was sick—she was never out of my sight—she made a very good supper on the steamboat—she appeared an amiable, pleasant sort of woman as far as I could judge—she gave no trouble, and came back quite quietly and calmly—I have made inquiries about the dates and facts contained in her statements, apart from the night of 2nd March—I went to Hartley's with Mr. Pear—man, and he made inquiries there.

JOHN PEARMAN (Police Inspector V). I am stationed at Richmond—I was at the station there on Sunday, 30th March, when the statement taken by Inspector Jones was read over to the prisoner—I was there when Church came in and when the second statement was made—she said both statements were quite true—when I made the charge against Church he made a statement in

the prisoner's presence—he said "I was not in Richmond at the time; Porter and his son can prove I was not there; so can the baker next door; Porter will tell you what day he took me down there"—on Saturday, March 22, I went with Mr. Hughes, Porter, and Church to search the house at Richmond—Mr. Hughes when I saw him referred me to Church for information, and I received a statement from him—at the station Church produced the puree and rings, and made a statement as to his possession of them—at 2, Mayfield, the place was in great confusion, the beds moved out, and the carpets taken up—I found three large boxes full of bed linen ready to be taken away—this was about 6 o'clock; it was getting dark—I saw the gold watch and chain after we had been there some time—in consequence of something said by Mr. Hughes to Church, Church went to the cupboard, and then, having opened the door, said, "Oh, here's Mrs. Thomas's watch left behind"—we did not make a complete search then; we were there about an hour—next day I saw Church at his own house; Porter's boy was sent for, and Church showed me the property he had, including the rings and puree already produced—I made a list—there was an address card of Mrs. Thomas in the puree—on Monday, April 24, I went to 2, Mayfield Cottages, again—I searched the ashes under the kitchen grate and found a quantity of charred bones, dress buttons, and two pieces of house flannel—on the dresser I found a hand lantern—in the back room was a carpet-bag and some underlinen—in the coal cellar on the basement I found a chopper—in the room next to the scullery I found a razor—in the area I found a night-dress which appeared to be torn—I put these things into a carpet-bag and took them to the station, and on the 26th of April I gave them to Inspector Shaw—on the 27th I went again and found a quantity of charred bones under the copper grate—the outside of the copper, the brickwork, was well whitened over and clean; the whitening was in a dish on the dresser—I took out the copper from the brickwork, and about halfway down I found a fatty substance, which I scraped off and placed in a small earthen pot—the copper is 14 inches in diameter, 13 inches deep—there was a short copper-stick found outside in the area—I found a table-knife on the table in the kitchen—the next day I took these things and gave them to Mr. Bond myself—I found no black bag or saw—I examined the wainscot of the back bedroom, and found a smear of blood about 4 feet from the back window—I chipped the wood off on which the blood was and gave it to Mr. Bond—on the paper of the wall on the staircase leading from the hall to the kitchen I found what appeared to be a splash of blood—that was opposite the second stair, about 12in. above it—I cut out the paper with the stain, and gave it with the other to Mr. Bond—in the pantry under the hall I found some stains of blood on the wall—the jamb of the door of the pantry appeared to be stained with blood, but had apparently been rubbed over with something—in the dining-room I found a small diary—I found under the sink in the scullery the handle of a box, which I produce; it fits the bonnet-box found in the Thames—I found some cord there too—it is of the same kind as that with which the box was tied—I found a piece of brown paper on the landing, which I produce; it has a stain on it—I received the bonnet produced from Church on the 25th of March—I had seen it on the 23rd—I took it to the station, and afterwards to Mr. Bond.

Cross-examined. On my second visit, after receiving the key of the front

door, I put it in the lock inside, and it worked properly for aught I could see; I saw nothing amiss with it—I have passed in and out of the front door, but not to leave that way; I invariably went out by the back door—I tried the lock of the front door several times, and apparently it worked well inside—the latch-key was hanging up inside.

HENRY JONES . I am inspector of Metropolitan Police—I went over to Ireland to bring back the prisoner—a box was handed over to me by one of the Irish constables; it was locked, and the key was given to me—I noticed the prisoner was wearing three rings—I took a wedding-ring off her finger—I saw her wearing a coloured skirt, which was afterwards shown to Mrs. Kent—I went to Church's on the 30th, and found a rough list and a receipt referred to by him in his evidence—Mrs. Church gave me two vases, a knife and fork, two pairs of women's boots, and some lustres—I took down the prisoner's statement in her presence, from Dowdell's dictation—on the 16th of April she made a statement in the presence of her solicitor, which I took down—when it was finished she said it was quite correct, and that she did not like to say anything about or against Porter before.

Cross-examined. Mr. O'Brien, the prisoner's solicitor, said, "It is a very serious matter; you must tell the whole truth, as I believe you have told me; it may have the effect of bringing Porter to justice"—I then cautioned her, and Mr. O'Brien left—she gave the statement without any hints or assistance from him.

Re-examined. Henry Porter on the 16th of April had not been examined, nor his wife—the boy Porter had been.

MARY ANN KENT . I am a widow, residing at St. Mary's Villas, Richmond—I had known Mrs. Thomas thirty years, and was related to her by marriage—between March, 1877, and April, 1873, she lodged with me—I saw her again in the month of September, 1878—she used to wear a wedding ring and two keepers—I know the deal box produced—I feel certain it was Mrs. Thomas's—she had it while she lodged with me—she used to keep her bonnets and hats in it—I tried to pack her family Bible in it when going to Devonshire, and the handle would always slip out—the bonnet produced is Mrs. Thomas's bonnet; I remember her purchasing it, and she and I had part of the same ribbon—I have altered it myself for her—I recognise all the articles shown me by Pearman and Jones as Mrs. Thomas's—she was about 54 years of age.

Cross-examined. She told me when she was going to leave me; I was at home when she left—I know this box well, it is like an old friend.

EMILY HOARE . I am the wife of Frederick Hoare, of 3, Charlotte Cottages, Richmond—I used to do needlework for Mrs. Thomas—I identify this skirt which I made for her some time last year.

HENRY JONES (Recalled). The prisoner was wearing this when apprehended.

EMMA CLARK . I lodge with Mrs. Porter—I know the prisoner by sight—I first saw her on Tuesday, the 4th of March, when I opened the door to her—she asked for Mrs. Porter—Mrs. Porter asked me to deny her—the prisoner then went next door—Mrs. Porter, however, sent for her—the prisoner hugged Mrs. Porter round the neck, and said "It is me, don't you know me, mother?"—I then left—I saw them again—my little girl was sent for half a pint of gin—I remember Mrs. Porter telling the prisoner it was her son William's birthday.

Cross-examined. The night before last I got notice to come and give evidence here—I have not spoken to Mrs. Porter—I recollect the prisoner slept at the Porters' very often between the 4th and the 18th March—I had some of the gin—Mrs. Porter did not behave as though Kate was a stranger—Mrs. Porter was jolly enough; I don't know if she was glad—they met like old friends, as if they had known each other for some time—I don't remember seeing the prisoner before this.

BENJAMIN WOODS . I am a valuer—I went to look at 2, Mayfield, and valued the furniture there; it was worth 93l.—the silver things at the police-station were worth about 5l., the plated about 3l. or 4l., the rings about 2l.

THOMAS GOODRIDGE . I live at 13, Embury Road, Shepherd's Bush, and am a house decorator—Henry Porter worked for me—on the 2nd of March, 1879, I paid him 10s.—I met him outside the Rising Sun about 10 o'clock in the evening—I first saw him that evening about 9 o'clock—I went with him to the Rising Sun, and remained there till about 10 o'clock—Mr. Church was there and Mr. Thurlow—Church was there when I left with Henry Porter and Thurlow—after we left the Rising Sun at 10 o'clock, Porter and I went to the Swakeley public-house, in Gold Hawk Road, and stayed till 12 o'clock that night—we left Thurlow outside the Swakeley, and he went towards home.

Cross-examined. I am not a member of the Slate Club—I was not called at the police-court—I was first asked to give evidence on Thursday evening—I very seldom use Church's house—I have not spoken to Porter on several occasions since the 2nd March, I have not seen him for the last six weeks till yesterday morning—I may have seen him three or four times before that, when he has come to work for me—he works for me overtime of an evening and on Saturday afternoons—he has done several jobs for me—he may have worked overtime for me in the week beginning on 3rd March; I cannot recollect—I know one evening he put a stove in for me, that was between the 2nd and 12th March, I don't recollect the day—I gave him the order cm the 2nd—I can swear it was not in February, because the roof was not finished till the end of February, and the stove was put in after the roof was done—I paid him the 10s. on 2nd March, and the stove was not put in till afterwards; he was to do it at his discretion—I am quite sure it was not on Sunday, the 9th, that I paid him the 10s.—I know it was the 2nd, because I was out a good bit later that evening than usual.

Re-examined. I have a book here by which I can refresh my memory as to the date—I have put down here "Paid Porter 15 hours, 8d. an hour, 10s.," and on the 16th, "Porter 3 hours, settled"—that was for the stove—I settled with Porter for that on 16th March.

ELIZA JANE MUNT . I live with my husband at 16, Rose Gardens, and have a sister named Elizabeth Dupuis; she and her husband came to take tea with me on the Sunday before the club night, that was the 2nd of March—my husband and Mr. Dupuis went out after tea, and after about half an hour my sister and I wont out; we went into the Rising Sun—my husband and Mr. Dupuis were there talking to Mr. Church, who was behind the bar—we remained there till about 9 o'clock—Mr. Church was there all the time—on Monday, 3rd March, my sister came to me about 8.30 p.m.—we went to Church's to pay the club money for our husbands; we got there about 8.45—we paid Mrs. Church—we didn't see Mr. Church.

Cross-examined. My husband came home from work about 7.30 p.m. on,

the 3rd of March the worse for liquor, and he went to bed—it might have been 7 o'clock—my husband was not the worse for liquor on the Sunday night—we had tea about 5 o'clock; our tea was over in about half to three-quarters of an hour—my husband left the Rising Sun about 9 o'clock—we went up to the station to see Mr. Dupuis off—my husband went back to Church's, and stayed till 11 o'clock—I came home—my husband goes in there as a rule on Sunday evenings.

THOMAS MUNT . I am a brickmaker, and live at 16, Rose Gardens—I am a member of the Oak Slate Club; I remember the club night in March; I did not go to the club that night—I went to the house, but I did not go up into the club room—I could not say exactly what time I went to the house—we have not to pay our club money every club night, only once a quarter—a quarter's money was due from me that night—my missis paid it—I did not see her pay it; she told me—we have a card—I came home from work that night, and went to bed—I can't say why I went to bed; I know my missis went and paid the club; that is all I know—I had been to the Rising Sun before I went home; I could not say what time I went there, or how long I stayed; I know it was about" 8.30 when I left there—I saw Church there—on the Sunday night before club night I was at the Rising Sun; I got there at 6.5, and remained there till 8 o'clock—I then went up to the Railway Tavern, Shepherd's Bush—I went along with my friend Mr. Dupuis, Mrs. Dupuis, and my wife; we went along with them about an hour, or it might be an hour and a quarter, and then I came back again to Church's—he was there when I went in, and when I left—I might have stayed there half an hour, or a little more.

Cross-examined. On the Monday night I was not so bad from having too much to drink that I was obliged to go to bed; I never drank anything to make me bad.

JEAN BAPTISTS DUPUIS . I am a cabinet maker of 35, Manchester Street, Latimer Road, Notting Hill—Thomas Munt married my sister—on 2nd March I went to the Rising Sun with him; before that I went and had a cup of tea with him—it was about ten minutes past six when we got to the Rising Sun; I saw Porter and a female—Mrs. Porter and two ladies came in afterwards—I don't know their names—Church was there opening the door as we went in—I stopped there about two and a half hours—I then left—Church was there the whole time and when I left; I know that because I spoke to him and he to me.

Cross-examined. Only my wife, her sister, and her husband, and myself were at tea—Mr. Webb met us at the beershop—we went home from Shepherd's Bush Station at half-past nine—I was first spoken to about this about three weeks afterwards—Mrs. Church's brother asked my brother if he recollected being at Church's on Sunday, 2nd March, and he said yes; and he asked where I lived and they came to me together to talk the matter over—he asked me if I recollected being at tea at Hunt's and being at the Rising Sun, and seeing Church there—he did not ask me the time I left—I knew at that time that Church was in custody—Mrs. Munt did not say anything to me about it—I have heard and read about the Richmond murder—I don't remember Mrs. Munt speaking about it.

Re-examined. I believe it was between four and five on 30th March that Mr. Church's brother and Munt came to me—I then remembered very well that it was on 2nd March that I had been to the Rising Sun.

DAVID KUSS . I am a member of the firm of Camerer, Kuss, and Co., watch and clock makers, 522, Oxford Street—I know John Church—I was at the Rising Sun on Monday, 3rd March—I fix the date because on Monday, 24th February, he gave me an order for a ring and I had not got it in stock—I have an entry in my book in my own writing of that order——on the following Monday, about seven p.m., I went down to Church again, and saw him in his house serving customers—I remained with him about five minutes and had some conversation with him about it—I had a glass of wine and I sent a glass of beer to my boy outside.

Cross-examined. This is my book—here is "Church, Rose Gardens"—there is no date in the book after Thursday, February 25—I got the order for the ring on the 24th—a new book commenced on March 1st—this fixes. My memory because I was certain to go on the Monday following—I have no book for the entry of the delivery of the order I received—this is the book in which I enter the days on which I call on people about orders—I have not looked at the other book, it is at home. (The witness was directed to bring it on Monday.) There is no entry of Church's name in it—I take orders for goods and take weekly payments—I make an entry of those weekly payments—that is the tally system.

Re-examined. The ring was delivered a fortnight afterwards—the entry of the 24th is the order, and the next week I went down to the same place—that is my district on Mondays.

GEORGE HARRIS . I am a labourer of 27, Buchanan Cottages, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—in March this year I had been three months steward of the Oak Slate Club, which met once a month, on the first Monday in the month—there is a box belonging to the club which is kept locked, and there are three keys; it cannot be opened without the three keys being there at the same time unless it is broken open—I kept one key, Mr. Taylor kept the other, and John Church, the treasurer, the other—I attended three meetings as steward, the last was on 3rd March; it began at 7 p.m.—the box was not opened till a few minutes afterwards—Mr. Wood bridge and I were then present and several others—Mr. Taylor and Mr. Church opened it, and Mr. Woodbridge, the secretary—it remained open till 10.30; during that period I kept, the money and gave it to Mr. Church, who put it in a box—at 10.30 there was a little bit of a dispute about paying some of the club members, and they kept the box open, or otherwise it would have been closed at 9 o'clock—the box was locked up and Church took it away at very nearly 11 o'clock—Mr. Rickworth and Charles Alexander and John Church locked its up with three keys—from the beginning of that meeting down to the very end, 11 o'clock, John Church was there—I left the Rising Sun about 11.4 as nearly as I can tell you, and Church was then behind the bar.

Cross-examined. I have been a member of the Slate Club three years—I have not been there at other meetings—I am not steward now—I don't know whether this matter was much spoken about afterwards—I use Church's house sometimes; I live about a quarter of a mile off—Church's being given into custody for the Richmond murder was a good deal spoken of in his house—I knew his brother by sight, or her brother, I do not know which he is—I have bade him good morning—he has never spoken to me—I have been to the Slate Club one night since 3rd March—I was there at the next meeting, 3rd April, but did not stop; I came away directly; I was not steward then, Rickworth had succeeded me, that was the reason he

had the key—I only stopped five minutes or a very little more—I will swear I did not stop an hour—I believe Church's being given in custody was spoken of at the Slate Club while I was there, but I do not know—Church was at the club on 3rd March, but not at the April meeting—yes, it was spoken of, but I cannot tell you by who—the conversation about it was not general while I was there, but I heard it spoken of; if I heard Alexander say anything I have forgotten it—I did not hear Rickworth say anything—the box was opened that night, the first Monday in April—Mrs. Church brought the key when he did not happen to be in the house, he left the key with her, and the two others opened the box with his key; that was so on other occasions and the key was always left with Mrs. Church—Church was not there in April, but I can swear that he was never absent from the club-room on any night before April this year, that is for the first three months; the keys were not left downstairs at Church's, I always took mine home; if I were not going I should send the key by my wife, but I never did—I can tell you when I was first asked to give evidence in this case, but my head is not so good as it used to be—I am looking at a book, it was on April 27th; my eyes are so bad, I cannot see without my glasses; these numbers in the book are the days I have been up and have had to attend here and at Richmond, and my railway fare, these other figures relate to my work; 40 means 40 tons of chalk washing, and 303 means 303 tons; here is "Railway fare; Richmond, 8—8—8; Old Bailey, 8—8—8," that was going to Richmond on 26th, 27th and 28th, and coming up here before the Grand Jury; this 8—8—8 means three eightpences—I don't know whether anybody was going to pay me that—I could not see the book very well without my glasses, but I could see that that gentleman Had got it wrong—I was first asked to give evidence on the Saturday before April 27th—I was not at Church's, to my knowledge, on Sunday, April 27th—I must have made a mistake if I have put down April 27th here, I took that to be the day of the month; I must have mistaken it, I cannot tell you where I was on the last Sunday in April—I have been to the Slate Club on another occasion when it was going on, but not for 12 months—I think I was in the Slate Club room on Sunday night when Church was in custody—I don't know what the date was, the room was full; I cannot say who was there; Thurlow may have been there; I did not see him—I was not talking to him—Mrs. Church's brother was not in the room with us at the time I was there—the murder case was not being talked about that I recollect—Church being in prison was talked about, but not by me; there was drink in the room and I think I paid for a pint; I did not see any given away, plenty of others paid for it—I can't say who, there were so many strangers in the room; I mean to say that I did not know every man in the room—Church first spoke to me about giving evidence after he got out of prison, he said that I should be wanted—I told him I knew nothing about the case, I did not want to have anything to do with it—I knew that I was wanted to say that he was at the Slate Club on 3rd March, he told me so himself—he did not say, "You recollect I was at the Slate Club on 3rd March;" nothing of the kind, he only said that I should be wanted; he did say that he wanted me to say that he had been at the Slate Club—I knew that I should be wanted, and that the evidence I was to give was about his being at the Slate Club on March 3rd—I knew that from Church, but he never said anything about March 3rd; he did not say anything to me about the Slate Club on 3rd March, but I knew it because

I read in the paper that he said he had been at the Slate Club on 3rd March, and therefore that is what I thought I should be wanted for; plenty of the members of the club had spoken to me about Church having been there on 3rd March; they did not speak about it. that I know of, at the bar of the Rising Sun; it was publicly talked about.

Re-examined. It was the common talk of the neighbourhood that Church was at the Slate Club on 3rd March, and he was there—he was there at each of the three meetings on which I acted as steward.

By the COURT. This is my writing; it is "April 27, 30; May 3, 26, 27, 28; June 2"—the next, in smaller writing, is "Railway fare, Richmond, three times, three eightpences; Old Bailey, five eightpences"—Thurlow was not a member of the Slate Club.

Monday, July 7th.

DAVID KUSS (Re-examined). I have brought the book—it commences with an entry of 1st March, 1879, but there is no entry in it relating to the ring which Church ordered—the next entry is 31st March—I received the order from Church on 24th February, and am certain that it was on the Monday following the 24th that I called on Church, as I have stated—I delivered the ring myself on the 10th—I am quite certain of that—here is the sold book, in which it is entered, but not in my writing—it is kept by Mr. Myers, who is here—it is entered on 11th March, 40s. and 11s.; 2l. 11s. altogether—the 40s. was for the ring—all the goods are charged against me—I delivered the ring to Church personally the day before, Monday, the 10th.

GEORGE WOODBRIDGE . I am a carpenter, of 2, York Road, Hammersmith—in March last I was secretary of the Oak Slate Club, which meets at Church's house on the first Monday of the month—I attended the meeting of 3rd March—I got there about 7.25, at the opening of the meeting, and left about 10.40—it was my duty to keep this book (produced)—the box is opened with three keys—Church had one, Taylor one, and Harris one—they were all there each with his key—I was present when the box was opened—March 3rd is entered here in my writing on the same day, and there I have entered the moneys received that day—it does not follow that the persons entered here were actually present—I should enter the name if money was sent for a member—Munt and Dupuis were members—I have their names entered here—I enter them as they pay—the stewards take the money; I have nothing to do with it; they pay it over to Church, the treasurer; he puts it into the box generally, but on this night he put it into his pocket—. there was a dispute on that night as some members Who were on the club were caught in a public-house—Church was not there the whole time up to the time I left, but he was backwards and forwards—I left him in the house.

Cross-examined. It does not follow that because the name of the person who pays is in the book he was at the meeting—I have not the slightest doubt that Church was there that evening—I was then working for Newton and Trigg, of Wandsworth—I have never been in a Court of Justice before.

(MR. SLEIGH here stated that he did not feel justified in any further cross-examination of these witnesses.)

CHARLES ALEXANDER . I live at 22, Rainham Road, Hammersmith—I became steward of the Slate Club on 3rd March, after Harris—I was at the

Rising Sun that night from 7 to 12.20—John Church was there all that time.

JOHN GILL . I live at 11, Purfield Street, Hammersmith—I was a metropolitan police inspector, but have retired on a pension—on March 4, at 9.45 a.m., I saw Church for the first time; he was in Glenthorne Road, Hammersmith—I had a conversation with him, and we went in an omnibus to Kensington Vestry Hall—we got there at 10.45—it was the day for the Licensed Victuallers' renewal meeting before the Justices—I got off the omnibus, and have no recollection of seeing Church after, but I think I saw him at 12 o'clock.

Cross-examined. There is a printed list of the order in which the cases are taken, but I think it is only given to officials—I have had difficulty in getting one—I left at 2 o'clock—I don't think I saw Church after 12 o'clock.

WILLIAM ALLEN . I am a labourer, of 55, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—early in March, at 6 or 7 p.m., I went to the Rising Sun, and stayed there till 12.30 playing at dominoes with John Church; not quite all the time—we had several games, but I can't say how many—a man named Johnson was scoring—I know it was 4th March, because the 3rd was my son's birthday, and it was the night after.

Cross-examined. I can't tell you what year my son was born in, but he is three years old—he was christened at Usey, in Wiltshire—when he was born my missus went to the registrar's office, but I did not—I believe there is a certificate, but I can't read—I have not seen it for a good bit—I can't say whether I said before the Magistrate that it was a month before or not—I kept no account of when I was examined—when Church was in custody Mrs. Church asked me whether I remembered playing at dominoes with him on 4th March—I used to play with him often before this case.

WILLIAM JOHNSON . I am a labourer, of 8, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—I was at the Rising Sun on a Tuesday in March, I believe it was the 4th, and saw Allen there—two more men were playing, and Church came in between 6 and 7 and sat down to play with Allen, and I took the score—I remained till closing-time, which is 12.30 on week-days—he was in and out during the night.

Cross-examined. I was not examined at Richmond before the Justices; I was only in the waiting-room—that was on a Thursday and Friday in March or April, and I was at the Hammersmith Police-station on Monday—Allen spoke to me about it first—I did not see Church on the night he was discharged; I saw him afterwards—I did not see him carried about the neighbourhood.

MARY DURDEN . I live at London Street, Kingston—I am a straw-bonnet and hat maker—I have known the prisoner about four years—I saw her on Shrove Tuesday, 25th February, at my house—at that time I was very ill—8he told me she was going to Birmingham to see about some property which her aunt had left her; that—she had had a letter from her aunt, telling her where to find her gold watch and chain and her jewels, and everything her aunt had was to come to her—she said she was going direct to Birmingham that afternoon, and she then left my house—she told me she was going to sell the property, the furniture, and that her aunt's will and jewels were in a certain drawer—she said she was staying at Richmond—the interview lasted about an hour—she laughed and talked about the property, of which she said she was going to sell the principal part, and she also spoke about her little boy—she said Mr. Strong had sent him to school.

Cross-examined. I knew her before she went to Mr. Mitchell's service—I never had any angry words with her on any occasion—I know a Mr. Parker; he keeps the Three Tuns public-house—I never had a quarrel with her there—my husband is not in the habit of using the Three Tuns; he uses the house very seldom—I have gone into the Three Tuns to find him; I might have gone there twice—I have never been angry with my husband there—I never found him there drinking with Kate Webster, or in any public-house—I never saw him in her company—she came to our house for work for her mistress, Mrs. Mitchell—it was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon on Shrove Tuesday when she came to me—she did not go into my private sitting-room, nor did she sit; she stood the whole hour—she never talked to me on anything but business before, only about her little boy, who she said was in the Union—I was first spoken to about giving evidence on 5th May, I think—Inspectors Dodwoll and Pearman spoke to me; I had made no communication to them.

Re-examined. They came to me; I did not go to them—I was subpœnaed to Richmond and examined—I had not talked to anybody about it before that, only to my family when reading the paper—my son is 21, my daughter 24, the others are 18 and 9—I had not spoken of it to my husband—when the prisoner came to me on Shrove Tuesday she was in a very excited state of mind; I could not find out what was the matter with her; she was laughing and talking, that is the best description I can give—she told me she was going to Birmingham to see about the property—that was where her aunt lived.

THOMAS BOND , F.R.C.S. I am assistant surgeon at the Westminster Hospital, and lecturer on forensic medicine there—I live at 17, Delahay Street—on the 12th March last I went to the mortuary at Barnes, and saw. some portions of a human body, but they were not then in the box, and also some portions in another box—there were the upper part of the chest, with the upper ribs, the heart and part of the right lung attached, the right shoulder and part of the right upper arm, the whole of the left upper arm, the right thigh, cut off below the joint, the right leg divided from the thigh at the knee joint, and cut off from the foot above the ankle, also a part of the pelvis, with the uterus attached, and the left foot cut off above the ankle joint—I did not notice the ovaries; they were shrivelled and dried; the soft parts appeared to have been hacked—he bones had been sawn roughly, and the division had been made without any relation to anatomical structure—the divisions of the bones might have been produced by an ordinary meat saw; with the exception of one thigh the remains were very dry, shrivelled, shrunken, and very brown, and the soft parts easily tore, the cartilage easily peeled off, and the tendons were very soft; I had no doubt that the parts had been boiled—the thigh was in a natural state; it contained fluid blood; the muscles were red, and not retracted; it appeared to have been dead a week or a fortnight, but no decomposition had taken place—that would be to some extent dependent on the weather, which was very cold at the time—I examined very carefully the articular surface of the natural thigh bone and the articular surface of the boiled lag, and found that they matched, and I also found that a bit of cartilage which had been cut off from the leg bone was adherent to the thigh bone—the pieces matched, and I formed a positive opinion that the thigh and the leg belonged to the same body—the foot had been boiled—I found no evidence

of disease about it; it had been separated in the same unskilful manner as the other limbs—it was a smallish foot and matched in general size the other remains—I am sure the person to whom the remains belonged was a short person—only one long bone was entire; I measured that, it was 11 1/2in., and if we take the average of an arm bone 11 1/2in., that gives a height of a little over 5ft.—the remains were those of a woman—I found some dark-brown hair under the arm-pits, not grey—on 26th March a carpet-bag was brought to my house, tied up, containing human remains, and a little box with some burnt bones, and on the 28th I received some more bones—I have examined them, and I have recognised pieces of the left thigh bone, the small bone of the left leg, the small bone of the right arm, the hand bones of the right hand, some pieces of the haunch bone or pelvis, and some fragments of the spinal column—I found a piece of the large bone of the leg and a part of the large bone of the arm—I cannot say to which side they belonged—they had all been burnt to a cinder—there were no duplicates of those I had already found in the box—I prepared a diagram of a human skeleton, show—the burnt parts red and the missing portions differently coloured—there was no fragment of any skull—the specific gravity of the human body is such that it may float in water after death—the head will not float by itself—the body floating or not depends on the state of decomposition, and whether it is fat or not—a solid limb thrown into the water would sink, unless very much decomposed—a fat body would float while a lean one would sink—the head. would always sink—if in a box with air between the specific gravity of the wood would help it to float—I examined some black grease which the inspector produced to me in a pot, but I can only say it was black grease; it was such as would be produced by boiling any flesh, and it had been in contact with metal—that is all the remains that I had—I examined a linen cuff in the bag that came on the 26th both chemically and microscopically, and found a spot of blood on it—I found smears of blood on a house-cloth, as if it had wiped something, and a stain of blood on a flannel petticoat, as if it had soaked through something; it was a pale stain—I examined the bonnet produced, and found a thick clot of blood on the velvet, a clot of blood on the rim, a clot of blood on one of the leaves, stains of blood on one of the strings, and a stain of blood on the end of one of the strings—the stains here were very thick, and looked as if the bonnet had fallen into blood—there must have been a considerable quantity of blood—I call it a clot in contradistinction to a stain—I examined a piece of wall paper that had been cut out and brought to me—that contained a splash of blood about three, or four inches long—it was clotted on; it must have been a big splash—I had to take part of it to examine it, and gave the rest to Inspector Pearman—the quantity of blood would be as much as from 10 to 15 drops; it had apparently struck against the wall and then run down—I also examined a little chip of wood; that also had a stain of blood on it; there was no clot there; it was as if something bloody had just touched the wood—I know it was the blood of a mammal, that is all, not that of a fish or bird; with that qualification I have no doubt whatever that it was blood.

Cross-examined. I did not hear Dr. Adams give his evidence at the inquest—I do not agree with him if he says that he should think that the remains were those of a woman between 18 and 30 years of age—I am sure that is wrong—I am sure it an was older woman—I put It as a woman

over 50—I am quite sure she was more than 4 feet unless she was deformed—I approximate it to 5 feet 2 inches—there was not the slightest means of finding out whether she came by her death naturally or by violence—a woman may die from heart disease, or apoplexy, or she may burst a blood vessel and die from vomiting or from hemorrhage—if a woman were excited and burst a blood vessel she would drop down, and there would be a copious flow of blood from the mouth—it is not possible in my point of view that they were the bones of a woman under 50—half of the pelvis has never been recovered, and a portion of the ribs and the lower portion of the body are both missing—it was never suggested to me that they were anybody's bones—I heard of a young woman being missing at East Sheen, near Richmond, but no one spoke to me about it afterwards—I had no means of judging the height by actual measurement—parts of the body had been boiled, by which I was puzzled at first—I do not agree with the theory that the remains had been in the water some days—assuming that the woman had fallen down, breaking a blood vessel, the bonnet might have fallen off and dropped into the blood-intense nervous excitement, a tremulousness of the voice, and flushing of the face, are symptoms which would naturally precede a person being attacked with a fit; if I had heard of a woman being intensely excited, so that her bonnet fell off, and her hands trembled, and her face flushed, I should consider those premonitory symptoms.

Re-examined. Although I was puzzled in the first instance by the boiling I have come to the conclusion that the flesh had been boiled.

JAMES ADAMS , M.D. I am a surgeon and I practise at Barnes—on 5th March I was called to the side of the river by Barnes Terrace a little before seven, where I saw a box and some human remains on the river bank—I examined them again at the mortuary—the right thigh was in a fresh condition, with fresh blood; the other portion was much shrivelled, as though it had been saturated in water or chemicals—I mentioned at the inquest that the person was probably not over 30—I thought that because of the hair of the armpit and the portion of the thigh which was unboiled—I have not made any further examination, but I have heard Mr. Bond's evidence—my opinion is the woman was over 50 years of age, and probably 5ft. 3in. or 4in. high—I cannot possibly tell within three or four inches—the body had been separated without regard to anatomical structure.

Cross-examined. I did not hear the Coroner state at the inquest that a young German girl had left her situation about a week before with a similar box; I heard the rumour—when I gave my evidence before the Coroner I said probably the remains were those of a woman between 18 and 30—I have not made any further examination—when I qualify my opinion I qualify it upon the opinion of another medical man—there was only one perfect bone among the whole of the remains, the left arm bone, which I measured, but it was possible to make an accurate measurement within a few inches—my evidence before the Coroner was founded on the measurement of that entire bone—my limits are not narrower to-day—I did not tell the Coroner that the height was between 4ft. and 5ft. 3in.; nothing so ridiculous—if you have the Coroner's note you will see—I think I said 5ft. 4in.

CRESWELL WELLS (Re-examined). I have measured certain distances—from the Rising Sun to Mayfield, over Hammersmith Bridge, is 5 miles 153 yards, and over Kew Bridge 7 miles 725 yards—from Mayfield to Richmond

railway-station, by way of Church Road, is 1,390 yards—I only tried that way.

JOHN CHURCH (Re-examined by MR. SLEIGH). My name was Church before I enlisted—I believe my father's name was Church; it was as far as I know—my mother's maiden name was Body—I might have been in a situation in a public-house before I entered the Army—I might have been in a situation as barman—when I come to think may have been; I cannot say where exactly; it was in London—I was in London when I enlisted—I might have been in a situation as barman; I cannot recollect now—Q Do you mean, upon your oath, to say before the gentlemen of the Jury that you do not recollect?—A. I might have been—I might have been in a public-house before I was in the service, but cannot say where—I was in the House of Detention on this case, but not in prison before to my knowledge—I have not been in prison-before I was arrested on this charge; that I swear—when I said "not to my knowledge" I suppose I spoke too rapidly—I went home the other day after my examination at this Court—I did not say to anybody that I could have opened my mouth a good deal more, but I was not going to do it to fill everybody's—I might have had a copy of the Echo in my house that evening containing a report of my cross-examination; I will not swear—I will not swear I did not show it to a gentleman over the bar—I will not swear I did not show it to two gentlemen who went into the bar of the Rising Sun after I came home—there are so many go in and out I will not swear that I did or didn't have a conversation with two gentlemen about my evidence—I do not know Mr. Boyd, the auctioneer, of Hammersmith.

By the SOLICITOR-GENERAL. I enlisted in 1857—I went into the 11th Hussars in 1860, and purchased my discharge in 1866; I went into service in 1866 with Mr. Allen, of Pall Mall, and I was afterwards with Mr. Fish, of Charlwood, Surrey; that brings me down to 1871, when I took the Rising Sun, where I have been ever since.

The following Statements by the Prisoner, alluded to in the evidence of the officers, were read as follows:—No. 1. "I have known John Church for nearly seven years: I first got acquainted when I was living two or three doors from Church's at Porter's. He used to take me out to London and to various public-houses. I met him again some months ago, and he came to my mistress's house one night worse for drink. After remaining there for some time I told him he would have to go, as I expected my mistress home from church. My mistress came home and knocked at the door, and I let her in. Church was in the back at this time. My mistress went into the front room, and she said,' Kate, don't you think I am very lute?' I said, 'No, as I have company.' He (Church) had previously told me to say that he was my brother. Mrs. Thomas said,' Who have you got here?' and I said,' My brother, who has come, to see ma' At this time he was getting sober, Mrs. Thomas went into the back room and spoke to him, and asked him to come into the front room by the fire, and she asked me if he would wish to remain all night, and he said, 'No, I must not stay all night,' and turning round to me he said, 'You know I must not stay out all night,' and I said, 'No.' Shortly after that he left. A few days after he came again into the house, and during conversation I had told him the mistress had no money in the house; he said, 'Couldn't we put the old woman out of the way?' I said, 'What do you mean?' He said,' Oh, poison her!' I said, 'You must do that yourself; I'll have nothing to do with that.' Church said,' We would

have her things and go off to America together and enjoy it, as I am getting tired of my old woman.' He left late in the evening. He came again on the Monday night, the 3rd of March, and bad tea with Mrs. Thomas. I waited upon them. After tea I asked Mrs. Thomas to go out to see my little boy; she said, 'Yes, Kate, and you need not hurry back.' When I returned late in the evening I noticed the light was turned down. I knocked three times at the door; the third knock Church opened the front door, when I saw Mrs. Thomas lying on the mats in the passage struggling and groaning, and he said,' Come in.' I drew back on to the step frightened to go in. At this time there was a policeman standing on the opposite side of the road, a tall dark man. Church catched me by the arm, pulled me in, and closed the door. I said, 'Whatever have you done?' He said, 'Never you mind, I have done it for her, and if you say a word about it I'll put this knife into you up to the bundle.' That was a carving knife belonging to Mrs. Thomas. I felt very faint, and when he said he would put the knife into me, I said, 'No, John, don't; I won't tell I' He offered me what I thought was a glass of water. I said, 'No, I am better now,' thinking it was poison, and that he was going to serve me the same as Mrs. Thomas. Shortly after we left the house together, leaving Mrs. Thomas there, and took a cab. I had told him I would not stay in the house by myself. We drove to near Church's house. Church saw me into Mrs. Porter's, and I remained there for the night. I got up early the next morning and went into Church's house. Mrs. Church remarked that I was out early. Church was there, and beckoned me to go up the street. I went up, and he joined me shortly afterwards, and he said, 'I can't get over to your house before one o'clock, as I got into a row with my old woman last night for being out so late again, and I must stay at home this morning to make it up with her.' I said I should not go back to the house by myself. He had the keys of the front and side door, and said be should be down by two. He asked me what time I would be down; I told him I would not be down there before night. He told me where to meet him, at the Richmond Hotel, over the bridge. I took the boy Porter with me, and as I passed the hotel I saw Church inside. I asked the boy to go on a short distance and wait. I went to the house (hotel), and spoke to Church, and he asked me what I would have to drink. I had some whisky. He then gave me the keys of the house, and said I was to go to the house, take the boy with me, and I should find a box in the back room which he had packed up tied with cord. The boy was to assist me to bring it away, not to take a cab from the house, but if we passed One on the way to the bridge we Were to take it; but we didn't, so we carried it to the bridge. Church told me to let the boy Porter keep back and not see him when I went with the box, but he would be there to see me. I took the box on to the bridge, and placed it up on the bridge; the boy went away and Church appeared. I said, 'What are you going to do with the box?' Church said, 'That is my business.' There was a tall gentleman near on the opposite side of the bridge. I left him, and he said,' Follow the boy.' I left and heard a splash in the water. I joined the boy Porter at the foot of the bridge carrying a carpet bag, which we had also brought from the house, containing books and meat. We went to the railway station and found that the last train had gone. The boy asked a cabman what he would take him home for, and he said three shillings. The boy having only two shillings, and I no change, I said,' You shall come home and sleep with me.' We both slept in one room. On going downstairs in the kitchen I found the carpeting rolled up, and the table with a

leaf let down put up against the cupboard, and the boards wet, as if they had been washed, and a large fire in the kitchen, and a large saucepan on the fire full of water, but I saw no blood. About two days after, when I was cleaning up the scullery, I saw some blood on the carving knife. There was a meat saw hanging up by the fireside, but on that day I found it on a box ill the scullery quite clean. Since Mrs. Thomas disappeared, Church, Porter, and his boy has been frequently at the house, Church directing me to order meat as if it Was fur Mrs. Thomas. It has been taken to his house, cooked, and eaten there, likewise to Porter's. He called Porter in to value the goods and furniture in the house, and said to me, 'Don't you pay him for the valuation, I'll pay him.' I paid several bills; he said, 'Never mind paying them, pay Miss Ives, the landlady, to keep her quiet.' I went to pay her when they were removing the goods. I went to pay her, and she said, 'No.' She refused to take the money, and thought there was something wrong. I went back into the house and told Church, and said there was some noise being made. He said, 'I'll go out to Porter, and say I think there is something wrong about this; don't move the things.' He came back and said, You will have to clear out and go to your friends,' and I left soon after. He knew where I was going; he gave me a card with his address, and said I was to write to him, and 'I'll—stop at home and braze it out,' This was on Tuesday, the 19th, and I reached my uncle's house at Greenanne on the following Friday night. I wrote to Church to his address in Hammersmith, telling him I had arrived home safely. Before leaving it was partly arranged that I should remain at home for about three weeks, that be would send me money to come back with, and then we were to go to America. I never laid a band on Mrs. Thomas, and nothing to do with murdering her, but I knew Church had done it. All the money left in the house belonging to Mrs. Thomas was a 5l. note and thirty shillings. This note I changed at a fishmonger's in Richmond. Church and Porter were with me at the time. I intend to tell the whole truth, as I don't see why I should be blamed for what Church has done. I wouldn't accuse my greatest enemy of anything wrung, let alone a friend, which Church has been to me up till now."

No. 2. "Mr. Church wanted to know how to get the furniture away. I told him he could manage that as well as the other business. He then asked my consent to let Porter value the furniture, so as to have a witness; he (Porter) did value the furniture at 50l., and Mr. Church drew the receipt himself, but he has not paid the money. On the next evening we were sitting on the sofa in the front room. Porter was there, and another man, I don't know his name. Church told me to look after the furniture till he removed it. He suspected Porter of moving anything. He then gave me 10l. in gold, and called Porter's attention to it. I asked him why be wanted Porter to be acquainted with our conversation on the subject. He said,' To keep things on my side square.' Porter and the other man went on to Hammersmith. At the same time Church and I remained till the last train; that was on the Saturday night, 15th. On Sunday we went on the water. On Monday, I think about 11 or 12 o'clock, we reached down here (Richmond), and went home about half-past ten on Monday night On Tuesday morning we left home about 8 o'clock. He brought a roan with him to collect the furniture and get it ready for the vans. I asked him what he wanted to draw the receipt for, as it was between ourselves. He said, 'If I should be stopped by the landlady I shall have the receipt to produce.' The vans came at half-past 6.

As soon as Miss Ives saw the furniture going out, she came in and asked the carman where the furniture was going to be taken, and he declined to answer her. I was in the front room at the time with Mr. Church. He asked me who she was, and I told him the landlady; he told me not to show myself, and he would go out and tell the men to stop bringing out the furniture, and then it would not be noticed. He then returned into the house and came into the front room and asked me to go and see the landlady, and if she wanted the money for the rent he would give it to me to pay her. I asked him what I should say to the landlady. He replied, 'If she asks to see Mrs. Thomas, say she will be here in a few days' I then saw the landlady, and asked her if she wished to speak to me. She said, 'No, I want to see Mrs. Thomas.' I told her she was not at home. I asked her if she wanted her rent; she said, 'No, I want to know where the furniture is going to.' I told her it was going to Hammersmith. She then said, 'I will see about that.' I then went back and told Mr. Church what she said, and he said, 'I thought she was going to inform the police;' he then said, 'I have the agreement to produce, and I am not frightened, you get out of the way.' He then told me to write to him, and in case I should forget his address, he gave me his card and also his own portrait. I then left and went to Rose Gardens, and took my child away. I thought I had not enough money to travel with, and I went on to Mrs. Church's, the Rising Sun, and asked her to lend me a pound. She gave me a half-sovereign and ten shillings in silver, and I left the house. Church took the plate away on the Saturday before the Tuesday the furniture was to be removed. He was accompanied by me and Porter. We had 121b. of beef and a leg of mutton, 8lb. of cheese, 1lb. butter, 4lb. sugar, 1lb. tea, I quartern of flour, 1lb. suet, 1lb. wax candles, and 1 cake; these were taken to Church's and divided. Church taking the beef and candles and Porter the leg of mutton, cheese, butter, sugar, tea, flour, suet, and cake. All I have now told you is quite true."

No. 3. 'On the 2nd of March, when Church pulled me into the house, I heard a cough in the back room, and I fell inside the front room door against the chiffonier, and upon recovering myself I saw Henry Porter standing on the mat at the front room door. He said to Church,' What is the matter with her?' Church said, 'Oh, she'll be all right in a minute,' Porter said, 'Didn't you see me coming in after you?' I said 'No.' He said, 'I was coming behind you for a long way.' I suspected he had not followed me, and I asked him,' What way did I come?' He said, "Straight up the hill by the church.' I said, 'No, I came the Cemetery way.' He then said, 'There was someone very much like you on ahead of me.' Church said, 'Don't hesitate, you both got here somehow.' Porter said, 'That's quite right, but I never saw anyone so much like her in my life.' Church and Porter then went into the back room. Alter about twenty minutes Porter came out; he turned to Church and said, 'Jack, I'll go on a little before you.' Church said, 'We are all going now in a minute.' Porter said, 'There'll be too much notice taken of us all going together.' Porter then took his hat from off the front room table, and said to Church, 'I suppose I'll see you at home to-night, and then we can talk about matters.' Porter left, and afterwards Church and me followed. We went from Richmond to Shaftesbury Road Station, and when we got to the Rising Sun, Rose Gardens, Church said, 'They are shut up; but there, come in.' I said, 'No, I won't, it is too late.' Mrs. Church then opened the door; she

said to Church, 'Porter is here waiting for you;' she also said, 'Isn't Kate coming in?' Church answered, 'No, she wants to get home.' Church insisted that I should go in, but I would not; he said, 'Perhaps Porter wants to see you.' I said, 'He must see me when he comes home.' I then left Church, I did not see Porter that night. I went to Porter's house, the door was opened by me, and I went into the front parlour and went to bed on the sofa. I heard Porter come in about half an hour after; he fastened the door and went into the back room, which is called the kitchen. I have often slept at the same place, and have lodged at Porter's house for six months in 1873. Shortly afterwards I heard the handle of the door of the room where I was sleeping turn, but I had it locked on the inside. I asked who was there, and Air. Porter spoke and said, It is me, Kate; I want to see you.' I told him I was undressed, and he should see me in the morning. He then said, 'Good night; I'll be going out at 5, and I'll call you.' I saw Porter at 10 minutes past 5 in the morning; he said,' I must go to work today to keep things straight; will you go home to Richmond before I come home to-night? I'll be home at 5,' I said, 'It all depends, perhaps I won't go then.' Porter said,' Church is going down, but he won't go till after dinner.' I says, 'Where did you see Church so early?' He said, 'I was there last night when you came home, didn't you know that?' I said, 'Yes; Mrs. Church said so,' He said, 'Church and me has arranged matters,' and that 'I must see him to-night if I can get off. I'll get off, for I'll not do overtime.' He then went away to his work. I stopped there till 5 o'clock that day, Monday, 3rd March, when Porter came home. I got the tea ready, as Mrs. Porter was the worse for drink. After having tea Porter said, 'Are you going down?' I said, 'Yes; I think I'll go.' He said, 'Church is to meet me as 'Hartley's. Isn't the boy going down with you, Kate?' (meaning his son Robert). I said, Yes.' The boy went to wash himself, and Porter said, 'Don't let that boy know anything only as little as you can. Porter, me, and the boy then went down Hammersmith. We went into a public-house near the old railway station and had something to drink. This was about 7 o'clock, and I said, 'Now we must get on if we are going to Richmond to-night.' We went to the new station, and finding we had some time to wait Porter said we might walk to the Shaftesbury Road. We 'done' so, and when we got to the top of the Shaftesbury Road the boy said, 'Ain't you going home now, father?' He (Porter) said yes, he would go and have another pint to himself, and then be would go. Porter asked me to come into a public-house with him, but I said, 'No, I'll lose the train if I do.' The boy was waiting for me, and he hurried him on, and said, 'Kate will catch you in a minute.' Porter arranged that he would come on to Richmond by the next train. I said, 'Can't you come by this train?' he said, 'No, I don't want the boy to know it. I don't suppose I shall see you any more to-night.' We then parted, and I went to Richmond with the boy. I saw Church at Hartley's, the Richmond Hotel. I told the boy to go on in front of me. I went in and saw Church there, and spoke to him. I told him Porter was coming by the next train; he asked me to have something to drink, and I had some whisky and water; he then gave me two keys, one of the side door, and one of the glass door at the back of the house, and said, 'You'll find a small box in the back room on the ground floor between the sofa and bookcase, it ain't very heavy. I think the boy and you can manage it; don't take a cab from the house, if you think you can't carry it; if you meet a cab you can bring it

with you to Richmond Bridge; I'll be there some time before you; I'll wait here until Porter comes. Does the boy know his father is coming down?' I said, 'No, the boy suspects something, for he asked me in the train, "What is there, Kate, between father, you, and Church?" I left Church in the public-house, and joined the boy up the street, and went to the house with him. We then went in through the side entrance round to the glass door and into the back room. I he the lights, and after stopping in the house a short time we left by way of the front door, carrying between us the box mentioned by Church, and a large carpet-bag. I did not know what was in the box, but the bag contained a large family Bible and seven other books, some meat, and a number of things. We carried the box on all the way, we met no cab. Getting on the middle of the bridge we put the box down. I said to the boy, 'Now, you go on to the station and I'll catch you;' he said, 'Very well, Kate,' and went. Then Church came up to me, and I said to him, 'How long have you been here?' he said, 'Not very long;' I said,' Where is Porter, did you see him?' he said,' Yes, I waited for him; don't let the boy know we are here, go on after him as quick as you can;' I said, "Where is the cab for this box? you can't carry it;' he said, Never mind that, I'll see about it' I then left Church and, following the boy, I got a short distance away, when I heard a splash in the water. Turning round, I saw a tall dark man standing on the bridge, it was too dark to recognise him. I caught up to the boy and said, 'Did you hear anything like falling into the water?' he said, 'Yes, Kate, I thought I heard a splash of something.' We then went to the station carrying the bag between us. Finding the last train was gone for Hammersmith, the boy insisted on going home; he had two shillings, and I having no change, I said, 'You can't get a cab for two shillings to take you.' A cabman said he would take him for three. I said, 'You had better come up and stay all night, and we'll go home in the morning early enough.' We went, and going in the same way to the house, I told him to go into the front room; I then went upstairs and took my bonnet off, coming downstairs and into the kitchen. I found a large fire there, a large iron saucepan full of water; the table with one leaf let down was removed to one side of the kitchen against the cupboard, the carpet pushed back right off the floor; the floor was all wet as if washed or scrubbed. I missed the meat saw which always hung against the fireplace, but two days afterwards, when I went into the washhouse, I found the saw standing on a large box which always stood there, and on that day I also saw a carving knife lying on the scullery floor, partly behind the box. I picked it up and found it rusty, and marks (streaky) of blood on it. I also found at that time brown paper under the sink, with dirty-looking marks upon it. The boy Porter stopped at the house all night, and slept in the same room with me. I made him a bed. I saw Church and Porter on the next evening, Tuesday, 4th of March; the two came down together about half-past 7; I had been to Hammersmith all day. Church wasn't at home, and I was home at Richmond some time before them. Church brought a bottle of brandy in his pocket; he asked me for the corkscrew, I told him I couldn't find it. I thought him or Porter had taken it. He said he didn't take it, and Porter commenced laughing. I said to Porter, You have it, then?' He said, 'Yes, of course I claim some of the things as well as other people.' Porter and Church then began talking how they would dispose of the things. I went into the back room, leaving them in

the front room, and stopped there some time, then returned into the front room, and found Church and Porter in deep conversation. Porter said,' Do you know how to act, Kate?' I said, 'Yes, I know when you tell me.' Church said, 'It's easy for her to act if she'll only listen to what we tell her.' I then took a chair and sat down; I said to Church, 'Now let me hear what you have got to tell me.' Porter then said, 'If any one comes and asks for Mrs. Thomas say she is gone to the country for a few days.' He then said to Church, 'Ain't that the best thing to say?' Church said, 'Yes; and another thing you had better to do, when you want anything order it in Mrs. Thomas's name as you have always done since you have been here.' Porter then said, 'The tradespeople will think by doing that that Mrs. Thomas is here.' But I. said, 'When the bills want to be paid, she pays every week, they'll know she is not here.' Church said, 'Oh, damn the bills; we'll be moved before the bills come in. Let us get all we can while we are about it; it is no good in being too honest in this world, is there, Harry?' Porter said, 'No; if you can do it on the quiet; the thing is in not being found out' Church said, 'There is only our three selves that know it. I want a piece of the sirloin of beef for Sunday; and what do you want?' Porter said he would like a leg of mutton. Church told me when the butcher come to order it in Mrs. Thomas's name. Mrs. Thomas had two butchers, one beyond the railway station and one at the top of Richmond Hill, where the beef and mutton was got from. We bad sapper, and came off to Hammersmith. The above statement has been read over to me by Inspector Jones, in the presence of Inspector Dowdell, and is correct."

ELIZABETH IVES (Re-examined). It is not true that the prisoner came and offered to pay me the rent, or that I refused to take the money—she did not ask me if I wanted my rent; none was due.

Cross-examined. She was coming up the steps to speak to me, and I said you would attend to it, and shut the door—her lips moved, and I could have heard her if she said anything, but no sound came—she was not the right lady for me to speak to—I was near enough to hear if she had used any words; there are only three steps to the front door, and no noise was going on to prevent my hearing; I am not at all deaf.

MARIA CHURCH (Re-examined). When my husband came home on Sunday, 2nd March, with the prisoner, I did not open the door and say to him "Porter is here waiting for you;" nor did I say "Is not Kate coming in?"—nor did he say "No, she wants to go home"—nothing of that kind happened—it is not true that on Tuesday morning, March 4th, the prisoner came into my house, nor did I say to her "You are up early this morning"—she was not at our house on the morning of 4th March—I can swear that—the first time I saw her was March 9th.

MR. MENHENNICK (Re-examined). Mrs. Thomas's hair was dark—I cannot say whether there was any grey in it, but it did not show sufficiently for anybody to notice it—I never noticed it. (Receipt read: "March 18th, 1879. Received of John Church the sum of 68l. for furniture, part and effects of 2, Mayfield Cottages." Not signed.)


The Prisoner, on being called up for judgment, pleaded pregnancy in stay of execution, whereupon a Jury of Matrons was impanneled to ascertain whether or no the prisoner was with child and quick with child, and upon the evidence of Thyrza Belsham , one of the warders of Newgate, and Mr. Bond, the surgeon (who examined the prisoner), the Jury found that the prisoner was not quick with child. Sentence of DEATH was then passed .

Before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

Reference Number: t18790630-654

654. THOMAS CHARLES PRICE (27) , Unlawfully causing to be inserted in a register of marriages a false entry of a marriage between himself and Amelia Sarah Hastie.


HENRY WATTS . I am the Record-keeper at the Office of the Vicar-General to the Archbishop of Canterbury at Doctors' Commons—on the 18th October last a man came to my office giving the name of Thomas Charles Price, and applied for a marriage licence—I made this note at the time: he described himself as a widower, of Forest Gate, Essex, and Amelia Sarah Hastie as a spinster, of St. Peter's, Croydon, and a minor, or rather of the age of 18 and upwards, that she had no father, no mother, and no guardian; that he wished the marriage to take place at St. Peter's, Croydon, she having resided there for the last 15 days—T then prepared this affidavit; I filled it up from his instructions, read it over to him, and he signed it in my presence T. C. Price—I then either took or sent it to Dr Robertson, the surrogate, to be sworn, and on his return with it either I or one of the clerks would make out the marriage licence—I find Dr. Robertson's signature to the affidavit—the marriage licence was filled up by one of the clerks; it bears the seal of the Vicar-General, and the signature of Mr. Hassard, the principal Registrar of the Archbishop, and it bears my initials—then, in the ordinary course, the person would pay 2l. 2s. 6d., the price of the licence, and it would be delivered to him after being read over to him to see that it was correct—I do not identify the prisoner.

Cross-examined. The licence was made out from the instructions which are taken, and which are put in the form of an affidavit—I don't remember whether the person who came had a considerable stutter, or whether he came alone.

DR. JOHN ELLIOT PAISLEY ROBERTSON . I am one of the surrogates of the Vicar-General of the Archbishop of Canterbury—my office is in Bell Yard, Doctors' Commons—it is part of my duty to administer the oath to persons requiring a marriage licence—this is my signature to this affidavit—I administered the oath in the usual form, and the affidavit was then taken back to the office to have the licence made out.

ROBERT JOHN BAILEY . I am clerk at St. Peter's Church, South Croydon—on Friday, 18th October, late in the evening, in consequence of some information from my wife, I arranged for a wedding to take place next morning—about a quarter past nine next morning I was fetched to the church—I met the prisoner in the churchyard—he said he had come to be married—I said I would open the church in a few minutes, and I admitted him and another man, two girls, and a woman—one of the girls was Amelia Sarah Hastie—I saw her afterwards at the police-court, and she is here now—the prisoner went with me into the vestry—I asked him for the licence, and he gave me the one produced—I then proceeded to enter into the register from the licence—I produce the original register—I entered the whole of it before the ceremony. (This described the lady as aged 18, the daughter of Walter Thomas Hastie, Admiralty Clerk.) The age is not stated in the licence; I got that, the father's name, and all the particulars from him, and put them down as he gave them—at that time I believe I was alone with him in the vestry, he was standing close by and saw what I wrote—I noticed that the lady looked very young and spoke to Mr. White, the clergyman, about it, and he took the licence in his hand and looked at it, and said "Is this licence correct?" or some words to that effect—the prisoner said "Yes"—he stammered very much, he has an impediment in his speech, but he said it was quite correct—sir. White said, "You are sure it is all right?"—he said, "Yes, sir"—we then proceeded into the church, and the marriage was solemnised—all the parties afterwards came into the vestry, and the prisoner signed the register, Miss Hastie next, Mr. Horne next, and his wife was about to sign, but I refused to take her signature as her husband had signed, and I asked the girl to sign, and she signed Rose Rimmell.

Cross-examined. I filled up the register from the licence as far as I could—the licence states "spinster, a minor"—the prisoner had no other document in his hand—he pulled the licence from his pocket and handed it to me in this envelope—at the time I put the questions to him we were alone in the vestry—Miss Hastie and the others were waiting in the chancel.

REV. JOHN WHITE . I am incumbent of St. Peter's Church, Croydon—on October 18 I remember an arrangement being made for a wedding next morning, and on the 19th at 9.30 I proceeded to the church—in consequence of something the clerk said, I said to the prisoner, "Is the licence correct?" he said "Yes"—he stammered very much—after that I performed the ceremony—I noticed that the lady appeared very young—after the ceremony the parties proceeded into the vestry and signed the register.

JAMES PEARSON MAY . I am a solicitor of 81, Bishopsgate street Without—I have known the family of Amelia Sarah Hastie for many years—I produce a certificate of the marriage of George Hastie, stationer, and Mary Janet Drew on 19th May, 1858—also a certificate of the 'birth of Amelia Sarah Hastie on 29th May, 1862—also a certificate of the death of George Hastie, bookbinder, on 2nd March, 1869—also a certificate of marriage of John Sue Achow and Mary Janet Hastie, widow, on 22nd May, 1869—a certificate of the death of John Sue Achow on 19th November, 1871—and a certificate of marriage of Thomas Charles Price and Mary Janet Achow on 24th June, 1876—and a certificate of the death of Mary Janet Price on 24th February, 1877—I knew George Hastie and his wife—the young lady I have seen is their daughter—the mother married Mr. Achow and afterwards married the prisoner—I produce a deed dated 5th July, 1866, between George Hastie of the first' part and Mary Janet of the second part and others—it relates to certain property in which Mary Janet Hastie was to have a life-interest, and at her death, and the death of another tenant for life of a small portion, the property was to go to the daughter, Amelia Sarab, on attaining the age of 21—it is worth about 300l. a year—a person named West was one of the trustees—in March, 1877, I first became acquainted with the prisoner, and by his direction I took proceedings to get a new trustee appointed, and he himself was afterwards appointed on 8th August, 1877, with a man named Ridley, who lives at Dormansland,

near Brighton—at that time the prisoner told me that Miss Hastie would be 15 next May—in the autumn of that year the prisoner was living at Forest Gate, Essex, and I was living at Stratford about a mile from him—I saw him very frequently—Miss Hastie was living with him at that time—I spoke to him on many occasions about sending her to school, and in October or November that year I told him it would be a great drawback to her in after years if she were not better cultivated, as she was very poorly educated indeed, and he said "She is good enough for me"—I asked what he meant, and he said that he should marry her himself, that her mother wished him to do so—I said "Are you serious?"—he said "Why not?"—I said "Why not' because the girl is a ward in Chancery, and you would be committing a contempt of Court, in addition to which you would be perpetrating a foul and unnatural crime, as she is your stepdaughter and within the prohibited degrees of affinity, and you would be liable to be very heavily punished"—on this he laughed, and said that he was only joking, that the girl wanted some months of 16, and that he bad made arrangements for sending her to school—I believed that it was a joke—he very seldom called on me after that—I saw him at my office on 12th August, 1878—he then told me that he bad removed to No. 2, Laurel Villas, Brighton Road, South Croydon—there was no such person of the Hastie family as Walter Thomas Hastie that I ever heard of—George Hastie, the father, was a bookbinder by trade—I know the prisoner's writing very well—I have no doubt that the signature to this affidavit is his, and also to the register.

Cross-examined. I don't know that George Hastie was in the Admiralty-1 believe he did occasionally do some work in the Admiralty—I don't know that he had a special appointment there—I did not know the whole family of the Hasties, I knew the Drews particularly—I had been concerned as their solicitor—I really could not tell whether there was such a person as Walter Thomas Hastie, I don't know that that was the name of one of George Hastie's sons—I don't know how many sons he had—I did not know much of any except George Hastie—the prisoner did not change his solicitor till late in 1878, the 12th August was not the last call he made on me.

WILLIAM HENRY MANNING . I am manager to Mr. Sidney Mayhew, solicitor, of 30, Walbrook—I became acquainted with the prisoner on 18th Sept 1878—he came to me on that day saying that he wished to change his solicitor—I saw him again on the 20th—he then told me that the young lady would be 17 on 29th May, 1879, and he had some conversation about marrying her, and I warned him not to do so, both on that day and afterwards repeatedly—on 18th October, 1878, he called on me and wanted to borrow some money—he had an appointment with me for the next day to go down to Dormansland, and he said he could not go as he had to go to a marriage—I saw him again on the 22nd when he said he had married Amelia—I reported the matter to the Chief Clerk of ViceChancellor Hall, and on the 25th November the prisoner was brought before the Vice-Chancellor, who in my presence asked him certain questions, and he was at once committed for contempt.

GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-655

655. THOMAS CHARLES BARNES (30) , Feloniously killing and slaying Thomas Spinks.

MR. H. GIFFARD Prosecuted; MR. PURCELL Defended.

JAMES DAVID SMITH . On the night of the 24th May I was standing outside the "Elephant" public-house, Vauxhall, and saw the prisoner fighting with another man, and his brother afterwards—the deceased, Thomas Spinks, was in my company—he was my brother-in-law—he walked up to the prisoner and said, "Now Charlie, come home along with me," leave off fighting along with them till another day," and he pat his hands on his shoulders—the prisoner turned round and caught hold of his throat by his left hand, and with the other hand took him by the tuft of hair on his chin—they stood for about two or three seconds and then fell down—the prisoner undermost—I unclenched his left hand by using my knuckles—it took me about three minutes to do it—I hit him and knocked him, and he let go his right hand and the deceased was then dead—he never breathed or spoke again—I went for a doctor.

Cross-examined. I had been outside the public-house about five or ten minutes—there was a fight, and the prisoner went to take his brother's part—the deceased did not go up and catch him by the arms behind—he tried to prevent his fighting—nobody else had got hold of him—they both fell in a sitting position—it was all done in an instant—Spinks was sober—the prisoner did not appear as if he had had much drink.

EDWARD HENRY MALTON . I am a surgeon of 72, South Lambeth Road—on the morning of the 25th I was called to see Spinks—he was dead—he might have been dead a few minuees—I afterwards examined the body—death resulted from syncopal asphyxia, from being throttled, and he must have fainted suddenly from the shock at the same time—I think he would not have died so suddenly unless he had had a weak heart and fainted—the violence produced the fainting, and the two together produced death—he had a weak, flabby heart.

Cross-examined. The marks on the throat were very slight indeed—say sudden shock will sometimes cause sudden death if the heart is weak.

GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. Three Months Imprisonment.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr Esq.

Reference Number: t18790630-656

656. SUSAN HALLUM (22) PLEADED GUILTY to endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child.— Judgment Respited.

Reference Number: t18790630-657

657. GEORGE JOHNSON (42) and JOHN JONES (19) , Breaking and entering the warehouse of Arthur Humphries and others, and stealing therein 27 seal-skins; his goods.

MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; and MESSRS. PURCELL and GEOGHEGAN Defended Jones.

GEORGE HAYNES . I am a foreman at Hibernia Wharf, kept by Messrs. Hugh, Colin, Smith, and others—part of the premises consist of dry arches under London Bridge, used as warehouses—on 22nd May a quantity of Greenland seal-skins, called "Whitecoats, "passed through my hands, and I saw them put safely into the warehouse in one of the arches, and locked up the premises a little after 6 p.m.—on going at 8.30 a.m. next day, I missed 27 skins—I identified 25 since at the police-court, and this (produced) is one.

Cross-examined by MR. PURCELL. I counted the skins to find how many were missing—the door was fastened with a padlock, and when I came next morning the padlock was taken off—only three men were employed at the warehouse that day with the skins—other goods were placed there, and other porters for them, about ten men altogether.

RICHARD KIMBER (Detective Sergeant M). In consequence of information I watched the prisoners in the Grange, Bermondsey—they drove up to the Red Cow on a pony-cart (or barrow), which contained, apparently, 3 empty casks—they got out there, and Johnson came towards the furrier's in the Grange—he stood a moment by the gate, and then went back to Jones, and they drove up to the gate—Johnson took from the gate an empty cask, and put it on the cart—Jones jumped out of the cart to Johnson, and spoke together—they looked at me, and then Jones jumped up again and drove away, and Johnson walked in another direction—I went into Randolf Street, and saw Jones whipping the horse, and when I got near him he jumped from the cart and ran off—I followed, but lost him—I went back, and with another policeman took possession of the cart—the address on it was, "Jones, 10, Waterloo Town, Mile End Road"—I met Johnson the same evening in Mile End Road, and told him I should take him in custody for being concerned with a man who had escaped, and having in their possession 27 seal-skins—I found in the cask 27 seal-skins similar to this (produced), and they were shown to the last witness the following morning—when I took Johnson he said, "You have made a mistake, I was never in Bermondsey; I am not the man, and can prove it"—I found Jones at the police station, with the witness Milbourne, and took him in custody—he said, "This man," pointing to Johnson, "asked me to do this little job"—he said he hired the horse from Milbourne, and the cart belonged to himself—I found the padlock key in Johnson's possession—I asked them both what key it was, and Jones said it was the key of his stable, and I said "It was found in the possession of Johnson"—I went to Jones's stable at a railway arch, Cambridge Heath Road, and opened the door with the key, and found inside, some empty casks, and a sack saturated with oil and salt and hair—the hair was like the seal-skin produced—Jones on the following morning said he bought the casks at Bermondsey that afternoon for 1s. 6d.—the lock at Hibernia Wharf was entirely gone.

Cross-examined by Johnson. You put an empty cask on the cart and Jones jumped down and put on the second—I only saw two, and I saw you walk away—I was not twenty yards away—I ran after Jones to get him with the horse and cart.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. The skins were covered over with matting—there were four casks in the cart—there were two casks in when I got up to it—they were given up to Jones's friends.

GEORGE MILBOURNE . I am a smith, at 1l., Grove Street, Commercial Road East, and let out a pony and cart—on Monday night, 26th May, Jones came and asked me for the pony to put to their cart to do their work, and Johnson brought it home the same night—they had it again next morning, Johnson came first and Jones took it away—they said they wanted it about three hours—Jones came back just before 10 p.m., and said they had met with an accident—I asked him where the pony was; he said over in Bermondsey, and asked if I would go and get his cart—I said 1 could not get that, I wanted my pony, and he said, "Will you come along

with me?"—I drove him to the police-station, where he was detained, and so was I—I saw the pony next day in the Green-yard, Borough.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I never lent Jones the pony before—I knew him by sight as going about dealing in tubs and tea chests.

JAMES MACQUEEN (Policeman M 116). I was with Sergeant Kimber on the 27th and saw the movements of the prisoners, and saw Jones drive off with the cart and jump off the cart and go away, and I took them to the police-station—I found twenty-four skins in the cart covered with a piece of sacking—Kimber went with me to Mile End Road, and took the key which was found on Johnson.

Jones's Statement before the Magistrate. "Last Tuesday morning week I borrowed a pony from Mr. Milbourne. I came back and put it into the barrow, and went out to see if I could do anything. I was there a few minutes, and Mr. Howard came over and said he would give me 3s. for running a few things over the water. I went over. I had to meet him at Dockhead. and I asked Johnson to come with me for a ride—he came—we went down Grange Walk and had a pint of ale. and I asked him to come round the corner to see if there were any empty casks to sell—he said there were three, and I went and put them on the barrow, and I saw Kimber and ran away, as Mr. Howard had told me to do when I saw constables—I went home and told him—he said 'I am 32s. out, what I paid for those skins'—seven men came up, and I thought they were going to eat me—Howard said "I bought those skins, and paid 32s. for them.'"—Johnson's Statement. "I buy empties with the prisoner. I went with him—I did not know what we had was stolen."

GUILTY of larceny only.

JOHNSON further PLEADED GUILTY** to having been previously convicted of felony on 25th August, 1873, at Clerkenwell— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

JONES.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

There was another Indictment against the prisoners.

Reference Number: t18790630-658

658. JEREMIAH PERRY (49), and EDWARD SHARP (42) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Eliza Wilson, with intent to steal.


GEOEGE WINDUS (Policeman W 355). At 3.45 a.m on Thursday, 15tb May, I was on duty at the Chase, and saw Perry come through the area window of 42—I went down to arrest him, when Sharp also came through the window—I turned round and struggled with him, but getting on the steps he had the advantage of me—I drew my truncheon and struck him' twice, once across the back and once across the legs, and he got away—I then arrested Perry and took him to the station, and charged him with burglariously breaking and entering a dwelling-house—he said, "You can't call that breaking, as I got in through the window, which was unlatched '—I found on him a knife which has one blade broken off and made into a screw-driver—I went into the house, and there was a bookcase opened in the room—they could not get through the room, the door being locked on the outside.

Cross-examined by Perry. I saw you come through the window, and you went into the dusthole—I found you under the steps, and I waited till the other constable came.

Cross-examined by Sharp. I saw you there—I recognised you at the station at Staines End with nine other men, and I stated you were dressed similarly, but not in the same cap.

ELIZA WILSON . I live at 42, The Chase, Clapham—on the morning of 15th May I was called by the police-sergeant, and on coming down the area steps I saw the policeman with Perry, who was sitting on the window-sill, and the policeman told me he had arrested him—the window was open—it was shut the night before, but I will not say it was fastened—I found a book-press open in the room which I had locked the night before.

Cross-examined by Perry. The policeman and the sergeant were with you—you told me you had been asleep under the stairs, and you were starving, and had been there to get food, and I said it was a very bad place to go to, as you should have gone to an empty house.

MARY ANN HAYES . I live at Lancaster Street, Blackfriars, and know Perry—he never lodged with me and has not been in my house. Pern/8 Defence. Sharp resembles a man who was in company with me, who had a moustache, a light grey coat, dark grey trousers, and blue coloured waistcoat—this man had been drinking with the woman who has just been in. Sharp's Defence. I am as innocent as a new-born baby—I know nothing more about it than a child.


PERRY further PLEADED GUILTY** to having been previously convicted of felony on 6th April, 1869.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

SHARP— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-659

659. ALFRED HENRY MAY (28) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Walter Home Fullagar the sums of 57. 5s. and 20l., also 7l. from John Kersten, with intent to defraud.


WALTER HORNE FULLAGAR . I am a solicitor at 7, Renfrew Road, Lower Kennington Lane—prior to the 10th March I was ill and unable to attend to my business—the prisoner called at my house on 10th March, but I did not see him—he called again on the 12th Or 13th, and spoke to me about the result of a matter he had in hand in the police-court, and said, "Now, with regard to my attending to the business for you, shall I account to you daily or in what way?" and he said: "All cases that can afford agency I should expect agency in; but the smaller cases I should be happy to do for nothing"—I said, "Certainly not, Mr. May, I shall do nothing of the kind"—I said first of all, "I cannot be troubled with any accounts; I cannot expect you to do my business except upon condition that you receive one-half of all the fees you take at the police-court, be good enough to keep an exact account of what you receive and pay away and then when I am well enough we can see what money there is coming to me'—the next day he sent up 1l. 16s. to me—the conversation took place in my bedroom—on 3rd April I saw him again in my parlour with a client who had instructed me to prosecute a man named Lytton, and I advised him, in May's presence, and a day or so afterwards I asked May what counsel he intended having, as I should like Mr. Besley to lead—he said "I should like to give young Mr. Metcalfe a brief." I said "Certainly." I do not know Mr. Metcalfe, but I should like Mr. Besley to lead; do not mark Mr. Besley's brief, less than seven guineas and two guineas, and do not mark Mr. Metcalfe's brief, if you engage him, less than four and one," and I drew a cheque for £20 and handed it to May—I went out of town for a week, and saw May on 22nd April, on my return—I asked him

how Lytton's matter was going on, and said, "Is there anything more you want to say to me?"—he said "Oh, yes, I shall want some more money in that case of Lytton's." I said "Have you spent all that £20?"—he said "Oh, yes, I had to have several conferences with Besley and Metcalfe, and had to pay them their consultations and the fees on their briefs, and the prosecutors are going on with the indictment in Davis's case; I therefore had to brief Besley and Metcalfe in that as well—I said, "Very well, Mr. May, if you have spent the money properly I bad better give you some more," and, belie ring his statement, I drew and handed him a cheque for £15—on the 22nd April a lady called at my office and from information received I made inquiries as to whether he had been in consultation with Messrs. Besley and Metcalfe, and afterwards saw May at the Middlesex Sessions—I said, "Where are the briefs and papers?"—he said, "I have got them, and I mean to keep them!"—I said, "You had better mind what you are doing. I shall give you until 10 o'clock to-morrow morning, and if you do not hand them over to me by that time you must take the consequences," and next morning I received this (Letter "C"), which is in his handwriting. ("77, Chancery Lane, 23rd April, 1879, Reg. v. Lytton, and several prosecutions. I will be at your place with papers, &c., and list of items of expenditure tomorrow at 10.30. You will no doubt, with your usual sense of propriety and professional honour, feel it just to make me some substantial remuneration, in lieu of agency, for the care and labour bestowed on this case in now bringing it to an issue: I shall be happy to afford you every information respecting any other matter I may have been concerned in. I shall, however, have to adopt the ordinary means of protecting myself against the results of your threats. Notwithstanding the effect of the statements of the plausible widow, whose claim (especially under the circumstances) would have been settled long ago, if just, and whom you sent up by my discharged clerk simply to annoy me, I have the satisfaction of believing you will, on inquiry, credit me with having treated you and regarded your interests in a gentlemanly and conscientious way. As you referred to the subject, I may inform you, if it interests you, that, believing it to be the duty of a man (if it be possible) to have his wife under his own roof, arrangements are now being made to this end. How often does it happen in life that when one is in the act of retrieving the past, that past comes or ward in some shape or other, and prevents his accomplishing the ends desired. This portion of my letter is written aurente catarne, and I trust to your honour to let it remain private. Yours'truly, Alfred H. May.") The next day, the 24th, before I had received that letter, he came to my office and handed me Lytton's papers—I said "Now, where is the money?"—he said, "Oh, what money?"—I said "That 5l. you got. from me"—he said "Oh! that's a matter of account"—I had not then seen the briefs—I said "A matter of account! What do you mean? I handed you first 20l. and then 15l. for that special purpose, I want to know what you have done with it"—he said "Oh! that is a matter of account"—I said "I do not understand what you mean by a matter of account; I want to know what you have done with that money which you obtained from me for that sole purpose"—I said "There is the money you have taken since you have been here, and I have not received that"—he said "That is a matter of arrangement"—I said "That is enough. Go

away"—he said "Will you let me make out a statement?"—I said "You can do what you like, so long as you go out of my office," and he made out a statement and brought it to me—I said "How dare you make out this, and call this a statement? I know nothing about this. Have you got the money? Are you going to hand me over the money?"—he said "No, I have not got it"—I subsequently gave him notice and took proceedings against him before Mr. Chance.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I have seen you at the Thames Police Court once—I cannot say I have known you as a Criminal and County Court advocate, but I have heard you were—I have not heard that you have practised your profession with success in the advocacy department, but quite the contrary—that did not induce me to enter into an arrangement with you to conduct my criminal cases—I have gained the information since I had you—probably I said before the Magistrate, "On the 10th March, in consequence of my illness, I was obliged to get some one to superintend my business, and the prisoner called at my house and offered to give me some assistance. I spoke to him and told him I should be very happy to have his assistance, and said, 'I am afraid it will interfere too much with your business.' He said, 'No; my partner Lewis can attend to that'"—I am not pasitive whether it was the 10th or 12th—you first called on the 10th, but I believe I did not see you till the 12th; but I have the papers here, and can show you—I did not say it was on the 10th—you called on the 10th, and transacted the first business for me on the 10th, but I think it was the 12th I first saw you—on the 12th I sent to Sergeant 'n wood to say that Mr. May would attend to all my cases—you attended to some cases on the Monday before I saw you.

By the COURT. Serjeant In wood, is the summoning officer of the Lambeth Police Court—when parties called at the Court to see me when 1 was ill he would be obliged to tell them—the police do not interfere.

By the Prisoner. I swore before the Magistrates: "A few days afterwards he came up himself into my bedroom—that was the first time I met you, and it was then this conversation took places—there was no one present—I was in bed—Mr. Hambro, Cashier to Cross, Sons, and Riley, Solicitors, was in my room when the instructions came in the Queen v. Lytton, and Mr. Purver was there—he was the nominal prosecutor in the case—this (produced) is my handwriting. (Copy. "To Mr. Purver. 5th April, 1879. Dear Sir. Reg. v. Lytton. Felony. I hereby acknowledge that although you have instructed me to prosecute the above-named person for felony at the ensuing Middlesex Sessions, I do not hold you personally liable for the costs of that prosecution. Walter H. Fullagar.")

By the COURT. I should have got my costs from my clients direct, Messrs. Cross, Sons, and Riley—Mr. Purver was obliged to be the prosecutor, because he was the administrator of his late sister—Mr. Purver was a poor man, and could not stand the expenses, and would not have allowed his name to be given as prosecutor if I had not told him he would not be liable for the costs.

By the Prisoner. Hambro did not tell me in your presence that a gentleman of property, a client of Cross, Sons, and Riley had, instructed them to find out some person to prosecute Lytton—it is not a fact that when I placed Hambro in your bands to conduct this prosecution, I informed you that Hambro's employers, Cross, Sons, and Riley, had a country client

who for certain reasons guaranteed the expenses of the prosecution—Mr. Hambro asked me what I thought the cost of the prosecution would be, and whether 25l. would cover it, and my answer was, Yes, I thought it would; and you answered "Yes, a great deal can be done for 25l."—I cannot say that the expenses of the prosecution are being paid by a client of Cross, Sons, and Riley—I cannot say who in fact did pay—I do not know who the real prosecutor is—I have my instructions from Cross, Sons, and Riley, and have seen no one else except Mr. Purver—I did not tell you the reasons why the real prosecutor should be undiscovered—I did not know myself—I did not inquire—Lytton was already in custody upon charges of misdemeanour, and this case, which was to be heard on the following Monday at the Middlesex Sessions, was a further charge—I cannot say whether you had an immense deal of work to do in procuring evidence for the further indictment—I have every reason to know you did not do it—I received one or two letters from you—I may have remarked to my son," May is indeed energetic about these things: he was up last Sunday night till one o'clock"—I thought you were doing your duty—I do not admit that you prepared the evidence and compiled two briefs and statements; you did not do it—you handed something to Mr. Besley—I have the brief here—the outside sheet is impounded, and attached to the depositions—I admit you handed something you called a brief, and which was marked as a brief, but it is not what I call a brief, it was a skeleton—I am not continuing that prosecution against Lytton—I am continuing a prosecution against him in the next Court for forgery—I am indemnifying the expenses of the prosecution—Purser is not paying, he is only a poor man—Messrs, Cross instruct me, and I look to them for payment—I do not know who they look to—I do not recollect your saying that you were doubtful whether "it was a proper course to pursue, and not a course you would yourself pursue—no mention was made of the remuneration you were to receive—it was one of the matters that came into the office, and had you attended to that properly you would have received an equal share of the costs with myself, as in any other business—I might have said, "There is no necessity to pay Mr. Besley, my name at the bottom of any brief is good enough"—that might have been when I gave you the 20l., but I believe it was a week afterwards, when I came from Ayling Island—at the time I advanced the 5l. I knew that Lytton's case bad been to the Sessions, and you told me you had had these consultations with Mr. Besley and Mr. Metcalfe, and that it bad been adjourned—I was not at the Sessions—I know now that at the time the 15l. was advanced the case had been to the Sessions, and the briefs handed to counsel, and fees paid, and everything done so far—I cannot say that you had done all that was necessary to bring it to the Sessions and have it adjourned—it was adjourned—I did not know, as a matter of fact, that, having gone so far with the case, you had expended money in divers other expenses for witnesses, conduct money, subpoenas, cabs, etc., besides counsels' fees; I naturally supposed it—you told me you had, and I believed you—you told me that, in addition, you were instructed by my clients to prepare a further indictment against Lytton—I do not know it now as a fact—I know there was an indictment—I know only that I have had to pay all the fees to counsel—you never paid a penny fee—you drew an indictment, and as a true bill

was found I suppose you went before the Grand Jury, and no doubt in this farther case you went that far—I cannot say that I had advanced the 15l. before that was done—I advanced it on 22nd April, but do not know when the bill, went before the Grand Jury, I never inquired—I remarked that if you had spent the money "I had better give you another cheque for 15l.," and you said, "Well, I should think 10l. would be enough;" I said, "No, you had better have one for 15l. if you have paid all that money away"—I understood from you that you had paid other expenses; you must have spent money in other costs besides counsels' fees; you cannot go about in a cab or an omnibus without spending other money—you did not tell me you had expended the whole of the money in counsels' fees and consultations—when I advanced the 15l.I dare say you supposed I was going into the country the next day—I told you so and I meant to go, and it is quite possible you would have carried on Lytton's case in my absence, and at the late you were going you might have required 500l.—the costs in the case will come to quite 500l.—I did no doubt swear before the Magistrates "The case of Lytton was of a very hurried character, and being hurried may increase the expenses"—the lady, Mrs. Hodges, came on the 23rd, the day after you had the 15l.—you were at the Middlesex Sessions, but I do not know what you were engaged in—when you came back I heard what Mrs. Hodges said to you, and I asked you whether you could answer it—she had nothing to do with Lytton's case—I was not drinking with her—I believe she had some spirits and a biscuit—I did not know her till my housekeeper introduced her to me, amd I told the housekeeper to let her have what she wanted, some biscuits and a sandwich—this is my handwriting; I sent it on 25th April; I sent it to you the day after the interview. (Read: "6, Renfrew Road, Lower Kennington Lane, London, S.E. 25th April, 1879. Sir, From what I am obliged to hear almost hourly I am quite convinced that you intended to feloniously misappropriate the 15l. you obtained from me on the 22nd instant, under the pretence and assertion that you had expended the 20l. I advanced you a few days before in counsels' fees and other payments out of pocket in the case against Lytton, and for which the money was solely and expressly advanced. This statement I now find to be utterly false, but I do not like to apply for a warrant against you without first informing you of my intention to do so next Monday before Mr. Chance. Yours obediently, Walter H. Fullagar. Mr. May, Solicitor, 77, Chancery Lane.")—a warrant was issued on Monday, May 1st.

By the COURT. A summons could not have been obtained; it might possibly.

By the Prisoner. I know you said your office was 77, Chancery Lane, and it is in the Law List—my only reason for speak ing of you as absconding in the information was that you were not at your office, and I tried to find you—I believe you were apprehended in London—in accordance with your letter of the 23rd you came to me next morning, about 10 or a little later, and Mr. Hambro was with me—the case was to come on again—I do not know if it was the following day—you brought the papers and put them down on my desk, but I cannot say what observation you made—I was waiting for the papers—you went into the back office and came back again in about 15 minutes and handed me this account (Headed "Items of Expenditure re Lyitom; and containg details of'counsels'fees, cab fares, &c., total 19l. 0s. 6d.,

and on the same sheet a supplemental account of 4l. 15s. 4d.)—you handed me that account and all the papers—you may have done that work.

By the COURT. I do not dispute or deny that he has paid those moneys—I admit that he has, but the 20l. was solely for Lytton's case—the supple mental bill he makes out of 4l. 15s. has nothing to do with Mr. Besley's case.

By the Prisoner. When you gave me the account you said something about having marked the items alphabetically, referring to the lists of items on the backs of the papers, and that I should find all the items by referring to the letters—I cannot say whether you wrote the items in pencil at the time—you have had no opportunity of writing them since I have had it, and they were upon it when I received it—when I advanced the first 20l. you had money of mine amounting to 40l., and the 15l. made about 60l.—the other sums were a matter of account—they were received by you, to be accounted for to me as a matter of account—the one set of sums were received from clients on account, but this was money received from me—the money was only half mine—you did not ask me if I was perfectly satisfied, and I did not say, "I suppose I must be"—I think I said, "How dare you hand me such an account as this?"—you said before the Magistrate, "If you cannot treat me like a gentleman I cannot manage any further business for you"—you made some remark about calling on Monday or Tuesday, and I told you never to come near my house again.

HENRY WILLIAM LOCKYER . I am clerk to Mr. Besley, Mr. Besley was retained for the prosecution in the Queen v. Lytton by May, and I received 5l. 15s. Od. fees—that is all I have received from May, I had no other consultations from him.

Cross-examined. I have known you some time, and this is not the first brief you have handed me—you paid me the 5l. 15s. Od. on the adjournment at the Court, and I presume you knew there would bean adjournment and further fees to pay—I hardly think you have paid similar fees before—you have paid larger fees—it was 3 guineas and a consultation—I saw you afterwards with Mr. Hambro outside Mr. Besley's chambers, but do not know whether you saw him—I believe you did, and had a conversation—I have the fees, but the other clerk books the attendances—the fees booked were inclusive of the 5l. 15s. Od,—the other consultations were booked to Mr. Fullagar—I believe you had only the consultation on the brief; the others were by Mr. Fullagar and Mr. Hambro—the special consultation you had was subsequent to the adjournment.

By MR. WILLIAMS. He never paid me more than the one consultation marked on the brief.

By the COURT. I entered it as "May's matter "as though he were the Solicitor, and afterwards in Mr. Fullagar's name—they were entered in the day-book when I returned to the office as "Mr. W. May paid Mr. Besley's fee "so and so, and then afterwards "Mr. Fullagar."

RICHARD NORTH . I am Mr. Metcalfe's clerk—on the 9th April at the Middlesex Sessions, May handed me a brief—I asked him what he was going to mark—he said three guineas—I said, "You mean three and one," and he said, "Mr. Fullagar said I was not to give you more than three"—I said, "Then, being two counsel in the case, we must have consultation," and he said "Put down two and one"—he paid me, and I initialled the brief and dated it—I had no other fee at all.

Cross-examined. Two guineas and a "con "would be a proper fee to mark when the senior has three and a "con"—you told me you had to draw an indictment and present it to the brand Jury yourself after Mr. Metcalfe had drawn the indictment—on your paying me for the brief I said "There's the fee for drawing the indictment"—you said, "Oh, I've had to do it over again, and I cannot give you the fee"—you have given me several briefs before—you saw Mr. Metcalfe personally.

WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Police Inspector L). On 5th May I received a warrant for May's apprehension, and went to his office, but could not find him—I searched for him till Saturday night, 24th May, when I saw him in Chippendale Road—I said, "I have a warrant for your apprehension for obtaining money from Mr. Fullagar;" he said, "Oh dear, yes, Mr. Chamberlain. It is a very unfortunate affair. I gave a friend of mine, Mr. Lewis, a cheque twice to settle the matter, and I am afraid he has not done so; if you had not taken me, I was thinking of giving myself up. I have come over from the country on purpose to do so"—on taking him in custody he gave me two pieces of paper, saying, "These papers refer to Lytton's case, and belong to Mr. Fullagar."

JOHN KERSTEN . I keep the White Swan, 225, High Street, Shadwell—on July 20th I had a case on, and this claim was made for 20l. 8s. 6d., and I considered I owed only 6l.—I saw May respecting it, and showed him this letter I had received the same day from the plaintiff's Solicitors. (Read: "32, Mark Lane, London, E.C., 24th July, 1878. Sir,—We are instructed by Messrs. Murrow and Holt, of 18, City Road, Finsbury, to apply to you for payment of 20l. 12s., amount of account rendered. Unless we receive this sum, with 6s. 8d. for our charges, by 10 o'clock on Friday morning next, we shall at once proceed to recover same. Yours obediently, Keene & Marsland. F. Harris." May said, "It was foolish of you to have offered him the 6l., because, as he did into fulfil the contract, you had nothing to pay; but now you have offered him the 6l. you will have to pay it"—and so I gave him the 6l. to pay it into Court—he called on me about three weeks afterwards, and said, "We can't settle the affair in any other way; we shall have to go to the Lord Mayor's Court;" and he wanted 7l., and I gave it him, as he said he had engaged Mr. Besley to plead for me—he gave me no receipt, he only marked it on one of the papers in his pocket. (Paper marked "C": "7l. paid on account.") I saw him subsequently in September at my place, and I asked him how the affair was going on, and he said it was put back for the Long Vacation—I did not see him again—he did not appear for me, and the end of it was, I found the brokers in the house on the 31st October for 37l. 14s., and I had to pay them out.

Cross-examined. The 6l. was paid into Court—it has not come to my knowledge that it was paid into Court at the proper time, but that on account of the plea not having been delivered by your clerk in proper time the other side signed judgment—the 7l. was advanced to pay Mr. Besley—I recollect your telling him you were en leave ring to settle the matter with Keene and Marsland, and if you had settled it for 10l. I should have been satisfied—you did not tell me you had offered Keene and Marsland 10l. to settle, and I know nothing of it—I gave you full discreation as Solicitor to act for me—I saw Mr. Beck, Solicitor, and told him where to find you, and he said he would write you a letter, but I do not know whether he has been in correspondence with you.

By the COURT. I was not asked by any one to prosecute—I wrote to Mr. Fullagar when I saw it in the paper.

ALBERT SPIEGELBATER .—I am a watchmaker at 62, The Mount, WhiteChapel Road, Mr. Kersten is a friend of mine—I remember being in his house about the middle of August, when May, in my presence, asked him for 7l., and said he had engaged Mr. Besley, and had to pay him the money—no receipt was given.

Cross-examined. I was there till you went away, sitting opposite you in the bar parlour—I came through the bar—I did not see you write the receipt produced, and nothing more was said than what I have stated—you did not remain long after you had the money—I was first asked the week before last to come forward as a witness—I did not think anything more of it, but I recollected well enough after I was told—I was surprised to see in the papers that criminal proceedings were being taken against you, but I did not think anything of it then.

HENRY WILLIAM LOCKYER (Re-examined). I did not receive 7l. or any money in respect of an action against Kersten in the Lord Mayor's Court, and Mr. Besley was not instructed in the matter at all.

Cross-examined. You had cases with me about that time—I should have recollected if you had said, 'I may want you for other cases in the Mayor's Court," but I should not recollect if you said, "I shall want you for another case shortly."

Witnesses for the Defence.

HENRY HAMBRO . I am cashier to Messrs. Cross, Sons, and Riley, Waterloo Place—on 3rd April I-called on Mr. Fullagar and gave him instructions to proceed with a fresh indictment in Lytton's case—he said he had not been very well and had got a gentleman attending to his business who would conduct the case in his absence, and he called you in and introduced you—Mr. Purver was present, and it was arranged that I should put myself in your hands, and you were to conduct the case—it was an Ordinary case; I cannot say what interest our client took in it—it was necessary, the time being short, for us to go about every night for witnesses, and we went about a good deal to gather materials for the case—we were going about and spending money—you made pencil notes which 1 believed to be items of expenditure in the case, but I did not examine them, and during the whole time we were together you paid all the expenses—I had not to pay; it was not a matter I could expend money in—you attended diligently to the case, and to the best of my recollection when you left the case you had all the witnesses before the Grand Jury in the second indictment in Davis's case, when Mr. Fullagar came up in a rage at the Court the day the case was coming on—I cannot remember how many adjournments had taken place—I was present on the 23rd when you handed Mr. Fullagar the papers—Mr. Fullagar appeared to say as little as he could—he was certainly out of temper at the Sessions House but not then—I heard you offer to make out an account, which you did in the adjoining room—I have tried but cannot remember complete sentences of what was said—I recollect him saying something to this effect: "Even those figures would show that you have not accounted for about 12l.," and I think you said "Very well;" and I remember you saying there would be some remuneration due to you for what you had done for him.

Cross-examined. I decline to say who our client was in prosecuting Lytton.

THOMAS KEENE . I am a member of the firm of Keene, Sons, and Marsland, Solicitors—I was instructed in the case of Murrow. v. Kersten—you attended at my office, and a correspondence took place between us—you offered 10l. without costs in settlement of the case, which declined—you elected to fight the case and paid the money into Court—judgment was signed on the 16th October, and the plea was not sent to my office till the 17th, which was too late—had the plea been dlivered on the proper day, or a day after, I should not have signed judgment.


Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18790630-660

660. THOMAS CONNOR (31), and ELIZABETH CONNOR (19) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Robert Taylor, and stealing 4 coats, 1 scarf, and 1 clock, his property.

MR. F. READ conducted the Prosecution.

JAMES WALSH (Police Sergeant M). On 26th May, about 11.30 p.m., I was in Red Cross Street, and saw the prisoners—the man had a coat on his arm, which he threw across is shoulders—I spoke to a constable, and then followed them to Harrow Street, where I got hold of them both, and the woman threw this clock down (produced)—I said "What about this coat?"—he said, "A man gave it to me to carry"—I said I didn't believe it—I took them to the station—the woman lifted her clothes up and, took out a coat, and said, "You may as well have this as well"—the man was wearing three coats, which he said were his own—Mr. Taylor came and identified the things—I afterwards examined his premises, and found them broken into by some blunt instrument from the back, and this lock taken off (produced)—it is broken—I found in one of the coats a scarf, which the male prisoner claimed, but the prosecutor identified it.

Cross-examined by Thomas Connor. I have known you 8 or 9 years—a man did not run up when I took you, nor did I push him back—you did not say, "Serjeant, that is the man that gave me the things"—there were about 100 people round us—I have said what happened—you threatened the prosecutor that if he appeared against you you would put him away, for receiving stolen property.

By the COURT. I have known the prisoners some time—they told me that they are man and wife. (The female prisoner here produced her marriage certificate.)

ROBERT TAYLOR . I am a bricklayer, of 74, Red Cross Street, Borough—on Monday, 26th May, about 11 p.m., I was in my bedroom—the window and door were then safe, and the back-kitchen door also—I have Known the female prisoner for years as a customer—I went down into the parlour about 11.30, and missed this timepiece off the shelf—I then looked and found the back door open—I also missed a coat, a cord jacket, a. sleeve waistcoat, and a wrapper—I identify them all—there were seven or eight marks on the door.

GEORGE HARVEY (Police Sergeant N). I was with Walsh, and saw the prisoner in Disney Street—I saw the female prisoner throw a clock away—I took her to the station.

Cross-examined by Thomas Connor. She threw it down when I caught hold of her, and then sat down—I had to take my truncheon out to keep the crowd from me—you said, "Don't hurt her, sergeant."

Thomas Connor's Defence. A man said, "I have got some things to sell." I said, "I will have nothing to do with it, Tom" He asked me to hold a jacket while he went to get some tobacco, and I said, "Hold that, Lis;" before we got to to the tobacco-shop the detective got hold of me; I said, "That is the man who gave me the things; why don't you take him? he said, "Because I did not see him do anything."

THOMAS CONNOR— GUILTY , He was further charged with a previous conviction at Southward in January, 1879, to which he

PLEADED GUILTY.**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.


Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18790630-661

661. JAMES SULLIVAN (19) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession with intent to utter.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18790630-662

662. ALFRED PATTERSON (35), ARTHUR WORKMAN (47), RICHARD JONES (44), and EMMA WORKMAN (45) , Unlawfully conspiring together, and with others, to commit a burglary in the dwelling house of Walter Maudsley and others, with intent to steal.

MESSES. MONTAGU WILLIAMS and CAVENDISH BENTINCKE conducted the Prosecution; MR. FULTON Defended Jones.

JAMES HARDING . I am a prisoner awaiting sentence in the Wandsworth House of Correction—I have Known Patterson about 16 months—I first saw him in March, 1878 at Workman's house, 42, Stafford Street, High Street, Peckham, and was introduced to him by Workman at my lodgings, 14, Cork Street, Camberwell, early in May, 1878—Workman told me that Patterson was his brother-in-law—I had previously had a conversation with Workman about Maudsley's—he said, "J will use my influence with Pat, who is my brother-in-law, that you shall take Old George's place"—Old George was George Fossitt, who used to lodge at Workman's—Old George was to have taken the outside and Workman the inside part to rob Messrs. Maudsley's of two bags of money, which was taken from the Bank and deposited in a large safe, or strong room, every Friday night to pay the men's wages on Saturday morning—Workman and Patterson told me that the premises could be entered by climbing a low portico in front, about six or seven feet high, and on to the roof of the offices about four feet higher, and then, by going down some steps, or slanting roof into the yard, to enter at the back by a small circular window leading to the model-room, and then by opening one of the doors into the passage access would be got to the whole of the place—I had subsequent conversations at different tirnes with Patterson and Workman—I used to see them nearly every Sunday at my lodgings or Workman's, and sometimes in the streets—our conversation was generally about Maudsley's premises, and the robbery—before introducing Patterson Workman had mentioned the keys to me, and promised to introduce Patterson to show them to me—Patterson showed me the keys in Workman's presence and said they were the keys that would do the place where the money was kept—he said the money was kept in a small wooden cupboard in one of the strong rooms which opened into the passage with a thumb-spring—he said there were two safes, one contained petty cash and the other the wages money—he showed me two

keys—I had seen one of the keys being manufactured at Workman's by Fossitt from impressions taken in wax by Patterson—Patterson told me he could get impressions of any of Maudsley's keys—he said the amount of money on the premises on Friday nights varied from 1500l. to 2000l. and sometimes over—Workman told me be went out with Fossitt on Easter Monday to a Volunteer Review at Staines Common and Fossitt got into trouble about some housebreaking affair, and he (Workman) escaped—Patterson was introduced to me by Workman as "Mr. Baker, the party I spoke to you about to take Old George's place"—Workman called him "Pat"—that was at the Red Cap publichouse Camberwell Green—Workman said he had been and had a view of Maudsley's place and his wife went with him, and that they tried the keys and found they would do, and it was arranged I should take the outside part instead of Fossitt, and that a cabman named Gurney should have a cab waiting outside on the night of the robbery and take the money away to Patterson's house—it was to be divided into three parts, Workman and his wife taking one part, Patterson another, and myself another, but I was to give Fossitt 100l. or 150l. out of my share when he came out of prison—the month of November last was fixed for carrying out the scheme—I continually saw Workman and Patterson up to September last—when Workman, a man named Rogers, and myself, broke into some premises in the Old Kent Road and Workman was caught. I was the outside man in that case—I kept out of the way and did not see Patterson again till the first week in November, when I went to see him—Workman was still in custody—I said to Patterson, "Has Workman said anything about this affair, or have you seen anything at Maudsley's to lead you to suppose there is any suspicion?" he said, "No; all things are going on as usual. I have not observed anything. Can you get another man to assist you in carrying out the robbery in place of Workman?" I said, "Yes, I can"—I had prior to this known Jones—he visited me at my lodgings several times—I told him that Maudsley's affair was on and proposed he should assist, and I subsequently introduced him to Patterson on Saturday night, November 16th, at the Elephant and Castle—Jones said to Patterson, "Are you still willing to carry out this affair, and have you been talking to any one else except the persons named?" meaning Fossitt and Workman; Patterson said, "No. No one knows anything of it except the persons that were mentioned"—Jones asked him a few more questions about the place; if he was sure the amount of money was there, and so on, and then said, "I'll assist"—I knew at that time William Chandler and his wife, of Waterloo Street, Camberwell Park—T had previously lodged with them at 14, Cork Street, and Patterson had visited me there several times, and Workman came a great many times—on several occasions we wore all there together—Jones has been there to see me—at Workman's house Mrs. Workman was always present, taking a part in the conversation when we spoke about Maudsley's—I went down to Slough with Jones on 8th March, and we were taken into custody and convicted—I was sentenced to 12 months' imprisonment for the Slough affair—I am waiting sentence for the old Kent Road burglary.

Cross-examined by Arthur Workman. The keys were not shown me in Stafford Street—I saw one of them, the large key, being manufactured there by Fossitt. They were shown to me at the Red Cap tavern after wards; not in your house.

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I am giving this information in the interests of public justice—I did not plead guilty to the Old Kent Road burglary—I gave this information after my conviction—I had previously told the detective that if I was convicted I could give them valuable information, and if not convicted I might not have given the information—3 convictions of felony were proved against me at the Surrey Sessions, on 6th May—I was convicted at Slough under the Prevention of Criminals Act, as an habitual criminal, and 2 previous convictions were proved against me—Mrs. Chandler was present at my conversation with Jones, bat I do not know whether she heard it—I heard her examined at the Southwark Police Court—she said she did not hear the conversation—I am not aware that any one was present at the conversation between Patterson, Jones, and myself, at the Elephant and Castle—it was at the public refreshment bar.

Cross-examined by Emma Workman. I saw you at your house in conversation with Patterson and your husband—I did not tell the police of this because you gave evidence against me.

By the COURT. Mrs. Workman was a witness against me in the Old Kent Road burglary case.

WILLIAM CHANDLER . I am undergoing penal servitude in Pentonville Prison—I was sentenced at the Surrey Sessions, April 9th, 1879, and had been in Wandsworth Prison from 5th November, 1877, to 3rd August, 1878—I knew Patterson seven or eight years ago—I did not know him personally, but a man named Charles Wells, of Camberwell, showed him to me—I have known Workman and his wife for some years—the witness Harding lodged in the name of Baker at 14, Cork Street, and he was lodging there in August, 1878—I have not seen Baker at my house in company with either of the other prisoners except Workman—Workman has been there hundreds of times, and visited Harding (or Baker) there a good many times—Baker and I were out housebreaking together almost daily—about the middle of August, 1878, I saw Patterson and Workman talking together at the Station Tavern, Beresford Street, Walworth Road, but I did not hear what they said—when we came away Workman said, "Do you know that party?" I said, "I have seen him before;" he said, "That's Pat, my brother-in-law. That's the party that's putting up the place in Westminster Bridge Road"—"putting up "a place means to commit a burglary Or robbery—Baker, Workman, and Dowthwaite, alias Rogers, were all out housebreaking together last year—Baker is the cleverest man—I have five or six times heard Baker and Workman, at my place, talking about Maudsley's place, Westminster Bridge Road, and concocting how to do it—I met Workman by the Crown, London Road, coming from Waterloo, about the middle of August—I said, "Hallo! Arthur. What's yer game?" he said, "I have just been down to see Pat." We went inside and had something to drink, and he said, "I've just been down and fetched these from him," showing me two keys, one a pipe key and the other not—I did not notice, I was a disinterested party—I said, "Is there two safes, Arthur?" and he said, "Yes, sometimes they put the money in one and sometimes in the other, so, to make sure we have had two made"—I said, "Well, if you open them with keys, Arthur, they will think it is some one about the place"—he said, "Pat will leave a few weeks before the job comes off, and they won't suspect him"—in August

Workman asked me to lend him 57. till November and he would give me 10l. for it, as he should have a fortune then—I said, "I have not got it," and offered to stand for a loan for him—the loan was for 10l., and we each had half—on a Monday or Tuesday night towards the end of August I went through Addington Squire, Camberwell, with Workman, and we met Patterson there, and went back to the Anchor and Hope and had something to drink, and they talked for a few minutes, and then Patterson went towards Peckham, and Workman and myself towards Camberwell—later in August I was going to the Strand with my pony and cart I have been a baker for 22 years, collecting sweepings and stale sacks from bakers, and kept a pony and cart—I was at 14, Cork Street, and offered to give Baker a ride to Pimlico—just before starting Workman came in and said, "I might at well go with you"—when we got to Westminster Bridge Road opposite a chapel near Oakley Street, he said, "Stop there, Bill; that's the place we are going to do,' pointing to a place with a coat of arms over it painted white—there was a wall about eight feet high, where they said they were going to get over to do it; and then on three or four occasions afterwards, after Workman had got into trouble, Baker had a look at the place when I gave him a ride—Baker often came in an afternoon or evening and said, "I must go round and see Patterson and his wife, and if the job comes off right I'll give Mrs. Workman 50l. out of my corner, the others could give what they liked"—I knew Dowthwaite—Workman four or five times said, "Don't take any notice to Bob, as we don't want him to know, because we don't want to give him any of it; we only want to keep it between three, Patterson, me, and Baker"—that was after Fossitt had got into trouble—Fossitt made the keys, and when he got into trouble Baker was introduced into the case.

Cross-examined by Patterson. I never spoke to you in my life, but have seen you three or four times—last August I saw you once at the Station Tavern, and once at the Anchor—I had no appointment with you, and did not speak to you—Wells pointed you out as a relation of Workman's.

Cross-examined by Arthur Workman. You showed me two keys in the Crown—nobody else was with us—I know of no reason but for bravado——you have showed them to Teddy Paine, another convict—I did not expect to take any part in the burglary.

By the COURT. I have known Workman since he came home from penal servitude—Fossitt was caught housebreaking last Whitsuntide twelve-months, and then Workman introduced Baker, because he knew he was a clever burglar, and but for my wife Baker would not have been here to-day.

ANN CHANDLER . I am wife of William Chandler, the last witness, and live at 15, Aylesbury Street, Walworth—I formerly lived at 14, Cork Street—Harding lodged there—I knew him as Baker—my husband was then a prisoner for nine months—Patterson has been at my house with Workman and wife, and by himself—he generally came on Sundays alone to see Baker—he came once with Workman to see my husband before he went away, and once with Baker when he was away—I remember him coming one Sunday, and asking if Baker was at home—I said, "No, he is out; have you a message to leave?"—he said, "No, I will see him in the week"—he left, and I saw no more of him—I had heard Workman and Baker talking together—Workman never told me anything about a job he had in

November, but I heard what he said to Baker—that was before my husband returned, between April, when Fossitt fell, up to August—Workman said, "I don't know what I shall do now Old George has fell. I have a very good job in hand; if I give it to you will you give Old George half your corner when he comes home?"—he said, "Oh, yes"—after August I heard Workman say to my husband, "I can't think why Baker keeps away from our house, as we have a very good job in hand in November at Mr. Maudsley's, with Patterson"—I have seen Dowthwaite at our house—I have seen wax of a slatish colour in Workman's possession, and saw the impression of a key, which they said was a safe key—I have seen Davis, the other prisoner, twice—he came to see Baker about twice in my parlour, but I was not in the room.

Cross-examined by Patterson. I was taken into custody with my husband on the same charge, and on a second charge of receiving stolen property in my husband's absence—I was in prison some time, and was acquitted—my husband was convicted—you came once to my house, and saw me alone with my child.

Cross-examined by Arthur Workman. No one else but myself was present when you had the conversation with Baker in my back room—I cannot tell what day of the week it was—it was quite 9 months ago.

Cross-examined by MR. FULTON. I heard nothing that was said.

ROBERT ROGERS . I sometimes go by the name of Dowthwaite—I was convicted with Workman at the Surrey Sessions for housebreaking on 15th October, 1878, and am now undergoing penal servitude at Pentonville—I know George Fossitt as a lodger of Workman's, and Patterson as Workman's brother-in-law—I have had conversations with Fossitt about a burglary in Westminster Bridge Road, but he did not mention Maudsley's—at the end of January, 1878, he showed me a blank key, and told me that he and Workman had a good job on—I have heard Fossitt and Work man talking the matter over together—they said the key was made at Workman's house and took two days to make, and it fitted the safe it was intended to open—Fossitt told me that there was about 2,000l. in the safe—I told him I should not let that die a natural death, and he said, "I should think not; it's something worth attending to"—I called on him frequently at Workman's house, and Mrs. Workman generally opened the door, and was present at several conversations—on Whit Sunday Workman and his wife and Patterson were in the parlour—as Patterson left to go home to dinner he said to the Workmans, "Now, remember your promise; for if you miss this chance of seeing it you won't get another '—I went again on the Wednesday, and I talked about being caught in the rain on Whit-Monday, and Workman said they were in the same predicament coming from Westminster Bridge—I said, "Well, did you see what you went to see?" he said—"We saw it all"—I said, "You know where to go and put your hand on it now?" and he said, "Yes, I can find it blindfolded"—after that he got a situation for the purpose of doing it, and I went round to his house on a Tuesday morning when he had been there a little over a week, and Mrs. Workman said he had been in on the Sunday and wanted to see me very particularly—she said, "There's something up there for you," pointing to a picture on the wall, and I found two pieces of wax at the top of the frame—she said, "You are to make them, and I am to take them down to-morrow"—I said, "I can't make keys from these; they

arc damaged; you had better take the wax down again to-morrow, and let him take them afresh"—she went down on Wednesday, and I called on Thursday, and again on Friday morning—Workman lost his situation at Aldershot after being there 9 or 10 days—I made another key for another safe job we had on—Mrs. Workman showed it to Patterson in my presence—she said she liked to handle those sort of things, and Patterson said it was like a key that fitted theirs, but neater made—Workman told me Fossitt had got three months—I said, "He won't be in time to do the affair you have on," Maudsley's—He said, "We'll put Baker into it"—I said, "You don't mean to push Old George out of it altogether?"—he said, "No; we have arranged to allow him so much out of each of our corners; I dare say it will be about a cent."—that is 100l.—six of us proposed to go to Staines on Easter Monday, but only Fossitt and Workman went, and Fossitt fell, and Workman got away—"fell" means he was caught.

Cross-examined by Arthur Workman. Only Mrs. Workman was present when she showed me the impressions of the cash box keys you left to be given to me to make, and she only was present when you told me you had been to the place and could find it blindfolded—the police came to see me at Pentonville, and said they had heard I knew something about the intended burglary, and asked me if I would give evidence in this case; I asked if I should get any benefit, and they said they could not promise anything or hold out any inducement.

WILLIAM BROWN . I am a labourer, at 1, Garden Row, London Road—in May last I was sent to Wandsworth Gaol for a month—Workman was in the next cell, and spoke to me on many occasions while going to chapel or out in the exercise ground—he asked me to take a message to a Mrs. Clark, 104, Warner Road, when I got out, and to tell her the "Coppers," Hunt and Chamberlain, had been, and he was sorry "Pat" had "fell;" they wanted him (Workman) to come up and give evidence against Pat, but he told them he knew nothing about it, and they went away very cross—Workman asked me to go his wife, 14, Bath Place, Addington Square, Camherwell, and tell her the Coppers had been about Maudsley's job, and she must keep her "guts" what she knew about it, and that he had told the Coppers he had been with her to Maudsley's 18 months ago to look at the models while the clerks were in the country.

Cross-examined by Arthur Workman. I have been convicted of felony once before—your wife was not at Bath Place, and I went to her at Camberwell Workhouse as you told me, but did not give her the message; she said, "Come down to-night"—I gave Mrs. Clark the message—I went to Carter Street and gave information that you had given me a message to your wife that she was not to give information to the police if they came that you had been to Maudsley's to see the keys—a man stopped me and said I should be well paid if I did not give information against you—the police summoned me to come here—I do not know if I shall be paid as a witness—I was fetched to the police-court.

Cross-examined by Emma Workman. I told you at Camberwell I had a message from your husband, and he was very sorry Pat had fell—I did not go down at night.

Re-examined. The man I met in the street had a black moustache, and was with Mrs. Workman—he touched me on the shoulder and said, "You have just come out of 'stir,' haven't you?"—I said "Yes"—and he said,

"What did he say to you?"—I took him up the next street and told him, and he said, "If you don't go and give information you will get well paid for it"—this was about 5.30 or 5.45.

DANIEL HUNT (Detective-Inspecter P.). I and Chamberlain had Workman in custody last September—I know his wife and Rogers, alias Dowthwaite—Workman made certain communications to me before his conviction, and subsequently his wife also made certain communications to me—I was at Slough on 26th March, when Davis and Harding were tried and convicted—Harding, alias Biker, made a statement to me before his conviction, and at three interviews after his conviction, in consequence of which I saw Mrs. Chandler—I obtained an order from the Home Secretary and saw William Chandler, and made certain inquiries, and then reported to Scotland Yard, and this prosecution was instituted—I obtained an order to see Workman, and saw him at Wandsworth on 24th May, and told him the object of my visit, and that Patterson was in custody with others on this charge, and said, "Now do you know anything about the case?"—he said, "No; I can have nothing to say in the case"—I said, "Do you know Patterson?"—he said, "Yes; I have known him about 16 years"—I said, "We are in possession of the whole facts of the case. We know that you can give evidence in this case if you like. Will you do it?"—he said, "No; I can have nothing to do with that job; I can't give evidence against my brother-in-law. Besides that, it was nearly two years ago it was talked about?—I said, "Do you recollect being in a certain public-house when the keys were shown to Baker by Patterson in your presence?"—he said, "Yes, I recollect being in a public-house with Patterson and Baker at the Father Red Cap, Camber well Green, one Sunday evening last May (1876), but Patterson did not show Baker the keys. In fact, I do net think Baker ever saw them. I went with my wife once about fifteen months ago, and had a look ever the place referring to Maudsley's. Patterson showed us over the premises and showed us the models"—he declined to give further testimony—on 23rd May with Inspector Chamberlain I saw Mrs. Workman at the Orange Tree Beerhouse, Avill Street, camberwell—I said, "Patterson is in custody charged with others conspiring to commit a burglary at Messrs. Maudsley's and it is said you have been there and know all about it; will you tell us what you know I"—she said, "No. I shall have nothing at all to do with it. I know nothing about it; I have heard it was intended to break in; but that was sometime ago"—I said, "Well, if you decline to give the necessary information there are plenty others who can," mentioning Chandler and his wile—she said, "Mrs. Chandler, let her say what she likes. She is only wild she didn't have the job to climb blooming well herself"—I asked her if I should see her again in the evening, and she said "Yes, come alone. See me at 7 o'clock at my house"—I called there about 6.30, and she was not at home—I saw her about 7 with Mrs. Patterson, the prisoner's wife, leaving the house, and after she had left Mrs. Patterson I spoke to her again about giving me information and told her I was going to see her husband—she said, "I'll wait and see what Arthur does"—she said she could not give information as she had not been paid for the last job—she had given evidence in Harding's case—she said, if her husband gave evidence she would do the same—she afterwards said, "As Patterson has found me and ray children food and shelter for two months after Arthur was put away, I cannot find it in my

heart to hurt him. I know the affair was arranged and would have come off had it been kept quiet. I think it is nearly two years ago it was first talked about. I went with my husband once into Mr. Maudsley's place. We went to see the models. Patterson showed us over the premises. We had some ale there—I know some keys were made, two lots, and I believe that Baker had them with him when he was taken at Slough As the job did not come off you can do nothing with it. You can do nothing with Patterson—Patterson and Baker did come to my house several times—I intended to wait until the job was done, and if a reward was offered, to give information—lid you expect to find the keys when you reached Patterson's house?" I said "Yes, I suppose they did. I was not there myself." She said, "Ah! clever men never keep those things in their own houses"—I said, well! if the affair had taken place she would not have got so much as she thought, perhaps. She said, "If it had been done at the right time, there would have been a good lot there, and they did not mean to do it except when there was plenty there. Sometimes it's more than at others. I will think the matter over, and perhaps I'll tell you more about it. I'll wait and see what Arthur does."

Cross-examined by Arthur Workman. This conversation was on the evening of the 23rd May, the day preceding that on which I saw you at Wandsworth.

Cross-examined by Emma Workman. I did not ask you to go to Mr. Wontner—as a fact he would not be engaged in the case then—when I saw you at the Orange Tree I asked you if you had reconsidered your determination, and whether you would become a witness, and you declined—I was then unaware what steps would be taken—you asked me if the keys were in the bag found on Baker at Slough—I said, "No, there were no keys of that description"—I said, "There is a sovereign in my pocket for you"—that had no reference to this case—you said, "Those keys, if we could find them, would be worth a thousand pounds," and asked me how much I would give for them—I did not say, "I will give you 3l. for them."

WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Inspector L). I have been present and have heard Hunt's statements as to these conversations, and they are substantially correct—I took Patterson in custody on the 22nd May, in Kennington Road—I said, "I am a police officer, and hold a warrant for your apprehension for being concerned with others in conspiring to break into your master's premises, Maudsley's"—he said, "I know nothing about it; who are the others?"—I said, "A man named Davis or Jones, and another named Harding, who were taken in custody at Slough some weeks ago for robbery"—Mrs. Workman made a statement to me after she was in custody—she said, "Mr. Chamberlain, this is a very bad job"—I said, "Yes, it is"—she said, "I wish I had told you and Mr. Hunt the truth the other night when I saw you at the Orange Tree"—I said, "Why didn't you?"—she said, "I hardly knew what to say about it then, I have been in the place (meaning Maudsley's) with my husband. Patterson took him and me in. They didn't allow me to go over the place with them. They shut me in a room whilst they went and done what they wanted"—I said, "Why did they do that?"—she said, "Patterson was afraid that the persons in the next house might see a woman in the house, which would cause some suspicion."

JOHN TRIMME . I am manager to Messrs. Maudsley—I have been in

Court and heard Harding's description of the premises and it is perfectly correct—we were in the habit of paying the men on Saturday—the money was obtained from the Bank on Friday morning, and kept in safes in the room as described by Harding, in iron safes in a wooden locker—the wages are sometimes as high as 2,500l. a week.

Cross-examined by Patterson. The amount last Friday was considerably over 1,000l.—it ranged from 800l. to 2,000l., according to the number of men—we have had nearly 2,000 men during the last 12 months.

WALTER HENRY MAUDSLEY . I am a member of the firm of Maudsley and Co., Engineers—I have heard our premises described to-day and that description is accurate.

Cross-examined by Patterson. You have been in our employ about four and a half years—I believe we received a good character with you, but Mr. Trimme can speak to that—you have been during the last three years in the office and I have seen you almost daily and have never seen anything in your conduct to lead me to suspect you were connected with such men as the other prisoners—you used to fetch the money on Fridays, you and another messenger together, in bags from the Bank—I cannot say if you had an opportunity of seeing the cheque drawn every Friday—there are two cheques drawn, the larger amount on Friday and the other on Saturday morning—it has not been so low as 400l.—I cannot speak as to the number of men we had.

Re-eximined. I did not know when we took Patterson into our service that he had been sentenced to penal servitude—I have since ascertained it.

By the Prisoner. I believe that was 15 years ago—I have seen the papers.

WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Re-examined). I had a conversation with Patterson when he was taken with Workman—he said, "It was through him partly that I got into trouble before—it is some years ago now since I had the five years"—he volunteered the statement—I had these papers with me and showed him his photograph (produced) and he said, "Yes, it's quite right" (certificate produced)—he had a ticket of leave and failed to report himself, and ought to have been apprehended.

Cross-examined by Patterson. You freely acknowledged this, and told me the date, and where you had been—you gave me three written characters from where you had been employed—you had been at one place nine months; at another place they could not find you in their books, and at Smith and Taylor's, Pimlico, they admitted that you were employed there as a labourer, but did not know how long.

Patterson produced a written defence, denying the charge, and assenting that the witnesses' statements were wicked fabrications.

Arthur Workman, in his defence, stated that the police had not told the truth, and had been working the case up solely on the letter they had received from Harding, and that Harding's statement at the Police Court was a tissue of falsehoods, and that there was no evidence to support that of the convicts. He also stated that during the last thirty years he had been occupied as a grocer, a photographer, and as a police-constable, and was never a housebreaker, except once with Rogers, when in great poverty. Emma Workman, in her defence, stated that she knew nothing of the charge; that she never saw the keys, that she had been annoyed by the police every time her husband got into trouble, and that the evidence was perfectly false.

PATTERSON* and ARTHUR WORKMAN**†— GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment.

EMMA WORKMAN.— GUILTY .— Twelve Months'Imprisonment.



View as XML